Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.
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Please enjoy this part!
Safe
Part 10
By N. J. Borba
Derek slipped in and watched her work for a few minutes, impressed by how her fingers seemed to process information as fast as her head, maybe faster. The multiple computer screens let off a soft green glow that was absorbed by the computer tech's platinum hair. He was surprised she'd never tried dying in green. Penelope Garcia was probably the least likely person to ever become friends with a guy like him. Maybe that's why their relationship was so strong.
"Morning, baby girl," he finally announced his presence.
Without turning her head, she replied with a clear note of disappointment, "You're an idiot."
Morgan frowned, a little surprised by the sudden attack. He played along, though, not sure what he'd done to warrant her hurtful words. "Is this something new I've done, or just my everyday being an idiot type of thing?"
"Oh, this idiocy has been going on for a while now and you know it," her response was firm.
"Garcia," he sighed. "Why do I feel like I need a secret decoder ring for this conversation? You wanna help me out a little?"
Penelope swiveled around in her chair. She scrutinized him, jiggling a ball point pen between the thumb and index finger of her left hand. "What day is it?"
"August 16th," he replied.
"So, how long has it been since you and Reid rescued the fair maiden, Emily Prentiss?" She arched a brow.
His frown returned with a vengeance. "About three months," Derek answered.
"Don't strain your self too hard on this one," Garcia warned. "In that three months, how many times have you told Emily that you love her?" She watched as his eyes darted around the room, avoiding the question. "The answer is a big fat zero." She stopped wagging her pen at him. "What gives, stud? You love her, you told me that yourself."
"It's not that easy," Derek replied.
"Oh, but it is," she quickly countered. "Wasn't it Emily who asked you to stay the night with her in that hotel room on her birthday?"
His brows formed a deep V at the bridge of his nose. "I told you that?"
"Yes you did," she nodded. "Derek, you were crushed by her death. Hell, you didn't even believe she was dead, and you were right. You've barely left her side since she was found. I know you love her; you told me your mother knows that you love her. I'm sure Reid knows you love her, and probably the rest of the team. Although, Hotch would probably rather go down on a sinking ship than admit he knows it. So, why are you still moping around here like a lost puppy?"
Derek sighed heavily. "She's been through so much recently."
"Damn right," Garcia agreed. "Emily has been to hell and is still clawing her way back. Don't you think she might like to know there's someone who loves her and will be there for her no matter what?"
"I don't know," he shrugged.
Garcia groaned in frustration, got to her feet, physically turned him around and pushed him toward the door. "Get out of my office. I don't want to see you again until your head is screwed on right."
"Penelope…" Morgan tried to protest.
"No! Don't even try preaching to this choir. Go! Get! Shoo!" she pushed him again until he was out in the hall.
Morgan watched the door close in his face.
xxx
As he walked down the hospital corridor, the work day behind him, Derek realized that Garcia was right. Love was a risk he'd never let himself consider before Emily had walked into his life. But that night in her hotel room seemed like another lifetime ago. And he didn't want to push her. Morgan wouldn't be bullied by Garcia. He knocked on Emily's door and resolved to be her friend, like always.
She invited him in. "Are you leaving on another case?" Emily asked, watching as he sat a duffle bag down on the chair beside her bed.
"No," Morgan responded. "I…" something caught his eye before he could finish explaining the bag. Derek spotted a fishbowl on the rolling table positioned over her bed. "Is that a Betta fish? Where did he come from?" Morgan gently tapped the glass bowl and the turquoise fish swam to the surface, fins twitching.
Emily nodded. "My mother bought me a fish," she revealed.
"Okay…" Derek looked to her for further explanation.
"She claims I wanted a fish when I was seven years old and she never got me one because we traveled too much to have pets," Emily relayed, pressing a finger against the bowl. She couldn't help smile when the Betta swam toward her.
Morgan grinned too, happy to see Emily enjoying her pet. "You don't remember that?" he asked.
