My first fanfiction ever. Please review! I know there will probably be typos and grammatical errors, but I'm actually from Sweden so English isn't my native language.
He looked in the mirror. Stared at his mirror image. The tears fell down from his dark eyes and leaved traces on his dark skin.
He was so tired. Of the shame. Of the pain. Of everything. It had been over 20 years but he couldn't forget. He thought he had moved on.
But right now the memories were back and haunting him. If he closed his eyes he could feel Carl Buford touching him, humiliate him, destroying him.
Derek's phone rang, and he took it out of his pocket and saw that it was Spencer who called. More tears streamed down his face and he pressed the answer button.
- Yeah it's me, he said, tried to sound normal.
- Hey, are you okay? Spencer asked, Derek could hear how worried he was.
- I'm fine, just a little fever and so on y'know, he lied.
- We're going to Florida and work on a case, but I guess you're not coming then? Spencer said and his voice was shaking a bit.
- No I guess not man, I'm sorry, You'll have to solve it without me pretty boy, Derek answered and pressed out a broken laughter.
- Call me if you need me, I'm always here for you Derek, take care okay?
He sobbed quietly, and had to take a few deep breaths before answering Spencer.
- Thanks man, come back safe, tell everyone I'm sorry.
Spencer knew, even though Derek didn't say anything, Spencer saw that something was wrong with Derek, he could feel it.
Derek shut his eyes and bit his tongue. He didn't like being this weak, he always was this big tough guy, the guy who always had a herd of women hanging around him at the clubs. The guy who flirted and made everyone else feel good about themselves. Everyone but himself.
The pain in his chest made it hard to breathe. He wasn't sure if he could handle this pain anymore. He didn't let people touch him anymore, because every touch reminded him of Carl Buford and what he did to him.
He thought of how easy it should be, to end this. He had the gun in his drawer in his bedroom. He could just squeeze the trigger. And then it would be over.
He walked towards the bedroom. Trying to make up his mind.
Derek knew he would hurt everybody, his family, the team. They would fall apart. But he couldn't do this anymore, the pain was too overwhelming.
He opened the drawer, took out the cold black gun. It was always loaded. He weighed it in his hand. He felt so split, one part of him just wanted to put the goddamn gun in his mouth and pull the trigger, but the other part screamed that he shouldn't do it, "Think of your mum and Des and Sarah, you promised your dad to take care of them didn't you? And what about the team?"
The little voice in his head was so real that he had to gasp for his breath. Was he going crazy for real?
Would he leave a note? Would it make it easier for them? But Derek wasn't the writer type. He put down the gun and went to get a paper and a pen.
His hands were shaking as he wrote:
"Dear mum, Des, Sarah, Spencer, Jennifer, Aaron, David, Emily and Penelope.
I'm so sorry. I guess I couldn't do it anymore. I tried to hide the pain, the shame, the guilt. When I was 15 I promised myself not to let Carl win but he did. He killed me. The last couple of months I've realized how weak I am, I couldn't fight my demons. I always seemed stronger than I was, The reason I held on for this long is for you guys.. I'm so sorry, please forgive me for putting all of you through this pain, I know I'm selfish. I'm sorry. I love all of you, forever.
Derek"
He placed the letter on the drawer. Folded it. Sealed it. He stopped crying, he didn't feel any pain anymore, just emptiness. He stood up in his bedroom, took one last glance around the room before he put the cold gun barrel in his mouth. His finger slowly pressed the trigger and the gun went off.
Derek Morgan fell to the floor. Dead.
No more pain, no more shame, no more guilt.