A/N: Hey. I'm sick, wahhh... Anyway, in this chapter, Reid again shows up on Morgan's doorstep, and Morgan demands to know what's really bothering him. He doesn't get much of an answer.

And, there's a break in the case...

Hope you like it-Please review, dears. (sniffle...)

Seds

Reid pulled into the parking lot of Bailey's Bar and Grill. The innocuously named establishment was actually a well-known gay hotspot. After doing some meticulous research, Reid had chosen it not only for the fact that it was popular (easy to disappear among the crowd), but clear over on the other side of town (far from any like-minded acquaintances who might recognize him). He sat in his car and watched the men milling around on the patio.

I can do this, he thought.

All he had to do was walk up to a stranger. Start an inane conversation. (What the hell would he say?) End the evening by skulking off to have anonymous sex with someone-anyone.

Thereby saving Derek Morgan from another ride on the Spencer Reid emotional roller coaster. He thought of being wrapped in Morgan's strong arms. A wrench of longing caught him, but he pushed it aside. No. He couldn't keep doing that to his friend, using him like a drug to get through the night. Morgan deserved better, deserved something-someone-infinitely better than himself. Morgan deserved someone who could love him. Reid rested his elbows on the steering wheel and buried his face in his hands for a moment, attempting to pull himself together enough to go inside.

Just then, a car pulled up next to him and a man got out. Older. Thick mustache, suit, no tie. He was on his cell phone, but he noticed Reid sitting at the wheel. He peered in curiously, then waved, gave him a predatory smile and tipped his head invitingly toward the bar entrance.

Reid stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. He sighed. No. It was no use, he couldn't do it. He started his car and backed out of the parking space, headed for the street. He drove around for a while, trying to work up the nerve to face going home, alone.

Thirty minutes later, he was on Morgan's doorstep. Morgan-well, Morgan would just have to deal.

He hated this, this weakness within himself. But, he couldn't bear the thought of spending the evening replaying the afternoon's phone conversations over and over in his mind. They'd all been horrible, but the one with Ted Roche, the father of the first dead girl, had been the worst. Mr. Roche had started off being calm and matter-of-fact. He'd wanted to help; he'd answered Reid's questions. Then, he'd broken down and cried, long painful howling sobs that made Reid guiltily hold the phone away from his ear. What right did he have to shield himself from that? The sound of him tearing open the wound in a father's heart?

They'd talked to the other girls' family members, but had only been able to contact two of the parents, and they still hadn't been able to find a common factor between all five victims. There was a glimmer of hope-the two moms each recalled that her daughter had at one time taken piano lessons from the same woman. Reid had had to call Mr. Roche back to ask about that specifically, but he didn't know, and his wife was out of the country on a business trip and not answering her phone.

So, they would have to pick it up again in the morning.

Reid rapped at Morgan's door. When it opened, he didn't speak, but Morgan read the desolation in his eyes and brought him inside. He closed the door and took him in his arms. A swell of emotion came up from Reid's throat and he shook with the effort of holding it back. Morgan spoke softly into his ear.

"Hey... It's okay. It's okay, let it out. Let it out on me, kid, I've got you..." Morgan brushed his lips over Reid's forehead and held him tightly. They stood there for a long while, with Morgan rocking him back and forth as he ran his hand up and down over the young man's back.

Finally, Reid pulled away. He looked into Morgan's eyes, offering a naked glimpse into his soul. The last time Morgan had seen that look, Reid had just asked him to flush a bottle of Dilaudid down the toilet. I can't do it, Morgan. You'll have to do it for me... Morgan caressed his face. "Hey, come on. Let's go sit down and talk."

Reid swiped a hand over his eyes and cleared his throat. "I didn't come here to talk."

"But-"

Reid looked at the floor. "I want to do what we did the other night." The words were spoken barely above a whisper, but Morgan heard them loud and clear.

"Spencer, no. I'm worried about you, man, I-"

"Come on, Morgan."

"Listen to me-"

Around the choked-back sobs came a disbelieving chuckle. "Are you really going to make me beg? Fine, I'm begging. Please, Morgan. Take me to bed. Please." He glanced up hopelessly.

"Reid, no. Look at me." Morgan put his hands on Reid's shoulders and made him face him. Reid's eyes, those beautiful dark eyes, troubled, determined-he saw there was no room for discussion. "All right. But, later? We're going to talk, whether you like it or not.