Her smile faded a little. "I remember that it was Erica who wanted the fish, but I didn't tell her that."
"She's really trying," Derek replied.
"I know," Emily agreed. She'd had several long conversations with her mother over the last few months and it had been hard at first, but refreshing too. It felt like she was finally getting to know the woman. "And…" The fish continued to dance where her finger was pushed against the bowl. "It's nice to have something lively in this room."
Derek grinned. "Does he have a name?"
Emily chuckled. "I was thinking about, Oscar. As in, the grouch. He is greenish and…" she aimed her gaze at Derek. "I know what all the nurses call me behind my back. And, yes, I've been a little grouchy, but I've been here for three months and I'm sick of it. I can walk now." She easily caught the questioning look on his face. "With a little help from a cane." Again his look caused her to admit the truth. "Alright, with that walker and someone at my side."
He sat down on the edge of her bed. "You're doing great, Em. And you've shown amazing restraint, because even I think some of those nurses are a pain in the butt," he confessed. "But a lot of them have been really good to you."
"They have," she admitted. "I just want to get out of here."
"Then maybe we should do something more to speed the process along," Derek suggested.
"Like what?"
Morgan grabbed the bag and unzipped it. He pulled out two items of clothing and handed them to her. "I found out the therapy pool is free for a few hours tonight. They let me sign us up for an hour. We'll have it all to ourselves. I know you've been upset about not being able to get out and swim or do other things this summer. I don't imagine this is exactly the swim you had in mind, but…"
"It sounds great," Emily jumped on the idea as she examined the swim attire he'd obtained for her; a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. "Thank you for this," she held the shirt up. One thing she agreed with her doctors on was waiting for plastic surgery until after she was fully recovered.
"You're welcome," Derek pulled his swim trunks out. "Nurse Malcolm will be in shortly to help you change, if that's okay?"
Emily nodded. "She's one of the good ones."
Twenty minutes later they were down in the pool room. Derek jumped into the warm water, sporting dark blue swim shorts and a bare chest. He waited at the bottom of the steps for Emily as the nurse helped her down. Morgan took over at the half way point, putting his hands around her waist as she took three careful steps the rest of the way in. He smiled the whole time, immensely proud of each little step she took.
"I'll be back in an hour," the red-headed nurse let them know before taking her leave.
Derek took bouncy steps through the water, guiding Emily toward the parallel bars that were bolted to the bottom of the pool. "The water helps keep you buoyant, right?" he asked.
"It does," Emily was impressed by how easily she was able to get around with just her hands on the bars and a little support from Derek. She hadn't felt that free in a very long time and enjoyed the moment. When she reached the end, Derek helped her turn around and walk back. They did that circuit several more times until she decided to take a short break. "Will you help me float?"
He readily agreed and led her away from the safety of the metal bars. Morgan watched as she floated atop the water with only his hands beneath her as a safety net. Emily closed her eyes, and her hair fanned out around her head, creating a dark halo that only seemed to reinforce his belief in her angelic qualities. For several minutes, standing there beside her in the silent room, his worries and doubts faded away.
The moment slipped away too soon, but Morgan was happy to help as she did more work on the bars. "Is Hotch mad at me?" Emily asked as they made a turn.
"What?" the question threw him for a second. "Why would you think that?"
"Because everyone else on the team has come to visit me except him," she replied.
"Really?"
"Really," Emily confirmed.
Morgan shrugged. He walked backward in front of her, his hands on hers as she propelled her legs forward. "Well, you know he stays pretty busy with work. And he's trying really hard to make things work with Haley this time."
"Haley?" she paused for a moment, looking up. "The two of them are back together?"
"I keep forgetting you weren't around for most of that," he helped her get going again after losing some momentum in her pause. "You know what happened with the Reaper getting to her and Jack. I guess it brought them closer. Of course, they always loved each other. That was never their problem."
"It was the job," Emily concluded.
