a/n: this didn't turn out quite how I wanted it to. Drabble-ish. Tamara's POV.
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds
No Comparison
How can I ever compare? This thought has been going through my mind the whole time Derek Morgan has been helping me through this terrible time. I pale in comparison to her in his eyes. My beauty is not as unique, my passion not as strong, my smile not as welcoming, my heart not as full of love.
All my life I have never had to compete for anything: from attention to love. And yet here I am, fighting and loosing this time. People say that there's a first time for everything, but in this case I really wish there wasn't.
I am frantically clinging on to a man who I know is not all there whenever he is with me.
He has been so fantastic, so caring and gentle, as he did his best to help me through this difficult time. He understands my pain, he knows my grief. And yet I cannot make him smile like she does. I cannot make his eyes shine when he talks about me as he does her. I know that I am never going to be able to but right now, in my state of perpetual grief I just need somebody to hold on to, somebody to keep me grounded.
I know, deep down, that by being here he is here trying to prove something to himself, or to her, or both, but I ignore this thought. When I need someone as much as I do right now I will take whatever he can and is willing to give. Selfishly I keep taking as the days go on: his help, his energy, his time with her. But I know that there is one thing I will never be able to take away: his love.
In his eyes I am someone who needs saving, a damsel in distress so to speak. And a man such as Derek Morgan would never leave a woman in such peril. It's against his nature. He cannot just leave me to flounder. I suppose he needs to feel needed, to feel as if someone needs him for something important because she needs him less right now. I know I really shouldn't jump at this but right now my grief clouds my judgement, my sadness just wants some company through the days, and if he is offering I am most definitely taking.
The next time I call he comes straight away, almost as if he was running from something else and at first my heart soars before I see the now familiar look in his eyes. She is forever on his mind and it surprises me that she has never seen it herself. It's always there, always taunting me, always reminding me that he will never be mine. His love for her is like a punch to the gut every time, no matter that I know it's always going to be there, sometimes I pray that just for a second he won't look at me with those eyes. That maybe just maybe there could be a chance for us to be something other than a hero helping a damsel in distress.
I am feeling particularly vulnerable tonight, particularly lonely. I want to feel something other than pain and loss. And so I ignore the signs of her lingering in his eyes and on his heart and place my lips on his, hoping, praying for some kind of reciprocation, even a spark of electricity.
There's neither.
He pushes softly on my shoulders; pushing my lips from his as he takes a step back. That was definitely not my smartest move. He looks at me sadly. No explanation is needed I say hastily, I shouldn't have done that. I knew that he was not and would never be mine to take, but my crying heart had needed something, unfortunately it was something that he could not give; the one thing that he could not give.
He leaves with a soft smile and a small goodbye and we both know that it is goodbye for good, that we would not see each other again and as I watch him walk out the door I wonder if he ever did prove to himself whatever it was that was important enough for him to accept my offer of drinks in the first place. Either way I am thankful for it, for him; and for her. I have a feeling that she played a crucial part in his coming here and in his caring character. A love that strong she had to influence his character and his choices.
No woman will ever compare, I know that now. That special place in his heart is forever hers.
