A/N: I'm sorry for the lack of updates lately; school has seriously started to kick my behind, and even more so now that I am taking nursing courses in the spring. Pray for me guys! I've been getting a lot of inspiration for this story lately, and it helps that my friends have now gotten into Criminal Minds and are still on the first season. Revisiting the first season is really odd after only watching the tenth season recently, but I still love it.

A small BTW, according to the very minimal research I did, the Redskins lost the game on October 16, 2005 against the Kansas City Chiefs. Since the case in the fourth episode ended on October 11 and the case is the fifth was from October 17 to19, that's the game I'll be using for Reid and JJ's little 'date.' Yay for accurate (?) research! Also, this chapter contains a shift in point of view. It starts off with Reid, but it will shift to Morgan as the chapter progresses. Just so that you guys got it and know that this entire story won't just focus on Reid's point of view, though the majority may. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Criminal Minds.

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October 17, 2005... 2 AM

"God, that game was so close!" JJ exclaimed, sliding into the seat of the cab and immediately scooting over to make room for Reid. Reid nodded at her elated frustration as he slipped in beside her, shutting the door behind him as he entered. He leaned forward to recite his address to the cab driver and as the vehicle pulled away from the curb, he turned to face JJ.

"I'm sorry your team lost, JJ," Reid said, his lips stretched into a tight frown.

The game had indeed been close. The advantage had been in the Redskins' favor at the beginning, the Washington team taking the lead over the Kansas City Chiefs with a score of 7-6. JJ had been ecstatic and her enthusiasm was certainly contagious; as time went on, Reid had gradually become more and more comfortable in the roaring crowd, especially in the presence of a friend, and he had actually found himself cheering along with the rest of the attendants, a huge grin on his face when the Redskins made it to halftime in the lead.

However, that happiness had been short-lived as the Chiefs quickly caught up, somehow managing to bring the game to a tie by the end of the third quarter. Tensely, Reid had watched the rest of the game in near silence, fists clenching and relaxing on top of his thighs as he mumbled statistics and strategies under his breath. JJ had seemed on edge as well, though admittedly less than Reid, watching the game more calmly and intently than she had been in the first half. Evidently, the fourth quarter had come and ended, and the Redskins' premature win suddenly became a loss with an overall score of 21-28.

JJ had huffed in exaggerated disappointment, but when Reid had turned to look at her, she had been smiling. He had felt a vague sense of confusion at this observation; he himself had been pretty upset that the Redskins had lost, but more so because JJ probably hadn't enjoyed herself to the fullest at the game rather than the actuality of the team losing.

Back in the cab, the woman whipped her head around to face him, blonde hair flowing towards the front of her shoulders. Her baby blue eyes were round in exhilarated confusion, and her thin brows were quirked in question.

"Don't be, Spence!" she replied, nudging his shoulder. "I had a great time. Thank you so much for inviting me to this game."

Shying away from the gratitude, Reid ducked his head. "It's nothing. Gideon told me you were a big fan, and I couldn't pass up on taking you to the game."

"He gave you the tickets, right?" JJ said, adjusting the maroon cap on her head.

Reid nodded. "Yeah. For my birthday."

"Not that I'm complaining, but how come you didn't take him to the game?" JJ asked, tilting her head. "Or Morgan, for that matter? You, uh, you seem a lot closer to them than you are to me."

Reid shrugged. He wasn't about to tell JJ the truth, that Gideon hadn't planned on ever going to the game in the first place, intending the tickets to be for him and Morgan. JJ was a good person, and she was no last resort. He genuinely had a nice time with her tonight.

So he fluidly replied, "Yeah, well, maybe I wanted to change that."

At this, JJ seemed to freeze up, the previously composed expression in her eyes flinching into one of mild alarm. Reid furrowed his eyes momentarily, puzzled at her rapid change into negativity. Then he suddenly caught on, his eyes widening and his hands raised in front of him as he rushed to explain.

"Oh! I didn't, uh, I didn't mean for it to sound like, like this was a date. I just- Y'know, we both work together! And I-I-I just figured that, you know, since you were a fan of the Redskins and Gideon bought these tickets for me and someone else that- well, it wasn't a date, if that's what you're worried about, I just-"

"Spence, Spence, Spence," JJ cut in, placing a hand on his shoulder as he frantically stammered through his explanation. Reid stopped at her interruption, swallowing as he felt the heat of an embarrassed blush spreading across his neck.

JJ smiled, though Reid noted it was slightly strained and taut, not as easy as it had been before. "I got it. And it was... Really sweet of you to invite me out. Thanks."

