Disclaimer: I do not own the team. Title and quotes from Tennyson's In Memoriam.
Summary: Mourning is never linear. Gideon's death, viewed through an ongoing series of drabbles.
Our Father's Dust
37
"But I remain'd, whose hopes were dim,/ Whose life, whose thoughts were little worth,/
To wander on a darken'd earth,/ Where all things round me breathed of him."
*
Every breath breaks painfully; Reid's twitching so hard that Morgan puts a hand on his back. Reid swats it away.
"Please… get off," he pants.
"You're having a panic attack."
"I know." He's braced with his hands against the wall.
"Sit down before you fall down," Morgan orders. Reid shakes his head.
So Morgan pulls them both to the floor. Reid slumps forward, breaking instantly into tears.
A little awkwardly, Morgan slings an arm around Reid's shoulders and pulls him closer.
"Sorry," Reid gasps.
"'sokay, kid," Morgan promises, squeezing his arm. "Ohhkay."
He says nothing else, just lets Reid cry.