Chapter Text
Derek is fully expecting a dressing down from Penelope when he gets back to the station. To be fair, this one might even be warranted (and he’s hoping no one ever tells Mama Morgan that he got into an ambulance with a bomb inside and then drove it into a pond, because he suspects he will never hear the end of that one).
But when he gets there, he’s expecting only Penelope.
He’s not expecting Reid to be standing next to her, looking like he’s about to spit feathers.
“Der- Morgan, what the hell were you thinking?”
Oh.
“I was thinking there was a bomb in a hospital, and someone needed to get it the hell outta there.”
Penelope splutters. “And that means that has to be you? One of these days, Derek, I swear to God-”
“The more life-risking events one is in, the higher their risk of mortality.” Derek turns to Spencer fully prepared to tell him that he’s pointing out the obvious, but the look on his face makes him stop. His eyes are dark, and a little watery. When he speaks again, Spencer’s voice almost cracks “Do you not realize that eventually you’re gonna lose this game? You can't keep cheating death, Morgan. No-one can.”
He doesn’t get a chance to respond because Penelope throws her arms around him and he’s enveloped in her sweet, bubblegum perfume. “I- I mean we are so mad at you, Derek Morgan, but God I am so glad you’re okay.”
He comforts Penelope, wrapping his arms around her and letting her soak his shoulder. He looks at Spencer over her shoulder, and he’s about to try and usher him over as well, but Reid pretends not to see and walks off, acting like there’s somewhere else he desperately needs to be.
Derek tells himself that it’s just that Spencer’s worried about JJ, and leans into Penelope, taking in the way she feels in his arms and feeling the adrenaline ebb out of his body.
When it finally does, his shoulder thoroughly soaked by Penelope’s tears, he goes to talk to Rossi - because they’ve practically forced Hotch back into the hospital - but the first person he runs across is Reid.
Almost literally, because he’s sitting on the floor just outside the door, curled in on himself like a little kid. He’s seen Reid in some states before, but the floor is definitely one of the last places he’d expect to find him. Even he wouldn’t trust the cleanliness of the floor in a cop shop. And there’s no way he’s comfortable down there on the tiles.
“Reid?” When he doesn’t respond, he says it again. “Reid.” Still no response. “Spencer.”
He moves like he’s been jerked awake, but Derek grabs his shoulder and keeps him from toppling over. “You good, man?”
Reid scrubs his face and blinks a couple times. “Uh, yeah, yeah. Just tired I guess.” He stands up, and Derek holds him under his elbow to be sure that he doesn’t go back down like a sack of potatoes. Spencer shrugs him off, goes to walk away again, but Derek grabs him.
“Hold on pretty boy. Talk to me.”
“About what?”
Derek manages to keep from rolling his eyes. Barely. “You know what. You’re upset because I did something reckless-”
“And impulsive, and stupid, and dangerous-”
“Okay, I got it, I got it. I scared you, and I’m sorry.”
“F-for what? For doing your job?”
“No, for being reckless, and impulsive, and stupid.” Reid smirks, just the tiniest bit, and Derek pulls him into a side hug, ruffling his hair in the process. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I told Garcia the same thing. I’ll try not to jump into any more vehicles with bombs in them.”
“I’d say I’d hope it wouldn’t happen again, but with our line of work, who knows?” The joke is weak, and Reid shrugs out from under Derek’s arm and turns to face him. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna go and check on JJ, see if she’s okay. I can’t imagine how she’s feeling right now, what with…everything.”
“Yeah, course, man. You go do that. And next time you’ve got an issue, don’t just shut me out, okay? Even if it’s with me.”
“I’ll, uh, I'll try.”
He smiles, and walks off, and Derek’s heart thumps strangely in his chest.
Derek’s the one who picks Hotch up from the hospital, much to the surprise of Agent Davis, who, after the initial shock, smiles and thanks him because it means she can now go to her daughter’s ballet recital.
Even when New York City’s almost been blown up, the world keeps turning.
There's always another ballet recital, or a football game.
The look on Hotch’s face as he walks out of the hospital doors is, frankly, ridiculous - he’s never seen a frown look so confused before.
“I'm your ride.” He takes Hotch’s bag from him before he can protest.
Hotch’s frown deepens. “I thought Agent Davis was driving me.”
“She was. I had her reassigned.”
“Don't you have something better to do?”
