Warning: This story is rated T for shounen-ai/yaoi/homosexual relationships/whatever TV fanfictions call it and drug use.

Summary: Reid overhears a conversation between Prentiss and Morgan. When he begins acting out due to it, Morgan begins to get worried about his partner. What could have set his Pretty Boy off this time? Set after "Elephant's Memory".

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, the characters, or this song. Also, I don't know if all the statistics are correct, but just go with it. Please? I'll give you cookies? And PLEASE REVIEW!

Sober

Original Song: "Sober" by Pink

I don't wanna be the girl who laughs the loudest.

Or the girl who never wants to be alone.

I don't wanna be that call at 4 o'clock in the morning,

'Cause I'm the only one you know in the world that won't be home.

I reach over the bed, hitting nothing but sheets. I rub my eyes and yawn. "Morgan?"

"Bathroom, Pretty Boy," he replies. I think about moving. Then I think about the pain that would be in my rear and lower back. I sigh and close my eyes again. "What time is it?"

"Don't worry. You don't need to get ready for another half hour."

"How do you know?"

"It takes you twenty minutes to go out the door."

"Twenty-one percent of men take thirty minutes or more to get ready in the morning while thirty-eight percent of women do the same. However―"

"Reid."

"Sorry."

I feel lips on my forehead. I open my eyes and glance up at Morgan as he pulls away. "You're adorable."

My cheeks heat up ever so slightly. My partner doesn't notice it, but I did and bury my face in my pillow. My unbuttoned shirt made me feel better. Morgan liked it when I wore it during sex anyway, so I never needed to convince him to let me keep it on. He might get suspicious. He knows what those red dots mean, but he hasn't seen them. In three months, he's never noticed. And I'm very much grateful.

Oo_oO_Oo_oO

I sit in the corner of the plane, curled up with a book and my headphones. Everyone freaked out when they saw me listening to music, to which I asked why I wouldn't. Apparently it's considered abnormal for a genius to listen to Hollywood Undead, especially with all the crap the BAU already deals with.

The word "drug" catches my attention through the music. I turn off my mp3, but don't remove my headphones or look at Morgan and Prentiss, who sat at the table.

"Weak?" Prentiss asked.

Morgan hesitated. "Yeah. I mean, I know a lot of people don't mean to get hooked, but I think someone has to be weak to not be able to stop or not ask for help."

"But Morgan―"

I turn on my music again, knuckles white against my book. My device sang "Weak" by Seether. "No more love to purchase. I've invested in myself. You know nothing about me. Keep opinions to yourself. No more complications. Everything's just swell. No more obligations. There's nothing more to tell. I just want to be alone.

"When I get weak, or I'm tired and afraid, when I sleep, all my dreams turn out the same. When I bleed, I relieve you of your pain. I can't believe you won't let me do the same."

I close my eyes.

Ah, the sun is blinding.

I stayed up again.

Oh, I am finding,

That's not the way I want my story to end.

I quietly slip out of the bathroom, unnoticed. Everyone was already in the conference room by the time I got there. Morgan smiled. "Hey, Pretty Boy."

"I'm a man, not a boy," I mutter before I sit down, JJ between my partner and me. The females in the room frown and immediately glare at Morgan, to which he shakes his head. Garcia pointed to the screen and gave us a quick rundown of the case.

"So he gets his release from forcing his victims to eat? That's new," Morgan commented.

Garcia grimaced. "And now I have to show you the super icky part."

"He carved words into their backs," Rossi observed. "It's definitely personal. 'Revenge' and 'liar'."

"Maybe the victims worked together and betrayed the unsub in some way?" Prentiss suggested.

"Broken hearts tend to be vengeful," I say.

Morgan glances at me and asks, "But do the victims even know about it?"

"Most backstabbers don't pay attention," I mutter.

Hotch quickly dismisses, "Wheels up in an hour."

oO_Oo_oO_Oo

"Reid―"

He's out of the room, and three women block my exit. Rossi, the only other person in the room, slides behind Prentiss and says, "Have fun."

"Rossi, don't leave me," I try. He closes the door behind him.

"Spill," JJ says. Garcia nods. "What did you do to our baby?"

"I don't know! Honestly!" I say.

"We all know how he gets when he's upset. And everyone knows who he's upset with," Prentiss says.

"Hotch doesn't know."

JJ laughed. "Seriously? Of course, he knows!"

"Yeah, you flirt with him more than you used to," Prentiss adds.

"It's not flirting," I say. Garcia rolls her eyes. "Sure, sure. Now confess!"

