Warning: This chapter contains discussion of self-harm.

The morning dawned dark and rainy with thunder rumbling overhead, as though it had taken up residence over Spencer's apartment during the night and refused to leave. When Derek woke, bleary eyed and exhausted, he looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table that blazed 9:15 am. He had slept almost a full 2 hours later than he usually did. It would have felt like a luxury if not for the circumstances.

He sat up in bed and rubbed his hands over his face, stretched, and then looked at the figure beside him who was still curled up under the blankets. Spencer was turned to face Derek, only the top of his head and curly brown locks visible. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully and Derek knew he needed it, so he carefully moved from the bed and crept across the carpet. He grabbed his jeans from the floor and stepped into them on his way to the door, slipping from the room. If he had breakfast prepared before Spencer woke up, maybe he could convince the kid to eat something.

The events of the previous night felt like nothing more than a dream. No, a nightmare. It still made Derek sick to think what might have happened if he hadn't made the decision to turn around and come back to Spencer's apartment; if he hadn't ignored the kid's wishes and stayed. The past 10 hours only solidified the feelings he had for the young man. If he was hoping to escape his emotions he was certainly screwed now, and he had come dangerously close to letting Spencer see just how much he truly cared about him.

The night had devolved from uncertainty and fear into a torrent of tears, angry words, and murmurs of comfort – Derek saying things he never thought he would hear himself say, but words that slipped from his mouth as he tried to help Spencer regain his senses. At least Spencer had been so out of it he probably hadn't noticed how over-protective and emotional Derek was acting, completely out of character for their normal day-to-day friendship.

After Derek finally coaxed Spencer out of the bathroom the kid had collapsed in his arms in tears, and he completely lost track of time. All he knew was that he had sat on the floor in the hallway, holding the sobbing young man against his chest and feeling thankful that Spencer was finally letting go of his tightly held emotions. He had rocked him, stroked his hair, whispered to him, until the tears subsided and Spencer finally drifted off to sleep with his head on Derek's shoulder.

Derek was so exhausted by that point that he had carried Spencer to bed and climbed right in next to him, shucking his shirt and jeans. The boy had instinctively curled up against Derek's much larger frame, seeking his warmth, and Derek had felt his heart skip a beat as he wrapped his arms around the young man, guilt consuming him for feeling so happy under the circumstances. He had fallen asleep listening to the sound of the rain pounding on the window and with the young man he cared for held tight against him.

The first thing Derek did was put a pot of coffee on, knowing Spencer would make a beeline for it. He searched the fridge and found a carton of eggs and a container of orange juice. There was bread on the counter and he dropped two pieces into the toaster, grabbed a couple of plates from the cupboard, and found the cups and silverware without much effort. Spencer had a small kitchen table for two and Derek set out the dishes, marveling that this was more work than he usually did for himself in the mornings, most often opting to grab a bagel or muffin on his way to work.

He had cracked the eggs into a bowl and had just begun scrambling them when he heard a soft bang from the bedroom. His nerves already on edge, he rushed from the kitchen and burst into the bedroom without pretense, his heart pounding in his chest. "Spencer?"

The young man was hurriedly opening and closing drawers to his dresser, grabbing clothes and flinging them on the bed. Derek had to step into his line of view to get his attention. "Spencer, you okay?"

Spencer looked up at him sharply, and he could see the confusion clearly written in his gaze. "You're still here?"

Derek blinked, a little taken aback. He wondered just how much Spencer remembered from the night before. He was willing to bet a lot of it had been repressed or erased from his mind during the night. "Yeah," he said. "I'm still here."

Spencer made his way over to the closet and pulled the door open, rifling through his button-down shirts. "Shouldn't you be at work? Just because I'm late doesn't mean you need to be."

"Wait," Derek said, clarity dawning on him. "Spencer, you don't need to get ready for work. I called us both out."

Spencer turned on him in a flash, looking panicked. "Why would you do that?"

Derek swallowed hard. Yet again he felt like he had done the wrong thing, even though he knew it was right. He heard the toaster ding in the distance. "Because I thought you needed a day or two to rest."

Spencer turned back to the closet, pulling down a blue button down. Damn he would look good in that. Derek shook his head. Focus. "Well, you shouldn't have," Spencer said.

Derek dared to step toward him. "You had kind of a rough night, kid," he said softly. "I figured it would be good for you to sleep in, take it easy for a while."

"I don't need to do that."

"I disagree."

Spencer's hazel eyes flashed. "Look," he said. "I appreciate what you…what you did for me last night. And I'm sorry for what I put you through." His cheeks reddened slightly. "But it's really nothing I need to miss work over – and neither should you."

"Well, too bad," Derek shot back. "As far as the team is concerned you're sick and I had to run out of town, so you're not going in today and you're stuck with me, end of story."

Spencer opened his mouth, perfect lips parting, and then closed it again. Derek was hoping he had managed to win this – yet another – battle of wills between them.

"Does anyone…know?" he said quietly.

Derek shook his head. "No one knows what happened. But," he said uncomfortably. "I can tell you that JJ is worried about you. And…well…Hotch knows I'm here with you."