He scoffs. “Than to annoy you for three hours? Hell no.”
“Give me the keys.”
“Not a chance, Hotch. Let's go.” They’re quiet for a moment. “So did we ever find out who the Secret Service had in the hospital?”
“Does it matter?”
Clearly, his boss is not in the mood for talking. “No, I guess it doesn't.”
He’s quiet again, and then something he really didn’t expect comes out of his boss’ mouth. “Quantico's requested you transfer to run the New York Office.”
“Hotch, they haven't even buried her yet.” Seriously?
Hotch shrugs. “We're at war. Things change.”
It’s Derek’s turn to frown. “Don't I need your recommendation?” Hotch says nothing, and then the penny drops, and Derek’s trying to work out if he should be angry. “You didn't give it, did you?”
Hotch sighs, and meets his eyes again for the first time since dropping the bomb on him. “Your actions, as incredibly brave as they were, would still be the actions of an agent who doesn't truly trust anyone.”
There’s the anger. “Hotch, I did it for this team.”
“My opinion doesn't matter. Job's yours if you want it.”
Clearly he can’t hear him, or he’s choosing not to. “Hotch. Your opinion matters to me.”
“My life matters to me, and I have and always will entrust you with it. Would you do the same for me?” Derek wants to say something, anything, but he can’t. Hotch has got him down pat, and he clearly knows, because the next thing out of his mouth is, “Still want to drive?”
In response, Derek holds the key even tighter as he throws Hotch’s bag into the backseat.
The first hour and a half of the drive is awkward, to say the least.
Derek doesn’t take his eyes off the road once, not even to turn the radio on. Hotch makes a call to Haley so he can speak to Jack, but otherwise it’s silent. He swears the man falls asleep at one point, but he doesn’t dare to look over, not even once.
It’s when they’ve been on I-95 for a while and they’re outside of Philadelphia when Hotch finally speaks again.
“They were already looking at replacing Kate before all of this happened, Morgan.”
“Hotch, you know that’s not why I’m upset.”
“I know. But I figured I owed you the whole picture. And you know it’s not that I don’t think you’re a good agent. You’re one of the best, as otherwise I wouldn’t have been giving you the extra responsibility the last few months. And we know why you don’t trust people easily. But you can’t lead a unit, let alone an office, without entrusting some of yourself to the people you’re responsible for. I mean, I sure as hell tried, and look where it got me.” Hotch looks down to the band of skin that’s still slightly lighter than the rest of his hand. “You’re a good agent, and a good leader, but you’re not a great one. Not yet, anyway.” At that moment, his phone rings again, and he picks it up, putting it against his good ear. Derek can’t help but think he shouldn’t be using it at all, but as Unit Chief, he suspects the man doesn’t have a choice.
When he’s off the phone again, he sighs. “That was Strauss. She’s starting to get pressure from the higher-ups. You’ve got twenty-four hours to decide if you want the job.” Derek looks over at him, and he knows exactly what Hotch can read there. “I know, it’s not a lot of time. But that’s what they’re offering.”
Hotch tips his head back, and pretends to be asleep.
And Derek is left alone with his own thoughts for the rest of the drive home.
He drops Hotch off at his apartment, but he doesn’t go home.
Instead, he goes to the 24-hour gym that’s just round the corner, and gets on the treadmill, music on high as he bumps the machine’s speed up higher and higher.
And now he’s burning off the excess energy, he’s able to think.
He’s wanted to head up a team for a while, knows he has because he’s chafed against Hotch’s drill-sergeant for a while.
He loves New York, always has, whenever he’s gone on a vacation there.
Desiree’s out there for work pretty often, so he’d see more of her. With two of her kids there, maybe his mom would visit more.
It really should be a no-brainer, and yet.
Well.
He’s got his team.
His baby girl. JJ. Prentiss, who’s grown on him more and more over the last year and a bit.
Reid.
Hell, he even respects Rossi now. Maybe not like, not yet, but the man’s grown on him.
All he has to ask himself is if he’s willing to give it up for a chance at his own team.
It’s after fifteen miles on the treadmill that he finally gets his answer.
“Are you sure about this?” Hotch isn’t in, still on enforced medical leave, so it's Rossi he speaks to. “It’s a big decision, moving jobs, cities, states…”
“I know, Dave. But I’ve thought it through. I think it’s the right decision.” He passes the envelope into the man's waiting hand.
