10 Seconds Until Self-Destruct

Summary- Spencer Reid is a genius detective with more then a few dark secrets. Derek Morgan is an FBI profiler with a tragic past. Both are broken, but when a case brings them together, can they fix each other? AU in which Reid never joined the BAU, M/R SLASH, Reid/Team friendships

Warnings- language, mentions of drug use, violence and torture…

Rating-T (for now)

A/N: The day after I posted this story, I decided to check my email, to see if maybe I'd gotten a review or two, or a couple of people interested. But when I did check it, I'm pretty sure I sat there for like, two minutes, completely stunned, and when I did say something, it was along the lines of "HOLY FRIGGIN' CRAP!" And even now, the emails and feedback keep coming. When I posted this story, I never thought I would get so much good feedback and alerts on it and just… wow. Thank you guys SSSOOO much for reading and giving my story a try. It means an absolute ton to me that you guys are, and I'm thrilled that you guys are enjoying it. :D

So this chapter will center around Derek, and feature the BAU, as well as him and our favorite technical analyst, Ms. Penelope Garcia. I did say in the summary that Spencer isn't the only one 'broken' in this fic, and you will get to see some Derek-angst in this chapter too. In the next chapter, however, Derek and the team will meet Spencer and Damien, and by that I mean Spencer and Derek will FINALLY meet. Sadly, they won't in this chapter, because I wanted to do one chapter centered around Spencer (the first one) and one around Derek (this one) before they are introduced. :) But still, I hope you like and enjoy this chapter, and thanks again for giving my story a try!

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters (or the things and storylines that happened and centered on them in the past): just my OC's and plotline. If I did own Criminal Minds, well, let's just say it would be the way us fangirls want it: lots of heavy and hot Morgan and Reid slash, and lots of Spencer in danger, and… other things ;)

Chapter 2

Hands

If there was one thing, one feeling that Derek Morgan knew he would never forget, it was the hands. The hands that seemed to be everywhere; invading his dreams, causing him to doze off at any given time and wake up sweating and choking on both bile and a scream. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget the feeling of the hands touching him, suffocating him, hurting him. He just couldn't forget.

The hands were the reason he was awake right now, lying on his couch in a t-shirt and sweatpants, watching god-knows-what on his television. His dog, Clooney, was curled up beside him, and Derek absent-mindedly scratched at his ears. Normally, he'd never let Clooney on the couch, but lately, he'd been loosening up on the rules. On his life, actually.

Derek sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. When did he become like this? So undone, so weak. He was an FBI agent for god's sake, and yet he was afraid to even go to sleep for fear that the nightmares would overwhelm him once more. And it wasn't just the hands that he dreamt about. Sometimes he watched his father die over and over again, the sound of the gunshot screaming at him like a cruel and broken record. He'd watch, paralyzed, as the light left his father's once bright eyes, as the blood stain from that one fatal bullet grew bigger and bigger, until Derek felt like he was drowning in it. That was when he always woke up from that dream, but either way, he always knew what he dreamt about, what he saw. It was impossible to unsee.

And this all scared Derek, because he knew what was causing these uncontrollable nightmares and dreams: his job.

For years he had been working with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, a group of the best profilers in the country. His job was everything to him, and he couldn't imagine doing anything else with his life. Of course, it was probably one of the most emotionally draining and depressing jobs ever, considering all of the horror, pain and grief he witnessed on a daily basis, but he always did consider it worth it. He was helping people, saving them, and the look of the people they rescued as they were reunited with their families and loved ones always enforced Derek's belief that he was doing the right thing with his life.

But recently, he had been finding it harder to let go of cases, of the people they didn't save, especially the children. He couldn't help thinking that he could have been one of them, one of the people whose bodies were found dead, abused and with sightless eyes begging for someone to bring them back, to let them live again, to make their final moments be forgotten and just be again.

The BAU had been getting more and more cases involving children lately, ones where they were kidnapped and killed by sick, terrible people who actually got off on the pain and fear they brought them. It made Derek want to throw up, and the worst part was that he knew what those children felt. The confusion, the fear, the humiliation, the wanting to just disappear and never have to remember anything ever again. He knew how it felt like to feel the hands, and what had happened to each and every one of those children.

He was one of the lucky ones though.

He wasn't dead.

But he sure as hell didn't feel lucky.

But the nightmares were still worsening and becoming more frequent, and Derek was terrified that his job was finally starting to affect him too much. People had always told him that one day he would snap; he wouldn't be able to handle it anymore. That he couldn't have such a life-altering, dangerous, emotionally grueling job and lifestyle, and that one day, he just wouldn't be able to do it anymore.

