Fic: Knowledge and Innocence (1/1, Criminal Minds)

[thefrogg]

Title: Knowledge and Innocence (Episodes and Incidents table 2 Prompt 28: Heartache)
Author: Frogg
Beta: None
Rating: slash, non-explicit
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Words: 1,115 (without lyrics)
Summary: Morgan breaks up with Reid after a hostage situation goes haywire; Gideon tries to pick up the pieces.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.
Author's Note: This is a songfic. I usually don't write songfic, but I heard the first single off Jonatha Brooke's newest album on the radio, bought the CD, and promptly fell in love with a different song on the disc. It's the only song to have driven me to tears, literally, ever, and I've been trying to kill plotbunnies ever since.



Gideon tapped the break room door and leaned in. "Reid? Mind if I come in?"

Reid looked up from the paper he was writing on in mild confusion. "Of course, it-it's the break room."

Taking a seat across from the younger man, Gideon glanced over Reid's form, the bandages and posture. He didn't bother looking at the paper sitting on the table; he knew what it was. "How's the arm?"

Reid started, gave a half-hearted bark of laughter. "You know, it'd be a lot better if people would quit asking me that and reminding me that it hurts." He shrugged, frowning at the white bandage covering most of his left forearm. "It hurts. The glass was worse, though. Not sure why, since the gunpowder..."

"The window exploded less than three feet away from you. You're lucky to be alive," Gideon replied, tension creeping into his voice. "Why'd you do it, anyway? You know it's--" He cut himself off at Reid's headshake.

"Do you remember..." Reid stopped, swallowed, and tried again. "Do you remember when I failed my firearms qualification? You told me that it wasn't necessary to have a gun to kill someone."

"I remember."

"After...On the plane after I killed Dowd, I agreed with you. I'd been thinking about it, but I kept coming up with more questions. I mean, we all carry the normal issue Glock...but you carry it as an afterthought. Hotch carries two of them. For Morgan, it's just part of the job. And I can't hit what I'm aiming for unless there are lives in danger," Reid said. "Why the difference?"

"And did you find your answer?"

The pen twirled between Reid's fingers for a moment before he answered. "Yeah. The weapons we're most comfortable with, the ones we would choose to use, are really just a reflection of the...intellectual and emotional qualities which most define us."

Gideon raised an eyebrow in interest. "Example?"

"Your weapon of choice is the profile itself. You use wisdom and intuition." A sly smile twisted Reid's lips before he continued. "For Hotch, obviously his guns - a reflection of logic and self control." Reid shut his eyes briefly then, lips thinning. "Morgan's an expert in hand-to-hand, and uses worldliness and empathy. I think that's what attracted me in the first place -- the worldliness. I've never seen anyone as comfortable with themselves as Morgan." He shrugged again. "The empathy's what broke us."

Firmly squashing the urge to reach out in comfort, Gideon could only nod. "And yourself?"

"I...don't really have a physical weapon. You, at least, get a folder, or a piece of paper with the profile. But then again, I have no idea what would go with knowledge and innocence. Or, well, perceived innocence. I can't really claim to be innocent in any sense of the word."

"No, I imagine not." Gideon paused. "So what does this have to do with you trading yourself for the hostages?"

Reid's ears burned. "I'm an FBI agent, but I don't register as a threat."

"Perceived innocence." Gideon sighed. "We're really going to have to get you some more 'weapons'."

Reid gave him a small, sad smile. "That's not necessary, Gideon."

"Oh?"

"Morgan can't do his job if he keeps blaming himself for my injuries. I can't do mine if he's not there to come back to."

"That doesn't make any sense, but then, matters of the heart rarely do."

Reid nodded. "I knew it would end like this before we started, but I couldn't help myself."

"And you're not going to fight for it, either."

A shake of the head. "There's nothing I can say to him that he doesn't already know. And fighting, here?"

"Sometimes all that's needed is for someone else to say it," Gideon pointed out.

"Well, don't. I don't want him badgered about it." Reid huffed, indignant.

"All right." Gideon nodded once and spread his hands in acquiecense. "What now?"

"Now, I go home and sleep for a week. Then I suppose I'll need to go through the standing offers I've gotten and see which one appeals the most."