Unable to speak past the dryness in his throat and mouth, Reid could only nod, sinking his head down as he rested his back against his seat once more. The tiniest of urges inside of him was telling him to tell JJ the true reason of why he didn't want to consider this a date and why she shouldn't either. Now that Gideon knew and, to Reid's understanding, accepted his orientation, Reid felt compelled to want to see if his other colleagues would accept him as well. But the larger part of his mind shut that idea down instantly; should his colleagues inquire about it, Reid might tell them in time, but otherwise he wanted to keep that private part about himself to himself.

So he kept his mouth shut. The rest of the ride to Reid's apartment was spent in delicate silence, with Reid watching the dark scenery zip past them outside and JJ constantly adjusting her cap. By the time the cab pulled up to Reid's apartment complex, Reid was itching to get out. Yet, he forced himself to linger a second longer, turning back to JJ.

"So, uh... I guess I'll see you at work," Reid said lamely.

JJ nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you at work."

Reid inclined his head in a stiff nod and opened the door, climbing out of the cab. As he shut the door, however, he saw JJ shifting across the seat to his side, and the window lowered. He paused, waiting as JJ's face came into view.

"Spence, I just want to say..." JJ began, trailing off. She seemed to struggle with something, and then she sighed, smiling. "Thanks again for today. I had a great time."

Flustered, Reid's lips twisted into what he hoped was, at best, an awkward grin. "Yeah... My pleasure, JJ."

Her smile lifting, she said, "I'll see you at work."

"Yeah, see ya."

Reid didn't take his eyes off her as she shuffled to sit back into her seat, facing the front. Her window rose up all the while, and Reid watched as she leaned forward and inaudibly told the driver her address. After a short moment, the cab pulled away from the curb, leaving Reid to stare after the bright red taillights as it drove away. He stood there for a moment longer, hands shoved deep into his pockets and brow lowered in thought, even after the cab turned the corner and disappeared into traffic.

He didn't really know for certain what to make of this day. JJ and him were friendly at work, sure, and he definitely felt comfortable enough to invite her out to the Redskins game. But actually being out alone with her, the absence of the rest of their colleagues strikingly evident, wrecked his nerves. It wasn't the trembling, knees-locked reaction of asking a girl out; quite obviously, his intentions with her had been purely platonic.

But still, she made him anxious. JJ was intelligent and athletic and beautiful, and like with Morgan, Reid had made assumptions about her character upon their first interaction when Gideon had introduced them to one another.

And JJ, like Morgan, like everyone else on this team, had proven him wrong. She was warm towards him, though she was not immune to the frustration that came with being on the receiving end of Reid's intellect. She smiled easily around him, respected his desire for space, and was just overall kind.

Her response to thinking Reid had asked her out on a date bothered him, though, and she probably still believed that, seeing as how Reid had made a fool of himself in his frantic attempt to deny it. Tuesday morning would more than likely be a little awkward.

Maybe one day, he'd tell her. Maybe.

Reid blew out a long exhale and turned to walk up to his apartment. As he strolled up the walkway, he retrieved his phone from his pocket. He had had it off for the majority of their trip in Missouri under Hotch's recommendation. Switching the power back on, Reid palmed the device as he let himself into the building. It was when he was ascending the stairs to the second floor that the mobile vibrated in quick succession with multiple texts. Pulling out his keys , he looked at his phone and activated his messaging app.

From: Aaron Hotchner

Date: October 16, 07:36 PM

Message: I know you have a late flight back home, so you and JJ have the day off tomorrow to rest up from the trip. I better not see either of you two until Tuesday.

Reid couldn't help smiling a little at that. JJ had informed him of this earlier, having not turned off her phone. He clicked the left button to view the latest text.

From: Derek Morgan

Date: October 16, 10:32PM

Message: Hope you and JJ enjoyed the game. I expect details ;)

Reid pinched his brows together, flipping his phone shut. He twisted the key into the lock of his door and let himself in. Closing and relocking the door, Reid placed his keys on the designated hook by the door, kicked off his shoes, slid them to the wall, and headed toward the kitchen.

Morgan had explained to him what emoticons were after introducing him to the world of texting a few months back. Really, Reid saw no point in it, but humored Morgan nonetheless when the older agent decided to grace him with a smiley face or frowny face or whatever emoticon suited his mood during the time of said text. Tonight, it was a winking face. Usually used to indicate flirting (or that's how Morgan usually used it), to Reid it felt a little off tonight. Details... What details? About the game itself?

Because obviously Morgan knew that Reid and JJ weren't on a date tonight. JJ may have gotten the wrong impression earlier, but Morgan for sure knew.

