Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Hi, all! Sorry for the delay in releasing more chapters of this story. As my semester is winding down I'm finding it harder to find free time in the midst of writing all my papers. However, I would like to try to post more regularly so we still have some Morcia in our lives (as you can see, I'm never going to get over Morgan's exit lol). Thank you so much to everyone who has read and/or reviewed!
Derek shot awake at three o'clock in the morningin a cold sweat. He'd had another nightmare, this time in a violent warzone where he'd been shot to death.
Everything had been loud. A torrential downpour of rain soaked him to the bone as his boots trudged through sludge and muck of the trenches. Bullets zoomed in the air and explosions sounded as the earth shook beneath he and his fellow soldiers. The only thought in his mind had been the woman he loved, his wife who had been killed in a bombing from technology the Great War had introduced to the world.
What scared him was he didn't know how he knew any of this. The man in his dream had not been him, Derek Morgan. It was someone who was a complete stranger to him.
"Derek?" Savannah said from beside him. She turned the light on, running her hand up his arm.
His eyes shot to her, his muscles tensing beneath her touch. Savannah took her hand back, her jaw hardening. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Did you have another nightmare?"
"Uh, yeah," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed his sweaty forehead and cleared his throat. "I…I need to – " He rose to his feet so he could stumble toward the dresser where his phone was. He turned it on so the light of the screen blinded him momentarily. Opening his contacts, he stared at Penelope's name.
He didn't know why, but for some reason he was scared to death something had happened to her. He had seen her just two nights ago, but he couldn't shake the lingering feeling that something had happened to her after the dream he'd experienced about them.
Yet, it hadn't really been them…had it?
Savannah huffed from the bed. "What? You need to make a call at this hour?"
"Just let me do this," he said, gritting his teeth.
She shook her head. "You know what? Fine! You go ahead and call Garcia."
Turning around to face his girlfriend, Derek glared at her. "Don't," he grumbled. "Don't go there with me. She's my best friend, and I'm just calling to talk with her."
Savannah rolled her eyes once more. "You know? Why don't you just drive over and see her?" she said. "You spend more time talking to her than me anyway."
The two engaged in a fierce staring war before Derek finally got so mad that he nodded. "You know what? I think I will!"
Not even thinking, he threw on a pair of sweatpants and a hooded zip-up sweatshirt. He didn't even bother to put a shirt on.
Savannah rose angrily from the bed. "I wasn't serious!" she said, incredulous. She was barely able to move aside as Derek stormed past her. "Derek! Derek, where are you going?"
He turned around and arched a brow at her. "Where you suggested," he said, spinning on his heel to head for the door.
XXXXX
Derek strode up to Penelope's apartment, not caring whether or not Sam was home with her. He needed to speak to her.
Banging on the door, he waited impatiently for Penelope to show up as he pounded his fist against the hard wood. As he knocked, a door opened into the hallway, but not Penelope's door.
"Keep it down out there!" an elderly woman shouted at him.
He turned to glance at her, rubbing his tired eyes. "Sorry, ma'am," he said. "I – "
Before he could finish, the door opened to reveal a very exhausted Penelope. She squinted at him, unsure at first of who it was.
"D – Derek?" she mumbled. "Hot Stuff, what are you doing here? It's after three in the morning."
He couldn't say anything. His heart leapt into his throat, smothering his voice. What words were there to say that he was standing at her doorstep because of a dream where she had been his wife killed in World War I? How could he tell her that dreams and reality had ceased to feel different from one another?
Her eyes fluttered open enough that she could see him clearer. She grew concerned. "Baby Boy, what is it?"
Pushing her inside, Derek kicked the door shut behind them. He clutched her arms tightly, unconscious to the fact he was digging his nails into her skin. She raised her hand to his cheek.
"Derek, you're really worrying me," she said, trying to steady him. She led him to the couch to help him sit down. "You're not drunk are you?"
