Title: Nerve
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Rating: PG
Summary: Morgan takes a bullet for Reid. Reid is tired of being treated like a kid.
Words: 1,100-ish
Prompt: Nerve, from the random word generator (http://watchout4snakes.com/creativityt
Notes: Much thanks to my wonderful betas![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif)
mnemosyne_1 and innerslytherin, the latter of which is to blame for all of this. :P
The shot rang through the vale and Reid hit the ground hard, gasping as pain shot through his shoulder and chest and blood spattered his face. One hundred and ninety pounds of ex-football player forced the air from his lungs as Morgan landed on top of him a second later. It had happened in the blink of an eye, but there was no time to worry about pain. Reid dragged in a breath as best he could and pushed himself up over Morgan, his hand fumbling on Morgan's chest to aim his gun at the unsub.
Too late. The unsub ducked behind the brush at the far end of the river bed, disappearing. Morgan shifted under Reid, stifling a pained noise, and Reid realized that Morgan hadn't made a move since he'd hit the ground. Reid glanced down at him, forgetting the throbbing pain in his arm as he realized the blood on him was not his own.
The team found a new body the next day. Reid didn't leave the hospital. Prentiss sent a picture of the lotus pattern carved on the victim's chest to Reid's phone. Reid informed her that it was a symbol of the sun, of creation and rebirth, and that the more intricate nature of this design, as opposed to the ankh carved into the last victim, would seem to indicate that the unsub was spending more time with the unwed mothers he was taking, not less. He recited by rote what this particular flower meant to Egyptian culture, but he wasn't really listening to himself talk. He was listening to the steady - blessedly steady - beeping of the machines hooked to Morgan.
Sometime later, Hotch's soft voice cut through the daze Reid had been in. "Why don't you go back to the hotel? Get some sleep."
Reid jerked his head up, staring blearily at Hotch and wondering how long Hotch had been here, then shook his head. Reid's arm may have been in a sling, but Morgan wasn't even awake. He hadn't been awake since the ambulance had arrived at the scene. Reid wasn't leaving.
"There's nothing you can do here."
Reid knew it was true, but Morgan had taken a bullet for him. Reid knew that Morgan probably would have done it for anyone on the team, but still... "He wasn't wearing a vest," Reid said, finishing his thought out loud, his lips thinning as he looked up at Hotch from where he was slumped in his chair. Hotch didn't say anything and Reid looked away. "I was. I was wearing one, and..."
When Reid glanced back up, Hotch was looking at him with a knowing expression on his face. Reid's brows drew together. "What?"
Hotch just stared at him for a moment, his expression unchanging, then glanced at Morgan. He drew the back of his thumb across his brow, scratching lightly with his knuckle, and then he looked back at Reid. "If you won't go to the hotel, at least get some sleep here. We need you alert, even if you're not out in the field."
Reid wanted to ask again what that expression had meant, but it seemed inconsequential with Morgan's machines beeping away just a few feet from Reid. After a moment, he nodded, and then Hotch was gone.
It took some time, but Reid eventually convinced himself that even if he slept he would hear any change in Morgan's condition, considering he wouldn't leave the room except when the hospital staff required him to. The next two days blurred together. The team came and went as often as they could while the "Mummy Killer" (the details of the case had leaked and the press had latched onto them) continued his spree.
It was early in the morning on the third day that Reid was awakened from his sleep unexpectedly.
Genius boy...
He was dreaming. He had to be.
Reid's eyes flew open and he blinked hard, trying to clear the haze in his vision, then looked at Morgan. Morgan's eyes were open, and a faint smile was curling his lips. Reid had to wonder how long Morgan had been awake.
"Tell me we got him," Morgan murmured, and even though his voice was weak, his usual confidence still came through.
Reid stood fast and walked over to the bed. "No," he said, but a smile bloomed on his face anyway.
Morgan expelled a breath, closing his eyes, and his smile slid into a look of disappointment. "He was right there."
"You got shot," Reid countered, and Morgan shifted, wincing slightly, and then nodded. When Morgan didn't say anything else, Reid did. "You dislocated my shoulder."
