Criminal Minds One Shots

Fix Me (MorganxReader)

Warning: self-harm and eating disorders

"Hey, y/n? Can you pass me those?" Morgan asked, pointing to the files a few desks over. "Anderson wanted me to help him with some of his paperwork."

"Sure." You stood up and grabbed the papers. As you walked them over to Morgan, the room started spinning. Black dots crowded your vision. You could hear Morgan shouting but you couldn't pick out what he was saying. You became aware that you were on the floor and felt Morgan's hand on you. You made some sort of a grunting noise before closing your eyes.

. . .

You woke up to a steady beeping.

"Thank God."

You looked to your right to see Morgan sitting next to you.

"I was afraid I'd lost you."

You shook your head.

"What happened?"

"You fainted. Probably because you haven't been eating, have you?"

You gulped, trying to ready yourself for the conversation ahead.

"How could you do this to yourself?" Morgan demanded.

You knew his anger was rooted in worry but that couldn't keep you from crying.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I just don't get it. How could you do this?"

"I hate what I see in the mirror," you hoarsely whispered. "Y- you're a- a- a god! And I'm just me..."

Morgan took your hand and squeezed it gently.

"Baby don't ever think that. You don't like what you see? Don't look. What you're doing isn't healthy, okay?" Morgan exhaled deeply. "You gotta love yourself before you look, got that?"

You nodded, pulling your boyfriend in and kissing his cheek.

~ 3 months later ~

You were slowly gaining your weight back and you hated it. Every time your shirt fit differently, every time someone said you looked so much healthier, you died a little inside.

Stupid screw-up, the voice said. Can't diet properly, can you?

You tried to lose the weight again, but Morgan was watching. He made you eat breakfast and lunch with him in the office and came over nearly every day to make you dinner. Eventually, you resorted to other means to appease the voice. You became hooked on the sting and the crimson red lines that would ooze out of your wrists, thighs, stomach, pretty much anywhere you could slice.

One day, Morgan came over earlier than you expected. He caught you literally red handed.

"Y/N!"

You were so startled you accidentally pushed the blade farther than you'd intended. You yelped and pulled the blade out, not taking much notice of the gush.

"What the hell?" Morgan hissed. "Why do you keep hurting yourself?"

"You wouldn't understand," you retorted.

"Oh yeah? Try me. You think you're the only one who's wanted to die?"

"No, Derek. You wouldn't—"

"Try. Me."

"Fine. So much is broken inside and I don't know what the hell it is or how to begin to fix it!"

"So? We've all been there! That's why we have therapy!"

"See? You don't get it!"

"GET WHAT?" Morgan shouted.

"THIS! ME! I NEED SOMEONE TO FIX ME, DAMNIT!" You fell to your knees. As you cried, you whispered, "I can't fix myself. I need someone to do it for me."

Morgan came over to you. For the first time, he saw just how bad your cut was. He quickly pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance. As he did, you began to feel light headed.

"Okay, y/n. Help is on th- Y/N! No no no no no stay awake for me baby come on. Come on." Morgan tapped your face lightly until your eyes fluttered open.

"I'm sorry," you croaked. "I'm sorry I was too weak."

"No don't you start. Don't you go there!" You could see the tears forming in Morgan's eyes.

"Goodbye, love." You closed your eyes and waited for nothingness to consume you. But it didn't. You woke up a few hours later, fearful for the journey ahead.