Prompt: Mr. Bubbles
AN: Not sure if the prompt was meant as a joke or a serious suggestion, but I ran with it anyway. Thanks to Rayne McKenna for providing it! Hope you all enjoy the chapter!
~Three days, ~ Morgan thought wearily, as he pulled the sheets off the bed. Though not past the withdrawal stage yet, the symptoms weren't as intense anymore. Morgan was starting to think that he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. That this whole ordeal might actually come to a conclusion. Not that he didn't want to be here for Reid. The kid was his friend, and he would do anything for him. ~No, he's a brother, ~ Morgan corrected himself, ~and even when we get through this first stage, he's going to have a long road ahead of him. A long road that I plan on being there for every step of the way. I'm just tired and sick of these walls, ~ Morgan thought, tossing the dirty sheets into a corner for the time being and picking up the clean fitted sheet.
Walking past the bathroom, Morgan knocked on the door, quickly receiving an "I'm fine," from Reid. The younger man was feeling better today relatively speaking, despite the fact that he didn't look any better to Morgan. Well enough to want to take a warm bath and though he had insisted he could do so alone, Morgan had made him promise not to lock the door. Morgan had also coaxed his friend into drinking some ensure and eating some soup, though he didn't really have an appetite. Morgan was just relieved that he had been able to keep it down so far.
Eric had left to spend some time with his family, the doctor having not left the apartment since his shopping trip the first day here. With someone on the team dropping by each day, always bringing food and whatever else they needed. There had been no other need for them to leave the apartment. Though Morgan had urged his friend to leave to spend time with his wife and kid, the doctor had steadfastly refused, which had only increased Morgan's worry. If Eric wouldn't leave, that meant he was worried, and that didn't sit well with Morgan especially not after the night following Reid's conversation with Hotch.
Morgan had thought the first night had been bad, but the second night had been worse. Hotch had woken him up before he had left for home, having spoken with Reid once more. Morgan had then headed for the bedroom. Despite his weariness, Eric had refused to go try getting some sleep himself, still worried about Reid's elevated heart rate and blood pressure. Even under sedation they had remained elevated. The fever later in the night had only increased concerns. The sun had been rising when Eric had finally felt comfortable enough to leave his patient's side and get some sleep on the couch.
Last night had been better, all three of them able to get some much needed sleep, albeit most of his own had come sitting in a chair with his feet propped up on the bed. Still, compared to the first couple of nights, it had gone better, disturbed only by a few nightmares that Morgan was able to coax Reid into talking about. As hard as it was for him to talk about them now, Morgan knew it would help Reid in the long run to do just that.
Morgan had noted how relieved Eric had seemed this morning when Reid's vitals had been close to normal. Reid was complaining of only aching and a general feeling of malaise, but the cramps and other withdrawal symptoms had apparently gone away, for the time being at least. Morgan had insisted that Eric leave for a while, knowing his friend was missing his family as much as they would be missing him.
As Morgan finished making the bed, he heard the bathroom door open behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Reid coming out, looking very tired. Walking over to him, Morgan wordlessly slipped an arm around his waist, helping to support him. The fact that Reid didn't protest the action, told Morgan the younger man was feeling just as tired as he looked.
"Did the warm bath help any?" Morgan asked as he eased Reid down to the bed.
"A little," Reid replied, as he laid down on the bed. He immediately rolled over to his side and curled up.
"Can I get you anything?" Morgan asked, sitting on the side of the bed, and resting a hand on Reid's shoulder.
Reid shook his head in reply. Morgan sat there silently for a couple of minutes and then started to get to his feet.
"Don't leave," Reid said, his voice a soft desperate plea.
Morgan immediately settled back down on the edge of the bed, and rested his hand on the younger man's shoulder again.
"Okay. I'm right here," Morgan told him. He tried to catch Reid's gaze but the younger man was hiding his face with hands. Unsure of what to say, Morgan sat there quietly, wondering what he could do. This wasn't an outward threat that he could shield his friend from and right about now he would give anything to make everything okay for Reid.
~Should I try to make him talk? ~ Morgan asked himself. ~Talk about what, though? What went on down in Georgia or what's been going on since then? What is tormenting him more? Is he even ready to face either? ~
Faced with questions and no answers, Morgan did something that he hardly ever did - nothing.
"I know this isn't fair to you, but I need you here, Morgan," Reid finally said, breaking the silence.
"Then I'm going to be right here, Reid."
"If you weren't here, I don't think I could stop myself from using it again. I just want this jumble inside of my head to go away and the Dialaudid did that, at least for a time. I'm not strong enough to keep away from it if I were alone."
"You're not alone, Kid. I'm right here."
"For how long?"
"As long as you need me," Morgan told him, giving the shoulder his hand was still resting on a squeeze. "You know Reid, talking about whatever is going through your head will help."
