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Derek didn’t get angry until three days later. Or maybe he was hurt, differentiating between these two had never been easy for him.
He told himself it wasn’t a big deal, that he should let it go. Penelope would never hurt him on purpose and really, there was no reason to be hurt in the first place. But Derek just couldn’t help it, he was hurt.
Avoiding her wasn’t a conscious decision. At least not at first.
So what if he didn’t have time to chat and someone else had to call her to get new information? He was busy after all, one doesn’t catch serial killers while sweet talking their friend. And then, somehow, avoiding her was easier than talking to her and pretending the smile on his face was real.
He started missing out on their weekly brunch, I’m sorry I’m busy, he declined when they asked him to join them for drinks, I’m tired, and at some point even Hotch frowned when he noticed his behaviour. The last thing Derek wanted was to hurt his best friend, but he’d rather be an asshole than associating his sweet, sweet friend with ugly anger. So when she gave him that miserable look when he let her down once again he turned around and dashed out of the FBI building as fast as he could.
Derek wasn’t quite sure what his plan was. Maybe he was stupid, but he had hoped having the distance would get his head straight again and they could continue just like they did before. Obviously it didn’t work and now he was terrified that he was destroying their friendship with his childish behaviour. And while he knew he wasn’t actually stupid, profiler skills and common sense and all that, the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it. Communication being the key for a healthy relationship be damned, what do those shrinks know anyway.
The irony of it all was, he missed it. He missed talking to Penelope. Talking to her was the easiest thing he knew, no matter what they said or did it felt like a hug. Like one of those tight ones his mother gave him when he was so small and scared of the dark. Like one of those where you felt like the world couldn’t hurt you, not when Penelope Garcia was there to hold him.
He would never admit it, it was embarrassing to say the least, but he needed comfort too. It was so tiring to be strong, to be tough and in the end of the day his strong body couldn’t protect him from the loneliness that had been eating at him for so long he wondered how much more was left of him to take anyway.
Penelope never questioned him for it, she saw right through his pretense and gave him exactly the thing he craved before even he knew he needed it. No matter how weak and pathetic it made him, she still saw him as the strongest man that walked the earth with the most delicious body there is (her words, not his). It made him feel warm all over. So, after particularly tough cases, the first thing he did was go to her. He never had to say a single word, she knew all the same and the hug she gave him finally let him breathe.
It had been a tough case.
That kind of case where he dreaded going to bed because he knew what would await him. As if it hadn't been stealing his sleep the past days already. The boys were barely twelve. There was no satisfaction in arresting the bastard, it wouldn’t change anything in the end. These children would forever be haunted and there would always be another monster lurking in the shadows.
At this point Derek just didn’t have the strength to hide the toll it took on him. He hasn’t been sleeping in days, he couldn’t eat and those vile words the bastard had said were an echo of him, playing all over in his head like a broken record. The only positive thing that came out of it was the people around him finally got the hint to leave him alone.
Except one Penelope Garcia, that is.
“Okay, I’m done!” she declared when she came rushing into his office, the exasperation evident on her face, “We need to talk”
Derek only looked at her for a second before he closed his eyes, thoroughly exhausted. Looking at her hurt and he was so tired of feeling that way. All he wanted to do was finish this report as soon as he could manage with this horrible headache and then leave.
“There is nothing to talk about,” he didn’t mean to sound so annoyed, but his nerves were stretched thin, “Penelope, I’m tired. Please, leave me alone”
She stumbled back as if had hit her, her eyes wide in shock. Guilt immediately punished him for his dismissive behaviour, but this time the anger was stronger.
“No, Derek, I’m not going to leave until you talk to me!” she protested like a stubborn child and now he saw red.
“So I’m not the only one who can’t take no for an answer, huh?” he bit out, his tongue poisonous but he just didn’t have the energy to care. Perhaps he would’ve reacted differently if she had ambushed him literally any other day, but she hadn’t and Derek was just so, so tired.
“What are you even talking about?” she looked at him as if he was being unreasonable, as if he was the one not making sense. All he could do was look at her frown before he started to laugh desperately, out of all things.
“Are you serious right now?” he asked her and got up, his head was pounding and his body screamed at him to move, that he was in danger. Somehow this rift between them terrified him more than any gun pointed in his face ever could. Penelope just shrugged her shoulders helplessly, genuine confusion written all over her lovely face.
