[Trigger Warning: Thoughts of suicide. Reader's discretion advised.]
*
[Third Person's Point of View]
"Miss Dawson."
Dr. Hopper was a middle aged man, with glasses and slightly grey hair framing the kind features of his face. The good doctor shook Elizabeth's hand, offering her a benevolent smile. Elizabeth couldn't help but think that this must be the smile the doctor give every time he's about to deliver a bad news:
This is it. You have cancer. You're dying. There is no cure. I'm very sorry, Miss Dawson.
"Yeah," the red head put a polite smile on her face, ignoring the words floating about her head as she shook the doctor's hand.
"Thank you for coming in so quickly. There are some findings in your blood work that are time sensitive," Dr. Hopper added.
Hearing those words felt like a death sentence. Elizabeth never fear death itself; in fact, she had it all planned out. But this was too soon–too goddamn soon. She didn't know if her soul could ever rest knowing that she will never be able to live long enough to complete her list.
Despite the invisible thick shadow that had settled over her head and shoulders, Elizabeth's expression remained neutral; perhaps the FBI did manage to teach her a thing or two about being stoic.
She caught the doctor looking at Morgan next to her, and she was quick to clear him.
"He's good. You can speak freely and directly. No need to sugarcoat," she told him, getting a nod from the doctor.
"Please," the doctor motioned to the chairs for Liz and Derek to sit. "Have you ever heard of rhesus disease?"
"Uh," Lizzie and Derek exchanged glances at each other before she shook her head. "No. How bad is it?"
"It's terrible. Fatal, in most cases."
At her peripheral vision, Elizabeth noticed how Derek had broken his poker face and moved to rest his forehead on his hand. Having seen the sign of distress on the black agent too, the doctor immediately supplied his statement further in a way that made her feel kind of dizzy.
"But you don't have it," Dr. Hopper added quickly. "It only effects pregnant women and their fetuses."
"I'm-I'm sorry," Liz glanced at Derek, and found that her handsome lover was just as lost as she was, "I don't understand."
"There are some 4,000 cases of rhesus in newborns each year. You are almost an identical match to a man in Australia named James Harrison. For decades, his donated blood saved the lives of more than two million children," Dr. Hopper explained with a bright smile, "They call him the man with the golden blood. Now, it seems you have one, too."
Before, Derek had been trying very hard to mentally prepare for whatever bad news they thought they were going to hear. But this? Derek had to fight himself from laughing out loud–partly in relieve that his baby doll was more than okay; another part was because of the obvious irony–she wanted to end her life, but now? This would put a stop to that, because if he knew Elizabeth at all, she was not selfish.
She'd live. His girl had no choice but to live. And if Derek didn't believe in God before–now he did.
"If you would fill this out," the doctor produced some forms, handing them to Elizabeth, "We would love to get you into our rare donor's program as soon as possible. We could set up regular donations. There are babies at this very moment who need you."
"Babies?" Elizabeth questioned blankly. There was again that lost look on her pretty face. She seemed to shake herself out of it and received the forms from the doctor's hand. "Thank you."
"Congratulations," said the doctor with another bright smile–as if he was telling her a very joyous news like, congratulations, you are now expecting.
Elizabeth swallowed the bile that had went up to her throat. "Yeah."
As soon as the doctor closed the door to give them both the room, Derek slid his chair close to Elizabeth's and wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed a long kiss on the side of her head. He tilted his head, eyes searching for hers. As soon as their eyes locked, hazel and chocolate, he began.
"Doll," his eyes soft and loving as he gazed at her, noticing every brown flecks at the depth of the hazel sea that was her eyes, "If this wasn't a divine intervention, I don't know what is."
His voice was gentle, not judging, yet reminding her of what they both now knew. Now, there was no escape for Elizabeth anymore, and the thought caused tears to pool in her eyes.
"Baby…" Derek sighed softly, frowning in concern as soon as he saw the moisture gathering in her eyes. Seeing women crying in general was his weakness; but Elizabeth was his kryptonite.
"I'm okay. Just still processing this," she told him a half truth. Derek bought into her lies and nodded, giving her another kiss on her temple before letting her be to fill out the forms.
Derek was momentarily over the moon. He had turned upside down in his own head trying to figure out how to proceed to change her mind; even went as far as reading self help book about how to help someone dealing with depression and suicidal thoughts. But then her own hearsay being seemed to take matter into his own hands, in ways that Derek, or anyone on earth could never thought possible.