Derek nodded. "But it was also the job that helped save her and Jack. I think she's trying to see things with a new perspective. Thankfully, you and I both already know what the job entails," he didn't even realize the implication of his words until they'd exited his mouth. "I mean, it doesn't have to interfere with our friendship." For the first time, the word friendship didn't seem like quite enough in his mind. He really did want more.
Emily remained quiet, though, as she concentrated on each step she took. She didn't acknowledge the powerful undertone of his words, at least, she tried hard not to. But it was very difficult to deny the feel of his hands against her waist as they came to the turning point at the end of the bars. They held her steady with brute strength, but were soft to the touch. And when they brushed against the bare skin of her belly, her stomach flopped.
He didn't help her make the turn. Instead, Derek eased her body closer to his and leaned down to kiss her. His lips pressed against hers, soft and willing, but her body went rigid, frozen in place, and not just because she couldn't walk very well. She made no move to kiss him back and Morgan retreated, realizing the result of the risk he'd taken. "Emily, I…"
"I want to go," she didn't let him finish.
"We still have fifteen minutes left," he tried a different tactic to keep her close a little longer.
She shook her head. "I want to go now," Emily insisted.
Derek swallowed his wounded pride and guided her back to the stairs. He helped her up and into the wheelchair, then called for the nurse to return. Emily remained silent the whole time, barely even looking at him. As he watched the nurse wheel her off, Morgan wasn't sure what had just happened. It felt like more than just a rejection. Her spirit had deflated and it made no sense to him. It was starting to feel like the old adage, two steps forward and one step back. Or maybe the other way around.
xxx
The team gathered for their weekly meeting to discus new developments in their ongoing search for Andrew Carlyle. But, for almost two months, they'd had nothing new to go over. The information they'd gotten out of his brothers didn't amount to much, only that Andrew had inherited a very large sum of money and property from his real father, most of which had been sold off. Garcia had discovered a few business holdings that were still viable, but nothing that had led directly to Carlyle's whereabouts.
"It's like we're back in Quincy, waiting for him to kill again so we have something to go on," Rossi lamented.
Derek sighed. "Actually, it feels more like he's setting another trap."
"He probably is," Reid responded.
Hotch tried to dissuade the doom and gloom talk. "There's nothing classic about his behavior. He's all over the board, which makes him slippery. And he's going to slip in our favor, sooner or later. There's no way he can keep his frustrations locked up for much longer."
JJ entered, arriving a little late. She was carrying a large stack of files that Reid helped her set down on the table. "We've been getting all sorts of reports on missing women and deaths that are similar to Carlyle's pattern. I'm trying to sort through them all, but the precincts are being hyper vigilant. I think our profile scared them."
"Good," Hotch replied, taking a file off the top of the stack. "We need them to be alert. Spread the files around, we can all help go through them and determine which ones we think might actually be Carlyle."
After just a few minutes of scanning, Dave looked up. "Half of the cases I've glanced at so far are single murders," he noted.
"After losing Emily, wouldn't he be more likely to go after just one woman at a time?" JJ asked.
"I doubt it; he finds comfort in what he knows," Reid answered. "Taking and killing two at a time is still familiar and fulfilling to him."
"Fulfilling?" Morgan scoffed. "He won't be satisfied until he gets Emily back, and even that's a stretch. This guy will doubtfully ever be satisfied. If he'd managed to break Emily, he would have moved on to some other form of the fantasy, maybe some way to perfect her. From what Emily has told us, he seems to be chasing an unattainable goal, a perfect wife; probably a woman that his mind can't even grasp."
Dave flipped through his share of files some more. "If any of these murders are him, he's still not sexually assaulting them and is killing mostly by strangulation. None of them have been stabbed, which would make more sense for an escalation. The cutting he did on Emily practically screams of impotence."
"Not really," Reid shook his head.
"Not really?" Rossi questioned. "What do you have to back that up, doctor? We know he couldn't get his wife pregnant."
Spencer didn't bat an eye as he continued to search his own files. "Actually, they hired a surrogate which suggests the fertility problem was with Allison Carlyle, not Andrew."
