Tag to 8x18: So, I watched Restoration this morning which was great. Shemar was awesome as usual, but there was obviously one big thing missing in the episode…. Of course Emily. So I had to write a little something to add on to the episode. I know many won't have seen it yet as it hasn't aired in the US, so this may be a little spoilerish ;) It won't be my best work as I've just written it quickly today as the thoughts popped in to my head… so I apologise if it's not that good.

He undid the screws and slowly opened up the wooden frames that covered the tall windows, a stream of dull sunlight brightening up the darkened room. He stared at the scaffolding that adorned the outside of this beautiful old building. He wasn't even half way to fixing this place up, but he was excited for the finished product; He would put his heart and soul… his every last spare minute into restoring this to the magnificence it once was over the following weeks and months….. He needed this focus.

He felt the vibration of his cell against his leg and he closed his eyes, just wanting silence. Just wanting to be left alone. But as always, there was no ignoring a call. There could always be another case.

He half smiled though seeing her face light up his screen, and if he hadn't of had his cell on silent, he would have recognised her special ringtone straight away. For a couple of seconds he was pleased to see her face; Happy that it was her and no one else, but in a flash it disappeared and a nauseous feeling fell upon him. He lifted the cell to his ear slowly and accepted the call;

"Hey." He uttered.

"Hey." She whispered back gently.

He knew…..

"Who called you?" He asked swiftly.

She waited a few beats before answering, trying to figure out how best to answer. She wouldn't lie to him, but…

"It's ok." He interrupted her silent musings, "I'm not mad."

"JJ." She told him, "She called me and told me about Buford."

He felt his breath catch in his throat and his chest constrict. He knew everyone knew he had a history with Buford. He knew they knew something had gone on between them, but never the detail. He guessed they'd figured it out…. They were profilers after all… but not the detail. No one knew that aside from his counsellor, and even then it was only enough to get him through the sessions and out of there as fast as he could.

Emily had met his mother however. She knew about his running with the gang. She'd been to the centre where his nightmares and his future had begun. She knew a lot, had no doubt put the pieces of the puzzle together, but had never asked the detail. No one had. He wasn't sure whether that was for his benefit or that they just didn't want to face it. Didn't want to think of him being the victim. Going through that pain…. Just like he didn't.

He wanted to ask her what she knew now, but before he could speak, as if she read him she continued, "She told me Buford was dead." She said.

Before he knew it, he felt a long breath escape his lips, as if he were relieved, the intense pressure on his chest releasing….. just a little. But he still had to know.

"What else did she tell you?"

"Just that you talked to everyone about what happened. She didn't tell me anything else Derek." She assured, "She knows that's for you to tell."

She listened to the silence, imagining him stood there, frozen, may be in a panic. May be angry. May be lost.

"But that's not why I called Derek." She continued softly, "I didn't call to ask you to tell me what happened."

"You didn't?"

"No." She offered, "I just wanted to hear your voice. I just wanted to know that you were ok."

He forced a smile even though she couldn't see him, hoping it would resonate in his voice, "I'm fine." He uttered.

And she really wanted to believe him, but she knew it was a ridiculous question with what had just happened. She cursed herself inside, angry that may be she had called him for her own benefit; she knew he would tell her that he was ok and that would make her feel better. That's what Derek Morgan did. Looked out for everyone else, putting his demons at the back of the queue. In to the back of his mind. So all she could do was be honest. She owed him that much.

"I'm sorry I'm not there Derek." She almost whispered, the guilt evident in each thick word.

"It's ok. I can't be helped. I appreciate the call though. I will be fine. I promise."

His words sounded empty and rehearsed. She wondered if he had, or expected to have this exact conversation with every person he knew that had seen him on that news broadcast. She wasn't going to tell him she saw it. Not yet. So, she attempted a change of subject;

"Where are all the others?" She asked. "Are you with them?"

"No. I left them eating my mama's peach cobbler."

"Mmmm." She hummed, "That stuff is good." She almost sung.

"I saved a piece." He said, "I'll save it for you. My mama always makes enough for you." He smiled.

She smiled too and let her thoughts wander to every time they shared a piece of pie…. Derek loved pie, but would always offer to share with her, knowing she would never have a full piece to herself. But she was pulled out of her memories as she heard his quiet voice again.

"When are you coming back?" He asked, his words now devoid of the hint of warmness from a second ago.

She stuttered, but before she could answer he qualified his question;

"For a visit I mean." He added.

She grimaced at the end of the line, not having an answer she wanted to give, "I don't know Derek. It's so busy here, I'm not sure when I can get the time off."

"I understand."

"But why don't you….."

"What?"

"Why don't you come here? Come to London. You must be due some vacation."

"I guess." He shrugged.

"Derek, your last vacation…. you worked right through it remember."

He gave a small chuckle, "I did."

"So what d'you think? Ask Hotch."

"You're serious aren't' you?"

"Of course I am. Ask Hotch."

"I will."

"Now."

He laughed, "Sure."

"I mean it Derek. Put down the phone to me now and call him."

"What's the rush?"

"If you don't do it now, another case will come in and three months down line we'll still be talking about it. C'mon, you deserve a break."

Truth was, she truly believed he needed it. The last year and a half had been hard on Derek Morgan and selfishly she wanted to see him to know for sure that he was ok.

"Ok." He conceded, "I'll him now."

"Call me back then when you're done."

"I will." He uttered, smiling inside at her bossiness coming through.

"Speak to you in a bit then." She said, and he could hear an ever so slight twinge of excitement in her tone.

"Yeah… and Emily?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." He whispered.

"You're more than welcome Derek."

~~CM~~

Three days later and he was sat, looking out of the small round plane window as it touched down on the runway. It was dark outside and he'd sat mesmerised by the lights as they had flown over the land for the past thirty minutes.

As he walked out into the arrivals hall, he saw the back of her. She had her cell to her ear and was deep in conversation. She jumped as he tapped her on the shoulder, and realising it was him, she turned, telling whoever was on the other end of the line she had to go. He was sure the person did not get to say goodbye, but that was not his concern as she wrapped her arms around his neck, taking him into a hug. His arms snaked around her waist and she held onto him a little tighter and for a little longer than she had the last time he saw her right here in London. As she squeezed him, he felt something transfer from her to him; it was a warmth. An 'I'm sorry. An 'I'm right here'. An 'It's good to see you', and he closed his eyes taking in every last feel of it.

"Ok." She said pulling away, but letting her hands linger on his arms, "Let's get out of here. I suppose you're exhausted."

He shrugged, "Not really."

She shook her head, rolling her eyes in annoyance with herself, "Oh, I always forget… Washington time."

"Yeah." He smiled, "But if you're tired, you go to bed when we get back. It's fine."

"No." She waved away, "It's Saturday tomorrow, so no work for me."

She linked her arm into his and they began to walk toward the exit.

"I have so much stuff planned for us." She said.

"Really? I thought you were working."

"I managed to move some stuff around and I can do some work from home. You got me entirely to yourself for the next few days providing nothing new comes in, then I am back to work, but I'll keep the hours short."

"You sure that's ok?"

"Hey, I'm the boss aren't I?"

"Of course." He chuckled. "So what's all this stuff you got planned?"

"Well, there's so much to see and do here and I've done none of it."

He cocked a brow, "So that's why you got me here. To be your sightseeing buddy."

"You got it." She said, turning to flash a cheeky smile at him.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow then?"

"Actually, rain is forecast tomorrow, so we're doing nothing but hibernating in the flat, watching movies and eating very very bad food."

"Very bad food? Haven't done that in a while. Not since…. since you were still in DC actually."

"Well I'm glad I can be a bad influence then. I got chips, or crisps as they're called here. Pizza, peanut butter cookies and ice cream.

He stopped, in turn causing her to halt and looked at her, "What flavour ice cream?"

She frowned at him, as if she couldn't understand why he was questioning her, "Rocky road of course. Your favourite."

His face broke out into a smile and a breathy chuckle left his lips and silently, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they made out into the cold night air of London.

~~CM~~

It was eleven o'clock and the rain was beating on the windows, the wind blowing so hard that the rickety old fire escape out side Emily's flat was creaking against the concrete walls. The fire was on and the room was toasty warm. They'd eaten take out as she'd gone to pick him up from the airport straight from work and hadn't been able, or realistically had no desire to cook. She'd shown him to the spare room and he'd thrown his stuff in the corner of the room.

"Well." He said, walking from his bedroom for the next couple of weeks, fresh from a shower, "I think that bed is going to be way more comfortable than this sofa I had to sleep on last time."

She looked up from the magazine she was reading, curled up at one end of the said sofa, and placed it on the floor beside the chair. "Hey, Garcia did say she was willing to share." She winked.

"Garcia's all talk." He smiled, sitting down next to her.

She leaned over to the coffee table and picked up one of two large glasses of red wine, "Here, I got you this."

He accepted the goblet of red liquid and took a sip, letting out a satisfied sigh, "That is just what I needed. This is good stuff."

"Only the best." She smiled.

He took another large sip and placed the glass back down. As he sat up, he saw her staring at him and as he caught her eye, she changed her expression suddenly. She attempted to hide the concerned, but what he perceived as pitiful look with a smile, but it turned into somewhat of a mixture of a grimace and a smirk.

He took a deep breath and pursed his lips, "Ok, let's get this over with."

"What?" She said shaking her head, feigning bewilderment.

