"Relationships are fragile and easily broken. After the damage, you can pick up the pieces and put them back together, but you rarely find every piece and the glass never looks the same again"
Hotch sat in his office practically seething. He'd spent the entirety of the previous evening taking care of a stoic but clearly heartbroken Reid. Once he had cleaned up the apartment, removing all of the broken glass and blood, he had ordered food for them both. Reid had barely touched it. It was obvious he was in a lot of pain and, thanks to Tobias Hankel, he was unable to take anything that would actually relieve it. Watching Reid struggle through his discomfort made him furious. By no fault of his own Reid was in pain once again due to someone else's cruelty, and the one thing he really needed in order to help him, he couldn't have. It was like Morgan and Tobias were in it together, just trying to make him suffer.
Hotch's fists clenched. He'd been in the office from 6am, trying to figure out what to do about the whole situation. He'd left Reid's just after 10pm, once he'd helped the young man get into his pyjamas; much to Reid's embarrassment and displeasure. He left him wrapped up in bed with pain killers, his phone, a large supply of water on the side table, and a promise that he would be back the following evening to check in on him. As usual, Reid had insisted it wasn't necessary, but Hotch had silenced him with a stern look and a finger to the lips. Another gesture Reid did not seem to appreciate but accepted. Hotch suspected had he been anyone else, Reid would have found some way of driving him out. It was only Reid's unrelenting respect for authority figures that allowed him to remain by his side all evening. He could almost feel Reid's horror as he watched his boss clean up his apartment. Utter mortification rested on his youthful features until he eventually closed his eyes, unable to watch any longer. The only thing stopping him from attempting to leap up to help was Hotch's firm order to remain in his seat.
Hotch had found himself pondering Reid's character a lot last night. He had always been a curious mix of juxtapositions. Physically weak, emotionally sensitive and completely unimposing, but incomparably strong, incredibly stoic with a surprisingly high pain threshold. Seemingly lacking confidence and doubtful of his abilities but shamelessly proud and fiercely independent. He was all the things that should make him totally unsuitable to be in the Bureau and everything that made him the perfect fit. Whilst the positives came with tremendous bonuses, the negatives were for Reid to experience alone. They made him an easy target. And whilst he never truly showed it, Hotch knew it affected him. Even something as simple as a joke at his expense could wound him deeply. Reid's outer shell hid layers and layers of wounds. Ones he would never reveal to anyone unless forced to. Hotch could only imagine how deeply he had been wounded this time.
His thoughts landed back with Morgan. Reid had insisted he was not responsible for the attack. So desperate was his insistence that it couldn't have been anyone else who was responsible. Hotch's first thought was to fire Morgan on the spot and he had every intention of doing so when he arrived in the office this morning. Until he opened his phone and found a 3am text message from a clearly sleepless Reid.
"Please don't fire him - Spencer."
He'd obviously been awake all-night conscious of the consequences of Hotch discovering him in the state he was in. In that moment of sleeplessness, he'd given up any pretences that Morgan wasn't responsible, presumably knowing that Hotch was already convinced of the truth. Instead, he'd thrown himself upon Hotch's mercy, in a last-ditch attempt to save his colleague from punishment. Hotch couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the completely selfless text message. It threw him for a loop. He hadn't wanted to fire Morgan. He'd always had total respect for the man, he was an excellent agent and the team needed him. But this was a bridge too far by anyone's standards.
Morgan had beaten someone. A colleague. A friend. He'd physically assaulted him, leaving him helpless and bleeding on the floor without a second of consideration for his welfare. He hadn't called an ambulance. He hadn't checked to see if he was okay. He hadn't done anything to ensure Reid would actually survive the assault. He'd needed medical treatment for cracked ribs and a dislocated shoulder. If the neighbour hadn't called the police, would he still be stuck on the floor now? He could barely walk after a visit to the hospital. Hotch very much doubted he'd have managed it prior. He knew Reid had lost consciousness. What if he hadn't woken up? If he did wake up, alone, would he just have simply waited for someone to find him or for infection to take him? For all Morgan knew, Reid could be dead. He had done nothing. Well, that wasn't actually true, he came into work the next day and pushed for Reid to be fired. Just to add insult to already severe injury. Yet Reid was worrying about Morgan's job at three in the morning. Hotch could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his palms sweating.