Reid held his gaze, then nodded. He headed for the bedroom, and Morgan followed. They undressed in silence, and Reid lay back on the bed, no longer caring that he was exposed, raw and vulnerable, to this man.

Morgan lay down beside him, then pulled him to him with one arm and kissed him, holding his chin firmly as he tried to jerk his head away. Now it was Morgan's turn to whisper, "Please." It took Reid a moment, but at last he parted his lips, and Morgan slipped his tongue into his mouth.

Reid moaned. It felt good, it felt right. God, it would be easy to lose himself in that kiss, to take Morgan down the wrong path. But he couldn't, he just couldn't do that to him. He twisted, tried to pull away, but Morgan simply tightened his embrace and continued his slow, gentle explorations.

Tenderly, he caressed Reid's mouth as if stroking the wings of a wounded bird. He pulled back and smiled at him, and lightly ran his fingers over Reid's face, then his lips. Then, he pushed the hair out of his eyes.

It was too much, that little kindness; Reid recoiled. "Morgan, don't," he rasped, his voice strained. He started to stand up, but Morgan pulled him back, feeling a swell of exasperation.

"What the hell, man? What'd I do? What the fuck's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm sorry-this was a mistake. I need to go."

"No, you don't. You need to talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Bullshit! Why are you pushing me away like this?"

"You want too much, Morgan. You want something I can't give-"

"I want to know what's wrong!"

"No-you're looking for something-I don't know what. An emotional connection, maybe? With me? But, there isn't one, and there won't be. I'm sorry, but hat's not what this is about, let's not pretend that it is."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I'm not a lost child looking for someone to love him. I just want... I just want to get away from my mind for a little while. When I'm in bed with you, I can do that. In return, I'll... do whatever you want. Sexually." Reid's hands had been nervously flying, gesturing. Now, he grasped Morgan's face and looked into his eyes. When he spoke, he sounded tired. "Why can't that be enough? Let it be enough, okay?"

Morgan stared. He took Reid's hands and pressed a kiss into each palm, then squeezed them between his own. "Listen, kid. I'm not asking you for anything that you don't want to give. Sexually, or otherwise."

"Yeah, right." Reid took a deep breath and dropped his head. Morgan lifted his chin.

"I'm not. But, I want you to understand-you don't have to be afraid of me. Or, of us. I just want you to know that."

Reid held his gaze for a long time before speaking. "I'm not afraid. I just don't want to hurt you, Morgan. And, if we keep going like this, I will."

"No, you won't-"

"Yes, I will. Look at us now! We're already making each other feel terrible. That's why I should leave. Before I do any more damage to someone I care about." He pulled away, but Morgan took him into his arms, tucking him against his chest.

"Now, you listen to me. I'm pretty tough, kiddo. I can take anything you can dish out." His voice had turned teasing, and Reid could hear the smile in his tone. He shook his head.

"I'm not joking. I can't... I'm not interested in a relationship. Not now, and maybe not ever. But, I think it's evident that you are. So-I should just... go."

"No." Morgan held him securely. "So, things are tough for you right now. I get that. I know you're not ready for... anything serious. Okay. But, you're hurting, man. You need to let go of it, to talk to someone. Why not me? You've always trusted me in the past. Why can't you trust me now?" He released his grip and searched Reid's face.

"I do trust you. That's why I'm here instead of..." Reid closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and gave Morgan a slight smile. "You're fooling yourself, you know. You think you're in control, that you can maintain an emotional detachment. But, I know you, and I'm sorry-you can't. You're not that kind of person."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "And, you are?"

A shrug. "More than you know."

"All right, fine, you're a cold-hearted bastard. I accept that. In fact, I give you full permission to fuck with my mind and break my heart into a billion little pieces. Now, will you relax?"

Reid's expression softened and he gave a small laugh. "Morgan, I don't want to do either of those things."

"That's okay-I happen to know you pretty well, too, and I happen to think you won't. And, if you do-well, let's just say, I'm willing to take my chances."

Reid slipped his arms around Morgan's neck, and for the first time in a long time, Morgan saw an impish grin cross the kid's face.

