Day Off

by xAddictedToWordsx

Spencer's finally taken a day off, and he's taking Profile-in-Training Henry to the park. Even Spencer can't find trouble at the park...right? Mentions of violence in later parts - rated T as I was unsure of how to rate it or where it's going to go :) . (MorganxReid)

6. Chapter 6 - Epilogue

Spencer Reid/Derek Morgan

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. Any characters or related settings are not mine and belong to CBS and Jeff Davis unless otherwise stated.

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Two weeks later

"Derek, I'm certain I can make it into the living room without you watching over my shoulder. I'm not going to fall over."

"That's what you said at the hospital, and you nearly gave yourself a concussion falling over a chair in the waiting room. No chance, Pretty Boy; you're not leaving my sight until you get the all clear on your physical."

Spencer rolled his eyes as Derek steered him into the living room, one arm around his waist, and deposited him on the couch. After the first week of bed rest, he'd been able to get up and move around, but never for long periods of time, and truth be told, the journey from the hospital had tired him out. Secretly, he liked the care and attention that Derek had been showering on him, but he knew that if he let on, then he'd be smothered. Between Derek, JJ, and Garcia, he hadn't had a moment to himself since the shooting, and he relaxed back into the soft cushions of the couch as Derek headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on, closing his eyes slowly as he relished the feel of being home again.

He remembered back to when he was shot. He remembered fearing that he would never go home again, that he would never again curl up on the couch with Derek and Clooney, that he would never wake Derek up in the morning with a kiss and a mug of coffee, that he would never trace shapes again on the broad expanse of Derek's chest. He had feared that he would never again see the team laughing around the briefing table before Hotch arrived, or curled up in various chair around the living room on a movie night. But most of all, he remembered being so upset that he had fallen away from the group, that he couldn't see Derek's face one more time before he died, that his last image of him was with fear and devastation written across his face.

He remembered the disorientation as he woke, the panic as the doctors came in, and then the stroking relief when he saw Derek, whole and safe, before him. He remembered the peace as he fell asleep, no longer afraid, no longer confused, and when he had awoken again, it had been to a flurry of visitors, one by one, each of the team coming to wish him well and see that he was okay. He remembered Garcia bringing with her a basket of stuffed animals that she had managed to find in the hospital shop, along with a singing 'Get Well' card signed by all the team. He remembered her tucking at least three of the animals into the bed with him before she left, and he also remembered all three animals being hurled across the room by Derek when they got in the way of hugging Spencer that evening.

He could hear Derek moving around in the kitchen, and the familiar sounds of home let him relax, away from the memories, keeping him rooted firmly in the present. With a smile on his face, he felt consciousness slip away, and welcomed sleep.

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Derek looked through from the kitchen to the lounge, and smiled as he watched his Pretty Boy's head fall to the side in sleep. He could tell that the journey from the hospital had taken it out of him, even though he had tried to hide it, and was glad that Spencer was giving in to what he clearly needed.

Setting down the coffee mug he had been drying, and draping the kitchen towel over his shoulder, he quietly made his way over to the couch, eyes remaining on Spencer's peacefully sleeping figure as he went. Kneeling down in front of him, he let his fingertips ghost over Spencer's face and linger in his hair as he studied the dark shadows under the young profiler's eyes that hadn't been there a fortnight ago. Not for the first time, he was glad that the gunmen were dead; if they weren't, he would have been hard-pressed not to go after them himself for the pain and terror they had caused his Pretty Boy.

Carefully, so not to wake him, he lowered Spencer to the side so that he lay across the cushions of the couch, rather than sitting up, and slipped a cushion beneath the younger man's head. Stroking the hair back from his face, he reached over and grabbed the throw off the arm of Spencer's armchair, standing up to carefully shake it out before draping it over Spencer's sleeping form, tucking it gently around his shoulders to keep him warm. His boyfriend let out a small murmur as he did so, one hand slipping out of the blanket to grope blindly for Derek's, settling immediately when the profiler's dark hand slipped into Spencer's pale one.

Derek smiled as he sat down on the ground beside the couch. His legs would probably go to sleep, and the coffee waiting on the kitchen counter would have to wait until later, but at this moment in time, there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

Not on vacation, not in Chicago, not at the office.

Just here.

Just here, with his Pretty Boy.

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That's it, guys! Finished! I am soooo sorry it took so long to update! I really have no excuse other than life just gets in the way! Thank you so much for the follows, the favourites, and the reviews! They mean so much!

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