Morgan was asleep on the sofa in front of the TV when Hotch rang the doorbell that evening. He somehow knew it was Hotch instinctively from the way the bell seemed to adapt its tone to sound far more solemn than it usually did, as if it felt embarrassed on Morgan's behalf for the horrific state of his apartment, about to be inspected by his boss.

He panicked and shot upright, leading his shoulder to protest violently. He busily set about hiding the signs of his depression; the stack of empty cereal bowls and cookie dough ice-cream cartons on the coffee table, the conspicuously low running morphine bottle, the fact that he seemed to have woken up inadvertently watching 'the jewellery polishing channel' with the curtains drawn.

He then realised he was wearing pyjama bottoms at half seven in the evening, and hadn't shaved in two days, and gave up. It didn't take a profiler to see what a state he was in.

"Come in." he said self-consciously.

"Thanks. How are you feeling?" Hotch asked politely.

"Yeah, fine. You?" He lied, moving a stack of magazines and other debris off the couch and onto the coffee table. Hotch sat down politely, Morgan joined him.

"Good. Yes I'm okay."

"How's Reid?"

"Quiet apparently, but JJ said he seemed to be coping."

Morgan nodded. "So…is this a social call or what?"

"Partly. I also wanted to give you the news that I got the team working on a new case."

"Great. Thanks."

"No problem. I also wanted to see whether you would consider coming back to work."

"When?" Morgan asked, surprised.

"Tomorrow. If it's convenient."

"Hell yeah. I'm going nuts already."

Hotch smiled. At least Morgan thought he did. It was hard to tell. He wondered what the rush was to get him back to work so soon. Usually Hotch was completely anal retentive over making people take sick leave or compassionate leave. They would be short staffed without him and Reid but Hotch and Rossi probably could've handled things.

He came to the conclusion that Hotch probably wanted to keep an eye on him.

"Great. I have the new case files with me now if you want to catch up before tomorrow."

He handed Morgan the file.

"Also, I wanted to give you this." He reached into his pocket and gave Morgan a business card. "It's the number for a counsellor I went to after my divorce. He's separate from the FBI, so you don't need to worry about it going on your record. Things can get sticky when they diagnose PTSD for example. Look at Gideon, he was barely allowed to come back, and he was much more experienced than you."

Morgan looked at it silently.

"Thanks." he said.

Hotch looked surprised.

"I didn't expect you to take that so well."

Morgan gave a half-hearted laugh.

"Neither would I before all this. You would've had to drag me there in chains."

Hotch watched him silently.

"I guess I'm scared now. For real." Morgan's eyes stung. "I don't think I can handle this on my own."

Hotch squeezed his shoulder. "You don't have to." He said.

Morgan nodded wiping his eyes impatiently.

"What about Reid? Is he coming back?"

"I haven't spoken to him yet but knowing him, I'd imagine so."

Morgan looked down.

"He knows you're not to blame." Hotch said calmly.

"I know. I know he does, but he…" Morgan closed his eyes. "If he knew…about me…he might hate me anyway." Hotch opened his mouth to argue but Morgan cut him off, "And even if…even if he can forgive me…every time I look at him…and every time he looks at me, I'll remember, and he'll remember and it's gonna drive the both of us crazy, you know?"

Hotch nodded.

"I understand how hard it will be. Really, I do. But I want you both to try anyway. I think this is something you can't run away from, and it'll take time, but if you want to repair your friendship with Reid you have to see him. You need him to help you get through this. And he needs you."

"You think?" Morgan asked doubtfully.

"Yes I do."

"Okay. Well I'll see you tomorrow then."

Hotch stood up and cast a critical eye over his apartment.

"Don't be late. And stop eating ice cream for breakfast, you're a grown man for heaven's sake."

Morgan laughed weakly.

"Sorry boss." He said.

"See you tomorrow." The door closed behind him.

"See you." Morgan said. The quietness of his apartment frightened him so he turned the TV back on.

He glanced at his phone out of habit to see if there were any messages from Reid, though he didn't expect any. Then he suddenly had a thought. What if Hotch was going to Reid's place now? Some instinct told him Reid might need some time to prepare himself. He pressed the call button before he could chicken out. His stomach fluttered as he waited for him to pick up. The first time it went to answerphone but the second time he answered.

"Morgan?"

For a moment Morgan couldn't think about anything other than how much he'd missed this voice. Then his profiler training kicked in and told him the voice was slurred and confused and most likely intoxicated.

"Reid…are you okay? You sound kinda weird."

There was an incoherent groan.

"Reid?"

"yeahhp. I'mff-fine. You?"

"Where are you?"

"Umm…I appear to be in the bath." Reid laughed. "But I'm wearing clothes."

It looked like he had been right to call.

