Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters are fictional and not a depiction of their portrayers.

Summary: The team succeeds in freeing Reid and Hotchner from a mad man, but their survival comes with a price.

Pairing: Morgan/Reid established.

Warning: Alluded non-con.

Notes: This is not meant to take place during a specific season. Gideon makes an appearance because he is one of my favorite characters. Apologies for any OOC behavior or vague information - emotions and psychology are more important to me than facts. I have very limited knowledge of the FBI and the medical field.

Sacrifice

Derek Morgan had only felt true, crushing devastation twice in his life.

The first was when his father had been killed back in Chicago when he was 10 years old – an event he had never fully recovered from and a memory that still woke him in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.

The second was this night, an ice-cold, starless evening in December, when the team finally found the unsub they had been pursuing…the one with a penchant for young men and unspeakable acts of violence…the one who had captured Spencer Reid and Aaron Hotchner three days ago.

There was no doubt in Derek's mind that Spencer had been the target – Hotch had only been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And Derek would never stop kicking his own ass for not being there when it mattered most.

They found the two men in the basement of a disheveled ranch house in the back roads of Virginia, Hotch chained by an ankle to a corner of the room, and Spencer - his baby boy, the man who meant everything to him - naked, covered in blood and chained hand a foot to a metal-framed bed.

Derek had taken one look at the young agent and felt his world bottom out. The moments that followed were a blur of fear, anger, and a struggle to stay calm, but he remembered vaguely that someone with a key appeared and released the young man from his restraints. Derek took a blanket that was offered to him with trembling hands, and he pulled Spencer up into his arms, wrapping it tightly around his listless form. It was everything he could do not break down screaming in rage as he cradled his precious burden close, murmuring nonsense words of comfort as the young man cried quietly against his chest. He carried him out to the waiting ambulance where two EMTs – a man and a woman – were waiting with a stretcher.

He handed him over to their care, unwilling to let go.

He couldn't have said where the others were, who had the unsub in custody, or how Hotch was doing. Spencer was the only thing that mattered. The rest of the team would understand.

"I'm going with him," Derek said in a tone that brooked no argument.

The female EMT ushered him into the ambulance and Derek maneuvered himself onto a bench near where Spencer's head lay. The young man's dirt and blood covered face was streaked with tears that continued to fall even in his semi-conscious state. He captured Spencer's left hand in his own and brought it to his mouth, kissing the scraped knuckles and closing his eyes, thanking God for a miracle.

The EMT slammed the back doors closed and they sped off toward the hospital, the siren blaring. After a moment, Spencer's eyes opened but remained heavy lidded, glancing up at Derek through tear-spiked lashes. He sniffed hard, the wetness still seeping from his eyes.

Derek laid a hand on the younger man's forehead, stroking gently over the soft, blood soaked hair in a slow rhythm. He leaned down until his face was hovering over Spencer's, making sure he was in view.

"Shhh...it's ok, baby boy. Everything's ok now. I've got you. It's all over."

Spencer swallowed hard. "Derek? I'm…I'm c-cold…"

"You've lost a lot of blood, young man," the male EMT chimed in from where he was sitting on Spencer's other side, taking his pulse from a slack arm. "We'll need to give you a transfusion as soon as we get to the hospital."

Spencer didn't move his teary gaze from where it rested on Derek's eyes. His face began to scrunch up, his jaw trembling. "Derek," he mumbled thickly, tears beginning to fall in earnest again. "I'm - I'm sorry…I'm s-so sorry…"

"Hey…hey!" Derek squeezed the young man's hand tightly. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. You hear me? None of this was your fault."

Spencer's eyes squeezed shut tight and he let out a gasping sob that shook his thin frame. "Please don't be mad at Hotch," he begged, his voice a thin whine.

Derek stopped stroking Spencer's forehead for a second, but resumed almost immediately, fighting to keep his emotions in check and his voice even. "Why would I be mad at Hotch, baby?"

Spencer continued to cry quietly – brokenly. "He didn't want to do it," he managed, his voice still high with grief. "But he was going kill us. He had to. He didn't want to, but he had to, and I told him it was ok. He tried to find another way, but he couldn't, and he was going kill us, and I was so scared, and I just wanted you to find us, but I knew it was the only way so I told Hotch to do it." He was rambling now, almost hysterical.

"Shhhh…Spence you need to calm down for me, baby. Take deep breaths." His heart was thudding in his chest as he realized what Spencer was trying to tell him…what it was that Hotch had been forced to do. He wanted to scream…vomit…punch something as hard as he could. But that wouldn't do Spencer any good, and that's all that mattered right now: Spencer. So Derek kept his composure and his voice calm and soothing, knowing the man he loved had already been through enough. He had feared this very thing, yes – but not in the way it had transpired.

