He walked hand in hand with the little boy, leading him to the designated family room. These spaces in government buildings were generally reserved for, well— families who needed to be brought in for case related purposes. It was designed for comfort and distraction, but also stability and normalcy. The BAU had one. It was stocked with toys and a creative projects station, and it had both kid and adult-sized furniture. This one was no different (if not a tad bit nicer.)

Morgan pushed the door open wide, "Alright, Lil Ted. You and I get to hang out in here while Emily talks to her team. Okay?"

"Okay—" The little boy responded.

Immediately, the 5 year old took notice of a box of lego blocks in the corner and rushed over to it. Waiting for no one's permission, he pulled off the container's lid, dumped the bricks onto the floor and began to build. Derek raised his eyebrows in amusement, keeping a watchful eye on the boy as he himself settled on a nearby couch. For a good 20 minutes, the only thing that filled the room was the sound of clicking blocks, and the waterfall reminiscent noise they made when Teddy rummaged through them to find the right piece.

It didn't take long for Derek to preoccupy himself with his own tasks; using the quiet time to reply to a few emails, and read over some case work. When that grew tiresome, the man simply rested his head back a bit, shut his eyes and filled his mind with a review of the last week. And what a long week it had been. Last Monday felt like 2 years ago, and only the word "surreal" could describe how it felt that this was all coming to an end.

Certainly, not everything was going to end. He would still have his job, and Prentiss would still have her's. The two of them would still be together, but this case wouldn't be in the mix anymore. While he welcomed an end to the stress of having a target on their backs, Derek couldn't help but wonder what it would be like when Teddy was gone— when they were done playing house. What would be their new normal now that they'd essentially seen each other as parents? Had it even made a difference?

"Am I going home with my Dad?" Teddy's voice perked up.

"Yea, Ted. Pretty soon." Morgan mumbled, as he forced his eyes open. He was closer to falling asleep than he had realized.

The preschooler set down the contorted mound he'd built with blocks. His expression squishing with a little confusion and worry, "Where is his house?"

"In the United States." Morgan replied, "A state called Georgia. You heard of it?"

"No…" Teddy said, and then paused for a long while. He picked up his creation and fidgeted with it some more. As he did this, Morgan waited, anticipating that there was more to come. The boy frowned, his brain turning over the answers to his questions, and searching for new one's, "That's really, really far… is that really far?"

Morgan guessed that at some point the kid learned that the U.S. was not close, but he needed some confirmation of his own knowledge, "It is far, Teddy. It's an ocean away from here…"

"And then, are we gonna sail in a boat?" At this, his eye's lit up a bit, the thought of taking a ship across the sea seemed to excite his imagination.

"Actually, buddy, you're gonna fly in an airplane over the water, and when you land you'll be in your new hometown."

Just like that, the light drifted away,"Oh… I don't know if I want the aeroplane to take me away…"

Morgan noted the tone of his voice. His little British accent couldn't mask the disappoint, and especially not the trepidation. Admittedly, he couldn't quite pinpoint whether the 5 year old was scared of flying or scared of leaving behind everything he was familiar with. Then again, it could have very easily have been both. Regardless, it was important to him that he addressed it in some capacity.

"Hey," Derek said, sitting up from his laid back position so his elbows were resting on his knees,"Moving to a new place can be pretty scary— and sometimes, flying above the clouds can be, too. But your dad is a good man, and he'll be right there with you through every step of this."

"I'm not so scared, I'm just a little sad…" Teddy stated, almost a bit offended that Morgan had got it all wrong.

"Oh." Morgan breathed, awaiting the boy's truth, "Why are you sad?"

"I'm sad when I want to go home and when I remember I can't go home… and then I go somewhere else."

In that instant, it clicked for him. Teddy had had nightmares, he had tantrums, he frequently had the look of uncertainty behind his eyes, but for the majority of the time the partners had watched him, he wasn't able to fully articulate the emotions that motivated his experiences. Often, they had to coach him. Hence, why Morgan had taken a stab at his earlier response. But it seemed that he was finally finding the language, and this helped the profiler immensely.

Teddy was homesick. And no, that hadn't necessarily been a mystery, but it did seem consummate. Where it was once a thing that followed 30 feet behind him, now it took up residence inside him. From the moment he woke up this morning to the time that he arrived at the Interpol building, he was wading through it. There was nothing quite like a big, impending move to bring uneasy feelings to the surface so quickly.

Now, in the past, Morgan did his best to remind the little boy that home could be found within. However, there were times that it wasn't going to resonate, but rather fall flat. For one, the people that Teddy had grown up around— his family that raised him were all dead. On top of this, his childhood home was a wreckage. So, sentimentality could only do so much. No wonder he was sad. There was no sorrow quite as painful as knowing that one could never physically return to the place or physically touch and see the loved one's that made them feel like home ever again.

After a thought-filled pause, Derek drew in a deep breath, and with a sympathetic voice, he responded to the little boy, "You know my Momma always used to tell me— she used to say 'Derek, sometimes when you can't be courageous for yourself, you must then choose to be courageous for other people.' You know what courageous means, Ted?"