Rossi couldn't dispute that. "So, what does that tell us?"
"It's not about sex," Reid spoke up again. "The only cutting he did was messages to Emily. And she said he was teaching her lessons; love, honor and obey. He did that for six months, which means he's patient. It's never been about sex for him," he repeated. "It's about love, or at least his skewed version of love."
"Obsession is not love," Derek pointed out.
"It is in his mind," a new voice joined their conversation.
They all turned to see Emily standing in the doorway. She wore dark slacks and a short-sleeved aqua blouse. Her face, thighs and waist had filled out a great deal, nearly returning her to her previous weight. Aside from the way she leaned heavily against the cane in her right hand, she looked ready for business as usual. "Did you walk up those stairs by yourself?" JJ asked, indicating the short stairway up to the BAU room.
"Yep."
"That's great," Reid grinned as he offered her his chair.
Rossi smiled as he watched her sit down. "So, the doctor finally sprung you?"
"Not exactly, I signed myself out," Emily admitted.
Reid frowned. "Against doctor's orders?"
"Yes, but I was only able to stay there that long because of my mother's money. And, trust me; if I'd stayed any longer it would have been hazardous to their health. Also, I finally got this," Emily produced a piece of paper. "I'm officially alive again. I can get new picture ID and find a place to live. My mother sold my brownstone and now some young married couple is living there, I can't exactly kick them out."
"You're going to do all that today?" JJ asked.
Emily nodded. "Yes."
"You're not going alone," Derek finally spoke up. He couldn't hide his worry, even if they hadn't talked in several days.
She answered without facing him. "Nope. My mother is going with me, and I doubt I could go to the bathroom without Liam tagging along," Emily rolled her eyes and inclined her head toward the door where the man in question was standing guard. She caught a glance at an open file in front of JJ. "Is he doing that?" There was no need to mention who the he was that she referred to.
"Maybe," Hotch answered. "Can you tell us more about what happened when you were with Carlyle?
"Most of the time he would show me pictures of events in our life; our supposed wedding, the birth of our daughter. He'd go into great detail about our life together, telling me intimate things he probably shared with his real wife. He tried to suck me into his fantasy world."
"Did you ever play along?" Reid asked.
Emily sighed. "Some days I was so tired and weak that I'd agree with him; tell him I remembered those events. He liked when I told him the day our daughter was born was the happiest day of my life." She bit into her lower lip to keep her emotions in check. "It would satisfy him, for a while."
"What about the phone calls he had you make?" Dave questioned.
"He wanted me to believe the people I knew had moved on; to hear their voices and know I'd never be safe in that world again," Emily informed them.
Reid tapped the file in front of him. "It seems odd that he wouldn't try to contact you now, after losing you."
"Maybe he has," she whispered.
Hotch regarded her a moment. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know," Emily retreated.
"You wouldn't have said anything if you didn't know," Rossi pushed her. "Emily, has he contacted you?"
She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I got a call one morning. He said we'd be together again. But…"
"But what? When was this, today? Yesterday?" Derek frantically asked.
"Two months ago," Emily revealed.
Everyone looked shocked. "And you never said anything?" Hotch was not amused.
"I wasn't sure if it actually happened or not," Emily finally admitted. "It was only a few weeks after I'd woken up and I was having nightmares about still being with him. I heard his voice that morning and thought maybe I was still dreaming."
"And now?" Reid prompted.
"I'm not sure."
JJ could see her friend was upset. "Have there been any other calls?" she asked.
"No."
"I want Garcia to look into it," Hotch announced. "Maybe she can track down incoming call records and get to the bottom of this." He looked to Emily. "You can go now. Thank you for talking to us."
"Actually, sir…" Emily nervously addressed him. "I wanted to speak to you about something else, privately."
Rossi cleared his throat and stood, gathering the files in front of him. "Reid, JJ, why don't we go over these some more in my office," he suggested. "Derek, you can join us if you like," Dave offered, unsure whether Emily would want Morgan to stay or not. The three of them left the room promptly after that.
