A/N: My apologies for the long wait on this chapter. I had a really difficult time writing it, and this one is actually my third version. I'm still not too sure how I feel about it, but I hope it's good enough for you guys!

It's three hours before Morgan is allowed back in the room with Reid. He'd undergone several tests and the doctor insisted that he rest alone, in case he were to wake up in a state of confusion again. There had been some arguing, but Hotch eventually calmed Morgan down enough to avoid a scene. The rest of the team eventually retreated back to the office, but not before Garcia made Morgan pinky-promise her that he'd call as soon as anything happens.

"Agent Morgan?" Morgan stands eagerly when a nurse calls out his name in the waiting room.

"You be good for Grandma, okay?" He smiles down at a blonde, curly haired little boy that he'd been coloring with on the floor. The boy had been crying when he came in with a very sick mother, and Morgan naturally wanted to comfort him. He smiles when the boy looks up and nods at him before returning to his coloring book with a bright green marker.

The nurse smiles as Morgan approaches her. Over the past two days, he's learned how to tell the difference between a genuine and faulty smile among the hospital staff. Something in their eyes always gives it away when they have come to deliver bad news. That's why an immense pressure lifts off his chest when he sees her.

"Reid is okay?" He asks as she looks over a clipboard.

"Yes, sir. All of his tests came back great. We were concerned that he may have some swelling around his brain, but that isn't the case. He does seem to have a cracked rib, but they usually heal themselves. You can go back in now, but I must warn you that he may have another episode when he wakes up. Be gentle, and don't be surprised if he doesn't recognize you or where he is at first."

"I understand," Morgan responds quickly, eager to take back his place next to Reid's bed. "When will he be able to go home?" He asks as they begin walking towards the room.

"It's hard to say," the nurse sighs. "It really just depends on…" She hesitates for a moment, so Morgan finishes her sentence for her.

"It depends on whether or not he'll be able to walk." A familiar wave of nausea hits Morgan like a speeding train. He grabs onto the wooden railing along the side of the hallway, hoping the nurse doesn't notice. He's in no mood to be checked out again, though he'd probably make an exception for her under different circumstances.

"Yes, sir. Well, here we are. Just press the call button if you need anything."

"Thanks, sweetie." Morgan tries to flash his charming smile, but it comes off much sadder than what he had intended it to. The nurse gives a small nod and heads down the hallway, stopping in front of another door as Morgan steps inside Reid's room.

The oxygen mask covering Reid's face has been replaced by tubes, which Morgan takes as a good sign. Other than that, things appear to be the same as they were when he left this morning. He strides over to the bedside and gives Reid a once-over before sitting back down in the chair, fumbling with the bracelet on his arm a bit as he wishes Reid would wake up.

After a few minutes, Morgan pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts to play Solitaire, growing irritated when he can't make out the numbers on some of the cards thanks to the crack in the middle of his screen. He wishes he'd have picked up a new phone while him and Garcia were at the mall, but the only thing on his mind was the contents of his little paper shopping bag, which now rests underneath of Reid's bed.

After twenty minutes of repeatedly losing the game, Morgan slams his phone down on the table, immediately wishing he hadn't. One worried glance at Reid shows that he hadn't registered the noise, and Morgan lets out a slow, grateful breath as he picks up a smaller hand into his own. He sits like that for a few minutes, absentmindedly tracing circles around Reid's cold skin. "Come on, kid. Wake up." He brings Reid's hand up to his face and plants a gentle kiss on his bony knuckles, freezing with his lips still pressed against it when he feels the tiniest of flinches.

"Reid? Can you hear me?" He asks, lowering his hand to rest in his lap as he continues to rub circles around it. Another, slightly stronger grip makes Morgan's heart skip several beats, and a wide smile paints its way across his face. "There's my Pretty Boy."

A series of small whimpers emulate from the bed, and Morgan finds himself reaching out to brush a few stray hairs away from Reid's eyes. "What is it?" He asks worriedly, not sure if the genius is trying to communicate or just in the process of waking up.

