-Insert cliché disclaimer here-

It was safe to assume that, since he was old enough to understand it himself, Spencer Reid had a problem with abandonment. Not many people would be willing to call it an issue, but considering all that he'd been through, all the people that had walked out on him when he had just grown to call them family…

Well, Reid considered it one.

He called it a little more than an issue. In fact, he classified it as a phobia.

Phobia.

He mulled that word in his head thousands of times (more like millions) His father, leaving him alone to deal with his schizophrenic mother, who often times had no idea who her adolescent son even was, happened to be the first of many people to leave the poor genius high and dry.

High school was, without a doubt, a long sequence of stand-ups and disappointments. Kids were very cruel to those who they knew were different, especially smarter.

He thought college would be better, but it wasn't. An eidetic memory came in handy in his career days, but to an abused child it was pure hell.

It was amazing how wrong adults could be when voicing the idea that "maturity comes with age." It was quite the opposite, actually.

Tormenting continued through Reid's freshmen courses….then sophomore. Junior. Finally, graduation day arrived. It felt like years when he got his first diploma, even if it were only a handful of months.

But, a good thing about the human mind is its ability to adapt. Once a body has been pushed so far for so many years, it develops an immunity.

Spencer Reid was unable to be pushed any farther now. No matter how cruel, hurtful, or angry the young-adults around him became as he worked his way through college for the third time, he was never affected.

No longer did he cry himself to sleep in his home, his mother in the next room smoldering in her temporary state of mind, while he silently questioned what god he had angered to deserve the life he lived.

For a while, he was happy. Finally, he could focus a hundred percent on his schoolwork, continuing to claw his way to his destination: the BAU.

And then, after getting his hands on a third degree, going through rigorous training, signing multiple papers, and meeting an army of different people, he finally walked the halls of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

He could never have done it without the guidance of Jason Gideon, the only man who ever came close to something Reid could call a father.

Gideon introduced him to all the people he would work with for the next two years:

Elle Greenwood, the sisterly woman who would joke with him and show him the ways of a gun without injuring himself.

Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief who acted more as a helpful mentor than a boss.

Jennifer Jereau, the blonde girl who was quick on her feet and able to bring a smile to his face no matter how melancholy his day was.

Penelope Garcia, the hilarious chick in the broom-closet room who shared his love of geeky things and could make him laugh any time of any day.

And then there was Derek Morgan…

He was the closest thing to a best friend Spencer had ever had. From the moment they had met, on his first day on the job, Reid knew he could always turn to Morgan for support and a little brotherly advice.

In fact, that's just what he did when Elle left them.

Reid could not remember the last time he had cried that much. In fact, he couldn't even remember the journey to Morgan's home. He could only recall being soaking wet with rain. Or were they tears? Surely he hadn't done that much crying…

Reid had his head buried deep in Morgan's chest. His skinny fingers clung desperately to the thin fabric of the darker mans shirt, afraid he might disappear if he let go.

In the predicament he was in, the way Reid was reacting, Morgan would not have labeled Reid's problem as a small issue, either.

He would be dismayed to call his little brother's issue a phobia as well.

Reid's crying eventually subsided, dying down to small hiccups and sniffles, as Morgan continued to run his finders through the curly hair and rub reassuring circles on his back.

"Please," Spencer began, trying to keep his voice even through the silent tears. "Please, promise you won't ever leave me…"

The proposal broke Derek's heart. The sight he took in made tears almost spring to his strong-willed eyes as well. This wasn't a man—no, nowhere near it.

This was a small child, broken and fearful of being left alone.

It was then Morgan threw away his fear, or anything else that left him hesitant of what Reid's reaction might be, and did what he had thought about doing from the moment the thin genius had walked into the bullpen of the BAU.

A chocolate-skinned hand glided across pale white flesh, across Reid's cheek, and lifted hazel eyes to look into darker brown ones.

Morgan kissed Reid's slightly chapped lips then, softy at first as he coaxed a reaction. Then, he probed Reid's mouth with such ferocity that the younger man beneath him whimpered and moaned.

Morgan broke the kiss after a moment, both men breathless, and looked down at the wide-eyed agent beneath him. His lips were still parted, his button-up shirt slightly askew, and damp hair clinging tightly to his forehead and the sides of his face.