Derek remained quiet for a long moment then finally got up. "I think I'll go tell Garcia about this new information." He stepped out as well.
Hotch slid into the seat across from Emily. "How are you?"
"Fine," she replied automatically. Looking at his face, she could tell he wasn't buying it. "Getting better, other than thinking I might be going crazy." Emily paused a second before rolling ahead. "Are you angry with me, for what I told you today and… what happened at Cape Cod?" She needed to hear it for herself.
"No," he shook his head. Hotch sighed, realizing that if he expected more honesty from her he should offer his own. "I wish you had come to us sooner about this call. And, yes, I was angry when I realized you'd gone against my order and headed off after Carlyle last year."
She sighed. "I guess I got what I deserved for that mistake."
Hotch looked her in the eye. "No. You did not deserve any of this. Don't think that, not even for a second. What you deserved was a few weeks suspension and a slap on the wrist from me or Strauss. Nothing more."
Emily tried to be comforted by his words, but it wasn't easy to let the blame go. "I didn't go there to kill him," she revealed. "I wanted an answer; I just wanted to know why."
"There are no answers to that question," he quickly replied.
"No, there aren't." She'd come to that conclusion too late. "And that desire flew out the window the second I saw Jessica alive. Nothing else mattered then, except helping her."
Hotch felt his heart go out to her, knowing that she'd learned a lesson the hard way. "You did your job, you saved that girl. Maybe you didn't go about in the right way, but you did what was right in the end."
Emily bravely asked her next question, the real reason she'd asked to talk to him privately. "Do you think there's any chance at all of me getting my job back? I know I'll need to regain your trust, but I still want to be here. This job means a lot to me," she pled her case.
"Technically, the job is still yours," Hotch replied. "And yes, you do need to regain some trust. Your return to the BAU will also come with some other conditions. For starters, you'll be confined to your desk. Paperwork only, for now."
"I love paperwork," she plastered a smile on her face.
He frowned in response to her false sentiment. "Nobody likes paperwork, Prentiss."
"True," she shrugged. "But I'll do it."
"You'll meet with a staff psychologist twice a week," Hotch added.
She slowly nodded her agreement to that. "What about briefings? Can I sit in on those?"
"Sit, yes," he agreed. "But you won't be out in the field until I feel you're ready," Hotch offered, watching as she enthusiastically nodded to all his terms. She was clearly willing to fight her way back to profiler status. He was glad of it. Something still weighed on his mind, though. "Did you join the BAU because of your sister, to try and find out who killed her?"
Emily sucked in a breath. He sure didn't pull any punches. "Did my mother tell you that?"
"She alluded to it, yes," his eyes implored her to respond.
"The answer is yes and no," Emily told him. "I did join the BAU because of my sister, but I never thought I'd find her killer. I ran away that night because it was all I could do, even though I really wanted to help her. That desire led to me wanting to help other people feel safe, at work, in school, at home…" She sighed. "I wanted two sisters to be able to walk down the street and not worry about who might be behind them."
Hotch was moved by her honest explanation. "You can start back whenever you feel ready."
"I'll see you tomorrow morning then," Emily replied.
He cracked a small smile. "I figured you might say that."
xxx
Morgan approached her hotel room door and nodded to Scott who was standing guard. Emily had been back at work for almost three weeks, but she hadn't said more than a few words to him, mostly good morning and good night as she came and left. He couldn't take it any longer. And, even though Garcia was still giving him the cold shoulder too, Morgan had gone to her to find out where Emily was staying. Apparently she hadn't found a permanent residence yet.
Agent Scott knocked and announced Morgan's presence to her. Derek slid inside before she could think to protest. He closed the door on Scott and caught a glimpse of her at the other end of the room. She was seated at a table in front of a large window that revealed an early September sunset. Streaks of gold and orange splattered the sky as she focused on a task that he couldn't identify.
