AN: This chapter's prompt was suggested by RoseLaurel. Thanks for the suggestions for the prompts!
Prompt: A small milk white owl statue with striking red eyes watched.
"I could stay tonight if you wanted to head home and catch up on some sleep. You look as tired as Reid does," Prentiss said as Morgan walked her to the apartment door an hour later. Reid had retreated to his room about twenty minutes earlier after eating very little.
Morgan shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't feel comfortable leaving him, especially not at night. The nightmares have gotten worse as he's gotten past the withdrawal symptoms. He still needs me here, Prentiss."
Emily reached up and patted her co-worker's shoulder. "Neither of you is in this alone. Don't make yourself sick trying to help him. It won't do either of you any good."
"Yes mother," Morgan told her lightly. Prentiss shot him an exasperated look, which caused him to smile. "Seriously, though I hear you. We'll figure something out eventually. Right now, I think I need to just hang in for a few more days."
"You're a good guy, Derek Morgan."
Embarrassed, Morgan glanced down at the floor. The awkward moment was broken by the sound of breaking glass from the direction of the bedroom. Morgan was immediately heading in that direction.
"Reid?" Morgan called out, reaching the bedroom door. Reid was nowhere in sight, and Morgan headed for the bathroom.
The door was open, and Morgan found the source of the noise. The medicine cabinet mirror was shattered. Reid was standing in front of the sink. Crossing over to him, Morgan looked down to see his right hand covered with blood.
"What's going on, Kid?" Morgan asked quietly, as he reached out to grasp Reid's right wrist. There was a good size piece of glass sticking out between the knuckles of the ring finger and middle finger, which Morgan pulled out.
"I hate myself and I don't know how you guys can't hate me too. I almost got JJ killed. I gave in to an UnSub when he asked me to choose people to live just to save myself and then turned to drugs when things got hard because I didn't want to deal with the reality of everything. I've not only ruined my life but the lives of the only people other than my Mom who have ever cared about me. I'm a terrible person. I don't know why Tobias brought me back. He should have let me die."
"Hey now, don't talk like that," Morgan told him, taking a towel that Prentiss handed to him, and wrapping it around Reid's bleeding hand. Taking a quick count, he came up with at least three different cuts on the hand.
"Why not? It's the truth. You've got your own life Morgan and here you have been cooped up in this stupid apartment with me for the past week. I'm sorry."
"I've been where I've needed to be," Morgan told him, as he clasped the Reid's bleeding hand between his own. He glanced over his shoulder at Prentiss. "Can you keep pressure on this? I need to make a phone call."
"Yeah, sure," Prentiss said, stepping forward and taking Reid's towel clad hand in her own.
Already taking his cell phone from its clip, Morgan walked out into the bedroom. Pressing the button for Eric's number, the doctor was soon on the other end of the line.
"Is he talking about the pain at all? Making comments about his hand hurting or anything like that?" Eric asked, after Morgan had explained to him what happened.
"No. The only thing he's said so far is talking about hating himself and wishing Tobias had let him die down in Georgia. Why?"
"It's a tactic some addicts use. They injure themselves to get drugs legally."
"I don't think that's what this was."
"Just make sure you keep that bit of information in mind when you're dealing with him, Derek. I know he's your friend but when they're looking for a way to get drugs addicts can do some underhanded things and he is a recovering addict. Right now though, we need to get him patched up. Bring him down to the clinic. I should be able to deal with it there."
Ending the call, Morgan headed back into the bathroom. Reid was seated on the closed lid of the toilet, while Prentiss knelt down in front of him, applying pressure to his right hand.
"Okay, Kid, Eric is going to meet us down at the clinic . . ."
"I'm fine, Morgan," Reid protested.
"We'll let a doctor be the judge of that. It's either the clinic or the emergency room, though you're going to have a lot more explaining to do if you take that second option."
Morgan heard Reid sigh and knew that he was giving in. Reid free his hand from Prentiss' grasp, and closing his left hand over top of the other, held his right hand against his mid-section as he got to his feet.
"I'll clean up here, for you," Prentiss said, glancing first at the broken mirror and then down at the blood staining the white basin of the sink.
Morgan nodded, as Reid stepped past Prentiss. Putting his arm around Reid's shoulders, Morgan started leading the younger man toward the front door. It wasn't long before they were downstairs, and walking out of the apartment building. They had past a couple of Reid's neighbors on their way into the building, who had asked after Reid with genuine concern. Morgan assured them that it was just a slight mishap and that Reid would be fine, even as he continued to usher the younger man toward his car.
They were on their way to the clinic before Reid spoke again.
"I wasn't trying to hurt myself on purpose," he said quietly.
"Then what were you trying to do?" Morgan asked, keeping his attention focused on the road and the traffic around him. Reid answered the question, but the words were too soft for Morgan to make out. "What was that, Kid?" he asked, hoping Reid would repeat the answer and not clam up on him.
"I just couldn't stand looking at my own reflection. I hate myself right now. I've hurt so many people that I care about in so many ways. When I saw myself in the mirror, it was like I was seeing all that displayed in front of me and I just wanted to put an end to it. Just wanted to get rid of the reflection of what I have become."