Every fibre of his being was telling him to fire Morgan. He'd be cuffing him if it was up to him. He still could. He had evidence of Reid's injuries. He had Morgan's bruised knuckles. But the case would fall apart the second it reached Reid. And Hotch knew, if he went behind his back on this, Reid would never forgive him. He'd likely lose them both.
He picked up his phone and looked at the message from Reid again and shook his head. The kid had no self-preservation skills whatsoever. But as much as Hotch wanted to protect him, he also needed to respect him. And he simply had to know what he was thinking.
Putting his head into his hand, he hit dial. Reid answered almost instantly. He was clearly still awake.
"Hotch." The pain was evident in his voice.
"Reid... Have you slept?" Hotch asked with concern.
"Yeah, I got a few hours." Hotch rolled his eyes, knowing that was a complete lie.
"How is your pain?" He didn't even know why he was asking. He could hear it wasn't good and he knew the answer would not match the sound of his voice.
"It's fine. Getting better... is everything okay?" Reid asked quickly, changing the subject.
"I've just seen your message..." He trailed off.
"Yeah?" Reid almost sounded hopeful.
"You know I can't keep him on the team after this." Hotch said carefully. He wasn't sure how Reid would respond to the implications of his words. He was essentially accusing Morgan again and that hadn't gone well last night.
"Hotch..." Reid said seriously with a sigh. "You can't take his job away from him... It's everything he's worked for." His voice sounded sad.
"He could have killed you." Hotch said firmly, feeling more confident now Reid wasn't flat out denying it.
"But he didn't... He wouldn't." Reid said, his confidence clearly shaken.
"Are you really sure about that, Reid? He did nothing to help you. Nothing to check if you were okay. For all he knows right now, you're still lay bleeding on your living room floor." The anger Hotch had felt since seeing Reid last night was threatening to over boil.
"Hotch-"
"He put you through a table, Reid."
"I lost my balance."
"He threw your PhD's at you."
"They can be replaced."
"He cracked your ribs and dislocated your shoulder. How can you want to protect him?"
"His job is his life. If you take that away he'll have nothing." Reid was practically begging now. It frustrated Hotch no end. He simply couldn't understand it.
"Reid, I don't see why that should even be a concern to you." Reid went silent for a few moments, Hotch could hear his laboured breathing from the other end of the phone.
"I'll quit if I have to."
"Reid-"
"Hotch, I am serious. He keeps his job or I go too." Hotch's mouth dropped open. Did Reid genuinely not see what the man had done to him? Or did he simply not care? After a few moments of silence, Hotch sighed.
"Just one tell me one thing, Reid."
"Anything." He said breathlessly.
"Why? After what he's done to you, why would you do this for him?"
Reid paused thoughtfully. "Because Buford's already taken enough." Hotch's jaw tensed. If he was honest, he hadn't given the man a second thought since he'd seen Reid. So overwhelmed with disbelief over the whole situation, he'd forgotten that Buford was the one ultimately pulling the strings. Trust Reid to be the one to remind him of that fact. Ever understanding, ever empathetic Spencer Reid.
Forever the doormat.
"Right." Hotch said unhappily. Hearing the submission in Hotch's voice, Reid breathed a sigh of relief. As much as his damaged chest would allow.
"Thank you, Hotch." He said gently.
"I'm not happy about this. If he even so much as looks at you the wrong way, he's gone. Do you understand?" He said firmly.
"Yes, Sir."
"And I will be making him very aware of that fact."
"Hotch-" Reid began to complain, clearly not wanting Hotch to even raise the subject with Morgan at all, but he was cut off.
"Reid, that is the deal. Take it or leave it."
"Fine. Deal." He sighed sullenly.
"I will see you later."
"There's no need."
"I'll bring dinner." Hotch then ended the call. Of all the members of his team, Reid was certainly the most stubborn. But in his typical contrasting fashion, he was also the easiest to bulldoze right through.
