Morgan rolls over on the uncomfortable leather couch, feeling around in the dark for his phone on the table. He squints as the screen illuminates his face. 2:14 AM. He'd manage to sleep for three hours, which is many more than what he'd gotten over the course of two days. He sits up and rubs at his temple, wishing more than anything that he were at home in his warm bed, with Reid doing the same at his own apartment. Sighing to himself, Morgan stands up, stretches, and feels his way over to the bathroom inside of Reid's room.
Flicking the light on, Morgan hovers in front of the mirror and observes his reflection. The skin under his eyes are sagging, and the bandage on his forehead is beginning to peel off, pieces of it dangling in front of his face. He grabs ahold of one end and gently unravels the white fabric, tossing it in the trash and turning back to assess the damage. A nasty bruise canvases a relatively small area above his left eye, the skin already beginning to turn yellow as a sign of healing. He turns on the cold water, cupping his hands under the faucet and splashing the refreshing liquid on his face. He uses a towel to pat himself dry, and then heads back out into the room, leaving the bathroom light on as a guide.
Out of the corner of his eye, Morgan catches the slightest shimmer of something in the soft yellow glow - Spencer's eyes, open but tired and disoriented. Morgan approaches the bed cautiously, trying to avoid a repeat of several hours ago. "Reid?" He asks gently, gaining the young man's attention. When he doesn't answer, Morgan steps closer and sits on the edge of the bed in silence.
"M-Morgan…" Reid says, much to Morgan's surprise. He turns his head to face him, smiling down softly at Reid.
"How you doing, kid?" Morgan ruffles Reid's hair. Reid doesn't flinch in the slightest. A good sign, Morgan reassures himself. Instead of answering the question, Reid retorts with one of his own.
"What about you? Your head doesn't look so good." Reid's big, light brown eyes lock in on Morgan's unbandaged forehead, worry evident in them. Morgan smirks, looking away and at the empty wall behind the bed.
"Ah, Dr. Reid. Always too worried about the rest of the world to consider his own pretty self." Morgan giggles, and laughs even harder when Reid lets out a small giggle himself. He suppresses it quickly, a pained expression crossing his face. "Your head?" Morgan asks, his own laughter turning to worry.
"Y-yeah," Reid responds quietly, his gaze falling down to the blankets draped over his body. "And my chest, my back, my arms, and…" Reid trails off. Morgan tries to ignore the fact that he didn't say anything about his legs hurting. "What happened?"
"You don't remember?"
"I should," Reid replies after a moment of thought, "I remember everything." Morgan can't help but smile, despite the pathetic tone to Reid's voice.
"We were in an accident, Reid. Try to think. What's the last thing you can remember?"
"I - I don't know, Morgan." Reid shifts in the bed slightly, frustrated that pieces of his memory are gone. "Walk me through it."
"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Morgan starts, afraid that Reid may have another panic attack if he attempts to do a cognitive interview.
"Please?" Reid asks, his voice cracking in his state of vulnerability. "I need to know, Morgan."
Morgan looks down at Reid, his heart sinking at the lost, glazed over expression in his eyes. He can't help but give into the request, feeling it would be cruel not to. "Okay," he agrees reluctantly, reaching down and taking Reid's hand, which has become a habit at this point. Reid stares down at their intertwined hands awkwardly, not too fond of human contact. "Sorry," Morgan says, pulling away.
"The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually sa-"
"Yeah, yeah," Morgan interrupts, ecstatic that Reid is starting to act more like himself. "It's actually safer to do this." Before Reid has time to react, Morgan leans over and pecks him on the cheek, laughing in triumph at the disgusted look on the other man's face.
"Gross!" Reid turns his head in the other direction, knowing that he can't get too far away from Morgan in the twin-sized hospital bed. Morgan gives Reid a friendly pat on the shoulder, happy that he accomplished his goal in loosening Reid's nerves a bit before starting the interview.
