Note: The first of three reveals! Was a little tough to write, even though I'd been planning for this for a long time.
Beta-reader: Bardicfaerie.
Chapter summary: The origins of one Derek Morgan.

Chapter 25

It was dark out and even the most party-hard people had turned in by the time Morgan finally stopped walking. He was lucky the ship was as big as it was, or he would have been forced to go around in circles hours ago. He made it back to his suite just as the sun was starting to peek over the horizon and tapped the function on his handheld. The door silently slid open, then closed behind him. Everything was dark inside of their suite but he couldn't tell if Reid was asleep or if he'd gone out. He hoped the young doctor was only sleeping, because he didn't like the thought of Spencer wandering around alone out there, not after being attacked so many times, and certainly not after hearing that their enemies found him expendable. As if he were a worker whose employer were thinking of firing. He should never have left him alone, no matter how uncomfortable he'd felt. Better to answer the younger man's questions than to come back to an empty room.

He all but ran through the living room area and was ready to punch the bedroom door if it didn't open for him. Thankfully, it did, and there was just enough light in the room for him to see the form of the young doctor lying on top of the mattress. The tension ebbed out of his shoulders and he walked in quietly. Reid was sleeping right in the middle of the bed, his tablet half under one hand. Morgan sat beside him and eased the rigid reading pad away, setting it down onto the nightstand closest to him. Spencer moved his head and murmured something in his sleep, making the older man smile in spite of himself. When Reid tried to bury deeper under the covers, Morgan chuckled and the young doctor frowned. "Morgan?" he mumbled questioningly.

"I'm here," the smuggler answered. "What do you say you leave me some room to get into bed, mm?" He took off his belt and got out of his tunic. Reid shuffled away as best he could, twisted as he was into the bed covers. Morgan took his boots and socks off and lay down in his loose cotton trousers, helping Reid to untangle himself as best he could, just so that he could slide under the blanket himself. Then he pulled the young doctor closer, giving him a light squeeze when Spencer snuggled against his side. "I'm sorry," he said, staring up at the ceiling.

"For what?" Reid mumbled against his skin.

"Leaving so suddenly last night," Morgan replied.

There was a long silence. When Spencer finally answered, he said, "I'm sleeping, Morgan."

The older man chuckled and squeezed him again. He kept staring as the sun came up and light shone brighter and brighter into their room. He wasn't aware of when he finally drifted off, but he came awake to an empty bed. The door was closed, but he was pretty certain Reid was in the other room. He sat up and stretched, pondering on taking a shower now versus later. He finally decided that he'd exercise a bit first, seeing how he hadn't managed to keep his usual routine for the entire time they'd been on New Nevada, and then he'd shower and have coffee. When he stepped out into the main room after his workout, Reid was on the couch and turned to him to say good morning. Only, he forgot to. His eyebrows arched up high and his eyes travelled appreciatively down Morgan's chest, obviously liking the look of his boyfriend's body when it was slicked with the sweat of an intense workout. Morgan snorted. "So, should I go shower or just go back to bed?"

Reid coloured slightly and, his eyes fixed firmly on Morgan's face, he shook his head. "Take your shower," he said. "I'll make more coffee." He pushed himself up and planted a kiss on Morgan's lips before slipping out of the smuggler's arms when he tried to embrace him. "Shower," he laughed. "I just took mine."

Oh well. Morgan made his way to the bathroom and showered quickly, shaved, then got dressed in a clean set of clothes. When he stepped out of the bathroom again, he was greeted with the smell of fresh coffee. Reid was pouring some into a mug, and Morgan wasn't sure for whom it was intended, so he made his way over and wrapped both arms around Spencer's waist, asking, "Is that for you or for me?"

Spencer chuckled. "It was for me, but I could be convinced to let you have it." Derek breathed out a laugh and kissed the side of his neck. "Okay," Reid said, "I'm convinced." He held the mug to the side and Morgan took it from him and went to sit at the table. Spencer put something in the tiny oven and picked up his own mug to pour more coffee into it. When the oven beeped, he brought the plate he'd taken out of it along with his own mug of caffeine to the table. He sat across from Derek and pushed the plate towards him. "Got you breakfast," he said. "Sorry it's reheated; I didn't think you'd sleep quite so late."

"Nah, that's fine," Morgan said. "Thanks." He took a bite and looked at his boyfriend, chewing slowly, wondering when Reid was going to start asking questions. The young doctor tilted his head and arched an eyebrow, but Morgan only shook his head and went back to his food. Breakfast went by in silence, and perhaps Spencer wasn't sure how to ask what he'd obviously started to guess the previous night, but he didn't speak up, not once. Finally, Morgan pushed his plate away and got up to pour himself another cup of coffee. "So," he said, his back still turned to Reid, "aren't you going to ask?"

"Ask what?" Spencer wanted to know.

Morgan turned around and leaned back against the sideboard. "Who I am and where I'm from," he specified. "I thought you wanted to know."

