"Hey, Baby Girl," Derek said into the phone, shutting the bathroom door behind him and enclosing himself in the too-small room again.
For a moment there was no answer, no sound on the other end; Derek frowned and checked the phone. "Garcia?" he asked, seeing it was still connected.
"You don't get to call me baby girl right now, Derek Morgan. Don't you dare act like this is fine, like everything's normal." Garcia's voice, though angry, wavered with tears; Derek rubbed a hand over his head and blew out a breath.
"Garcia, I'm sorry," Morgan said quietly. How much longer was he going to have to deal with this? He knew he deserved it, but there was only so much guilt a person could handle… "Listen, Penelope, honestly, I'm sorry for worrying you. I just had some… some things to sort out. It's okay now, I'm all right; we're all alright."
"No, things are not 'all right'!" she quoted bitterly. "You always do this! Go running off on your own without a care for the rest of your team and all the other people who care about you, who worry about what you're doing out there alone in the field! Why, why do you always do this?!"
"Penelope-"
"No, Derek! You don't get to talk me out of this one! You're hiding something from me, from the man who loves you more than anything, and from the rest of your team, your family! For once, I get to be mad at you and stay that way for as long as I want! You have forty-eight hours to get back to the rest of the team with our beloved and hopelessly innocent doctor or I will personally call down all the law enforcement officers I can get a hold of to drag you back here!" And with that threat, she slammed her hand down on the phone in her office, ending the call.
Derek stared at the phone in his hand as if it were liable to bite him; he'd never heard Garcia so angry, especially not with him. It hurt and he didn't want to admit it. Shaking his head, bewildered, he exited the bathroom again and headed for his go-bag.
Reid was standing by the window, gazing out the sliver of space he'd opened between the curtains; he leaned against the wall, arms crossed his chest. Derek's mind unhelpfully assessed his behavior; his posture said vulnerable but closed off, he was introspective even as he looked out into the night. Derek stopped his thoughts before any more could occur to him; the foremost rule on the team was never to profile each other.
Pulling on the tee shirt and sweats that would be pajamas for the night, he called, "Reid?"
The doctor shifted, slowly looking around at Derek. His face, for what may have been the first time in all the time Derek had known him, was unreadable. "What is it, genius?" Derek asked, masking his discomfort with his usual humor and grin. It was half-hearted at best and faded quickly when Reid didn't respond; Derek didn't have to ask, he knew what was coming.
"You know what, Derek," Spencer replied as if reading his mind. It wasn't so impossible as that; Spencer knew him well, almost inside and out. At worst it was an educated guess for the young genius.
"I don't want to have this conversation," Derek replied, just shy of brusque. He turned away and busied himself with rearranging half of the full-sized bed that they were to share.
"I know," Spencer said. Derek shot him a quick look; Reid was serious, more serious that he'd ever been, without even the slightest trace of his usual discomfort with high-tension conversations. He looked down, squeezed his hands into fists at his sides, and looked determinedly back up at Morgan.
"It wasn't really a request."
Derek blinked in surprise. It lasted for a few seconds before cooling into a controlled sort of anger. "No offence, Reid, but it's not your business," Derek said, the warm tones of his voice belying the chill in his words.
Reid stepped forward, pressing the confrontation; Morgan stood up straight, threatened.
"It is my business when you go off without trusting your team or me, when you admit to wanting to kill a man in cold blood, and then nearly follow through with it. You're a danger to us all."
"I'm what?" Derek replied disbelievingly, his mouth open in an incredulous smile.
"You heard me."
The smile was wiped off his face. "Listen, Reid, I don't know what you think you're doing but this conversation is over."
"You can't just arbitrarily decide to end a conversation because you don't like it!" Reid protested.
"Really? Watch me," Morgan replied, yanking back the covers with a little more violence than was strictly needed and proceeding to crawl into the bed.
"How'd it start, Morgan? He played football with you, right, taught you how to play? Did he walk in on you, maybe, in the dressing room in the youth center and you just shrugged it off, thinking maybe it was an accident? Or was he less subtle than that, just taking what he wanted before you realized what was happening?" Reid pressed.
Derek stiffened. "Drop it, Reid. Now." Derek's voice was dangerously low, threatening.
"Or did he tell you you were beautiful? Special? When did he start touching you, Derek?" Reid was shaking inwardly but he, for once, had good control of his voice; it didn't waver in the slightest and he was proud of himself, certain he was getting to Derek, was going to get him to talk.
Then Morgan leapt off the bed.