"H-hurts…" The other man mumbles hoarsely. His weak, broken voice makes Morgan's heart ache.

"What hurts?"

"Everyt-thing. Cold. So c-cold." Morgan glances around the room and spots a closet near the door. He gently pulls away to go to it, but the grip on his hand tightens, and more whimpers come from the bed.

"Reid, it's okay. I'm not leaving you. I'm just going to get you another blanket." After a minute, Reid very slowly nods his head without opening his eyes, allowing his hand to fall back onto the bed when he lets go of Morgan. The other agent crosses the room quickly, grabs a spare blanket from the closet, and returns to Reid's side. He's afraid that if he doesn't keep him engaged, Reid will slip back into unconsciousness. "Here, kiddo. Let's get you warmed up."

When he finishes tucking the blanket around Reid's shivering body, Morgan gently sits down on the edge of his bed. He notices Reid jump slightly at the unexpected movement, and picks up his hand again. "Can you open your eyes and talk to me?" He asks, thinking Reid has fallen back asleep when he doesn't get a response.

Slowly, Reid's head turns towards Morgan. His eyes open the tiniest sliver, close again, and open once more. Reid blinks hazily a few times, staring a hole through Morgan as if he doesn't even see him sitting there. Morgan waves a hand in front of his face. "Reid? Can you see me?" Reid licks his lips, swallows hard, and nods. Morgan swears he can see the corner of his lips twitching into a smile, but it's too subtle to be sure.

"Welcome back." Morgan grins. Reid looks around the room slowly, his eyes becoming wide with fear as confusion and panic settles in. His breath becomes shallow, and Morgan puts a hand on his chest to calm him. "Easy, kid. You're in the hospital. Everything is okay."

Reid tries to prop himself up on his elbows, but he is too weak and everything aches. Morgan resumes his little hand-circles, whispering the occasional "shh" as he runs his fingers through Reid's hair. As he becomes more alert, his whimpers become louder and Morgan's heart aches a little harder. "Scoot," he instructs his friend, patting Reid on the shoulder as he wriggles his upper body over in the bed half an inch. Morgan resists the urge to laugh at how little Reid actually 'scooted,' knowing that it probably hurt the younger man to move at all.

Deciding what small amount of room he had would have to do, Morgan turns around in the bed so that he is sitting parallel to Reid, stretches his legs out in front of him, and props himself up on his elbow so that he is half-sitting, half-lying on his side next to him. Morgan picks at a loose fiber on the blanket for a while, allowing a comfortable silence to fill the room. Then, noticing the pained expression on his face, Morgan asks, "How about you tell me what's hurting?"

"M-my head," Reid stutters, his voice still weak but more familiar sounding than before. He brings a hand up to touch his forehead, but Morgan wraps his thumb and index finger around Reid's tiny wrist before he makes it too far.

"No touching," he scolds in a fatherly manner. Reid's eyes follow Morgan's hand as he guides his arm back down, his pupils nearly doubling in size when he sees the needle disappearing into his vein.

"N-no," he begins frantically, attempting to pull the I.V. out on his own, but not being strong enough to get out of Morgan's grip. "T-T-Tob-" It's as if someone has flipped a switch inside of Reid, turning him from calm and sedated to hysterical and frantic. A new beeping fills the room, loud and less constant than the one Morgan has grown used to.

"Reid!" Morgan pleads, having to raise his voice over his heavy breathing and the machines now going haywire all around them. Morgan knows it is only a matter of time before nurses come barreling in and kick him out, so he does everything he can to calm him on his own.

"Tobias...h-he made me...I can't feel…"

"Shh, shh," Morgan whispers again, wrapping his arm around Reid and pressing him against his chest. "He's gone, Reid. He can't hurt you anymore."

"M-Morgan, he dr-drugged me. I said I d-didn't want i-it, but he m-m-made me. I'm sorry."

The dam that Morgan has tried so hard to keep from cracking explodes into a thousand pieces, and he can no longer hold back his own tears. He rests his chin on top of Reid's head and squeezes his eyes shut tightly, focusing on his breathing while soft brown hair tickles at his nose. "I know you didn't, Reid. That was a long time ago. It's okay now. No one is ever going to hurt you again. I promise."

