Spencer spent that night attempting to call Derek and talk to him, but he reached his voicemail every time. Now he understood how frustratingly heart-breaking it was to have several calls go unanswered. After his tenth attempt, he set his phone on his nightstand, before lying back and staring at the ceiling. Every night without Derek was excruciatingly long and lonely, and he couldn't think of a possible way to get him back. He laid awake most of that night, trying to think about a way to reconcile their differences and make Derek happy again, but he was coming up blank. He couldn't understand how he could be a genius and not have a single answer that he needed.

The next day, he couldn't even find it in him to change out of his pajamas. He made his coffee in the morning and laid in bed, still searching for his answer. He'd had a miserable nights' sleep the night before, and was hoping he could doze off to do some much needed relaxing. Sleep finally came to him when his phone started buzzing on his nightstand. Reaching over, he grabbed it, checking the screen. When he didn't see 'Derek', it broke his heart all over again, and the fact that it wasn't Hotch or JJ about a case made it suck even worse, because at least work would give him a distraction. Seeing 'Rossi' on the screen, he simply pushed 'Ignore', before turning the phone off and burying his head in his pillow.

When there was a knock on the door a few hours later, he thought he was imagining it. When the knocking persisted, he got out of bed, rushing to the front door to check the peephole. He was filled with disappointment when he didn't see Derek, but instead saw Rossi standing there, a bottle of some form of alcohol in his hands.

"I know you're in there, Reid," he said, leaning against the doorframe, waiting.

Knowing that letting him in was inevitable, he unlocked the door, holding it open.

"You look like hell."

He looked down at himself and shrugged it off.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly, no."

Rossi gave him a look. "Considering the looks you've been giving Derek all week at work are those of a lost little puppy, something is going on between you two, and I'm not the only one to notice. Now, are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

He took a deep breath, sighing, before stepping back and holding the door open. Rossi walked in, setting the bottle down on the table. Spencer closed the door, pointing him in the direction of the kitchen before settling on his couch, legs tucked underneath himself.

He walked over with a few glasses, setting them on the table and pouring.

"What is that?" Spencer asked.

"Scotch."

"…I don't drink scotch."

"You'll learn." He picked up one of the glasses, handing it to Spencer. After Spencer took it, he grabbed his own, sitting beside him. "Now, what's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?" he asked, sniffing the glass.

"It doesn't take a profiler to figure out that something is going on between you two. Nothing you say here is going to leave the two of us, unless you want it to." He took a sip of his own drink, looking at him. "Sometimes, all you really need to do is talk about it. Maybe I could even help."

"Trust me," he started, swirling the drink around in the glass. "Nothing can help me from how badly I've screwed up." He exhaled, before pouring the entire glass into his mouth and swallowing, quickly hissing at the sting.

Rossi raised his eyebrows, pouring him another glass. "Then tell me about it. And take this one slower."

Spencer licked his lips, trying to think of the best possible way to start the story.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to tell you," he admitted, setting the glass down and kneading his hands.

"Whatever works for you. I just know when something's bothering me, leaving it in doesn't do it any good."

Spencer raised his eyebrows. "Oh, that's definitely the case."

"Excuse me?"

He swallowed, chewing on his cheek. "I did something that Derek is never going to forgive me for, and I deserve anything he wants to throw at me as an insult." He motioned toward the box, still sitting on his table. "He already moved any memory of me out of his apartment, and I know finding a way to get away from me is next. He'll probably take the unit chief job in New York or move back to Chicago – both are far enough from me that he'll be able to live happily. Sure the team would suffer, but in the end, it'd be my fault, so I can't blame anyone else for it."

"Okay, back up." He took a sip from his glass, then looked at Spencer. "Start at the beginning. Why would Derek give you back your things?"

"Because I did something so unforgiveable that he obviously never wants to see me again."

"…What could you have possibly done? You're Spencer Reid, you're the most passive and understanding person I've ever met in the FBI."

Spencer swallowed the contents of his glass again before biting down on his lip. He closed his eyes, sighing. "I cheated on Derek last weekend."

"Cheated as in?"

He opened his eyes, tearing up and sniffing. "I slept with somebody else, and the possibility of him ever forgiving me is slim to none."

Rossi opened his mouth to speak, but sighed. "Was it Mason?"

He nodded wordlessly, wiping his eyes.

"…What did he do?"

"That's just it." He sniffed, clearing his throat. "He didn't do anything. He was nice and thankful and caring and I took advantage of that. I took advantage of someone who looked up to me to get revenge on someone I love more than anything. Derek tried calling me multiple times, but I'd turned my phone off so Mason wouldn't get suspicious."

"Did he know you were in a relationship?"

He shook his head. "I never told him. Once I was in the restaurant, I knew what my motive was, and I despise myself for it. I could've walked away before dinner, or not gone back to his apartment, or done absolutely anything else, but in the back of my mind, all I could remember is Derek dancing with strange women. My mind took that as something I needed to get revenge on, and sleeping with Mason seemed to be the best option, and the regret didn't sink in until after it happened."

"Did you tell him?"

