Chapter 8
Morgan picked up his gun and began to run down the stairs heedlessly, his weapon pointed at the two men lying on the floor before him. If that sonuvabitch had killed Reid, he was not leaving this house alive, not if Morgan had anything to do about it.
"Reid!" he called again, his voice raspy from the previous screams. Footsteps were sounding now, all approaching the stairs. Obviously the other agents had heard the gunshot and were now running to see what had happened.
A groan from the bottom of the stairs made Morgan's heart jump into his throat. He noticed Reid stirring from where he had been lying, his hand pressing against his shoulder. Morgan sighed in relief as he finally arrived at the bottom floor. He looked to see what had become of Abel Lackner. The other man was lying prone on the ground, bleeding from the head. His gun was lying some ways away.
"You OK, kid?" Morgan asked, not dropping his gun from pointing at the man who had caused all this to happen. No way was he letting Abel out of his sight, even if the man seemed to be knocked out for the moment. Still, he could be pretending. Morgan knew that protocol said that he should be apprehending the unsub, but he didn't want to move until he was sure that his friend was all right and out of danger.
"According to the modern definition of 'OK', I'm going to say that, no, I am not OK. I am, though, alive." Reid sat up, his face pale in the little light inside the house. Morgan glanced sideways at him and noticed that the genius's hand was covered in blood which was steadily leaking from his shoulder. "And, considering the fact that this is the second time I've nearly died today, I'm going to say that's quite an achievement."
Morgan smiled despite himself. If Reid was being sarcastic about his situation and speaking in his usual intelligent way, he couldn't be too hurt. Although, from what he'd seen over the years, the young man had a high pain tolerance, despite his physique. Not everyone could go through what the boy had been through and make it.
"What happened?" Hotch's voice sounded loudly as he stepped into the hallway. He noticed Reid sitting on the floor and Morgan with his weapon pointed at the unconscious figure of the unsub. Seeing that his own gun didn't seem to be needed at the moment, he holstered it and knelt next to the youngest member of his team. "Are you all right?" Hotch asked Reid.
Reid managed a crooked grin. "Aside from being shot in the shoulder, yeah, I'm good."
Morgan went over the unsub, pulling a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. After nearly murdering Reid, the guy deserved much worse than prison, in Morgan's opinion. However, his opinion didn't quite matter in this case. Still, he would be sure to pull as many strings as he could to get Lackner more jail time. He had to pay for trying to hurt the boy genius.
Abel Lackner stirred slightly as Morgan grasped his wrists and forced them into the handcuffs. "Wha…?" he asked, still out of it.
"Quiet!" Morgan growled. "You are now under arrest and have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," he began reciting, his heart not really in it. Instead, he was watching Hotch supporting Reid and JJ, who'd arrived not long after, calling for an ambulance. "You have the right to representation. If you cannot afford it, a lawyer will be provided for you."
The words ceased to matter as he got Abel to his feet. The man seemed fine, other than a small cut on his forehead that trickled blood into his eye. Morgan didn't care, though. Reid was the only one who mattered at the moment. In fact, Morgan was reluctant to leave the room when the young profiler was still lying on the floor. JJ noticed this with her keen eyes, and she walked over to Morgan. "I'll take him," she said. "I'll let the paramedics know where to go." She smiled at Morgan kindly and took Abel's arm from his hands.
As she began to lead him away, Morgan clenched and unclenched his hands, glaring after the man who'd dared shoot his friend. A moan called his attention back to the room. Looking back down at Reid, Morgan noticed that Hotch had taken over applying pressure on the gunshot wound. "Come on, Reid. Stay awake," the Unit Chief was saying.
Morgan suddenly felt nauseous. He'd thought Reid was fine, but apparently, the genius was worse off than he'd first imagined. The prophecy couldn't come true. Not after all that had happened! Holstering his gun, Morgan knelt as well, staring into the genius's eyes. The brown orbs were glazed and unfocused, the rings around them made more prominent from the pallor of the boy's face. "Stay with me, kid," Morgan said to him insistently.
Reid's eyes focused for a minute on the dark-skinned profiler. He smiled weakly at Morgan. "Hey, Morgan," he said quietly. "I feel dizzy." His voice was nearly a whisper, and his eyelids were drooping slowly.
"Reid!" The boy's eyes focused on him once more. "Listen to me. You cannot pass out right now," Morgan ordered. Despite his demands, he could feel the genius slipping away. "Reid!"
Reid's eyes closed and his head fell back against Hotch's shoulder. The Unit Chief, who was still holding him up, looked worried. It was strange to see the usually serious face screwed up in worry. Morgan paid no attention to the strange look on his boss's face, though. He was focused on Reid's limp body. The younger profiler was gone.
-)-(-
Morgan blew on his fourth cup of coffee of the night. Steam rose up from the paper cup, filled with dark liquid. It was not particularly good, but it was the only one available in the sterile environment. Morgan preferred to have bad coffee to no coffee, so he made do with what he had.
He was once more in the hospital he'd visited earlier that day. This time, though, he wasn't joking with Prentiss or any of the other profilers. He was more much more serious than he'd been earlier.
As he walked over to room 310, he noticed a doctor walking by. He opened his mouth to speak to the man. Doctor Rénique noticed Morgan's actions, and he shook his head. "No, there has been no change yet," he repeated for what must have been the fortieth time in the past hour.
Morgan's mouth closed and his shoulders sagged. He nodded sadly and then stopped before room 310. Peeking in through the small window on the door, Morgan could see the figure of the youngest profiler lying immobile on the bed. He was breathing steadily, and some of the machines hooked up to him were flashing numbers. Morgan knew nothing about medicine, but he was pretty sure all those numbers were in the normal range. That did not explain, however, why the young man would not wake up.