It was then, as his heart rate sped up at the sight, Morgan decided he could not leave this kid by himself. He couldn't let Reid continue to face the evils of the world alone any longer.

His strong arms wrapped around Reid's shivering form as tightly as they could without hurting him, and chuckled slightly before answering:

"I won't ever leave you, Pretty Boy." A bit more constriction ensued after the words, adding emphasis and closing the fraction of a centimeter distance between them. "I promise."

Morgan could feel Reid's body relax against his own after that, and a breath he had most likely been holding was finally released.

That night, Spencer thanked God for his eidetic memory. He loved being able to think back to that night. Being able to remember the feel of Morgan's tongue on his own, the powerful smell of Aqua Velva, and the unshaven stubble on his chin rubbing against Reid's sensitive cheek.

It took a while for him to get used to the office without Elle there, but eventually he met Emily Prentiss, and the hole in his heart felt full again.

At least, for a little while.

After the events of Tobias Hankel and the needle that was forcedly shoved into his veins, he was distant, quiet, and just not the same. Everyone on the team noticed, and each wanted to approach him in an attempt to sooth his ragged thoughts.

But they all knew him well enough, and thought it would be best for him to battle his demons alone. Even when Reid came in for work, eyes focused off somewhere no one else could see, or when the dark bags under his eyes became far too noticeable, no one said a thing.

Except Morgan, of course; there is only so much suffering a person could watch another go through.

Two months after the tragedy in Georgia, he had the tourniquet around his arm, a full needle in his hand, and a growling need when he heard a knock on his door.

The doorbell had been broken for far longer than he cared too remember, still having not gotten around to calling his landlord about getting it fixed. Small tasks like that just seemed to swim away from him during those days.

Spencer looked through the peephole of the door and immediately recognized the back of Derek Morgan's leather jacket. He was staring off into the street somewhere, obviously waiting for a reply to his knock.

He unlocked the door and slid the bolts into place, and within seconds was pinned against the wall by a very large and very Reid-hungry Morgan.

He barely had time to yelp when Morgan's lips were on his own and the older mans tongue was forcing him into submission and gliding across Reid's teeth. Soon their tongues wrestled for dominance, and the genius quickly lost with a needy sigh.

Morgan's large, calloused hands slid over Reid's thin hips, up his flat stomach as his T-shirt momentarily went along for the ride, and up his arms until Morgan's left hand rested on the tight tourniquet.

Reid bit his lip, cursing himself mentally for forgetting about the obvious sign of his addiction. How could he have forgotten to take it off before he opened the door!

With a scowl Morgan loosened the item, allowing blood to flow normally through the thin arm, and it fell to the floor with a loud thump. Reid's arm twitched a few times as he began to register the limb again; he had not noticed it had fallen asleep.

"No more of this, okay?"

Reid did not even try to acknowledge what had just happened and that Morgan was aware of his addiction, but only of the thumb that traced over his cheek. He very quickly realized that he had been crying.

A few more kisses were placed on his lips before Morgan pushed the younger man harder against the wall; bodies rubbed together feverishly and they were quickly discovering the others needs.

Reid let out a small moan when Morgan found the delicate buttons of his shirt, and dark lips traced every inch of skin before moving down lower.

And lower…

The two never even made it to the bedroom. Morgan stripped his coworker down right in the doorway, stopping only to make sure he wasn't moving into unwanted territory—that he was not forcing himself onto Reid.

When all signs were go, Morgan unleashed what could only be called two years of pent up sexual energy and urges. Reid's head span as he gripped the wall behind him and held on for dear life, back slipping on the wet floor (you can imagine why) and fingers clawing desperately at Morgan's muscled shoulders.

He yelped, screamed, and babbled his needs almost incoherently as he neared his point. For the first time in his life, his mind shut down completely. All statistics, facts, ideas, and thoughts left him as he focused his full attention to the stimuli his best friend gave him.

Morgan's hands groped, stroked, and pinched his most sensitive of flesh, pushing Spencer as close to the edge as he could. And soon, the genius was groaning and mewling and twitching and grasping for support as an orgasm he never before experienced ripped through him and he collapsed against his tiled floor.