"Alight, kid. I'm playing. Why don't you relax and close your eyes for me?" The mood in the room shifts as Reid turns his head back around to look at Morgan. He looks scared, unsure of what to expect since he's never forgotten anything a day in his life, and thus has never been on the other side of this process. "It's okay," Morgan says, sensing Reid's hesitation. "I'm gonna be right here the whole time."
Reid lets his eyelids close, licking his lips as he often does when he's either nervous or thinking. "Go back to the jet, on our way home from Washington." Morgan picks out a memory shortly before the accident occurred, hoping to ease him into things. "What do you smell?"
"I smell...whiskey," Reid answers, his eyes moving around underneath of his lids. "Rossi is having a glass. We're playing chess."
"What am I doing?" Morgan asks, remembering how he'd been sitting next to them with his headphones on, trying to tune out a conversation between his two co-workers that he didn't understand.
"You're…" Reid pauses, and then laughs. "You're singing Nas. Rossi is telling you to stop it. Emily is sitting across the aisle, recording you on her phone."
"What?" Morgan asks incredulously, momentarily forgetting the objective of the interview. He makes a note to get ahold of Prentiss' phone and delete said video next time he sees her. "Never mind. What happens when we get off the plane?"
"We all walk into the BAU together. Hotch is on the phone with his babysitter. Jack is in the background telling us all goodnight." Reid's lips curl up. He's always been fond of children, perhaps because they find him intriguing rather than 'weird,' as the adults tend to call him. "The girls are talking about shopping, and I'm telling you about my favorite novel. I can tell that you don't care." Guilt washes over Morgan's features. He shakes it off, and promises himself that he will hang on to Reid's every last word from now on, for they could be his last.
"Now you and I are in the elevator. You're...you're trying to take me home, but I tell you no. You won't leave me alone and I don't really feel like arguing, so I give in." Morgan closes his eyes, wishing he'd have just let Reid go home on the subway. They'd be in Boston with the rest of their team right now if he had.
"Does anything stand out to you in the parking lot? Any unusual cars, or someone who doesn't belong?" Reid starts to shake his head no, but then stops himself. "Reid?" Morgan asks again, adrenaline coursing through his body now.
"I think I see a shadow over in the trees, but I'm so sleepy I ignore it. I thought it was just the wind but…"
"The wind wasn't blowing." Morgan finishes for him, earning a nod from Reid. "Did you see what it looked like?"
"It was...a person, I think. I can't see their face or anything. Just the shadow."
"That's okay, Reid," Morgan whispers, grabbing his hand again without even thinking about it. This time, Reid doesn't pull away. "What happened after that?"
"We were...we were driving. I kept dozing off, but you were singing again." Morgan shakes his head. He's going to have to stop singing so much. "I-I opened my eyes and…" Reid's chest starts to rise and fall more quickly, and sweat beads break out onto his forehead.
"Reid, what is it?" Morgan asks in a soothing voice, not wanting to press him too much. "It's okay. You're safe." He places his free hand on Reid's chest, reminding him that he can't get hurt again. "What do you see?"
"It's...it's...D-D-Death. Black...cold...everything is so cold. So quiet. Morgan!" Reid suddenly shouts, flailing around in the bed and accidentally smacking himself right on the cut across his forehead. Morgan grabs both hands and pins them down to his sides, rising up on his knees and hovering over Reid's shaking body. "It hurts. It hurts so bad. My...my legs…" Violent tears stream down his cheeks. All of the energy drains from his body, and Reid relaxes underneath of Morgan.
"Okay, Pretty Boy. You did great. I'm here now. I'm right here." Morgan twists around and drops onto his back, wrapping his arms around Reid and pulling him into him much like he did before, ignoring the fingernails that dig into his arm helplessly. "Shh. I've got you." Reid turns his upper body towards Morgan's, burying his face into his chest and letting his tears pour out freely.
