Rossi was exhausted. One should never have to profile a member of the team to get answers and that was exactly what he'd done to Garcia. She'd given him the opening and he went for the jugular, niceties be damned. Morgan hadn't liked that, but then, what had he done that the man liked.

His parting question was supposed to be an olive branch, but came out more like an arrow. Morgan had answered neutrally, but he'd seen the fire in his eyes and knew he'd set the younger man off again.

He was just about to climb the stairs and collapse into bed when his doorbell rang. Whoever was out there was just laying on the button, never letting up. "All right, all right. I'm coming!" he yelled, but still the buzzing continued. He wrenched the door open, his exhaustion turning to quick rage. "What?" he bit out.

"Who are you to question my faith?" Derek Morgan was drunk as a skunk and standing on his doorstep, glaring at him. "My best friend almost died and you ask about my religion. Well, I ain't got none."

"Derek, you're drunk."

"And?"

"You might do something you'll regret come morning."

"It already is morning," he slurred, pushing past Rossi to step into the room. He weaved on his feet and Rossi held out a hand to steady him.

"Let's get you up to the guest room." Rossi guided him up the stairs and into the closest bedroom. Derek sat heavily on the bed, staring straight ahead.

"It's my fault, you know."

"What is?"

"Penelope getting shot. I goaded her into taking that date with Battle. My words and actions told her she wasn't good enough for a guy like him, a guy like me." He slowly turned his head to look at Rossi. "If I truly loved her, I would make her feel loved and beautiful, not, well, not like she's unworthy."

Rossi knew he had to tread lightly in this next moment or else he would alienate the man forever. "You had no idea how much of a sick fuck he was, Derek. And she's alive." He sat next to Derek, keeping a small distance between them.

"But she has a scar now to remind her of my stupidity."

"Not all scars are visible." Rossi sighed. "Sometimes the hidden scars are the ones that always bother us the most." He fingered the charm bracelet in his pocket, thinking of the children once more.

"Tell me something that will save me, Dave." Morgan's tone seemed so bleak, hopeless even, and Rossi found himself at a loss. "I need something that will make this all right."

"How can I tell you something I haven't found myself?" He stood and looked down at Morgan. "Sleep off the hangover. Things will be clearer come morning." He flipped the light off and closed the door, heading to his own room. Of all the people Morgan could have turned to, he chose him. It made no sense and David Rossi was one who loved sense and order. Sighing once more, he stripped down and pulled on a pair of silk pajamas. He only hoped that clarity would come with the dawn.

Rossi woke a few hours later to the sound of his alarm. His eyes were still heavy with exhaustion and he pulled out a suit coat, shirt, and jeans out of his armoire and headed into the master bath, hoping the warm water would wake him up. Once dressed, he went to the guest room to check on Morgan. The man was still sleeping, a pillow clutched tightly to his chest. He sighed and left the room. "We all need to hear something that will save us, Derek," he whispered to the closed door.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed her number. "Good morning, Penelope. How are you feeling today?"

It took her a moment to answer him. "My side aches something awful, Sir. Is Derek with you? He always calls me before we go to bed, well, unless he's on a date, and he didn't last night. I'm worried about him."

"Don't be, he's here."

"Oh, thank God. I thought he'd done something stupid. He's blaming himself for this mess, you know. But if I hadn't been so frakking mulishly stubborn, I wouldn't have gotten hurt. He was right about guys like Battle."

Rossi heard her breath catch and knew she was so desperately close to breaking, to believing the world. It hadn't helped that the other tech, Kevin?, had shown interest in her. That only confirmed what she thought to be truth. "Kitten…"

"Why aren't I beautiful, like JJ or Emily? Why do I have to be like I am?" He heard her begin to cry, soft sobs that tore at his heart.

Running his hand through his hair, he responded. "The external doesn't matter to a real man. When you meet the right man, he'll love you for your beautiful heart and then for your gorgeous face. I promise you, he will."

"Somehow, you always know the words that will save me, Sir. Thank you. And I rather like the nickname. I'll call you later today."

"Of course," he responded, only to realize he was speaking to dead air. Looking up, he saw Morgan watching him, an inscrutable look on his face. "You're up."

"She does the same thing to me when she's done talking. Just hangs up when I get too personal. Even for as close as we are, there are some things she won't discuss with me. Her looks is one of the topics we avoid."

"I had to say something, her heart was breaking."

"So you've encountered the Garcia Effect. I was wondering how long it would take for you to fall under her spell. Though I am surprised she opened up to you. You did destroy her confidence after all." Morgan's eyes pierced into his heart and he found himself looking away. "But we should head in. Strauss has already extended her magnificent benevolence to the max."

Rossi chuckled lowly. "That she has. I was surprised she gave us this much time to deal with the situation. Then again, she despises internal affairs as much as we do, and would do anything to get ahead of them. I'll see you at work." He went into the kitchen, grabbing a bagel from the basket on his way to the garage.

Once at the office, he found he couldn't concentrate. Penelope had refused to look him in the eye, blushing slightly as Morgan led her past him into her office. He didn't even get the chance to speak to her before they'd taken off on the new case. However, the soft sobs and brokenness of her voice haunted him throughout the night. If her walls were strong enough to keep them out, who knew what else hid behind those soft brown eyes?

"Stop it, Rossi. She's young enough to be your daughter," he whispered as he boarded the plane. "If anything, she's Morgan's." Sighing, he took a seat, reviewing the latest case file. It was going to be a long flight.