Emily had gone out that afternoon to meet with an old friend. And that was all that Morgan knew...except for the fact that since she'd come home, she'd been unusually silent. He hadn't been that bothered – being thoughtfully silent was nothing new for her – at least until she tensed up at his touch when he gently rested a hand on her shoulder as she brushed her hair.
"I think maybe I'll stay up a little while longer," she said quietly at his worried look. "I've been meaning to tidy the nursery."
"Baby, it's late," he attempted to convince her to come to bed, knowing she was trying to avoid a conversation, "Let's do it tomorrow, okay? We both had a long week, let's just go to bed. You and the girls need to rest."
"I'm not sleepy," she countered, flashing a faint apologetic smile, "Just go to bed, I'll be fine."
He cupped her cheeks to gaze into her eyes. "Are you sure, baby?"
"Yes," she whispered, leaning into his touch, "I've just got a lot on my mind."
"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked gently, running a thumb over her cheek.
She sighed apologetically. "Not really...I'd rather just forget."
"Alright." He kissed her reassuringly. "Don't stay up too late, okay? Come to bed soon."
It wasn't until several hours later, as he rolled over and blindly groped along her side of the bed, intending to rest his palm on her baby bump, that he realized she wasn't there. Frowning, he padded out of the bedroom to go searching for her; he figured she'd probably just fallen asleep in the rocking chair again, thinking about the girls.
He found her in the living room, curled up on the sofa, wrapped tightly in a blanket. At first glance, he thought that she was sleeping and he gently ran a hand along her back to try and wake her up. "Hey, sleeping beauty," he said softly.
But she hadn't actually been sleeping and the sudden touch startled her, not having heard his approach. She whirled around, raising her gun and levelling it at his chest, finger on the trigger.
"Shit!" she cursed, breathing hard as the adrenalin abated, realizing it was only her husband. "Derek, don't sneak up on me like that! You scared the hell out of me!"
Giving her a look of shock, he demanded, "Emily! Why do you have your gun with you?"
She quickly dropped it on the coffee table like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "It's nothing...I was just feeling a little uneasy after the case."
He gave her a look of suspicion, but before he could question it, his gaze caught on the paper that she had dropped when he'd startled her. "What's that you're reading?" he asked.
Emily snatched the paper out of his line of sight before he could read the headline of the article. "It's just an old newspaper clipping...about a...case."
"You've been acting strangely since you got home," he finally called her out on her behaviour. "What's wrong, baby?"
"It's nothing," she insisted, giving him a desperate pleading look.
He sighed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Come to bed," he urged.
"I can't," she whispered, turning away from him to stare at the floor.
"Why not?" he frowned, cupping her cheeks. "Baby, you've never been like this and it's scaring me. Did I do something wrong?"
"It's not you," she assured, "Can we please not talk about this?"
"Fine, but will you come to bed, please?"
"I'd just keep you awake," she argued, "Go back to bed." Then, for the second time that night, she was startled and made a lunge for her gun as a car backfired outside.
Morgan reached over to grab her hand, stopping her from grabbing the weapon. He pulled her into his arms, gently soothing, "Hey, it's okay, it was just a car." Once again, he noticed the news article, which she had dropped to the floor in her start. Pulling away, he picked it up, slowly scanning the text. "Why are you reading this?"
Her eyes fluttered shut, a tear escaping after a moment. "He's out..." she said so softly it was barely audible, "...escaped."
"Ian Doyle?" he asked, "What has that got to do with you, Em?"
She sighed heavily, reluctant to tell him the whole story, knowing he'd only panic. "I...I helped put him away. And the authorities...they think there may be a possibility that he might...come here," she dragged out the explanation.
"He might come after you?" he asked, his voice quiet with worry, clasping her hands.
"I don't know. Maybe. I doubt he'd come after me in the middle of DC – I mean, he's not stupid."
"Baby, we both know people like him would do anything. Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"
"I..." She shook her head. "I didn't want to," she mumbled, "I just want it to go away." She started sobbing helplessly. "Why is this happening to me?"
He pulled her to him, rubbing her back gently. "We'll get through it together. I won't let anything happen to you."
"No," she insisted, "I don't want you to get involved – you need to stay away, I don't want you in danger too."
