Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.
Summary: Out of all the things this job put him through, he found that listening to her cry out in pain was one of the worst experiences he'd ever had. MorganPrentiss, set during Minimal Loss, oneshot
This is just something I got the idea for while watching "Minimal Loss." I've never really written a MorganPrentiss fic before, but I figured why not try it? This fic isn't gonna be too long, just a little introspective into Morgan's mind while Prentiss is getting the snot beat outta her by Creepy Cult Guy Cyrus. Anyway, enjoy!
Morgan doesn't take too well to being useless.
He always likes to be in the center of the action, doing something to help people - though it usually involved tackling someone, or kicking down doors. When he wasn't able to help anyone, especially the people who needed it at the moment, he felt an undeniable sense of helplessness that smothered every other emotion.
So, when he found out that Reid and Prentiss had been taken hostage in Cyrus's compound, he knew he had to do something to help.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the kind of time that he could go around kicking down doors or tackling anyone or anything of that sort - those actions would surely get him and his comrades killed, as well as the other people in the sect.
This kind of situation involved a lot of waiting around. Strategic planning. Any wrong move could send the wrong message and then the whole group of people were done for, a tragedy that could have been avoided.
Morgan found himself getting stir crazy, his foot tapping against the floor whenever he sat down. His fingers tapping on random surfaces. His posture indicating someone who obviously didn't like the situation he'd been put in, didn't like the fact that he was out of his comfort zone, and most of all, didn't like the fact that his two friends were in there, alone. Without even a gun for support.
His chest felt particularly tight, as he imagined what must be going on around Reid and Prentiss. When Rossi came back from having a little "visit" with Cyrus, he said that the two of them were alright. That nothing had happened to them.
Though that information kept all of the anxiety at bay for a little while, the fact that Morgan himself hadn't been able to see them with his own eyes, to check and see if they were okay, burrowed its way through him.
Then, came the news report.
Some idiotic reporter got the story that one of the people sent into the compound was an undercover FBI agent. At least he only said one, because who knew what would've happened if he found out that both of them were working for the federal government.
Over the headphones, Morgan could hear the leader of the sect question both Reid and Prentiss about who it was. Something must have happened involving Reid, because Prentiss admitted, "It's me."
Morgan felt himself stiffen as he heard the sounds of her struggle. There was a sound of dragging, and her grunts as he slid her back into another room. Well, that was what it had sounded like to him. The mind plays cruel tricks on people when there is nothing left to go on except sound.
He could hear her being dragged across the floor, and then a door slamming shut.
The sounds of her grunting in pain as Cyrus did Lord knows what to her. From the sounds of it, it definitely wasn't good.
There were the sounds of her smashing into things - walls, the floor, even the crashing sound of breaking glass, which caused him to get sick to his stomach.
He tried to listen, he heard her defiant, "I can take it."
At the time, he only thought Prentiss was antagonizing him even more, but Rossi calmed him down, saying that she actually meant for them to not come in just because of her - she could take it.
That was followed by even more yelps and cries of pain, up until the point Morgan couldn't take it anymore. He slung his headphones out of anger and frustration and disgust against the table, not being able to endure the sounds of Prentiss being attacked.
What Morgan knew, however, was that Prentiss had sacrificed her own health to protect Reid. It was something that touched him, created a strange warmth in the recesses of his chest. He knew if he were in Prentiss's situation, he would have done the exact same thing. He found it heroic and selfless. She knew what Cyrus was capable of doing, yet she didn't care because Reid was in danger - possibly more so than she was.
He admired her for that.
Hours later, he gave Prentiss the time that they were coming into the compound to get as many people out as they could. Three in the morning. They stormed into the place, eager to get this whole ordeal over and done with, and Morgan found himself more and more anxious to get Prentiss and Reid out of there.
When he saw her there, looking so fragile and beaten, the expanse of one side of her face taken up by a large, darkening bruise, and blood on her shirt, he felt an extreme protectiveness surge through him.
He told her desperately to get out of there, to follow everyone to safety, but she was worried, frantic, saying, "No, we've got to get Reid!"
That was when Morgan went into overdrive. Prentiss relayed the facts of Reid's location to him, and he was off, intent on rescuing his friend from this bastard who had slung Prentiss around like a rag doll.
He couldn't save everyone. Just when he had shot the leader of all this mess - and he felt a strange sense of relieved satisfaction by doing so - his too-young "wife" came out and grabbed the detonator. Reid yelled at them to run, and he did, flinging himself out of the door just after the skinny genius, putting Reid's safety above his own.
The heat of the explosion was unbearable, as was the sound that seemed to puncture his eardrums. But they made it out of there safely - except for the girl. It was awful seeing the look on that mother's face, knowing that if it were any different, he would have saved her, but there simply wasn't enough time…
Morgan moved his line of vision to the wounded and trembling Prentiss, who looked exasperatedly relieved to see Reid. They met each other and embraced, a gentle, comforting show of affection. That lasted for a while, several long, drawn out minutes, before Reid went to Rossi and Hotch to explain what had happened.
She stood there looking slightly catatonic, her eyes empty except for key traces of sadness and pain at her wounds. Morgan walked smoothly over to her, and wrapped the poor brunette in his arms, bringing her close - she smelled of the faint traces of her strawberry shampoo, the dirt of the floor in the compound, and the salty aroma of sweat. He brought her close into his body, and pressed his face into her matted locks.
"I'm glad you're alright, Emily." He used her first name as a comforting device, inhaling around her thick mass of hair.
A chuckle, weak and tired, came from her throat, "Yeah? Me too."
He found himself laughing lightly as well, most likely out of the slightly building hysteria that had been upon him all day, and pulled her as close as he could without causing her wounds to irritate her.
After that, the two just stood there, reveling in the fact that they had made it out alive, reveling in each other.
Out of all the possible things that could have happened, Morgan decided it wasn't a bad way to end the day.
My first attempt at writing this pairing. I'm usually more of a MorganGarcia kind of gal myself, but I just discovered that I really like these two together, so I thought I'd attempt that. And, while watching this episode, this idea just wouldn't come out of my mind, so I decided to write it.
Anyway, thanks so much for reading! I'd love to hear from y'all!