"Derek!"

I blinked a couple of times finding my path blocked by Penelope Garcia, confused as to why she was yelling my name.

"You cannot go inside like that!"

"What?" I asked, still not comprehending.

Penelope Sighed. "Sweetie, you need to wash off, she can't see you like that."

Today had been the worst and longest day of my life. My brain was clearly struggling to process.

"This is going to be traumatic enough for her."

I looked down at my clothes. It dawned on me why she was prohibiting me from entering even though she knew the only thing I wanted right now was to scoop up my little daughter in my arms.

The clothes I had left for work in this morning were now tattered and covered in blood.

I picked up my hands to place them into my view and realized for the first time that they were tainted a rusty color from the blood that had apparently dried hours ago. I hadn't realized that was there, nor had I realized that my right hand was still clinging tightly to the white plastic bag reading "PATIENT BELONGINGS."

I knelt on the concrete of the pool deck I'd installed last year. I tenderly placed the white plastic bag on the ground but did not look at the contents. I didn't need to. I knew exactly what it contained.

I had left this morning with my beautiful wife. My best friend. She'd been her bubbly self, and had sweetly kissed our daughter's hair on her way out the door.

There had been no indication that today would be any different than every other day.

Yet tonight, I returned with her bloodied badge and her wedding rings and her blood. So much of her blood.

I stood back up and looked at my hands once again. The dried blood was covering my arms down to my elbows. I turned my hands over a few times, disturbingly mesmerized. They looked like my hands, but they felt like someone else's.

"Derek…" Penelope started, the fear evident in her voice.

"You're right." I told her, but avoided eye contact. I couldn't take her pitying look right now. It would break me. "I can't go in there."

My daughter couldn't see me like this. I would only make this worse for her if I walked in, covered in her mother's blood.

"So let's get you cleaned up-" she started, but stopped mid-sentence as I turned on my heels and headed in the oppose direction from here towards the pool behind our house.

"Derek?" I heard her question my sudden action. Then more urgently, "Derek?!"

My pace did not falter until I reached the edge of the water. Where I came to a brief but complete halt.

"What are you doing?!" she called but I barely registered the sound.

I closed my eyes, outstretched my arms.

Somewhere in the distance the sound of heels running quickly on concrete, but they did not penetrate.

I leaned forward.

"Derek!" she futilely called once more.

As I fell, for a brief moment, the world fell completely away. The cool November air caressed my face. The numbness was driven away as quickly as it had come when I hit the icy water. In contrast, my body, which was now submerged, felt as if I were being stabbed a thousand times and all at once.

It was as if the external brought to the surface the emotional pain internally that was trying to internally overtake me.

I sobbed once into the water covering my face but my crying stopped as I was shocked by the once crystal blue water turned crimson.

My mind raced back through the events of the day.

We'd left together, as usual. There had been no indication that this day would be any different.

A case had been waiting for us when we'd arrived. We'd rushed to a local precinct and I had been thankful that the case hadn't taken us far from home.

"Shots Fired!" I'd heard over the radio. The first thing I'd registered was that it had not been her voice. Then next thing I did was pray the next words would not be…

"We have an Agent down!"

No! My mind had screamed.

"Send me a medic! We have an agent down."

Not one of us missed the urgency in the callers' voice.

I'd raced to find my greatest fear occurring. She was lying in a pool of her own blood. Her complexion ashen.

"I'm here!" I'd yelled, trying desperately trying to make my way to her. "Emily, I'm here!"

I watched her eyes try to search for me, unable to focus.

"I love you. I need you." I had told her in the ambulance. I had broken down when she'd remained unresponsive. "Please baby, I need you. Emily, our baby girl needs you." And then I'd continued to repeat these words like a mantra until we'd arrived and I'd been pushed out of the Trauma Room.

I sank to the floor and waited as my greatest fear continued. A never-ending nightmare.

The doctor arrived covered in Emily's blood. He'd said the worst words I could imagine. "Sir, I'm so sorry. We did everything we could."

I suddenly felt myself gasping. The cold November air burning the insides of my lungs. I wondered briefly how I'd come to lay on the deck as I sputtered, like a car struggling to make it up a hill.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Penelope yelled. The anger evident in her voice completed contradicted the gentleness with which she inspected my dripping wet body.

"You- you- told me- to- to- wash." I found my lips and tongue having trouble forming words.

"Oh no!" she protested. "I know you've been through hell today, but you don't get to blame me for you being an idiot."

She continued to scold me as she helped me sit up. "I love you Derek Morgan, but you can be really fucking stupid sometimes."

Confident I could sit on my own, she rose. "You stay there. I'm going to get you a dry towel."

Before I even had time to contemplate sitting alone, she had returned with a warm towel.

I didn't protest as she started peeling off my soaking clothes.

"You know I love that little girl, and I would take her in a heart beat, but I do not want to have to. Do you here me?"

I nodded because it seemed all I could do at the moment.

She had now completely removed all of my wet clothes and replaced them with several towels.

Apparently not satisfied with my answer, Penelope grabbed my chin and forced me to look directly into her eyes.

To my surprise, her eyes did not convey the sternness her scolding did, but conveyed concern, worry, and sadness.

Her voice broke as she asked again, softly this time, "Are you really hearing me?"

I had not meant to nearly give myself hypothermia and almost drown. I just hadn't been thinking. At all. And I agreed. I needed to be more careful. My daughter would still need me.

Though I hadn't thought it possible, I started crying for what felt like the millionth time today. "Pen-" I sobbed. "I don't- I don't know how to do it without her."

She didn't answer with words, because there were none. She enveloped me in a hug, squeezing me tightly.

My other concern found voice, "What am I supposed to tell my baby?"

"You tell her how much you love her. That she isn't going through this alone."

"Will that help?" I asked.

"Derek-" she started. I waited expectantly, "I love you. And you are not going through this alone."

I searched her ever expressive eyes to find the sincerity in them which matched her words. And while I know she too was missing her friend, I knew without a doubt, that Penelope Garcia would always be my lighthouse. No matter how rough the waters, I would always be able to find her beam shining over the harbor.


A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Reviews are really appreciated! :) -C