Work Text:
"Reid!"
Nothing in that moment could've prevented the frying pan slamming into the back of Reid's head. The young man's body was limp in an instant, the hit very hard and effectively trapping him into unconsciousness. Morgan had simply turned too late. The unsub, Marcus Richardson, was too good at sneaking up on people - even trained FBI agents.
Morgan may have been too late to stop Reid from being knocked out, but he was not too late to pull his gun on Marcus. They had been talking to the man, the father of the victim. Turns out, Richardson was not a grieving parent but rather the murderer of his own son and hunting his ex-wife. Blunt force trauma to the head, then stabbing the child's neck.
Reid being knocked out was much too close to Richardson's M.O. for Morgan's liking. Not only that but now Richardson had clicked out a pocket knife and held it to Reid's throat. His head lolled forward, unaware of the danger he was in at the very moment.
"Put the knife down, Mr Richardson," Morgan instructed firmly, his eyes glued to the weapon so close to taking his best friends life. He didn't gamble when it came to the lives of innocent people and his teammates.
"Slide the gun here or I kill him right here and now. Even if you shoot me, I'll be able to stab him good and well."
Morgan fought to stay calm. He could no longer keep count of how many times Reid had found himself in a life or death situation, even considering the job they dedicated their lives to. He watched worriedly as Reid's head wound kept bleeding, soaking his white button-up and maroon sweater vest. His hair was stained with the crimson liquid and Morgan wanted nothing more than to check that his friend would be alright.
Morgan kept his gun trained on the unsub, debating whether or not his words were true. Reid's body was mostly blocking Richardson's, which was a risky shot altogether. There was a high chance of hitting his friend, something that Morgan wasn't willing to do. His thoughts were interrupted at the sight of Richardson threateningly poking Reid's neck lightly with the knife, nicking his skin and drawing a small trail of blood.
With that, Morgan could do nothing but comply. He slowly lowered his weapon, placing it on the floor before flicking it over to the unsub. He stood again, arms up in surrender. "Let him go. He's an FBI agent and killing him won't do you any good."
Reid was still limp and at the unsubs mercy. "You're going to get me out of here. If you give me your car, I'll let him go."
Morgan knew the profile. This guy wasn't the type to let go of Reid without killing him first. He just prayed that Hotch and the team would ram through the door any second. They needed backup, and soon. Reid was much better at talking someone down than he was, yet the brunette wouldn't be of assistance when he was bleeding out and in the hands of a murderer.
"Did he see the blow coming?" Morgan asked, his voice suddenly much calmer. Talking an UnSub down may not have been his best skill but he was willing to try. "Dylan. Did Dylan see the pan before it hit him?"
Dylan Richardson, the 15-year-old son of this madman. Morgan had always hated when kids were the victims, but being killed by your own father was just so very wrong.
"I-I...what?" Richardson stuttered out, obviously surprised by the question.
"Did Dylan see it coming? Did he know what you'd do?"
Richardson seemed to gather his thoughts and channel them back to rage, his words spat like they were poison in his mouth. "He was sleeping."
"Did he know what you were capable of?" Morgan said, thinking carefully about his choice of words. He didn't even know where he was going with it. In a way, it was just to stall for time.
"He wanted to be with that bitch over me," Richardson seethed. "She brainwashed him! She made him hate me! I'm his father!"
"You want her to suffer," the dark agent stated simply. Some unsubs had insane logic, yet Morgan was beginning to see the way Richardson was seeing things. "Why did you kill Dylan if you loved him?"
His words were starting to cause Richardson panic. It was as if the realisation of what he had done was only just hitting him. Still, he grasped at straws to justify his actions. "He couldn't be persuaded! You don't get it, he didn't want to know me anymore! Pl-plus...then if he...if he died then she would have to feel the pain of his death!"
