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Part 43 of Of Innocence and Empathy
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-05
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Of Innocence and Empathy: God's Will in Earnest

Summary:

Series: Of Innocence and Empathy
Beta: None
Rating: uh. Okay for teens?
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Damnit.
Challenge: 50episodes – Criminal Minds, Morgan/Reid
Table: 2
Prompt: 21. Flame
Word Count: 1067
Author's Note: Spoilers for Revelations.

Work Text:

 

Of Innocence and Empathy: God's Will in Earnest
by Frogg

 

Emily sighed, staring at the legal pad in front of her. The list of names didn't trigger any more. She probably wasn't the best person for this job, but JJ and Garcia were turning one of the spare bedrooms into a version of Garcia's bunker at the office, Hotch and Gideon were both making phone calls, and Morgan was in the backyard with Clooney, trying to calm down. Reid --

-- slid a bottle of beer across the table to her. Starting a little, she barely dropped her pen in time to catch the bottle and keep it from tipping off the edge, spilling beer all over the carpet. "Thanks," she managed, picking up the drink and saluting Reid with it.

"You're welcome," he answered. "Getting anywhere?"

"I feel like I'm beating my head against a brick wall," she answered, frowning at the list she'd made as if it were at fault.

"Hey, it's just a starting point. No one expects you to be perfect." He smiled and shrugged. "Besides, you already took the first step. None of us are ever going to forget that."

"What, that I'm playing my future against my past? Hotch is innocent. I owe him, I haven't trusted him enough to believe in him." Emily shook her head. "I don't know why you put up with me for this long."

Reid took a practiced swallow from his own bottle before answering. "Why? I mean, yeah, it was rough those first few months, but you've been with us over a year and a half. If Hotch or Gideon had a problem with you on the team, you wouldn't be here anymore."

Emily shook her head. "That's not what I mean."

Reid just raised an eyebrow and tipped his beer bottle back again, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I wanted this job, so much that I...I was willing to do whatever I had to to keep it. I know I made things...hard for you, in particular." Pausing, she took a deep breath, steadying herself. Thankfully, Reid didn't interrupt. "I'm trying to apologize."

"And I'm trying to tell you that's not necessary." Reid shrugged. "It takes two, and it's not like I didn't know what was going on. No, I wasn't happy with it, but I knew my worth to the team. You didn't."

"But--"

"If it makes that much difference to you, I accept your apology."

Emily couldn't answer, just opened and closed her mouth several times. "You make my brain hurt," she finally said.

Reid laughed. "Emily, I know the rest of the team treats me as if I can't fight my way out of a wet paper bag, but really, I'm not helpless."

"No, you aren't, that's for sure." And she took a huge gulp of beer. Taking one last look down at the list of names, she scowled and tossed it to the end of the table. "I can't get anywhere else with that."

"So? We'll give it to Gideon or Hotch when they've got a free minute."

They sat in silence then, comfortable, companionable, intimately aware of the tenuous, growing bond of trust and friendship that the night had forged. Emily had wanted it too much before, tried too hard to get it, tried to protect herself.

"I know...I don't really have the right, but do you mind if I ask a question? Something's been bugging me for a long time." She took another quick swig of beer, wiping her chin where it splashed. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Ask." Reid's eyes were too bright, too...just plain happy, for what seemed to be the eve of the Apocalypse.

"When...when Tobias had that gun pointed at you, and you were trying not to get one of us killed..."

Reid's entire body had tensed at the mention of Tobias' name; Emily couldn't miss the flinch, the sudden wildness in his eyes.

"Reid?"

He shook his head, forcing his muscles loose enough to finish the bottle of beer in one long swallow. "Go on, s-sorry."

"How could you play the odds like that? Were you just trying to buy time to think of what to tell him? He could have killed you." Emily shuddered, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her shoulders.

"P-part of me wanted him to," Reid said, his voice tiny, meek. The way he'd spoken after he'd been rescued. "Part of me j-just did, didn't care."

Emily swallowed hard against the knot of guilt in her throat, unable to answer.

Then Reid shook himself, faded remnants of trauma sliding away as he got to his feet, picking up the empty beer bottle to take back to the kitchen. "I'm gonna go get another beer. You want anything?"

Shocked to her bones, terrified for Reid, for herself, for the team who'd become Reid's family, Emily heard her own voice from a distance. "Whiskey, please."

"Sure." And then he was gone, easy footsteps sounding against the hardwood floor.

Reid had been suicidal.

The statement whirled round and round inside her skull.

Then, dully, other thoughts injected themselves.

Hotch didn't know. Gideon didn't know.

Morgan didn't know, either.

Why would he tell me?

A hand caught in her hair, pulling tight against the scalp. Her own, she vaguely recognized, trying in vain to come to terms with this new information.

Why would he tell me? she asked herself again.

Because I'm not close enough to them to be able to break his confidence.

Because he's testing me.

There were footsteps coming back, coming closer, and she pried her fingers out of her hair, smoothing it down.

Why would he be suicidal?

Emily wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that question; she knew it was probably why Reid had gone for more liquor, to prevent her from asking.

"Here," Reid said, his once too-bright eyes now shadowed as he set the shot glass in front of her.

Nodding in thanks, she set her nearly empty bottle down in favor of instant drunk. After the beers she'd had, it would only take this shot, maybe one more, and she'd be out for the night.

Please, God, please, let it just be this one.

Shutting her eyes against the images assaulting her, against the coming burn of alcohol, she lifted the glass and slammed it back. Liquid fire slid down her throat, down her chin in thin rivulets.

 

~~~the end~~~

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