When he got back to his apartment feeling hung over and worthless there was a message blinking on his answerphone and his heart nearly stopped because it could've been Reid, and maybe he'd missed his only chance to talk to him because he'd been too busy screwing Hotch's brother. He was so sure it was Reid. For one irrational moment he panicked in case he'd somehow found out about him and Sean. He waited with his finger on the button for a whole minute before he pressed it, repeating 'I'm sorry' a hundred times in his head first, like that could possibly make a difference.

It was Hotch.

"Hey Derek, I'm outside your apartment right now and you're not answering, and you turned off your cell…I don't know where you are but if you can hear this please pick up?"

There was a pause. Morgan poured himself a measure of the vodka he'd bought on the way home, with trembling hands and downed it.

"No I didn't think so. Well wherever you are, be careful, and if you need anything I'll be at home. Don't hesitate to call me if you want to talk. Uh…right. Goodbye then." And he hung up.

Silence again.

The whole day stretched out in front of him suddenly, vast and empty. Alone.

Derek Morgan denying his feelings and pushing away the people who try to help him. Never saw that coming.

He switched the TV on to drown out his thoughts, poured himself another vodka, and started unloading the dishwasher to keep his hands busy. He was putting glasses away in the cupboard when he noticed that there was still a red wine stain inside one of the expensive, delicate wine glasses. He scowled and kicked the dishwasher, (possibly not the best idea in the world) and accused it of deliberately slacking off to spite him.

He turned on the hot tap and ran the glass underneath, then squirted some dish soap into it. In the middle of this he suddenly realised he could hear his phone vibrating in his jacket pocket and freaked out so much he dropped the glass into the sink and it exploded, embedding a sizeable shard in his hand between his thumb and first finger, drawing blood.

"AHH! HELL…FUCKING…SON OF A BITCH!" he yelled, apparently so rattled that his brain couldn't decide on a single cuss-word to use. He sucked on the wound and reached for a dish towel to wrap around the cut.

As if I didn't have enough problems already.

He ran into the other room and dug frantically through the pockets of his jacket to get his phone.

After all that, it was Young.

"What?" Morgan said aggressively.

"Wow…well I guess that answers the question of whether you're still mad at me." Young joked nervously.

"I'm not mad." Morgan said wearily, surprising himself. "I just dropped a glass when the phone rang. I thought you were…um."

"You thought I was Reid."

"Yeah it was stupid." Morgan said.

"It's not at all stupid." Young said seriously.

There was a short pause.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you straight away." Young said solemnly.

"It's fine." Morgan said dismissively.

"No, it's not. It was a really bad thing I did, and the irony is that I put off telling you because I'm just a big coward and I didn't want you to hate me. And I do think of you as a friend. To tell you the truth, you and Reid are the only real friends I've had in a long time. Apart from Aaron I mean." His voice was a little slurred and emotional.

"Man, have you been drinking?" Morgan asked.

"Maybe." Young said cagily.

"It's 8:00am!" Morgan said.

"Really? My watch says its…" he paused and there was a clinking of bottles. "Peach Schnapps o'clock." He sounded surprised. "That's what this was?"

Morgan laughed. "Schnapps? I hate to tell you this but that's a little gay. Real men drink vodka for breakfast."

"Wait you're drunk too? Oh my God you hypocrite!" Young laughed. "You almost made me feel ashamed of my alcoholism."

Morgan laughed.

"Anyway…where was I? I had a speech planned. Fuck I wrote it down somewhere… so basically to summarize: I did a really bad thing and I suck and I really…really hope you can forgive me."

"You're forgiven" Morgan smiled. "Now for God's sake step away from the schnapps."

"Seriously? How comes you're not angry anymore?" Young asked curiously.

"Yeah, well I'm not exactly perfect am I?" Morgan mumbled. "So I can't really blame you. Everybody does really shitty things sometimes. Doesn't make you a bad person." Or so I hear.

"You're the best, man." Young told him happily. "Dude, d'you wanna go out somewhere and drink? Drinking in the morning is less pathetic when you're in a group."

"Thanks for the offer but I think I'm just gonna go back to bed. I didn't really get to sleep last night."

"Okay fair enough. Just me and my schnapps then. Schnapps. Man that's a nice word."

"Bye Young." Morgan laughed and hung up.

He unwrapped his hand from the bloody towel and looked at the wound. It was deep but it had nearly stopped bleeding and didn't feel like it'd torn anything vital. He wasn't that bothered about getting a small scar (he had plenty more where that came from) so he decided it wasn't worth getting it sutured.

He stared at the blood for a while, squeezing his hand muscles a little to get more out. He felt massively calmed down by the sight of it and the dull throbbing pain. Eventually he shook himself out of his daze and went to get a dressing from the medicine cabinet. Then he brushed his teeth and got into bed.

...