It was not long before the older man did the same. Reid felt Morgan push into him one final time before he felt a warm flow engulf him on the inside and he was pulled into a tight, convulsing hug.

In seconds, Reid's appetite for dilaudid was forgotten, emptied out of him as his needs were quickly replaced with Derek. As a thick layer of sweat covered their bodies and dripped off the two, Reid eventually caught his breath and returned the kind embrace Morgan was dealing him.

"Thank you," he huffed as he buried his head into Morgan's shoulder. And again, tears streaked his cheeks.

A hand stroked his brown, wet locks. A kiss was placed on his forehead. "Promise me you won't put yourself through that anymore."

It was obvious what he was talking about, but Morgan was right: he couldn't rely on the drugs any longer. No matter how badly he wanted to escape reality and his mind, it was still wrong. It all sounded so cliché, like something out of a TLC* special.

Spencer nodded his head, even as it was tightly pressed against Derek.

"Promise me." He said sternly, the hand twisted in his hair and pressed him tighter against his slick skin.

After a moment and several sniffles, Reid complied: "I promise…"

They stayed like that for a while; maybe hours before Spencer fell into the calmest sleep he could manage since his kidnapping. Somehow he wound up in his bed, dressed in his pajama bottoms and still entangled with Morgan.

Of course, one of the most important things you learn in high school, especially if you have had the life of a child genius, is that good things usually come to an end.

The phobia once again reared its ugly head when Reid held that piece of paper in his shaking hands. It was the last thing Gideon had ever said to him, and they were not even logical words. Not even a moment he could hold with him the rest of his life.

For a second time, the man who showed Spencer attention, love, respect, and gave him a nurturing push was gone from his life forever.

As he sat on the bed in the middle of his dark apartment, rereading the letter over and over again to himself, his mind finally snapped. Without thinking it through, his fingers began to crumble the delicate paper, and finally the room was filled with the sounds of tearing and angry grunts.

Reid stood, breath heavy from silent tears and rage, and stared down at the pile of shredded words and heartfelt lies.

He wiped his wrist against his dripping eyes before settling back down onto the bed, but not before giving the pile of rubbish a good kick with his bare foot. As the ceiling fan sent the torn pieces fluttering around the room, Spencer curled himself into as tight of a ball as he could in the center of his bed, and did his best to keep the tears at bay.

He had cried enough, he decided. Now, all he wanted to do was sleep.

As Reid tried to focus only on the feel of his pillow against his cheek and the cold chills that rushed up his spine, he barely registered the dip of his mattress.

Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the familiar musk just as a large hand took hold of his shoulder and flipped him onto his back. Dark eyes met his, and Derek Morgan's arms pulled him to his chest just before placing butterfly kisses from Spencer's forehead, nose, and chin.

Reid did not even care to ask how Derek had gotten inside, but had an idea that he would be replacing his door soon. Instead, he let his mind linger on the lips that pressed against his own and relaxed into the arms that cradled him.

"Why are you here?" Reid finally asked as Morgan released his swollen mouth. It was a question of pure surprise, because he knew why Derek had come. He just needed to hear the words himself.

Morgan smiled and rested his chin inside Spencer's messy hair. "I promised you I'd never leave."

Blinking back tears, and with a content sigh, Reid wrapped his arms around Morgan's shoulders.

And it was there, with his legs almost dangling off his bed, arms going numb from holding onto the larger man for so long, and fighting sleep until three in the morning, did Spencer finally dismiss his phobia. His mind did not wander back to the many other instances of his life where he wished things were different, and faces of all those who abandoned him did not mingle behind his eyelids.

For the first time, Reid held on to the present moment, and he wasn't afraid.

"Fears are educated into us, and can, if we wish, be educated out."

-Karl Augustus Menninger

*TLC – for the people who don't know: this is a station that specializes in mostly showing people with strange/dangerous problems…such as drug addictions.

Thought about adding more to this…But that ending really tugged my heart strings, so I'll just let it alone.

But anyways: Ta-da! A fanfic that's 80% explanation and 20% dialogue! My specialty…I suppose.

Thank you for reading!