Make It out Alive

The team had gotten together at a bar for New Years Eve. Derek was talking to a girl, JJ, Garcia, and I were chatting with Haley, and Hotch and Gideon were just listening to the women. Spence had gone to grab the two of us drinks.

"Hey, Morgan!" I called.

"Yo, whatchu want, Bryson?"

"Bet you can't do better than me at karaoke!" I challenged. Spencer had just joined us. He handed me my screwdriver and gave me a quick kiss. I smoothed my dress down at bit.

"Oh yeah? You're on, little girl," Derek chuckled.

"You talk a lot of talk, Morgan, but you aren't singing a lot of song," I called out.

"Oh, little girl, you gonna wish you hadn't said that," he said, going up to the DJ.

The intro to "Under Pressure" by Queen and David Bowie came on. I smiled. If he was going that way, I could play that game.

"Mm ba ba de. Um bum bad de. Um bu bu bum da de. Pressure pushing down on me, pressing down on you no man asks for. Under pressure- That burns a building down, splits a family in two, puts people on streets." I smiled confidently at Derek, who snapped and pointed to me.

"Um ba ba be. Um ba ba be. De day da. Ee day da- that's okay. It's the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming 'Let me out!' Pray tomorrow- gets me higher. Pressure on people- people on streets. Day day de mm hm. Da da da ba ba. Okay. Chippin' around- kick my brains around the floor. These are the days it never rains but it pours. Ee do ba be. Ee da ba ba ba. Um bo bo. Be lap." I grinned, and in reply, he did a little dance. I chuckled, covering my eyes momentarily.

"People on streets- ee da de da de. People on streets- ee da de da de. Da de da. It's the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming "Let me out!" Pray tomorrow- gets me higher high high. Pressure on people- people on streets. Turned away from it all like a blind man. Sat on a fence but it didn't work. Keep coming up with love but it's so slashed and torn. Why- why- why? Love love love love love. Insanity laughs under pressure. We're cracking. Can't we give ourselves one more chance? Why can't we give love that one more chance? Why can't we give love? Give love! Give love! Give love! Give love! Give love! Give love! Give love! Give love! 'Cause love's such an old fashioned word, and love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night. And love dares you to change our ways of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure. Under pressure. Pressure."

The bar errupted in applause and cheers went up.

I stood, smoothed my dress down, and grinned. "Good luck kiss?" I asked Spencer.

"You don't need it," he laughed, kissing my lips anyway.
I strutted up to the DJ, requested my song and took the stage.

I winked at Derek and cleared my throat. With a thumbs up to the DJ, the song started.

"Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world. She took the midnight train, goin' anywhere. Just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit. He took the midnight train, goin' anywhere. A singer in a smokey room. A smell of wine and cheap perfume. For a smile they can share the night. It goes on and on and on and on." My old vocal training started to come out as I sang the song. I had, at one point in my life, wanted to be a singer.

"Strangers, waiting, up and down the boulevard. Their shadows, searching in the night. Streetlights, people! Livin' just to find emotion! Hidin', somewhere in the night!" I took the mic off the stand and started to walk the edge of the stage, and the entire bar was up and dancing close to the stage.

"Workin' hard to get my fill. Everybody wants a thrill. Payin' anything to roll the dice, just one more time! Some will win, some will lose. Some were born to sing the blues. Oh, the movie never ends, it goes on and on and on!" People in the bar were singing with me, and had come to stand in front of the stage. I looked and Spencer was front and center, I smiled brilliantly at him.

"Strangers, waiting, up and down the boulevard. Their shadows, searching in the night! Streetlights! People! Livin' just to find emotion! Hidin', somewhere in the night!" During the solo, I played air guitar jokingly, tossing my hair to and fro. "Don't stop believin'! Hold on to the feelin'! Streetlights, people! Don't stop believin'! Hold on! Streetlights, people!" I finished the song, and was met by cheers, applause, and cheers.

I grinned and took a bow. When I walked down, I was greeted by people telling me that I did excellent and people offering me drinks. I smiled and shook them off. I was drenched in sweat, but Spencer kissed me and held me tight. "Wow, Polly. That was, I mean, wow," he told me. I smiled at him. "I got you a bottle of water and another screwdriver."

"You're wonderful," I panted.

I chugged the water, sitting down at our table. Derek put his hands up. "You win, little girl, you win."

"I'll tell you what my prize is at a later date," I chuckled, sipping my drink.

After the count down, Spence and I went back to my place, where we were greeted by Shortcake. "Hey sweetie, happy New Year," I told my cat. Spencer laughed. We went into the living room, and as I was checking the voicemail, Spencer came up behind me and placed his hands on my hips. I turned and pressed my lips to his.

There was an urgency in his kisses that I had never felt before. I felt Spencer's hands rest on my hips, and as it deepend, he pulled me closer, a hand slipping down to the swell of my buttocks, and I froze in terror.

Images of the nights in my so called father's home flooded my brain as the untouched nerves shrunk away in fear. My heart rate increased in fear, my instincts screaming to run. Somewhere in my brain, logic and reason spoke in soft, soothing voices, telling me it was Spencer Reid, the man I was dating and cared for deeply, not the man I was abused by. Unfortunately, instinct's voice was a dull roar over the soft whispers of reason.

Spencer noted my unresponsive behavior and pulled away from my lips, pulling his hands to his sides. "Polly, I'm so sorry-" he started.

Tears were already falling as I turned away from him. "No, I'm sorry. It's my fault," I whispered, shaking my head.

"Hardly," he protested.

I turned to face him, the plea in my eyes. "Spence, I can't keep doing this to you." When he opened his mouth, I shook my head. "You should be with someone who can have a healthy, normal relationship. I can't give you anything you're looking for, because I don't know what it is."

He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, words spilling out. "I don't care about a healthy, normal relationship! I care about you!"

I shook my head. "You'll thank me for this one day," I told him sadly.

He took a step toward me, his face a mix of bewilderment, sadness, and a tinge of fear. I took a step back. "Spencer, please. Please, just go," I begged softly.

He stared at me for a long moment, sighed and turned away, walking out of my living room, walking out the door, walking out of my personal life for the second time. "I love you," I whispered into the silence.