"I already told you that I don't know! He was fine three days ago, and I have the scratches on my back to prove it."

"Then that gives me an idea." JJ smiles mischievously, as did Prentiss. Garcia glanced between them, seemingly lost.

Oo_oO_Oo_oO

Prentiss and JJ sit across from me. I glance up from my book. "Yes?"

"We heard you needed nail work." JJ holds up a nail file. "I have training in cosmetology."

I furrow my brow. "Who told you―?" I shake my head. "My nails are fine."

"I'll tell Garcia that you refused," JJ threatened.

"But―"

"Spence."

"I'm not―"

"Spence."

"JJ―"

"Spence."

"Fine," I all but whimper and give her my hand. As JJ filed my nail quietly, Prentiss asked, "So what's up with you and Morgan?"

I narrow my eyes at her. "No offense, Emily, but it's none of your business."

"We're all confused. At least when it was JJ and me, we knew why you were mad."

I'm safe,

Up high.

Nothing can touch me,

But why do I feel this party's over?

No pain,

Inside.

You're my protection.

How do I feel this good sober?

"It's nothing. And trying to get me to talk about it is getting you nowhere." I close my eyes and lean my head against the seat. "Morgan, stop eavesdropping."

"It's a jet. I can't really stay away from you."

"You don't have to sit in the chair behind me and listen to my conversation either."

"Don't make me call Garcia."

"Garcia isn't my mother. And neither are you," I spat.

oO_Oo_oO_Oo

I fall silent. If Reid wants to act like a child, I won't stop him. As if I could stop him if I tried.

Later that night, there's a knock on my hotel door. I blink my eyes open and glance at the clock. Four in the morning. I grab my gun and walk to the door, looking through the peep hole, but when I see who stands on the other side, I let out a breath and open the door.

"I'm still mad at you," Reid said and stared at the ground.

"You woke me up to say that?"

"I got a nightmare," he says. "And even if I'm mad, you're still my partner."

I open the door so he can come in. After I closed the door and set my gun on the nightstand, I slip into the bed next to him. His back was turned to me, and the blankets covered him to his shoulders. I ask, "If I put an arm around you, will you bite my head off?"

"I might. You'll have to find out for yourself."

I slide my arm over his waist and pull his back to my chest. I kiss his neck softly. "Are you going to tell me why you're mad?"

He doesn't reply.

"I take that as a negative?"

"I'm trying to sleep," he muttered. "If you're going to be talkative, I'll go sleep with JJ."

"No, you wouldn't." I frown and slightly tighten my grip on his waist.

"You don't know what I would and wouldn't do."

I sigh. "Reid, please―"

"Goodnight."

After a moment, I nuzzle into his hair. "You know that I love you, right?"

He froze like a kid caught with its hand in a cookie jar.

"Everyone knows that you aren't good with feelings," I say. "That's why I've never said it."

"Or maybe you just don't like the fact that I'm mad so you need something to make me forgive you."

"Or maybe I really am in love with you. And I still don't know why you're mad."

"Figure it out."

"Then give me something to start with. Please!" I close my eyes. As I release Reid and roll over, I hear him mutter, "Ten months."

"What?" I ask.

"That's your starting point."

I don't wanna be the girl who has to fill the silence.

The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth.

Please don't tell me that we had that conversation.

I won't remember.

Save your breath.

'Cause what's the use?

As I glance over the files on the desk, Hotch appears beside me. "Reid."

I look at him. "I thought you were going to interview the family?"

"Rossi and Prentiss are handling that. However, I need to talk to you."

"About what?" I ask. His ever-present frown deepens. "I'm fully aware of the nature of your relationship with Morgan. But if it starts to interfere with work, it will need to stop."

I look away from him. "We've kept it separated from work. I'm sure you've noticed that or you would have mentioned it sooner."

"Yet something about it makes you uncomfortable," he says.

"Hotch, I seriously doubt that you would feel perfectly comfortable talking about a fight you were having with your partner with your boss," I mutter.

"Then talk to Garcia or JJ about it. You won't get anywhere keeping it all balled up. You and I both know that you'll snap at some point."

I can't tell them that I'm using Dilaudid, I thought. "It's my problem, not theirs."

"That wasn't a suggestion. This needs to get resolved."

"Yes, sir," I say.

Once he was gone, I sigh and let my head hit the desk. "Thanks a lot, Hotch."

That night, I sit on my bed and glare at my cell phone. Then I dial.

"Magic Goddess of Technology speaking. Is my Chocolate Milkshake there?"