"Morgan, my l-legs…"
"I know, Reid. I know." Morgan presses his lips on the top of Reid's head, holding them there for a while as he gently rocks back and forth. For the first time in his life, the charming, charismatic Agent Morgan is at a loss for words, but not short on tears by a long shot.
They lay like that for a good ten minutes, Reid's sobs becoming quieter and quieter until they stop all together. Morgan slowly pushes himself away, holding his friend at arm's length and brushing his curly hair through his fingers. Reid keeps a firm hold onto Morgan's arm, afraid of being left alone. "Hey, can I show you something?" Morgan asks in an effort to lighten the mood. Reid stares at him with puffy eyes, his gaze proving skeptical. "It's just under the bed. I'm going to get it, okay?"
Morgan sits up and leans over, his hand fumbling blindly underneath of him and finally brushing against a paper bag. He pulls it up and returns to his position of lying on his back next to Reid, who stares at the bag curiously. "I uh...I got this for you." He holds out the bag, prompting Reid to take it from him. The younger agent does, looking it over for a few seconds before sticking a hand inside and pulling something incredibly soft and purple out of it.
He looks between the scarf and Morgan confusedly, unfolding it and holding it up to examine. "A sixty-eight dollar scarf?" He asks, shocked and confused as he squints to make out the numbers on the tag. "Why?"
Morgan pats his own bandaged arm, looking between it and Reid with a sad smile. "I kind of ruined your other one. I know it was your favorite, and my blood didn't match it well."
"Wow," Reid breathes, flattered that anyone would buy him a gift at all, especially Derek Morgan, who takes pride in being a 'manly-man.' "That's really kind of you, Morgan, but you didn't have to. My old one was only ten dollars. This is too much." He tries to hand it back, but Morgan swats him away.
"C'mon. I owe you. You bought me a seven dollar burger and I almost killed you in return." Morgan surprises himself with the joke, and regrets saying it as soon as it comes out of his mouth. Reid seems to think otherwise though, for a genuine, white smile lights up his face for the first time since all of this began.
"That was one expensive burger," he laughs, clutching his cracked rib and willing himself to settle down as a new pain introduces itself into his body. "Thank you, Morgan." Morgan nods as a gesture of 'you're welcome,' watching in amusement as Reid wraps the scarf around his neck and looks down at it in satisfaction. "What do you think?"
"I think," Morgan says, leaning in close and pretending to study the garment carefully, "That it compliments your stitches very nicely." In that moment, both men come to the realization that, sometimes, all you can do is laugh about things to keep them from destroying you inside. Morgan tugs at the scarf, removing it from Reid's neck and tossing it over on the couch along with the bag it came in. "We should get some sleep." He looks back over at Reid for confirmation, only to discover that he's already snoring softly. Morgan gives him one last pat to the chest, readjusts the blankets for him, and retreats to his spot on the couch.
"What is it, Baby Girl?" Morgan asks with a yawn. He'd woken up at around seven in the morning and had been watching Reid sleep until his phone started buzzing with a call from Garcia.
"How's my Junior G-Man?" are the first words out of her mouth. Morgan smiles as he looks over at Reid in the bed, sleeping soundly.
"Better," Morgan says. "He woke up last night and seemed well-aware. I know I was supposed to call you," he adds quickly, hoping to avoid an ass-chewing from the sassy analyst. "It was like three in the morning. He didn't stay up long."
"Oh." There is a brief silence on the other end. Morgan can only imagine that Garcia has a million questions fluttering around her brain and can't decide which one to ask first. "Does he remember anything about the accident?"
Morgan sighs. "Pretty much the same things I've already told you, but he said something about a shadow in the parking lot. He didn't think anything of it that night because he was tired. And then something about death…" His words trail off as Morgan bites his lower lip.
"Weird," Garcia comments.
