AU Meme | bradmajors asked: Morgan/Reid, Morgan is Reid’s NA sponsor
Derek Morgan, addiction to sleep medication, clean for five years. Before Reid joined the BAU, before he knew him. Then he remembers Morgan’s admission of nightmares, of trying to sleep and seeing the eyes of the dead, and suddenly it’s not that much of a surprise. The surprise is definitely that Morgan is in the first Beltway Clean Cops meeting he decides to go to, and that by the way people interact with him, it’s clear he’s a regular.
He has a million feelings, and the ones that he resents are the anger and sense of betrayal festering in him. If Morgan had lived this, if he knew the signs, where had he been when Reid was in the grips of addiction? Why hadn’t he said anything?
Reid hasn’t spoken, as new members are permitted to forgo talking in their first meeting; he’d planned to, but seeing Morgan has knocked him for six. The anger dissipates when Morgan approaches him in the social portion of the meeting.
“Do you need me to go?” Reid asks immediately, because he feels like he’s intruding. There are more than 58,000 establish NA groups in 131 countries around the world, there had to be a few more in Virginia he could choose from. Not many like this, though; no 12 steps, no conversion, no reliance on God, secular recovery.
“No,” Morgan says, soft and kind. “I’m glad to see you.”
“You knew?” The question comes out before Reid can think better of it, and he crosses his arms across his chest.
“I suspected,” Morgan admits. “But then you got better.”
“I stopped,” he said, and he can’t help the smile, because he’s proud of himself. Morgan returns the look, reaches out and puts a hand on Reid’s upper arm. “But I’m… the literature calls it craving.”
Morgan nods knowingly. “The coffee here’s not bad. C’mon.”
They talk. Morgan got dependent on pills to help him sleep, to help him sleep through the nightmares. After almost a year he forced himself to go cold turkey when symptoms got so bad he couldn’t hide them any more, and withdrawal was difficult and protracted. Reid doesn’t share as much, and Morgan doesn’t push; he says opening up comes with time.
“I came to an NA meeting because I think I need help to stay clean,” Reid admits, leant on the hood of Morgan’s car after the meeting’s over.
“It’s a good call. If you need more one-on-one support, you might want to ask someone to be your sponsor, once you’ve been to a few meetings.”
“Can I ask you?” Reid says, as if he’s half-joking, when he’s not at all. It gives Morgan an out, anyhow, he can just laugh and dismiss the statement.
“They suggest your sponsor is someone you didn’t know prior to NA.” Morgan’s watching him levelly, and hasn’t dismissed him outright.
“Yeah, I’m sure all of those people would be good sponsors,” he says carefully, “but our job is different from cops. None of them are going to understand it like you do, understand this like you do. They don’t see what we do.”
Morgan watches him for what seems like forever, the same intense gaze he seems to find fixed on him whenever there’s something wrong. “Okay. I’ll be your sponsor, if you want.”
Spencer feels himself relax. “Thank you.”
Morgan smiles and lifts a hand to squeeze his shoulder. “Anything you need, pretty boy.”