"How am I supposed to stay away from my pregnant wife? I can't do that. For better, for worse, remember? We're in this together. I'm not backing away just because I could be in danger."
"I won't let you," she argued sternly. "If something happens to me, you need to be here to raise the girls. They need you."
"I can't do it without you," he insisted, "They need their Mommy too. Baby, trust me. I will protect you and the girls. I won't let any of you be in harm's way."
But she was just as stubborn as he was, if not more. "I don't want you in harm's way either. Anyone connected to me is in danger. It's not up for debate – if you won't keep your distance, I'll put distance between us..."
"What do you mean by that?" he frowned.
She looked him in the eye, affixing him with her most serious look. "I don't want to do this..." she threatened, "But if I have to, I'll go stay somewhere – somewhere you won't find me."
"You know I won't ever stop searching for you," he said seriously, "I won't stop until I find you. If you leave, I'll put a target on my back and turn his attention to me."
"So, what are you saying? Are you trying to threaten me with being stupid and putting yourself in danger if I try to protect you?"
"No, I'm trying to stop you from being stupid!" He immediately felt bad for his words, but it didn't change how he felt about her threat. "Have you even thought about what you said? You're going to leave? What about the girls? I can't let you leave, Emily. For all you know, he could use me as leverage to lure you out. Going away on your own isn't a solution!"
"It'll just be temporary – Interpol is looking for him, they're going to find him and stop him. I'll be home before the girls come."
"No." Morgan shook his head determinedly. "There's no way in hell that I'll ever let you leave on your own. Just trust me, I can keep our family safe. Please..."
She was nearly in tears as she begged, "Derek... Please, let me do this! You're my whole life, I won't put you in my danger."
"No. I can't let you do this. If you want to leave, then we'll leave together. We'll go somewhere no one can find us, but I'm not letting you leave on your own. And don't you dare try to leave without a word while I'm away...I'll find you no matter what it takes. And I mean it when I say I'll put a target on my back just to get you home."
"Please, don't do this... I lose everyone I've ever loved. I can't lose you too!"
"And you think leaving is the best option?" he asked incredulously, "You think I'd want to go on with my life knowing that my wife and children are out there alone somewhere, in danger? I won't even know if you're safe or if he's gotten you... You can't do this to me!"
"It's my choice," she mumbled, staring at the floor, ashamed. "I'll still come to work, I can call you from an untraceable number...it's not like I'm leaving forever..."
"No," he insisted yet again. "I can't let you do this. If you want to do this, I'll go to Russia right now and track him down. I'd rather put myself in danger than for you to leave."
Emily tossed her hands up in aggravation. "Why are you so stubborn? I won't let you do this. This is just my burden to bear and you do enough for me, I won't let you take this on too. Please, just do this for me..."
"Why are you so stubborn?" he retorted, "I'm your husband and you're not a burden. I love you!"
"I love you too! That's why I'm doing this! And if you really love me, you'll let me do this!"
"Fine," he shrugged. "You can leave...and I'll leave too. I'll go to Russia and I'll track him down before he gets here."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're bluffing."
He raised a brow challengingly. "You want to try calling my bluff?"
She returned a glare. "I'm not bluffing. You know that, right?"
"Neither am I, Emily," he said sternly, "The second I find out that you're missing, I'm leaving for Russia. I'd rather die knowing that you're safe rather than to live not knowing where you are."
She crossed her arms over her chest as they stared each other down. "So, what are we going to do? Because I'm obviously not getting through to you..."
He sighed wearily, taking one of her hands and kissing it. "Stay. Let me protect you; I can keep all of us safe. I don't want to be without you for even a day and I know you don't want that either. I love you, Emily, and I want us to stay together, no matter what happens. This is what marriage is about, right? For better, for worse, until death do us part. You remember that, don't you?"
She sighed, shutting her eyes. "Of course, I do. But I promised to protect you...if I stay, will you please just stay out of it?"
"Can I at least put in bullet-proof windows, extra locks, and surveillance cameras around the house?"
She gave him a pointed look. "That's the only way you'll agree to this?"
"It's either that or Russia."
"Then, fine. I agree to your terms – if you agree to pretend you don't know anything about Doyle." With a tired noise, she nuzzled his neck, breathing in his scent. "I love you...even if you're stubborn and overprotective."