"What's weird?" Morgan asks. He hadn't thought much of Reid's unusual description about death, especially considering that he was still in a slight state of shock and panic at the time.
"The first time he woke up, he was yelling about the Grim Reaper, and now death? I don't know, Morgan. Something is definitely up with him."
"He's just in shock," Morgan says, though he has to admit something seems off about the whole thing. "You know, he did tell me once that -" Morgan stops himself. Though it had never been spoken between the two, he knows that anything Reid has told him about Tobias Hankel is meant to stay between them. Reid had trusted Morgan enough to tell him all of the details, and he isn't about to betray that trust now.
"What did he tell you?" The voice comes from the door instead of through the phone. Morgan pulls the device away from his ear to see that the call has ended, and then looks up to see Garcia standing in front of him, a look of impatience on her face.
"Garcia! Shouldn't you be at the office, helping the team in Boston?" Morgan stands up and approaches her, attempting to change the subject but knowing it is no use.
"Nice to see you too, hot stuff," she mutters, crossing the room and speaking to Reid instead. "Hey, cutie-pie. Why don't you wake up and tell Mamma whatever it is that Derek is keeping from me?" Morgan shakes his head, sitting back down on the couch and watching in silence.
"He's just being Derek," a close-eyed Reid whispers from his bed.
"What?" Morgan asks, getting up and taking his usual seat on the edge of the bed. "How long have you been awake?"
"Three hours, twenty-four minutes, and seventeen seconds." Any other time, Morgan might have considered slapping him, but now, all he can do is smile.
"You know what they say. You can take the boy out of the genius, but you can't take the genius out of the boy. Why didn't you say anything?"
"No one says that and even if they did, it doesn't make any sense," Reid retorts matter-of-factly, finally opening his eyes and turning to Morgan. "You look terrible."
"Thanks. You don't look so great yourself." Morgan pats Reid on the cheek playfully, much gentler than what he'd normally do considering the bruises and lacerations covering most of his face.
"Boys, settle down," Garcia warns, reminding both agents that they are in a hospital and probably shouldn't be acting so childish. It feels nice though - normal, even. "How are you feeling, sweetie?" Reid turns his attention to her, his eyes shifting between them both uncomfortably. "Reid?"
"I'm okay. It's just...my whole body is hurting and I...I can't seem to remember everything." Garcia looks down at him sadly. She can't imagine what it must feel like for someone with an eidetic memory to forget something.
"What do you mean, I'm 'just being Derek?'" Morgan asks, gaining a kick to the chin from Garcia.
"Ow!" He groans, reaching down and rubbing his leg.
"Can't you be a little more sensitive? Ugh, men!"
Reid and Morgan share a perplexed look, obviously clueless to Garcia's womanly instincts. "I just meant you were being a good person. You didn't tell her because I trusted you with it." Morgan falls silent, not knowing how to respond. Garcia, on the other hand, swoons over their brotherly-relationship.
"You guys are adorable," she says, gaining a blush from both men. "You don't have to tell me, Reid. I understand."
Reid turns his head away from both of his friends, contemplating over whether or not he should tell Garcia what he saw at the hands of his captor a couple of years ago. They'd all seen some of it unfold on live footage, but he'd only ever told Morgan about how it had made him feel, and the things that Tobias had done to him when the camera wasn't rolling.
"You remember when Tobias...well...when he killed me?" Garcia nods slowly, wishing she could forget the image of her precious genius seizing and taking his last breath on the cold, cement floor. "Before he revived me, I saw this white light. In that light was the promise of no more pain. It was so warm...so inviting. I didn't tell anyone because I thought you guys would think I'm crazy. I only told Morgan because I started to feel crazy keeping it to myself for so long. But it's true. It's what I saw and I know I didn't make it up because -"
"Oh, honey," Garcia starts, standing up and pulling Reid into a gentle hug. He returns it gratefully, revelling in the human contact that he usually tries to avoid at all costs. "No one thinks you're crazy. I mean, sometimes you drive us all crazy with your statistics and random useless facts and -" Morgan clears his throat, indicating for Garcia to get to the point. "Right," she says, pulling away and sitting back down. "What does that have to do with any of this?"