"So-having offered you full disclosure regarding the wickedness of my intentions, and having done due diligence in informing you of the hopelessness of the situation-you're still foolish enough to want to waste your time with me?"

Morgan kissed him, and was delighted when Reid kissed him back. He paused long enough to answer. "Yeah. I guess I am."

"Hmm. Leads me to question which of us is the unstable one. But, if that's what you want, fine, it's your decision." He wormed his way onto Morgan's lap. "So... if there's no more interrogation to be done, could we please get to that mind-blowing sex, now?"

"On two conditions."

Reid sighed. "What?"

"One, that you agree to talk to someone. If it can't be me, then Hotch, or Rossi."

Reid made a dismissive noise.

"All right then, a shrink, if that's what it takes. But, you can't go on like this. Whatever's getting to you, kid, sooner or later-it's going to take you out." He caressed Reid's face. "And, the team can't afford to lose you... I don't want to lose you. Understand?"

"Stop worrying. I'll be fine."

Morgan eased him onto his back, lay on top of him and stared into his eyes. "Promise me. Promise me you'll talk to someone."

"I'll think about it." At Morgan's frown, he added, "Okay, okay, I promise. What's the other thing?"

"That you stay. Sleep beside me tonight, Spencer. Wake up with me in the morning. Promise."

Reid blinked. Damn you, Morgan, you just don't get it, do you? Oh, well. He'd been as honest as he knew how, there was nothing more to be done to protect him. "Okay. Sure. If that's what you want."

Morgan smiled a little more triumphantly than Reid would have liked, then gave him a deep kiss. He took his time, kept steadying the fidgety young man under him, patiently helping him to focus and re-focus on what Morgan's hands and mouth were doing to him. Eventually, Reid did relax, lost himself in Morgan's touch, allowed himself to revel in the sweetness of warm kisses and the shivers of being lovingly caressed and tickled and stroked.

It was good. And, when at last he felt Morgan penetrate him, fill him; when Morgan hit his rhythm and their bodies moved together like music, when the powerful thrusting took him over the edge, Reid was someplace else. At that moment, his brain was engaged in something more compelling than memory. For just a little while, he forgot who he was, the things he'd done. Forgot the sight of a dead child's face and the goddamn helplessness that was eating him up inside.

When they finished, Reid rolled over and lay his head on Morgan's chest. He listened to his heartbeat and breathing as they slowed to normal. He felt Morgan's grip on him loosen as he relaxed into slumber. Reid gently extricated himself from his lover and lay beside him, eyes wide open, willing his mind to stay still and silent, for just a little while longer.

But, the clock ticked away the minutes. Reid stared at the ceiling, mentally flipping through image after image, drawing useless lines between multiple points on a compass.

The following morning, Reid sat with a phone and five file folders spread out before him on the conference room table. He dialed a number and a woman dully answered.

"Hello."

"Mrs. Watson?" Mrs. Watson's daughter, Taylor, was the third victim.

"Yes."

"Hello, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I'm an agent with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I'm working on a possible lead in your daughter Taylor's case, and I need some additional information from you. Do you have a moment to talk?"

Silence. Then, "I can't imagine what else you could want to know. I've answered every question in the world, and it hasn't done any good. That maniac is still running loose."

"We're working very hard to find him, ma'am. May I please ask you a few questions about your daughter?"

The woman's voice had a bitter, exhausted tone, but she answered, "All right. Go ahead."

"Ma'am, was your daughter ever involved in any kind of extracurricular activities?"

"Extracurricular? What do you mean?"

"Besides school, how did she spend her time away from home? Scouting? Volunteer groups? Something like that?"

"No, no, nothing like that. She was too focused on her studies. She was going to be... a doctor." Reid could hear the woman's voice falter. He cleared his throat.

"What about the arts? Dance, theater-music?"

"What?"

"Did she ever take any sort of lessons outside of school?"

"Oh, for God's sake. What has that got to do with anything?"

"Ma'am, please. It could be important." Reid bit his lip, hating to ask the next question in case the answer was "no." He took a deep breath. "Did Taylor ever take piano lessons?"

"Piano lessons?"

"Yes, ma'am. Did she ever take piano lessons from a woman named Jean Delaney?"

Mrs. Watson was quiet for a long moment. Then, she answered softly. "It was some time ago, but...yes. Yes, she did."