Emily packed a small cooler with bottles of water, some fruit, and a few cereal bars. It was a long drive into Pennsylvania and they didn't want to stop any more than necessary. It was exactly 7 a.m. when she heard Penelope pull into her driveway. She grabbed the cooler and her black hoodie, and headed out the door. Without any delays, they would be at the hospital before noon.

The two women who loved Derek Morgan made the drive in relative silence. They chatted a bit about work. They talked some about the mountains, and the light volume of traffic. Mostly, they were lost in their private thoughts.

Penelope had spoken to Mrs. Morgan last night, who always sounded hopeful. She also talked with Hotch, who said they would be doing some neurological tests on Morgan on Monday. They may transfer him to a long term care facility. His doctors were recommending intensive rehabilitation and sensory stimulation to aid in his recovery. Hotch said they were looking into places in Chicago, so he would be near his family. He didn't expand any further on what he was saying. It wasn't necessary. The implications were obvious.

She slept fitfully last night. Every moment she and Derek had ever spent together replayed in her mind. It was hard to quell the sense of panic she felt whenever she allowed herself to realize that he may not recover.

Emily had had no more sleep than Penelope. She and her mother argued on the phone early last evening.

"Really, dear," Elizabeth Prentiss told her daughter, "he seemed nice enough, but he really wasn't your type."

"Stop referring to Derek in the past tense, Mother. He isn't dead…And, what do you mean 'not…my…type?'"

"Well, I really didn't want to say anything. He's attractive enough…and I can see that he, um, projects a 'sexual charisma' you might be attracted to…"

"Mother, what the HELL are you trying to say?"

"…and I can understand someone like him wanting to better himself by being with a girl like you," Elizabeth continued.

"WHAT?" Emily said, sharply.

Elizabeth spoke evenly. "I'm just saying, dear…"

"Mother, explain 'someone like him.' Are you talking about his race, because if you are…"

"Oh, no, no, of course not, dear" her mother replied. "Why, you know I am not prejudiced…"

"Of course not," Emily repeated, sarcastically.

"Honey, it's just that he's a little, uh…a little too blue collar. You don't really think he would fit in with our friends, do you?"

In the last several months Emily had tried hard to develop a relationship with her mother. Emily and Elizabeth had never been close. Sadly, she understood that they would never be. She didn't even like the woman.

Emily's parents were career diplomats. All of her life, she had been taught to be proper in her speech and behavior. She bit back the words she wanted to say. "This conversation is over, Mother." She simply said, "Good-bye."

Like Garcia, Emily had little sleep. She wished she had taken the vacation she and Derek had planned. Perhaps, if they had been together, there wouldn't have been an accident. Maybe they would have been on another road, or traveling at a different time. She might have reminded him to slow down. She knew he often drove too fast, but he was more cautious when she was with him. She knew she had hurt him when she backed out of the trip. She was afraid she wouldn't have the opportunity to apologize.

Emily tossed and turned most of the night.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Fran was dozing in a chair near her son's bed. There was a book in her lap that she had fallen asleep reading to him. Emily squeezed her shoulder, slightly. "Mrs. Morgan."

She was quickly awake." Hello, girls," she smiled. "I'm glad you made it." Fran was tired, but she stood up and hugged them both.

Although she looked considerably younger, Mrs. Morgan was nearly sixty years old. She was spending more than twelve hours a day with her son. She wished she could stay longer, but she understood the need to take care of herself.

Every morning and evening Fran walked the half mile between her hotel and the hospital. Spring in the mountain city was picturesque. She would pause for a few minutes at a small park by the Susquehanna River. Sitting on a bench near the river's edge, she would watch the sunlight dancing on the swiftly moving water, while she prayed for Derek. She would ask God for strength, and she would talk to her husband. "Please, Sam, watch over our boy. It was so hard losing you. I can't bear to lose him, too."

Because of the distance involved, Derek hadn't had visitors. His sisters had wanted to fly out from Chicago, but Fran wouldn't hear of it. She knew Des couldn't afford to pay airfare or take time from work. Sarah had just started a new job." I have enough sick time accumulated," she told her daughters matter-of-factly. "I can stay with your brother until he gets back on his feet."

It had been an arduous week for Fran. Her fortitude was waning more than she wanted to admit. She was grateful to see Derek's friends arrive.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Derek lay very still, trying not to aggravate the agonizing throb in his head. He had been listening to the soothing sound of his mother's voice as she read to him. Now, he could hear other voices around him. They seemed familiar, but it hurt…oh God, how it hurt…to try to focus on them.

He let himself drift back to a quiet place beyond the pain.

A minute passed, or an hour…he had no conception of time, until he became aware of a scent. It was an aroma he knew, but couldn't quite place. A soft hand took his. "Hi, Handsome," a voice said, tenderly.

He remembered her perfume. He had given it to her for Valentine's Day. It was "Forbidden Fantasy" and he bought it for her at a mall in Manassas. "Derek." He felt Emily's body close to his, as she leaned down to kiss him.

((Damn, Baby, you smell good…You know that stuff turns me on.))

She was holding his hand and talking to him. "I'm so sorry I couldn't come sooner. I wanted to be here, really, but it is so far…"

((How was your visit with "Mommy, Dearest?" Bet she gave you an earful on why you shouldn't be dating me…the Bitch…I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.))

"I made a mistake cancelling our vacation. I should have been with you…"

((What are you wearing? I loved that green sweater you wore the night we went out to the Chinese place. Made the guys look great. Damn, I'd like to pop one of those pretty boobs into my mouth and……ah, no, I wouldn't……I can't……I don't know what the hell I was drinking, but I feel rotten…I don't think I could do anything right now.))

He felt her stroke his face. "I love you, Derek. I would have told you sooner but I was so afraid you didn't feel the same…"

He couldn't think any longer. His head ached too badly. ((Damn, Em, I'm sorry. I can't…)) Pain forced him back into the void where he didn't hurt.