"I don't know," Reid says honestly. "I just keep seeing this image right before we crash. It's this black cloak standing in the middle of the road with a hood, and it's holding a scythe. Maybe it's just my imagination playing tricks on me, like it did with Tobias."
Suddenly, Garcia jumps up from her chair and starts pacing the room restlessly. Reid and Morgan follow her with their eyes, neither of them saying anything because they're so used to this type of behavior with Garcia. "The symbol!" she proclaims, as if this is supposed to mean something to either of them.
"What?" Morgan asks, his eyebrows raised.
"The symbol on the tree, you big dummy! Like JJ said, it wasn't an arrow! It was curved! Just like a -"
"Like a scythe," Morgan finishes, the pieces falling into place but still not making any sense.
"Morgan?" Reid asks, his eyes showing confusion and a hint of fear.
"You haven't told him, have you?" Garcia whips around and looks at Morgan incredulously, who backs up a few inches on the bed.
"He's only been awake three times since we've been here. Once he had a panic attack and -"
"He had a panic attack?! Don't you think that's something we should have known?"
"I -"
"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Reid asks, being largely ignored by the two bickering people in front of him. He shuts his eyes and tries to ignore them, but has a difficult time doing so when each of them attempts to talk over the other.
"Guys!" He finally yells, clutching at his ribcage as a severe pain rips through him. Garcia rushes to his aid while Morgan stands idly against the wall, guilt mixing in with the angry look on his face. Before either of them have time to apologize, a nurse enters the room.
"What's going on in here?" She asks, crossing her arms and tapping her foot on the tiled floor. "Dr. Reid is still in intensive care. Extra stress is not good for him. I'm going to have to ask one of you to leave."
"It was just a misunderstanding," Morgan starts, but is interrupted by the nurse.
"I'm sure it was, Agent Morgan, but we can't risk him having another panic attack. Now, I'm going to tell his doctor that he's awake, and when he comes in, one of you better be gone." The nurse glares between the two of them one last time before exiting the room. Morgan and Garcia glance between one another and then at Reid, obviously expecting him to make the final decision.
"How about you both just leave?" He snarls to their surprise. "I'm a grown man. I can handle being in a hospital alone."
"Not a chance, Pretty Boy." Morgan steps back up next to the bed, leaning in close to Reid's face and replacing his angry voice with a soothing one. "I put you in here and I'm not about to let you go through it alone." At his words, Garcia's demeanor shifts. She grabs Morgan's arm and looks up at him softly - an unspoken apology between the two of them.
"You should stay," she says, gaining a nod from Morgan. He steps back and gives Garcia room to lean down and kiss Reid, rolling his eyes when he doesn't pull away from her like he had with him. "You boys take care of each other, okay? I'll be back to check in. Call me," she whispers to Morgan as she brushes past him, looking back at the bed one last time before leaving quietly.
Morgan approaches the bed again, this time sitting down in the chair. Reid turns his head in the other direction, clearly upset by the argument that had unfolded right in front of him. "Reid, I'm sorry. I was going to tell you. I just...didn't know when."
"How about now?" Reid asks angrily, keeping his head turned away. Morgan sighs hesitantly, but sees no way out of it.
"Before you woke up yesterday, Garcia and I went to the site of our accident. There was a carving in the tree." He waits for a reaction from Reid, but doesn't get one. "Do you want to see?" Morgan pulls his phone out of his pocket, navigates to the photo, and sits it down on Reid's stomach. It is a moment before Reid picks it up and looks.
"You think someone did this?" He asks after studying it for a while, handing the phone back to Morgan and looking at him for the first time since Garcia left. Morgan nods, unsure of whether or not Reid is still angry at him.