Hotch didn't really know how to feel. It was a strange combination of anger and relief. Anger that Reid would sacrifice his own feelings in favour of protecting Morgan, but relief for the fact that he didn't have to fire him. As angry as he was with him, Morgan was family, the team was a family unit. And as brutal as the attack had been, it wasn't who Morgan truly was. Even Hotch knew that deep down.
He rubbed at his eyes with his hand then raised his gaze to the clock on the wall. His stomach flipped. 06.55am. Morgan would be due in any minute. That's if he turned up at all. He hadn't returned to the office the previous day. Hotch had managed to keep the team's questions at bay for the afternoon, but he knew another day of missing team mates with seemingly no real explanation wasn't going to cut it. They were profilers after all. It was only a matter of time before they pieced together that Morgan and Reid's absences were related.
Hotch's gaze was suddenly drawn to the bull pen where he could see Morgan stood looking down at his desk. He was dressed casually, far too casual for work. His hand reached out to pick up a framed photograph, he was shaking as he did. Hotch watched him carefully as he stroked the photograph with his finger, it lingered for a few moments, his face appearing to crumple. He placed it back down on his desk and took a deep breath in, then his gaze lifted towards Hotch's window. Their eyes met through the blinds. Both seemed to freeze for a few moments, both knowing what was about to happen but neither one of them quite ready to face it. Hotch then pulled his gaze away and turned in his chair to face the door, giving Morgan the signal that he was waiting. Morgan's sweating hands clenched nervously and he swallowed as he made his way up the stairs towards Hotch's office. He stood outside the door for a moment taking another deep breath, closing his eyes for a second to gather strength. He then relaxed his hands and entered the office closing the door behind him.
Hotch was sat staring at him, a fierce scowl on his face, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. His hands were clasped in front of him on the desk. Morgan's eyes were nervous, guilt-ridden and scared but he met his superior's gaze, willing to take whatever Hotch was going to throw at him. He already knew that Hotch must be aware of what happened. Morgan had drunk himself into a stupor after escaping work. A few hours later and against his better judgement he had taken a taxi to Reid's, terrified of what he might find. When the car pulled up, he spotted Hotch's vehicle outside his building. Terror and relief hit him in equal measure. There was no ambulance, so Reid must have been okay. He had to be. But that was the only comfort he could take. He knew after that night, nothing would ever be the same.
"Sit down." Hotch said sternly. Morgan dropped his gaze and moved forward, pulling out his badge and gun, placing them onto Hotch's desk and pushing them towards him. Then he sat down. When his eyes lifted they had filled with tears. Hotch took in the badge and gun then met his gaze unflinchingly. "What's this?"
"My resignation." Morgan's voice broke.
Hotch shoved the items back towards him, his anger was clear. "You think you can hand over your gun and badge and just walk away?" Morgan dropped his head into his hands.
"No." He said weakly.
"So what? You fall on your own sword in some valiant gesture? You think that will in some way excuse you?" Morgan hid his face in his hands and shook his head.
"Nothing will excuse what I've done."
"You're right about that. What the hell were you thinking?" Hotch asked in frustration.
Morgan finally looked up at him again, his face crumpled and a devastated sob broke out. "I don't know. I don't know, Hotch. I just lost it. He got in my head, man and I just lost it."
Hotch frowned at him. "Did it even cross your mind that he might be lying to you? Or were you just looking for something or someone to take your anger out on?!"
Morgan looked at him desperately, grasping for some explanation that would make any kind of sense. "He told me and I didn't believe him. Then he pulled out the letter and I still didn't believe him... Then he started telling me about- about Reid, and the things he knew about him... And I just flipped. I couldn't see it. I just couldn't see it, Hotch. I'm so sorry."
"But it was easier to see Reid communicating with him, was it? That was easier to believe?"
"I don't know what I was thinking." Morgan's gaze went distant for a few moments as he cast his mind back to the conversation. "What he was saying, it didn't make sense, then suddenly, it did. The way he said it, the things he was saying. It sounded... plausible." He shook his head in disbelief. "By the time I left, I was convinced. And now, I can't even believe I even thought it. But- but the feeling, it was so strong."
"Why didn't you come to me?" Hotch asked sharply.