Simply put, Elizabeth's hearsay being moved the mountain for Derek.
"Babies."
Derek heard her scoff softly as she muttered to herself while her eyes was down to the forms she was filling. Something about her soft whisper was tainted heavily with bitterness, and immediately, whatever happiness was filling his chest earlier was squashed.
Elizabeth wasn't processing this turn of events, Derek realized. In fact, she was hating it, for ways that he could not comprehend. He watched as she ignored him. Her pretty little mouth curved down unhappily; a deep crease had formed between her brows.
His sweet girl was in distress over something that he thought should at least brought her peace. He felt a pang of hurt in his chest.
Derek went back to square one. He still didn't know how to help her.
*
It didn't escape Elizabeth that her best friend and her lover (?) had been throwing worried glances at her once every few seconds as he drove them home from the hospital. Elizabeth was deep in her own mind that she didn't bother to fill in the silence until she noticed that they had made an opposite turn from her apartment.
"Where are we going?"
"My place," Derek answered, having planned all of it since he noticed how disturbed she was being back in her own apartment. "I think you'll be more at ease living in a one-story house for a while than in your place with a broken elevator with your leg right now, sweetie."
Derek sneaked a glance at her, surprised to see her smile.
"Are you saying that I'm fat?"
"What, no," he objected, then a mischievous smirk of his appeared on his face, "I'll miss carrying you in my arms, but I'm just saying I have a king size bed in my house that is much better used for two."
He knew how this kind of talk would definitely get her to blush. But she didn't. Just out of politeness, she gave him a look and a smile. Derek was left to wonder what was going on in that pretty mind of hers?
What kind of pain?
"Pull over here. I need to pee."
Derek did as she bid and pulled over near a gas station with a convenience store. He got up from his seat and dutifully opened her door, helping her up as she steadied herself on her crutches.
"I'm fine, angel of mine," she looked up at him with eyes that bore so many things at once. He needed to understand them. "I can walk myself. Just wait here, I'll be quick."
With a soft kiss on his cheek, she left him without waiting for his response. Derek sighed as he watched her leave.
Elizabeth couldn't wait to shake Derek off of her for a while. Entering the bathroom stall, she sat on the toilet seat and took a shallow, shaky breath in hope to keep in the imaginary suffocating smoke that threatened to escape her.
Putting her head in her hands, many things at once swirled in her mind, but one was screaming at her the loudest.
There is no escape.
Her chest felt like a time bomb, waiting to explode. Her hearsay being had proven to her enough that he wasn't just hearsay. He was real–and he was punishing her for her sins in the worst way possible:
To be forced to live her life without a clear end in sight.
Using babies against her? He knew that he had pulled the greatest checkmate with her.
He also knew that it would be so easy for her to just go a few feet from here, buy a razor blade and spill her blood all over the floor of this bathroom stall; but doing so would be an act of ultimate betrayal that Elizabeth could not do in her conscience.
Also, she couldn't do that to Derek.
The pain in her chest had traveled all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes, making her eyes water. She hugged herself and looked up, blinking the tears away.
No.
Taking a few forceful deep breaths, Lizzie composed herself and got up, out of the bathroom. As she made her way out of the store, she passed an aisle full of an array of choices of alcohols. The way the light of the store shone against the beautiful bottles enticed her to a stop. She looked at them forlornly; yet another escape she was denied. So Elizabeth only stood there, longing, letting her eyes scan the pretty bottles with various liquid of life inside them, noticing how fluid and dynamic they were even sitting there in a perfect stillness.
A pair of strong yet gentle arms slid on her waist from behind. Elizabeth tensed before realizing the familiar warmth coming from the perfectly hard and sculpted body behind her.
"I'm here, baby."
The simple words spoke in more than one way to Elizabeth. That was probably what gave her strength to look away from the temptation to drink again.
She simply couldn't do that to Derek.
Derek's voice was tender just as his hold on her. As he rubbed his cheek on hers, she felt his stubbed jaw brushing against her smooth skin, and it felt wonderful along with the scent of his aftershave and his signature Derek scent.
He felt like home.
"I know," she replied, turning her head to face him.
Their noses touched, and Derek brushed his nose against her in a sweet Eskimo kiss. Elizabeth smiled for him–it's impossible not to. She gave a small thank-you peck on his lips, one that Derek responded to with a smile that reached his eyes.
