Prompt Me 5

[coffeebuddha]

Title: Prompt Me
Author: coffeebuddha
Rating: PG/FRT
Characters/Pairings: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Summary: A few drabbles based on prompts from staringout .

Feedback is always appreciated.

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#456-write about what's left among the ruins

It's just a plain black t-shirt. There's nothing special about it. It's old, faded almost to gray from washing and worn thin and soft from use. There are small, twin holes in the front and back, surrounded by the shadow of a dark stain. It smells faintly of cologne and sunshine, though it's been washed since the last time it's owner wore it.

He keeps it under his pillow, within easy reach. Sometimes he'll go weeks without pulling it out. But on the nights when the dreams or nightmares jolt him awake, he'll hold it in trembling hands, bury his face in the soft fabric, and inhale the musky scent until his pulse slows and the tears dry.

It's just a plain black t-shirt. There's nothing special about it, except that it's all he has left.


#449-write about the reunion

The air at the graveyard feels almost unnaturally still. Spencer stands on the edge of the crowd, fiddling with his tie. After ten years, he hadn't expected to have warranted a call.

Spencer clasps Jack's hands and offers his condolences to the young man and his wife. He's turning to go back to his car when Morgan steps in front of him. There's gray in his hair, his face has acquired a host of new lines, and his jawline is starting to go soft, but the rest of him is still as strong and solid as it was when Spencer met him all those years ago.

He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but after a long moment, he closes it and just stands there studying Spencer. The silence stretches long-uncomfortably so. Finally, Spencer nods shortly and moves to step around him. That snaps Derek into action and he reaches out to grab Spencer's arm. "Wait," he says, his eyes fixed on where his hand's holding Spencer's elbow. "Don't go. Not again."
 

#411-write about the unopened journal

Spencer paused just inside the door of Derek's borrowed office, carefully balancing a bag of sandwiches and two mugs of coffee. Derek was bent over the desk, his head resting on one folded arm, fast asleep. He was still holding the unsub's journal open with his free hand. A small stack of read journals were set on the right side of his desk. The unread stack on the left was considerably higher.

It was a task that would have normally been assigned to Spencer, but he'd been out interviewing a possible witness with Rossi when the journals had been found, so the job had fallen to Derek. Stepping softly, so as not to disturb the other man, Spencer crossed to the desk and carefully arranged his load on top of it. Then, he quietly pulled the chair from the corner over to the side of the desk, picked up the journal on the top of the pile, and began to read.

***
 

Part One/Part Two/Part Three/Part Four/Part Six/Part Seven/Part Eight/Part Nine/Part Ten/Part Eleven/Part Twelve/Part Thirteen

Comments

[wingstarvegeta.livejournal.com]

I sniffled for all of them, and I *SQUEE!*-d over the last one. Wonder! Absolutely wonderful. More please, when you find the time?

Love and cherries,
Wingstar

[coffeebuddha.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much! I'm going to type up a couple more that I wrote on the plane and try to write a third, provided I don't fall asleep on my keyboard first. :D