"All I could think about was confronting him with it. I thought he would admit it. Give me some sort of explanation. And when he didn't and he just... looked at me like he was innocent, something in me just snapped." Morgan dropped his head into his hands again.
"He was innocent, Derek." Hotch said, anger lacing his words.
"I know, I know!" He answered desperately, his foot tapping with stress.
"You beat him, knocked him through a glass table and then left him on his own unable to get help." Hotch practically spat.
"Oh god." Morgan gasped, unable to cope with the emotions flooding in his chest. He wanted to crawl into the ground and never come out again.
Hotch pulled out his phone and opened up the photos. "This is what you did to him." Morgan refused to look up, wrapping his hands around the back of his head in denial. "Look at them, dammit!" Hotch slammed his fist down on the desk as he stood and moved around towards Morgan, shoving the phone in front of his view. Morgan tried to flinch away but Hotch followed him with the images, not allowing him to avoid them. He scrolled through them. "Stitches to his eyebrow, lip and temple." He said forcefully. "A black eye from where you kicked him in the face. Probable concussion if his demeanour is anything to go by." He flicked through more images. "Stitches to his shoulder, arm and side from where you pushed him through the table."
"Oh god." Morgan's eyes opened wide as he finally looked at the pictures properly, unable to avoid it anymore. Hotch flicked back through the first ones to make sure he took in everything he had done.
"A dislocated shoulder." A picture of the sling flashed up on the phone and tears ran down Morgan's face. As Hotch flicked to the final pictures of Reid's stomach and chest, Morgan gasped again. "And two cracked ribs with severe bruising."
"Oh my god... I did that." Morgan said in disbelief. "I did that to him."
"After you left, he lost consciousness." Morgan looked at him in horror. "He woke up to police and paramedics, no thanks to you of course. Luckily his neighbour heard him hit the floor and called the police. Otherwise he'd probably still be lying there now." Hotch said coldly.
Morgan now took the phone out of his hands and scrolled through the pictures, almost in shock. It felt like a bad dream. Seeing Reid's face completely battered, his sad expression when Hotch caught him with his eyes open, the bruises, the stitches, the sling. It was sickening. He felt like he was looking at crime scene photos of a victim. Then a coldness overtook him when he realised he was. This was a victim. A victim of a serious, violent and traumatising assault. And he was the perpetrator.
"He – he went to hospital?" He didn't know why he was asking. He already knew the answer to that. But he had to fill in the blanks. It had played on his mind since he left that night, even as his mind had tried its best to block out the concern with anger, the worry still gnawed at him in the depths of his stomach.
"Yes." Hotch said simply.
"And he called you?" Morgan asked, knowing he had no right to answers.
Hotch dropped his gaze and sat back down. "He didn't call me, no. If he had I would not have been here yesterday." Hotch said bitingly. "He thought he could hide it by telling me he was unwell for the rest of the week." He looked at Morgan accusingly.
"Why would he do that?" Morgan closed his eyes. The guilt was crippling.
"I went round to check on him after your reaction yesterday. Something felt wrong and I had my suspicions."
"And he told you what happened. " Morgan nodded in understanding, his face filled with shame.
"No." Morgan's surprised gaze flicked back up. "He told me he was mugged. But he couldn't keep his story straight. So I asked him outright if it was you." Morgan cringed. He didn't know how much more he could bear to listen to of this. But he knew he had to. He deserved every second of this. It was nothing compared to what he'd put Reid through. "But he denied it. Fiercely." Hotch frowned again. "He protected you." Hotch shook his head in disgust.
"No." Morgan spoke in complete denial. "No, I don't deserve that. He should be pressing charges." Morgan looked genuinely troubled by this news.
"I couldn't agree more. And if it was up to me, that's exactly what he would be doing." Morgan stared at him with fear in his eyes. "But he refuses. Call it some misplaced loyalty, or just plain stupidity. But he won't see you lose everything."
Morgan hadn't even dared to hope for this. He felt guilty for the feeling of relief that swept through his chest. His worst nightmare was going to prison alongside those he'd been hunting. He knew he deserved it. He knew he belonged there after this. But the thought terrified him.
"Hotch. I am so sorry. I will never forgive myself for any of this."