Except for you, a menacing voice screeches inside of Morgan's head. This is your fault. He wouldn't be here if you hadn't almost killed him. "No," he says to the voice, his grip around Reid tightening as he pulls him closer and starts to play with his hair again. "It was an accident!"

"Morgan, I'm so s-sorry. I s-s-aid n-no, but I couldn't fight hi-him. Weak...t-too w-weak."

"Hey, enough of that," Morgan says calmly, swallowing a lump in his throat and trying to steady his voice. "It's over, Reid. Tobias didn't do this to you. I...I did." Saying the words aloud makes everything feel so much more real, and all of the weight of the world comes crashing down on top of Morgan's head. Unbearable pain shoots through his skull, and he knows it has nothing to do with the concussion. Morgan ignores it when he hears the door swing open and heavy footsteps pounding against the floor.

"Sir, you need to move." Someone grabs his shoulder. His arms tighten around Reid, and he relishes in the comfort of it before he's pried away and off the bed.

"Morgan!" Reid shouts in a heartbreakingly desperate voice as a nurse on the other side of the bed grabs his arm and wraps a leather strap around his wrist and the metal bar of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Morgan shouts angrily, having seen this scene far too many times to not know that there is only one reason why patients get locked down to their beds. "Stop! He's not hurting anyone! He's just scared!"

"Agent Morgan," the nurse who pulled him away from Reid speaks sternly, "Your friend is having a panic attack. We need you to calm down before you make matters worse." Morgan brings his shaking hands up to his face, running his fingers across his bandaged forehead and down his cheeks in frustration.

"Okay, okay," he breathes mostly to himself, trying to get a grip for Reid's sake rather than his own.

"Dr. Reid? You're going to feel a slight pinch, but this will calm you down, okay?" The terrified look on Reid's face as he glances between Morgan and the nurse holding a syringe dangerously close to the scars in the bend of his arm is something that will be seared into Morgan's brain for a very long time. He knows he should tell them not to give it to him, but he can't stand to see Reid freaking out like this any longer. Despite the protests of the second nurse, Morgan sits down on the edge of Reid's bed and takes his hand back possessively.

"Reid, look at me." Reid is staring at the nurse to his right as if she is holding a loaded gun to his head. "Hey, Pretty Boy!" Morgan snaps his fingers loudly. Reid's head darts in his direction, and Morgan cups his cheek in his hand. "Look at me. Don't worry about them. Just stay with me." Morgan doesn't take his eyes off of Reid's as he nods in indication for the nurse to give him the clear liquid, making sure that a friendly face is the last thing he sees before slipping away again.

"Alright, what do you see?" Agent Hotchner asks Prentiss, scanning the scene of the wreckage. It is usually Morgan who puts himself into situations to determine what happened, but he's given Prentiss enough pointers for her to work through it.

"He overcorrected here." She bends down and examines black tire marks on the road, which disappear into to the grass and are replaced by skidmarks before vanishing entirely, where the car began to roll. "Traveled about ten feet before he lost control and rolled the rest of the way down. What was it he told Rossi, again?"

Hotch reflects back to what Rossi had told him from his conversation with Morgan while they'd been getting some air at the hospital. "He said Morgan didn't remember a lot, but the last thing he recalls is looking over at Reid."

"That doesn't make sense," Prentiss observes, looking around the area skeptically.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she begins, standing back up and addressing her boss, "Look at these marks on the road. See how they curve outward before dropping off the shoulder?"

"Like he was swerving to avoid something," Hotch answers, now bending down himself to get a closer look. "But Morgan said he took his eyes off the road, and that's what caused him to crash."

"Hotch, I've rode with Morgan hundreds of times, usually in pursuit of an UnSub. He's a safe driver. I just don't think he would have looked away long enough to wreck." Hotch stands back up and gazes down at Prentiss, the wheels in their brain turning in sync as they come to the same conclusion.

"Do you think something in the roadway caused this?" Hotch asks his agent. "Perhaps an animal?"