"What are you doing?" he finally asked, moving further into the room.
Emily didn't lift her head. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
He hated when people answered a question with a question, but he gave her some leeway, glad she was speaking to him at all. "It looks like you're folding paper."
"That's what I'm doing."
"Why?"
She exhaled. "Because, there was a time when I would have smoked cigarette after cigarette if I was trying to avoid thinking about things I didn't want to think about. But I stopped smoking, so now I'm doing Origami because it keeps my fingers and my mind busy." Emily held the folded item up for him to see. "It's a crane. Symbol for long life, prosperity and good health. Wish I'd had about a thousand of these when I was locked away in that damn basement."
"Emily, you're not okay," he sighed.
"No shit!" she exclaimed, tossing the crane onto the table as she got up and leaned against the window. "What was your first clue, the fact that my back looks like Swiss cheese or that I'm sitting alone in a hotel room folding paper?" She finally turned toward him, arms folded across her chest. "I'm sorry; I don't want to yell at you."
"Then talk to me," he practically begged.
"Talk?" she scoffed. "I talk to that damn psychologist twice a week to determine if I'll ever be stable enough to do my job again. She wants me to talk about my feelings. What are you feeling, Emily?" her mocking tone stopped as she looked him in the eye for the first time in weeks. "You want to know what I'm feeling?"
He nodded hesitantly, not sure if she was goading him or not. "Yes, I do actually."
"I feel stuck," she was actually relieved to speak those words. "I know he's still out there, waiting for me. I don't feel like I can truly move forward. I also feel homeless. I don't have a home any more because I died and my mother packed my life away, just like she did with Erica. And every place I look at doesn't feel right. It really shouldn't even be that big of a deal because I've lived a hundred different places in my life. But it does matter, because that place was starting to really feel like home to me."
She gulped down a sob, her head shaking from side to side. "And that house where he…" Emily tried to calm herself down. "I used to play in that house with my sister. We blew out our birthday candles there that year. It was the last place we were ever a family, and he took that too!"
Derek went to her, not carrying if she tried to push him away again. He held her and let her cry on his shoulder the way he'd done almost a year ago. When she'd calmed down, Morgan took one of her arms. "Come on. I want to show you somewhere, it's a short drive."
"I don't want to go anywhere," she protested weakly, wiping away tears.
"Well, you're coming with me." Derek wasn't going to take no for an answer, but he knew he needed to make some concessions first. "Look, Emily… I promise I won't try to kiss you. I'll be a perfect gentleman. There's just something that I really want you to see. Please."
"What?"
"It's a surprise."
She looked a little uncomfortable. "I don't like surprises."
"You'll like this one, trust me," Morgan insisted. "But I can't tell you what it is because that would defeat the purpose of it being a surprise, wouldn't it?" He was pleased to see the smallest hint of a smile on her face. "Come on," he handed Emily her cane and ushered her to the door.
"I do," she said as they reached the door. Noticing the confused look on his face, Emily added, "I trust you."
Morgan didn't think he could ask for much more than that at the moment.
xxx
Emily admired the stained glass design in the front door and glanced around the cozy little porch where they were standing. The house was two stories with three bedrooms, but still considered a bungalow according to Derek. It was a Craftsman style Bungalow, to use his exact words. But she still had no idea why they were there, standing outside on the front porch of a bungalow in Alexandria at eight o'clock at night.
"Is this the surprise?" she asked. "Who lives here?"
"You'll find out," Derek replied as he pulled a key from his pocket and opened the front door. He held it for Emily, inviting her in with a wave of his hand and a mysterious smile.
She emerged into a spacious room that flooded with light as Derek flicked a switch. To the left of the front door was a wood staircase leading up. There was a bank of windows along the west side of the space, a stone fireplace dominated the south wall and two heavy wood columns flanked the passage from the living room into the dinning area. He silently led her further into the house, through the dinning area that flowed into a modest sized kitchen.
