"Death lies on her like an untimely frost upon the sweetest flower of all the field."
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet.
.
"Derek, this is stupid."
"Why?"
"Because."
"C'mon, admit that you like it."
"You're turning into some soft, romantic, 'I'll marry you' guy."
"Haven't heard you complain before."
"I like my men rough, smoking hot and sweaty, if you catch my drift."
Derek Morgan tilted his head back when he laughed out loud, revealing his perfect white teeth. With a soft thud, he closed to the door of the SUV he just sat in.
"I do."
"Besides, I am complaining right now, aren't I?"
The handsome, charismatic agent looked at his colleague with a somewhat happy and peaceful expression on his gentle face. Abby Scott returned his look with a less than amused but nonetheless sparkle in her eyes.
For a moment, life for Derek Morgan froze.
It was late at night in Chicago city, the streets still echoing with the noises of the day, but mostly abandoned and deserted, mixed sounds coming from houses making a beautiful portrait of sound. The stars were bright and shimmering in the dark, cloudless sky. A cold breeze came from the shore, taking with it the faint scent of the salty sea, meeting with the smoky, colourful smell of the city as two fronts.
From the city itself, came a vibrant glow of light produced by the headlights, streetlights and the light from the tallest and smallest buildings. Derek stood still for a moment, just watching the yellow city lights with the sound of waves softly crashing against the shoreline filling his ears.
He felt extremely satisfied. They just closed a case, involving the death of three eight year old boys that were sexually abused. They had caught the unsub shortly after he had abducted a fourth, but before he had done any damage to the boy, much to everyone's relief. Abby had been quite forthcoming and butted heads less and less with the team.
Everything together, Derek Morgan thought this was a beautiful, early morning. The pretty brunette had agreed to go with him on a 'little adventure', on the condition that she drove, and they drove around town for some sightseeing. He had showed her where he grew up, where he used to play ball, which store's window he once broke, where he had first kissed a girl, much to Abby's amusement.
His gaze turned to meet Abby's perfectly shaped face and he noticed she threw him her famous smirk, almost smiling wickedly. Her eyes were a lot different than when they were at work, or with their colleagues around for that matter. They were more open, visible, almost touchable joy within those grey-green eyes, radiant and piercing. A small lock of hair strayed from behind her ear and weaved in front of her face. She looked away as she pushed the stray of hair behind her ear again. Only for a second, Derek mentally prayed and thanked God.
The car came out of nowhere. It was like the speeding bullet that left the mouth of a gun, smoke parting to make way for the unstoppable projectile. He didn't even have time to react. He was too focused on her, with her seductive smile, bright eyes and waving hair to notice the sudden absence of the light and peaceful atmosphere around them. And once he finally did see, she followed his frown, deep wrinkles on his forehead, turned and a gushy, quick wind blew past the back of her neck. Immediately, she realised. She was too late. Danger stood before her like a fierce lion. It showed its teeth, growled and roared before spreading his mouth open to attack.
Three simple moments of a loud sound that penetrated his ears, echoes wavering through the night, was all that was needed to put the mighty Abby Scott to her knees and make Morgan's world suddenly filled with fear and concern. These simple moments that lasted no longer than four blank seconds.
Four seconds to change the world. Two fronts met, hot and cold, and collided, creating a threatening thunderstorm.
.
Instead of freezing, Derek immediately moved into action. He didn't know how fast to get to the other side of the car, but only to be greeted by a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life. She laid on the cold, wet pavement, staring up at the sky. Blood formed undeniable stains on her clothes, small white clouds of air disappeared too quickly in front of her already drained lips.
He sank to his knees next to her, repeatedly calling out her name. His hand found one of the bleeding holes in her body, his eyes found her radiant ones and his heart found terror, anxiety and panic, while his head just was blank. Quickly, he reached to his belt and grabbed his cell phone. He dialed the three-numbered receiver and pressed the device against his ear.
"This is F.B.I. Agent Morgan, I need a bus on a rush to Eastern Solidarity Drive, just passed the Shedd Aquarium, officer down. I repeat, officer down!"
Derek didn't bother to wait for a reply, perhaps he should have, but he just closed his phone and focused back on the bleeding woman underneath his hands. He counted two sources of blood on her chest, one near her heart and the other more in the middle, just below her breast. The other wound he couldn't miss, bright and red blood poured out of a large gash in her neck and he quickly pressed his hand against it. Whilest he took of his jacket as quickly as he could, he spotted another bloodstain on her left upper leg.
"I told you this was stupid."
Abby tried to laugh over her own joke, instead she coughed and some blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. Carefully and gently, Derek placed his jacket folded under her head and stroked some hair from her face. It was then that he noticed how bloody his hands already were and how quickly Abby's shirt was drenched in her own blood.
He hushed her kindly.
"Ssh, save your breath sweetheart."
He knew, in the back of his head, that she was bleeding to fast already. Soon, there would be nothing more to seep, pour, flow, be pushed out of her body. Automatically, he looked around for anybody to help them. She was practically laying his arms, bleeding to death, choking on her own blood, unable to move. As he stared into her catching, penetrating eyes, he realised, he was just as helpless as she was.
The blood on his shirt, on his arms, distinct itself from his dark skin. He tried to keep pressure on the wound in her neck and the one near her heart, but just as Abby, he was starting to give up. He was getting tired, he fought exhaustion yet adrenaline still rushed through his body. He started to wonder if anybody would come to their aid. Seven minutes had passed. To Derek, it seemed like eternity.