He only meant to sleep for an hour or two but instead slept through until around 7:45pm when he was woken by Hotch ringing the doorbell.

"How are you feeling?" Hotch asked once they were sat down.

Like there are rats in my chest eating me up from the inside, trying to claw their way up my throat.

Morgan shrugged. "Been better I guess." He said. "I'm sorry I didn't call and warn you I was going to be out last night. It was good of you to come round."

"You don't have to apologise." Hotch said. Mercifully he didn't pry into where Morgan had been all night. "I only wanted to discuss where you are in regards to coming back to work. I've organised for you to have a week off work, but I'm not making it compulsory. If you wake up and think 'I can't do this today' then that's fine, but if you need the distraction then that's also fine."

"What about everybody else?" Morgan asked, knowing the whole team would be hit hard by the loss of its youngest member.

"Prentiss and Garcia both said they could manage without time off. I offered JJ the same deal but she refused it as well."

Morgan clenched his jaw at the mention of their names. Hotch saw his reaction.

"Don't be too hard on them. They meant well."

Morgan let out a short, bitter, crazy laugh. "They meant well." He repeated, like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Hotch wisely left the subject alone. Morgan scratched the dressing on his hand.

"What happened?" Hotch asked when he noticed it.

"Dropped a glass." Morgan said, pressing down on the cut. The pain made the rage duller, made everything duller. It was actually pretty cool. "It wasn't very deep but it itches like hell." He lied.

"That usually means it's healing." Hotch said reassuringly. "I've got a clumsy five year old son so I know what I'm talking about when it comes to injuries like that."

Morgan smiled and nodded distractedly.

"Hotch…?" He began a question which had been bugging him.

"Yes?"

"Why haven't you found him yet? I mean I get that he doesn't want to be found and he's probably covering his tracks pretty good, but surely Garcia could have figured something out by now?"

Hotch hesitated. "Yes, Garcia actually had the same idea. She was desperate to find a way to make it up to you." He said. "But I stopped her."

"You're kidding right?" Morgan snapped, frustrated. "I'm starting to think you don't want him back!"

Hotch looked at him coldly. "He's not an unsub Morgan. Could you just think for a second about how Reid might react to being hunted down and forced to face us when he's not ready?"

Of course now he's already gone you all start respecting his wish for privacy. Morgan thought bitterly, looking down. He dug his thumb into his hand almost unconsciously.

"It's not like I planned to drag him back home or anything." He said defensively. "I just need to know what the hell he's thinking. I need to know where I stand."

Hotch looked at him silently for a while before speaking.

"You're not going to like what I'm about to say to you, but I'm going to say it anyway." He said firmly. "I know you're angry and I know you've been hurt just as bad as Reid has by this, but if you love that boy as much as I know you do, then you should try to understand that this was his decision, and that this is what he needs, instead of throwing blame around at people who are trying to help."

Morgan winced as he felt the healed wound split open again under his thumb, felt the warmth seep out of his hand and into the dressing. He hid his hand between his knees so Hotch wouldn't see the red stain on the dressing.

"How exactly do you think any of you can help me now?" he hissed. It took all his self-restraint not to yell at his boss. "He LEFT ME Hotch. I'd do anything for him and he left me here to rot! And not only do I have to cope without my best friend, I now have to deal with the fact that everybody knows…no, everybody saw exactly what I did to him." He put his head in his uninjured hand and closed his eyes, trying to calm down. His voice broke a little at the next part, "You can't even begin to imagine how humiliated I feel. And I honestly don't know how I'm ever gonna get past the guilt…the shame." He laughed ironically. "Which by the way is a feeling that I never expected to have to face TWICE in my lifetime because THIS TEAM couldn't keep its goddamned nose out of my business, even when I told you I wanted to keep it private!" he growled.

He heard Hotch sigh.

"They were wrong to do what they did…" Hotch said solemnly.

"But?" Morgan said sarcastically, expecting more 'they were only trying to help' bullshit.

"No buts. They were wrong. You didn't deserve any of this." He said, squeezing his shoulder. "And I'm so sorry it happened. And now it's up to you whether you have it in you to try to forgive them or not. But either way we all need to try and make the best of the situation. You don't know how long he'll be gone for. You can't spend all that time angry."

"Wanna bet?" Morgan asked through gritted teeth.

"Try to find the positives in the situation." Hotch said. "I know that sounds ridiculous but there are some. For example you don't have to feel responsible for Reid's welfare, you can just focus on your own. You don't have to pretend to be okay when you're actually not, because nobody expects you to be okay. It's out in the open. And your friends are feeling guilty as hell and desperate to support you however they can. You'll probably never have to pay for a drink again in your life."

Morgan gave a half-smile and shook his head. "At the moment I seriously can't see myself ever forgiving them for this. I can't just go back to normal and pretend it never happened. I wish I never had to see them again." He clenched his jaw.

