Addiction

Disclaimer: I owned nothing but the ideas

Sorry for being so mean. Really I am. I promise a happy ending at some point. Just don't know when yet.

So here goes with the aftermath.

. . .

Derek stood and watched her walk away, before turning and heading back to his car. His head hung low as he stalked towards the nearby parking lot. Oblivious to those who rapidly side stepped to let him pass.

Once inside Derek started the engine and roared off, heading straight home.

Autopilot kicked in and he was there much quicker then he should have been but right at that moment he didn't care if he did get into trouble. Derek wanted to hide away and lick his wounds. He needed to steel himself ready to face her tomorrow.

Slamming his apartment door he paced around in the darkness. Derek knew his way around blindfolded and gathered what he wanted and needed before throwing his jacket off and slouching on the couch. With a huge sigh he opened a bottle of bourbon whiskey and poured. He wasn't planning on getting drunk – a hangover wouldn't help. But he needed to numb the pain. He took a slug of the dark amber liquid, waiting for the burn in his throat from the neat liquor. Something physical to replace the mental burn of what he had just gone through. If it hadn't have been too late he'd of hit the gym, but the type of session he needed would have kept him up all night. Reaching for his cell he changed the alarm. Setting it early so he could fit the extra workout in the morning.

Tossing the cell onto the coffee table he let his head loll back. Closing his eyes Derek cursed. Had he completely lost her?

. . .

Penelope barraged through her apartment, a flurry of colour in an already bright abode. Sobs racked her body as she flung herself onto her bed, cushions bouncing off in every direction. She allowed herself to wallow in her pity. Though she only had herself to blame. She could have had everything she ever wanted. She could have had him.

But no! She had to run away and hide from him. Too scared to admit how she felt.

. . .

Derek tossed and turned, deep in a sleep that was far from restful, the bed covers falling into piles on either side of him. However tonight his mind was not filled with the lust fuelled dreams of late. Instead he was battling nightmares. Images of the disaster date mingled with fears of losing his best friend . . . forever.

. . .

Turning onto her side Penelope stared at the cell in her hands before putting it down on her bedside table. She had tried sleeping but had been unable to settle for long. Her mind was racing, full of things she should have said to her best friend. She was cross with herself for hurting him. Instinctively she reached for her phone again. She read and reread the words on the screen. Her finger hovering over 'send'. It was late, but she wanted to let him know. She never meant to hurt him. She just could accept what he was saying. She did love him but . . .

. . .but had run instead of telling him. She had hidden from her best friend, who had just opened his heart to her. Who had just confessed to loving her. Telling her how he felt.

Penelope read it once more, knowing words came to her much more easily on a screen then they ever did in person. Yet he deserved better. He deserved her to tell him, face to face as he had her.

Pressing delete she started again. A simple message: 'Forgive me x'

. . .

The single bing of his phone startled him, though it did not wake him, his nightmares had already done that. Rolling over he grabbed his cell, squinting as the screen lit up. The banner of the message said it all. It was from her, she was obviously still awake too.

"Forgive me" he whispered the words to himself. Letting out a sigh his hand dropped down by his side, letting his phone land on the soft pile of bedclothes beside him. Staring at the ceiling Derek knew he needed to reply. She would literally be holding her breath, but what did he write. Feeling around for the cell he looked at it once more.

Forgive her, for what? She didn't love him. That wasn't a crime. He knew he had a reputation of being chased by all the women, but Penelope Garcia wasn't like other women. She was unique. He should never have assumed his charms would work on her they way they had on others in the past. He only had to look at her recent boyfriends, Sam and Kevin, to see he wasn't her type. They were friends, he should have been happy with that.

He began to type: 'You did nothing wrong. Therefore there is nothing to forgive. Dx'

. . .

Penelope let out a sigh as her cell chimed and the screen lit up. She read his words, twice, not believing his reply. Just how good was this man?

Nothing wrong! How could he say that? She hadn't seen him that crushed in years. She had visibly hurt him, just without leaving a visible scar. Right now she hadn't forgiven herself so how could he be so gracious. He should be angry with her, not forgiving her.

Frustration built in her. Penelope sat up, contemplating a reply. Making several attempts and deleting each she began to pace back and forth across her room. Eventually she dropped back onto the soft, fluffy bed and began typing: 'You are too kind. I know I hurt you. For that I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you x'

. . .

Derek was hugging the hot mug of coffee in his lounge when his phone beeped. He had officially given up on sleep. He read the message; he could almost hear the panic in the words. Maybe he should call her, calm her. His heart hurt at the thought of hearing her voice again so soon. Instead he decided to reply with a text: I'm good, don't worry. See you later.'

. . .

Fear filled Penelope as she read the words. So final. He didn't want to talk to her, but that was what they needed to do.

They needed to talk.

Not in some fancy restaurant or at work. She needed to talk to him. Tell him how she felt before it was all too late.

Penelope fell back on her bed, clutching her phone. Not daring to send another message. Her eyes fluttered shut and fresh tears began to fall, literally crying herself to sleep.