Morgan's hands were still raised, but he was sensing that the man before him would soon crack and it could mean bad things for his partner. He was growing more and more concerned as the younger man's eyes hadn't even fluttered yet. Frying pans could be deadly weapons and Morgan couldn't even see clearly if Reid was breathing or not. He needed to diffuse the situation, even though he may have stirred it up in the first place. Either way, he had stalled as long as he could.
"You couldn't have him so nobody could," Morgan said quietly, summing up the entire situation. Once you stripped the guilt, misplaced anger, hatred and rage, you were left with the cold hard truth.
Richardson visibly shuddered. His grip on the knife loosened until he dropped it to the floor. Morgan didn't have time to move as their unsub grabbed his gun that he had slid over and brought it to his head, pulling the trigger with ease. Morgan stood, slightly stunned but overall thankful that Reid was no longer in immediate danger.
After processing the scene, he quickly ran to the mess of his coworker and their unsub. He grabbed onto Reid and gently scooped him up, moving him away from Richardson, who was bleeding all over the floor from the gunshot wound that he had inflicted upon himself.
Morgan placed Reid down, propping him up against the wall. His limbs were still unmoving. He checked for a pulse, holding his breath as he focused all his attention to whether Reid was alive.
Thump...thump...thump...
A sigh of relief escaped through his lips before he sprung into action, slipping his cell out of his pocket and calling for medical. He then called his boss, who announced that he was on his way.
Morgan took off his leather jacket and bunched it up, holding it to the deep gash in his friends head, which was still bleeding. He remembered something about how head wounds bled a lot, the information he had been reminded of by the man he was trying to save in the moment.
"Come on pretty boy, you can pull through this."
————
The wait at the hospital was agonising.
The others were in the waiting room, yet he had to step outside. He had answered Hotch's questions about what had happened briefly but had been in a hurry to get away. Of course, he wouldn't leave. Yet the image of Reid's unconscious form bleeding seemingly endlessly was burnt into his brain.
He wondered how Reid dealt with an eidetic memory on this job.
It wasn't the first time that Reid had been hurt. There was the anthrax incident, being shot in the knee and of course his abduction at the hands of Tobias Hankle. Each time he was hurt, it made Morgan wish he was better. He knew that he was protective of the younger man, maybe because he saw him as the little brother he didn't have. It was no secret that the BAU of the FBI were one big family.
Morgan clenched his teeth. The cool wind bit at his bare arms, the lack of his jacket not his concern at all. Sure, it was just a hit to the head. A really hard hit to the head.
"My chocolate thunder?"
He turned at the familiar voice of Garcia, the positive kick in her tone wasn't there. He felt his heart drop, scared that his pretty boy wasn't okay.
He looked at her wordlessly. Instead of the frown he had expected on her usually smiling face, he saw a look of hope.
She shuffled closer to him, her shoes clicking on the ground loudly and leaving him wondering briefly how he hadn't heard her presence before. "Boy wonder's awake, he's asking for you."
Morgan had never felt such relief.
He nodded, his worry melting away more and more with each step he took closer to his little brothers' hospital room.
He stopped at the door, seeing JJ kissing Reid's cheek before looking up and leaving the room, a knowing smile on her face. He slowly entered, letting his lips quirk slightly when he saw clearly that Reid was awake. Despite the bandage wrapped around his head, he looked fine. The blood had been cleaned away, leaving him clean and patched up nicely.
"How you feeling?" Morgan asked as he came over to sink himself into the chair beside the bed.
"Like I was hit with a frying pan," Reid said, chuckling slightly. "Did you know that head wounds bleed more than-"
"Yeah, kid. You've told me that one before." Morgan shook his head. The kid was okay, he was alive. That was all that mattered.
"What happened in there? Heard you saved my life," Reid said, his eyes gleaming with his usual curiosity.
"I wouldn't call it that, but try not to get knocked out again, yeah?" Morgan said, attempting to lighten the situation and not get into details just yet. Reid may have been unaware, but Morgan hadn't.
Reid stayed silent for a few seconds before speaking again. "Morgan?"
"Yeah, kid?"
"Thank you. I really mean it...thank you."