Hello again my beauties! I am terribly sorry about how long it has taken me to update this story, it is inexcusable! Many, many thanks to all who followed or favorited me or the story, and or reviewed! Okie-dokie, here we go :D

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Reid POV:

Morgan sits gently next to me, and I feel a hot tear slide down my cheek. 'God Spencer, get ahold of yourself! Why must you always be so weak!' I get ready to laugh off my crying and blame it on exhaustion, when the headache that had momentarily subsided comes rushing back to life. The pain is more intense than anything previously, the lights in the hotel room suddenly becoming painfully bright. My hands grip my head in agony, trying to keep my skull in one piece. "Morgan!" my voice comes out thready and breathless, "It hurts!"

"What's wrong?!" Morgan's voice is so loud; it leaves my ears ringing and creates little bubbles of black that pop in front of my eyes. I cringe back from the noise and whimper; my eyes squeezed shut, hands clamped over my ears. Morgan notices and quickly lowers his voice to barely a whisper, "What's wrong, kid? What can I do to help?"

My voice quavers and rattles inside my skull, but I just barely manage to croak out, "Lights . . . P-please, they h-hurt so bad . . . !" I sense him move as I scrunch myself into the fetal position on the bed. The light switch clicks and everything goes dark, before I hear the bedside lamp turn on, bathing everything in a soft glow.

"It's alright now pretty boy, you can open your eyes." His hand settles gently between my shoulders and begins to move soothingly back and forth. Slowly, I crack my eyes open, quickly turning my face away from the lamp when even that small light proves too much. Unfortunately, the act of turning my head awoke a wave of nausea that chose that moment to bowl me over.

"M-Morgan . . . I'm gonna be sick!" I try to push myself up, when I feel strong arms reach behind my back and under my knees, lifting me up like a damsel in distress. "Oh well, I can feel embarrassed later." Within seconds, I feel myself being placed on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. And as if that was a signal, my dinner comes surging back up my throat. I feel Morgan position me over the toilet, but not before some of the vomit lands in my lap. One of his hands pulls my long sweaty hair out of my face, and the other gently soothes up and down my back, sliding calmly over the convulsing muscles. Eventually, my retching turns into dry heaves that rattle my brain against my skull. The pain from the headache mixed with the pain from the dry heaving is just too much, and my trembling muscles relax as I pass out.

Morgan POV:

"M-Morgan . . . I'm gonna be sick!" Reid's voice wavers, the exclamation tinged with panic. He tries to push himself up and I almost want to smack him. 'Does he honestly think that I'm going to let him try to get there by himself when he can't even fully open his eyes?!' Leaning forward, I scoop him up in a bridal hold and hurry to the bathroom. I set him on the floor, but before I have time to position him over the toilet, a heave wracks his thin frame and he vomits in his lap. I quickly move him to the toilet, and hold his hair back as he heaves again and again, emptying his stomach and then some, dry heaves following the vomit. Incessant shivers travel through his body as he continues to heave even though there's nothing left, his face scrunched in pain, and frustrated tears spiking his lashes. Finally, when he's about done, he gives one last shudder, his eyes roll back in their sockets, and he passes out.

I catch him just before his head connects with the tub, and ease him down to the floor. "Damn!" I tap his cheek a few times, but to no avail; Reid is really and truly out. Although I don't suppose I can blame him; anyone would pass out after all that. I give him a once over, and realize that if I want to put him in the bed, then I'm going to have to give him a bath and change his clothes. I chuckle to myself as I start to run a bath. The kid never really likes anyone to see him 'in a state of undress' as he puts it, probably because he's self-conscious about how skinny he is. "He's not gonna be happy about this!"

I carefully remove the button up and undershirt he's wearing, then move on to his pants. Granted, this is sorta uncomfortable for me, but I'm still really glad that Reid's out of it; this would just upset him more. When I remove his boxers, I try my best to avert my eyes well at the same time lifting him into the tub; not a particularly easy task. Once I get him situated, I quickly rinse him off, pull him out, and wrap him in one of the hotel towels. I carry Reid back into the bedroom, lay him on the bed, put him in some clean boxers, and tuck him under the covers after toweling his hair dry. "I'll only ever do that for you man, only for you! Be glad you're like my little brother," I mutter as I pull out my cell and call Hotch. Something's definitely wrong with Reid!

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I'M SOOOO SORRY! I know it's really short I'll try to update really soon, I promise!