Voice
By: M14Mouse
Summary: Morgan could have easily continue walking and not turn around. He didn't need to walk back out and talk to those reporters. But he did. It was about time that he speaks out for them. Tag to Restoration
Disclaimer: Don't own them. The quote belonged to Terry Goodkind as well.
-You have the power to decide how you will live your life. These mean little men up here are but cockroaches if you say they are. The have no power to control you but that which you grant them.-Richard, Faith of the Fallen
Derek Morgan didn't need to go back out there.
He could continue walking and never look back. He didn't need to answer any of their questions or half facts that they put together. He didn't need to do anything. He could keep walking and do his job.
He was always doing his job.
This case wasn't just his job.
It was his life laid bare to the world. It made him feel so tired. It was a tiredness that seemed to settle into his bones. It made him feel wary of the world. He was tired of walking away and remaining quiet. He was tired of countless lies and half truths that he has told over the years to cover the acts of one man. He was tired of how much it still effect him.
It was a wound no matter how much he cleaned out. It would fester and bleed once again. He hated it. He hated the man for it and himself for letting it continue. It was the guilt of not speaking or doing anything. It was easier just to lie. It was easy to lie to his family and friends. Tell them that he was stronger than this and it didn't define him. He couldn't lie to himself. In reality, he had nightmares, flashbacks, moments of emptiness inside and burst of angry.
His wounds didn't heal.
He just pretended that they did.
He stared before a man that could have been him. It was a possible, a mirror, and a moment. He could have been there.
But he didn't.
He chose a different path.
Anyone of Carl Buford's victims could have ended up here or worse, they could have taken their own lives to end the pain, guilt, the anger and suffering by this one man.
No more.
He felt his body stiffened as he stared over the busy police station. He watched the people move about. Busy with their lives and their cases. His eyes glanced over to his friends. They didn't say anything. They didn't need too. He turned on his heels and walked back outside. He was greeted by a sea of reporters. They were shouting and wanting answers. He would give them answers but not the ones they wanted. He stared at them for a moment. These eager souls wanted a story. He would give them one.
So, he spoke.
He spoke of himself but he knew that it was for the others. He spoke for the lost, the forsaken, the confused, the angry, the misplaced guilty and the sad. He spoke to them. He told that they are not alone. They will not be alone. Not anymore.
All of Carl Buford's crimes have been shown to the world. He knew that there was a chance that the man was watching. He could almost feel the man's eyes on him. Quickly, he pushed that thought aside. No, this was no longer about it.
For too long, it was always about Carl Buford.
Now, it was for him and countless others. It is about them.
In that moment, he found his voice and he was free.
A/N: Read and Review if you wish.