"I hope not. You have let the team down, you've let me down, but most of all you've let Reid down. Without trust, this team is nothing. And you didn't trust anyone enough to even tell us that you were going to see Buford, never mind what you believed Reid was capable of... You've hurt him deeply."
"Oh god, I know, Hotch. Some of the things I said to him."
"You threw his PhD's at him." Hotch grimaced, his voice laced with disbelief. "When he was lying on the floor injured, you took the time to take them off the wall – things so precious to him - and you threw them at him. Two of them are damaged. One irreparably." Morgan squeezed his eyes shut and winced. It broke his heart that he had done that. "You can't take that back, Morgan. The wounds will heal but you know Reid, the words and the actions hurt him more than any punch ever will."
"He will never forgive me. And I don't expect him to. I don't deserve it."
"No, you don't. Your actions have proven to me that you are not a trustworthy member of this team. You do not trust us and without that, this team cannot function effectively. You have proven that you are easily compromised and you lack the self-control required of a BAU agent. And when that self-control goes, you think with your fists as opposed to your head, which for a profiler is a fatal flaw. You have shown that you are capable of physically harming a member of this team. Someone who is physically smaller than you, more vulnerable and trusted you unreservedly. You beat him mercilessly." A broken sob escaped Morgan's lips. "And seemingly without emotion as you left him injured and bleeding without any means of obtaining help." Hotch knew he was driving the point home. He was almost relishing seeing the guilt, shame and devastation in Morgan's face. It took him back to his days of being a prosecutor and it was no more than Morgan deserved. "You will hand in your gun and badge." He saw Morgan take a shuddering breath in and nod. Hotch grit his teeth for the next bit. He wished he could just stop there. "You are signed off until you have completed mandatory counselling. Five sessions. Then you will continue the counselling on a weekly basis for the foreseeable. After those five sessions they will do an assessment, then and only then will you return to this office. Do I make myself clear?"
Morgan looked at him in complete shock. His mouth had dropped open and his breathing had practically stopped.
"Wh-what?" He stuttered, unable to believe what he had just heard.
"Do you understand?" Hotch asked firmly.
"Ye- no... I'm- I'm not fired?" Morgan asked incredulously.
"Again, if it was up to me, you would be. But I cant afford to lose two agents and I won't see Reid leave because of this." Hotch said simply, without emotion.
"Wh- wait... are you saying Reid told you he would quit if you fired me?" Morgan's hands tingled. He had not expected this at all.
Hotch looked at him coldly. "If I see you even speak to him in the wrong way, you are gone. Do you understand?"
Morgan was flabbergasted, his mouth still hung open in complete disbelief.
"Do you understand me, Agent?" Hotch said harshly.
"Uh, yes. Yes, I understand." Morgan was finally pulling himself out of his shock. "But surely he's not going to want to work with me after this. How could he?" Morgan frowned in confusion. How was this even going to work? It made sense for him to leave. It was the obvious thing to do.
"That's for you the two of you to work out." Hotch shrugged, clearly not invested in this whole idea. As much as he didn't want to lose Reid, he was equally annoyed at his lack of self-care. No rational person would place themselves in the vicinity of their attacker everyday by choice. It was almost like a form of self-punishment and Hotch wondered if Reid was even conscious of what he was doing. It was like he was so used to accepting that people he cared about were going to hurt him. Like he felt he deserved it. The act of putting Morgan's pain above his own was a tell-tale sign of how little Reid respected himself or thought of his own welfare. It frustrated Hotch no end. But this was one piece of stubbornness Hotch was not going to be able to bulldoze through. If he knew anything about Reid, it was that when he made up his mind to do something, he was immoveable.
"Hotch, I know I have no right. But thank you." Morgan said sheepishly.
"It's not me you need to thank." Morgan nodded in response, very aware of that fact.
"I swear, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to him." Morgan said, tears running down his face again.
"I will have my eye on you, Derek. One slip up, one wrong move and you're out."