The kitchen windows faced onto a back yard that she could barely make out in the soft light of a patio lamp. Off the kitchen to the left were a pantry, laundry room and half bath. To the right was a room Derek most wanted her to see. "I think you'll like this," he motioned for her to enter ahead of him.
He was right; Emily fell in love with the space instantly. It was best defined as an office or den. But the room's finest feature was a cushioned window seat with a bay that looked out to the back yard. And the seat was flanked by two tall wood bookcases. "It faces east, right?" she asked. "Morning sun," Emily whispered, thinking it would be a great place to sit and read while drinking her morning coffee.
"I finished this place about two years ago, but couldn't let it go," Derek finally revealed the house's true ownership. "There were renters in here until a few months ago. I never bothered to put a new add in the paper. I think I know why now. I want you to stay here, Emily."
She turned to him. "How much rent do you charge?"
"No rent," he replied. "I want you to have the house. It's a gift."
Her mouth literally hung open in shock. "You're giving me a house?"
"A home, hopefully."
Emily shook her head. "You can't give me a house, Derek."
"I just did."
"But, it's too much."
"It's mine to give and I want you to have it," Morgan insisted. "You can make it your own, new paint or whatever you like. I just want you to have a home again."
His words caused tears to well in her eyes. "I wish it were that simple." Emily ran a hand along the maple woodwork of the bookshelves. "It's not just about a home, Derek. I'm afraid the nightmares will never end." She turned to him again. "Every night when I close my eyes, I hear his voice. I hear those words in my head, the ones he spoke to me, the ones he made me repeat, the ones he carved into my sister's back, and into mine… over and over…"
"Emily…"
"And then there's you," she didn't let him finish. "Derek Morgan, a good guy, my friend until the end of time. You never gave up on me, you fought for me, you sat with me for days and read to me, swam with me… but he's still there. You can't just cover it up with poetry, and quotes and passages from books, or even a house…"
"How about love?" Morgan blurted out the words, not at all the way he wanted to admit his feelings to her. But they were out there and he couldn't pull them back. He didn't want to retract them, or deny it any longer. "Can I cover it up with love? Because that's what I've been trying to do, Emily. Every story I read you, every poem and quote that I whispered in your ear to help silence your nightmares… What I've really been trying to tell you is that I love you."
"Why haven't you?"
Derek inched forward. He cautiously stood in front of her. "According to Garcia, because I'm an idiot," he replied. "But mostly because I was afraid you'd forgotten about that night, your birthday when we agreed to start something more. I thought you forgot, and I didn't want to press anything, not after what you'd been through."
"I never forgot, Derek. How could I when I had this with me the whole time?" she grasped the charm that hung around her neck every minute of every day. "I had you with me the whole time. I never forgot."
"Then why didn't you ever say anything?"
Her eyes fell to the floor. "I thought it was for the best." She took a shuddering breath. "Derek, when I told you I was scared of a relationship with you because the people I love always ended up leaving me… that wasn't exactly the truth. It's because of me that they leave, because I hurt them. I left Erica and she died, I wasn't a good enough daughter on my own and my father left, I made Matthew question everything he ever believed and he ended up dying for it in the end."
Morgan finally had an answer for why she'd pulled away from him. It still didn't make much sense to him, but he tried not to belittle her fears. "So, you think you're cursed?"
"I went after Carlyle on my own. I left you behind and that hurt you."
"You're not responsible for any of those things, Emily. And you are not cursed." He reached out to cup her left cheek. "You're a good person who has dedicated her life to saving other people. Jessica Zanvil sees you as a hero. And I could probably stand here and list off hundreds of other names of people you've helped over the years, lives you've touched that will be all the better for your presence in them. My name would be at the very top of that list."
He took a breath. "The first time you told me about your father leaving after Erica's death, I thought you meant for good. But I spoke to him at your funeral. He returned to your mother and you. Maybe he had trouble dealing with his grief and so did your mother, but they found their way back to one another and made things work. That says a lot in my book, because you have no idea what I would give to have my father back in my life."