"Not now," Reid said, the two words coming out in a gasp. His voice was shaky as he continued. "Please don't make me . . ."
"Shhh, I'm not going to make you do anything you're not ready for," Morgan told him, stopping the protest. "Just know that any time you want to talk, no matter what time of day it is, I'm here."
Though his arms still blocked his face, Morgan could see the nod that Reid gave in reply. They went back to sitting in silence, Morgan watching the steady fall and rise of his friend's chest, which was the only movement. The older man wasn't sure how much time had passed when Reid suddenly sat up, moving himself to the side of the bed.
"I need out of here."
"Reid, what is it?" Morgan asked, concerned. He got quickly to his feet, looking down at the younger man.
"I can't stay here any longer," Reid said. "I need to get away from here for a bit." He paused long enough to look up at Morgan, who couldn't help but compare the look in the brown eyes to that of an animal that felt trapped. "Morgan take me somewhere else."
"Where do you want to go?"
"I don't care. Even if we just drive around for a bit, I need out of here," Reid said desperately.
Morgan nodded, and reached down to grasp Reid's upper arm, helping the younger man to his feet. Remembering his own feelings of wanting to get out of the apartment, Morgan could understand how he felt. He just hoped this wasn't too much for Reid to handle.
An hour later, Spencer Reid sat on a park bench, enjoying the brightness of the sun shining down, though he sat in the shade. The cool breeze on his skin felt soothing, just as the warmth of the sun as he and Morgan had walked from the car to this bench had been a good feeling. After the last few days, Reid was just relieved to be feeling anything other than the pain, fear, guilt and despair that had become his constant companions over the last few months.
Not far away, Morgan stood in the sun on the parks grass. Holding the blue plastic wand in his hand, the older man blew bubbles into the air. Bubbles that caught in the breeze and floated away. Reid wished those bubbles would take his problems away with them.
~But it just isn't that simple, ~ he thought.
Placing the wand back in the Mr. Bubbles bottle, Morgan looked back toward the bench where he had left Reid sitting, to find the younger man watching him. Walking back to the bench, he sat down next Reid.
"Here, you take a turn," Morgan said, holding the bottle of bubble solution out to the younger man. Reid shook his head. Taking the wand out of the solution, Morgan gently blew a few bubbles in his friend's direction.
"Stop it," Reid said softly, batting at the bubbles with a hand. Morgan didn't miss the small smile that came to the younger man's lips as he said the two words though. "Just where did you get those anyway?" Reid asked, as Morgan put the wand back in the bottle.
"Garcia. She gave them to me about a week ago. Told me I needed to lighten up a bit and enjoy one of life's simple pleasures. Figured it wouldn't hurt to give it a try."
"Is it helping?"
"I managed to get a small smile out of you, so yeah it's helping," Morgan replied.
Reid looked away from Morgan then. Glancing around the park he watched the others enjoying the warm sunny afternoon. From kids playing to athletes working out, to mothers walking by pushing strollers. Every so often, he would catch somebody looking in his direction and see the look of pity on their faces.
"I had hoped that getting out of the apartment would let me escape it for a bit but it's not helping. They know."
"Who knows?" Morgan asked, not following the change in the conversations.
"The other people here in the park. I can see it when they look at me. They know what I am. Know that I'm an addict."
"No Reid, they don't know that much," Morgan said, reaching out to place a hand on Reid's forearm. "They're reacting to what they see. You don't look well, Reid, even more so after the last few days. They think you're ill and they're right. Addiction is an illness, one that we're going to get you through."
"There doesn't seem to be an end," Reid replied, shaking his head and looking down at the grass in front of him.
"There is. You'll find it. Just give it time."
"There's too much time. Handcuffed and restrained in that chair, I was all too aware at the passing time. Seconds ticking along into minutes and minutes into hours. Time seemed to move slowly, especially when Charles Hankle . . ."
Reid's voice faltered. Morgan gently squeezed his friend's arm.
"Keep going, Reid. Get it out," Morgan coaxed quietly. "It'll help in the long run."
"Charles Hankle wanted me to confess my sin. He believed that physical punishment was the way to elicit that confession, from me and from his son. Every blow he struck to my bare foot made me think about what Tobias must have gone through growing up and then the pain would block any rational thought out. I just heard Hankle's voice telling me to confess my sin. My own desperate voice telling him I wasn't a sinner, until finally I realized I was. I committed one of the worse sins there is. I sent her away."
"Sent who away, Reid?"
"My mother. She needed my help and I sent her away. Locked her away at Bennington so that I wouldn't have to deal with her."
"Reid, you know that isn't true."
"Yes it is. She's at Bennington because I committed her. I turned my back on her."
Morgan sighed. "Look, Reid, I can't imagine how hard a decision that was for you to make but you never turned your back on her. You were getting her the help that she needed, that you couldn't provide."
"I sent her away."