"You and Morgan were together for over a year."

"One year, three months and seventeen days." Reid smiled. "I can't afford to be unemployed, Gideon. And the FBI wasn't the only organization wanting to hire me."

"Then do me two favors."

Reid just looked up at him expectantly.

"Keep in touch. And don't close the door on the BAU."

Reid gave him that same sad smile. "I'll try."

"Good."

Reid straightened in his chair then, shifting uncomfortably as his shirt pulled across the bandages Gideon knew to be underneath. "If-if you don't mind, I'll come back in once I've healed more to clear out my desk."

"And after you've slept for a week."

"Something like that."

"Sure. Here," and Gideon rose, circling the table to hold out a hand, watching the fleeting expressions of relief and gratitude cross Reid's face as he accepted help getting to his feet.

Reid swayed slightly, wincing at the pain.

"Do yourself a favor. Take a taxi home." Gideon smiled, then reached down for Reid's satchel and handed it to him. "I'll call one for you."

Gingerly taking his belongings, Reid nodded. "I...I appreciate it. Thank you." And then he was gone, pen and paper the only reminders of his presence.

Gideon sighed and leaned against the table, reading.

"Effective immediately, I, Dr. Spencer Reid, of sound mind and slightly-battered-but-healing body, hereby resign my position..."

Short and to the point.

Gideon could only shake his head and smile.

It had no date.

~~~

True to Gideon's word, a taxi pulled up to the main entrance a few minutes later. Reid slid carefully into the back seat and gave the driver his home address.

"You mind the music?" the driver asked, meeting his eyes in the rear view mirror.

"N-no, not at all." There was a folksy-sounding song playing, an earthy female voice and guitar. "It's nice, actually. CD?"

"Jonatha Brooke, sir."

"Could you restart it?"

"Certainly." A push of a button, and the track restarted.

Reid pushed the pain in his back and arm to the back of his mind, instead concentrating on the sad strains of music.

And you say that you're ok
You say you don't need anything, or anyone
And that you're better off this way
You'll be fine no matter what
What's done is done

And walking through these darkened rooms
Filled with empty promises, and your perfume

I'll leave the light on
I know you'll be back
I don't need to know any more than that
So don't say a word, don't tell me where you've been
I'll be here waiting, just to let you in

And you say that I'm naïve
Love is not a fairy tale
Well maybe so, who would know
Cuz I'm the fool who still believes
That there's a happy ending here
That time will tell and love will know

Even in these darkened rooms
I will keep my promises to cherish and believe in you

I'll leave the light on
I know you'll be back
I don't need to know any more than that
So don't say a word, don't tell me where you've been
I'll be here waiting, just to let you in

I'd rather be a fool now, than a slave to my own pride
I'd rather let you go, just to let you know
That I'm always on your side

So I'll leave the light on
I know you'll be back
I don't need to know any more than that
Don't say a word, don't tell me where you've been
I'll be here waiting, just to let you in

As the last few chords died away, Reid leaned forward and asked, "Would you mind playing it again?"

The driver glanced up at him again. "You like that song." It wasn't a question.

"Story of my-my life, lately."

"If you like." And the song started over.

Reid couldn't be there waiting for Morgan to make up his mind, or to come to his senses.

But he could leave the light on.

Morgan did, after all, have a key.

~~~the end~~~

Previous:  Cold Logic
Next:      And the World Cried Out

Comments

[callmeang.livejournal.com]

Sigh, my heart. I don't usually read songfic, but I knew yours would be good, so I did. And I was pleased that I did, obviously.

I'll have to hunt that CD down, the one song sounds heartbreakingly lovely.

[thefrogg.livejournal.com]

I don't particularly care for songfic much either -- at least where the lyrics aren't an integral part of the story. A lyric in introduction, like the quotes CM uses to open and close each ep are nice, but whole songs...eh.

Jonatha has a wonderful wonderful website where you can listen to the single (Careful what you wish for, also the title track), and the first part of all the songs on the CD. There are really interesting notes on each of the songs, also. http://www.jonathabrooke.com/

I don't mind listening to any of the songs (rather rare for me), but my favorites are I'll Leave The Light On (Obviously), Je N'Peux Pas Te Plaire, and Careful What You Wish For, in that order.