Morgan expelled a breath, a small laugh, and Reid was glad to see him smiling again, even if it was weak.
"I take a bullet for you, and you're complaining."
"You didn't have to do that," Reid countered, everything that had been swimming around in his head suddenly bubbling up to the surface. "I'm not still a kid, Morgan."
Morgan frowned a bit. "I know--"
"No, I don't think you do," Reid said quickly. "You're always doing this, always pushing me out of the way like I can't handle myself. I could have taken that shot."
Morgan stared at him for a moment, and then started to laugh softly. Reid frowned, never having quite grown out of the way he closed up whenever he sensed someone might be laughing at him.
"You know, for a genius, you really are an idiot sometimes."
Reid's frown deepened. "Yeah, thanks." He started to walk away, but stopped when Morgan spoke again.
"You really think that's the reason," Morgan said, his tone half questioning and half disbelieving, though the smile didn't slip off his face.
Reid pursed his lips.
"Come'ere, pretty boy."
"What?" Reid asked quickly, his body tight and still ready to be on the defensive.
"Come'ere," Morgan repeated.
"What?"
Morgan lifted his hand, wincing a little a little through his smile, then crooked a finger in invitation. "I want to tell you something."
Reid glanced around. "Tell me."
"Come here," Morgan insisted.
"Morgan."
Morgan fixed him with a look.
Reid hesitated, then sighed and leaned over Morgan, wondering why Morgan couldn't just tell him, why he apparently had to whisper it. They were alone, after all.
He sucked in a breath when Morgan's fingers curled in the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, and when their lips met, Reid's eyes flew open wide. He gasped, and then Morgan's tongue slid over his lip and Reid's eyes fluttered shut. He whimpered automatically and mimicked Morgan's movements.
When Morgan finally released him, Reid's knuckles were white on the edge of the hospital bed, his face flushed and eyes wild. Morgan seemed genuinely pleased at the expression on Reid's face.
"Got it yet, beautiful boy?" Morgan murmured.
The understanding hit Reid all at once, a sudden clarity, and he swallowed hard before nodding and kissing Morgan again.
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Rating: PG
Summary: Morgan takes a bullet for Reid. Reid is tired of being treated like a kid.
Words: 1,100-ish
Prompt: Nerve, from the random word generator (http://watchout4snakes.com/creativityt
Notes: Much thanks to my wonderful betas
mnemosyne_1 and innerslytherin, the latter of which is to blame for all of this. :PThe shot rang through the vale and Reid hit the ground hard, gasping as pain shot through his shoulder and chest and blood spattered his face. One hundred and ninety pounds of ex-football player forced the air from his lungs as Morgan landed on top of him a second later. It had happened in the blink of an eye, but there was no time to worry about pain. Reid dragged in a breath as best he could and pushed himself up over Morgan, his hand fumbling on Morgan's chest to aim his gun at the unsub.
Too late. The unsub ducked behind the brush at the far end of the river bed, disappearing. Morgan shifted under Reid, stifling a pained noise, and Reid realized that Morgan hadn't made a move since he'd hit the ground. Reid glanced down at him, forgetting the throbbing pain in his arm as he realized the blood on him was not his own.
The team found a new body the next day. Reid didn't leave the hospital. Prentiss sent a picture of the lotus pattern carved on the victim's chest to Reid's phone. Reid informed her that it was a symbol of the sun, of creation and rebirth, and that the more intricate nature of this design, as opposed to the ankh carved into the last victim, would seem to indicate that the unsub was spending more time with the unwed mothers he was taking, not less. He recited by rote what this particular flower meant to Egyptian culture, but he wasn't really listening to himself talk. He was listening to the steady - blessedly steady - beeping of the machines hooked to Morgan.
Sometime later, Hotch's soft voice cut through the daze Reid had been in. "Why don't you go back to the hotel? Get some sleep."
Reid jerked his head up, staring blearily at Hotch and wondering how long Hotch had been here, then shook his head. Reid's arm may have been in a sling, but Morgan wasn't even awake. He hadn't been awake since the ambulance had arrived at the scene. Reid wasn't leaving.
"There's nothing you can do here."
Reid knew it was true, but Morgan had taken a bullet for him. Reid knew that Morgan probably would have done it for anyone on the team, but still... "He wasn't wearing a vest," Reid said, finishing his thought out loud, his lips thinning as he looked up at Hotch from where he was slumped in his chair. Hotch didn't say anything and Reid looked away. "I was. I was wearing one, and..."
When Reid glanced back up, Hotch was looking at him with a knowing expression on his face. Reid's brows drew together. "What?"
Hotch just stared at him for a moment, his expression unchanging, then glanced at Morgan. He drew the back of his thumb across his brow, scratching lightly with his knuckle, and then he looked back at Reid. "If you won't go to the hotel, at least get some sleep here. We need you alert, even if you're not out in the field."
Reid wanted to ask again what that expression had meant, but it seemed inconsequential with Morgan's machines beeping away just a few feet from Reid. After a moment, he nodded, and then Hotch was gone.
It took some time, but Reid eventually convinced himself that even if he slept he would hear any change in Morgan's condition, considering he wouldn't leave the room except when the hospital staff required him to. The next two days blurred together. The team came and went as often as they could while the "Mummy Killer" (the details of the case had leaked and the press had latched onto them) continued his spree.
It was early in the morning on the third day that Reid was awakened from his sleep unexpectedly.
Genius boy...
He was dreaming. He had to be.
Reid's eyes flew open and he blinked hard, trying to clear the haze in his vision, then looked at Morgan. Morgan's eyes were open, and a faint smile was curling his lips. Reid had to wonder how long Morgan had been awake.
"Tell me we got him," Morgan murmured, and even though his voice was weak, his usual confidence still came through.
Reid stood fast and walked over to the bed. "No," he said, but a smile bloomed on his face anyway.
Morgan expelled a breath, closing his eyes, and his smile slid into a look of disappointment. "He was right there."
"You got shot," Reid countered, and Morgan shifted, wincing slightly, and then nodded. When Morgan didn't say anything else, Reid did. "You dislocated my shoulder."
Morgan expelled a breath, a small laugh, and Reid was glad to see him smiling again, even if it was weak.
"I take a bullet for you, and you're complaining."
"You didn't have to do that," Reid countered, everything that had been swimming around in his head suddenly bubbling up to the surface. "I'm not still a kid, Morgan."
Morgan frowned a bit. "I know--"
"No, I don't think you do," Reid said quickly. "You're always doing this, always pushing me out of the way like I can't handle myself. I could have taken that shot."
Morgan stared at him for a moment, and then started to laugh softly. Reid frowned, never having quite grown out of the way he closed up whenever he sensed someone might be laughing at him.
"You know, for a genius, you really are an idiot sometimes."
Reid's frown deepened. "Yeah, thanks." He started to walk away, but stopped when Morgan spoke again.
"You really think that's the reason," Morgan said, his tone half questioning and half disbelieving, though the smile didn't slip off his face.
Reid pursed his lips.
"Come'ere, pretty boy."
"What?" Reid asked quickly, his body tight and still ready to be on the defensive.
"Come'ere," Morgan repeated.
"What?"
Morgan lifted his hand, wincing a little a little through his smile, then crooked a finger in invitation. "I want to tell you something."
Reid glanced around. "Tell me."
"Come here," Morgan insisted.
"Morgan."
Morgan fixed him with a look.
Reid hesitated, then sighed and leaned over Morgan, wondering why Morgan couldn't just tell him, why he apparently had to whisper it. They were alone, after all.
He sucked in a breath when Morgan's fingers curled in the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, and when their lips met, Reid's eyes flew open wide. He gasped, and then Morgan's tongue slid over his lip and Reid's eyes fluttered shut. He whimpered automatically and mimicked Morgan's movements.
When Morgan finally released him, Reid's knuckles were white on the edge of the hospital bed, his face flushed and eyes wild. Morgan seemed genuinely pleased at the expression on Reid's face.
"Got it yet, beautiful boy?" Morgan murmured.
The understanding hit Reid all at once, a sudden clarity, and he swallowed hard before nodding and kissing Morgan again.