Now Spencer's cheeks colored with anger. "Hotch knows? What the Hell, Derek? This is like the time I told you about my nightmares and you went straight to Gideon!"

Derek took a step closer to the young man, his hands in the air. "I didn't tell Hotch anything, I promise. He knows something's up with you but he doesn't know what, and all he's certain of is that I'm here with you."

Spencer flung the shirt he was holding onto the bed. "He's going to think I'm weak!"

Derek shook his head, reaching out to put a hand on Spencer's bare shoulder and then pulling back sharply. "No one thinks you're weak, I promise."

"Well you obviously do!" Spencer rounded on him again. "Who gave you permission to spend the night here anyway?"

"I didn't want to leave you alone."

"I'm fine," Spencer stressed. "I would have been perfectly fine if you had just stayed out of my business in the first place and let me take care of myself. It's not like I don't know how to do that."

"Spencer, I couldn't leave you alone – not in the condition you were in. What kind of person would that make me?"

"Someone who knows how to respect privacy! Why the Hell did you come over here last night anyway, Derek?" he practically yelled, "Why couldn't you just stay away and leave me alone?"

A dam broke and Derek felt his anger surge – the kind of red-hot anger that only fear for someone you care about could provoke. "It's a damn good thing I didn't leave you alone!" he almost shouted, unable to control himself. "I found you bleeding on the fucking bathroom floor, Spencer! How the Hell is that taking care of yourself? How am I not supposed to worry about you when you're clearly hurting? What the fuck would have happened if I hadn't shown up when I did? Can you tell me that? Can you honestly say that you would have stopped the bleeding on your own?" He was practically shaking with fury. "Can you honestly tell me that you're not going to do something like that ever again? Because your word isn't enough for me right now. I care about you too damn much to see you hurt yourself, and I am not going to let it happen again. You think you can take care of yourself? That is bullshit! How long before you want to cut yourself again? How long until you're hysterical looking for those blades I threw away? So I'm not sorry I couldn't stay away, Spencer, because you fucking scared me to death last night and I am never, ever letting you hurt yourself again!"

Spencer stared at him for a moment in complete shock, his eyes glittering with tears. Derek had never spoken to him like that before, and he immediately felt guilty. But it was something that needed to be said and he wasn't sorry.

The young man took a slow step backwards and felt behind him for the edge of the bed, lowering himself down next to the pile of clothes. He looked down at the bandaged arm that was resting on one of his knees, still thankfully free of blood, and ran a finger down the binding.

Derek shivered.

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispered, so low it was barely audible.

Derek took a step forward and dropped to his knees, looking up into Spencer's face, forcing their eyes to meet. "I'm sorry too," he said softly. He captured Spencer's hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs over his knuckles. "I didn't mean to yell at you. You just…you just scared me so damn much, Spencer." He felt tears threatening and pushed them back. "Do you understand?"

Spencer nodded slowly and lowered his head, trying to hide his face behind the curtain of his hair. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I know…I-I know you're only trying to help."

"That's right. That's all I want to do."

"It's just that…" There was a long pause and Derek patiently waited for the young man to continue. "I just…I don't know how you can…help me."

Derek took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Can I at least try?" he asked, finally feeling like he was getting somewhere. "Will you talk to me?"

Another long pause, and then Spencer nodded again, still not looking at Derek's face.

"Good." This time Derek breathed a sigh of relief. "And I promise that whatever you tell me will stay between us, you got that?"

Another nod.

Derek stood, not releasing Spencer's hands, and tugged lightly. "Come on," he said. "Let's put these clothes away and get something to eat. I'm not much of a cook, but I think I can manage eggs and toast."

"I'm not really very hungry."

"Well can I at least interest you in a cup of coffee?"

That got a very quiet, "ok," and Derek had to smile. Didn't hurt to appeal to the kid's weakness. "Can you bring it in here though?" Spencer asked.

"Of course." Derek left the kid where he was and walked to the door. He turned back and saw that Spencer hadn't moved. "You gonna pick up those clothes and put them away, or am I gonna come back in here and find you fully dressed for work and trying to climb down a drain pipe?"

Spencer did look up at that and smiled. His smile was like nothing else Derek had ever seen before…it seemed like forever since he had seen it in full force. It made him want to grab Spencer up in his arms and kiss him.

Sweet Jesus. He shook his head hard, dispelling the thought.

"I promise I'm not going to climb down the drain pipe."

"Good." Derek started to walk out of the room.

"Derek?" the kid's voice stopped him in his tracks and he turned in the doorway. "Last night," he said uncomfortably. "I don't…I'm not sure…what would have happened," he managed. "If you hadn't shown up. So…thank you."

Derek couldn't find his voice so he nodded in acknowledgement and left the room. Once outside he took a deep breath. Thank God. Thank God he had come back last night. Spencer's words only solidified what he had been fearing. And what would he have done if he hadn't shown up when Spencer needed him and he had lost his pretty boy? What would he do?

He didn't intend to find out.

TBC