Title: The Ones That Got Away
Author: Sam
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Gideon/Reid
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimers: Not mine, no money made, written to keep myself sane while babysitting the kidlets.
Summary: Gideon has something on his mind after Idaho.
Beta: Thanks to BeckLanka for the quick beta - as always, any screwups are completely mine.

***

Stumbling down the hall into his living room, Spencer paused to turn on a light in the inky darkness as the knock sounded again, louder this time.

"I'm coming, hold your horses..." he muttered, straightening his t-shirt and running a hand through his rumpled, pillow-flattened hair. He hadn't bothered throwing on his robe; whoever was trying to beat down his door at - he took a quick glance back at the digital clock on the microwave in the kitchen - 1:45am, could damn well deal with being received in his t-shirt and boxers.

He just had reached the door when another knock echoed through his apartment. He frowned in surprise when a peek through the peephole showed him Gideon standing outside on the second floor landing, still dressed in the dark blue shirt and jeans from the plane ride back from Idaho.

He opened the door, Gideon looking about as surprised to be there as Spencer was to see him and maybe a little lost. It was hard to tell with Gideon sometimes - and he had that bland, neutral mask on...

"Gideon?"

"I comforted him."

The stark comment came out of nowhere, without context, and Spencer's frown deepened in concern. Leading the older man softly, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"Johnny Mulford," Gideon said. No - confessed. Whatever this was about, Spencer had no doubt this was exactly what Gideon was doing. Confessing some kind of sin...

Irritably, Spencer pushed the memory of Rafael demanding he confess his sins out of his mind and focused back on Gideon.

"Johnny Mulford." The older man was almost impatient that Reid didn't immediately understand. Looking from his hands back up at Spencer, now closing the door, he repeated, "I comforted him."

The unsub who died in the woods.

"Before - no." Gideon shook his head, refuting his own statement with a bitter, self-loathing smile. "Not before. While - *while* he died. Bobby Barrett had been running for her life, exposed to the elements for hours, chased...stalked...*hunted* by these animals and I - I couldn't help myself. I saw you, lying on the floor, unable to breathe - and I *comforted*. Him."

That last was spat, grounded out in a fury. Gideon obviously felt as if Bobby Barrett and the other victims deserved more concern than the man who hunted and intended on killing them but he had stayed with him anyway.

Because Johnny was young and slight and had long hair and had been scared and about to die. Just like Spencer.

This wasn't about Idaho - this was about Marshall Parrish.

Taking one of Gideon's hands, Spencer didn't stop to think. He pulled it up, placing it under his t-shirt against his still beating heart and held it there with his own. The hand was cold against his bare skin, still sleep-warm from being woken in the middle of the night.

Taking in a sharp breath, Gideon was trembling.

"I'm here, Jason. Hankle didn't kill me."

"He shot you." Normally smooth, the confident, comforting tone was shaky. "You were shot."

"There were no bullets. The chambers were empty."

"Except for the last," Gideon argued. "He had a gun to your head..."

"And I'm still alive," Spencer told him reasonably. "Hankle didn't kill me and Johnny Mulford was an unsub killed in self defense by the woman he and his brother had been stalking. I'm still here."

"I know that." Gideon drew in a shaky breath, starting to draw his hand away from the gently thumping flesh under it.

This time Spencer didn't let him. This time Spencer was going to trust his instincts and fight for what they both needed. "Do you?"

"Yes."

Favoring him with an assessing *profiling* stare, Spencer shook his head, his lips quirking up into a small grin. "And they say I'm a terrible liar." The hand still holding Gideon's over his heart tugged him back toward the bedroom. "Come on."

"Spencer..."

"Sleep, Jason."

Torn between what he wanted and what he thought was fair, Gideon protested feebly. "I slept on the plane."

Reid only slipped into bed, eyeing the other side pointedly. "Terrible, Terrible liar."

Knowing he was right, with a ghost of a true smile, Gideon gave in. "You could be right." Stopping only long enough to take off his shoes, socks, jeans and outer shirt, he slipped into bed beside the younger man dressed the same, in only a t-shirt and boxers.

Curling up against Spencer, it didn't take him long to stop resisting the need to get closer; the almost irrational need to make sure the younger man would still be with him during the night. Pulling him in, Gideon decided to ignore the chuckle that ghosted lightly over his temple as he settled in to sleep, his head pillowed on Spencer's t-shirt covered chest. Over his heart.

Out of the darkness, Spencer spoke softly above him.

"If it matters, I think comforting him had more to do with the kind of man you are, than the kind of man he was."

Gideon smiled into the cotton under his cheek, feeling a day's worth of lost sleep coming in to claim him. Enjoying the hand that rubbed soothing trails over his short hair and down his neck, he let the slow, steady thump lull him to sleep.


End