“Well.” Dave stands up, putting it down, and stretches out his hand. “It’s been an honor to work with you, Agent Morgan.”
“And with you, Rossi.” He goes to leave, before turning back. “Besides, NYC's only a few hours away. Not like I can’t come back to visit, or that you guys won’t get called out to cases, is it?”
“No, you’re right. It isn’t far at all.” Rossi seems to be trying to hold something back, and then apparently fails. “But it’s a lot of responsibility, heading up a field office. Just try not to get totally lost in your work.”
“Got it, Rossi.” He thinks of the four failed marriages between him and Hotch. “And, uh, thanks.”
“You’re welcome, Morgan. Always.”
He walks out of the office, and looks over at Reid, sitting at his desk, flicking through the files and scribbling down something in them. Man, he’s gonna miss the kid.
And he’s the one who deserves to know first, after so many years working together.
So he walks over.
Spencer's sitting at his desk, finishing off one file in the ever-growing pile on his desk, when Derek comes up to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey man, you got a minute?”
He nods. “Yes, of course.” He's always got a minute for Derek.
The man smiles at him, but there's something almost…sad about it, and a knot forms in his stomach.
Nothing ever good happens when someone smiles at him like that. “Fancy grabbing a coffee at that fancy place by the subway station? I know you've finished your paperwork for the day.”
“Uh, yeah, yeah, sure.” He hasn't, but it's already getting dark out - where did the time go? - so he just grabs his coat and follows Derek out.
The walk is quiet, but not uncomfortable, but when they sit down at a table at the back, Derek placing a paper cup full of the overly-sweet latte he'd ordered, something feels…off. The table isn’t sticky, thank God, but the shiny fake leather on the seats squeaks when he sits and they’re playing some awful covers of recent popular music that they’ve obviously found for free somewhere.
But none of the matters when Derek coughs and Spencer’s attention is immediately drawn back to him. “So. I've got some news, and I didn't want you to find out from anyone else.” Derek takes a deep breath. “I got a promotion.”
“That's good news, though, isn't it?” He's already been doing extra work under Hotch, surely this is just confirming that.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, it's uh, it's great news.” Derek rubs the back of his neck, the way he always does when he's anxious. “It's just. Well. I'm going to be heading up the field office. In New York.”
Spencer's stomach drops, and he can't help but make a face before he looks down at his coffee. “That's…that's great.” He's extremely proud when his voice doesn't wobble. “I'm happy for you, man.”
There's a warm pressure on his shoulder, and when he looks up, Derek's looking at him. “Don't do that, Reid. Don't shut me out. I asked you not to, remember?" Spencer nods, because of course he does, but Derek doesn't need to be babying him right now. "I'm only gonna be a few hours away by train, and it’s an hour flight, and I'll call you all the time, I swear.”
Yeah, that's what his dad said.
Promises of showing up to parent-teacher nights, of trips to museums that never happened.
He'd called once, for Spencer’s birthday, and then he'd never heard from the man again.
Not that he'd minded.
But he nods at Derek when he says that, and acts as much as he can like he believes him.
Derek walks him back to the subway station, pulling him into a hug that feels too much like a goodbye, even though he’s not actually going anywhere for a couple more weeks.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, kid. And wish me luck - I gotta tell Garcia now, if she doesn’t already know.” His phone rings, and he looks down at the name. The way his face falls tells Spencer exactly who it is on the other end. “Crap. If I’m not in tomorrow, I’ve been strangled by our technical analyst. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Derek walks off, and Spencer goes through the turnstile to wait on the platform. It’s empty this time of evening, because everyone else has already gone back to spend time with their families.
But not Spencer.
Because for him, the BAU is the closest thing he’s got.
He schools his face until he's on the train, tucked into a corner far away from anyone else so that when he finally lets the tears fall, hoping no one will notice them.
He's just another faceless, forgotten stranger here.
He barely notices when someone sits on the seats opposite him, and he almost misses his stop because he’s lost in the cacophony of the carriages passing through tunnels. He barely makes it out of the carriage before they shut, and his hand gets caught between the closing doors. It’ll bruise, but right now Spencer can’t feel it.
He can’t feel much of anything, right now, if he’s being honest.
The tears are still falling as he walks up the steps and down his block, and they don't stop until he collapses on the couch in his apartment and falls asleep.