They stayed like that for a few moment, until a passer by, seemingly a cyberpunk teen, mumbled to himself, 'get a room'. Liz watched as Derek shot the kid a look, who immediately realized that Morgan had a gun strapped on his hip, then the kid cleared his throat, kept his head down, before scurrying away to another aisle, away from Derek's steely gaze.
"Derek," she admonished him gently.
"That'll teach the punk to mind his own business," he said, his eyes returning to warm chocolate as he looked at her.
"Weren't you a punk yourself?" Elizabeth asked rhetorically.
"Still am, cookie," he answered smugly, earning a chuckle from Elizabeth.
"Give the kid a break. You're intimidating enough as it is."
"Am I intimidating to you?"
"Sometimes," she answered meekly.
That earned a frown from Derek. "That calls for a further discussion," he announced, knowing this was not the time nor place to discuss such thing. "But you do know that I love you, right? That I'd do anything for you?"
Elizabeth's lip quivered; it was a similar notion that Jonathan used to tell her, that he'd do anything for her; but she had to remind herself that this was Derek–and Derek was good and kind and selfless. She nodded and turned in his arms to give him a proper hug.
Derek didn't miss the slight deer-in-the-headlight look in her eyes when he asked her that question, and he had to admit that it kind of hurt to know that she ever doubted him, though that thought was quick to disappear the moment he felt her sweet embrace.
If Penelope knew how much head over heels he felt for Elizabeth, she would have demanded him the latest MacBook for winning the bet of their lives–that finally, after all these years sleeping around with random women, fearing commitment, Derek Morgan was finally pussy-whooped enough to want to settle for one woman that managed to bring him to his knees.
To his surprise, he didn't mind the fact at all.
*
The first thing that Elizabeth wanted as soon as they got into Derek's home was a nap. In fact, she continued sleeping from noon all way to the middle of the night, and when Derek tried to wake her to get her to eat, she refused and went back sleeping.
That was not normal. Derek couldn't sleep worrying about his girl, so in the middle of the night he called Pen, not knowing where else to turn to.
"Momma."
There was a weird shuffling noises from the end of the line, making Derek frown slightly. Then he heard Penelope clearing her thought before speaking, her voice raspy, probably from sleep. "I'm up. I'm up!"
"Are you in the middle of something, baby girl?" he said with narrowed eyes.
"No. Um, yes. I was uh, sleeping."
"With who?" Derek asked directly, annoyance in his tone, "Don't tell me you're going back into Lynch's bed because I swear, baby girl, that man doesn't deserve a goddess like you after what he did–"
"Woohoo, relax there my protective chocolate god," giggled Garcia over the phone, "It's not Lynch. It's someone much, much more–" Derek heard her sigh rather sensually over the phone, and Derek couldn't help but smile in amusement at his much expressive best friend. "–wait. Why are you calling at such ungodly hour on your day off? Is someone dead?" she quickly realized, her voice clipped with anticipation.
"No, baby. Also, I can call later. But if it's not too much trouble–could you maybe drop by sometime tomorrow? I need help with something."
Somewhere in Garcia's purple and pink fortress of an apartment, Penelope was fighting a giggle at the handsome hunk that was currently gracing her tummy with wet, teasing kisses as she spoke to her best friend on the phone.
At the same time, a red flag had popped in her mind at the forlorn way Derek spoke to her. Immediately she felt kind of guilty for being so happy while obviously, Derek, her chocolate god, was on his own caring for their sick best friend. And oh, her poor baby bird, Lizzie!
Pen felt like a lousy friend.
"I'll be there before you know it, oh my mighty choc–" she stopped herself and cursed inwardly, realizing that Luke's touch had ceased on her.
Idiot! She admonished herself.
Luke Alvez was incredibly sweet, sexy, and he was so in tune to her needs–he was a very selfless lover, and she never felt quite loved and special before Luke. Being with him made her realized that being with Lynch before was a huge mistake–it wasn't love.
She didn't even know what it was.
But with Luke? Luke was the total opposite of her. He had the quiet charm and an attentive eyes; sweet, sexy and elegant in a way that made even Penelope blush. And she would hate to lose him the way she lost Lynch–out of the sheer unnecessary jealousy of her friendship with Derek.
