Desiderium: longing for something that has been lost

chapter 8

occasionally words must serve to veil the facts. -- Niccolo Machiavelli 

O.o.O.o.O.O.o

Las Vegas 

February 16, 2008

6:30 p.m.

O.o.O.o.O.O.o

The drive back from the institution was quiet. Prentiss shifted in her seat, and glanced over at Morgan. He glanced at her. 

"What?" 

"You, handled that really well." 

Morgan sighed. Truth be told, he had really hoped that Spencer wouldn't have been that medicated when they saw him, but the poor kid (why couldn't he stop thinking of him as a kid?) couldn't even speak. 

"Prentiss all I did was talk to him like a human." Which from the looks of it, was probably the first time in a while, unfortunately. He pulled into the parking lot and turned to face her. "I think he can learn to trust us, eventually speak to us, but we have to give him those opportunities to build trust. He wasn't taken care of properly as a kid, and really even now." He sighed. "He's not a nut job, not a mental case, he's really just a kid with an traumatic past and a really bad string of luck."

Prentiss cracked a smile. "Morgan, I know. " She tapped him on the chest. "He's got you, hasn't he. I know JJ's fallen for him, and Hotch if you can believe it. But you Derek Morgan, feeling like suddenly you have to move all Las Vegas for one man?" 

Morgan raised an eyebrow at her. "And you wouldn't either?"

"Oh I would, I'm just better at hiding it." She laughed and walked off to the station. He shook his head and followed her into the station. 

JJ was the first to meet them. It was almost like she was waiting for them to come back. 

"How was it?" She handed them a carton of Chinese takeout. "Is he ok? Did he give us anything?"

Morgan held up a hand. "No, no. Poor kid didn't even speak today, he's too hopped up on meds. And god knows what else to even begin to trust us. I'm going back tomorrow. I promised him a book." He took a bite of the lo mien. "I'll be with him a lot tomorrow though, try and establish some trust with him. We need him. And truth be told, I don't really trust that doctor." 

Garcia turned around in her swivel chair. "Speaking of doctor. Dr. James Ryan has been working there for almost twenty five years. He specializes in depression, OCD and other general mental disorders. He has an almost perfect record, aside from the few parking ticket and speeding. He was married, filed for divorce ten years into the marriage, has two kids who he rarely sees." She shrugged. "Sounds like an average psych doctor to me." 

Morgan took another bite. "I don't know, he seemed, oppressive, to me." He shrugged. "Or maybe he just treats his patients like that." 

Prentiss sat down beside him. "He was a little dominant, but we don't know what his therapy session is for Spencer."

"So you're going back tomorrow?" Hotch had walked in on the three. 

"Yeah, need to find a book though. Something classic and something I would never own." He sighed. "Hotch this kid needs actual help. He's been there for nine years and he still suffers from oppressive selective mutism?" 

Hotch looked at him. "Morgan..." 

"I know, but c'mon man. He's a smart guy, who really doesn't deserve to be locked up there any more." He stood up. "I'm going to go see if Rossi has any ideas about books."