Like Gideon, who Derek once looked up to, but had to watch slowly deteriorate until he finally snapped and resigned from the Bureau before running away without so much as a goodbye.

Like Elle, who may have killed a man in cold blood before she left and never turned back.

Derek Morgan refused to end up like them.

But his past was starting to catch up to him, as were the memories and long-forgotten, awful feelings, and Derek was starting to wonder how much more of it all he could take. He knew it was all were starting to affect his job performance. The team was starting to notice how tired he had been lately, how unfocused and distracted he was becoming. Derek could tell his boss Hotch was itching to have a talk with him, but Derek knew he couldn't tell him the truth. I think this job is starting to break me. No, that wasn't an option.

But were there any others? And what would he do with his life if he decided he couldn't handle working for the FBI? Derek could always move back to Chicago to live with his family, he supposed, but then what would he do? No, Derek was nothing if not Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan.

He wasn't going to fall apart.

He wasn't going to give into the nightmares.

He was going to do what he always did: push past it, then solve a case, then solve another one, and continue to do so. He was going to keep going, no matter what.

Or at least, that's what he was going to do his best to do.

Suddenly, Derek thought about a conversation he had with Emily Prentiss the other day.

"Are you ever going to move from one night stands to an actual relationship?" she asked in a teasing tone, but there was an actual spark of interest in her now-radiant eyes.

Derek smirked before replying lightly with "Where's the fun in that?"

Emily simply laughed and rolled her eyes before they both returned to their paperwork.

Maybe that was it. Derek was, after all, 39 years old, and he couldn't remember the last time he had a stable, actual relationship with somebody. Maybe he was just, god forbid, lonely.

But he knew he couldn't risk a relationship. Look what happened to Hotch: the women he loved was murdered because of his job. And then there was famous author and profiler David Rossi, who had three failed marriages. Their job simply didn't allow for them to have actual relationships or marriages, and even if it did, Derek knew he couldn't risk it. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he would be too scared to have his heart broken. He couldn't fall in love only to end up shattered and alone. He just couldn't handle it.

Derek all of a sudden groaned loudly, causing Clooney to jolt awake and growl slightly. Derek simply sighed at this, before getting up off of the couch and heading towards his kitchen. His gaze flickered to his oven, where the time was displayed, red and annoyingly bright.

2:39am.

Derek nearly groaned again.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, before walking tiredly over and pulling his fridge open. He kneeled down, wincing as a blast of cool air hit him, before pulling out a cold and icy beer. He then stood up, shivering slightly, before shutting the fridge door and leaning against his counter, bottle still in hand.

Derek remembered when he went over to Hotch's house one time soon after Haley died, to see how he was doing, if he was okay. Hotch didn't answer the door, but when Derek knocked once more, it was revealed to be unlocked. The door had creaked open, and he saw Hotch drinking, a look of drunken sorrow and pain written all over his normally stoic face. Soon after Hotch came back to work at the BAU, Derek had confronted him about it, worried about his boss, his friend. Hotch had looked at Derek, a weird expression on his face, before saying softly, in the most vulnerable tone Derek had ever heard him speak in, "It helped me forget".

If there was one thing Derek needed right now, it was to forget.

Of course, Hotch had never done anything like that again, but Derek knew he wouldn't make a habit of it either. And of course, Derek knew drinking at this time of night was probably the stupidest thing he could do right now, especially since he had work tomorrow, but he was desperate to escape his overwhelming thoughts and emotions and just let it all fade away for a while.

So he popped the cap off of the bottle, tipped it back and drank until it was all empty. Derek closed his eyes, feeling fuzzy and slightly light-headed, but it soon became worth it.

He couldn't feel the hands any more.


"Good morning my loves!"

Penelope Garcia's bright and perky voice matched perfectly with the outfit she was wearing as she entered the bullpen, looking way too energetic and happy to be there. Everyone else on the BAU cracked a smile at this, all looking awake and ready to take on their next case.

Derek meanwhile, felt and almost certainly looked like an absolute wreck.

He had ended up drinking way more than he planned on, and eventually fell asleep at around 3:30am, only to have to get up a couple of hours later. Only this time, he had a killer hangover and headache, and felt like death warmed over. He had noticeable dark circles under his eyes, which were bloodshot and screamed how exhausted and miserable he was feeling. His friends on the team had commented on it, but Derek simply stated he had a late night, and refused to say anything else.

He was starting to feel guilty and ashamed about what he did: drinking didn't solve anything, and he knew that, but still… it was a one time thing, and he promised himself he wouldn't do it again, no matter how crappy or down he was feeling. Still, despite how terrible the aftermath of his night of drinking was, it was nice to just… forget, even for a little while.