Hotch looked at the floor. For a moment he didn't speak.

"Just talk to them, that's all I ask. Even if it's just to tell them how sickened you are by their behaviour. Maybe once you've let it all out, this rage you feel will go away." He said finally. "It might make you feel better."

"Yeah well…I'll think about it." Morgan humored him, though truthfully he found them so repulsive at the moment that even the thought of yelling at them brought no enjoyment.

"Do you think you'll come to work tomorrow?" Hotch asked.

"We'll see." Morgan said. Hotch nodded.

When he left, Morgan lay on the couch drinking more vodka and singing along to Coldplay's Mylo Xyloto on the sound system until he passed out again.

...

The next morning he decided to go to work after all. His head hurt like hell and he would've given anything not to have to see the three women, but in the end he figured that the sooner he could get back to normal the sooner everybody would leave him alone.

Also there was a part of him which made him want to go in purely out of spite, he was still so angry at Reid for leaving, that in a way he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was missing him.

He was perfectly aware that Reid wouldn't know either way. And that even if he did find out somehow it was unlikely he'd read into the fact that Morgan had returned to work two days after his leaving and interpret it as the personal slight on him it was meant to be. Even to Morgan his reasoning made no sense. But that was the best he could do at translating his twisted emotions when he was still a little drunk from the night before and he couldn't find any aspirin.

It was approximately 2 minutes after he entered the building that he started to regret his decision.

Everything was too loud and bright and claustrophobic because of the hangover, he was behind on his cases and his normally clear and organised desk was left in a mess by whoever was trying to cover his work, and when he walked in (wearing shades and clutching a bottle of mineral water like it was the elixir for eternal life) Prentiss and JJ looked at him like he was an African orphan street-kid dying of AIDs and starvation right there on the floor.

Save your pity for Reid. He thought bitterly.

He scowled at them and ignored them, walking on past up to Hotch's office to tell him he was there. He asked if he could do his work in a separate room to avoid having his stomach turned by the three traitorous witches (not exactly in those words) but Hotch just looked down at his paperwork and told him to stop acting like a child, and that if he wasn't prepared to be professional about working with them then he shouldn't bother coming back to work at all.

He hadn't really even expected Hotch to say yes, but the refusal still got his blood heated.

He sat down at his desk, feeling their eyes on him all the time, and spent an hour re-organising the shit out of his work space right down to sharpening his pencils to the exact same length. When that was done he felt a little less anxious, and was able to get some work done. He was typing up a profile for a case of escalating arson attacks in Kansas where a woman had accidentally been trapped and burned to death, when a coffee was put down carefully on the desk next to him. He looked up. It was Prentiss, bravely making the first move, with JJ watching anxiously from her own desk.

He picked up the coffee and moved it onto the next desk over from his, and then went back to ignoring her.

Prentiss didn't take the hint.

"We didn't mean for you to see the video." She began quietly. "That's why we waited until after hours to play it. And we had no idea what was on it…the unsubs profiled as thrill-seeking co-dependent psychopaths who used torture and violence to get off. We never even considered…I mean sexual sadists hardly ever use…sexual violence…to get off, because they're impotent. That's why they're driven to torture. And forcing the victims to enact sexual violence on each other to act as surrogates for themselves is a more psychologically elaborate and difficult to set up MO than they should have been capable of devising and pulling off at their IQ levels." She spoke hushed and quickly so they couldn't be overheard, but mentioning it in a room full of people still filled him with anxiety and rage. "If you'd told us what happened then of course we never would've…"

He stood up, scraping his chair on the floor. As an excuse to leave the room he picked up a stack of folders for closed cases which needed to be taken to the archives and filed, then turned and stalked out of the room, not letting her finish.

"I didn't mean that to sound like I was blaming you!" Prentiss said, hurrying after him out into the empty corridor. "Of course I understand why you wanted to keep it a secret! I'd have felt the same way in your place!"

Morgan still didn't reply. He headed for the men's room as a quick escape but Prentiss overtook him and blocked his path. He turned back and saw that JJ had followed them out, and Garcia had poked her head out of her office, having heard Prentiss's voice. He stopped and gave up on his avoidance plan, since they were quite clearly determined to trap him.

Prentiss continued. "Look…just…don't blame Garcia okay? She didn't want to do it. I talked her into it by saying it was to help Reid. And JJ too, she genuinely just wanted to understand what had happened to Reid so she'd know how to make it better for him, that's all. I was doing it because I hate things being kept from me. In my old job there were so many things kept a secret, that's why I left. I thought maybe something had happened on that case which you weren't allowed to talk about. You have to admit, the way we were suddenly taken off the case was pretty suspicious! I was thinking government involvement, official secrets act. I couldn't think of any other reason you couldn't tell us, your family. I'm so sorry. It was all my fault. I just…can't seem to let myself trust anybody." Prentiss confessed.