"Reid, whatever you think you saw out there...it could be connected to this."
"You're saying someone tried to kill us?"
"Maybe," Morgan replies. "Garcia's been looking into it, but the rest of the team is in Boston and they need her priority to be with them right now."
"I understand," is all Reid says. Morgan can tell that there is something else on his mind, but he doesn't press it after dropping so much information on him at once. This is really the first time that he's been fully alert since the accident, and Morgan hasn't done anything to make matters any better.
"Look, Reid. I'm really sorry, okay? I just didn't want you to worry with everything else going on. I've already done enough harm -"
"Morgan, stop."
"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be here right now. I should've just let you go home alone, like you wanted. Maybe then -"
"Morgan." This time, it is Reid who reaches out and takes Morgan's hand. Morgan stares down at it, shocked and speechless.
"Please stop blaming yourself for this. I think you're hurting worse than I am, but you shouldn't." A single teardrop plays at the corner of Reid's eye. Morgan reaches out to catch it, but Reid turns away so he can finish speaking. "Just listen to me. I know I'm not like you or Hotch or Rossi or anyone else. I know you guys think I don't feel things and that I don't know how to deal with emotions and that I just sit around reading textbooks all day."
"Hey, that last one is true," Morgan pitches in, his voice shaking dangerously. Reid laughs, pulling Morgan's hand closer to him and looking down at it as he speaks.
"It doesn't take a profiler to see that the guilt is eating you alive. Morgan, if you're right, if someone did this on purpose, you couldn't have stopped it. If he was targeting us, we were safer together. You think you almost killed me, but you saved me. What are the chances they would've found us if you hadn't ran up that hill? I would have bled out. And if I did take the subway, that guy would've just gotten me while I was alone, tired, and unarmed. Stop blaming yourself, please."
For the first time, Morgan lets his tears fall openly and freely. He isn't the type to cry, let alone to cry in front of another man. He tries to brush it off, but he's sure it's too late.
"I uh...allergies," he mutters, taking his hand out of Reid's and rubbing his eyes.
"Right," Reid says. "You have allergies, and I passed my annual FBI psychical."
"You know, you're lucky you're in that bed, kiddo." Morgan jokes, punching Reid lightly on the arm.
"Oh, is that right?"
A knock on the door silences their playful banter, and they both look up to see Dr. Ramirez standing with his usual clipboard in hand. Morgan stands to shake his hand, eager to find out if Reid will be able to go home soon. "I see you're awake," the doctor says with a smile. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm good," Reid replies. "I have a headache and my ribs hurt a bit, but other than that, I'm good."
"That's great." Dr. Ramirez looks between Reid, his clipboard, and Morgan, who stands at the end of the bed watching the exchange, wondering why the doctor's grave facial expression doesn't coincide with his cheerful tone of voice. "Agent Morgan, would you mind stepping outside?"
"No," Reid says quickly, "It's okay. He's family. He can stay."
"Well, alright then. Some people take the news better than others. Some want time alone to process it, others prefer the emotional support of family and friends. You gentlemen seem very close."
Time slows down as the realization of what is about to happen hits Morgan like a ton of bricks. He watches in slow motion as Reid's mouth opens, closes again, and the doctor places a hand on his shoulder before continuing.
"Wait!" Morgan blurts out, causing both men to look at him strangely. "It should be me. Let me tell him."
"Sir, I don't think that's a good id-"
"I have to do this," Morgan says again, his nostrils flaring under the gaze of the doctor. "Please."
"Okay," the doctor eventually agrees.
"Alone," Morgan adds when the doctor makes no effort to move.
"Yes, of course," he replies with a small nod. Morgan follows him all the way to the door, making sure it closes all the way before turning back towards the room, taking a deep breath and searching for the words that he never thought he'd have to say. Reid was right. Morgan is hurting the worst. He's just too stubborn to admit it.