"Reid, I've seen you with your mother. I've seen the love that you have for her. You brought her out here when you thought she was in danger. Took the time to fly back out to Vegas with her. Know that you call the sanitarium every week to check up on her."
"How?" Reid said, looking over at him.
"They called yesterday and I talked to them. Seems they were worried that you missed your weekly check in."
"What did you tell them?"
"That you were feeling a bit under the weather but it was nothing serious. I knew you wouldn't want to worry her."
Reid let out a sigh and sank back against the bench.
"Those aren't actions of a son who has turned his back on his mother. They're the actions of a son who loves his mother enough to get her the help that she needs, despite the pain it causes himself. You may not be sin free, Reid, but sending your mother away isn't a sin you're guilty of."
Reid felt himself nodding. Clinging to Morgan's words because he wanted them to be true more than that he really believed them yet.
"Morgan, how can I get rid of these memories? I just want them to go away. To be able to go on with my life and not have them haunting me."
"You can't get rid of the memories, Reid. I wish I could tell you otherwise. As for getting past them haunting you, the best thing you can do is make new memories. Happy memories that can help the terrible ones fade into the past."
"I don't think I know how to make happy memories at this point. All I seem to remember is causing pain to those around me. Hitting you. Snapping at Prentiss. Making JJ cry."
"Reid close your eyes," Morgan said. Reid looked at him with questions in his eyes. "Trust me," Morgan said softly. He waited for Reid to do as he had been told. "Okay, now take a deep breath and let it out slowly."
Morgan paused as Reid followed his instructions. "Now open your eyes, and look around you. Look at what a beautiful day it is. Take in the people enjoying themselves. Taking pleasure in Garcia's simple pleasures," he said. He removed the plastic wand from the bottle of bubbles, and held it out to Reid. "Now take this and blow some bubbles."
"I don't want . . ."
"Come on. For me," Morgan coaxed.
Slowly, Reid took the plastic wand from Morgan. Holding it in front of his lips, Reid pursed his lips and blew gently. Several bubbles formed and blew away in the gentle wind that was still blowing. Reid watched them drift away into the air, a representation of the carefree innocence of childhood. As children's laughter reached his ear, Reid couldn't stop the small smile that turned up the corners of his mouth slightly.
"There you go. You just made a happy memory. Hold on to it and when those other feelings start to overwhelm you, remember how you're feeling right now."
Reid didn't speak, afraid of shattering the easy feeling that had come over him right then. Instead, he nodded in reply. It might have been a small step, but it was a step out of the darkness.
As he drove the SUV back toward Reid's apartment building, Morgan kept stealing quick glances at Reid in the passenger seat. The simple outing to the park had worn Reid, who had been exhausted to begin with, out even further. He sat limply in the passenger seat, his head resting against the window. Morgan could see that the younger man's eyes were opened, but wondered if he was really seeing the scenery that was going by.
Returning his attention to the road, Morgan continued the drive. It wasn't until he heard a gasp from his passenger that he glanced in Reid's direction again.
Reid now wore a panicked expression. His eyes were locked on something outside of the vehicle. His breaths came in gasps as Morgan recognized the symptoms of another panic attack. The dark-skinned profiler quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road. Putting the vehicle into park, he climbed from the SUV, ignoring the honks of a passing motorist. Making his way around the vehicle he pulled open the passengers' door. Morgan realized immediately that Reid wasn't aware of his presence. His eyes were focused on something behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, all Morgan, saw was the cemetery they had been passing.
Confused, he turned his attention back to Reid. "Reid, can you hear me?" Morgan asked, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other hand against the side of his cheek. Reid gave no indication that he was aware of Morgan's presence. "Reid, focus on my voice," he continued, as Reid's gasps for air continued. Moving in front of him, he blocked the view of the cemetery from the younger man. "Come on, Pretty Boy, snap out of it," Morgan said, tapping the side of Reid's face lightly.
"I'm not strong enough," Reid said, through gasps for air.
"Reid, focus on my voice. My voice is what's real."
"Morgan?"
The single word was barely understandable but it was enough to let the older man know he was getting through to Reid.
"That's right. I'm right here. Focus on my voice. Take a deep slow breath," Morgan told him, placing his second hand on Reid's other shoulder, looking for any signs of recognition in the younger man's gaze.
Suddenly, the young man before him dissolved into tears. His breaths coming in erratic broken sobs. Morgan put his arms around him, and held him close, the seatbelt awkwardly between them. Reid was limp in his arms, making no attempt to even hold on to Morgan.
"Easy Reid," Morgan said soothingly, wondering what was going on. Wondering what nightmare Reid had just been reliving. "Take it easy. I've got you," he said, knowing that he needed to keep talking. Needed to give Reid something to anchor him in reality now that he had gotten through to him. Wanting answers, but knowing his first priority was getting Reid to calm down and past the panic attack that had come over him.