Endgame | ᴍᴏʀᴇɪᴅ

My Private Service

"There's been another murder, three men this time," Kent came into the conference room where everyone else was working with the exception of Emily and Rossi who were still at Richard's house.

"Let's go," Hotch stood and the team allowed followed suit, piling into SUVs and heading down to the area.

"Where were they found this time?" Reid asked.

"They were found at a bench in front of the local mall," Hotch answered. "JJ, call Prentiss and ask them to wrap it up, clearly he couldn't have done it," JJ nodded and called, informing them.

"He crossed gender boundaries so this unsub doesn't have a preference. His MO is only related to creating the doll-like figure out of humans," Morgan thought out loud. "Why?"

"What if the unsub is a woman? The crimes are highly organized and clean which usually abide by female unsubs and not to mention the desire to create Barbies out of humans," Reid suggested.

"That would make sense. What man would want to create Barbies? They would more likely go for porcelain dolls if at all," Morgan pointed out.

"Unless he's perhaps homosexual and was interested in them as a child," JJ offered.

"What is the likeliness of that?"

"Statistically, very low," Reid offered but once more didn't elaborate which I knew turned everyone off when they turned to look at him. He was blatantly staring out the window, his face resting on his fist.

"You okay?" JJ squeezed his shoulder affectionately which made Morgan cringe slightly. He knew it was obviously a caring gesture, no more affection than a mother would show but Morgan still hated it. 

After delivering the newly created profile, it didn't take too long to find the unsub. She was a 40-year-old woman, early retired orthopedic with relapse issues that made her go back to when she was young. Her psychosis made her view humans as dolls in which she could dress up and fix to her liking. The team felt bad for arresting her because she didn't even know she was doing it. It was a borderline multiple personality disorder issue but her diagnosis didn't fit with that theory.

The entire jet ride home, Reid pretended to be asleep and ignore Morgan. The agent was tired of it and he was not planning on letting Spencer go home without having a conversation about the entirety of their situation.

Spencer couldn't wait to go home and sulk. Maybe drown in his library just for good measure. As soon as they had arrived back at Quantico, he retrieved the wet bag of clothing that unfortunately stunk of mildew and thought it was best to just toss them, he would get new ones later.

He walked into the bathroom, tossing the bag in the trash can. Because of how late it was, the building was empty aside from the rest of the team so he had all the privacy he needed. Stepping towards the sink, Reid opened the tab and washed his face. Spencer jumped abruptly when the bathroom door shut, turning quickly and watching as Morgan folded his arms over his chest, a dominating looking on his face, his jaw set tightly.

Jesus what I would let him do to me. Damn it, Spencer. Get a grip.

"What are you doing?" the doctor asked carefully.

"We're not leaving until we talk," Morgan deadpanned.

"Talk about what?" Reid scoffed, shaking his head. His defense walls were built and built high. He wasn't ready to face such humiliation of Morgan rejecting and pushing him away so to Spencer's belief, the best way to deal with it was to be done with it quickly. "That I made you uncomfortable a few days ago? That you probably want nothing to do with me? Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate or try anything. I know that you're straight and you like women and I understand that I do--"