My first Criminal Minds' fanfiction =) English is my second language and I didn't ask my beta to correct this since I'm bothering her way too much (So sorry big sis, I'm always breathing on your neck!) that's why you'll probably find some grammar mistakes... (I already feel sorry for it...I'm killing the language!) Disclaimer: I do NOT own Criminal Minds nor Sherman Moore nor Matthew Grey Gubler (but in my wildest dreams I had) Enjoy!

When evil occurs, it express the whole of the universe.

Similarly when good occurs.

E.M. Forster


He leaned against the wall and slowly slid into a sitting position, embracing himself he tried hard not to let the tears he felt burning his eyes go. Those tears that started forming too long ago but that he had always managed to prevent from falling down; those tears that were the proof of his suffering, of his torn soul: he had seen too much, he had felt too much. All the shit that happened to him when he was a child, his father's death, all those murders he had to analyze, all those corpses. Who was the sadistic genius who discovered suffering, by the way? Who was the dreadful god who, one day, decided to create hate and terror and fear? Didn't they have anything better to do?

He had experienced every side of pain, mental or physical, he had felt the taste of agony in his mouth; but yet, he had never cried, never pitied himself. However, now it was different, he couldn't take it anymore: the barrier he had been able to build up around himself was alarmingly creaking.

A hand caressed his head lovingly, and he knew for sure he had reached the top maximum, he was breaking.

"Those kids—"

A soft sob escaped from his lips, against his will: shutting his eyes he tried to fight back the tears but they stung so badly that he had to open them again and a lonely tear made its way down his cheek. The warm hand moved from his head just to place itself on his arm, grasping it tightly, and he found the courage to look up, to look at the only person he was willing to show his broken—his weakest side to.

Reid knelt down in front of him and threw quick glances around them: Prentiss was talking at the phone, Hotch was nowhere to be seen and the other ones too busy to notice them. He turned his gaze to Morgan and cupped his face with both hands.

"I'm taking you away, alright? I'm taking you away."

Morgan simply nodded.

As they stepped outside the house they tried to avoid the other agents' looks; they walked close to each other and even ignored Hotch's questions as they got into the black SUV and quickly closed the doors. Hotch was still standing there, he waited few seconds and stared blankly at his agents' faces, it took him other few seconds to understand. He knocked at the driver's window then.

"Be back soon, I need your reports."

Reid bit his lips and nodded, then carefully looked at his companion who was now sunk into his seat, his eyes fixed in front of himself.

Morgan heard him starting the engine and, as soon as he was sure they were far away, he pressed his hands to his eyes and finally let go.

The younger man drove in silence through the streets of Pasadena, he didn't stop for a long while because the only thing that mattered at that moment was getting Derek far away from the crime scene, far away from the horrors, far away from their lives even though just for a brief moment. It would have been enough, he thought, everything would just get back to normal, Derek just needed a break but he would be ok later on. He kept repeating those words in his mind, over and over again.

He glanced to his left, spotting a parking lot, and drove into it. When he stopped, he considered the situation for a second before he heard Gideon's words echoing in his head "Just follow your impulses, sometimes it helps…".

He threw an arm around Morgan's shoulders and dragged him closer, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I'll always be there when you need me"

Morgan took a deep breath and dried the last traces the tears had left on his face; still leaned into Reid, he turned his head, inhaling his partner's scent: cotton, he smelled the scent of Iris too, the flower of faith and wisdom, of hope. He remembered Spencer buying Iris scented bubble bath; he remembered complaining about it too. He swallowed hard and sank in his seat again but he looked quieter, somehow relieved. Everything was still, until…

"Every morning Spencer, every single morning I wake up and thank all the gods that may exist for having you by my side."

Reid was taken aback; he tensed and his eyes widened unnaturally but, as soon as a dark hand leaned on his cheek, he relaxed once again, calmed by the caring gesture. It was hard, yes, it was damn hard to witness moments like this, moments in which they could really show some real affection to each other, express their feelings without having to care about the rest of the world. And those rare, short moments were to be the best memories in their lives.