Work Text:
Reid was just finally dozing when the SUV pulled to a stop outside his apartment building. A large hand gently shook his shoulder, bringing him back to the present.
He hadn’t even attempted to go back to sleep after Booker’s call. Adrenaline had coursed through his body with worry being at the forefront.
The last time he had really been around his second family, they’d taken a year away from missions. Joe and Nicky had spent some time with him, touring museums and generally relaxing and enjoying the vacation. It was around the same time as when he’d been shot in the leg, which he finally could stop faking the injury. His weeks home on “medical leave” were filled with laughter and catching up. That, and picking the brains of the husbands, if only to prove some of his own personal theories.
Joe had been kind enough, about six months after they left for Malta to continue their vacation, to text him and let him know that they were meeting up in Morocco, only a few days prior. Reid had just arrived at the BAU for a case and never really had a chance to text him back with a thank you.
The fact that he had tried nearly twenty times the night before, sleepless and stressed, only to not receive a response, was telling.
“Get some sleep, Pretty Boy. You’ve more than earned it.”
Morgan’s voice dragged him from his thoughts. At this point, ignoring the light dozing he found himself doing, he was pushing eighty hours awake. Far too much.
His friend wouldn’t let him drive home from the airport, citing the fact that he “looked like crap.” Honestly, it was probably a good idea. He wasn’t the best driver on a normal day, and navigating the subway system half asleep was a recipe for disaster.
“Thanks Morgan,” he managed to mutter out, unbuckling his seat belt and going to open the door.
But before the lock had even clicked open, Morgan’s hand was back on his shoulder, this time keeping him still. “Hold on kid. I can see one of your windows open from here. Did you leave one open before we left for the case?”
“What? No… I-” He managed to cut himself off when he realized. Booker didn’t have a key, and his hallway had cameras (thank you Penelope Garcia). The only safe way to get in would be to open a window in the dead of night.
Morgan took off his own seat belt. “I’m coming in with you.”
Reid shook his head. “There’s no need for that. I forgot to shut it. I’m sorry, I’m not entirely awake yet.”
He could see his best friend’s eyebrow raise. He knew the look. The “You’re really gonna try to lie to me, come up with a better excuse next time” look.
There was no way to really talk his way out of this one.
Morgan strode into the building a few steps ahead of Reid, a man on a mission. When he set his mind to some that, especially if it involved his friends, the world better move out of the way. Behind him, Reid stumbled along, trying to work out in his tired mind a way for Morgan to just let this go.
By the time Reid caught up to Morgan, the other man was waiting impatiently outside Reid’s apartment. The young immortal pulled out his keys without question and set them in Morgan’s outstretched hand.
“Morgan, I swear everything is fine. I’m allowed to forget that I cracked a window.”
His friend ignored his comment and unlocked the door. “Look, if everything is fine, I’ll get out of your hair. But you’re half asleep at least, and if there’s someone in your apartment and something happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself. So deal with it kid.”
He pushed open the door, and immediately drew his gun. “Who are you and why are you in this apartment?”
Reid peered around Morgan’s shoulder and quickly saw why his friend was tense. “Morgan, wait! He’s a friend of mine.”
Sitting quietly at the table with Reid’s only bottle of whiskey unopened in front of him, Booker gave both men a withering look. He looked exhausted.
“ Bonjour, petit frère .” His voice was rough, almost gravelly.
Reid reached around Morgan and forcefully pushed down his weapon. “See? Friend. Now go, I’m fine, I’m home, thank you.”
Morgan gave Reid an annoyed look. “Friend? First time I’ve met him.”
“He’s been out of town?” Even as he said it, Reid knew that was not an excuse that wouldn’t fly.
A low chuckle from behind him made him jump. “You are still a terrible liar, Spencer. Five years dealing with us and you still can’t make up anything better than ‘out of town’.”
The young immortal spun around and glared at the Frenchman. “You stay out of it.”
“Reid, who is this guy?”
Booker leaned around to look at the other FBI agent. “ Famille .”
Morgan scoffed. “Family? We’re the kid’s family. Who the hell are you?”
“Some family. Where were you when he died the first time?”
Reid felt his jaw drop. Did that idiot just...
The exhaustion and stress that he’d been fighting against for days finally caught up with him. The floor rushed up to his head as he collapsed.
“Reid!”