Shaking his head and shrugging away the questions, Reid shut off the screen monitor. It was then that a deep wave of drowsiness hit him, and he suppressed a yawn as he trekked toward his room, intent on sleeping tomorrow morning away.

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October 18, 2005... 11 AM

The morning he was due to return from his mini-vacation, Reid strolled down the hall from the break room, heading toward the bullpen. He raised his cup of hazelnut flavored coffee to his lips, and nearly burned his tongue as a shoulder suddenly pushed against his own. Restraining a grunt, he glared minutely at his companion, narrowing his eyes as this was answered with a low chuckle. Reid gave an indignant huff, his glare morphing into a small and shaking his head in exasperation.

"So, what happened with you and JJ at the Redskins game?" Morgan asked.

Reid felt troubled at the whispered eagerness in Morgan's voice, but he just raised his lips into a faint smirk and replied semi-playfully, "That's top secret."

Morgan opened his mouth to reply, but -

"Derek, hey!"

Both Morgan and Reid turned around at the sudden interruption of Agent Darcy Rivers, who was leering at Morgan with faux reproach and a dangerous spark in her eye that had nothing to do with anger as she approached them. Reid's fingers tightened instinctively around the stack of case files cradled to his chest.

"I put the transcript from the last prison interview on your desk," she said, pivoting to continue facing Morgan as she walked past.

"Okay," Morgan replied with near disinterest. A pleasant ache emerged in the pit of Reid's stomach at Morgan's dismissive attitude toward the female agent. He pressed the files closer to his chest, hoping the pressure would help to quell it down.

"You could have sent it interoffice," Darcy said, walking backwards now.

"I could have," Morgan answered in the same manner, though now he turned completely away from Darcy, an easy, indifferent expression on his face as they walked further and further away from the woman. In Reid's line of sight, Darcy's confident demeanor fell as she turned back around and continued her brisk walk to her destination.

Slightly encouraged at the exchange, though trying not to be, Reid smirked more openly. "Must be tough, man."

"Not really," Morgan shrugged.

"What do you mean? You don't do anything and these women are throwing themselves at you!"

Morgan rumbled with soft laughter as he tilted his head pointedly at Reid. "Strictly off-limits, Reid. These ladies don't need to know that I bat for the other team. In fact, no one does."

Reid visibly cringed.

They reached the bullpen area, streaming with fellow BAU agents, and Morgan's voice steadily dropped to a lower volume. Reid got to his desk and lowered his satchel gently to the floor. He placed his coffee on the desk surface and sat down, light stabs of hurt blossoming within him.

"You say it like it's a bad thing," he whispered.

Morgan's head snapped up from where he was standing by Reid's desk. His dark brows raised in a some resemblance of surprised remorse as he caught the apparent offense on Reid's face. The older man sighed, leaning the back of his thighs against the desk.

"I wasn't implying it was," Morgan defended. "I just... It's no one else's business, that's all. No one needs to know every aspect about my life. Some things... You have a right to keep some things to yourself. Especially here."

Reid nodded slowly, grasping on to the logic of Morgan's argument. It was similar to what he had been thinking during the time he spent with JJ last night; no one, save for Gideon and Morgan, needed to know about his preferences. It was no one else's business. Yet much of one's personal life could be uncovered in an occupation such as their own. Eventually, one way or another, people would find out. Reid's stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"Reid! Morgan!"

Both men turned away from each other as Hotch's call cut through the otherwise tender atmosphere. The unit chief was looking down at the bullpen towards them, Elle at his side, and walking to the conference room with quick steps. At their attention, he announced, "Document's up on the screen regarding the kidnapping of Trish Davenport."

Shifting his entire focus on his boss, Reid quickly leapt up from his chair, maneuvering around his and other stray chairs as he made his way to the stairs. Behind him, he could hear Morgan's footsteps following him to the landing.

"Have you read them yet?" Reid asked, directing the question to Hotch.

As he spoke, Morgan's hand unconsciously brushed Reid's own on the rail as they ascended the stairs. Playing off the flinch at the unexpected contact, Reid lifted his hand higher on the rail and jogged a little quicker up the steps.

"Yeah, I got a copy from the document examiner," Hotch assented.

"What did it say?" Morgan asked.

"That we've got until 8 o'clock tonight."

They all headed into the conference room, and Gideon, who was already inside, greeted their arrival with a raised brow. The documents of the new Davenport case were indeed pulled up on the monitor, and Reid approached the screen as his teammates gathered around.

"You will follow instructions carefully. You will do this to ensure the safety of your daughter. You will wait for the will answer the call at 8 PM. You will write down the instructions and follow them to the letter," Reid read, enunciating each written word carefully.

