AN: Okay, I have to be honest...As I watched the show last night, I thought something was missing...I think that maybe this was it...Just my opinion...

Strong Enough by Kricket Williams

Penelope was quaking in her little black boots, tears were running down her face, and a cold sweat was running down her back. She stood there, her head aching, her heart racing so quickly, she was sure it was about to burst out of her chest. Oh, how she hated this!

But this wasn't about her. This was about her friend.

All day, Penelope had told herself that she needed to be strong, to help Monica. A dirty guilt climbed in her gut. Deep down, she felt responsible. As facilitator of her support group, she felt that she should've somehow known that Bill—the crazy UnSub that held Monica hostage—wasn't the grieving widower he'd portrayed himself to be. He had a criminal background! She should've researched. She should've done something.

She was going to do something now.

She'd snapped at Derek. Doing the thing Morgan did best—protecting her from harm—he had tried to stop her from entering the field, but she'd told him no. She needed to do this; she wouldn't let Monica down again. Putting her own fears aside, she knew more than anything, she needed to be there.

She had to do this. Monica was already a victim; she didn't need to be exploited again.

Talking to Bill, playing sympathetic to his plight like JJ had instructed her, she tried desperately to gain his trust...and she did. When she had to step into the house—why did madmen always own average suburban houses?—facing Bill unarmed, she had a surprising reaction.

Empowerment. Strength. Courage...all to protect her friend.

She still hated this, but she was in control. Bill was not going to hurt her. She was not going to let Monica be hurt. She was going to diffuse this situation.

She was in control.

She stood up strong and used her training, negotiating and pleading with Bill, while holding back the bile and anger brewing in her stomach for the man. It felt like hours, not minutes, before she saw Morgan and Reid, her heroes. Derek had stepped in front of her, protecting her, but the real strength came from Penelope herself.

When Bill dropped the gun, she heaved an internal sigh of relief but kept her cool and her strength.

When Monica picked it back up again and fired, that cool melted and turned into pain and anguish.

The usual end of investigation started happening. Monica was being brought to the hospital, photographs were being taken, evidence was being collected, and Bill's body was being bagged for removal from the house.

The entire time, she stood there, immobile, tears coursing down her cheeks.

A large, warm, familiar hand clasped her shoulder and squeezed slightly, helping to melt the ice. "C'mon, Baby Girl..."

"I-I-I can't," she whispered honestly. It was like she was was frozen in time, her feet nailed to the floorboards of the deceptively normal house. Flashbacks of everything that happened rolled through her. God...he could've...she might've...it almost...Oh, God...

He stood in front of her and clasped both of her shoulders in his always strong hands. "Yes, Penelope, you can. You're stronger than that. Look at what you did today. Don't let afterthoughts of what could've happened take that from you. You're stronger than that."

As she met his warm dark eyes, she could feel that rising of inner strength and courage she'd had in her before. He was right. She had done it. She'd never volunteer to kick down doors and tackle UnSubs, but she'd done it, despite any fears.

She'd done it.

"Okay," she said, her voice much stronger.

He smiled at her. "I'm proud of you, Baby Girl."

She rolled her eyes, but inwardly, she flushed with pleausre. "I'm a big girl, Derek...I'm strong enough. I don't need your support and approval."

Looping his arm around her shoulders, he said, "Too bad...you have both."

And as she leaned into his side, soaking up his love and empathy, she knew she was glad for that.