Morgan's brows furrowed. He hated this. He had always been so trusted by Hotch. He'd been his stand in during Foyet for god's sake. And now the man could barely look at him without his lip curling slightly in disgust. Now he had to live under his watchful eye 24/7. Was it even worth keeping his job under these circumstances? Things would never be the same. And the worst part of it was, it was no more than he had earned. A fitting punishment was to be fired, arrested and locked up. This didn't even come close. But still, it stung. And he had no one else to blame but himself.
"I understand."
As soon as he left the office, now sans gun and badge, he knew exactly where he needed to go. He didn't even expect to make it past the threshold, but luck was on his side when another tenant let him in. So, here he was, stood outside Reid's apartment door, hand poised to knock but lacking the courage to do so.
His heart was in his throat and his chest felt like it might burst with anxiety. The last thing he wanted was to see first-hand what he had done. But equally, he knew it was the only thing he needed to do. The only thing he could do. He had to accept responsibility for this and Reid had to know how truly sorry he was for it.
He finally knocked. Butterflies churned in his stomach when he did. He stood for a while, listening. He couldn't hear any signs of movement. After what he considered a polite enough wait, he gently knocked again.
"Coming!" Came the pained and slightly exasperated voice from the other side of the door. Morgan's spine tingled.
He heard the door unlock and then it pulled open. His breath caught as he took in his best friend. The pictures had been bad enough, but they really didn't reflect the true horror of his state. The sallowness of his skin; the depth of the bruising to his face; the uncomfortable pulling of the stitches to his bloodied cuts; the stooping of his stance from where he was clearly in pain. Reid looked terrible. And it was all his fault.
Reid's eyes widened as he took in Morgan on his doorstep. He took an involuntary step back, a shiver running down his back. He was scared, Morgan could see it and it broke him. Instantly tears flooded out of him once again.
"Oh my god, kid. I'm so, so sorry. What have I done to you?"
Reid broke the eye contact feeling self-conscious. The guilt and pity in Morgan's face was too much.
"Why are you here?" He said quietly, his voice breaking slightly.
"I had to see you." Morgan took a small step forward and Reid automatically moved backwards, losing his balance a little in his panic. Morgan grabbed his arm in order to steady him but Reid instantly pulled it back like he'd been burned.
"Don't touch me." He whispered, his eyes flashing with fear.
Morgan held his hands up innocently. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you here?" He repeated.
Reid was still not looking at him. He had the expression of a kicked puppy. His body was tense and guarded, like he expected Morgan to turn any second. It made him sick. He couldn't believe this was how his best friend was behaving around him now. The sad thing was, it was perfectly understandable. Morgan had truly broken the young man in front of him. Gone were those large trusting eyes that looked at him with such openness; replaced with shifty, nervous glances. The type Morgan only saw when Reid was incredibly uncomfortable or anxious.
"I needed to know that you're okay. And to tell you how truly sorry I am."
Reid laughed nervously. He obviously didn't believe it.
"Well, you've said it now." That was his invitation to leave.
"Reid. Please can I come in?" Morgan saw the reluctance in Reid's face. "Please?" He begged softly.
Reid finally looked at him, his eyes glistening with tears. He reluctantly pushed the door back and moved out of Morgan's way to allow him entry. He closed the door behind him, careful to keep him within view at all times. Reid pointed to the couch. "Sit down." He said, voice shaking.
Morgan didn't really want to sit, but he knew that Reid needed to be in control of this exchange, so he did as he was asked.
Reid kept his distance until Morgan was firmly sat on the couch. Morgan's gaze landed on the remnants of the broken coffee table. All that was left was a broken metal frame which had bent under the force of Reid's weight. The image of Reid's body slamming through that table hit him and he put his head into his hands. Seeing Reid now, his lithe frame, his submissiveness, his nervousness, all such parts of who he was, Morgan felt sick with himself. Reid really hadn't stood a chance against him and he hadn't stopped. He'd pulled him back up to his feet over and over like a rag doll to hit him again. Morgan practically groaned as the memories slammed into him.
Reid watched him carefully as Morgan clearly processed what he had done. The guilt was plain to see but there was nothing in Reid that was happy to see it. He didn't want this for either of them. Reid shifted himself towards a chair opposite the couch, wincing as he did. His abdomen was incredibly painful and walking was not a comfortable sensation. Morgan lifted his gaze to watch as Reid almost shuffled towards the chair, his arm tightly wrapped around his midsection, his focus in that moment was solely on relieving any pain in his body. Tears fell once again.