“Do you accuse all of your friends of being a rapist?”
All color left her, she looked at him as if he was a ghost and at this point, he felt like one. He hated himself for being so vile, so foul, but she hurt him. She hurt him and she didn’t even care. After all his progress to finally trust someone he was rewarded with being proved right all over again. He should’ve known better.
“Derek, I would never-”
“Oh, so it’s just me then?” He huffed, but this time his voice betrayed him, “Penelope, if you think so lowly of me then I honestly don’t understand how you could see me as a friend. What have I done to you to break your trust like that?”
That had been gnawing at him all these days. Clearly, it wasn’t her fault for thinking of him like that, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out where he had gone wrong. Was it the flirting? Did that give her the impression he was a horrible person in disguise? Did he make her uncomfortable all this time and she just didn’t want to upset him? Was she scared he would use his strength against her if she told him to stop? Did he-
“Of course not!”
Now she seemed terrified and while he was mostly convinced she was terrified of hurting him, a tiny part accused him, telling him she was terrified of him, that all of this was his fault.
“You did nothing wrong, I don’t understand where all of this is coming-”
“Last Thursday,” he blurted out, he just couldn’t hold back anymore. All this time he had tried to avoid talking to her, for he knew it would exactly go down like this. She would be hurt and he would be the asshole, just like always, “I came over, you had too much wine and I slept on your couch. You ignored me the whole next day, because you thought I would be so disgusting to take advantage of you being drunk”
Realization hushed over her features but it did nothing to console him. Out of all reactions he had imagined, relief wasn’t one of them.
“Oh, that,” she waved it off with a huff, “it was nothing. Even if, it wouldn’t be rape anyway. I was just scared it would ruin our friendship, sugar”
A bullet wouldn’t be anywhere near a death sentence like these tiny words. If he could, he would’ve taken his gun and given it to her so she could shoot him with it instead. Anything just to erase her words out of his mind.
“It- it wouldn’t be rape,” he repeated with a strangled voice, all fight having left him with the air she had knocked out of his lungs, “So what Buford did to me,” he continued and God, how he hated those familiar tears searing his eyes, “that was just me being irresponsible with wine? Good to know”
There it was. The root of his misery.
All these decades he had convinced himself if he just hadn’t accepted that first glass, if he just hadn’t allowed Buford to lower his walls with alcohol maybe, just maybe things would’ve happened differently. After many, many therapy sessions he had slowly started to accept it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t the wine, it was Buford all along. He had been nothing more than a child, a child that didn’t deserve the guilt, the shame.
You could’ve said no.
He didn’t let her respond. The damage was done anyway, all his hard work crumbled just like that and he was back right where had been mere years ago. Every time he thought he had made it, he could finally leave it behind and move on, it came right back to suffocate him.
Before she could even think of stopping him, he rushed out of the room, his jacket still on his chair, his bag still left next to his desk. He ignored it, he ignored the elevator and he ignored Spencer asking him if he was alright. He ran and ran and ran until he finally couldn’t see the building anymore.
Somewhere, way back in his mind, he knew he overreacted. He was very much aware he was projecting his own issues onto another person who didn’t know any better. The last thing he had wanted was to make this huge thing out of a simple misunderstanding, but here he was, probably having destroyed a friendship that lasted almost a decade with his dramatics.
If he wouldn’t be so stupidly emotional about it, he would get up and apologize to her. Tell her he didn’t mean to accuse her like that and hope she would forgive him. But some part of him didn’t want to apologize. He was always the one to apologize and he was so sick of it. While his reaction was unnecessarily cruel and unreasonably angry, she still had hurt him. He was fine with people hurting him and not even admitting it, it happened quite enough and it didn’t matter anyway, but even his thick skin could only take so much. To be accused of the same thing that had ruined his childhood and scarred him for life? Derek drew the line at that.
Besides, getting drunk and being stupid was much more fun anyways.
He remembered how he had texted Hotch that he was taking some days off and for all he cared he could cut him the pay for it. The only thing his boss had told him was he could take all the time he needed, followed by a Do you want to talk about it?