"That gives us less than nine hours to get to Connecticut, work up victimology on Trish Davenport, and prepare her father for the ransom drop," Hotch listed.

"How do we know the letter's real?" Gideon asked.

"Uhh." Hotch clicked the appropriate button, pulling up the accuracy results of the letter versus a sample of the Davenport girl's handwriting. "The handwriting is a match for Trish's. He dictated it to her. And they found saline in the paper."

"Her tears," Gideon muttered.

"He never says 'I,'" Morgan added in, arms folded over his chest. "He doesn't say 'I will call,' he says, 'You will answer the call.' He's distancing himself from the kidnapping. If he said 'I,' he'd be taking responsibility for it."

"There's also another missing element: no mention of the police," Elle noted. "Ransom notes almost always forbid police involvement."

"So is he expecting law enforcement to get involved?" Hotch asked the room.

"Well, if he's expecting us..." Gideon answered, his hawk eyes scrutinizing the screen before him. "... Let's not disappoint him."

Hotch nodded and swiftly walked out of the room, Elle close behind. Reid cast one last, analyzing look toward the letter on the monitor before he too left the conference area, leaving behind Gideon to frown at the screen.

He could sense Morgan behind him before he actually felt the hand on his shoulder, but he still jumped at the contact either way. Morgan appeared not to notice his miniature flinch, grinning wolfishly at him. Reid forced himself to swallow down the hard lump that rapidly managed to lodge itself in his throat, attempting to moisten his suddenly dry airway at the sight of Morgan's sparking, deep brown gaze.

"Sooo," Morgan drawled, his grin widening. "I notice JJ isn't here today."

They descended the stairs and approached the bullpen workstations, where Elle was currently hoisting her bag over her shoulder. Reid smiled minutely as she noticed their appearance, the woman returning the small smile with a dip of her head before she turned to leave the bullpen. By this moment, what Morgan said had sunk in, and Reid frowned at the new information.

"Really? I didn't really notice," he replied, curiosity formulating in his mind at the blonde woman's no-show.

Morgan chuckled. "Maybe you scared her off at the game, man."

This struck a chord. All the insecurities and doubt of Sunday night returned full-force, sending questions buzzing around Reid's overwhelmed brain. He ducked his head, having no reply but to chew on his bottom lip. Morgan's amusement died down into silence, and the older man let go of his minor grip on Reid's shoulder as they stopped at his desk. Reid chanced a look at him, and saw that the other agent was watching him with a mixture of concern and puzzlement.

"Reid, I was just joking, kid," Morgan said, forehead creased.

Reid shook his head, dropping down to retrieve his bag. "No... No, I know you were."

"So-"

"No, it's just..." Reid said, placing himself once more. "I-I-I tried to make it clear to her, y'know, what it was. But I think... I think she thinks I like her, and that the game was me asking her out on a date. So maybe I did, unintentionally, scare her off."

He trailed off into an embarrassed silence here, shying away from Morgan's stare as he fumbled with the contents of his satchel, hastily brushing back his fringe behind his ear.

"Kid..." Morgan said, almost weakly. "I was just playing around."

Reid nodded quickly. "We've established that."

"I'm positive you didn't scare her off," Morgan continued. "I'm sure she's just working on something else at the moment. You know she's the unit's best communications liaison."

Reid shrugged. "True-"

"Point is, don't think too much on it," Morgan said. Reid looked back up at him again, and noticed that in the time Morgan was talking he had grabbed his bag and flung it over his shoulder, stance and posture relaxed. "Plus if it's bothering you that much, why don't you just tell her?"

Reid tightened his lips into a thin grimace, shaking his head ever so slightly. "Because it's no one else's business. Right?"

Morgan remained silent, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and casting his eyes downward. Reid nodded his affirmation to Morgan's lack of response, grabbed his bag, and walked out of the bullpen.

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October 18, 6:49 PM

Morgan sighed as stepped over the threshold of the Davenport residence, running a hand over his scalp. They had done about as much investigating as they were going to do at the crime scene, though other than Cheryl's input and the signs of blood in the dirt and the car, there wasn't anything else to go by other than what they'd here in about an hour's time.

"Morgan. Elle."

Hotch's voice rang through the house from the dining room, and Morgan abruptly sought him out, watching as his superior beckoned them over. Morgan turned to Elle and jerked his head forward, stepping forward at her responding nod. They walked into the kitchen, and Morgan immediately spotted Evan Davenport, sitting tensely in one of his chairs with his hands clasped together as if in prayer. Cheryl was beside him, hands on either one of his shoulders, braced in a comforting grip.