"I can't believe I've done this to you." Morgan practically sobbed. "I am so damn sorry. I always swore I would protect you."
Reid's brows furrowed. "Protect me?" He asked with slight irritation. "I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself."
Morgan backtracked quickly. "No, no, that's not what I meant. I just- I've always seen you as my little brother." He shook his head in disgust. "I've always had your back. If someone else had done this to you, I'd have killed them. But this was me. God, I feel sick."
Reid frowned at him. "Why did you do it?" He asked quietly.
Morgan sighed and shook his head. "There is no explanation I can give that justifies it."
Reid's gaze hardened. "I'm not looking for justification. I'm looking for an explanation. I think I at least deserve that."
Morgan looked at him, his eyes wide and apologetic. "No, of course... sorry." His hands clasped together anxiously. "He got into my head. I didn't believe him at first. I knew you would never do something like that. But then he just became more and more convincing."
Reid cut him off. "No- why did you do this?" He asked, gesturing to his injuries. "I know why you believed him. I'm not blind to who he is and what he does. But why, out of all the options you had, was this your first move?"
Morgan was taken aback a little at the detachment in Reid's voice. He felt like an unsub that Reid had in the interrogation room. He was being psychoanalysed. There was no judgement, just a hard, cold stare looking for the truth. Morgan sighed; Reid was owed that much.
"Because that is what I do." Morgan said shamefully. "This is me. Before being a cop, before the FBI, before my record was expunged. I was an angry kid. I used to fight, I used to take my anger out on other people." Morgan dropped his gaze to the floor. "It's a part of me I thought I had left behind. I thought I had control of it." Morgan's fists clenched and his jaw tightened. "But no one can get under my skin the way he does."
Reid watched as Morgan's demeanour changed. His slumped body was now tense and stiff, his expression was fierce and his knuckles turned white.
"Morgan." Reid said gently, feeling the nerves building in his chest. His hands shook a little. "Derek?"
Morgan appeared to snap out of it, like he'd been pulled from a dream. He glanced at Reid and his wide eyes were looking at him anxiously. He dropped his gaze down to his clenched hands and automatically loosened them, feeling immediately disappointed in himself. He realised he'd been losing it again. "Oh god." He gasped. "He was so right about me."
Reid furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?" He asked, his voice tense.
"He said I'm still that angry young kid who wouldn't have amounted to anything without him. He was right. I've proven him so right."
Reid stared at him, his eyes flickered with sadness. "That's not true." He said quietly.
"How can you even say that? After what I've done to you?"
Reid dropped his gaze and took a deep inhale. "Carl Buford is an abuser who thrives on power and control. He wants you to think that you would be nothing without him because that gives him agency over you." Reid said matter of factly.
Morgan's hand came up to his mouth. "And I let him. Instead of fighting it, I became everything I swore I would never be again. I let him get into my head. Believed lies about you. I should have known better."
"What I don't understand is how did he know those things about me?" Reid asked with brows furrowed. His need for information outweighing his emotions right now, as it often did.
Morgan sighed and shook his head. "Richard Maxwell." He scoffed.
"The serial rapist from Boston?"
"Yeah." Morgan frowned deeply. "He's only fucking Buford's cellmate. So, he told him all about you." Reid's mouth dropped open and he paled. The thought that a child molester and a rapist had been plotting together in their cell to make this happen was horrifying. "Some form of sick revenge, I guess." Morgan's lip curled in disgust. "And I fell for it hook, line and sinker." He said bitterly. Reid's sighed sadly and dropped his gaze to the floor, wrapping his free arm around himself. "Kid, I am so sorry. What I have done is unforgiveable."
He saw Reid's body shudder now as upset took over him. "You can't fake that level of hatred, Morgan." He said, voice breaking. "The things you said." Reid took an upset breath in trying to keep his emotions under control.
"Oh god, Reid. I didn't mean anything I said." He sighed in shame. "I was saying things I knew would hurt you. It was meant to hurt you. But I didn't mean any of it."