Derek turned his phone off after that. The last thing he wanted was to tell his boss how he lashed out because Penelope thought he would ignore her consent. He didn’t need the lecture he just knew would follow, Hotch always took the other side. And really, it was probably warranted too this time.
It wasn’t like Derek was a reckless person. Okay, maybe he was a little, depending on who you ask (just don’t ask Hotch). He knew drinking wasn’t going to fix any problems, instead it would only cause more. The smart decision would have been to call his therapist so they could make sense of his confusing emotions together. Hell, she had told him he could call her anytime, even if their sessions had ended months ago. But some habits just wouldn’t leave him.
At first he had tried to calm down with his latest property project, but he still felt restless even after a whole wall was reduced to mere rubble. That hadn’t worked so he tried to get the tension out by working himself to exhaustion in the gym. After pounding his fists into a punching bag for hours and throwing his sparring partner Jim onto the floor until the man grunted in pain, he realized this didn’t help either. So he did what stupid college Derek had done, because that had always worked. Alcohol and women. A dangerous combination, but at least his mind stopped temporarily.
He wasn’t quite sure what day it was when Spencer sat down next to him at the bar. He knew how he only went home to shower and change, because the thought of being alone with his dreams terrified him too much. He knew he had slept with women he barely remembered if only so he could hold them instead of falling asleep. He knew he had kissed that one man in the alley behind the bar only to prove himself he wasn’t broken, but it ended with him panicking all the same. He knew he was being stupid, but he didn’t know what day it was.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he asked the man holding his jacket and bag, awfully gruffly, not even taking his eyes off his glass, “How did you find me anyway?”
“Today is Sunday and there is no case. No, I don’t have work to do,” Spencer replied calmly and asked the bartender politely to give him the same drink, “It was mostly elimination and luck. You frequent bars in this part of town, because it’s not too close and not too far away from your house. You have your three favorite bars, but you wouldn’t visit them as you know we would check there first. It only took me five attempts to find you, which is quite relieving because your bag is ridiculously heavy. Do you have bricks in them?”
Derek wanted to kiss him. Stupid Spencer and his stupid explanations.
He took another sip of his beer instead.
The thought that he had spent the past four days drinking himself into oblivion didn’t sit right with him. He hadn’t let himself get that bad ever since he started his job as a police officer. If he would’ve been just a little more sober, he might even be concerned about it. Right now he just wanted to drink, sue him.
“You hate booze,” he only commented when Spencer took his ordered beer. Silly as the man was he protested and tried to down as much he could, only to grimace disgusted. He did that adorable thing with his nose that made him look like a bunny, Derek realized but he blamed that on the alcohol running through his veins. When he laughed and Spencer grinned triumphantly he scoffed. Of course he did that on purpose, only to make him feel a little better. Somehow, this made him smile even more.
“Give me that,” he took the beer out of his hand, ignoring the shiver that ran down his spine when those soft fingertips touched him, so he could wave over the bartender and order a sickly sweet mocktail for his friend.
Spencer didn’t push him, didn’t ambush him with all the questions he clearly had. All he did was hum happily when he tasted the colorful abomination and told him the history of cocktails and mocktails. Somehow, his racing thoughts finally stopped. He just listened to him and watched his dancing hands, mesmerized. Derek just couldn’t figure out what it was about the boy that managed to calm him down like that. He wanted to bottle it up and carry it around with him wherever he went, but that was creepy.
They sat there until the bar closed and of course the nice man Spencer was, he helped the bartender to put up the chairs. So Derek spent the next 15 minutes helping them clean up. This confusing, cozy feeling underneath his skin started to fade when they were about to part, however. He didn’t want Spencer to leave, not now when he finally calmed down.
“How will you get home?” He asked softly if only to keep him for one moment longer, but when the man pointed to the subway he swallowed his hesitation to finally ask him what he wanted to all evening, “My home is closer, you could- I have a guest room”
“Thank you,” Spencer smiled shyly at the offer, “I’d like that”
Spencer had stayed over quite a few times, but this, this felt different. Derek ignored it just like he ignored the weird feeling in his chest at Spencer’s smile when he wrapped his leather jacket around his lean frame. The genius was always freezing and those poor excuses of jackets he had did nothing to help with that.
“Can I ask you something?” he eventually asked quietly when his heart finally slowed and his breaths weren’t just puffs of air but actually filled his lungs.
“Of course,” Spencer replied, he was basically drowning in the huge jacket and Derek may have almost tripped because of it, “I’ll answer to the best of my capability”
“Have I ever made you uncomfortable?”
It rushed out of his mouth before he could think of wrapping it up in prettier words but he still pushed through it. He needed to know.
“With something I’ve done? DId I cross your boundaries?”
Spencer’s steps faltered at that, from surprise or tension he wasn’t quite sure. It made him regret his questions all the same, but he needed to know.
“When we first met I was admittedly a little anxious,” the younger man started slowly after thinking about it. One thing about Spencer he had always appreciated was how he was honest to a fault. He rarely spoke without analyzing every single knowledge he had at his disposable, “But that had nothing to do with you, really. I think I just had to get used to people like you”
“People like me?”
“People that were genuinely good,” Spencer explained, his eyes so unbelievably soft, “I’m so used to beautiful people having a malicious heart and you debunked that theory. You didn’t fit into any of my statistics and that was uncomfortable, I guess”
“Do I fit into one of your statistics now?” he didn’t understand why those words made him feel so warm, he still held his breath when Spencer stopped and looked at him with those impossible kind features.
“I don’t care,” he then shrugged his shoulders and continued with a dopey smile, “I like you more than statistics anyway”
Maybe Derek blushed, maybe he didn’t. He wasn’t a stupid teeanger after all and that was his friend. Still, any response he could possibly think of was stuck in his throat and he could do nothing but stare at the man that was wearing his jacket like a blanket.
“So to answer your question,” Spencer continued when he realized Derek wouldn’t speak anytime soon, “No, you never made me uncomfortable and no, you have never crossed any of my boundaries. In fact, I think you helped me discover that I had any in the first place”
Derek wanted to kiss him. He didn’t.
“You trust me?” he asked weakly instead, he didn’t know what else to do. Maybe if he just told him what was weighing him down Spencer could help him. He always seemed to have all the right answers. But his tongue felt so heavy, some part of him realized it wasn’t the alcohol, but shame . He hated the shame.
“Is this about what happened with Penelope?” Spencer asked him slowly, he could barely nod in return.
When Spencer hugged him he froze for a second. He couldn’t even remember the last time the man initiated physical contact, not everyone needed touch like Derek. But God, did Derek need it. All the tension that had built up seemed to melt away until he was liquid gold in his hands, holding onto him like a lifeline. He buried his face into his neck, the soft hair tickling him and embracing him with the lovely scent of strawberries. So he did use the shampoo he got him after all.
When they eventually parted, it was the last thing Derek wanted to do, Spencer gave him another of those sweet smiles before he continued with absolute sincerity, “I trust you with my life, Morgan”
There was something else in those words, something he couldn’t quite grasp, something he couldn’t name but it stole his breath all the same.
“I trust you too,” he then replied quietly, elated to see the smile grow even wider.
“Good,” Spencer answered with flushed cheeks but he almost looked smug when he tapped Derek’s chest, “I don’t share my jell-o with just anyone”
“I knew you were bribing me this whole time!” Derek laughed and threw an arm around his shoulder when they continued to walk, ruffling his hair when the man scoffed, “Could’ve at least given me the good one “
“The red one is the best one!” Spencer protested with a stupid grin, his body softly bumping into his with every step, “Also, don’t act like you wouldn’t eat anything in sight”
“Hey!”
They continued to bicker all the way home and for this little eternity the world seemed okay.
Spencer did sleep in the guest room even if Derek wanted nothing more than to be held through the torment he knew would follow him underneath his covers. He did get his wish a few hours later when Spencer had to shake his drenched body out of the all too familiar torture. When they eventually fell asleep facing each other, Derek apparently was braver when he was halfway consumed by the abyss of his misery, he learned two things:
One, Spencer didn’t just steal the blanket but also shamelessly used him as a pillow and two, sleeping was so much easier with a friend by his side.
The next day they entered the BAU together.
JJ and Rossi looked at him through the glass door with matching surprise and relief. He waved at them with a meek smile, but before he joined them he needed to do something else first.
“See you later?” he asked Spencer who stood next to him with a shy smile and replied, “I’ll get the coffee ready”
Derek wanted to kiss him. He didn’t.
Instead he gave him another small, grateful smile and got on the way to mend some bridges.
“I swear to god if it’s not a life or-”
Penelope choked on her spiteful words when she turned around and got greeted with his hesitant smile.
“Pump your brakes, baby girl,” he said with an attempt of a chuckle, his hands lifted in surrender, “Same sides”
The beloved mug she had been holding fell to the floor, crashing to a dozen of pieces, but all he could see were her wide eyes with those dreadful tears. She looked awful. Penelope was one of the most beautiful people he knew, but barely anything reminded him of her now. She looked pale, dull, no color or shine to her figure. It was almost jarring to see her all in black, he couldn’t believe she owned something in that color.
He winced when he looked down to the shambles, the last thing he wanted was to cause her distress.
“I’m sure I have glue at home, I’ll fix-”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, it broke his heart, “I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me”
It wasn’t even a conscious decision to pull her into his arms, his body just
knew.
His girl was crying and he couldn’t have that. Penelope held onto him just like he had yesterday onto Spencer, her head buried in his strong chest. She always claimed it was the safest place on earth.
“I could never hate you, baby girl,” he whispered into her hair, relishing in the feeling of having his best friend back by his side, “Never, you hear?”
She looked up to him, her sorrowful face that of an innocent child, it almost made him weep. But he couldn’t, not now anyway, maybe when he was hidden behind his four walls. Then he could break down. Now, however, he needed to console her. So he held her soft face and caressed her flushed cheeks with his calloused thumbs.
“I hurt you,” she sniffled, “I’m sorry, I never wanted to hurt you”
“I overreacted, it’s fine,” he brushed it off instinctively, she was more important than his pride, “I’m sorry I treated you like that. You didn’t deserve that, I had no right”
“Derek, stop,” she pleaded and eased out his arms, her eyes so much heavier than just mere seconds ago, “You don’t have to always carry the burden of everything that went wrong. None of this was your fault”
He stilled. Somehow her words were caress and slap at once. She pried his chest open, exposed his hearts in ways he didn’t want to, in ways he was absolutely terrified of.
“It’s not like that,” he replied weakly as no other words wanted to leave his lips, “I shouldn’t have said any of that”
“I shouldn’t have made those implications,” she retorted, stubbornly grabbing his hands as if that alone could change his mind. He still squeezed back.
“I never, never wanted to make you feel like I don’t trust you. Because I do, I trust you with my life!”
Spencer had claimed the same thing just mere hours earlier, he realized. Perhaps that one vile voice, his voice, was wrong after all. He wasn’t a horrible person, at least not completely.
“I trust you too,” he swallowed but his throat remained dry, “It’s just-”
“I betrayed your trust,” she filled in when he didn’t manage to speak further, his tongue was just so heavy with all the things he couldn’t voice, “Derek, you are the kindest man I know. You are my safe haven”
She cradled his face, he exhaled with the tension leaving his tight shoulders. He loved when she did that.
“There is no man I know with a sweeter heart than yours,” he huffed at that, she had always been one for exaggerations, “Hey, it’s true! You’re ridiculously perfect, charming mine”
“Okay, baby girl,” he laughed quietly and carefully circled his hands around her waist. Not even two weeks ago he would’ve never hesitated like that, but it was what it was.
“Just say you need your shower fixed again”
“Derek Morgan!” She pushed his chest in faux exasperation, “Are you saying I’m only nice to you when I need something fixed?”
He looked at her with a lifted eyebrow, it always made her smile, his smirk saying it all.
“Okay, maybe my shower is broken again,” she relented with a giggle but then she looked at him with fierce eyes, “You know that I love you, right?”
“How could you not? I heard I’m quite ridiculously perfect,” he teased and continued with a chuckle when he saw her dramatic eye roll, “I love you too, baby girl”
He pulled her against his chest once more, holding her tight so nothing could get in between them again. Penelope held him just as strong, her wet mascara completely ruining his shirt. It was a small price to pay, he thought. Anything to hold his angel again.
“Derek, about-”
His whole body tensed when she spoke. He couldn’t do it, not now. Not when he had been so vulnerable already. Maybe another time. Hopefully never.
