He'd started the breakdown at midnight. First, he'd wanted to tear the wall down with his bare hands, but it didn't work. Only his fingers were bloody now, as he swung a sledgehammer against the bricks. The effort stayed the same – this wall was built to resist an earth quake - , but the pain was almost gone. The physical pain, at least. Salty water still streamed down his face.

As ardent and urgent as was his wish to forget – the thought of having the team knowing how he felt was even worse. They did not need to see him that helpless. Especially Reid did not need to see him like that.

Reid, whose eyes had been filled with so much hurt as they flew back. Morgan knew he'd never forget the expression.

This time the young genius hadn't even tried to hide his bewilderment, his pain. Morgan could only try to imagine what was going on inside the younger man. His own father had been his hero as long as he'd lived, and he'd died as a hero. When ten-year-old Derek had stood at the grave, his mother and his sisters crying, this hadn't been much of a solace.

Now he saw it in a different light. At least he had known his father…at least he had not left his family behind by choice. He had not chosen to leave his sick wife in the custody of his son…

"Damned bastard!" The beats came faster now, and harder. Morgan's muscles objected to the brutal treatment, but he hardly noticed it.

All he had in mind was Reid, his big brown eyes, tears shivering inside, his frail features grown hard by fear.

Yet there had been determination shining through the tears. Morgan had always admired the professor's brain, and since the abduction by Tobias Hankel also for his durability. In these last days, however, the young man had proved something Morgan admired him even more for: braveness and loyalty for his team and his work, even when facing his personal hell.

And all this time hid father had lived in Las Vegas, and never had tried to get in contact with that wonderful boy of his.

As the blows got even angrier, the tears ran freer. The agent shivered from anger. It was not only William Reid whom he beat down in one of his properties – it was also himself.

He should have been there for Reid. At least in front of him the professor should not have felt obliged to make justifications. He should have trusted him, show him that the whole team was at his side, whatsoever might happen. But he had failed Reid.

Eventually, the hammer fell onto the floor as Derek broke down beside the rest of the wall, crying. Shivering, he burrowed his face in his hands, tried to think of something else –anything, as long as it'd take away these big, painfilled eyes.

The first face that crossed his mind was Garcia's. Derek smiled as he thought about his baby girl. Garcia'd have known what to say. She always knew what to say to make people laugh and feel better. Cruel as the pictures they all saw might be, the brave blonde managed to make them see the color in life, and he loved her for that.

And Morgan had failed her, too. His pride had led to her almost getting killed by Jason Clark Battle. It was the doctor's work that she was still with them.

He had only stood by, unable to do anything. Like he had at his father's grave, like he had with Buford, like he had with Reid's parents.

Frustrated he hammered his fist onto the floor, just to groan in pain. Fresh blood ran down his knuckles.

"You know that blood can never be totally cleaned up" a voice behind him said. Morgan jerked, but he didn't turn around.

"Rossi", he murmured. Slowly he wiped the tears off his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Prentiss told me about your four properties you work at after hard cases. Well, I think what we've been through in Vegas definitely was a hard case."

"What Reid has been through", corrected Morgan.

"Excuse me?"

The agent finally turned around, looked the older into the eyes. "What Reid's been through was a hard case, if not the hardest he's ever had. I don't remember us doing anything but standing around there."

"Sometimes standing aside can be the hardest thing to do, Morgan", Rossi said, answering the glance. Eventually Morgan's gaze dropped.

"It's just not fair", he told the floor.

"Life's never fair", the older agent said. His voice was almost gently. "Hotch worries about you, as does Penelope. She wouldn't have given me the addresses without reason."

He kneeled down so their faces were on the same height.

"You can't fight all our battles, Derek. What Reid has done, he did because he had to. It was his decision to face up with the past, and we both know that it was right to do so. Whatever happened, it made Spencer stronger. "

Morgan nodded. Reid had shown strength and calm through his tears on their way back home. It seemed as if he had found a little bit of peace.

"It was our decision", Rossi interrupted the memory "to stay with him, to offer him whatever we could give him. Do you regret this decision?"

Derek looked up. Rossi was relieved as he watched a beacon of determination glowing up in his eyes.

"No!" Morgan growled.

"Good" Rossi stood up. "Then I hope you won't do anything now that you would regret. As I said", he was at the door now, "blood can't be cleaned up. And believe me; you don't want to buy a new wooden floor right now. The price grows quicker as case files on JJ's desk after a long weekend."

Morgan laughed, and then he breathed in deeply, his eyes closed.

Rossi had reached his car. "See you tomorrow, agent Morgan. Don't be late!" He opened the door.

"Dave!" Morgan called from the house. He seldom used the other's forename.

"Yes, Derek?"

The agent's eyes were dry now, but his voice was shaking slightly.

"Thank you, man. Thank you."