"Morgan, are you paying attention?" Hotch said, causing Morgan's head to snap up.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm listening. Sorry." He mumbled, looking at Hotch and squinting slightly.

He'd been tossing and turning all night. There was absolutely no reason for his restlessness, he simply couldn't will his body to shut down and sleep.

Now he was paying for it.

"Okay, so what can we gather from this?" Hotch asked.

Morgan tuned him out, trying to focus on not falling asleep.

JJ and Emily kept looking at him out of the corner of their eyes, it was unlike Morgan to be so out of it. Reid was making no effort to hide the fact that he had been staring at Morgan the entire time they'd been in debriefing, trying to figure out what was going on with him.

"We know that the unsub is smart, he's careful. He probably has a high end job, and judging by the time of the murders, he probably works nine to five." Reid said, still staring at Morgan.

Morgan was too tired to tell him to stop being a creep.

"Wheels up in an hour, go get your stuff." He said, looking at his team. "Morgan. A word?"

Morgan groaned, and stood up, rubbing the back of his head and neck. "Sorry, Hotch."

"It's not like you to zone out during the debriefing, what's going on?"

"I'm just a little tired, sorry, sir."

"Get some coffee. We need you awake and alert."

"You look exhausted." JJ observed when Morgan walked out of the room.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you don't sleep."

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Emily frowned.

"I don't know." He sighed.

"There are a lot of reasons why someone wouldn't be able to sleep at night." Reid interjected. "Are you under stress?"

Morgan shot him a flat look. "Kid. Is that even a question? Our job is stress."

"No, I mean, have you been under more stress than usual lately?"

"No."

"Are you depressed?"

"No."

"Emotionally flat? Hopeless?"

"No, Reid."

"Health problems? Have you been feeling okay?"

"I'm fine." He said flatly. Derek got up and walked into the break room for coffee, as he ran a hand over his face exhaustedly.

Garcia walked into the room, and Derek grinned at her. "Good morning, princess."

She winked at him. "I'll show you a good morning, hot stuff."

He chuckled, pouring himself a cup of coffee, and then took a sip. "Mmm. Coffee?" He asked, gesturing to the coffee pot.

"No thanks, sugar."

"You want sugar?" He asked, staring at her in confusion.

"...No...are you alright? You seem a bit out of it."

"Just a little tired. Hence the coffee." He said, holding it up briefly before taking another sip. "Are you coming with us, baby girl?"

"Yeah, should be an interesting case."

"Why?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. "You were in the debriefing, angelfish, do you not remember anything?"

"...No."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

He winked at her. "I'm just fine, gorgeous."

"Poke him." Reid suggested.

"I'm not going to poke him. Do you really want to disturb a sleeping Morgan?" Garcia said, staring intently at her best friend.

"Well we've got to get to the hotel, so one of you has to wake him up." Hotch said, irritation lacing his voice.

He was starting to get pissed off at Morgan. He'd been late to the debriefing, and had been half asleep and not paying attention the whole time. Hotch was hoping to catch him up on the way to Alaska, but he'd slept the whole ride there. It was a seven hour flight too, he figured he'd have some time.

"Sugar shack, time to wake up." Garcia murmured into Derek's ear. He inhaled sharply, looking around groggily as he rubbed his eyes.

"Hmmm?" He croaked, his voice heavy from sleep.

"We're here, time to go to the hotel."

They got into the cars that were waiting for them: Hotch, Prentiss and Rossi in one, and Reid, JJ, Morgan and Garcia in the other.

Derek spent the entire car ride clenching and unclenching his jaw in time with the throbbing in his head. He was hoping he'd have his own room, because all he wanted to do was sleep his headache away.

Why was his head aching so badly?

He was hoping he wasn't getting sick. Most people got sick multiple times a year, but his immune system seemed to bottle it up and wait for that one little thing to push it over the edge and put him through his own personal hell.