He shook his head, every limb in his body numb. Looking into her eyes, he blinked. "Are you…are you okay?" he said. His voice was barely above a whisper.
Penelope couldn't hold in a small giggle. "Baby Boy, you know I'm okay," she said. "You came and found me."
"I – I just…" His voice trailed off and he knew he just couldn't let the words escape. She would never believe him if he told her what it really was he had come over there for. So he lied. There was nothing else he could do. "I just don't know what I would do without you. You know that?"
She smiled. "Aww, thanks Sweet Cheeks," she said, touching his eyebrow.
Derek caught her hand, though, not allowing her to her drop it. Her palm felt warm against his as he held her hand, a sweet, ethereal heat he didn't want to lose. Both of them sat eerily still. Their hands remained entangled as time slowed down. He became aware of everything in that moment: the scent of her mussed up hair, the softness of her breath, her eyes brimming with wonder.
Everything became about Penelope.
As they sat in the living room, she cleared her throat to break the silence. "You need to sleep," she said. "Sam isn't here tonight. Why don't you stay on the couch? It's too late for you to be driving home."
He held her still, though. After all these weeks that stretched into months of nightmares of losing her – or at the very least representations of her – he had finally reached a breaking point. He never wanted to let her out of his sight. He wanted to protect her.
Without uttering a word, Penelope leaned against his chest and pushed them backward so they were resting comfortably on the couch. He knew she'd sensed what he could not physically say.
"Let's just sit here, then," she murmured, wrapping an arm around his waist.
He nodded, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Sounds good," he said, as they fell back asleep in one another's embrace.
XXXXX
Penelope sat with Reid at work, yawning in exhaustion. Both exchanged croissants as they sat in her office as he droned on about something to do with Star Trek.
"And in the final few episodes, Shatner – " Reid started to say before stopping abruptly. "Garcia, are you okay?"
Swallowing hard, Penelope nodded. "Yeah, I'm peachy," she said, unable to stifle a yawn. "Just…a little tired." She yawned midsentence.
"You seem more than a little tired," he said. "Are you still not getting any sleep?"
She shrugged. "Well, something like that. And Derek coming over at three in the morning only made things worse."
Reid's eyes went wide. "You're – Morgan what?"
Penelope laughed at his expression. "Why do you look like that?" she said. "You – " When realization struck her, she burst into a fit of giggles. "Why does everyone think Derek and I are hooking up? It's not happening."
He shook his head. "No, I…I just wasn't sure what you meant," he said. "Has – has Morgan been having problems sleeping?"
She shrugged. "Well, I'm pretty sure he's always had trouble sleeping, but he came over because of a nightmare." She smiled to herself, remembering waking up on the couch that morning wrapped under Derek's arm.
"Has he told you any of the dreams he's had?" Reid asked, leaning forward and wiping crumbs off his hands onto a napkin. Genuine curiosity lit up his eyes.
Penelope frowned. She had not quite understood Reid's fascination with her nightmares, but it wasn't until just now she realized it was somewhat odd he was so invested in what she was dreaming.
"Why are you so interested in what I'm dreaming about?" she asked, arching a brow.
It was Reid's turn to frown. "Umm, but I'm not asking about your dreams right now," he said. "I'm asking about Derek's."
She tapped his nose. "Don't play coy with me, Boy Genius. You know what I'm talking about. You've talked me through everything I've come to talk to you about. You always want to hear about the dreams."
Reid didn't meet her eyes, but he took a nibble out of his croissant. "Just curious," he said. "You know me, I like hearing about people's psychological things."
Even as Reid spoke, Penelope still had the niggling feeling he knew something. Something in his eyes told her he knew something. She shook her head, questions burning in her chest.
"You sure there's nothing you want to tell me?" she asked, pursing her lips.
Looking up at her once again, Reid met her eyes and held the gaze. She could clearly see he knew something.
"Nope," Reid said. "Just a genuine curiosity."