Reid bit his lip, clearly trying to hold himself back. He never opened up about things like this, it made him feel too vulnerable. He shook his head and wiped at his eyes. "I've always been considered weird by people who don't know me, I know that. I can handle that... But for you to say those things." Reid shuddered and broke down. "It's like- like you don't see me as normal... Like I'm incapable of being human... feeling human emotions... I always thought you respected me." He whispered. "But I know that's not true now. I was fooling myself."
Morgan looked at him heartbroken. "No, Reid." He moved towards him now and got down on his knees in front of him. "That is not what I think of you. You're my best friend. You're one of the most important people in my life."
"Don't." Reid said harshly, his gaze hardening on Morgan. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying to you. Reid, you amaze me every single day." Reid shifted in the chair and then stood up to move himself away from Morgan, shutting him out. "Reid-" Morgan begged as he moved around him.
"Ah!" Reid cried out as a pain shot up him and he bent double, clasping at his chest. His face was twisted in pain. Morgan was suddenly at his side with his hand on his back.
"Careful, careful." Morgan said gently.
"Please, don't touch me." Reid flinched away and gasped as his chest complained again.
"Reid, you need to sit down." Morgan said firmly.
"Why are you even pretending to care, Morgan?" Reid asked in frustration.
"I'm not pretending, Reid. Please, just sit down. Let me get you some pain killers." He put his hand on his back again and rubbed soothingly.
Another pain shot through Reid's chest and he began to cry as he felt Morgan's kind touch on his back.
"Come on, Reid. Come and sit down." Morgan said softly. He put his arm around him and guided him towards the couch. Reid let him. He helped him to sit down and Reid cried out in pain again, his cracked ribs were throbbing. He panted for air as he tipped his head back onto the couch, tears running down his face. Morgan quickly headed to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and some painkillers. They were already on the side from when he'd had some earlier. He frowned sadly when he saw that all he was on was Tylenol and Advil. He brought himself back to the couch and sat down next to him. He took his hand and gave him the tablets. "Here. Take these." Reid took them, accepting the water offered by Morgan. His hand was shaking as he did, then he rested his head back into the couch again. "God, I am so, so sorry." Morgan said, taking in the pained mess that was his friend. He had really done a number on him.
"I know. You've said." Reid spoke through gritted teeth.
Morgan sat for a few minutes, watching as Reid breathed his way through the aches in his ribs. Every shudder and spasm cut him deep. He felt like he was beating him all over again.
Eventually Reid lifted his head back up, his face was streaked with tears and his skin was blotchy with the stress and anxiety. Morgan put his hand to his uninjured shoulder.
"I'm okay." He said quickly: an instruction for Morgan to move his hand.
Morgan took a deep breath and pulled his hand back. "I tried to resign. But Hotch wouldn't let me... he wanted to fire me. But he said you wouldn't let him." Reid dropped his gaze. "Why would do that?" Morgan asked, genuinely confused. He's not sure he would be able to do the same in Reid's position.
Reid sighed. "I'm not stupid enough to think this would have happened without Buford. With everything he has done, everything he is guilty of, I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of pulling your life apart too."
Morgan frowned thoughtfully and nodded. "Thank you." He said awkwardly. "I really don't deserve that."
"I never said you do."
"No... no, of course." Morgan said sheepishly. "Reid, you really don't have to do this. I understand if you never want to be around me again. I want to make it up to you and I will do everything I possibly can to do that, but working together... man, I don't expect you to do that."
"I am perfectly capable of being professional with people I'm not friends with."
Morgan felt a stab in his heart. "Okay." He said quietly. "Understood."
They sat in silence for a short while.
"I'd like you to go now please."
Morgan closed his eyes and nodded. Tears crept from his eyes again. "Okay." He reluctantly stood. "I am truly sorry." He said one last time. Reid didn't react. His walls were up.
Morgan sighed and moved towards the door, he stopped for a moment taking in Reid's destroyed PhD certificates on the side table. "I'm sorry." He whispered to himself then opened the door and left.
Tje second the door closed, Reid felt the tension in his body release and he broke down instantly. He rested his head onto the couch and cried.