It was hard to breathe through the steam that had consumed the large bathroom. He'd taken to extremely hot showers since recovering from his kidnapping and torture. The scalding hot water took his mind off of the pain that still radiated from the scar that ran down his chest.

He stood naked in front of the mirror, numb and freezing even though the temperature in the room was at least eighty-six degrees. With his right hand he wiped the condensation away revealing his reflection. His eyes went immediately to the discolored darkened strip of melted skin that seemed to divide him in half. From time to time the pain was excruciating as if he were back in that farmhouse six months ago. His doctors had warned him that it could take years to fully heal if ever.

Mercifully, the steam slowly covered the mirror again and he turned and stepped into the shower under the water allowing it to beat against him and take him away from the memories of that night. Now he needed something to take his mind away from the present and the admission of his wife that she'd aided the others in hurting him. She'd shared his life, this house and had been close enough to him each night to kill him in his sleep. He'd always believed that if he could survive his childhood abuse, he could survive anything…he had second thoughts about that now.

Penelope had found the remnants of a roast beef dinner. Savannah was a worse cook than she was so it was no doubt Derek's handiwork. She pulled the roast, potatoes and carrots from the refrigerator and placed them on the counter. He would protest against her going through any trouble for him and he'd swear that he wasn't hungry. He hadn't eaten in nearly two days and so she knew that he knew that she would insist on him eating. That was who they were…caregivers for each other. He'd watched over her when she'd been shot and so she would do the same for him.

Derek turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. The room was still fogged up and for that he was grateful. He didn't want any more reminders of how his body was now disfigured all at the hands of the woman he'd sacrificed everything for. He couldn't wipe the notion from his mind that she had orchestrated it all…found the house in the remotest place possible so that no one could hear his screams. The mission was to hurt him and humiliate him then when he was broken and shattered in a million pieces there would be no witnesses as he begged for death.

Garcia had insisted that he come here…home to eat, shower and then to rest. He loved her for it and he knew that she meant well. But this was no longer home; how could it be? His son's nursery was across the hall but he couldn't bring him here even though Derek would make sure his son never found out about what his mother had done. This was supposed to be their sanctuary from everything; their jobs, the things they both saw each day. He'd given up any notion of a life with Penelope and he'd willed himself to stop seeing her face in his dreams. Besides, it had been eleven years, plenty of time for his best friend to show him she wanted more. He did that for Savannah because he had convinced himself that she was the best he could have and far better than he deserved. It made sense… and it was safe. She'd fought for him; no one had fought for him before and she refused to let him walk away from her and them. But it was all a lie; all a part of an elaborate plan that was brilliant in it's execution. Now here he stood in the middle of their bedroom, naked and fully exposed for the fool that he was. He wondered if maybe death would have been better than what he was left with. For all practical purposes, he should be dead. He'd cheated death too many times to count. He wondered now if it wasn't death that was cheated. Maybe he was the one who'd lost out in the end.

"Pops…where are you? I still need you to walk through this with me. It's not over…not by a long shot."

Morgan entered the kitchen just as Penelope placed two plates on the table. She'd found the roast beef he'd prepared two days ago. Savannah still couldn't cook even though she'd bought several cookbooks and had gone through at least three sets of cookware in her attempt to prepare him a decent dinner. Her persistence made him love her more and further confirmed that his decision to stay and make them work was the right one.

He took the seat closest to the window and Penelope sat across from him. He eyed the meal of leftovers and managed to force a half-smile as he looked across the table at his best friend.

"I hope you don't mind me rummaging through your kitchen…"

"Of course I don't mind. Thank you I appreciate this."

"Let me guess; you cooked this, right?"

"I cooked it. I can't afford any more pots and pans. Crate and Barrel has already offered me a part time job."

Penelope laughed nervously as she picked up her napkin and spread it across her lap. She watched as he did the same while eyeing his plate, which had enough food for two people.

"How was the shower?"

Small talk was never her forte.

"Good. I really needed it too."

He still hadn't touched his fork and his eyes were still focused on the plate.

"Eat your food before it gets cold, Handsome."

