Note: This chapter is a day or two late. Sorry about that. But at least it's longer than the last two.
I'm glad no one thought anyone was OOC last chapter-I tend to second guess myself far too often and if their voices don't sound just right, well... you likely get the idea...
But enough about that.
As always, a huge thank you to everyone who's reviewed last chapter: San child of the Wolves, Ahowell1993, Dextolan and Tannerose5
Derek Morgan has been angry before. Everytime he has to face the victims, see what new atrocities mankind is capable of committing, he is angry.
But this feels different. It's personal.
Someone dared to try taking members of his team-his family- away from him and he is furious.
Emily Prentiss, in the passenger seat next to him, doesn't speak a word.
Not that he expects her to.
The woman is new to their team and, while so far she's proved her mettle a hundred times over, he doesn't know her well and now is not the time to change that.
And, right now, she doesn't have all that much of his attention.
It's only when he turns a corner far sharper than she should have that she speaks up, gripping the door handle. "Watch it!"
Morgan shakes his head, sparing her a glance. "Don't tell me how to drive," he says.
"You're not going to be much help to either of them if you get us killed on the way there!" Prentiss snaps.
Morgan's shoulders tighten, but he doesn't respond.
Prentiss sighs and leans back in her seat. "I'm sorry, but…" She seems to ponder how best to proceed. "They're alive," she finally says simply.
Morgan swallows, and the feeling is painful in his throat, as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel.
Yes, they're alive. That knowledge allows the fear he's felt for the past five hours abate somewhat.
He knows it won't go away completely until he sees them.
But he allows himself to slow anyways.
"Reid needs to stop getting himself into messes like these," he mutters.
He doesn't look at Prentiss, but he can sense her eyebrows going up.
"Last time I checked," she remarks dryly, "Reid wasn't the only one in this mess."
Morgan sends her a sideways glance, but quickly returns his eyes to the road in front of him. He trusts Hotch, trusts him with his life. He knows Hotch would fight to his last breath for any one of them.
There isn't a better person for Reid to have gone through this with.
Even still, his fear won't go away until he's seen them both with his own eyes.
The first thing that registers when they arrive at the address Garcia pulled for them is how achingly normal it is.
It's not that unusual, he reflects.
How many times has he seen some picture perfect exterior that hides a house of death on the inside?
Too many.
He wastes no time in exiting the vehicle, drawing his gun as he does so. If Reid was able to get in touch with Garcia than there's a high likelihood that their unsub is already subdued.
He's taking no chances.
He can hear sirens in the distance, drawing nearer quickly, and feels momentary satisfaction that they managed to be them all hear.
Prentiss is behind him. He might not know her, but he trusts her to have his back if the situation should call for it.
The house is small. It shouldn't take long to clear it, he thinks.
"Morgan!"
Reid's voice calls out to him, stopping him dead in his tracks.
Behind him Morgan hears Prentiss' sharp intake of breath and he feels a sudden weight in his chest leave as the younger man appears around the corner.
He looks haggard and worn, dried blood trailing down one side of his face, but otherwise unhurt.
Morgan is relieved-until he sees that Hotch isn't behind him, and he remembers that Garcia had said it was Reid who'd called, using Hotch's phone.
Reid seems to understand his thoughts and he glances back the way he'd come. "He's back there," he says. "I said," he swallows before going on, "that it might be best if he rested."
Morgan finds himself surprised that Hotch actually listened, but he doesn't give himself time to ponder it. Instead, he crosses the distance between them, placing his hands gently on the younger man's shoulders and looking him in the eyes.
Prentiss lingers behind him, as if unsure what to do, before she moves past them, disappearing around the corner as she goes to find Hotch.
"And you?" he asks searchingly. "How are you?"
His eyes roam to the blood on the side of Reid's head. The wound, however, is hidden by his hairline.
Reid immediately brings a hand up to the blood. "I'm fine," he says, more than a little defensively.
"You scared us, kid."
Note:I think I should probably just say that Emily Prentiss is my least favorite character to write. She's always the hardest to grasp for me.
Also, I should probably just write it down for the record because I completely forgot about Gideon's existence for this story, so... he can be wherever you wish to imagine him, I suppose.