"The white elephant in the room. Let's get rid of it. Let's talk about what just happened."

"Honestly Derek, you don't have to….."

"Yes." He interrupted, "Yes I do, or else you won't stop looking at me like that the whole time I'm here."

"Like what?"

"Emily." He almost sighed, giving her the look of an annoyed teacher.

"Ok. Ok." She surrendered, "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you."

"It's ok. I know I'm guilty of doing exactly the same to you in the past."

She smiled lightly, "Ok." She said softly, "Let's talk about it."

She gave him time to find the right words to start with. A story that had so many facets, so may twists and turns was a difficult one to tell.

"So." He began, not looking at her, but down at his hands that were rested in his lap, "You know what he did to me. I know you saw the news and I know you knew stuff from a few years back in Chicago."

"Yeah." She whispered, watching him intently.

"How come you never asked me about it?" He asked, turning to face her.

"It was your story to tell Derek. I wasn't going to try and force you into talking about it… Into doing something you didn't want to. God knows you had enough of that in your life. I figured if you were ever ready, then you would talk about it… Like now."

He gave her a weak, grateful smile, "I guess the truth is I thought I'd buried it and that there was no reason to talk about it anymore. I thought Buford being locked up was the end of it for me. But when I saw him the other day in prison, for a short while in that room with him, he had me…. He had me again."

She watched as he tensed up and his tone was angry…. "I was frozen." He continued, "Under his spell…. For just a couple of seconds…. He still looked at me that way. The way he used to. I mean, I know he likes boys. Young boys, but he still looked at me like…."

He halted. He didn't want to say the words out loud.

"Don't be angry with yourself Derek." She said gently.

He looked to her with a surprised expression, "I'm not." He said.

"You are. You're angry at yourself for letting him to get to you that way." She shook her head, "It is not your fault. Some people can just do that to us. Get under our skin."

He contemplated her words. He knew she was right. He had thought he'd buried it. He had thought it didn't affect him anymore; That he had dealt with it. Put it in a little box and fastened it up a long time ago. But in that room with Buford, just for a few seconds, it felt like being right back in that cabin.

"Do you think it ever goes away?" He asked.

She let her head fall to the side and looked at him with narrowed eyes, "What?"

"Buford's dead right?"

She nodded.

"Does that make it go away?"

She stared at him, her gaze saddening and her body almost slumping. She knew what he wanted to hear. She knew what he wanted her to tell him, and for a split second she considered lying and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. But, it was only for a split second. She could not do that to him. She could not betray him.

She lowered her gaze and took a long breath, shaking her head slightly as she exhaled, "Derek." She whispered, "You know it doesn't go away. They're in here right?" She said, tapping a finger lightly against the side of her head.

"So if that's the case, why did you run away? From us? Why did you run here if it doesn't go away?"

"I….." She hesitated and her eyes widened, taken aback by his question. This wasn't supposed to be about her.

"Sorry." He said briefly touching her wrist, "I didn't mean that to come out that way. I just wondered if it fixed things for you. Did coming here help?"

She nodded, "In a way, yes, but it's different for me."

"But Doyle is dead."

"He is…. and he is still in my head. I'm reminded of him every time I look in the mirror. But that's not what I was running from." She explained, "Every day I was reminded of Doyle in one way or another…. A case, a victim, an unsub, something one of you said, and it reminded me of what I did to you guys. What I put you through. I was a coward Derek. I didn't want to face those feelings."

He laughed, but there was no humour. "Emily, you are least cowardly person I have ever known."

She pressed her lips together in a subdued smile, "May be in front of an unsub. May be in front of the monsters out there, the bad guys…. but in front of you guys…." She shook her head, "The people I love and care about, I was a coward. I couldn't live with the constant reminders of what happened and the pain I caused you all."

"But that wasn't you fault."

"In a way it was. I was adult and I put myself in a situation I knew could go bad. And that decision played out not only in my life, but all of yours….. But you were a child Derek. A young boy who had gone through hell already losing his father…. And then someone came along and took advantage of that. You did absolutely nothing wrong and you made no bad decisions."

"What about Rodney? What about running with those gangbangers?"

"But that had nothing to do with Buford. With what he did to you. Nothing you could have done would have deserved what he did…. and not only that, but you went on to live your life with your head held high. You went on to grow into a great man, not letting anyone else bear the burdens of what happened to you. You sheltered the people who loved you from the truth."

"You tried to do that too."

She smiled, "It didn't quite work out too well in my case though eh?"

"I guess, but you did it for the right reasons."

"May be." She said, offering a thankful smile.

"But you know, you say I'm a good man and I know I do good things, but there is something that bothers me about myself sometimes."

"What's that?" She asked with an inquisitive frown.

"It may sound silly, but I have this reputation as a player right. A ladies man….."

She chuckled, "You don't say."

He smiled back, but it quickly faded, "But I'm not really like that." He said turning to face her.

"I know." She whispered. "I know you're not."

"So why do you think I play up to it?"

She shrugged, "It's a guy thing I guess."

He shook his head, "Truth is, I liked having that reputation. I never tried to play it down because it meant I was normal. People saw me as a normal guy, not a person who was abused. Who was weak. Who did these things as a child with a grown….."

He couldn't finish the sentence.

"You know that's nothing to be ashamed of."

He flashed her grateful a small smile, "Emily, every day we tell victims that they shouldn't be ashamed. It's not their fault… and I mean it. I mean every word of it, but when it comes to me….. I can't help it sometimes. I do feel ashamed sometimes."

"I get that Derek. I really do. I can tell you till I'm blue in the face that it is nothing to be ashamed of, but you have to feel it yourself…. No one can tell you how to feel, but may be now people know, it will go away. When you see that no one changes how they see you." She paused for a beat and then continued, "In fact, that's probably not true."

He looked at her more intently, willing her to explain.

"Derek, as a result of what you have done, people can only look at you as being stronger. Being even more of a man if that's possible for admitting what happened….. And you did that to help others; All the past victims. All the future victims and anyone else out there who has been where you have. What you did…. on that news broadcast…. is one of the bravest things I've seen someone do."

He smiled gratefully, then turned his gaze away.

"But why does it bother you?" She continued, "Having this reputation. I don't understand."

He looked back to her, "It's not the fact I have it, it's the fact that I'm happy for people to think I'm something I'm not. That may be they think I look at women in a certain way."

"That's not how people see you. I promise you." She told him, "But what is important is that the people who know you…. Who love you…. They know who you really are Derek."

"I hope so." He uttered.

"I know who you really are." She stressed.

He leant forward and placed both hands over his mouth, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Look." She said, looking around him to catch his eye and make him look back at her, "No one can erase what Buford did to you, but remember that in spite of that….. In spite of what he did to you, you should be proud of the person you turned into."

He looked at her with sad eyes, seemingly unconvinced, so she continued; "You are a good person Derek. You do good things every day that are one more slap in the face of evil. You fight for people, you care about people and you don't give up on anyone. Those are special qualities."

He smiled, sitting back, "I guess Buford had his uses."

She shuffled around a little to fully face him and placed one hand on his thigh. "No Derek." She said firmly, "Buford had nothing to do with the person you are today. Lots of people go through bad…. horrible… nasty things in their lives and they don't turn out the way you have. Give yourself a break. Who you are is all down to you." She paused and smiled warmly at him, "Don't ever change." She whispered.

He smiled tiredly at her, his eyelids drooping just a little, "Thank you." He said, placing his hand atop hers. He squeezed a little, "Thanks for asking me to come. I think it's just what I need."

"You're welcome."

"Promise me one thing." He said, a playfulness glittering in his eyes.

"Anything." She said with a little shake of the head.

"Promise me we that now we've talked about it, we won't think or talk about this anymore this vacation." He said, an exhaustion to his tone.

She smiled widely, "I promise."

"But there is one more thing before I invoke that promise."

"What?" She smiled.

He took one of her hands in both of his, "You have nothing to feel guilty about when it comes to what happened with Doyle. I promise you that not one of us blames you for any of it. You did your job and you did it so well, as you always do, that he fell in love with you and it hurt him…. what you did with his son. But you were only ever doing what you did for the right reasons."

"Thanks Derek but…."

"No." He interrupted, "I'm serious. No one blames you…. I don't blame you."

"Thank you." She uttered.

"So, whenever you're ready, you get your cute butt those four thousand miles back across the ocean to us." He winked.

She half smiled and half laughed, staring at him with a thoughtful gaze…. And he felt it. He felt the intensity and thought it was time to lighten the mood. He was exhausted from everything… the case, the thinking, the travelling, the rollercoaster of emotions, so, he folded his arms across his chest and smirked at her, "So what bad movies you got for us to watch then?"

"Oi!" She protested, playfully slapping his upper arm, "They are not bad movies. I didn't get any chick flicks."

He raised his brow.

"Or anything with subtitles." She added giving him and unimpressed glare.

He laughed and his eyes truly lit up for the first time since she had seen him that day. He lay his head back against the back of the sofa and then let out a long, contemplative breath.

"What?" She asked.

He swallowed and then his smile grew into a more serious one, "I just really miss you that's all." He uttered. "I miss how you make me feel when I'm around you."

Her thoughtful gaze returned along with a smile. She leant forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek. As she began to pull away, his face turned and their lips were just an inch apart, their stare locked on to one another, "I miss you too." She whispered.

So, what did you think? Sorry that it was rushed.