"Did you know-"
Abby had trouble speaking, she was gasping for air, her eyes stared absent-mindedly into the distance. He tried to hush her again, but she lifted her hand to touch his beauteous face.
"Fifty percent of all drive by's occur in California, of which eighty-four percent is injured and twenty-eight percent result in death, while Illinois only holds four percent of all drive by's, forty-five percent ends up dead and hundred-twenty percent injured."
"No is not the time to talk statistics baby girl."
"Only twenty-seven percent occurs between midnight and seven AM."
"Guess we belong to that twenty-seven percent."
He could tell she wanted to say more, but didn't have the energy to have her brains process the words, open her mouth, reserve her breath to form those words in her throat and let them come out of her mouth fully formed and audible. However, she did smile weakly at him and he looked down at her, wondering how on earth she could smile while blood was coming out of four holes in her body.
It broke his heart whenever he looked down and laid his eyes on the image that was once Abby 'Frankie' Scott. Her skin was even paler and whiter than usually, her hair messy like thousands of threads around her head, her once so beautiful pink lips now blue and dried. He could hear her breath, irregular and heavy, often rasping and hoarse. If he hadn't been pressing against the wound on her chest, he would have cupped her cheek and simply looked at her. Despite the blood on her face and the abhorrent state she was in, Derek still thought she held an unnatural sense of beauty.
Through the wound in her neck, Derek could feel her fainting pulse. Her eyelids were heavy and he could tell she had trouble staying awake. But she needed to stay awake, she needed to keep on fighting. So he did the only thing he could think of and continued talking to her, about the most silliest things.
.
She was fading quickly, dying underneath his fingers and there was nothing he could do. He could only watch, watch his friend, colleague and partner, die slowly, and wait, wait for help that would never come.
Silently, he cursed under his breath. Where were they? Where was the help he had called for? Another five minutes had passed since Abby finally stopped paying attention to whatever he was saying. Often, she wouldn't even look at him, just staring ahead of herself, up at the black sky and radiant stars.
"You hang in there Abby, you hear me? You hang in there."
.
The absence of her pulse roared like an earthquake through his already tense body and his own heart almost stopped itself. He moved quickly, bending forward, smelling the light scent of blood and death settling in, missing the sound of her troubled breathing. He placed his lips on hers, like he had done before, tasting the irony and metallic taste of her blood on the tip of his tongue.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths. Four breaths. Five breaths.
One push. Two push. Three push. Four push.
.
He lost track of how many times he breathed into her mouth, how many times he pushed down on her chest, desperately trying to bring life back into her alluring and attractive, but now broken body.
And all this time, he could only think about the times they were together, secretly kissing and touching forbidden places, sharing their mutual lust for each other. He could only think about the stolen glances at work, which she usually returned coolly and coldly. He could only think about the time she would touch him, her nails scratching over his back, her hot breath against his skin.
Minutes passed by, and slowly the world turned silent. He didn't hear the ambulance finally arriving, nor the paramedics that called out to him once they were finally at their side. He didn't hear the screeching sound and smelled the scent of burnt rubber, nor Aaron Hotchner calling out to him, trying to pull him away from Abby's motionless body to give the paramedics some space.
All Derek could hear, was the frantic speeding heartbeat against his chest that was no longer there, and the rapid breaths in his ear that no longer existed. The silence filled his ears like an ongoing highpitched peep. For a second, he wondered how silence could make so much noise. But his head was cleared from all thoughts once he saw Abby Scott's eyes, wide open and staring up at the sky. He thought she blinked and tried to get back at her side. He thought he saw her chest go up and down again, and he fought against Hotch's grip. He thought he saw her smile, laughing at him for being such a fool and actually care.
But once he blinked himself, she was back on the cold, emotionless ground, laying in her own blood, blood that was no longer flushing out of her body, clouds of her breaths no longer before her face and she didn't smile at him. Instead, empty, hollow grey-green eyes stared at things nobody else could see.
The paramedics had to assist Hotch to get Derek a few feet away from her, not for her sake, but his own. He was oozed and soaked in her blood and still he fought to be at her side. But he made no sound, not even a whimper of sadness, no soft cries of a broken heart.
.
They had covered her body up with a white blanket as the sun had begun to rise. It was the reason why they were even there in the first place, to watch the sun rise. It seemed like such a silly thing right now. He sat only five feet away from her lifeless body and though a white blanket was dressed over her, Derek could still see her, he could still tell where the blood had came out, he could still describe her eyes. It was burnt on his mind, on his eyes. This, this was something that would never fade away.
The rain would erase the blood. The stains would slowly fade. Nature would clean up the scene and the team of forensics that walked around would take care of the rest. The shell casings would be picked up and bagged for the lab. The car would be taken away, ready to be processed. The sun would eventually set again, and rise at the same spot day after day. But Derek would be able to describe the scene until he died.
She had always been 'just a friend'. What he felt for her, he finally realised, did not fit in the 'just friend' category. And he had been lying, just to cover it up. To cover up his feelings, how they acted whenever being in the same room, when the air was frantically vibrating just because of their presence.
He could still feel the warmth of her blood on his skin, despite the fact that the blood had dried up and a bleak wind made the shivers run down his spine. Her chokes filled his ears and would wake him up when he had finally managed to fall asleep. The vision of her face, her eyes, would haunt him day and night, for the rest of his life.
.
"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow. That I shall say good night till it be morrow."
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet.