(Hey everyone! I'm really sorry for the delay on this chapter. I honestly didn't mean to be gone this long without an update, and certainly not where the last chapter left off. I'm very sorry, but I promise I'll attempt to do better from here on out. And the show has been inspiring my Morgan/Garcia vibe even more than usual lately, so hopefully that will help me keep things flowing. Thanks again for hanging in there and reading, I love hearing your comments! Of course, I still don't own them… don't I wish!)
Come Back to Me
Chapter Five
Penelope Garcia was freaking out; terrified in a way she'd never had to be for Morgan, who most of the time, in her mind at least, seemed nearly invincible. But now that bubble was burst. There was so much blood, and she didn't know what to do, how to stop it, how to help him. They'd shot him – twice – and he was lying in a growing pool of his own blood right here in front of her, because he was trying to protect her. And she couldn't do anything.
Tears were flowing down her cheeks as she started talking incoherently to him, desperate for a response, any sign of life. She whipped off her sweater and pressed it to the gut wound, trying to staunch the bleeding; oblivious to the fact that she was now wearing only a thin-strapped tank and shivering with shock and pure, cold fear. It was as though the criminals who'd done this, the other hostages, even the very world around her, wasn't even there, all she could focus on was trying to slow down the flow of blood pouring out of Derek's stomach. The fingers of her other hands slid sickeningly through blood as she pressed them to the place where his shoulder and neck seemed to merge, hoping to at least hamper the bleeding from that wound as well.
There were crashes and sounds of a SWAT team bursting in and subduing the inexperienced robbers; commotion, running, and shouting all around her, yet she sat and only saw Derek, as if she were in the midst of a fog that muffled and kept everything else at a distance. His beautiful, soulful eyes were closed and he hadn't spoken since he'd weakly spoken her name just as she reached his side. He was breathing, but it was fast and shallow, each one a struggle for him to get.
She could only keep pressure on his two injuries the best she could, whispering encouragement to him nonsensically and praying as fervently as she ever had for him to just hang in there; just stay with her a little longer.
And then, suddenly, a familiar, blessed voice broke through her fog – like a ray of hopeful sunlight through clouds. It was Reid, calling out with just that tiny hint of a squeak his voice got in it when he was either very excited or worried. "There they are guys! Over there!" he was saying, and then he was standing at her and Morgan's side, flagging the EMTs over and ditching his favorite sweater vest to take her shaking fingers from Morgan's neck wound and add the heavy cloth and his own pressure there.
Without knowing how she'd gotten there, Penelope realized JJ was now crouched on her other side, wrapping her up comfortingly, murmuring that help was there, but not pulling her away from Morgan until the EMTs made them back up so that they could work. Penelope knew she wouldn't have moved away from anyone or anything but the people who needed through to save Derek, even if JJ had asked, had tried to get her to. But it also meant a lot that her friend didn't even try, just crouched there with her, rubbing her back and holding onto her as she tried to hold onto Derek, smoothing her hair back with gentle hands, telling her that they were both going to be fine.
Finally, she did step back, when the EMTs went to life Morgan onto a body board, and then a stretcher, and into the ambulance waiting outside. It was only then that she felt just how much her own body was shaking and quivering, even as she refused to release that one last connection she still had to him, her clutch on his arm. There was no way she intended to be left behind and not ride to the hospital with him.
But then they were telling her to let go, saying no one but medical personnel as they needed room to work on him. Suddenly, Hotch was there somehow, gently but firmly prying her locked fingers away from his arm, telling her that she had to let them do their job. She turned unthinkingly into her boss's shoulder, crying blindly, dazed and not at all sure what was happening, other than that she just been separated from Morgan. Hotch simply stood there, steady and unmoving for a moment, sensing she needed the support, and JJ kept rubbing her back and whispering consolation as they wheeled Morgan away, swallowing him up in their frantic babble and desperate attempts to bring him back. She needed to go with him, stay there with him, talking, calling him back, holding on. What if she wasn't there and he just let go? She'd never get to talk to him again, to see his eyes crinkle up with laughter at something she'd said. She had to make sure that wherever he was, he didn't even think about giving up the fight. The alternative wasn't an option she could accept.