Morgan looked at her again. Then at JJ and Garcia. Garcia visibly cringed under his gaze. He couldn't look at her for long, knowing she'd seen him do that.

"Do you really think I give a damn why you did this?" he said venomously, fighting to keep his voice at office-conversation level. "What difference does it make to me, to Reid, whether or not you were trying to help him?"

She looked at the floor. "None. I just…thought you should know."

"You know what?" Morgan laughed. "I'm actually glad Reid left. At least it means he won't have to sit through all your lame-ass excuses, and pathetic reasons he shouldn't despise you for ruining his life."

Prentiss nodded, still with her eyes on the floor, looking like she was trying not to cry.

"I'm really sorry Derek." She said quietly.

He laughed hollowly. "That's real nice Prentiss, but 'sorry' won't change the fact that I raped my best friend. " He said coldly. They flinched. "It won't change the fact that you watched."

He laughed again. "Just out of curiosity, when were you going to stop the video? When they took our clothes off? Did you get the message then? Or maybe you thought there was a chance we were just going to play a little game of naked Musical Statues? Better to wait, just to make sure huh?"

Prentiss looked devastated and shook her head. JJ was crying by this point.

He couldn't bring himself to look at Garcia again.

"Let's see…" he continued harshly. "When we came in you were at the part where we were kissing right? If we hadn't come in right then would you have stopped it there?" he leaned in and grinned predatorily. "Or did the sight of two guys being forced to have sex turn you on a little bit?"

They both opened their mouths to protest. He jumped in before they could find the words.

"No c'mon seriously! Did we make you just a tiny bit wet? I'm sure it must have at least crossed your mind once or twice whether Little Derek matches up to his reputation? So maybe you woulda kept on being horrified juuust long enough to see whether the good doctor is actually human down there, or whether he's an android sent from the future." He said mockingly, then lowered his voice accusingly. "And once you'd all gotten that far, well you might as well see me fuck him right?"

"No!" Prentiss cried out, looking horrified.

"Are you crazy!?" JJ whispered.

"Oh I'm sorry ladies, am I making you uncomfortable?" Morgan said in mocking apology. "Doesn't feel good does it? People talking about the most personal and private things about you, like they don't belong to you anymore, like you don't deserve even basic human dignity or respect."

He took a step closer to Prentiss. "Now imagine that everybody you work with had actually watched you in your most vulnerable state, being forced to live out your worst nightmare. Imagine that from now on every time they talk to you, you know they're thinking about what you did, they're wondering how it felt, wondering how the hell you screwed up enough to get yourself into that position in the first place."

"We're not! We don't think that at all!" Prentiss cried indignantly .

Morgan continued regardless, getting right up close to her.

"Or maybe deep down, they're even just a little bit satisfied on behalf of all the women like them who can't get a member of the opposite sex to look at them twice, or on behalf of all women who a man like me slept with and then dumped the next morning. Because obviously stuff like this only happens to sluts and players." He wasn't laughing anymore, even sarcastically. "They're being all sympathetic to you but inside they're thinking…people like that, like you, who let a different person into their bed every night of the week, who give everyone and anyone the use of their bodies for casual sex, well they really shouldn't make such a fuss just because somebody finally took what they wanted without signing on the dotted line first, right? They had it coming really. Maybe it'll finally teach them to keep it in their pants." The hatred died from his voice, leaving only raw misery and exhaustion.

There were a few seconds of stunned silence.

Then Prentiss put a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't look at her.

"I swear to God Derek…" she said, shaking her head. "If I ever had the thought that somebody like you of all people deserved to be sexually assaulted, I would kill myself."

"You can think whatever the fuck you want. Just stay out of my way from now on." He said tiredly, gaze fixed on the floor. He turned around and walked away just in time to see Garcia's door swing shut, hear her crying inside, probably with her back to the door.

For about ten seconds there he'd felt satisfied by the shock, the hurt on their faces, knowing he'd done that to them. It felt like standing up for Reid, standing up for himself, punishing them and getting justice for what they'd put him through.

And then the illusion wore off, and he was just a miserable asshole with a hangover and a grudge he couldn't shake off.

I could really use a drink right now. He thought.

...

I hope you guys are satisfied now Morgan's given them a good telling off! Many of you seemed to want that (: some of you sounded absolutely furious with them! I suppose that means I must be doing my job right!

As for me I am currently more infuriated with the word 'sofa.' Allow me to explain:

I try my best to use the american words for things but for some reason, I cannot do 'couch.' No matter how hard I try to remember, whenever I look back through a chapter there are like 5 places where I used 'sofa' instead ): I had to edit the last chapter after I put it up. AHHHH. So embarrassing!

*cries* Once again I have no time for reviews but I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway xxx