"Mr. Davenport," Hotch said. The distressed man raised himself from his hands, his eyes sagging in despair as Hotch captured his attention. "This is Agent Morgan and Agent Greenaway. They were with your daughter Cheryl at the crime scene."

"... Is there..." Evan spoke softly, his voice a raw croak. He roughly cleared his throat and blinked harshly. "Is there anything you can tell us from..."

"Trish definitely fought as hard as she could for freedom," Elle said, relaying what they already knew from their conversation with Cheryl earlier. "Nail marks on the car seat and disturbances where she fell indicate that she didn't go quietly."

"It's unlikely that she's hurt too badly," Morgan added in. "The victim is typically made sure to be kept alive and in a decent state of health to ensure they get the transaction of money they want. Based on everything we know right now, Trish should be okay."

"You just have to get through tonight," Elle finished.

Evan's eyes fluttered shut, and a shaky sigh vibrated past his lips as he nodded, allowing their words to sink in. The father rested his forehead against his clasped hands once more, and Cheryl removed her hands from his shoulders to occupy the chair beside him.

Satisfied with the information given to the family at the moment, Morgan turned away, walking out of the dining room. The entire house was streaming with FBI agents, local law enforcers, and protective detail. He narrowed his eyes at the bustling scene before him, scanning his surroundings more thoroughly.

With the agents milling about, it was easy enough to spot the young doctor sitting in an open chair, head bent low and finger grazing down the pages of the book in his lap in a fluid, quick movement. Morgan sauntered forward, allowing his heavy footsteps to let Reid know of his approach. Reid glanced up right as Morgan came to a halt, hands in his pockets, brow inclined.

"What are you reading?" Morgan inquired, nudging his shoulder forward as a gesture toward the book.

"Segments on the biology of twins such as Trish and Cheryl Davenport," Reid answered. "Evan Davenport mentioned that Trish had been born with organs on her right side that should have been on her left, and vise versa. As long as it's mostly reversed, it's not particularly life-threatening since every organ has their place and isn't in conflict with surrounding ones. It's a fascinating condition by the name of situs inversus."

Morgan stared. Reid came to a halt, licking his lips unconsciously, casting a momentary glance down at the book in his lap. He suddenly began to bounce his knee in an almost anxious twitch.

"Probably isn't relevant anyway," he muttered, closing the book and placing it on the stand beside him. He turned back to Morgan standing above him, his hazel eyes gleaming with question. "Find anything?"

Morgan scratched his temple. "Yeah. We know that Trish fought her attacker, despite the odds being against her."

"She took self-defense," Reid supplied. "Perhaps she thought she could take whoever it was."

"Even so, it wasn't enough," Morgan said, allowing his arm to fall with a brush against his thigh. "She was still taken. And I noticed something else too, but about her boyfriend. Jordan was shot clear in the face. Any regular perp would have just eliminated him right away, no question. But he specifically waited for Jordan to face him before he fired."

Reid's brows furrowed. "Perhaps his quarrel was also with the boyfriend? Wanted him to see just who was killing him?"

"Nah," Morgan shook his head. "Well, actually, in a way, yes. He definitely was angry at him, enough to shoot him in the face, up close and personal. But the real problem he has has to lie with Evan Davenport."

Reid nodded, though the grimaced scowl remained in place as he fell into thought. Patting his shoulder, Morgan headed back into the fray of cops and feds.

The rest of the time consisted of last-minute preparations to the remaining Davenport family members, instructing them on what to do and what to say and not say, checking and doubling-checking the recording equipment, putting a tracking system in place, and exhausting any more theories the unit had about the unsub based on the information they had.

By the time the clock in the living room read 7:54, Morgan was pumped up on adrenalin, anger, and determination. All of these emotions buzzed inside of him, causing his fingers to tremble in anticipation as the time for the call grew nearer. He was anxious to get more information, to get something more done.

"Keep yourself calm, Derek," Elle said as she suddenly materialized beside him. Her stony smirk was in place as he turned to face her completely.

"I hate waiting," he said simply.

Elle nodded. "Same here. But there's already going to be enough anxiety out there with Mr. Davenport and Cheryl. We don't need to send them vibes that we're pretty anxious too."

"I know that. Remember, I've been here longer than you, youngster," Morgan joked, sending a quick wink in Elle's direction.

The woman rolled her eyes, turning to lean her lower torso against the counter. She jerked her chin forward, staring pointedly into the space between them and the rest of the agents. "You seemed pretty adamant about putting down Cheryl's ability to know something was wrong with Trish."

