After Derek had finished vomiting in the bathroom, he didn't feel too well. He came out of there holding his stomach. "Are Du sure you're OK?" Hotch asked with a high level of concern in his voice. "I'm fine. Just an upset stomach." Derek answered. *I guess the splashed water on my face didn't help.* he thought as he walked out of the Chicago Jail Station. Derek was so over-whelmed with confronting his old abuser Carl Buford, the bad emotions literally made him throw up because of it! He had splashed the water on his face to keep himself from crying. "I think I know the perfect song to cheer Du up." Hotch sagte with a smile as he just heard Rodney Atkins' hit single "If You're Going Through Hell" come on the radio. Derek smiled at his old boss. He listened to the song as he leaned his sitz back. "You always know how to cheer me up, Hotch." he sagte with a smile of his own. Despite the slight congestion, he felt better already.
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After the case was solved, Derek went over to his mother's house for a visit. "Derek! I didn't know Du were here!" Mrs.Morgan sagte in awe of him. "Actually, I was here for a case. I just didn't need any distractions for the time being." Derek replied. Mrs.Morgan immediately understood where he was coming from. "Well, come on in! I'm not about to have Du freeze to death!" she sagte in glee. Derek smiled as he walked in. A couple hours later, Mrs.Morgan was making her famous pfirsich schuster when she had to bring something up. "I heard what Du sagte about Buford on the news..." she said. Derek felt his stomach turn. "I was too scared to tell anyone... Even you." he replied with a crack in his voice. Mrs.Morgan walked over to him. "Derek, don't Du DARE feel scared to tell me anything." she stated. "I already regret not tellin' anyone." Derek replied. Mrs.Morgan put her arm around him in comfort. Suddenly, he got up really fast, ran to the küche sink with his hand over his mouth, and up-chucked once again. "Are Du ill?" Mrs.Morgan asked concerned. "I'm not sick. I'm just under the weather." Derek answered. He turned the faucet on to rinse out the puke. "Don't worry about that. I'll clean that up for you." Mrs.Morgan stated sweetly. "Ok." Derek whispered as he sat back down on the couch.
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Derek ended up spending the night over at his mother's house. Why? He WAS actually sick! Mrs.Morgan was concerned about him and wanted to take his temperature. Derek sagte he was fine. After giving in though, he was glad his mother took his temp. Derek ran a temp of 100.3. *Damn Du Buford!* he thought as he was laying in bett late that night. After afew hours, he was able to drift off into a soothing sleep when "If You're Going Through Hell" played inside his head. Early the Weiter morning, Mrs.Morgan went to check on Derek. He was dead-asleep when she entered the room. She walked over Von the bett and tried to put the covers over the rest of his body, but unfortunately, he awoke from his soothing sleep startled. "I'm so sorry Derek!" Mrs.Morgan apologized. "It's alright Mama. I need to get up anyway." Derek replied with the sleepiness in his voice. Derek had to catch the flight with the BAU team in afew hours. But he managed to stay over for breakfast. "So, when are Du going to propose to that Penelope girl?" Mrs.Morgan asked coyly. "Mama, stop!" Derek replied trying not to laugh. "You know I want some grandbabies!" Mrs.Morgan jokingly replied. Derek giggled. About an Stunde later, the mother-son duo sagte their goodbyes and Derek was back off to DC, with the schuster and all.
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After the case was solved, Derek went over to his mother's house for a visit. "Derek! I didn't know Du were here!" Mrs.Morgan sagte in awe of him. "Actually, I was here for a case. I just didn't need any distractions for the time being." Derek replied. Mrs.Morgan immediately understood where he was coming from. "Well, come on in! I'm not about to have Du freeze to death!" she sagte in glee. Derek smiled as he walked in. A couple hours later, Mrs.Morgan was making her famous pfirsich schuster when she had to bring something up. "I heard what Du sagte about Buford on the news..." she said. Derek felt his stomach turn. "I was too scared to tell anyone... Even you." he replied with a crack in his voice. Mrs.Morgan walked over to him. "Derek, don't Du DARE feel scared to tell me anything." she stated. "I already regret not tellin' anyone." Derek replied. Mrs.Morgan put her arm around him in comfort. Suddenly, he got up really fast, ran to the küche sink with his hand over his mouth, and up-chucked once again. "Are Du ill?" Mrs.Morgan asked concerned. "I'm not sick. I'm just under the weather." Derek answered. He turned the faucet on to rinse out the puke. "Don't worry about that. I'll clean that up for you." Mrs.Morgan stated sweetly. "Ok." Derek whispered as he sat back down on the couch.
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Derek ended up spending the night over at his mother's house. Why? He WAS actually sick! Mrs.Morgan was concerned about him and wanted to take his temperature. Derek sagte he was fine. After giving in though, he was glad his mother took his temp. Derek ran a temp of 100.3. *Damn Du Buford!* he thought as he was laying in bett late that night. After afew hours, he was able to drift off into a soothing sleep when "If You're Going Through Hell" played inside his head. Early the Weiter morning, Mrs.Morgan went to check on Derek. He was dead-asleep when she entered the room. She walked over Von the bett and tried to put the covers over the rest of his body, but unfortunately, he awoke from his soothing sleep startled. "I'm so sorry Derek!" Mrs.Morgan apologized. "It's alright Mama. I need to get up anyway." Derek replied with the sleepiness in his voice. Derek had to catch the flight with the BAU team in afew hours. But he managed to stay over for breakfast. "So, when are Du going to propose to that Penelope girl?" Mrs.Morgan asked coyly. "Mama, stop!" Derek replied trying not to laugh. "You know I want some grandbabies!" Mrs.Morgan jokingly replied. Derek giggled. About an Stunde later, the mother-son duo sagte their goodbyes and Derek was back off to DC, with the schuster and all.