“Don’t,” he whispered, it was the small plea of the child he had never managed to let go of, “It’s fine”
“It’s not,” her tiny fists buried into the fabric of his shirt even more, he put his chin on top of her head just so she couldn’t look up and see the ugly, threatening tears that tried to betray him. He couldn’t tear down another wall just yet, not when his heart was still terrified of being seen, “Please, tell me I can do something for you. I’d do anything”
He thought about the offer. If he would be honest with himself, there were many things he’d asked her to do, even begged her for. For her to never leave his side again, for her to hold him through the nights until it got easier, for her to tell him what those confusing feelings crawling in his chest were.
He voiced none of that.
“Just don’t pour that extra glass of wine,” he then settled on.
It was serious enough considering how her breath hitched, but also light enough to make her smile and let him breathe. She let him go to look him determined in his eyes and lifted her pinky finger.
“No wine shall pass my lips again,” she said with absolute conviction, “Only grape juice from now on. Pinky promise”
He laughed at her lovely antics. There really was no sweeter being than Penelope Garcia. Relieved, he remembered two things:
One, talking to her was the easiest thing he knew, again. It felt like a hug. Like one of those tight ones his mother gave him even when he had gotten too big and was scared for totally new reasons. Like one of those where you felt like the world couldn’t hurt you, not when Penelope Garcia was there to hold him.
Two, facing his demons was so much easier when you had friends by your side. He thought of Spencer’s heartbeat steadily greeting his own, his hair tickling his nose and his ever cold fingers shielding him from all these cruel words that weren’t his to hear. It made him smile. Apparently, he was doing at least something right if two of the kindest souls he knew embraced his wicked one. What a terrifying truth that was.
“I think one glass is fine,” he replied with an honest laugh, his pinky still dutifully intertwining with hers. She took those very seriously.
He still picked up all the lost pieces of her mug when she didn’t look. He still spent the whole night gluing them together, regretting everything he ever did to get him to this point, but his sore fingers were so worth the experience of her excited squeal and how she fell around his neck which almost made him drop the mug again. She claimed it was so much better now with the glitter glue he had used (it was a pain to find one, but she didn’t need to know).
When he walked into her empty den to drop off some files and saw the mug sitting right next to her figurine he had to smile.
Even if some things were broken it didn’t mean they were beyond repair. It just meant a little more work, perhaps some glitter and acceptance. He knew his friendship with Penelope wouldn’t ever be the same again, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It just meant they had transformed, they had shifted just like the pieces of the mug so they could hold the glue. Their friendship had changed and it would take time to mend the wounds that went even beyond their fight. He knew his wounds were just as important as hers and the ones they had created together. Lucky for him, he had the best friend one could wish for and an abundance of glitter glue stored in his garage now (it had only been available in a ridiculously big package deal and honestly, who knew what needed to be fixed next anyway).
He wouldn’t say he was glad it had happened, grateful even less, but it had happened and not all the changes it had brought were so bad.
For one, he had a much deeper connection to Penelope now and had the opportunity to actually make her realize what true consent was, that it went beyond a simple yes or no. It broke his heart to think of her surprised face, as if she hadn’t even considered it once. In return she helped to accept once more that it hadn’t been the wine, nor him, it had been Buford all along. He still struggled with that even of his best days, but the therapy sessions he had once more helped a lot too.
The other change it had brought made him smile even more.
It brought Spencer Reid into his arms.
Derek knew he was a great many things, but mostly he was an oblivious idiot. In true Derek Morgan fashion he hadn’t realized that all these nights ago Spencer had tried to tell him he loved him. Hell, he hadn’t even realized he loved Spencer. Had loved him for years too.
That night in the bar, that night where Spencer held him through his worst fears, that night something had changed between them.
“Hey, you okay?” Spencer asked him softly when he kept staring at the mug. Derek looked to his boyfriend, his boyfriend, with a sincere smile on his face.
“Yeah, I am,” he replied and intertwined their hands. This time it was the truth.
Sometimes a lot of things can change because of that extra glass of wine.
Sometimes, not all change is bad.
And sometimes, Derek Morgan loved glitter glue on his fingertips.
“We always see the worst in our selves. Our most vulnerable selves. We need someone to get close enough to tell us that we’re wrong. Someone we trust.”
― David Levithan