"I do want to know," the younger man said, turning in his seat so he could look at Morgan. "But only if you're ready to share."

"But you've already started to guess," Derek said, "else you wouldn't have kicked the others out last night."

Reid nodded. "I have. I am pretty certain that you're not just a Derek Morgan but the Derek Morgan." He licked his lips slowly. "You're not just someone whose parents are history or film buffs, but you're actually the one history buffs name their sons after."

Morgan blinked and raised his eyebrows. "People name kids after me?" he asked. "I feel like I should feel kind of flattered, but I just don't get why they would."

"You make a kind of romantic historical figure, you know? Like Robin Hood or King Arthur." Reid had a little smile, watching him walk around the table again.

"Who're Robin Hood and King Arthur?" Morgan asked out of habit, sliding back into his chair.

"I'd tell you," Spencer said, smile widening, "but you already know the answer, don't you? Better than a smuggler born thirty-some years ago would."

Morgan shrugged. "Maybe." He looked at Reid quietly for some time. When he spoke up again, his voice was much calmer than he thought it would be, under the circumstances. "I've never told anyone what happened back there."

"I know," Reid said softly, "or at the very least, I can think of many reasons why you wouldn't want to." He took a sip of coffee and added, "When you said no one remembered any of the gunfights you'd been in, you were being pretty literal, weren't you."

Morgan chuckled. "Yeah, yeah I was."

"So," Reid said, looking up at him. "Here is Derek Morgan, thirty-three years old yet born in Chicago, on Earth, which was destroyed over two hundred years ago." He huffed out a small, amused laugh. "I don't see why you'd ever want to keep that quiet."

Morgan chuckled. "Yeah, no reason not to broadcast that, huh." He eyed Spencer quietly for some time, before finally commenting, "I thought you'd have a million questions."

"I do have many questions," the young doctor said, "though maybe not as many as a million." He paused and licked his lips pensively. "I don't want you to feel pressured to tell me anything now, though. I figure you'll tell me if you want me to know."

Derek frowned at him. "Is that actually okay with you? Not knowing, I mean." He sat back in his chair running one hand over his head. "I thought you'd probably hate not knowing things."

Spencer laughed. "Derek," he said, the smuggler's first name sounding so right falling from his lips, "I know just enough about many, many things to be aware of the fact that I will never, ever know everything." He stole a bit of bread from Morgan's plate, which was all right with the smuggler since he was done eating anyway. When he had swallowed, Reid continued, "I'd love to know more about you, but not if it upsets you. I'd rather not know than chase you away by being too annoying."

"Well," Morgan said after a moment, "I think it'd be fine to talk now. You've already guessed all that I know, anyway."

"So you don't know how it happened?" the young doctor asked.

Derek shook his head. "Not a clue." He sighed, then shook his head again. "I mean, what I said yesterday about finding the Aurora, all of it was true. Only by the time I got back to my Ma's, two years had passed and I was branded a deserter. It was only a month or so for me. The fighting had moved away, but I was still afraid." He sighed again, and took a sip of coffee so he could stall long enough to be certain he had himself under control.

"Because for you, only a few weeks had gone by," Spencer said softly.

Morgan looked up at him and nodded. "Got Mama and the girls on the Aurora and left," he said after a moment. Then he felt silent, thinking back on those days spent aboard the Aurora with his mother and sisters. "By the time we got to Kaltek," he began again, but he wasn't sure how to finish his sentence, so he let it hang.

"More than two hundred years had passed," Reid finished for him, and Morgan nodded. Some more time went by in silence, the two men lost in thoughts. "How much time had passed for you?" Spencer finally asked.

"Not quite three months," Derek answered easily. "I thought we'd just reached some outpost, far from Earth, far from the war."

"Say," Spencer suddenly said, "what about the birth record and DNA-map? I finally understand why you had to asked if my mother not registering my birth was legal, but it wasn't done on Earth, so what did you do?"

"Rossi," Morgan answered. "I was lucky to hit an immigration officer who wasn't entirely legal and he referred me to David Rossi who arranged to have records made for us. I've been working with him since, though not every job I take is through him."

Reid nodded. "Does he know?"

"About the whole two hundred year thing?" Morgan shook his head. "He doesn't. He thinks I'm some kid from a backwater planet who came to Kaltek not knowing anything." He paused. "In a way, that wasn't entirely untrue."

Reid laughed quietly. "I guess it wasn't." He took a bit of coffee. "Wow," he said once he'd swallowed, "don't take this the wrong way, but I think I'm having a bit of an inner fanboy moment right now."

The smuggler made a face. "What? Why?!"

"You have to realize something," Spencer said, "you've just told a self-titled science fiction buff that you come from the past on a spaceship you've found on a desert planet. You don't know where the ship's from. It could be alien, for all we know. Also, you don't know how the time-travel happened, which would infer that there might be more the ship is capable of." He laughed. "Also, I totally had a boyhood crush on the mythical Derek Morgan."