"Okay…look, Hotch came over to ask me to come back to work. Most likely he'll be round to your place in about five minutes to-"

"Ohh god." Reid mumbled, and there was a muffled scrabbling sound as he attempted to remove himself from the bath.

"Are you high Reid?"

"No. There's just…a serious…design flaw…in this tub…"

"Reid? What's going on?"

Reid hung up.

Unbeknown to Morgan, Reid had actually dropped his phone onto the bathroom floor in his panic and the battery had skidded under the sink.

"No no no no no no NO." he muttered, frantically cleaning up all traces of his drug habit from the bathroom and tugging down the sleeves of his navy sweater to cover the needle marks before turning and vomiting into the toilet, clutching the sink for balance. He was sweating and trembling, his hair was a tangled mess and his eyes were bloodshot.

What the hell was I thinking? How am I going to convince Hotch to let me come back to work when I can hardly stand up? One look at me and he'll probably section me. Perhaps they can find me a nice room with a garden view next to my mother's in the asylum.

He wiped his mouth and flushed the toilet, taking deep breaths.

Leaning on the wall for balance he made it to the kitchen and drank two and a half glasses of water, combing his hair with his fingers.

There was a knock on the door.

Reid shuffled to the door and let Hotch in.

"Oh hey." He tried to smile. It hurt. Everything hurt. He was confused and tired and disoriented. Why did Hotch have to choose this moment to visit him?

"Good evening Reid. I hope this isn't a bad time."

"Nope, it's fine, I'm just a little tired. Come in. Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you. I just came by to see how you're feeling. Are the antibiotics working yet?"

"Uhh…yeah, actually I think they're really doing the trick now."

He actually had at least remembered to take the antibiotics. There was something about taking a pill, any pill, which held a desperate kind of hope, even though he knew they would only treat the chest infection, on some level he still hoped, however irrationally, that they would miraculously cure all his other problems too. They hadn't of course. But the cough was less painful.

"I'm glad. I wanted to see how you felt about coming back to work tomorrow. Only if you're better of course."

Reid was stunned. Morgan had told him they were being asked back to work but he hadn't quite believed it. It made no sense. He had prepared himself to be forced into at least a month of sick leave.

"Yes! I mean sure, tomorrow. I'll be there. Really? Tomorrow?"

"Yes. If you feel up to it I see no reason for you to be stuck at home. The team misses you, and Morgan too." He looked at Reid carefully.

Just in time, Reid's frazzled brain remembered that he wasn't meant to know Morgan was also coming back to work.

"Morgan's coming back too?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

Reid shrugged.

"I understand it may be too much stress for you to see him again, but I think the best thing you can do right now is to try to get back to normal."

Reid nodded absentmindedly.

"What's happening with the court case?" he asked Hotch.

Hotch hesitated. "The trial's in a couple of weeks, but I've heard Eric's lawyer is talking about filing for it to be delayed because of Eric needing to be hospitalized after Morgan attacked him. They're claiming police brutality. It won't stick in court but it confuses things for long enough for them to work out a strategy."

"A strategy?" Reid started to bite the edges of his fingers anxiously.

"They're clutching at straws most likely. I'd say they're looking at life imprisonment for sure."

Reid nodded. Hotch reached into his pocket and handed him a card with a phone number on it.

"This is the number for a private counsellor I highly recommend."

Reid looked at it doubtfully. "Thanks Hotch, but I'm okay, really."

"No one should have to go through this alone. He'll know the best way to support you."

"How?" Reid snapped, exasperated. "How can he possibly know? Because he read it in some psychology textbook and passed some exams? We both know I'm probably ten times more qualified than he is to do his job!"

"That may be so, but even the most brilliant doctors aren't supposed to self-medicate. You can't treat yourself Reid, because you can't be objective."

"Who says I need treatment? I mean yeah, something really, really bad happened to me, but it's over now. It's done. I just want to be left alone."

"I'm sorry Reid. The last thing I want is to cause you any more pain, but I have to insist. If I hear from him that you haven't made an appointment with him by the end of the week I'm going to suspend you for three months of sick leave."

Reid almost lost it then. He thought Hotch of all people he could trust. But he knew that yelling would only cement Hotch's determination to make him go. He sighed and leaned his head against the door.

"You don't have to talk about what happened if it's too painful. He's not going to force you."

"Thanks for dropping by, but I think I need to go to bed." Reid said coldly.

"Of course. Sorry to keep you up. And don't worry if you're still too tired in the morning. Just come back whenever you're ready."

"Thank you sir. I'll see you tomorrow."

Reid closed the door behind him, and sat down on the floor while he waited for the room to stop tilting.

Was he ready to go back to work? He didn't know. He couldn't think straight, his head hurt so much. But when he considered the alternative of returning to his catatonic state of depression, lying in bed hating the world for days on end, he felt like having a panic attack. Plus, if he kept acting like this people would start to interfere even more. Part of him knew they were doing their best to help him, but it just felt like he was being patronised.

