A pair feet walked along the pavement, evading pieces of pink bubblegum and cigarette stump, stepping around the puddles and constantly moving. Attempting to escape from the whirring thoughts of the mind they carried.
Penelope Garcia was not feeling happy, she felt as if a Dementor had appeared and had started inhaling all her happiness. She could literally feel it seeping from her pores. All the happy memories and the cases successfully solved were melting away, leaving only the hard rock of her most recent failure.
It was her failure, had she not sent them on the wrong path with her investigation into their primary suspect they would have realized it was a trap. It had felt wrong and staged, but she hadn't voiced her thoughts and now there was another tiny little girl lying in the forest of North Dakota.
Her face frozen in a look of terror, her eyes dead. The last thing they had seen was the gruesome face of their murderer as the choking hands on her throat caused her to black out.
Garcia shook her, trying to remove the tears from her eyes. They were blurring her eyesight and her surroundings were going black. Just like the young girl. A sob wrecked through her as she thought about the future the girl would have had.
She would have passed High School with amazing grades and left for the University of Stanford to study law. The girl would have gone on to becoming the best lawyer out there, bringing justice into a ruined society. She would be a hero. Unlike the failure that had the name Penelope Garcia.
She didn't noticed when her hands unlocked the door to her apartment, her body having gone into auto-pilot a while ago. The stuffed animals scattered all around did nothing to change her mood, and she sank down on the sofa to continue sobbing.
Penelope remained there for a while, hunched over the large amount of pillow, letting the tears soak into the brightly colored pillow. Her nose was running and her hand blindly reached for her bag, searching for a pack of tissues. Instead of finding a pack of tissues her hand met to coarse yellow paper of a case file.
Had she taken home the file? Why? Just so she could torture herself some more? She sniffled a bit and wiper her eyes with the sleeve of her other hand. Might as well look at it now, see if she could find any more of her errors and correct them before they happened again.
The folder did not contain the case they had just closed, there were loads of pictures of victims on previous cases. Their personal pictures. People she'd seen the team rescue. With looks of relief on their faces.
She flicked through the images until she read the last page, a large full-page image of the one-and-only Derek Morgan was glued to the back of the file. A large smile gracing his face and a pink post-it note stuck on his forehead. Garcia furrowed her brow as she pulled the note off, had Morgan decided to reprimand her for her mistakes? She gasped as she read the note, there on the tiny square Morgan had jotted down a comfort speech. His messy handwriting squished together trying to fit it all in.
Garcia, Baby Girl.
We're cops, it's our job to save people. We don't always succeed in doing so, but instead of focusing on those we failed to save, we focus on the ones we did save. Because they prove that we can do this job.
You're Chocolate God, Morgan.
She read and re-read the note several times, the tiny watery smile on her lips growing a bit wider every time. Sticking it on the arm rest of her sofa, and pressing it down with her finger feeling the bumps were Morgan pressed the pen too hard she felt appreciated.
I don't know where in the Seasons this ties in, but I felt like writing it.
It might have been influenced by the recent events and feeling helpless watching loved ones get hurt on TV show, and the fact that they're expected to just move on.
That didn't even make sense to me.
If you have some thought, please share them with me through a review. Anonymous is accepted.