Derek blinked. "I hadn't thought of that." He threw Spencer a look. "So, you fell for me because of my name or because of my charms?"

The young doctor shook his head slowly. "I was curious about you at first because of the name. I fell for your good looks and the easy manner with which you made things happen." He paused. "And, I guess, because I was always so aware of you all of the time after that trek through the desert."

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked.

Reid shrugged. "I don't know, or at the very least, I'm not sure. It's just suddenly, I realized that I liked when I looked at you and you were looking at me instead of the controls of your ship. And though I want to be back en route as soon as possible so that I can see my mother, I," he hesitated a moment, "I kind of wished we'd never find the Aurora." He winced. "It's even worse saying that out loud. I was jealous of a ship."

Morgan laughed. "Well, she's my girl, and you can't replace her." He saw the young doctor lower his head and he chuckled. "But your my boy, and she can't replace you either," he assured him. "You will just have to learn to share me."

Reid thought about it for a moment. "You don't have sex with your ship, do you?"

Morgan had been taking a sip of coffee and he promptly choked on it. "Wh-what?!"

"Because I don't think I could deal with that," Reid went on.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," Morgan said, holding a hand up. "Did you just ask me if I was having sex with a spaceship?!"

"I read that some people do," Spencer said, looking way too serious for the topic at hand.

"What, you serious?!" At the young doctor's nod, Derek quickly assured him, "No, Reid, I am certainly not having sex with my ship." He paused. "I can't believe I had to say that out loud."

"I don't think it's up to me to criticize how other people see or express their own sexuality," Spencer said seriously. "I just wanted to be clear on the fact that I don't want you to seek sexual release elsewhere."

"Not even my own hand?" Morgan wanted to know. Reid levelled an eloquent look at him. "What, I'm just sayin'." Spencer huffed, making Derek grin. "Okay then, I get it. No sex with people other than one Spencer Reid. So long as you don't fantasize about any other Derek Morgan."

"I thought you were the only real one?" Reid asked.

"Ah, but there's the one you imagined in your head when you were younger, right? Was he more handsome?" Morgan gave him his best grin, striking a pose at the same time.

Reid laughed. "No, he doesn't compare to the real thing, that's for sure."

"Really now," Morgan said, "that's good to know." He laughed and Reid smiled with him. After a moment, Morgan asked him, "So, like, what do they say about me?"

Reid frowned confusedly. "Who do you mean?"

"You know," Derek said, making a vague movement with his hand. "People. You said I was a mythological person like Robin Hood and King Arthur, right? And people get named after me. But the last I saw of my own time, I was deemed a rebel and a traitor who had deserted his post."

"You crashed your ship, right?" Spencer asked. The smuggler nodded, so the younger man continued, "Your ship was seen."

It was Morgan's turn to be hopelessly confused. "What do you mean?"

"Before the Aurora, you were on the Seeker, right? It was seen, many, many times since your disappearance. Each time, it was seen by people about to die from an enemy attack, be it unscrupulous space pirate or some unavoidable collision. The phenomenon's been said to be induced by mass hysteria, or the proof that the first few centuries of space exploration were made by unscientific, uncivilized, superstitious people. But by then, some movie people had made the story into an epic tale that people loved and you kind of became legend."

"Really?" Morgan grinned. "I think I'd love to see that movie."

"The movies – yes," Reid added when he saw Morgan's look, "they made more than one – disappeared from publication around sixty years ago. Only devoted collectors have access to them nowadays." He had a secret little smile. "I happen to own a copy of each movie. The tale is fairly common; they had you pegged as a lone hero who, disillusioned with the reality of war, decided to save people who didn't deserve the violence dealt onto them by an over-abusive and over-controlling government."

"That's," Morgan began, but then he wasn't sure what he thought of that, so he shook his head. "Er, that's kind of nuts."

Reid laughed. "Oh, it doesn't end there," he said. "From the typical hero who saves people from an oppressive ruler, a theme that was worked on multiple times through the millennia, they gradually went into another common theme in myths."

"What's that?" Derek asked him.

"A true hero," Spencer said with a happy little smile. "One who comes magically whenever one needs help, wherever one needs saving. Like an ancient god, or some of PSA superheroes, you'd just appear with your ship whenever there was a damsel in distress left to die tethered to an asteroid with only two days left of oxygen in her tank, or whenever there was a starliner full of passengers heading towards a supernova. They made you more handsome, more dashing, and more popular than Han Solo himself."

Derek let the smile that wanted to form slowly pull his lips upwards. "Who's Han Solo?" he asked, as if he didn't know better than anyone born in the past two hundred years.

Spencer smiled and lightly said, "Oh, I doubt you've ever heard of him. He's just a Pre-Space Age mythological character that inspired our forefathers to reach for those stars we now travel to."

"Really," Derek said, loving how Spencer was playing along, "you don't say."