![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
[21-Jul-2021] [Criminal Minds] The Best You Could
Title: The Best You Could
Day/Prompt: 21-July-2021
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Character/Pairing: Reid/Morgan
Rating/Warning(s): Gen, references to death,
"You know, they'll never be the same after this." Reid murmurs, staring at the family, catching the beat of the deafening flat-line earlier.
Sometimes, they don't make it there before the bad guys. It's easy to see that, even now, one by one, their heads are turning and looking over their shoulders at them. At him. Each second seems like a decade as he watches himself get escorted out by the lingering warmth, faced with screams, while the killers hide behind bulletproof glass and armed guards.
"I know." Morgan claps his shoulder, then frowns. "But they've got closure."
He stares down at his hands, ones that weren't fast enough, and says, "I know."
The grip on his shoulder firms, and Morgan shakes him harsher than he means to. Reid knows expecting someone to say the magical words to make it all go away is ridiculous, and Morgan couldn't even if he wanted to, but it's comforting to hear his deep voice lull the wail of sirens to peace. They should have been able to stop it. They could have stopped it.
"We don't always get happy endings. No matter what we do, sometimes there's just some sicko bad enough to beat us. You know this, kid." Morgan says as he looks off into the distance, "but sometimes, we do. It's just all the more reason to treasure our victories more."
He stays affixed to Reid, all warmth and steadiness. They aren't magical words, not enough to make the burn of inadequacy fade, but they're real and tangible and true enough to remind him, again, that he did the best he could.
Day/Prompt: 21-July-2021
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Character/Pairing: Reid/Morgan
Rating/Warning(s): Gen, references to death,
"You know, they'll never be the same after this." Reid murmurs, staring at the family, catching the beat of the deafening flat-line earlier.
Sometimes, they don't make it there before the bad guys. It's easy to see that, even now, one by one, their heads are turning and looking over their shoulders at them. At him. Each second seems like a decade as he watches himself get escorted out by the lingering warmth, faced with screams, while the killers hide behind bulletproof glass and armed guards.
"I know." Morgan claps his shoulder, then frowns. "But they've got closure."
He stares down at his hands, ones that weren't fast enough, and says, "I know."
The grip on his shoulder firms, and Morgan shakes him harsher than he means to. Reid knows expecting someone to say the magical words to make it all go away is ridiculous, and Morgan couldn't even if he wanted to, but it's comforting to hear his deep voice lull the wail of sirens to peace. They should have been able to stop it. They could have stopped it.
"We don't always get happy endings. No matter what we do, sometimes there's just some sicko bad enough to beat us. You know this, kid." Morgan says as he looks off into the distance, "but sometimes, we do. It's just all the more reason to treasure our victories more."
He stays affixed to Reid, all warmth and steadiness. They aren't magical words, not enough to make the burn of inadequacy fade, but they're real and tangible and true enough to remind him, again, that he did the best he could.