"I'm not really hungry…"

"What's Hank going to think if his daddy passes out in the middle of the hospital nursery?"

He shook his head fully understanding what she was trying to do. Again, she was his lifeline. His hand shook as he picked up the fork and held it above his plate. He remembered the night he made the roast. It was his first full day home after back-to-back cases that had kept him out of town for almost a month. Savannah was barely speaking to him and he felt guilty. She was tired and irritable and her own work schedule had worn her down. He'd rushed home after completing his paperwork to surprise her with dinner. She'd always raved about his roast beef, potatoes and glazed carrots.

He set his fork down next to his plate. His stomach wasn't quite ready to attempt a heavy meal. Penelope watched him not sure what to say or do next.

"I should have chosen you."

He didn't recognize the voice but he knew the words. It was as if his heart had spoken out loud. He kept his focus on his plate.

"What?"

"I should have chosen you." He repeated.

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't help but think that I deserved all of this."

She was really confused now. She wondered why he wouldn't look up and meet her eyes.

"You're a good man, Derek Morgan and you…nobody deserves this."

"I do. This is what happens went you're not brave."

"But…you're the bravest man I know."

"No. Don't you get it?" Finally he lifted his head to meet her stare. "I'm a coward. This is all my fault because I was too afraid."

The sound of her chair scrapping the hardwood floor broke the otherwise silent stupor that had blanketed the room. He watched her as she stood and took the chair to his left. His eyes followed as her hands took his left hand and enveloped it in hers.

"Don't let Omar win, Baby Boy; don't let Savannah win. This isn't your fault."

"You've always been there for me…always…no matter what. You've stood by me when no one else was there."

"I'll always be there…no matter what…even if it's just you and me."

She saw the first tear fall then the next. He struggled to keep the others in place but it would only be a matter of time before more tears would follow. Still even in the midst of all that had happened, she admired his strength.

"I-I-I need to tell you something. I need you to know because I'm not sure what's going to happen…what Savannah…"

Abruptly he pulled his hands from hers and stood turning his back to her he stared out of the window. Then he chuckled and shook his head acknowledging the truth before sharing it out loud.

"It made so much sense…you know?"

"No, baby I don't know."

"Savannah…and me. I never imagined her. She was never a part of my dreams. I just thought she would be like all the other women…that eventually she'd be gone and then…"

"There would be someone else to take her place?"

"Yeah." He chuckled again.

"But she wasn't like every other woman was she?"

Penelope wasn't sure she could handle his answer. She could already feel the fissures forming down the center of her heart.

"No she wasn't. She wouldn't leave and she wouldn't let me leave. She just stayed. It was like she knew me and loved me anyway."

"You fell in love with her."

Now she fought her own tears.

"No. I fell in love with the possibility of her…"

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Then she got pregnant…I thought it was God telling me that I needed to stay with her and love her and our child."

"Derek, you loved her and the two of you made a beautiful baby."

"No, Baby Girl you don't understand. I fell in love with the possibility of her being the woman I could love because I…"

She placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned her body against his.

"Because what?"

"Because I couldn't have you."

Savannah was a patient woman and she only worked with those who understood the value of patience. Zolton was one of those people; like Savannah he had been trained by the best, the man who'd taught Savannah and dozens like her. So, it was no surprise that he hadn't pulled up across the street in a dark sedan. He didn't cut the engine and watch from the dark shadows while straining to make out the silhouettes of the two people, one man and one woman through the window of the medium-sized ranch on the corner. No, Zolton knew better…he'd found a way into the house. He'd entered long before the couple had arrived and he was perfectly willing to remain hidden for as long as it took for them to create an opportunity for him to strike.

He absolutely adored his job. He'd been doing it since before Savannah had joined the family as a young child. My how time had flown. The once scared quiet little introvert was now a confident, beautiful killer. She'd become brave and innovative when it came to the art of killing and he was so proud…so very, very proud of the woman he affectionately called, Annah. He loved her like a daughter; he'd do anything she asked…he only asked one thing in return…that he could kill them both.