Last year he'd come down with what he thought was just a chest cold, but turned out to be bronchitis, and then morphed into walking pneumonia, and he was sick (and in and out of hospitals) for a solid three to four months.

The year before that, he caught the stomach flu, and was on the couch for almost two weeks straight vomiting. That had been way worse than pneumonia.

The year before that it was the flu, despite having gotten his flu shot. He was delusional with a fever of nearly one hundred and three for almost three weeks.

Once they arrived at the hotel, they all filed out, and met up in the lobby.

"I have your room assignments. Morgan and Garcia are in room two eleven, Reid and Rossi are in room two fifteen, JJ and Prentiss, room two twenty, and I'll be in room two eighteen." Hotch said, handing Rossi, Prentiss, and Morgan key cards.

"It's late, so everyone get some sleep and report to me eight AM tomorrow morning." Hotch instructed them.

"Sweet!" Garcia chirped, looking at Morgan. "Try to keep your hands off me, hot stuff."

He winked at her. "No promises, sexy lady."

They all walked to the elevators; Morgan was about to walk past him when Hotch put a hand on the front of his shoulder. "I expect you to be alert tomorrow. I don't know what's going on with you, but work it out and pull yourself together."

"It won't happen again, I promise."

"Good. Now go get some sleep, you look like you need it."

Morgan dragged himself to where Garcia was waiting, and they stepped onto the elevator. He rubbed his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Hey." Garcia said softly, putting a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

"Just tired." He mumbled, peering at her out of the corner of his eye.

"You slept the entire flight over. Did you not sleep last night, angel?"

"No." He groaned.

"You're looking kind of pale...you'd better not be getting sick on me, agent sexy-pants."

"Agent sexy-pants, huh? That's a new one."

"I can't keep using the same nicknames. Gotta keep you on your toes." She grinned.

He rolled over in bed, squeezing his eyes shut. It was two in the morning, Garcia was fast asleep in the bed next to his. Morgan had woken up around midnight, his head pounding. Judging by the chill that had settled in his bones, he could tell he had a fever, and he felt incredibly run down and achey.

He pressed his face into the pillow.

A few hours passed before their alarms went off.

"Turn it off." He mumbled, hiding his head under the pillow.

"You sound exhausted, . Did you sleep at all?"

"I've been up since midnight."

"Why?"

"Couldn't sleep." He sighed, pulling the pillow off his face to look at her.

"Whoa there, gorgeous. You don't look so hot. I mean, you always look hot, but you don't look like you feel very well. Are you okay?" She said, her words tumbling out as she stumbled over them in an attempt to figure out what was wrong with him.

"I'm fine." He mumbled.

She sat on the edge of his bed, and looked down at him, sighing lightly.

"You're not fine, my vision. Is this why you were so off yesterday, you didn't feel well?"

"I felt fine yesterday, I was just tired." He said, blinking tiredly.

She put a cool hand on his forehead, then his cheek, then put her hands under his jawline, feeling for swollen glands.

"I'll call boss-man."

"I'm fine."

"Uh-huh. Tell that to the fever."

"Baby girl, I'm fine. I can work."

"Mnh-mnh. You, sir, are staying in bed. I'm calling Hotch."

"Garcia." He groaned. "Hotch is already mad at me for yesterday."

"I know he is, angelfish, but he's not going to be mad at you for being sick."

Morgan sat up, looking at her bleary-eyed. "Penelope, I'm fine. You're overreacting. I don't even feel that badly, now go get ready. It's seven thirty, we have to be down in half an hour."

"You're seriously telling me you're fine. Derek, be realistic, you do know what a fever means, right?"

"I'm fine." He snapped. "Now will you just drop it and let me do my job?"

"You stupid, stupid man." She grumbled under her breath. "You need to rest, that sexy body of yours is begging you to."

"You want to take a shower first, or can I?"

She sighed in defeat. "I will, it'll only take me a few minutes."

"Please don't tell anybody I have a fever. I'll be fine, but I don't need everyone to know."

She pursed her lips. "Yeah, okay."