Our cast just can't seem to not injure themselves, can they? This oneshot has… well, sort of a backstory. It is my version (a humored one, at that) of what happened to Reid (and now Morgan) and why they injured themselves. The back story to this is that… well, it really happened to a friend, my brother, and I – not that we actually broke anything when this happened, but we indeed ended up in the emergency room. My brother was the only one who remained standing, looking down with a quite puzzled look on his face. This one shot is going out to the aforementioned one, also the one I called this morning, screaming my lungs out about how our cast needed to be put in a giant bubble.
Derek Morgan ran a hand over his head as he turned his eyes towards Hotchner. The day had been a long one, there was no understating that, and a wild goose chase had ran them to where they currently were. The two black SUVs were humming idly by the side of the duck pond. The Gris Mill wasn't open at this time of night, and there were barely any lights. The BAU had raced to this pond based on the profile that they'd incorrectly come up with. Now, three of the team stood across the street from the pond, looking out with puzzled gazes, each inside their own minds. They'd fully expected to find their UnSub here, which had been an immense disappointment to all of them. They were back at square one now. The fence behind Morgan was of the wooden split rail variety. It stood on the top of a hill that tumbled down to a brook, interrupted by a contraption made of a cinder block looking material, which Reid assumed was for the giant wind mill that stood somewhere behind them. At least, he assumed it was a wind mill, as seeing much of anything at this time of night was almost an absolute impossibility.
"The profile was wrong," Reid said, tired legs finally deciding that they weren't too keen on holding him up anymore, and he sat, ungracefully, on the fence behind them, eyes out on the duck pond across the street. "Obviously, this isn't his place of solace." The young genius rubbed a hand across his tired eyes.
Morgan joined him on the fence, stifling a yawn. "I don't think so, kid. All I know is that this is – ironically – a wild goose chase." In response, a far off goose honked obnoxiously into the night air.
"Then we need to find out what exactly is his place of solace, before he kills again – we have less than a day." Hotch said, his dark suit making it seem as if only his face hovered in the night air. He looked at the fence, knowing that the added weight of him sitting on it probably wasn't a good idea, and instead leaned back against it.
Did your parents ever tell you the story about the little animals on the see-saw when you were a child? The animals wanted to make the weight even so they could use the seesaw. One end was up in the air, the other flat on the ground. A hippo sat on one side, perhaps a swan sat on the other. More and more animals poured onto the swan's side of the see-saw, but to no avail –the hippo was just too heavy.
And then, just when the animals are about to give up, a wayward fly lands on the swan's side of the see-saw, and down they go.
Hotch was that wayward fly.
The sliding action of his body against the split rail of the fence caused the wooden pole to dislodge from its notch, wiggling itself free of the fence it made the top rail of. The bottom rail mercilessly stayed in place.
Spencer Reid screamed a scream that would be talked about for years as he and Derek Morgan flew through the air, tripped by the bottom rail, and sailed head over heels down the hill behind them. Gravity had been having a bad day, and needed some comfort food, which, apparently, came in the form of two BAU profilers.
"Hotchhhhh!" It was the scream that was only in movies, the one that got smaller and smaller as one fell through space.
Gravity had also left Aaron Hotchner standing, still facing the pond across from them. Feeling the absence of the fence rail, he turned to find his teammates lying at the bottom of the hill – the only thing that had stopped Derek Morgan from entering the brook was the cinder block, and the only thing that had stopped Spencer Reid from entering the brook were the rocks at the bank of it.
"Reid? Morgan?" He stared down at the hill, wondering if he'd done that.
There was a rustle of movement behind him as the rest of the team appeared, staring down at the mess of a fence.
"Was that the fence?" Rossi asked, brow furrowed.
"I think I did that." Hotch said, staring into the darkness. "Are you guys alright?" He called down, climbing over the remains of the fence, along with Rossi, Prentiss, and JJ, who was calling Reid's name repetitively into the dark.
"Down here." Came the response, slightly pained. "I think I hurt my knee." JJ and Hotch went to him as Prentiss and Rossi helped a groaning Morgan sit up.
"I think I broke my leg." Morgan answered, growling slightly. He paused. "Do we have to tell Garcia about this?"
"The cast'll be hard to miss." Hotch called back up the hill, he and JJ supporting a limping Reid up the hill.
Morgan groaned, not from pain, but from the fact that he would have to tell a certain technical analyst just how he'd ended up breaking his leg.
It was later at Joseph's Hospital that a tired looking nurse posed questions of admittance to both Morgan and Reid.
"How did this happen?" The dark haired woman asked the question that both profilers had been dreading.
"I was saving a kitten from a burning tree. I threw the kitten down and lost my balance." Morgan answered, joking despite the pain he was in. In fact, he sounded quite serious, and the nurse eyed him for a moment before turning her eyes to Reid.
"I was the kitten." Reid answered.
Yes, my friend Agnixx and I really fell down a hill, but I was the only one who ended up in the emergency room. She came with and sat in the waiting room with my brother and listened to conversations with little kids and their parents about what blood was and if eyes contained it. Literally.