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JJ had finally gotten out of bed and was able to care for Henry. She had slowly started to be able to do day to day routine stuff, if she stopped thinking about Reid. When she would that was when she would turn back into a zombie. Will stayed with her constantly, in fear of her depression getting worse. It was really her family that helped her even get out of bed.

She was more thankful for them than ever before.

After the trip Morgan had retired to his apartment. He wouldn't get up for anyone, not even Garcia. She spoke to Hotch about it after a week of it happening.

"I'm really worried about him," she told Hotch. "He's not responding...And Reid's...funeral-"she hated saying that word "Is in a few days...He'll hate himself if he misses it."

"I'll see what I can do, Garcia," sighed Hotch as he rubbed his forehead. He tried to ignore his own pesronal hell.

He knocked on Morgan's door.

"Morgan? This is Hotch...I'm coming in even if you don't answer." Silence. "Morgan! We're worried about you...all of us."

Silence. Real worry filled Hotch.

They had just lost Reid, they COULDN'T lose Morgan too.

He kicked open the door. The room was a mess, filled with pizza boxes and beer bottles. Papers scattered everywhere as well. He shook his head. They were going through hell with Reid's death but it was clear Morgan had taken it worse than anyone else.

He pushed open Morgan's door. Morgan was sitting on the corner of the bed with a bottle in his hand while staring at the window. His sweater had beerstains and pizza stains on it, so did his sweats. He clearly hadn't showered in days.

"Morgan?"

"Go away Hotch."

"Morgan, we're all worried about you."

"DON'T!" Morgan glared at him and Hotch was stunned to see, despite the anger in them how lifeless his eyes seemed.

"Morgan..."Hotch placed his hand over his mouth. He wanted to help his friend, but he didn't know how. "Morgan, you...you need help."

Morgan shook his head.

"Don't need nobody," he slurred into his bottle. "Don't want nobody. Well I want Reid...but can't have him."

Hotch sat down on the unmade bed.

"Please Morgan...please get help, for Reid."

"WHY? Why should I do that for Reid?"

"Because that's what he would have wanted! He wouldn't want you to ruin your life!"

"Well he's not here to tell me that! And want to know why? BECAUSE I KILLED HIM!"

Hotch was stunned by Morgan's outburst.

"You didn't kill him, Derek!"

"YES I DID! DON'T SAY ANY DIFFERENT TO TRY AND MAKE ME FEEL BETTER!" Morgan suddenly roared. "I don't deserve comfort!"

Hotch went over to place his hand on Morgan's shoulder.

"Get your hand off of me!" Morgan growled deeply. "Like I said, Hotch, I don't deserve comfort."

"It's not your fault," Hotch said firmly. "It's not your fault."

"STOP saying that!" Morgan's voice rose to a dangerous level.

"It's not your fault."

"GET YOUR HAND OFF OF ME!"

"Morgan you have to believe me when I say-"

"STOP IT!" Morgan bellowed with such rage that Hotch never heard from him. Unable to stop himself Morgan rose his arm and swung at Hotch, hitting him directly in the face.

Hotch's whole body jerked backwards and both sat there in stunned silence as Hotch placed his hand to his nose and felt blood. Morgan couldn't stop staring at him in horrified shock,the knot in his stomach getting worse. He tried to speak, but couldn't.

"I guess I'll leave now," Hotch said sowly as he stood up.

"Hotch..."

"Please, you need help Morgan. Get it."

Morgan slowly nodded.

"Hotch...I...I didn't mean to..."

Hotch sighed.

"I know," he said with surprising softness. "I know you didn't but please you need to talk to someone about this. You can't handle this alone."

Morgan nodded and blinked back tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Hotch assured him and as he left Morgan, furious with himself, threw a bottle against the wall and listened to the glass shatter as he wondered if he would ever be the same again.

And if he would stop feeling angry all the sincerly doubted it, though.