Derek smiled weakly. "I can stand here and tell you all of this, over and over, but it'll just be me wasting my breath unless you believe it. You have to forgive yourself, Emily. You have to let go of the guilt. Otherwise you will continue to sabotage every potentially good thing that might come along. I can't do it for you, as much as I'd like to. I will help you any way I can, but you need to find it within yourself to live and not just exist."
Her tears fell freely as she leaned her cheek against his patient, soft, warm hand. "You'll help me?"
"Of course I will, all you have to do is ask," Derek's smile brightened.
Emily let the last of her barrier down. "This is me, asking," she whispered as she leaned in and softly kissed him on the lips.
Morgan savored the brief union. He ran his hands through her hair and smiled down at her. "This is me, agreeing to help," his lips found hers again. Derek lent his love and strength to her through that gentle kiss.
She reluctantly drew her mouth away from his, but leaned against him with her hands clasped behind his neck. "I want him," Emily spoke with malice and determination.
He needed no explanation of her meaning. "Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to get in line. It starts with me, and I think Reid is second. Hotch and Rossi are probably tied for third place. Then JJ and Garcia. Your mother and father, my mom…"
"Your mom?" Emily questioned.
"Oh yeah," he grinned, nodding. "And my sisters too. You have a much bigger army behind you than you realize, angel." Derek looked down at her. "Sorry."
"It's okay, I kind of like it," she admitted.
His brows arched. "Yeah? Who knew the prim Emily Prentiss liked corny nicknames?"
She rolled her eyes. "I deserved that." Emily pulled away from him, but held his hand as they moved into the dinning area again. "So, when can I move in, tonight?"
"Uh, there's no furniture…"
"But all the utilities are on, right?" She watched him nod. "So, I'll sleep on the window seat for a few nights until I buy a bed."
"What about a blanket?"
"It's still warm enough not to need one," Emily ushered him toward the door. "All I have back at the hotel is about one bag's worth of clothes, my book and journal, all which will be easy to pack up. And Oscar, who I think will really like it on that shelf between the dinning area and kitchen. And…"
"Okay, okay," Derek chuckled, delighted to see her so enthusiastic. They reached the door. "But we're swinging by a store tonight to at least get you a blanket and pillow."
Emily consented to that as they stood out on the front porch. She gazed up at the stars for a moment as Derek closed and locked the door. The tranquil moment was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. "It's probably my mother, wondering where I am and what I wore today and what I ate," she rolled her eyes. "I swear she never paid this much attention when I was three." Seeing the look Derek flashed her, she shrugged an apology. It was hard letting her parents back into her life after years of expecting them not to be around much.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Hello, Emily," the voice belonged to neither one of her parents. Her face paled as she held the phone away from her ear and pressed the speaker button. "When are you coming home, Emily? I've missed you," he continued.
Derek squeezed her hand, lending his support. "I have no home with you," she answered.
"You don't mean that, you're just missing me too. But we'll be together again, soon," he insisted. "You will never be…"
"No!" Emily shouted, not letting him use those words against her again. "You will never get to me again!" She abruptly ended the call and took a deep, calming breath. Her eyes sought out Morgan as she tried to reign in her emotions. "Do you think that was my imagination playing tricks on me?"
He shook his head and pulled her closer, kissing her just above the brow line. "No, it most definitely was not. And I don't think it's safe for you to stay here."
Emily's disappointment shown on her face. "What if I have my bodyguard with me?"
"Well, Scott and Liam…"
"I wasn't talking about either of them," she looked him in the eye, relaying her true meaning without words. "And I don't mean to… I'm not ready yet for this to be more than…" Emily bit her bottom lip as she tried to tell him that she needed his love and support more than she needed a lover at the moment. "Will you stay with me?"
Morgan could hear the trepidation in her voice and he pressed another kiss against her forehead, silently relaying that he understood exactly what she wanted. He happily gave her the answer he wished he'd given eleven months ago. "Yes."
To be continued…