Work Text:
Of Innocence and Empathy: To Let the World Rest
by Frogg
It wasn't unusual for one of them to have trouble sleeping after a case, particularly on the plane ride home.
It really wasn't, Morgan told himself as he watched Reid surreptitiously over the top of his book.
Reid sighed deeply and rolled over.
Stilled.
Slow, even breathing, quiet of a body at rest.
Then slight restlessness, jerky movement of head and hands, twitching feet.
A stifled gasp, and Reid was sitting up, repositioning himself, clutching his satchel to his chest like a beloved stuffed animal leftover from childhood.
The first time it'd happened, Gideon had offered a game of chess; Reid had begged off, knowing full well he'd be soundly trounced in his state of exhaustion.
Morgan met Hotch's eyes across the cabin; Hotch merely raised one eyebrow. 'No help from that quarter,' Morgan grumbled to himself inwardly.
Insomnia wasn't unusual on the plane.
The scent of fear, though faint and sporadic, was entirely foreign.
"Reid," Morgan spoke up the next time - the fifth time - Reid tried to get comfortable in the cramped two-person seat.
Glazed eyes met his, a shadow of terror in the hazel orbs.
"C'mere." Morgan patted the long couch he sat on, scooting himself to the galley end to leave the rest for Reid's lanky frame.
Reid just stared at him blankly.
Morgan patted the couch next to him again, and was gratified to see Reid's eyes focus somewhat.
Reid swallowed, sitting up in his seat. 'Can I--?' his eyes pleaded.
Quirking his lips in a half-smile, Morgan tilted his head in acknowledgement. 'Get *over* here,' he tried to put in his own eyes.
Wobbling unsteadily, as if his joints weren't properly connected, Reid got to his feet and stumbled the ten feet or so across the cabin, reaching out to lean on the back of the couch, hand against the cold metal wall of the plane.
"Here," Morgan whispered, putting his book aside, taking Reid's satchel from him and setting it on the floor at his feet. Then, hands gentle, he reached up, guiding Reid's trembling body to the couch, supporting him as he tipped over sideways, knees bent, toes hanging off the end. One dark hand combed through light brown hair, easing Reid's head to a denim-covered thigh. "Better?"
Reid nodded, chafing his cheek on the rough cloth. "Thanks," he whispered, the s drawing out into a hiss as sleep overcame him.
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