Spencer choked on another sob and sniffled, his cheeks a constant stream of wetness. "P-please don't be mad at Hotch," he begged again. "I told him it was ok. He had to do it. Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad at Hotch, baby. I promise. I know he did what he had to do to keep the two of you alive. The only person I'm mad at is Kensington, for what that sick bastard put you through."

Spencer sniffled again and opened bleary eyes to look at Derek again. His face took on a look of such devastation and agony it broke Derek's heart. "I'm sorry," he mouthed, the works barely audible. "Derek I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Shhhh…" Derek leaned down and kissed Spencer's forehead, the younger man trembling beneath him. When he lifted his head, Spencer once again had his eyes closed and was crying with breathy sobs.

"P-please don't h-hate me…"

"I don't hate you, baby boy. I could never hate you. Never. Never. You're everything to me."

"I w-wanted it t-to be you. I w-wanted it to be w-with you just like we p-planned."

Derek was close to tears now himself, his throat closing up tightly and the back of his eyes burning. "I know, sweetheart, I know. It's ok. We're going to be ok. I don't blame you for anything. I love you so much, baby."

A long moment passed of Spencer crying softly, his eyes still shut. Then he whispered something so low Derek could barely hear it. "It…hurt."

That was enough to push Derek over the edge, and he could feel the tears spill from his eyes and make their way down his cheeks. He leaned down further, his face only inches from Spencer's. "I'm so sorry, baby…I'm so sorry… It shouldn't have happened like that."

"I t-tried really hard to be b-brave."

"You are brave, sweetheart."

"B-but I was so s-scared, and it hurt, and I just w-wanted you to find me."

"I'm here now, baby. I found you." Not soon enough, he thought sullenly to himself. "We're going to get through this, Spence. I'm not going anywhere. You have me with you, ok?"

Spencer opened his eyes again and looked at Derek's for a moment, two pairs of teary eyes meeting. "Y-you promise you're not m-mad?"

"I promise, baby. I swear."

Spencer reached up feebly with his right hand, the one not captured tightly in Derek's grip, and placed it on the older agent's cheek before it feel limply back down to the cot. "I love you, Derek."

"I love you too, Spencer. I love you so much. I was so scared I had lost you. All that matters to me is that I have you back. That's all that matters."

He leaned down and captured Spencer's mouth with his own, kissing him gently.

He laid his forehead against the younger man's for a moment, fingers twining in the soft locks of hair. When he raised his head again he saw that Spencer's eyes were closed but the crying had ceased. He looked too still, and Derek shot a frantic glance at the EMTs across from him. "He's passed out," the woman said. "It's ok, sir. It was only the stress and panic keeping him awake. It's better he rest."

Derek nodded and looked back down at the young, frail man, resisting the urge to grab him up in his arms and never let go. If he could pull Spencer's pain into himself simply by holding him, he would do it in a heartbeat.

"We're almost at the hospital, sir," the EMT continued. "We'll need to take him to ICU as soon as we arrive, but you'll be notified the moment you can see him."

Derek nodded, not moving his gaze from the pale face, but thankful for the consideration. In his experience medical professionals were not always so sensitive.

When the ambulance slowed to a stop the EMTs opened the door and Derek unwillingly let go of Spencer's hand. "I'll be with you again soon, baby boy," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere." He stepped out of the vehicle, leaving the medical staff to take care of the younger agent.

He looked down at the vest he hadn't bothered to remove and realized it was covered in blood. Spencer's blood. It made him want to cry all over again.

When he looked up he saw Gideon helping Hotch out of a car. He had a cut above one eyebrow and his clothes were dirty, but other than that he looked relatively unscathed. Derek knew that wasn't true, even if there was no physical evidence.

He made his way across the parking lot, his paces long and deliberate, hands in his pockets. As he reached the two men he could see them both freeze, Hotch's gaze holding unfathomable guilt and grief. Gideon stepped forward. "Derek…" he said softly, ready to intervene.

Derek ignored him. "Hotch," he said, his voice even.

"Derek…I…I'm so sorry."

Derek shook his head. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice hollow. "I know what you did…what you had to do. I know you didn't have a choice."

Hotch nodded slowly, his brows knit together, despair written clearly on his face.

"Thank you," Derek said again. "For keeping him alive."

Without waiting for a response he turned on his heel and made his way to the emergency room doors, preparing himself for the wait until he could see Spencer again.

And the longer wait until they were – both of them – healed.

End