Morgan chanced a glance in Reid's direction. The younger man had his forehead resting against the window. Morgan couldn't help but notice how lost his friend looked right about now but he was at a loss for words. He didn't know what he could possibly say that would help ease the anguish Reid was feeling right now.
"Kid, please don't get mad at me but I feel obligated to make this suggestion."
"I don't need to see a psychologist Morgan. I'm not crazy."
"I know you're not. However, you are dealing with a lot of emotional issues that a professional would be able to help you sort out."
"I'm sorry I said anything," Reid said quietly. "I won't burden you with anything else."
~Damn it!~ Morgan silently swore. "That's not what I meant. You can tell me anything, Kid. I'll always be willing to listen but the thing is I'm not always going to have the answers. I have no idea how to help you sort things out and come to terms with things. That's all out of my expertise."
Morgan paused as he waited for an answer. When one wasn't forthcoming, he cast a quick glance at Reid again. The younger man was staring silently out the window. Morgan let out a sigh. ~Eric warned me this could be harder than getting him through the detox process.~
The rest of the drive to the clinic was silent. After parking, the two profilers walked silently into the building. There were several people sitting in the small waiting room, and a middle age woman wearing scrubs sat behind the desk. From the top counter of the desk, a small milk white owl statue with striking red eyes watched. Morgan had to do a double take to make sure the thing wasn't alive as it seemed almost real.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked.
"My friend cut his hand. We were supposed to meet Dr. Rollins here," Morgan told her.
"Ah yes, he told me he was expecting you. One moment, please."
The woman disappeared through a door and moments later returned with Eric behind her.
"Come on back," Eric told them, standing in the doorway. He gestured to another door just beyond the end of the desk.
Eric led them to one of the curtained off areas in the room behind the desk. Murmurs of voices could be heard as other staff members talked softly with other patients.
"Not the best set up, I know but we make do with what we can get here," Eric said in a way of an explanation as he drew the curtain closed behind them. "Why don't you go ahead an lay down, and we'll get that hand taken care of," he said, looking at Reid.
As Reid climbed up onto the examining table, and laid back, Eric walked over to the counter unit in the corner of the small area. He washed his hands, donned gloves and grabbed what he would need to clean the wounds. As he turned back to the table, the doctor hooked a rolling chair with his foot and moved it toward where Reid was laying. Placing his things on the exam table next to Reid, Eric settled in the chair, and reached out to take Reid's towel wrapped hand, which the profiler had been laying across himself.
Eric carefully unwrapped the towel, examining the cuts as he held the injured hand in his own.
"You said you pulled a piece of glass out of his hand?" Eric asked Morgan as he rested Reid's hand down on the table.
"Yeah, from that cut," Morgan said, pointing to the cut between knuckles that fresh blood was still slowly oozing out of. The other cuts seemed to have stopped bleeding already.
"I think that one is going to need a few stitches," the doctor commented as he began to wash off the blood and disinfect the wounds. "Spencer do you want something mild to help with the pain?" Eric asked, not about to give him any prescription strength drugs or narcotics but knowing even Ibuprofen would help some, and not just with the pain. Already he noticed some swelling present.
Reid shook his head. The answer encouraged Eric who up until this point had still suspected punching the mirror had been a way to get some strong drugs.
"Okay," Eric said. " What I'm going to do then, is inject a numbing agent into that area of your hand so I can put the stitches in with minimal discomfort."
His explanation got a nod in response from Reid. Once he had finished cleaning and disinfecting the three cuts on Reid's hand, Eric examined them for stray pieces of glass. Finding none, he picked up his stuff and went back to the counter. After numbing the hand, he started putting in the few necessary stitches. From the other side of the table, Morgan had to look away from the procedure. Glancing down at Reid's left hand, he saw that the younger man had it clenched in a fist, his knuckles turning white.
Reaching down, Morgan took the hand in his own. Easing it out of a fist, he slipped his own hand into his friend's. Given the conversation on the ride over here, Morgan was surprised when Reid didn't pull his hand away.
"A few stitches and you'll be all patched up, Kid. Nothing to worry about."
"You're the one who couldn't watch," Reid commented, feeling the pressure on his hand from the needle going into the skin, but not feeling any pain.
"So sue me, I hate the sight of any type of needle."
"Bet Garcia would love to know that tidbit of information."
"I'm sure she would. She would also hold it over my head, which is why you're not going to say a thing to her," Morgan told him.
"My lips are sealed," Reid replied lightly.
"All finished," Eric said a short time later.
As Reid went to sit up though, the doctor placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Not so fast, there. I want to go find our portable x-ray machine and make sure you didn't fracture anything. There is quit a bit of bruising."
"I'm fine," Reid protested.
"Kid, listen to your doctor."
Reid looked from Eric to Morgan and then back to Eric. He was not only overpowered, but he was also outnumbered. He let his head rest back against the pillow in resignation and closed his eyes.
Seeing that his patient wasn't going to make an immediate escape attempt, Eric turned toward the cabinet above the counter. Taking an ice pack from a shelf, he broke the seal, shook it and tossed it and a towel to Morgan.
"See that he leaves that on that hand until I get back," Eric said, walking through the break in the curtain.