Hello again! It has been such a LONG week :[ I humbly beg your forgiveness for not updating sooner! Once again, thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/ followed my story, and I really hope you continue reading!

As I said before, I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CRIMINAL MINDS CHARACTERS, OR THE SHOW.

Here goes. . .

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Reid POV:

The lights flashing past the window of the SUV blind me through my sunglasses, and cause the insistent throbbing in my head to worsen yet again. Huffing a bit, I turn my head away from the windows and close my eyes, trying and failing to block out all stimuli.

"Spence, are you okay?" JJ's voice vibrates through my skull like a buzz saw, and it takes every ounce of strength I possess to not whimper in pain. Instead I try for aloof and tired, not very hard in my current situation.

"Yes JJ, I'm fine. Why would you think otherwise?" My voice comes out small and breathy, not what I want if I'm trying to convince my team that I feel fine; inwardly I berate myself.

"Well, you're still wearing your sunglasses, and you've been fidgety . . . more than usual." She mentions the glasses and I smirk, although I think it came out more as an awkward grimace; the glasses at least are easy to explain.

"The level of contrast between the dark interior of the car and the bright lights outside the windows hurts my eyes, so I find it easier to just keep my sunglasses on." 'Not a total lie,' I think as I prepare to tell another partial lie. "As for the fidgeting, I just had a few too many cups of coffee this morning." I take a deep breath to brace myself, and give her the most reassuring smile I can muster. She's clearly not completely convinced, but she returns my smile and gives up for now. 'Thank God for small favors!' Carefully, so as to not jostle my head, I lean back and block everything out for the rest of the ride to the police station.

Hotch POV:

My team walks into the police station, clearly weary, but faces steeled with determination. Something feels wrong though, and my gaze is immediately drawn to the youngest. His shoulders are hunched, eyes shielded with sunglasses, fingers tightly gripping the ends of his sleeves. My eyes narrow as I start towards him, but several feet from him my attention is diverted to a sturdy looking man of middle age striding over to my team. Knowing this must be the police chief, I purse my lips and decide to let Morgan take care of it; I'll make sure they room together tonight.

No-one's POV:

"Hello chief Daniels, I'm agent Jurouea*, we spoke on the phone. These are agents Hotcher, Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, and doctor Reid." JJ briskly shakes the chief's hand, before getting down to business. "Is there some place that we can set up?"

"Yes Ma'am, we cleared out the conference room for ya; follow me." Chief Daniels promptly turns on his heel and begins to lead the team down a hallway. Opening a glass door, he leads them single-file into the conference room; with that done, the chief exits, leaving the team to get prepped.

"Alright everyone, we'll set up and then head to the hotel. Everyone's got to share a room with someone; Prentiss with JJ, Rossi you're with me, and Morgan will share with Reid." Hotch's authoritative voice fills the room, leaving no room for objection, something that Reid desperately wants to do.

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Reid POV:

Arriving at the hotel, we all grab our bags and stumble to our designated rooms. 'You more than the others,' my brain supplies the snarky comment, and I can't help but smirk at its truth. The clanging inside my skull has gotten somewhat better, although that is really just a matter of opinion; it is better than it had been, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like a son-of-a . . . I roll my eyes at the fact that even when I'm thinking, I still can't bring myself to curse. Of course the act of rolling my eyes momentarily blinds me as a wall of white hot pain slams into my brain.

As the pain subsides, I realize that Morgan and I have arrived at our door. I watch as he pulls the key card from his jeans pocket and slides it in and out of the slot, successfully unlocking the door. Morgan holds it open for me and I shoot him an appreciative grimace; not what I intended to do, but still better than screaming like I want to. This is one of the worst headaches I've ever gotten. 'Just figures that you'd have a case!' I internally acknowledge that statement as truth; my luck has always been terrible.

Morgan POV:

As soon as the door is closed and once again locked, I turn to Reid and cross my arms. He stares at me for a few seconds, and I can see indecision flash in his tired brown eyes; 'at least he's finally removed his glasses,' I think as I watch him. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Reid heaves a weighty sigh and flops down on the bed we're to share.

"Fine, fine, I give up. Ask your questions." My forehead crinkles in concern when I hear the exhausted tone in his voice. "I just . . . I just want to sleep!" His voice catches and rises in pitch, like sobs caught in his throat. Slowly, I move towards the bed, careful not to startle him.

"What's wrong, pretty boy?" I question, my voice gentle and quiet, concern dripping from every word. I think it was the 'pretty boy' that did it, but when I sit down facing him, I see a single tear slide down his pale skin. Suddenly, his face contorts in pain, and his mouth opens letting out a small desperate cry. His shaking hands shooting up to grab his head, he gasps, "Morgan! It hurts!"

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A bit of a cliffhanger, eh? Hehehehe! Yeah, after I waited soooo long to update, I figured I'd give you drama.

Good, bad, or garbage? Please 'Reid' and review :]

*I'm not sure how her name is spelled.