I sigh. "Sometimes, I wonder if I should be jealous."

"Hi, Reid! What do you need?"

"Hotch told me that I have to talk to you or JJ about my fight with Morgan. I need a new boss."

"Can't help you with the second one, but I'm listening."

"Or I can hang up now and you tell Hotch that we talked?"

"Not a chance, sweetie."

I lie down on my back, running my fingers through my hair. "There's nothing to talk about. I overheard him say something to Prentiss."

"What did he say?"

"Just something that irritated me."

Garcia doesn't say anything for a moment. Then she says, "Okay, it was good talking to you! Bye!"

"Garcia…" I mutter after she hangs up. Hotch, I swear I'm going to get you back for this….

Ah, night is calling,

And it whispers to me softly "Come and play."

Ah, I am falling.

And if I let myself go I'm the only one to blame!

I glance at Prentiss as she talks to someone on the phone. After a moment, she hangs up and looks at me. "That was Garcia. She said that Hotch made Reid call her to talk about the fight you two had. Something you told me ticked him off."

"What?"

"That's what she told me."

I lean back in my chair. "But what on Earth could…?"

I fall silent.

"Morgan? Hello?" Prentiss waves a hand in front of my face.

"I mean, I know a lot of people don't mean to get hooked, but I think someone has to be weak to not be able to stop or not ask for help."

"Was Reid next to us on the plane coming back from Memphis?" I ask. Prentiss furrows her eyebrows and nods. "Yeah. Why?"

I sigh.

Oo_oO_Oo_oO

As soon as he registers who was on the outside of the door, Reid slams the door in my face.

"Reid, I know why you're upset," I say.

Silence.

"I know you're listening."

Silence.

"Is this really something you want me to discuss in a hallway? Anyone could hear. Hotch. Rossi. JJ. Pre―"

The door opens slowly. I step inside and close the door behind me. Reid leaned against the door. "What do you think you know?"

I take a step toward him. My hand caresses his cheek, and he slightly leans into the touch, though reluctantly.

"Show me your arms," I say quietly. Fire ignites in his eyes as he shoves me away. "No, I won't."

"Reid―"

"You don't know me as well as you want to believe, so don't act as if you do."

"So you admit that you're using Dilaudid?" I ask.

He stops and pulls down his sleeves. "I never said that."

When I look at him, he stares at the ground while his hair covered most of his face. After a moment, I step closer to him and take his arm lightly. He doesn't look at me, but when I try to push up his sleeve, he whispers, "Right arm."

So I switch arms and push up the sleeve. Red dots covered the crook of his elbow.

"Can I ask?"

"You can. That doesn't mean I'll answer," he mutters.

"Then why? And what does ten months have to do with it?"

"Ten months was the amount of time I was sober."

He doesn't continue. I pull his sleeve down and tuck his hair behind his ear, only for it to fall back down. When I try again, the same thing happens. Reid smiles slightly. I tilt his chin up to force him to look at me. Chocolate eyes watch mine, and I say, "Your eyes are beautiful. You're too adorable for me to comprehend."

As I knew they would, his cheeks become dusted with pink. "You make me sound like a little boy."

"Aren't you?"

"Shut up." His smile widens. "I'm thirty-one, not fourteen."

"I know that. If you were, I'd be in jail for rape. Not to mention that a fourteen-year-old could never top me."

"So we agree that I'm not a little boy for the sake of your and my masculinity?"

"Sure thing, Pretty Boy."

I'm safe,

Up high.

Nothing can touch me.

But why do I feel this party's over?

No pain,

Inside,

You're like perfection.

How do I feel this good sober?

Morgan sighs and rubs his thumb over my injection site through the fabric of my shirt. I glance down at his hand. "I hate being in the BAU sometimes. It's my family, but I can't…I'm not strong enough to…."

"You've given me a new point of view on the matter of drug addiction," he says. "Our job affects everyone, not just you. I didn't think…I thought you were sober."

I lean my head back against the wall and watch him. This time, he looks away. After a moment, I say, "It's sex, isn't it?"

"What?" He still doesn't look at me.

"Everyone copes differently. The fact that you only had one night stands before me wasn't exactly a secret, but I never considered how often that was."

He glared at the door. "Yeah. I used to sleep around to…forget."

"And you think I'll judge you because of that? Because I don't."

"Reid―"

"I try not to be judgmental towards anyone. I'm obviously not the perfect picture when it comes to staying away from things I should."

"But it changes how you view someone."