Anyways. This story has been trying to claw its way out since Friday, when I got the CD. I'm glad I managed to have gotten the whole situation across in these two scenes, since there were supposed to be more. I tried writing them, but they didn't turn out right.:( I was too impatient to get this posted to have it betaed, so I'm hoping I wasn't too far off-base with my characterization.

Thanks for reading. I'm fairly sure this story is done, but we'll see. Maybe something else will catch my attention and inspire a sequel.

[fireness.livejournal.com]

I think you just broke my heart. D=

[thefrogg.livejournal.com]

::hugs::

Be grateful it was this one, and not the other plotbunny. At least everyone survived in this one.::flees::

Thanks!

[(Anonymous)]

Any chance of a sequel?

[thefrogg.livejournal.com]

I have no idea. I think the story's done, but if something gets my muse's attention, there might be.

Thanks for reading!

[prettychemistry.livejournal.com]

I've always loved the songfic format, because I'm often inspired the way you described being so by a song I love. I felt that the way you integrated the song into the story was creative and worked out well.

Beautiful writing here. I loved, "...of sound mind and slightly-battered-but-healing body..." - Your characterization of Spencer is lovely.

[thefrogg.livejournal.com]

Songfics - good ones - can be incredibly powerful. Unfortunately, the majority that I've read simply insert verse and/or chorus between scenes or into a scene with no integration, so that the song becomes filler and dilutes the story. I really feel that a song has to be part of the story in order to warrant adding the lyrics like I did. I.e., the character's listening to it, or it's stuck in their head, or they're at a club or concert and it's playing...Not just an 'Oh, this song reflects the mood of the story'...but I digress.

I actually had a hard time getting "I'll leave the light on" in the story. Reid doesn't seem the type to listen to folk music; he probably listens to classical when given a choice. The only person on the team I actually *can* see listening to it is JJ, and she's not in the story, period. So, uh, yeah. Take a taxi home. Taxi drivers are great for gettin your characters to listen to/talk about stuff they otherwise normally wouldn't, I guess.

The "...of sound mind and slightly-battered-but-healing body..." line was one of the first to come to mind when I started brainstorming this. That, and the one about Reid not being able to do his job if Morgan's not there to come back to. I thought it was apt, and humorous through my eyes, but Reid's literal enough to want to tell the truth in writing it, and he's got a bullet wound and glass cuts all over.

Thank you for the comments. I was really worried about my characterization in this one, particularly since it's unbetaed. Now I'm kind of wondering if I posted it unbetaed because I was afraid someone would read it and go, "It's a breakup fic! Reid shouldn't be all sad and resigned and accepting about it!" He is sad and resigned and accepting, but he's also doing what he needs to do to protect himself as best he can, *and* leave time and space and wiggle room for reconciliation...and he was expecting it.

Maybe I *should* write a sequel. Unfortunately, I have no inspiration for it as of yet.:(

[prettychemistry.livejournal.com]

While all fans love more of fics they like, it's always been my policy that any fic you don't feel inspired to write won't turn out as well. In this case, the ending here is such a good mix of sadness and hope - I think a sequel might dilute the impact of that.

As for the songfic format, I have a different take. I can't explain it, but I have a fic on the way that might show what I mean.

[thefrogg.livejournal.com]

Forced writing never works. That's why this particular story is only two scenes and Morgan doesn't even show up. We'll see what happens with my muse. I know what happens afterwards, but...eh.

Any personal rules for any format is bound to have exceptions. I know there are several songfics that work incredibly well where the song isn't actually in the story, that I personally like very much. But most of what I've seen is what I described - the song becomes filler.

I'm looking forward to reading your take on songfic.

[rotschopf.livejournal.com]

Toldcha I'd read and comment ^^

Well, what can I say? I have no idea, really, who the characters are since we both know that I didn't pay much attention to the show (and prolly won't since I so don't need another fandom).

But your way with words is just ... heartbreaking, to put it mildly.

Definitely liked what Reid put in as first line for his resignation *giggles*. Hmm. He sorta reminds me of Daniel Jackson actually ...

H-anyways. Me liked! A lot :)

♥

[vampchick88.livejournal.com]

oh, i really want to see if this goes any further, it's really great!