Morgan clutched the steering wheel and kept his eyes and part of his mind concentrated on the road. The rest of his thoughts were on Reid.
He thought of Reid before the shooting. He'd been so full of life. Now the team genius hardly spoke. There was a quiet about him that went beyond just not speaking. It was like he wasn't entirely with them anymore.
'PTSD,' Morgan thought as he maneuvered the car through a busy intersection. The kid was suffering from trauma caused by the shooting. And with today's advances in medicine, trauma could be treated.
Morgan turned off the busy road into a neighborhood. Just as he spotted the witness's house, his phone rang. Morgan pulled to the side of the street and looked down to see who was calling. After thinking about Reid for most of his drive, he was almost disappointed to see Garcia's name on his screen.
"Hey, Garcia."
"What? No Baby Girl greeting today?" came the reply.
Morgan forced himself to smile. "Sorry, Baby Girl. Was thinking about something else."
"Reid?"
"…yeah."
"How is he? Did you talk to him?"
"I tried to corner him last night, but he wasn't real receptive. I think he knows we're all worried about him and he's not ready to confront us yet."
"You don't think he… I mean, this isn't like before, right? With Hankel?"
Morgan had wondered that himself. Was Reid using again? Morgan didn't think so. This time was different. Reid wasn't acting hostile or locking himself away. He was always present with at least one team member—usually Hotch. He wasn't wearing long sleeves to hide the marks on his arms. Or was he? Morgan tried to recall a single item of clothing he'd seen Reid wear just in the past week. A vest? A tie? Nothing specific came to mind. For an observant profiler, the thought that Morgan couldn't picture something so simple was worrying.
"You still there?" Garcia's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Yeah, but I need to go. Hotch wants me to talk to Garvez again and I just got to the house."
"Right, that's the reason I called. Garvez has an illegitimate son that left home when he was a teenager. Up until then he was raised by Garvez who paid for top-notch schooling, after school programs, the works. This boy didn't lack anything until he dropped off and disappeared."
"Disappeared? From you?"
"Oh, Sugar, obviously not from me. The son headed north and spent some time in Milwaukee at a certain address where there lives one Jessica Robins."
"Birth mom?"
"Undoubtedly. And by that I mean I have hospital records. She and Garvez had a short fling about twenty-three years ago. Five years ago when the son turned eighteen, he ran away to mom's house and must have gotten a pretty good reunion because he's been there ever since."
"I'm guessing the kid's no longer with her now, though?"
"The other way around. She's no longer with him. Died of suicide a month ago."
"That could be the stressor. Garcia, do me a favor and call the rest of the team. I'll wait until they arrive before I talk to Garvez."
"You got it. Morgan, one more thing."
"What is it?"
"I dug into medical records for Jessica. It turns out she suffered from severe depression and anxiety."
"Seeing a parent suffer like that can be hard on anyone. Thank, Garcia." He hung up and looked back at the house.
Morgan took a deep breath and tried to focus on the case. It sounded pretty likely that Garvez's son was the unsub. Watching a parent succumb to devastating mental disorders could have a dark effect on anyone. Reid could talk about that for days.
The thought of Reid brought Morgan's mind right back to the genius. Morgan had to get the kid to talk. His behavior wasn't healthy. He'd completely changed since the shooting. Morgan didn't even see him drink coffee anymore.
Fifteen minutes later, several dark SUVs passed where Morgan waited on the side of the road and stop in front of the Garvez residence. Three agents climbed out of the vehicles and Morgan went to join them. He stood among Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss. JJ must have stayed behind to prepare statements for the press.
"Where's Reid?" Morgan asked.
"Here," said a quiet voice from the back of the group.
For a moment, Morgan could only stare. He could have sworn he only saw three agents arrive at the house. Somehow, he'd missed Reid.
Hotch took command. "Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi, wait with the cars. If Garvez knows where his son is, I want you three ready to pick him up immediately. Reid, come with me."
Morgan stepped forward. "Hotch, I'd like to talk to Garvez. I talked to him before. He knows me and might respond better if I'm the one to ask him about his son."
After a moment of consideration, Hotch nodded. "Alright. Let's go."
The three members of the team moved toward the door. It looked uninviting with a 'No Soliciting" sign and curtains pulled shut on all the windows. Hotch knocked and a moment later they heard a voice on the other side.
"Who is it?"
"Mr. Garvez? It's Agent Morgan from the FBI. We have a few more questions we need to ask you. Can you let us it?"
There was a pause. Then Garvez responded. "Now isn't a good time. Please come back later."
Morgan looked at Hotch, then realized Reid wasn't with them anymore. He looked around for the kid, but he seemed to be missing.
Hotch hadn't noticed the genius's absence. He was talking to Garvez through the closed door. "I'm sorry, Mr. Garvez. This can't wait. Please let us in."
"His son is in there with him. He has a gun." The words were quiet, almost a whisper. Morgan spun around to see Reid standing at Hotch's side as if he never left.
Hotch waved toward Rossi and Prentiss in the SUVs. "Morgan, go around back."
Training and instinct kicked in and Morgan ran around the side of the house to the backdoor. He drew his weapon as he moved, keeping it pointed safely toward the ground. Rossi joined him on the back-porch seconds later. They waited until they heard the crash of the front entrance before Morgan burst in the back.
Garvez's son stood in the kitchen with a gun to his father's head. Tears streamed down his face as he blamed his father for giving up on his mother.
Morgan prayed they could find a way to talk the unsub down before another life was lost. He waited for Hotch's next order. Instead, the quiet voice of Spencer Reid broke the tension.
"I understand," he said. "My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic. My father abandoned us when I was just a kid."
As Reid tried to empathize with the unsub, Morgan's sense of concern heightened. This was just like the situation months ago when Reid was shot. He'd tried to talk down an unsub with a hostage and a gun. Morgan prayed things would turn out better this time.
"She never had a chance," the unsub said. "He gave up on her. He didn't care. No one cares!" He turned the gun away from his father and pointed it straight at Reid.
Morgan moved before his mind could catch up to his body. He heard the gunshot at the same time he tackled Garvez and his son. He knew he was too late, though. The gun had still been pointed at Reid when it fired.
In the chaos on the floor, Garvez managed to pull himself away from his son and Morgan wrenched the gun out of the son's hand. The young man's strength was no match for Morgan's muscle, and he had him subdued in no time. Only then did he look around to see the damage.
The first thing he saw was Prentiss and Rossi standing with Garvez who was thankfully unhurt. Then he saw Reid, still standing frozen in place, his face white. Hotch stood by his side.
"You okay, kid?" Morgan asked.
Reid slowly met his eyes and nodded. "Missed me."
Morgan kept a restraining hold on the unsub and watched Hotch usher Reid from the room. The team leader never touched the kid but somehow managed to guide him away from the scene.
Local law enforcement arrived. They took the unsub away for processing and Garvez to the station for questioning. The officer in charge thanked Hotch for the BAU's assistance. The team began clearing the scene. Morgan left the house with the others. His SUV was still parked down the road. He promised to meet them at the station and began jogging down the street. As soon as his team's vehicles passed him, he turned and headed back to the house.
Crime scene units were still going over the area, but no one paid any attention to Morgan in his FBI vest. He headed to the kitchen, staring at the spot where the unsub had stood just before Morgan tackled him. He looked at where Reid had been standing. He pictured the bullet leaving the gun. It had been aimed right at Reid, Morgan was sure of it. How had it missed?
Then Morgan's eyes fell on the wall behind where Reid stood. He saw the bullet hole. Judging by the location, it would have had to have gone right through Reid. It was impossible. There was no way to explain how Reid was still alive. That bullet should have hit him square in the chest.
How had it missed?
Perhaps Morgan was remembering the scene wrong. Perhaps Reid had moved or hadn't been standing where Morgan remembered.
Whatever miracle occurred to prevent that bullet hitting Reid today, all Morgan could do was be grateful that it had missed.
After all, Reid was still with them.
- O -
AN: Thank you to all the kind reviewers who are following this story. And thank you to all the unkind reviewers even though I don't see your point.