Derek was brought out of his thoughts by Garcia, who had started describing the BAU's next case. He was aware of the glances that were being thrown his way, from basically everyone on the team, especially Garcia and Hotch. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, starting to feel self-conscious and embarrassed (which were feelings Derek Morgan did not do), and instead tried to focus on what Garcia was saying about the case at hand.

"Alright so," Garcia was saying, "You guys are going to Sin City for a while, to investigate the kidnappings and brutal killings of," she showed a picture of four beautiful teenagers, "Tyler Sparks, Jennifer Williams, Tamara McAllen and Samantha Brooks." She then showed the team several pictures of the girls after death, causing them all to wince internally.

"Now, two of these girls were dumped in Las Vegas, while the other two were dumped in other, nearby towns: Farburrow and Elmsburgh.* But," she continued before anyone could ask if they were sure it was the same offender, "The victimology is creepily similar. As you could probably tell from the pictures, they all had dark brown hair, perfect skin and teeth, green eyes, and were all athletic, thin and tall, and all were very beautiful. Also," Garcia paused again, to show the team pictures of the dump sites, "They were all dumped in parks. The ones found in Farburrow and Elmsburgh were found in trees, while the ones found in Las Vegas were both dumped in bushes."

"What was there cause of death?" JJ asked, tucking her golden blond hair behind her ears.

"Well, the ME couldn't exactly determine it, because of all the wounds they sustained anti-mortem. They were all stabbed eight times in their abdomen and torsos, beaten severely, and burn marks were found all over their bodies, from either matches or some form of electrocution."

"That's a lot of rage," Rossi commented, "And someone with that amount of rage doesn't show any sign of stopping."

Garcia nodded, looking grim. "Exactly, my fine Italian profiler." Rossi could only blink at that while everyone else stifled a smile, "Yesterday, another girl was taken in Las Vegas, which the investigators on the case are starting to think have become his kill zone. Each girl appears to be held hostage for a couple of days before their bodies are found. And ," she showed a picture of a beautiful teenager with dark brown hair and bright green eyes, "This is what she looks like."

Hotch nodded, "That means we don't have a lot of time." He stood up, the rest of the team following suit, "Wheels up in thirty." He stated before he and the rest of team started to file out of the room. Before Derek could leave, however, he felt a hand with extremely sharp nails grab on to his wrist. Stifling a sigh, he turned around and came face-to-face with a very concerned and angry Penelope Garcia.

"Baby girl, I'm fine." He stated firmly before she could speak. "I just had a late night, that's all."

"So you've been having these 'late nights' for days now?" she challenged. "You haven't been acting like yourself for a while now Derek," Derek winced slightly at the use of his first name, which meant Garcia was pissed, "And you won't even tell me of all people why! I-"

"Penelope," Derek broke in gently, "I'm fine, honestly. I've been really tired lately, because of all of the cases we're getting. I never did like traveling that much."

That wasn't lying: he had been really tired lately, because of all of the cases the team had been getting. It just wasn't the traveling part of them that was bothering him.

Garcia eyed Derek for a moment before saying in a no-nonsense and slightly suspicious tone, "Fine. I can tell that you're lying about something though," Derek opened his mouth to protest, hoping desperately that she hadn't figured it out, but she cut him off, "However, I will let you off this one time, because you have a case to get to and solve. But, when you get back, you will tell me. You of all people know, Derek Morgan, that you can not hide from the Penelope Garcia."

Derek smiled slightly at this before nodding, "I know, believe me."

Garcia gave him a slight hug and a knowing smile before winking at him, "I'll wait anxiously for your return."

And with that, she flounced out of the room, leaving Derek stand in the middle of the bullpen, his smile from before soon fading. He was ssooo not ready to talk to Garcia, because she was right: he couldn't hide from her. He sighed one last time, running his hand over his face, before leaving the room to pack up for their next case.

Suddenly, Derek wished he could have another drink.


*Those two towns, Farburrow and Elmsburgh, are NOT real, by the way :) They will be talked about and mentioned throughout the story, but the main setting is Las Vegas. They are two towns I made up for the purposes of this story, and… yeah. :) But I'll probably have quite a bit of fun making up what they're like and stuff, so we'll see where my muse takes me ;)

Hmmm… I think I like the previous chapter more, but that's because I'm slightly more comfortable writing from Reid's POV… and like writing about Damien too :) But still, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and don't worry: as I said before, in the next one, Spencer and Derek shall FINALLY meet, and *spoiler alert* the name of the chapter shall be called 'Sparks' ;) Can you guess why? Anyway, thank you guys so much for reading, and I will try to update again as soon as I can. And again, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please leave a review telling me what you think!

~CMGL