"That may be true, but I'm not so naïve that I believe that everyone's perfect. Derek." He looks at me. I rarely use his first name, so when I do, he tends to stop all thought process and focus on me. I continue, "The world is a dollhouse. Just because you don't see what happens inside doesn't mean it's not there. The FBI is the ultimate dollhouse full of broken dolls covered in makeup."

He paused for a moment. Then he nods. "I get the picture. However, I think there's something you need to do."

"Right, because I'm weak."

"Because I love you and Dilaudid isn't the way to go about dealing with our job."

I nod. "I know."

"You know that I love you?"

"I…I-I…well…" I trail off.

"Leave it," he says, not a trace of disappointment in his voice.

"But I wouldn't mind sharing my bed tonight," I invite. Morgan smiles. "I would hate to disappoint my Pretty Boy."

Later that night, I lay my head on Morgan's shoulder and throw an arm over his bare stomach. "Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you know that Hotch knows about…us?"

He pauses. "Not until the girls informed me of it."

"How did you get on that topic?"

"Ah, when you started acting out, they cornered me in the conference room and demanded that I tell them what I had done to make you mad. I believe Garcia's exact words were, 'What did you do to our baby?'"

"I hate being the youngest sometimes," I mutter.

"I don't care how old you are; you're my Pretty Boy."

"And what are you?"

"I'm perfectly content with my first name."

That'll take some getting used to, I thought.

Coming down,

Coming down,

Coming down.

Spinning 'round,

Spinning 'round,

Spinning 'round.

Looking for myself.

Sober!

Coming down,

Coming down,

Coming down.

Spinning 'round,

Spinning 'round,

Spinning 'round.

Looking for myself.

Sober!

"Someone looks happy," JJ says as I sit down across from her and Prentiss. The ravenette nods. "Is World War Reid over?"

I shrug. "For now, I guess. No one really knows with him."

"I second that," JJ, Prentiss, Rossi, and Hotch say in unison.

"Wow, even Hotch was keeping tabs," JJ said.

"It could possibly jeopardize a case," the mentioned man defended.

Rossi says, "However, I think every heart of stone has a tiny bit of brotherly love in it."

"It better be brotherly," I say. "There's a reason he's my Pretty Boy."

"What are you talking about?" said Pretty Boy asked as he entered the plane.

"Nothing," we all say.

He slipped into the seat beside me and put on his headphones. Prentiss glanced between us. "Aren't you the one who always wears headphones?"

"Full of surprises. Besides, he doesn't exactly listen to my kind of music," I say.

"What do you mean?"

Reid passes the headphones to the women, who each lean in to hear the music. They quickly return them, and JJ asks, "What is that?"

"'Hopeless' by Breaking Benjamin," he says as he puts on the headphones again.

"I didn't know that you liked heavy metal," Prentiss said.

"You never asked."

I put a hand between my partner and me and whisper, "He's a bit grumpy. His butt's probably sore."

"Derek, I know exactly what you're telling them, despite how much faith you put in your secrecy," Reid mutters.

"Am I wrong?" I ask, glancing at him. He leans back and closes his eyes. "I never knew that you wanted everyone to know about your sex life."

"You mean our sex life."

"That involves you, if you hadn't noticed."

"No, I definitely noticed."

"Did you notice the fact that Hotch is also gaping at you right now?"

I glance over the seat just as Hotch looks down at his book. When I turn back to Reid, I ask, "How did you know with your eyes closed and music on?"

"My music's off. Besides, he does notice such things."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that."

When it's good,

Then it's good.

It's so good 'till it goes bad.

'Till you're trying to find the you that you once had.

And I've heard myself crying, "Never again!"

Broken down in agony,

Just tryin' to find a friend.

I run my fingers through Reid's hair as he slept against me. Apparently now that he knows Hotch is aware of our relationship, Pretty Boy doesn't care about hiding it. If anything, he flaunts it, though I have no idea why.

As Hotch sits in the chair across from me, I ask, "Are you going to tell me that colleagues can't date?"

"No, I'm not. For all I care, he could kiss you, but it needs to stay within the team."

I smile. "Thank you."

He changes the topic. "I wanted to know if you for sure got whatever it was straightened out."

Reid snuggles closer to me, though I knew he was asleep. His face is really peaceful when he sleeps. I glance down at the head of hair on my chest. "You suspected it all along?"

"I didn't even notice until you two started fighting." Hotch stares at Reid.

"Hotch, you don't really blame yourself for…that?" I ask. He says, "No, but he should have been getting help before now."

