Fanfic: Just Like Him [Criminal Minds]
Title: Just Like Him
Author: wanderingjasper
Rating: PG/FRC
Characters: Morgan, young!Morgan.
Word Count: 807
Themes: Fluff
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, but I do take liberties with them for no financial gain.
Notes: Originally written for a challenge at crimeland, but I missed the deadline so I decided to flesh this out a bit.
Summary: Nine year old Morgan goes on an errand with his father.
“He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.” - Clarence Budington Kelland
“Hey, little man.”
Nine year old Derek looked up from his comic, feigning annoyance at being distracted from the protagonist’s battle with his nemesis. In reality he wasn’t annoyed at all, but it was the way he was socially conditioned to act towards his parents. The peer pressure of pretending he wasn’t excited every time his dad had on that smile, the one that barely reached the corners of his mouth but was everywhere in his eyes.
“C’mon.” He jerked his head, and Derek tried not to seem too eager as he abandoned his comic on the couch and followed his father. They passed his mother on their way out, and she smiled knowingly at her husband. He winked at her affectionately, and Derek could practically see her melting a little.
“Where are we going?” Derek asked, falling into step beside his father. Without hesitation he took the much larger hand that was offered, feeling a happy jolt in his stomach as his dad squeezed his hand.
“We’re going to see someone.”
“Who?” the nine year old asked curiously. His father just let a deep, happy laugh bubble up from his chest.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
Derek didn’t know what to expect, but he’d thought it might involve the movies or basketball or ice cream. But even disappointed by it not being any of these things, Derek didn’t let it show as they drew close to the bench in the park where a dishevelled and obviously homeless woman was sitting. She looked up at the older Morgan over her polystyrene coffee cup and her face lit up in a way that wasn’t unfamiliar to Derek; people often looked like that when they talked to his father, but through the layer of grime on the woman’s olive skin it seemed even more radiant and powerful a reaction that usual.
“Hi Nita.”
“Hey mister. Who’s the kid?”
“My boy, Derek.”
“Hi,” Derek said automatically after being introduced.
“How’re you doing, Nita?” his father asked, joining her on the bench, and the younger followed suit. “Did you go check out that shelter I told you about?”
“Not yet,” she said, and Derek was sure she was only pretending to say it like she didn’t care what his dad thought.
“You should. They can help you. You eating?”
“I’m saving my money,” she said, pushing her hair out of her youngish face. His father just nodded, and reached into his coat pocket. He withdrew what Derek recognised was one of his mother’s hearty subs.
“They’d feed you at the shelter, y’know,” he said, the teasing tone good natured. The woman smiled at him as she hastily unwrapped the sub sandwich she’d already taken from him.
Derek should have been bored. He was nine; he didn’t think he was meant to find his father talking to a homeless woman interesting, but he did. Hobos and the homeless were the butt of a good percentage of jokes with his friends and at school, but the way his father talked to her, the same way he talked to teachers or neighbours or even Derek’s mom was captivating. He hadn’t been raised to be unkind to people of ill circumstance, but it had never occurred to him to treat them normally. He swung his legs under the bench knotting his brow as he watched his dad asking her further questions; about how she felt, about where she was sleeping, about her avoiding trouble and something about not going back on ‘the game’. He didn’t understand exactly what his father meant, but he thought it might mean gambling or something.
Derek could tell his father cared about the homeless woman; that was a strange thought when not many people around him cared about homeless people. But the way her face had shined when she saw him, and the way she was smiling now as she ate the food offering; Derek knew that was different. He knew his father was special for being able to elicit that from other people, and he already had the sense that he should treasure that about his dad.
At nine years old, he knew his father was a good man who could make the world smile, and he wanted to be just like him.
***
“Be careful, you hear me?” Morgan said, offering a kind smile to the homeless woman. “This world needs all of its beautiful ladies, and that means you too, momma.”
She returned a smile that lit up her face before she toddled off. Emily looked at her team mate curiously.
“You’re a good guy,” she stated.
“Ya think?” he asked, turning to her.
“Yeah,” she nodded, smiling, “you make the people around you feel good.”