Morgan scoffed. "I just don't believe in that kinda stuff. I get the whole intuition, gut-feeling type deal. But being able to feel your twin's concerns and anxiety? I'm going to need more than that."

"You think Cheryl's a whack job because she claims she can feel her sister's anxiety?" Elle asked, twisting to her side and resting her hand on the counter.

Morgan shook his head. "I never said whack job."

"Actually there may be a physiological basis for it," Reid's voice came from the doorway.

Morgan closed his eyes briefly, looking over to Elle's bemused expression. "Don't ask."

"Reversed asymmetry monozygotic eggs split late between nine to twelve days. The DNA matches right down to the very last stranded code and there's sporadic documentation of shared physiological pain," Reid cited.

"And you believe it?" Morgan asked, skepticism heavily lacing his words.

"No, I'm just saying it's possible," Reid clarified. "I don't know everything. I mean, despite the fact that you think that I do."

"I never said that," Morgan said defensively. "When have I ever said that?"

"Every day since I met you," Reid snorted.

"This morning at breakfast," Elle added in. Morgan glowered annoyingly at her, his eyes pinching further as she shrugged in nonchalance.

"Yesterday when he beat you at cards," Hotch said, appearing at Morgan's left. "Um, we've got one minute."

The small reminder of where they were and what they were doing sobered them up immediately, and they all turned to follow Hotch out of the kitchen.

But not before Morgan turned and asked, "Anybody ever heard of sarcasm?"

"Mmm hmm," both Elle and Reid replied, halfhearted and implied sarcasm noticeably making itself known.

Morgan chuckled.

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October 19, 2005... 7:35 AM

Weary accomplishment spread throughout Morgan's body, removing the dead weight off of his shoulders as he threw his pen onto an open area of his desk, slipping the last completed file into his outbox. He sighed a heavy groan and slumped into his chair, the muscles in his back relieving the painful knots that had formed there throughout the night. Wincing, eyes closing, his hand trailed to the bandaged skin at his side, fingers cautiously stroking the tender wound underneath.

"Is it bothering you that much?"

Opening an eye, Morgan located Elle sitting at her workstation, still working on her final report. She was momentarily halted, head tilted up as she spoke to Morgan. He grunted in dissent to her question, shaking his head and briefly closing his eyes again.

"Nah," he muttered, arching himself over the plastic edge of his chair, wincing once more at the loosening tension in his upper torso and the light jostle this action caused on his burn.

Elle's lips tightened in displeasure, the look on her face saying she was having none of Morgan's bull. Leaning forward on her desk, she fixed Morgan with a stern gaze.

"Go home," she said firmly. "You look like crap."

Morgan clicked his tongue. "And you look so much better."

"I didn't take a taser hit to the abdomen," she reminded him. Morgan just shrugged, slowly twisting his head side to side, his neck cracking loudly as he did. "Go home. Sleep. Hotch and Gideon gave us all the day off anyway. No more reason to be here."

Shrugging once more and huffing out a quick breath, Morgan grabbed his go-bag from where he had dropped it unceremoniously on the floor, the joints in his knees flaring up stiffly. "You going home soon?"

"Yeah, just as soon as I finish this," Elle said, returning her focus onto the file before her. "No more stalling, Derek. Get out of here before I force you out."

"You're a hardass, you know that?"

"Bye, Derek," she drawled in finality.

Morgan chuckled and tiredly sauntered out of the bullpen, offering a backwards wave to Elle as he went.

The walk to his truck was short, despite his sluggish pace. He rubbed his stinging eyes, dry from being kept open and conscious for so long, and he opened the door, sliding inside and tossing his go-bag in the backseat. As he turned the key in the ignition, Morgan came to a pause.

He slowly raised his hands to the steering wheel, the pads of his fingers stroking across the rim. Occasionally, he drummed them, a sense of restlessness awakening inside his exhausted body. Morgan chewed his inner cheek in conflict. His body was demanding for him to go home, lay down, and sleep. Hi s wound was throbbing against the bandage and the cloth of his black shirt. He had been awake for nearly twenty-four hours, pumped up on coffee and adrenalin. And yet...

His left foot bounced against the floor of his truck anxiously, his fingers tapping in quick succession on the steering wheel. He considered his options carefully. He held no desire to stop for another cup of coffee, nor did he feel hungry enough to seek breakfast. He was vibrating with nervous energy, but he definitely was not about to put his body through the exertion of working it off at the gym, especially with his wound holding him back. Turmoil clouded his mind, irritating indecisiveness prodded at the depths of his brain.