Reid's hand grips my t-shirt. "Why are you talking about me while I'm asleep? Hotch, if you need to talk to me, talk to me, not my partner."

"Then tell me, how long have you been using Dilaudid?"

"About five months."

"And when we get back to Quantico, do you plan to get help?"

"Yes."

His eyes stayed closed, but his breathing was shallow and his hands shook. I play with his hair some more in hopes of calming him. Hotch nods and stands.

oO_Oo_oO_Oo

Three months later….

When the elevator opens, I'm immediately on high alert in the darkness save for a few candles. Lavender? No…jasmine. My favorite. I reach for my gun.

"Reid!" A long-nailed hand grabs my arm. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Garcia, if you hadn't grabbed my arm, I would have pointed my gun at your head!"

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" she apologized.

"It's fine. Why are the lights out?"

"It's a surprise!"

I roll my eyes, but don't question it. Her arm loops around mine. "Follow me, child."

"Not a child," I mutter. She ignores me and leads me through the open door. The candles created a path. We walked between them, a warm glow cast on the desks and chairs. The path took us up the stairs and to the conference room. When the door opens, the lights come on.

"Surprise!"

I smile at my team. "Um…am I missing something?"

Morgan takes a red rose from behind his back and hands it to me. "Three months sober and our six month anniversary. Did our resident genius not remember that?"

"Yes, I remembered, but I didn't expect…" I toss the rose onto the table and launch myself into his arms. When I crush my lips against his, he freezes for a moment before he reciprocates the kiss, and he smirks as I slip my tongue into his mouth.

When Hotch clears his throat, we break apart, my cheeks hot. "S-sorry, sir."

I'm safe,

Up high.

Nothing can touch me.

But why do I feel this party's over?

No pain,

Inside,

You're like perfection.

How do I feel this good sober?

I'm safe,

Up high.

Nothing can touch me.

But why do I feel this party's over?

No pain,

Inside,

You're like perfection.

Hotch doesn't say anything. As everyone sits around the table for jell-o and cupcakes, I tell Morgan, "I never really pegged you as the six month anniversary kind of guy."

"I planned to take you to dinner, but I let it slip to Baby Girl, and you can see what happened," he said with a smile.

"Well, thank you. All of you," I say.

Oo_oO_Oo_oO

The next morning, I wake up to an empty bed. I frown before I hear the water running in the bathroom. After I get up and knock, Morgan calls, "Come in!"

A minute later, I slip behind the curtain next to him. We only started showering together after a…"long night" a week or two ago, so needless to say, I still felt a bit self-conscious. However, Morgan didn't seem to care one bit about showing off his body. There's a reason for that. He has five times more muscle than I do, probably more.

"Good morning." He slipped his arms around my waist and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I reply, "Good morning."

He frowns as I pull away and wet my hair.

"Why are you in such a bad mood?" he asks.

"I'm not."

"Pretty Boy."

"Derek."

"You know, if you don't like showering together, you can just tell me."

I sigh and grab my shampoo. "It's not that."

I expected a "then what is it", but he simply stepped out of the shower. With a frown, I cross my arms over my chest as the water rinsed the shampoo from my hair, allowing myself to pout in frustration. After a moment, I say, "I asked my…friend about the injection scars. He…he said that they'll fade to a certain extent, but not completely."

Morgan paused. "It's not like you wear short-sleeves anyway."

I fall silent. I guess he doesn't understand. Not surprising.

But once I get my clothes on, Morgan tackles me onto the bed. I frown. "What the heck?"

He kisses the end of my nose. "I don't care if the scars never go away. You're beautiful regardless."

I turn my face away from his as he continues, "I love you, Spencer Reid. Scars and quirks won't change that."

"There's a reason it's a 'quirk'. A weird name for a weird thing."

"I never liked normal anyways." I can hear him smiling, and his hand combed my hair. "I love your long hair, dark chocolate eyes, scars, and twig-thin body, including your skinnier than average legs."

"Actually, most men have skinny legs to begin with, but eating habits and working out add width," I state.

"And I love your random statistics, especially when you're nervous or uncomfortable. Even when you're mad, you're adorable in a childish way."

"I'm not childish!"

"And you're also adorable when you pout."

I bite my lip to stop it from poking out too much. Morgan kisses my cheek. "I love you in general."

Obviously not expecting a reply, he moved off of me and walked towards the living room. I whisper, "I…I love you, too."

He pauses for a second before he continues out of the room. I smile and stand to follow him.

How do I feel this good sober?