"I wanted to. The second I got back from Mason's, I was ready to tell him the truth. I told Mason everything in a letter so he wouldn't wake up to an empty bed and make me feel worse than I already do. But Derek started comforting me when he saw how upset I was, and he apologized for his behavior, and when I tried to confess, nothing came out. I couldn't put together the words to say that I cheated, so we just went to bed and I pretended nothing happened."

"Then how did he find out?"

He sighed, wiping his eyes. "I um, I made him breakfast in the morning to hopefully use that as a tool to tell him, because nobody gets upset on a full stomach. We watched a movie, and after that he kept complimenting me, and it was all words that I didn't deserve for being so disgusting the night before. It finally got to my breaking point and I told him I cheated. He reacted as I expected, kicked me out of his apartment, and as you've seen at work, has pretty much erased me from his life." He chanced a look up at Rossi before looking back at his lap. "He wants nothing to do with me anymore, and it's all my fault."

What happened next, Spencer hadn't been expecting. Rossi had set down his own glass and moved closer to Spencer, wrapping his arms around him and rubbing his back. All Spencer could find it in him to do was start crying, burying his head in the older man's shoulder. In that moment, he felt the pain of everything that happened: considering cheating on Derek, actually sleeping with Mason, leaving him a note, rushing home, lying to Derek repeatedly, and finally telling him the truth, resulting in the most miserable week he'd ever had.

"He won't answer my calls. He won't talk to me at work. It's like I don't even exist anymore. There's no way I can fix this and I've never felt so disgusted with myself."

Rossi sighed, rubbing Spencer's back. "I wish I had this answer for you, kid. Just let it out."

Spencer pulled back from Rossi's arms, wiping his eyes and sighing. "I-I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, I asked." He patted Spencer's back, rubbing it. "Did it help?"

He nodded slightly, sighing. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"I don't think 'SSA Doctor Spencer Reid slept with someone else while he was dating SSA Derek Morgan' is water cooler conversation, kid. You're safe."

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you."

"Anytime." He got off the couch. "If you need to talk this weekend, my phone will be on."

When Spencer's response was a simple nod, he took his keys out of his pocket, walking out of the apartment and closing the door behind him.

Having Rossi comfort him and talk about everything that happened was a good temporary fix, but after he left, he was alone with his thoughts. He called Derek every single waking hour, hoping that he'd finally get an answer. Unfortunately, he got the answering machine every time. Every single time, he left him a message, and would send a text message right after. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if Derek had changed his number, considering how much he didn't want to see him. When it was time for him to turn in, he gave Derek one last call, hoping that he'd pick up. Once again greeted with his voicemail, he blinked away tears, sighing.

"Derek, it's me, again. This is now the hundredth time I've called you in the last week and," he bit his lip, "fuck, Derek. I can't do this. I'm not eating, I'm not sleeping, I can't… I can't even read anymore." He wiped his eyes. "I need you more than anything, and I can't even say sorry enough to truly tell you how sorry I am. If we are over, can you please just let me know? I know I don't deserve it, considering what I did, but if those feelings aren't there anymore, can you just tell me? I promise, if you say it's over, I'll be done and I won't bother you. I'll leave the BAU, if that's what you need, just please, Derek. Talk to me." He swallowed, exhaling. "I'll have my phone on at all times, so whenever you get this message, if you want to call me, you can, and I'll answer, I promise." He sighed, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, and I love you. I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry for the long message and wasting your time."

He had nothing left to say and sighed, hanging up his phone and plugging it in. He was sure to turn the ringer on his phone up all the way before curling up, hoping to get some sleep.

When his phone started ringing first thing in the morning, he reached over, unplugging it and answering.

"Derek?"

JJ laughed softly. "No, sorry, Spence. It's just me. Hotch wanted me to give you a call to let you know we've been called on a case."

He ran a hand over his face, sighing. "Where?"

"Maine, we're doing the debriefing on the jet in an hour. Do you want me to have Derek get you, or-"

"No, I'll pack my bag and take the subway over. See you soon."

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, see you soon."

He hung up and got out of bed, grabbing his go-bag and packing. Something about being stuck with Derek filled him with two things: hope and fear. Of course, he hoped that spending so much time with him would allow them to reconcile and fix everything that had happened between them, but he also worried that Derek would tell the team what happened and they'd all hate him. He zipped up his bag and exhaled, quickly getting dressed. He shouldered his bags and took one last look at his apartment. Seeing the half-empty bottle of scotch, he popped a few Tylenol in his mouth, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and walking out, closing the door and locking it.

Meanwhile, on the jet, Rossi sat across from Hotch, the only two currently at the airstrip.

"Did you find out what's going on with Morgan and Reid?" Hotch asked, not looking up from the case file.

Rossi gave a slight nod. "I did."

"And?"

"And I had to give Reid my word that it wouldn't leave the two of us. I can tell you that he still cares about Morgan, he's not going to let it affect his job, and he's going to do his personal best to keep a straight face and ignore all the problems while working."

Hotch sighed. "Dave-"

He shook his head. "I can't tell you, Aaron. The kid's hurting, and if you look at the two of them, there's still something there. I'm not about to play matchmaker, but I don't know how this team can exist with two of the members tiptoeing around each other."

Hotch leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. "I'll take care of it."