"Emmm… Is that like superheroes?" Teddy gave it an educated guess.

"Yea, you got it!" Derek exclaimed, pleasantly surprised by the kid's smarts,"It's the ability to face life's hardest things without running away from them. You jump right into the deep end without questioning how far down the water goes, you charge right into the darkness without knowing what's in there."

"Your Mum did that?"

Morgan chuckled,"Not exactly. But my Momma did have a lot of tough days, and on those days, her courage was coming from us and for us— her kids. We give each strength, Teddy. Just remember that you're never facing all this alone."

Teddy nodded, "I have you and Emily, but if— if I go to George, am I going to see you and Emily again?"

The 5 year old looked at the man in suspense, but being wholly unprepared, all Morgan could do was look back. Teddy had asked him a lot of questions over that past few days, but this was the one. This was the only one where he didn't know the answer, where he wouldn't receive one until later, and couldn't make one up. And for the most part, that was because the government always had its order of operations. Official paperwork had to be signed, case files had to be closed, legal guardianship had to be assumed, and boundaries would need to be set.

That said, Morgan was just as curious as Teddy for what the answer might be. At the BAU, sometimes victims who survived would write letters of gratitude, or family members would call and thank the team for their efforts. More often than not, however, once cases were closed, contact was unlikely. So, it could be that they heard from the little one every once in a while, or it could also be that they would never cross paths again. For the moment, the matter was not yet decided.

"How about we do some drawing." Morgan suggested abruptly and cheerily, choosing to completely skirt the question altogether.

The was no doubt that the boy deserved an answer, but he was too unsure and didn't want to hurt the kid's feelings by responding with what he didn't know. Teddy blinked vacantly, but then accepted the distraction. The preschooler pulled some white sheets of paper from the craft drawer, followed by a box of crayons. Then, relocating from the couch, Derek squatted onto a blue kid-sized chair across from Teddy. Once everything was set out, both boys hunched over and focused on their drawings.

The room washed over with quietness once more, and only soft scribbling noises were heard for a passage of time. A few times, Morgan glanced over to see what kind of progress Teddy was making. From a profiler's point of view, the confidence and decisiveness was astounding. From a caretaker's point of view, the creativity behind the boy's eyes warmed his heart to see. Whatever he was drawing was engaging his mind and lifting up his spirits.

After making some final marks and coloring in a few spaces, Teddy picked up his paper and handed it to Morgan,"I made this for you." He said.

Derek set down the waxy green utensil currently in his hand, and reached for the gift he was being given. Utterly groundbreaking, it was a photo of three stick figures. The stick arms of a bald, brown one and of a brunette one wrapped around the stick drawing of a little curly headed one. Not only this, but there were also some clouds, and in these clouds, floated some more stick figures. Only, these cloud figures had yellow halos and bird wings. Most importantly, above everyone was a chimneyed house drawn smack in the middle of a giant blue and green heart.

"You drew us." Morgan said, laying the paper flush against the table.

"Yea, I drew our family." Teddy said with a proud smile, then pointed to the scribbly heart, "And I remember you said I have building inside my heart."

The man smiled softly as that was the only response he could managed. The image was a perfect childlike delineation of belonging and found family. It told the world of what he'd lost, and showed awareness of what he gained. On top of this, what he said about it— how the little boy viewed the picture, unsuspectingly moved him. It was crazy to think that just last week Emily had to beg him to join her in caring for him, and now, here he was staring at a drawing full of smily stick figures, feeling overwhelmed with the specific value Teddy placed on it.

This wasn't even his own son and yet, he felt such a sense of pride over him. Most likely, because he reminded him of his younger self. Teddy had been through so much at a young age and still, he managed to choose a path of persistence. He felt privileged to have been on that path with him, to have been one of the two people that protected him and comforted him when he needed it most. And while it stomped every aspect of his professional objectivity to bits, he allowed this moment to be nothing more than what it was: incredibly heartwarming.

"Derek?" The little boy called his attention.

"Yea, Teddy?"

"Am I going to see you and Emily again?"

Once again, the question had found its way back into the room. It popped up like a Jack-in-the-Box who'd been unceremoniously stuffed back into his container, and because the lid hadn't been put on quite right, nothing could keep him from popping up again, and without warning. Except, this time, realizing how much an answer mattered to him, Morgan didn't have the heart to shut it down with another engaging family room activity. He had to give him his honest response.

"I hope so, buddy." The man admitted, and then reached out to tussle the kid's hair, "Why don't you try and work on a picture for Emily, huh?"

"Okay!" Teddy said, and then immediately picked up a crayon and began to draw on a new sheet of paper.

One thing that was amazing about kids this age was that everything mattered to them. The small things— even the temporary things that adults would often look over or dismiss, to a kid, it would mean the world. The same could be said for Teddy. It didn't matter that, in a week's time, he could be just as attached to his father as he'd been to the partners. Or that in a few months, he'd probably be fully adjusted and they would evaporate from his short term memory.

The initial separation would be a point of pain, but right now this moment is what meant the world to him. And it meant that much for Derek, too.