"Reid," Hotch began tersely, approaching the pair of chairs in the hospital lobby, "Morgan, can I talk to the two of you?"
Knowing it was more of a statement than a question, neither Morgan nor Reid responded, both awkwardly averting their gazes to the ground, or Hotch's shoes. Reid fiddled with the cuff of the clean, dry FBI jacket Morgan had fetched him from the back of one of the squad cars.
"Hotch, I know what you're going to say," Morgan said quietly, looking into the middle distance between Reid and Hotch. "It turns out…it turns out she was after me this whole time." He forced himself to meet Hotch's cold stare. "I put everyone in danger."
"You're damn right, you did," Hotch finished curtly, "you both did." Reid's head slowly raised to look guiltily up at his Unit Chief. "Going anywhere unaccompanied is a gross negligence. It's incredibly reckless. You're lucky to be alive.
"And Reid, if you've got a hunch about an UnSub, there are no circumstances that permit what you did tonight."
"I know, Hotch," Reid muttered, his eyes lowering. "I just thought—"
"You deliberately put yourself and another agent in imminent danger," Hotch continued, "and another man is dead." Reid's face strained, as though hearing about Loco was causing him physical pain. Given the serious blow his temple had sustained in the last six hours, that was entirely possible.
"Thankfully, the doctors say Prentiss will be fine by morning," Hotch softened a tiny bit, seeing Reid's reaction to Loco, "and we'll be back in Quantico by the afternoon."
A moment of awkward silence hung in the air between the three men. Although Morgan and Reid both knew, in a sense, what was coming next, Hotch's statement was startling.
"And you can each take a few weeks off to think about this."
Morgan's jaw fell. "Hotch, I know what we did was reckless but we still got the UnSub." He raised his hands. "With the lack of help from the local cops, it's a wonder we didn't have five more victims."
"A—and with the nature of the UnSub," Reid piped up, "the context of our relationship has little to nothing to do with the case, other than Morgan's involvement, which would have happened anyway, and—"
"This is not a discussion." Hotch's nostrils flared. "You know the rules—both of you, and you know the position I'm in—and the one I'd be in if Strauss found out about all this," he flailed his hands on the word this to signify the two of them. "Take some time. Figure things out."
He shoved a hand into his left-side pocket, turning to leave them alone. When Morgan let his hands fall with a slap onto his jean pant legs, Hotch scoffed. "Don't act like you guys don't need the time to process everything that's happened in the last few hours." His eyes glanced down at Reid. "Work it out."
Morgan sank into the straight-backed chair as Hotch rounded the corner with Rossi in search of a vending machine. Since JJ was sitting up with Prentiss, this left Morgan and Reid alone in the waiting room, the simple wall clock silently marking the arrival of 2 a.m.
Neither spoke for a few long moments. Morgan tried to watch Reid out of the corner of his eye, but the younger profiler turned to steal occasional glances at him, and Morgan had to snap his head in the other direction, Reid following suit when his eye wandered back.
"What did Cherise mean," Reid croaked, his voice laced with pain, "about the baby?"
Morgan let out a woosh of air, leaning forward and letting his chin sink into his palms.
"There is no baby," Morgan said flatly. "There never was a baby." Reid's eyebrows rose, but he still didn't turn to face Morgan. "Once, right before we graduated high school, she was late. She got a test, but it was negative.
"She became obsessed with the idea of being pregnant, and that's…kind of when the delusions started."
Reid sat up straighter, finally turning his head. "What kind of delusions?"
Morgan shook his head. "At first, it was just the baby. Then, it was everything—her parents, college, me—she had a bad dream once, and fell out of bed," he made eye contact with Reid, "told everyone that I'd hit her.
"Desiree found out about everything, and refused to let her talk to me. Talked to her dad, and got her put on pills. They kept her in line, pretty much. After I left for college, everything sort of…fell apart." His gaze diverted again, setting back on the simple clock. "Honestly, I thought she'd forgotten all about me."
Reid let out a dry chuckle. "Nobody could ever forget you, Derek."
Morgan's face relaxed into a sad smile. "I really fucked up, Spence," he finally breathed, his head falling into his hands. "I'm really sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for," Reid countered dully, looking straight ahead. "If I hadn't acted so possessive, it wouldn't—"
"No, Pretty Boy," Morgan put a hand on Reid's knee, drawing his gaze. "I should have listened to you from the beginning."
Reid glanced away, biting his lower lip in thought. "I should have told you that I was going there." He paused, drawing and releasing a controlled breath. "I did call you, but it never got through, so I just…"
"Asked Loco for directions," Morgan finished quietly.
"Yeah," Reid nodded, the corners of his mouth creasing. "I guess there is a lot we have to work out."
"We don't have to do it right now, Pretty Boy," Morgan said, doing the old pretending-to-stretch-to-casually-put-his-arm-around-Reid move. Reid habitually relaxed his head against Morgan's collarbone, leaning into the embrace.
"I guess you're right," Reid said, resigning himself to his exhaustion. "You wanna know something?"
"Hmm."
"He told me I was all right."
Morgan smiled dryly, lightly kissing Reid's hair. "You are, Pretty Boy. You are."