On his hands and knees he crawled into the bathroom and threw up again. He sat there next to the toilet wishing for death while he waited for the sickness to leave. He dozed off with his sweaty forehead against the cold bath until he was woken by the doorbell ringing again. He couldn't face standing up this time.

"Reid are you there?" It was Morgan.

Reid lifted his head and tried to call out but his throat was too dry. He suddenly felt panicked.

There was a loud crash and then Morgan was crouching next to him, rubbing his back and feeling his forehead.

"Did you just break my door down?" Reid mumbled.

"Sorry." Morgan laughed. "I didn't damage it, don't worry. I've had plenty of practise."

Morgan disappeared for a moment and came back with a bottle of water. Reid gulped it down gratefully.

"I think you should probably get some rest."

"I am resting."

"Wouldn't you be a little more comfortable in bed?"

Reid grimaced and shook his head weakly.

"Would you mind if I carried you there?" Morgan asked gently.

Reid shook his head harder. "I'm not a child," he groaned.

Morgan's face fell and he took his hand away from Reid's back.

"You're sick. It doesn't make you any less of a man."

Reid glared at him.

"Quit profiling me. And I'm not sick, I'm in opiate withdrawal."

He pulled himself to his feet and walked slowly to his bedroom, though the effort nearly made him throw up again. Morgan followed behind him. The bed was messy and unmade. Reid took off his jeans but kept his sweater on and lay down and pulled the duvet around himself, shivering.

"Is there anything you need?" Morgan asked.

Reid shook his head. Morgan hesitated then turned to leave. Suddenly scared again, Reid reached out and grabbed his hand. For a moment they just stared at each other.

"Can you sleep in here?" Reid said. He regretted the words before he'd finished saying them, but Morgan didn't seem to question the reason for the request, just said, "Of course." and smiled in a way that for a split second made him feel like everything would be okay. He took his shoes off and lay down carefully on his side next to Reid. Reid suddenly wanted to move closer to him, to fall asleep being held by somebody. But he knew that he could never be ill enough for that to be socially acceptable. Morgan being in the same bed was inappropriate enough.

He surprised himself. He usually never initiated physical intimacy, though he didn't particularly mind it. It got him thinking again about his body's response to the rape. Was Eric right about him? Did he subconsciously want to be abused? Was it partly his own fault?

Involuntarily he groaned and clutched his head as he remembered the way he just lay there underneath Morgan taking it like...what did Eric call him? A dirty whore.

He felt a hand on his arm and turned to face Morgan, about to make up an excuse about a headache, but Morgan spoke first.

"I do that too." He smiled sadly. "Whenever something reminds me of them I clutch my head just like that."

Reid nodded. He looked at Morgan's hand still resting comfortingly on his arm. He put his own hand on top of it and moved it further around him until Morgan got the message and put his arm all the way around him. They shifted closer, Reid rested his head against Morgan's T-shirt, breathing him in.

It made him feel better, but also worse in that it made his brain speed off on a tangent worrying what it meant that he liked being in bed with another man. He also worried about how Morgan interpreted the gesture. Was he just doing it out of pity or guilt? Did he feel lonely too, and just wanted to be close to the other person who knew what he was going through? Or…did he want him, like in a sexual way? He knew Morgan was straight but maybe he was confused by what happened? Many male rape victims felt unsure about their sexual identity after being attacked, especially since he had a history of sexual abuse anyway.

And he had been able to reach an orgasm when they were forced to…but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

He sat up, his pulse racing slightly. Morgan looked at him all concerned.

"You okay?"

There was a silence while Reid tried to think of a way to excuse his erratic behaviour.

"I think…I'm okay now. Thank you. You don't need to stay over." He mumbled uncomfortably.

"It's no trouble."

"Please. I want you to…" he stopped, unable to think of a way to phrase it without sounding harsh.

"Oh. Okay." Morgan frowned. "Call me any time if you need anything."

"Yeah. Thanks." Reid replied despondently. He lay back down and Morgan turned the light off before he left.

Even when returned to solitude Reid couldn't calm the tense knot in his stomach.

As always, thank you for your reviews (: a few of you seem to want more from Morgan's perspective, which is actually how I originally planned it, but I sort of ended up on Reid. I suppose it depends on who I can empathise with the most at the time I'm writing, and I want to get into both of their heads so I understand their feelings better. But do not fear, your requests have been noted, and I will make the next section more about Morgan. They're both kind of in denial at the moment, and Morgan is holding it together on the outside for Reid's sake at the moment, but they can't keep it up forever.

Oh also I'm going away to the countryside for a couple of weeks starting tomorrow. *sarcastic cheer* So no updates until my return. ):