Finally, he'd said the right thing.
Reid cringed every time he thought of his tension-induced rambling; it was like the circuit connecting his mouth and his brain went on overload and everything just came pouring out. Everyone had made fun of him at one point or another for it; today was one of the worst times he would always remember, when Emily had to step in and assure Derek's family that he wasn't talking about blaming Derek for this mess. Thank goodness Desiree and Sarah already knew what he was like from Derek's letters. Countless times, predictable reactions…
And he'd finally gotten it right.
Derek was resting quietly beside him now, both of them in the bed in their sleep clothes. For once, it was Reid sitting up, propped against pillows, with Derek's head on his shoulder. His breathing was deep and even but Reid knew he wasn't truly asleep, not yet; book in one hand, not really reading, Reid let his free hand wander in random patterns over Derek's arm and shoulder, feeling the slight rises and falls in his skin where his tattoos were.
Morgan shifted, one hand emerging from the blankets to rest, fingers spread, on Reid's abdomen. Reid twitched and shivered, the touch just this side of tickling. "Are you okay?" he asked, resting his pale hand on the back of Derek's neck. He knew Morgan found this comforting for some reason he didn't entirely understand.
"Yeah," Derek replied quietly. Some time passed, and then, "Are you?"
Reid smiled to himself. "Remind me some time to tell you what a public high school is like when you're twelve years old in a bunch of sixteen and seventeen year olds."
Derek's hand slid beneath his shirt to lay flat against his skin. His hand was warm and slightly rough; the touch wasn't sexual, though it often became so. No, they both just liked to touch each other, reminding themselves that this was real, that they were both here, now, safe for the time being from the horrors of their work. "That wasn't what I was referring to, and you know it."
Reid sighed, pulling his glasses off. "You sure you want to talk about this now?"
"Only if you do."
"You didn't hurt me, Derek, not physically. Mentally… I don't know yet. You scared me, but you already knew that much. It's just…"
"Just?" Derek prompted, half-fearful of what he was about to hear.
Reid shifted uneasily; Derek took the unconscious hint and sat up, reluctantly withdrawing his hand. Reid was looking down at his hands, twisting them anxiously in his lap. He had that look on his face that Derek hated so much, that one that made him look entirely too young. "You're-" was all he could make out of the following sentence that consisted mostly of muttering after that. He frowned in confusion, concern, and a host of other emotions he couldn't sort out.
"Spencer, you don't have-"
"You're supposed to be my protector!" Reid half-yelled, eyes squeezed shut as he spoke to his lap. Derek's eyes went wide at his sudden intensity. "You're supposed to be there and keep me from getting hurt, which, I understand is nearly an impossible task given my propensity for adverse events- I believe I've been injured in some way more than the rest of the team combined, if I remember correctly but still! I trust you, count on you to be there; you have this strange ability to predict exactly where you need to be in order to save my life, I guess I've kind of gotten used to it."
All of that was said with the kind of dazzling speed that took practice to understand. When he tapered off, Reid just sat there, still staring at his twisting hands while Derek tried to figure out just how deeply the damage had gone. Reid apparently decided to help him out.
"You're not supposed to hurt me," he said softly after another of the pauses that had been frequenting their conversations that night. "That was the one thing I needed you not to do."
Derek reached out, his eyes anguished, then stopped, unsure whether touching Reid would make things better or worse. Instead, he balled his hands up and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes in utter frustration and bitter regret.
"Derek, don't-"
"I knew," he said flatly. "Somehow, somewhere, I always knew you thought something like that. I tried to live up to it, I did, for whatever reasons. And now I screwed it up so badly. I'm sorry, God, I'm so sorry…"
"I know," Reid sighed. He reached out, tracing his fingers over Derek's cheekbone. "Derek, I know!" Reid insisted a bit more loudly when Derek continued his murmured apologies. His fingers reached under Derek's chin, turning his face toward him. "You see now why I didn't want to tell you? I know you blame yourself, you always do when stuff like this happens."
"For good reason, don't you think?" Derek said sarcastically. Reid flopped back against the pillows.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Evidence your self hatred when there's no cause for it. I'm not mad at you, why should you be mad at yourself?"
"Because you should be mad at me! Hell, you should have thrown me out of this apartment and called Hotch and told him everything! How the hell can you still love me after that?"
Reid had finally had enough. He shot back upright, grabbed Derek's face between his hands, and roughly yanked the other profiler around to face him. "Stop it!" he demanded. "Stop blaming yourself, stop taking everything as if it was your fault and your fault alone, just stop!" Derek sat frozen in surprise.
"Damn it!" Reid yelled in frustration, swinging his legs out of the bed and standing up. He stalked to the door and for one terrible moment, Derek thought he was going to walk out. His heart literally stopped. Then Reid whirled and stalked back and Derek realized the genius was just pacing. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth… Morgan merely watched as the doctor wore himself out. Finally, he rubbed one hand over his face, muttering, "I need coffee."
Derek looked over at the table that always seemed to be present next to the beds in hotel rooms. The clock said 12:36. "Reid, it's past twelve o'clock in the morning, are you serious?"
"No," Spencer muttered, "I'm just a caffeine addict who right now could seriously use a fix."
"Come on, come back to bed," Derek coaxed. "How about we just let this go for tonight?" Reid sighed deeply as he walked back and, with his usual awkward sort of grace, clambered back into the bed.
"Let's. I detest jet lag," Reid muttered and Derek laughed softly. The youngest agent always tended to act more childishly when he was over-tired. Reid reached out and switched off the lamp before wiggling more securely into Morgan's arms.
"I love you, you realize that, right?"Derek whispered in Reid's ear, suddenly needing to make that perfectly clear.
Reid murmured sleepily, but with a distinct overtone of contentment.