And in a quick flash, Morgan harshly slapped the wheel, yanked the gear into drive, and peeled out of the parking lot of the bureau. Joining the light morning traffic, Morgan gently pressed down on the accelerator, anxious. A destination was in mind now, and determination to reach it flared up inside of him.

Maneuvering down the roads, taking familiar turns, Morgan's thoughts turned to whether or not Reid was actually awake. Should Reid be sleeping, Morgan would feel horrible dragging the younger man away from his slumber; Reid's sleeping patterns had been inconsistent from the moment they met, and too often Reid would come into work with dark bags under his bloodshot eyes, armed with either peppermint tea or coffee to get him through the day. Reid probably slept the least out of the entire team, and the guy deserved sleep whenever he could get it.

At this dilemma, Morgan frowned, taking out his cell from his pocket while keeping his eyes on the road. At the next red light, he quickly sent a text, knowing it would risk less chance of waking Reid up than a call would.

You up?

He placed the phone on his thigh, resuming his drive when the light turned green. Less than a minute later, a shrill ring cut through the silence of Morgan's drive, and the older man replaced the phone to his ear as he answered it.

"Morgan."

"You couldn't just call to ask me that?"

Morgan chucked. "Well, good morning to you too, kid."

"Morning, Morgan."

"I just didn't want to wake you up, man. I thought you'd be asleep."

"No, I tried to sleep on the jet, but I didn't. And I, uh, I couldn't once I got home. I've been up this whole time."

Morgan frowned deeply. He initially caught the drowsy coarseness in Reid's voice and had felt momentarily guilty, thinking he had awakened the younger man. But the revelation that Reid had been up this entire time just as he had, never catching any sleep since yesterday, was a little unsettling. Especially since this was more than likely not the first time it's happened.

"So is something wrong? Is there a case?"

"No!" Morgan replied, swerving expertly into left-turning lane. "No, no, hell no. I just, um... You-You know what, it's stupid. Just forg-"

"Morgan, are you okay?"

The words caught in Morgan's throat at the gentle interruption. His eyes flicked over to the opposite lane of traffic, taking the first opportunity to turn left. Four more blocks and he'd be at Reid's place. Morgan sighed, briefly taking his hand from the steering wheel to run a hand over his scalp.

"Honestly... I don't know. Mind's all over the place, I guess. I was, uh, I was actually thinking of heading to your apartment. It's the reason I texted you in the first place."

There was silence on the other end in response to that. Morgan blinked, slowing his speed down ever so slightly in hesitation.

"Kid?"

"Come over." The tentative voice reappeared, soft in Morgan's ear.

"You sure? Maybe I should let you sleep."

"Nah, it wouldn't work anyway. Come over."

Morgan swallowed, relief flooding his insides. "Okay. See you then."

"Yeah, see you soon."

Ending the call, Morgan tossed his cell onto the passenger seat and pressed down on the accelerator for the last two blocks. Within seconds he was in the lot of Reid's apartment complex, swiftly pulling in to one of the parking spaces. Shutting off the engine, Morgan climbed out and walked up to the main entrance. He grinned at the tenant holding the door open, muttering a brief word of thanks as he slipped inside.

Having come over a few times before, he quickly made his way up the stairs to the second floor, twisting around the handrail to the door marked 23. Rubbing the back of his neck, he raised his knuckles to the wooden surface and knocked. Very soon afterward, giving Morgan the vague impression that Reid had been waiting nearby, the younger man opened the door.

Morgan smiled tiredly. "Hey, kid."

"Man, you look exhausted," Reid answered, brow was furrowed in worry.

Morgan rolled his eyes, moving to step inside the apartment. "You're 0 for 2 on greeting etiquette today, Reid."

"Sorry," Reid muttered. "Come on in. Do you-do you want a cup of coffee or something?"

As Morgan trudged inside, the bitter scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted up his nostrils. His stomach turned and he shrugged off a involuntary shiver; his body was still going through the aftereffects of his last dose of caffeine an hour prior, and the idea of consuming more was simply revolting at the moment.

"Nah, I'm fine," Morgan declined. "I had enough at work."

The door clicked shut behind him, and Morgan turned around to face an outwardly confused Reid standing at the entrance, frowning at Morgan with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Work? When were you at work? We have the day off today," Reid inquired.

"Yeah, I know," Morgan nodded. "I stayed behind after you all left. Elle was there too. She was helping me finish up the last of my reports."

"Why didn't you just go home? Those reports would have been there come tomorrow morning, though I have it on good faith that you would have passed them on to me regardless," Reid said.

