Chicago PD – Morning –

Morgan didn't trust Gordinski; chalk it up to their past but he couldn't let go of his childhood run-ins and his arrest eight years ago for murder. So he waited until morning to bring the letters in. He'd opened each letter all of them written by the same person and that person was sending him a message. He couldn't help but think that had his mother sent the letters to him he'd been able to prevent her death. According to the postmarks, the letters had been received at least a week before his mother's murder.

"How long have you had these, Derek?"

"I found them last night when I went to my mother's."

"And you're just now showing me?"

Gordinski was fuming he'd been more than patient with Derek, now he was hindering his investigation.

"Listen Derek, I know you're still holding the past against me but I can't solve this case if you're in the way."

"I hope you're not accusing me of something, Gordinski?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Derek! I'm doing everything I can to find your mother's killer but you've got to let me do my job!"

"Look at these letters; whoever sent them knows me and killed my mother because of me!"

"Who would do that, Derek?"

"Come on, man you know what I do for a living; it could be dozens of people!"

Morgan looked at the letter again; all the letters had the same message:

"We never understand the pain of others until we feel it for ourselves."

BAU Headquarters –

Garcia had invited Tara to her grief support group meeting tonight. She needed the distraction and if she couldn't be in Chicago to help Derek then helping someone else would keep her mind occupied. The young woman seemed so distraught and it troubled Garcia to see someone in so much pain. She was glad that the two had bumped into each other the last time she'd bumped into someone at that café had ended in her getting shot; Tara wasn't Baylor, she was just a young woman who seemed so lost and in need of a friend. Penelope wanted to be that friend. Garcia had a lot of work to do before focusing on helping Tara, the team had been asked to consult on a local case so she stood and headed to the conference room.

They looked at her with a million questions roaming in their eyes; she didn't know where to begin or if she should. They were all worried about Morgan and his sisters because they all knew how close they were to their mother. Their natural instinct was to fly to Chicago and get involved but they had not been invited and Cruz had already given them a stern warning to stay put and work the cases they were assigned. Still, it didn't ease the heaviness in their hearts for their friend.

Garcia was the last to enter the room and she quickly took her seat next to JJ who immediately took her hand under the table squeezing it tightly.

"Before we get started, I know our hearts and minds are with Morgan but we've been ordered not to get involved in this case." Hotch began.

"How can we not get involved, Aaron?" Rossi asked.

"We'll do what we can from here without getting in the way of the locals."

"When do we start?" Reid asked.

"We'll need to be discrete. If anyone finds out that we're involved we'll all be looking for jobs."

"Thanks, guys." Garcia said softly.

"Now let's get to work Baltimore PD has asked for our help on a case."

Chicago – Valentine Funeral Home – Afternoon –

Morgan pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. He was scheduled to meet his sisters there to make plans for their mother's services. He felt as if he were operating on autopilot and every motion seemed to be happening without thought. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to handle any of this; his sisters were devastated and he felt responsible for them still. He wanted to be that strong male helping them to cope but he was clueless on how he was supposed to do that. He'd been rough on Gordinski and he didn't hold back on how he felt about the man being in charge of his mother's case. He wanted to move on and forget about the past but something inside made him hold on for dear life to his childhood and the older man's role in the tragedies of those times. He couldn't help but think that life was playing some sort of cruel joke on him and he didn't know why.

Seeing his sisters, Morgan knew that they weren't doing much better than he was. It was obvious that they'd spent the night and morning crying. The three sat in the small stuffy office of the funeral director as he opened several brochures spreading them across his desk. Everything was a blur and nothing made sense.

The services were set for Friday; Fran Morgan had already written out her wishes to make things easier for her family when the time came. It was just like her never wanting them to fret over her and so as the three siblings sat solemnly around the aged wooden desk of Mr. Mark Valentine, Sarah unfolded the notepaper that she had found amongst her mother's papers and handed it across the desk.

Captain Gordinski had found his way down to the morgue his heart was heavy and the pit of his stomach churned as he looked down on the body of Fran Morgan. He wanted so much to rewind the past several days; in fact, if he had his way there were a lot of things he would have done differently. One was to not rush to judgment when it came to a young Derek Morgan and so many other boys like him. More than that he would not have cancelled his breakfast plans the day before if he had not been called away on an work emergency, Fran would still be alive.

No one knew and they'd both decided to keep their relationship a secret. Stan had run into her six months ago in the hospital where she worked and surprisingly the woman had been quite cordial. As he was checking on one of his officers, he found himself staring at the attractive woman and as she looked up from her charts she caught the man and she chuckled as his face grew a bright red. Immediately, she came over and chided him about it not being gentlemanly to stare if he wasn't going to ask a woman out for a cup of coffee. He laughed at her confident air he was speechless and relieved that she hadn't use the opportunity to remind him of his past sins.

Coffee turned into dinner and dinner turned into six months of quiet evenings, long walks on the riverfront and so much more. He loved the red headed woman who'd stolen his heart and breath in that first meeting and she held onto it gently and lovingly until someone brutally took her life. He had to find her killer not just for Derek and his sisters but he had to do it for himself. His heart was broken as he watched his future lying still and cold on the table; he didn't know how to say goodbye...saying goodbye to her was like saying goodbye to his own life. It was hard to breathe as he stood alone in the quiet room crying tears of sorrow and pain.

Quantico, VA. – Community Center – Evening –

She could hear the pain in his voice even though he was trying hard to hide it. He and the girls had made final arrangements for his mother and it had taken a lot out of him. She so wanted to be there with him. She kept him on the phone as she got out of the car and headed toward the entrance of the building.

"I'm here for you Derek, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know you are."

"The team and I will be there on Friday."

"Garcia…"

"Don't you even try to talk us out of it, Derek Morgan!"

He exhaled it was taking all he had to keep it together. He was happy they were coming; he needed them… he needed her.

"What time does your group start?"

Garcia glanced at her watch as she walked through the door.

"In about fifteen minutes."

"I miss you, Baby Girl."

"I miss you too, Handsome. Remember what I told you…first plane smoking."

"I remember…"

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Garcia?"

"Yes?"

"Tell the team I said, thanks."

"I will. Now, go try and get some rest."

Tara had arrived twenty minutes ago and had watched Penelope pull up in her orange caddy. Her new "friend" was on the phone; no doubt it was Derek Morgan that she was talking to. Her blood boiled at the mere thought of the man. She wondered who would grieve for him when he was gone? Tara had vowed to teach him how it felt to truly grieve for justice and for lost loved ones. She'd known both and before she killed him he would know too.

Tara checked her makeup in the rearview mirror then smiled as she brushed her fingers through her hair. Then, she opened the door, got out of the car and crossed the street.