This couldn't be the way it was going to end for the two of them. Not here, not now, not like this. Not just when both of them were finally truly happy – maybe for the first time so truly at peace – in her life at least. But there was nothing she could do about it; the ambulance was already wheeling out of the lot with the man she considered her savior, her hope, her whole life, inside; leaving her behind. There was nothing she could do but follow and get back to him as soon as she could.
Hotch gingerly, and as tactfully as possible, handed her off to Reid, who looked acutely awkward and unsure of how to hold her or offer any comfort, but patted her shoulder and tried his best while JJ began steering them toward the exit and out into the crisp night air while Hotch and Prentiss began to help the local police get the scene and other victims back in order.
It had begun to snow as they stepped back outside; beautiful, pure white flakes pouring down out of the midnight blue sky. On any other night, or this night if things had gone as planned, it would have been gorgeous. Morgan had said it was going to snow, with a twinkle in his eye and the hint of excitement in his voice that made a sense of childlike glee apparent at the prospect of the first snow of the year.
She was grateful that the 911 had gone to the whole team, and that she wasn't standing here now, bereft, with no one to keep her moving. She hadn't been so mind-blankingly terrified since she was abducted. But even that was different, and not honestly as awful as this fear, that she could have everything wonderful she'd waited so long to have, the man she'd longed to hold in her arms, yanked away from her. Morgan could lose his life, and it would be all because he didn't want her to get hurt. She'd just had to run in there like an idiot…
JJ, as usual, seemed to know just what to do, and how to keep them together and on track. And Reid, whether he thought he knew how or not, was doing wonders just by holding onto her just as tight as she was holding onto him. He trembled a little and she was touched by the thought that he would be almost as devastated as she would if - Derek was like a brother to him, the closest thing to a casual buddy their young genius had ever had.
Once they got into the SUV and JJ put it in gear, and Garcia knew they were heading after Derek as quickly as possible, she managed to bring herself back under control a bit. She sat up straight, sniffling and wiping her eyes while she looked apologetically at Reid. "Sorry," she mumbled to him, "didn't mean to fall apart on ya there."
JJ merely scoffed from the front seat, throwing a tiny smile over her smile, in spite of the situation. "Oh, don't apologize, it's good for him."
Garcia snorted back a laugh, which felt good, even if it was somewhat beyond hysterical at that point.
Reid, in want of something to say, suddenly launched into encyclopedic mode. "Actually, it's good for you too. Did you know that your bodies production of tears releases…"
Garcia couldn't help tuning out again, even though she knew he was just trying to distract her, to cheer her up. But her mind couldn't seem to hold onto anything long enough to fully concentrate on it. All she wanted was Morgan; she wanted him right back beside her and she wasn't going to be able to focus on anything else until she saw him again. She wanted to know he was going to be alright. And she wanted to believe that he hadn't taken those bullets for her; that this wasn't all her fault.
But she knew that he had. She was as sickeningly certain of that as she was of anything else she knew about him. He'd do it again in a heartbeat for her – or for Reid or JJ or any of them. She loved him for it, even though she hated it too. That he would willingly sacrifice himself, and not even consider what a loss it would be to the rest of them.
It seemed like ages ago that the ambulance had sped away into the dark and that it was taking much too long to get to him. What if they were already too late? What if he'd lost too much blood? What if something in him had been too damaged for them to repair?
There were no answers, and at this point Garcia knew any assurances anyone gave her would be empty, purely hopeful, promises. She wouldn't ask her too younger friends to lie to her, even if she was desperate for good news and hope. All she could do was stare at her blood-stained hands clenched around Reid's hand in her lap, trying to stop their shaking. She was covered in Derek's blood, and just like that, she was crying again. What if she never got to tell him she loved him one more time?