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Morgan turned to look into Prentiss's kind face. "Morgan. Pacing up and down in front of his door isn't going to make him wake up any faster. You should get some rest. Hotch and I are going to join JJ and Rossi at the hotel. You should come with us."
Morgan shook his head roughly. "Nah. I'm not leaving him. I want to be here when he comes to." He wanted to say something to the kid, anything; to apologize for not protecting him better, to tell him why he'd been acting so strangely lately.
Prentiss nodded understandingly. "Well, if you change your mind, let us know," she replied before walking away. She had known that her suggestion would be disregarded, but she'd tried anyway. She'd noticed the bond between the two men long ago. She knew that they were practically siblings. It made sense that Morgan wouldn't leave Reid's side now.
Morgan watched the retreating woman until she turned the corner. Then, he opened the door to the quiet room and walked in. A chair was pulled up close to the bed. Morgan made a beeline for it and sat down. The coffee steamed as he sipped it, the liquid scalding his tongue. He'd been waiting for a few hours now for the other profiler to wake up. Reid had arrived at the hospital with an exacerbated concussion that had caused him to pass out on the scene, and a bullet through the shoulder. The bullet hadn't damaged much, luckily, and as soon as it was pulled out, a bandage was placed over the hole. Reid would be fine in a few weeks. The concussion, though, had the doctors worried. They would be able to know more once the kid woke up, but until that happened they were pretty much in the dark.
Morgan had spent a long while walking up and down the hallways. The team had taken turns sitting next to the youngest member, and now, it was Morgan's turn once more. He was prepared for a long wait.
As he watched the young genius, his mind wandered. The prophecy the woman had proclaimed still made him nervous, but so far, Reid had survived two accidents. Could it be that she had been wrong?
At that moment, the boy's nostrils twitched, and his eyes began to open. Morgan leaned forwards, grinning. He was ecstatic to see some form of reaction in the youngest profiler. "Reid! How are you feeling?" he asked.
Reid grimaced as the lights struck his eyes. His tongue licked his lips weakly, and he grimaced. "Coffee," he groaned, feeling too groggy and sore to be more polite.
Morgan laughed, setting his cup on the bedside drawer and instead grabbing a glass of cold water which had been placed there. "I don't think you can have that for a while, kid," he said as he held the straw to Reid's lips.
The young man pouted before finally giving in to his thirst and taking a long draught of the water. Once he was satisfied, he turned away. Morgan put the glass down, and looked at Reid intently. "So, are you feeling all right?"
Reid moaned. "I feel as if I'd fallen down the stairs and gotten shot," he commented. He turned bright eyes onto Morgan. "I could be better," he amended.
"I know you don't usually like pain medication," Morgan began, "but are you sure-"
"No," Reid interrupted forcefully, beginning to sit up. "Nothing like that."
Morgan nodded. "Of course."
There was a moment of silence in the room. Both of the profilers were content to remain in their own thoughts for a minute: Morgan in a sea of relief, and Reid sorting through jumbled moments that were all scrambled up from his bump on the head.
Finally, a voice spoke. "You were worried," Reid mentioned.
Morgan shrugged. "I guess. We all were. You did get shot."
"Yeah, but you knew…" Reid blinked slowly as he considered how the other profiler had been acting lately. It didn't make sense, though. Nobody could know what was to come. "It's almost like you knew that something would happen to me. I thought it was just you being stupid about the car, but you knew something would happen."
The older man shook his head. "No, of course not. Nobody can tell the future." Reid stared at him seriously, penetratingly. Morgan finally sighed in defeat. "Ok, but it's really really stupid." Reid eased down on the stare, but was still gazing at him expectantly. "You remember the psychic Garcia told you about?"
Reid frowned as he searched for the correct memory in his jumbled soup of thoughts. Then, he nodded. "Yes," he said. "What about her?"
"Well," Morgan hesitated. "She said I would lose somebody close to me. And, after what happened, I thought that was you."
Reid raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Morgan, outside of fiction, nobody is able to predict the future, not even self-proclaimed psychics."
"I know, but what she said to Garcia and Prentiss did happen! Garcia was surprised by Kevin, and the guy proposed to Prentiss." Morgan noticed Reid's raised eyebrow. "But that's not important. Don't you see? She said that, and next thing I know, you nearly die twice!"
"Morgan," Reid sighed, "I didn't die, though. And, it's only the belief in her that gives her prophecies power. Psychics don't really exist."
"I know, kid. But, what happened over the last few days made me doubt that." Morgan put his face in his hands. "I thought I'd lose you."
"You didn't lose me, though," Reid smiled. "Unfortunately, I'll still be here to give you statistical facts you never wanted to hear." Morgan gave a choked laugh at that comment. It seemed that the genius had caught on to the fact that his rattling off statistics could be considered annoying, but mostly amusing. "And, you won't be losing me any time soon," Reid finished.
"Promise?"
"I swear," Reid said solemnly, before grinning. "Now can I have some coffee?"
"Fat chance, kid." Morgan smiled. Everything was well.
(A/N) One more chapter and then this story is officially over! I did consider cutting it off as Reid passed out, but I could never be that mean to you guys :P Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and they finally had the talk about the psychic! Now, the question is, was she a fraud who just got lucky, or was she, despite Reid's beliefs, actually saying the truth? Thoughts? Maybe you'll find out in the next chapter!
As usual, thanks to my wonderfully gorgeous reviewers. You guys deserve lots and lots of homemade cookies after sticking around for so long. Unfortunately, I can't give you those, but I can send you lots of imaginary ones! Delivered instantly too! Thanks to: jenny crum, 20000 WPM, and TheMysteriousGeek2345. You guys are the absolute best!
Anyway, I'll probably be back next week with the very last chapter! I hope you enjoy this until then! Bye!
