A/N: Morgan's POV now. Sorry if any of this seems OOC, but on the show no characters have died yet, so we don't really know how they would react. This chapter is a little different, since the others weren't there, so let me know if it's any good. Thank you criminalxxxmindsxxxfreak, my lone reviewer and to the people who have added this to their Alerts and Favorites. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Do I own Criminal Minds? Let's see, I own a computer, a cell phone, a cat...nope. Not Criminal Minds.
Warning: Spoilers for Extreme Aggressor and Won't Get Fooled Again.
Word Count: 545
Happy reading!
I've wondered, quite a few times, what would have happened if some one else had gone with Reid on the interview that day. I was supposed to be with the rest of my team at that warehouse. I was supposed to be in that building, looking for evidence to convict a murderer. Was I supposed to die too?
After we finished the interview Gideon called me on my cell. He told me they knew who, and where the bomber was, and that they were going to get him. My heart leapt at those words. We finally had him. The man who had been terrorizing Boston for the past four and a half weeks. I am always happy when we are able to put an UnSub behind bars, but I had a particularly bad feeling about this one.
The drive back was quiet. Reid and I were both exhausted, as was the rest of the team, and I had lost count of the last time I slept for more than a couple of hours.
When the two of us got to the police station, I figured everyone would be happy, celebrating even. I expected the rest of my team, all five of them, to be preparing to go home once again. That wasn't the case.
The minute I saw JJ's face, I knew it was bad. She had been crying, and she wasn't even trying to hide it. Reid tried to comfort her, ask what was wrong, but she just shook her head and told us to call Hotch. As if on cue, my phone rang. That conversation is not one I'd like to repeat. Ever.
"Hotch what's going on? Did we get him?"
"We did, but..."
"But what, man? What happened?"
"He blew up the building, Morgan. Crane and Reynolds, they're... they're gone."
"No, they can't..."
"I'm sorry."
I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. Worse. My phone fell to the ground and I ran out of the room, ignoring Reid's confused and worried looks. I honestly don't know how I ended up at the station's shooting range. Thoughts were running though my mind, so fast I almost couldn't process them. They can't be dead, my colleagues, my teammates, my friends, they can't be gone. Crane, she has a family, a husband and a little girl. And Reynolds has a younger brother, only fifteen years old. Who is going to tell them?
I have no clue how long I was there, but by the time I left there were hot tears running down my cheeks and the paper dummy looked like Swiss cheese. I've never been one for displaying my emotions, but at that point I didn't care. My friends were gone. I would never see them again. As months past, the team grew closer, but that day we were broken. Each in our own misery, yearning for the clocks to turn back. Wishing the day would start over so we could try again.
But that couldn't happen.
