Series 8 One-shots: Magnificent Light
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.
Here's a Morgan one-shot. This is set several years before at the Fallen Law Enforcement Memorial that Morgan referred to in the scene. Just my take on what happened.
. . .
Prompt
Morgan: Baby Girl it wasn't stage fright . . . I wasn't ready to discuss my feelings about my father in public.
. . .
Pulling into the parking bay Derek yanked on the hand-break before settling into a fresh bout of adjusting his pristine uniform.
Derek was officially no longer a Rookie, his probationary period was complete. He was now a fully fledged Chicago town copper. And here he was in his best dress uniform, which he hadn't worn since his graduation. He had been asked to pay honour to his father as part of the memorial service. It wasn't that he hadn't been asked before, but now he wore the same uniform his father had then it was the time to remember his father publically. The Morgans had attended the memorial of all fallen officers each year, joining those who had also lost husbands, brothers, mothers, sisters, cousins and friends.
Removing the keys slowly from the ignition, Derek tried to focus on anything other than his forth coming speech. He had practiced it so many times that he had practically memorised it. Though it wasn't fear of tripping over his own words that troubled Derek today, but the words themselves. Words that he hadn't spoken out loud to anyone, not even his mother.
Leaving the car and walking, with his family, Derek hoped that the shameless mingling would help him to relax a little. But to no avail. Sticking together the Morgans drew a fair amount of attention. Which was no surprise given his father's status within the force. Rank hadn't been important to Bill Morgan. He held several personal qualities in much higher regard. And that was something that had earned him the reputation of the one man you could trust, regardless of what was going on.
Derek stood defensively by his mother's side as several familiar people came to speak to her. Though he recognised many of the people from their annual attendance of the memorial, he couldn't help but wonder where they were the rest of the year. The insincere smiles unmasked the offers of support repeated each time they met.
Hovering by his Mom, Derek admired his mother presence. She had managed all these years on her own bringing up the three of them, and none of them giving her an easy time of it. However she had never given up on them. She didn't need him to defend her, yet he felt he owed her, it was how he had been brought up.
Since his father's passing Derek had become the man of the house. Not that he felt he had done a good job of that, especially not to begin with. However he had been busy making up for it over the last few years. Derek had finally got himself sorted. He had moved on and made something of himself. This was the start of making it all better. His chance to return the unconditional love his parents had shown him.
He had been loved, it was the one undoubtable part of his life. His early childhood memories are filled with loving family moments. His parents had worked hard to make life the best they could. They might not have the abundance of material objects but they had a plethora of memories. Good times to share and reminisce over. Days at the park, weekends camping, learning to decorate his bedroom, tinkering on his Dad's old bike – each of them filled with laughter.
Of course there were tears and tantrums too. They were a normal family not super human. Derek could remember Sarah's first strop over not being able to stay as late at Cassie's as she wanted or how he had got into trouble for bad grades. Des had been too young to really get further then the basic tantrums of a young child each she was told she couldn't have more candy or whatever it was she wanted. But regardless of the cause or what they did, they were loved and they knew it.
Until that fateful day their life had been built on secure foundations. They were encased in a family that nurtured their talents, set firm boundaries and encouraged them to develop valuable qualities such as a strong sense of duty to others. All of which stayed with the Morgan children as they battled through the hard times and worked solidly to become the adults they now were.
And Derek had worked hard to pull himself out of the gutter that he had slid into after his father's death. It had been easy to be angry with the world. Just as easy to use his father's death as an excuse for the things he did that he knew were wrong. However events changed him and it was a series of harsh lessons to learn – bullies at school, trouble with the police then there was him!
Now it was all very different. He was determined to make his parents proud. Derek was aware how worried his mother was that he was following his father's footsteps. However he would also never forget the look on her face as he had graduated basic training, or his first day out on the street. He only hoped his father was just as proud of his decisions.
As the endless polite chit chat died and everyone started to take their seats the memorial ceremony begun. Derek sat on the end of the aisle, his Mom right there beside him. As he listened to the words of others he began to fidget. Nothing obvious – adjusting his tie, straitening the badge on his cap, shuffle of one foot then the other. He only realised what he was doing when he felt his mother cover his hand with hers, squeezing reassuringly.
Fran Morgan was the one person who knew how many times Derek had been asked to do this. She had never once pressurised him into talking to the podium to pay his respects to his father, to be honest she was more of a personal and private person, much like himself.
Derek's turn came around, before he stood she squeezed his hand once more and offered a weak smile. Striding confidently, Derek tucked his cap under his arm as he grasped his notes tightly. Swallowing hard he placed his first foot on the step up to the podium. Placing down his hat and notes Derek gripped the sides of the podium. His eyes glanced the audience, finally resting on his Mom. She nodded encouraging - ever his pillar of strength.
But today that wasn't enough.
Stepping back without having said a word, Derek tried not to run but attempt to walk away with dignity. Talking long strides back down the aisle, he passed his family, ignoring their attempts to reach out to him. He kept on going, as Derek reached the perimeter of the grassed area before the car park, he heard the strong tones of Sarah's voice speaking the very words he had written. She had stood up where he couldn't.
Hitting the roof of his car hard, Derek turned and slumped against the side, barely aware of his mother's presence. Silently she placed an arm around his shoulders.
"I'm sorry. . . I . . ."
"Shhhh," Fran cooed, tip-toeing up to place a kiss on his temple, "Sh Honey, none of it matters. Your just not ready yet."
. . .
"In times of grief and sorrow I will hold you and rock you and take your grief and make it my own. When you cry I cry and when you hurt I hurt. And together we will try to hold back the floods to tears and despair and make it through the potholed street of life"
Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook
