A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter is so short. I know I've been leaving you guys hanging at the end of each chapter so I thought I'd leave this one on a sweeter note!
In the waiting room, JJ puts a comforting hand on Garcia's shoulder. "It isn't Derek's fault, Garcia. He knows that. It'll just take time."
"I don't know," Garcia counters, using a crumpled up tissue to soak up her tears. Prentiss sits on the other side of her, also attempting to calm her down. Hotch and Rossi had said they were going to find a coffee machine, but JJ suspects they were just giving the girls space to deal with the news in their "girl way," as Rossi had once called it.
"You didn't see him in there. He was so...mad. And then...when Dr. Ramirez told him about...I just can't imagine how he reacted." All three women fall silent, recalling the same news that the doctor had told them just before going to speak with Morgan. JJ and Prentiss had held onto one another in the hallway for what felt like hours. Rossi excused himself to get some fresh air, and even Hotch had to sit down for a while. It had been Prentiss who told Garcia, and she'd been sitting in hysterics ever since.
"Morgan is experiencing the seven stages of grief," Rossi informs the girls, walking back into the room with three cups of coffee. He hands one to Prentiss and Garcia, and Hotch gives the extra one in his hand to JJ.
"Seven? I thought there were only five?" Garcia asks as she takes a big gulp of the sugary goodness. That's what her therapist had told her when both of her parents died, and that is what she's always believed and taught as a grief counselor.
"It depends on which theory you follow," Hotch tells them. "Some say five. Others say seven. One even says fourteen."
"He's right," Rossi agrees. "One model can't possibly explain grief for everyone. We all handle it differently."
"Well where is Morgan at on this model, supposing it's the same for everyone?" Prentiss asks, curious now about the science behind the process.
"Stages two and three. The first is shock, but it's primarily used as emotional protection. Morgan's tough. His brain probably wouldn't feel the need to protect his heart. The second stage is pain and guilt. Garcia said that Morgan feels the accident is his fault, right?" Garcia nods at Rossi, a blank, painful expression still plastered to her face. "The third is anger. Let's be honest. When is Morgan not angry when one of his friends are hurt?"
The team thinks to themselves. Morgan comes off as the "tough guy" of the BAU. No one would argue with that statement, but they also know there's another side to him. He's protective by nature, and he often masks pain with anger. Instead of allowing himself to empathize with a friend, he manifests his feelings into anger and goes after whoever hurt them in the first place. In this case, it is him, or so he believes.
"I thought we agreed not to profile each other."
JJ, Prentiss, Garcia, Rossi, and Hotch all turn their attention to a familiar voice, where they see Agent Morgan standing, still in his hospital gown, bandages, and sling. His skin is paler than usual and, if you look close enough, you'll see that his hands are trembling. Rossi notices this, but can't be sure if it's from shock or fatigue.
"They released you?" Prentiss asks, stepping up and giving Morgan a gentle hug. He returns it with his good arm, and then turns to speak to the rest of his team.
"Not technically. I have to sign some paperwork and stuff first." Morgan hesitates. He almost feels bad for what he is about to do. "Dr. Ramirez is going to let me see Reid." At his words, everyone jumps anxiously to their feet.
"He isn't supposed to have visitors in intensive care." Morgan breaks the news, now looking down at his shoeless feet instead of the people in front of him. "They're making an exception for me."
Everyone is still for a moment, but JJ eventually approaches Morgan. "Hey, it's okay," she reassures him after seeing the guilt in his eyes. "If anyone is going to be there for Spence, it should be you."
"Thank you," Morgan almost whispers, his voice cracking as he pulls JJ into a one-arm hug. She thinks she feels a tear drip into her hair, but doesn't address it. Morgan isn't the type of man to cry, and she imagines he would be embarrassed if he thought anyone noticed. "You guys should go home and rest."
"No," Hotch says before anyone else has an opportunity to, though they were all thinking the same thing. "We operate as a family and that means we stick together, no matter what."
"Hotch, I appreciate that. I really do." Morgan steps towards Hotch, a glint of thankfulness in his puffy eyes. "But the doc said Reid will be out of it for the rest of the night, at least. I'll call each of you personally if anything changes. But right now you can't do anything sitting in this waiting room. Go home to Jack, and the rest of you go sleep." Morgan extends his arm to shake Hotch's hand. Hotch looks down at it and then at the rest of his team. They all stare back at him, hoping that he will stand his ground.
"Morgan's right," Hotch finally says, taking the younger agent's hand in his own. He debates it in his head for a few seconds, and finally decides it would be appropriate to hug Morgan. Morgan is taken aback and doesn't return the gesture at first, given that his boss is always incredibly professional and rarely shows care at all, let alone affection. They all know that he does care for them, he just doesn't show it. He is the leader of the team and must act as one, even if that means seeming cold-hearted at times.
Morgan returns the hug, muttering a "thank you" into Hotch's ear before they pull apart.
"I'll be back here first thing in the morning," Hotch tells Morgan. "You guys go get some rest." He bids everyone farewell, and then disappears around the corner.
Prentiss and Garcia each hug Morgan, followed by a friendly pat on the back from Rossi. Garcia makes Morgan promise her that she'll be the first one he calls, and he pats her on the head before the three of them leave together.
"JJ…" Morgan starts once they're alone. He's cut off when JJ wraps her arms around his back, resting her head on his chest and letting her tears drip freely onto his gown.
"Do you think it's true? That he won't walk again?" Her voice is muffled by the thin material. Morgan puts his hand on the back of JJ's head, patting her hair softly.
"JJ, listen to me. Reid is a lot stronger than what we give him credit for, okay? He'll pull through."
"But what if he doesn't?" It isn't like JJ to doubt her team, but she can't help herself. She has to prepare for the worst.
"There's no time for what-ifs." Morgan takes half a step back, using his thumb to wipe away his colleague's tears. "You aren't going to sleep, are you?" JJ looks up at him, mouth half open as she tries to answer him.
"Don't lie to me. I know you aren't. They aren't either." Morgan gestures towards the door that everyone else had walked out of moments before. "Look, I wouldn't ask, but I know you could use the distraction."
"No, it's no problem," JJ responds quickly, drying her face with the palms of her hands and regaining herself. "Anything you need. Always." Morgan nods gratefully, but hesitates to ask the favor. He's not used to needing help.
"Do you think you could head over to my place and get me a change of clothes? Maybe my toothbrush, phone charger, whatever else you think could be useful. It looks like Pretty Boy's stuck here a while, but he's not going to be stuck here alone."
"Of course." JJ smiles, her heart swelling at Morgan's kind gesture. At work, Morgan picks on Reid a lot and acts like the younger agent gets on his nerves, but they all know that Morgan sees Reid as his little brother and would move mountains for him. "Do you have your keys?"
Morgan stalls. That's something he hasn't thought through. Surely someone had gotten them from the accident. They'd have to know that he can't go without his keys. Seeing the blank expression on his face, JJ instructs him to sit while she goes to find them.
She returns less than two minutes later with a white bag in her hand marked with the words "personal belongings," handing it over to him unopened. He thanks her as he struggles to untie the top of it with one hand. JJ takes it back with a laugh, easily undoing the knot and sitting it back on Morgan's lap. He pulls out a pair of jeans, a ripped shirt, and his cracked cell phone - which thankfully still works - before freezing on the spot.
"What's wrong?" JJ asks worriedly. She glances in the bag to see what affected Morgan, and grows quiet herself when she sees the bloody item inside. "Is that…" She begins.
"It's my blood," Morgan reassures her, pulling a bright purple scarf out and holding it gingerly, as if it is a newborn baby. "I used it to stop the blood in my arm. It was...his favorite one." A look of guilt washes over Morgan, and JJ understands what upset him in the first place. It wasn't the scarf - it was the guilt.
"It's just a scarf, Derek. He can buy a new one."
"He can't buy new legs, can he?" Morgan suddenly snaps, his grip on the fabric tightening. Three different emotions seem to take hold within the course of a few seconds. First anger, and then resentment towards himself as Morgan strikes his fist down on his own leg. JJ instinctively reaches out and grabs Morgan's arm, feeling his flexed muscles relax as his whole body starts to tremble with overwhelming sadness. He bites his lip to keep from crying as he pulls the scarf into his chest, closing his eyes and taking in the familiar, fresh, spring-like smell of his friend. Reid never wore much cologne, so he mostly just smelled like his laundry detergent. There was something comforting about it.
"Morgan, it's okay to be upset." JJ attempts to validate Morgan's feelings so that he will release them, but she knows it is a far-cry.
"I'm fine," Morgan assures her, though she can hear the weakness in his voice. He digs around in the bag and pulls out a set of keys, pointing out which one unlocks the door to his house. "Thanks, JJ."
The two part ways, and Morgan's heart beats a little harder in his chest as he follows the arrows on the wall to the trauma center, specifically the intensive care wing.
Everything is so silent and dark when he first enters the room, Morgan wonders if the doctor has sent him to the right place. He retrieves his phone from the bag and uses it as a flashlight to navigate around a curtain that separates the rest of the room from the door.
Morgan has to use the back of a nearby chair for balance as the dim light floods the bed in the center of the room. It is nearly impossible to make out who lies underneath the heap of blankets, tubes, and cords, each connecting to a different part of Reid's body and running into different machines surrounding him. Some tubes run under the blankets to unknown locations, while others are stuck to his chest, arms, and even his head. Unlike Morgan, he wears an oxygen mask instead of just little tubes in his nose. He appears lifeless.
Morgan takes a deep breath and inches closer to the bed. Some of the machines and poles are unfamiliar to him, but he recognizes two different bags of fluids hanging on an I.V. pole, a heart monitor with far many more numbers and charts than the one he'd had, and a catheter.
Ouch, he thinks to himself.
Pulling up a chair, Morgan gets as close to the bed as he can and observes the damage as best he can in the dark. There are stitches on Reid's forehead and a nasty bruise on his right cheek, but he knows the worst of it is covered by the sheets draped over his body. He tries to say something, but he knows that Reid won't hear him and he wouldn't know what to say anyway. Instead, Morgan reaches his hand out to take Reid's, decides against it, and then changes his mind again.
He picks Reid's smaller hand up in his own, treating it like that of a porcelain doll that will break in the smallest gust of wind. His skin is soft, but freezing cold to the touch. Hissing in pain, Morgan wriggles his left arm out of the sling and places his other hand on top of Reid's, sandwiching it between the two in an attempt to warm it. He wants to tell Reid how sorry he is - how he wishes more than anything that he could take his place - but can't bring himself to do it for fear of choking on his words.
Morgan turns slightly to the side in his chair and leans his head over, using the side of Reid's bed as a pillow. The position is uncomfortable and he knows it will make his neck even more sore than what it already is, but he's too exhausted - physically and emotionally - to care. It only takes forty seconds for Morgan to drift off to sleep, one of his hands still holding onto that of his best friend's.