Penelope cleared her throat again, ignoring the sweet caress on her back from Luke's warm hand. "I'll be there tomorrow at Lizzie's apartment," she corrected herself, making sure that Luke heard Lizzie's name being mentioned in the conversation.
"No, momma. We're at my place. Long story," she heard Derek said from the other end. "See you tomorrow, goddess. Don't do anything I would."
Normally she would respond with something like, Or what, you'll spank me? But minding Luke, who was literally on the back of her neck, she behaved and responded with a good-girl-Strauss-is-listening kind of response. "Good night, my furry friend."
With that she clicked the phone and put it back on the nightstand, and turned to her lover, as she realized, calling Derek her 'furry' friend might also send the wrong message to anyone listening.
Damnit.
Luke Alvez made space as Penelope Garcia turned to face him. Penelope could drool at the way Luke was sprawled naked on her bed–he was like a Renaissance painting, laying there with one hand supporting his head as he gave her that sexy bedroom eyes.
"Hey," he said softly, his eyes softening as he looked at her, and Penelope's heart melted at the way he regarded her.
"Hey yourself," she purred at him, earning a raspy chuckle from the delicious man hunk.
"That was Morgan?" he asked.
Penelope nodded as Luke ran his hand on Pen' loose blonde curls.
"How is Dawson?" Luke asked, "I heard what happened. I hope she'salright?"
"I guess she is…" Penelope said with doubt in her voice.
Her unsaid emotion didn't escape the FBI agent. After all, Garcia was an open book to him. "Why the long face?" he asked with a hint of concern etched across the graceful plane of his face.
"I…" Penelope sighed, but Luke gently caressed the side of her face, silently encouraging her to speak her mind, "I think I haven't been such a good friend lately. I feel like I've been absent…" he expression turned somewhat naughty when she looked up at him, "…Partly because I've been so preoccupied by such an irresistible candy man," she teased him, her hand rested on his chest, making his heart skip a beat.
Luke smirked, his eyes heated as he gazed at her, "Oh I can tell how much you like my candy."
Penelope giggled, making Luke chuckle in return. He leaned closer, giving Penelope a long, heated kiss before speaking up. "You've always been taking care of everyone else, Penelope. I guess that's what I find sexy about you too. You deserve to be happy, too, love. And I hope, you've been happy with me."
There was an earnest, hopeful look in the way Alvez worded those words, as if making her happy was his top priority, which reminded her again of how Lynch never made her feel that way.
"Oh I have, sugar!" she reassured him. "You make me so disgustingly happy."
Another laugh escaped Luke. "Good," he murmured between his laugh, his hand gently brushing against her skin, making her shiver with pleasure, "I know I've been keeping you with me to myself for these past amazing week," he sighed to her neck before giving her a sweet kiss under her ear, "What do you say if you spend the day tomorrow with your friends, see how they're doing?" he whispered lowly, trailing kisses up to her jaw and to the side of her mouth, "…and when you miss me, give me a call?"
Their lips were caught in a slow, heated kiss that sent her body on fire again. Only between the fog of lust, could Penelope voiced her thought, "You're not jealous?"
At her question, Luke reluctantly had to pull his lips away from her beautiful skin. "With who, Agent Dawson?"
That got Penelope to laugh again, which made Luke smiled. He loved her laugh.
"No, silly boy. I meant Derek."
"Mm, no. I know you have a naturally dirty mouth with everyone. It's a surprise Strauss keeps you."
She laughed, hitting his ripped bicep playfully. "Luke!"
He smiled cheekily at her. "I know you and Morgan has a special connection, but I also know we also have something more special going on." As if to make his point, he climbed on top of her, letting her feel how she made him feel, "My love for you is not anxious."
Penelope wanted to cry at the amount of trust Luke was showing her.
"I love you too, Luke Alvez."
They kissed.
"Now, now, Penny girl. You've been busy taking care of others your whole life. Now I think," he said huskily, his hips began moving against hers in the most delicious way, "…I know a way to take care of you."
They made love.
Luke Alvez was perfect for Penelope Garcia–in every way possible.
*
[Author's Note: I'm sorry for the long update. I've been having to deal with cops due to a case at workplace. Unfortunately, Indonesia's law enforcement system is still heavily tainted with corruption and bribe. I'm hoping that someday, this nation will be free of corruption where all law enforcers are serving justice and justice alone. Like, vote or give kudos if you like this chapter, also like even when you don't like the chapter lolz.]