Work Text:
You’re terrified of messing up on the job, There’s no two ways about it. You’re scared that you’ll lose an unsub, miss a key detail in the profile, let a victim die when you could save them. So, you throw yourself into your job. You go for runs, you go to the gym, and you pour your mind over the facts and possible theories for the case. You give the best first impression you can, and if you were to ask your boss what he thought of you, ‘determined’ would certainly be at the top of his list.
Everyone admires you, everyone wants to be like you…
…but only one notices something’s wrong.
Derek knows the feeling; pushing yourself to the absolute limit to try and impress your superiors and come off as the perfect role for the job. He learned very quickly that leads to extreme burnout, destroying physical and mental health. He’s seen it many times while working as an agent, and he notices it in you. He can see the way you force your eyes open, refusing to let yourself sleep so you can finish paperwork in the office. He can see the way you wince after a long unsub chase, yet brush off any help.
And today is no different.
“Kid,” he calls, making you turn and look at him, “you alright?”
You nod, ignoring the strain in your shoulder. “I’m fine, yeah.”
He isn’t convinced but it’s clear that if he pushes you to talk any further, you will catch on to what he’s doing and instead close off more. So, he keeps his mouth shut all the way to the airport, and waiting for boarding, until you’re flying home. It’s late, and many of them are asleep, except for Hotch, who’s doing paperwork, you, who’s staring out of the window, and Derek, who’s watching you like an eagle. He makes a move, taking a seat opposite you in the booth.
“What’s wrong?” He asks. You seemingly snap from his daze and look at Morgan.
“Hm?”
“I asked what’s wrong. You’ve been rubbing your shoulder and wincing since we caught Stephen. Are you alright?” Derek’s gone from a friend to a worried older brother in a matter of two seconds. You sigh and shake your head.
“I’m fine Derek. Don’t worry,” you try to brush him off, shifting in your seat. A telltale sign of lying…
“I don’t think you are. I think you’re going to burn yourself out, and you’re hiding your injuries so you don’t seem weak or like a burden,” he explains. Well shit, he’s hit the nail on the head. You look down, scratching the back of your neck. “You aren’t a burden, kid. We care about you. I care about you. You’re like a younger sibling to me.” You smile a little at this. “So, what’s wrong?”
You sigh. “It’s…my shoulder. It’s been hurting ever since I grabbed Stephen. My leg hurts too,” you admit, not looking Derek in the eye. You can't—you don’t want to admit that you’re in pain, that you might need some time off. Derek shakes his head with a smile.
“Alright. It’s fine. I’ll take you home tonight and to the doctor tomorrow,” he concludes. Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head.
“No, it’s fine. You really don’t need to-” Morgan cuts you off.
“I know I don’t, but I want to. You’ve been so strong and pushed through, but you can’t carry on like this. You must know that.”
You nod, rubbing your eyes and leaning back in the seat. It’s only just hit you how tired you actually are. You’ve worked almost non-stop for almost two months, and it’s killing you. Only as you accept this does Derek see the true pain you’re in. He leans forward.
“Okay, scratch the earlier plan. You’re staying with me tonight, and no, you don’t get a say in this, and I’m taking you to the doctor tomorrow,” he orders and at this point, you’re too tired to argue. You simply nod, curling in on yourself and leaning into the material of the sofa seat. Derek smiles and gets up, stretching slightly before going to his bag. He pulls out a blanket and opens it, draping it over you.
That’s when it hits him.
This is the most peaceful he’s seen you since you met.
“They’re a good kid, y'know?” Hotch starts, making Derek jump slightly. “They just need to know when to stop.”
Derek nods, letting out a sigh and sitting down, keeping a watchful eye over you.
—•—
“Y/N? C'mon kid, we’re going to the doctor.”
Your eyes flutterer open at the sound of someone’s voice—Derek’s. And you aren’t on the jet, you’re in a bed in a room you haven’t seen before. You sit up, rubbing sleep from your eyes and looking around.
“Where…?” You trail off.
“My house. You fell asleep on the jet and I carried you to the car and here.” Derek seems pleased with himself when he says this. “You’re really light kid. How’s your shoulder and legs?”
You feel around, checking the pain as you put weight on each limb. “My shoulder’s achey and my legs are killing me,” you groan. You’re still in the same clothes from yesterday; a t-shirt and black trousers. Your trainers are by the door to the room, and your hoodie is hanging off the bedpost.
“Do you think you can walk?” Derek’s tone has switched from joking to concern in a split second. “I don’t mind if I have to-”
“No, I can walk. Let’s go.”
An agonising walk down the stairs and to the car later, you two are on your way to the local practice to see a doctor, one who specialises in sports injuries. You wait in the waiting room, and when you’re called, Derek supports you and helps you into the examination room.
“What seems to be the problem?” The doctor asks, loading her computer up to a blank notes box. You sigh and play with your hands.
“I think I’ve overstrained my shoulder, and my legs hurt whenever I put weight on them,” you explain and the doctor nods, typing these in.
“Okay. Are you comfortable taking your shirt off so I can see the shoulder?” She asks. You nod and manage to get it off, letting her prod and manipulate your arm to pinpoint the pain. After, she does the same with your legs (thankfully, you didn’t have to take your trousers off) before heading to her desk and opening a drawer, pulling out a roll of KT tape.
“Okay. Your shoulder was overexerted, either from grabbing something that was moving quickly or throwing something too hard. Does that ring any bells?” You nod, thinking over your chase with the unsub. “And you have a case of shin splints. Completely treatable, but they’re going to be a pain for a few days I’m afraid.” She holds up the roll of tape. “I’m going to tape them up so it’s more comfortable for you to walk, but in your field, I advise you don’t do anything extreme for the next few weeks.”
You nod wordlessly, letting her do her job, filling out some more paperwork, and then leaving to the waiting room and meeting Derek again.
“I told you,” he says in a light sing-song voice, a smile playing at his lips. You roll your eyes, nudging him with your good shoulder.
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” you laugh as you get back in the car. “How’d you even know? I mean, I’ve pushed this shit down for months.”
Derek laughs. “I just know, kid.” He starts driving. “And for future reference, don’t hide it. Let us help.”
You nod and lean back. You definitely aren’t going to hide this anymore.