The last bit startled a soft laugh out of Morgan, and he nodded once more, rubbing his quivering jaw. "Yeah, I..." He trailed off as a huge yawn escaped him. "Yeah, that... That sounds like me."

"Come on," Reid said, walking forward and gesturing toward the living area at the end of the apartment. "Go sit down. You look as if you're going to collapse at any moment."

Unable to find it in him to disagree, Morgan willingly obeyed, practically stumbling into the living room in his overly drowsy state. Reid followed quietly behind him, keeping his distance. Rounding around the back of the couch, Morgan plopped down heavily on the cushion, his stiff legs giving out on him. Reid settled onto the armchair beside him, raising his feet to the seat in a criss-cross position.

"Morgan," Reid said after a moment of neither of them speaking. "Is something... Is there something bothering you? You sounded distracted over the phone."

"Yeah, well..." Morgan replied, leaning back against the seat of the couch, breathing a sigh of pained relief as the cushion wrapped around his aching shoulders and torso, enveloping him in comfort. "Lot on my mind, I suppose."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Yeah, uh..." Morgan broke off with an airy chuckle, feeling a hint of ridiculous for what he was about to confide in Reid. "The safe house earlier. Shyer, he... He attacked me, you know?"

A flicker of surprise flitted across Reid's expression before his face sunk into compassionate understanding. Pursing his lips together, Reid leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Morgan, that wasn't your fault. He caught you off guard. There was no way you could have known it was him. He had us all fooled."

"That's just it though, isn't it?" Morgan cut in before Reid could continue, glancing up. "He did catch me off guard. My defenses were lowered, and I thought that... He was supposed to be one of us, y'know? I thought that I could take a breather, relax, because he was supposed to be ours."

"Morgan..."

"It's just... We trusted him." Morgan collapsed further into the couch, heaving out an elongated sigh.

Reid bit his lip. "I know."

"We did, Davenport, Trish and Cheryl... What am I supposed to make of that? How are we supposed to protect folks from the very people that are supposed to do the protecting?" Morgan asked, feeling the repulsion of the case outcome leak into his rant. He stared at Reid, eyes locked directly into his hazel orbs as if challenging the doctor to provide him with an answer.

There was a thick silence following Morgan's words. Reid stared back at him, lower lip tucked between his teeth, his eyes flashing and the gears in his head turning. Morgan blinked, feeling the remainder of the fight draining from his worn body.

"I don't really have a clear answer, Morgan," Reid whispered, looking fiercely apologetic. "I'm not sure anyone does. Shyer was sick. Pretty much everyone we hunt is sick in some shape or form, and unfortunately, even people of the law aren't immune to mental disease."

His voice trailed off into a light crack here, and Morgan's brow twitched but otherwise he showed no reaction to Reid's small break in composure. The younger man must have been more tired than he previously let on. Morgan nodded, rubbing his dry eyes.

"But we did stop him," Reid continued. "We stopped him and we saved Cheryl and recovered Trish. We're not perfect, Morgan. You know? We're not always going to know who the unsub is or capture them in time. But we did today. You did your best, and that's all we can ask."

Morgan reopened his eyes as his friend's speech drew to a close. He chest thrummed with a newfound fondness for the younger man. He allowed Reid's words to sink into his troubled mind and tried to wipe away the bitter thoughts of before.

Reid's somber expression suddenly changed, his eyes beginning to twinkle with affection and his lips pulling up into a kind half-smile. "You should get some sleep, Morgan," he whispered.

Morgan bobbed his head in a pitiful nod. The self-directed anger from earlier gradually slipped away, replaced with a warm, dulled sense of mind, and Morgan found it extremely difficult to keep his eyes open and his brain conscious. His eyelids trembling, his wound pulsing, and sleep darkening the edges of his vision, Morgan smiled sleepily at the blurred figure of Reid as exhaustion finally overwhelmed him, and he knew no more.

.

.

Well, that talk was short. I really didn't see Morgan staying awake much longer than that though; he really just wanted to get that off his chest before succumbing to sleep, and who better to help him than Reid! These chapters do seem to have a bit more friendly fluff, but I really want to elaborate on the friendship between Reid and Morgan, and kind of take things in a new perspective with Morgan's obliviousness to Reid's changing feelings. The next chapter will show a little bit of an aftermath, especially since LDSK doesn't have for another two weeks according to the CM Wikia.

How about that first episode of season eleven? Not sure if you guys have all seen it yet, so I won't post spoilers or anything like that! I'm so excited for what the season has in store, and I hope you guys are just as psyched as I am that CM is back on the screen! Hope you guys are enjoying this story so far, and please let me know what you think in a review or PM. It'd be highly appreciated! Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more!