Prentiss hesitates, studying the surrounding area. There are no houses nearby, but they are close enough to the city to see towering skyscrapers and hear the occasional beeping horn. "We're too close to the city for it to be a wild animal, and there are no houses near so it probably wasn't a pet. I don't see any signs of debris, and I know that Morgan wouldn't risk dropping off the shoulder just to avoid some trash. There aren't any marks on the other side of the road, so it probably wasn't another vehicle that merged into his lane."

The pair of them look at one another gravely, not having to say anything to understand. It happens frequently amongst their team. Sometimes, they just know what the other is thinking, and they know that it is the same thing that they themselves fear.

"We should check out the tree," Hotch instructs, clambering his way down the hill in his suit with Prentiss close behind. She stops when she sees shades of red coating the green grass, her breath catching in her throat. Hotch turns back to look at her solemnly.

"Do you think Spencer will be okay?" she asks outright, knowing that her boss isn't the type of person to lie just to make someone feel better.

"He'll adapt," Hotch replies knowingly, "That's what Reid does, and it's what he always has done. He adapts to survive."

The answer doesn't exactly make Prentiss feel any better, but it'll have to do. "Let's check this thing out and get the hell out of here," she says, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable standing in the very spot where two of her closest friends could have died. Despite the focused and unwavering expression on Hotch's face, she is sure he feels the same way as they continue on down to the strange markings in the tree.

Back at the BAU, Garcia is frantically scanning every last nook and cranny of the Internet in search for the phrase in Morgan's picture. She'd been at it for hours, to no avail, and was just about to pull her blonde hair out when a rasp comes at her door. The visitor enters without knocking.

"Find anything?" JJ asks, her eyes red from lack of sleep and crying.

"No," Garcia says angrily, pushing the buttons on her keyboard twice as hard as she needs to. "And trust me, when Penelope Garcia can't find something, it is unfindable! What if our UnSub just made it up to freak us out?" She asks, spinning around in her computer chair to face JJ.

"UnSub?" JJ raises her eyebrows at Garcia. No one told her they were considering this a crime. She just thought they were looking into it to give Morgan peace of mind, and hopefully prevent him from blaming himself for the rest of his life. Garcia looks at her incredulously, her mouth open in surprise.

"Yes, UnSub! You don't actually think my Derek-pooh had something to do with this, do you?"

JJ is taken aback by Garcia's sudden shift in attitude, but answers her honestly. "Garcia, accidents happen. It was dark. We were all exhausted and -"

"No, JJ. Accidents do not happen! Not to this team, anyway. Nothing in this life happens by mistake and if it does, it's just because we haven't found the reason behind it yet!"

JJ looks at Garcia sadly, her words all too familiar. "Spence said the exact same thing when he told us about Diana," she says, referring to Reid's schizophrenic mother. "God, Garcia. How are we going to tell her?" As one of Reid's best friends, JJ somehow feels obligated to break the news.

"We aren't," Garcia says flatly, "Not until we know for sure that we have to."

JJ can't help but smile at Garcia's unrelenting hope, wishing that she could have the same outlook on the situation. Another knock at the door breaks up their dwindling conversation, and both girls turn to see Rossi standing in the hallway, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Aaron called." He stares down at his shoes as he speaks, clearly regretting the conversation already. "Boston PD has requested our assistance in a string of murders, effective immediately. Him and Prentiss are going to meet us on plane in twenty minutes."

"What about our boys?" Garcia asks frantically, looking between the two agents standing in her office, both of them avoiding her gaze.

"Well, Hotch and Emily seem to believe something - or someone - caused the accident purposely. But until Reid or Morgan are able to give us a clear and accurate description of what happened, we have active cases to solve." Rossi smiles at Garcia sadly, knowing that the gesture will not be returned.

"Something? Someone? Oh, God. You mean...someone tried to kill my precious bundles of crime-fighting goodness?" Rossi doesn't respond, but gives Garcia a knowing look before turning his attention to JJ.

"You should get ready. We're two men down. This case isn't going to be easy."