You all sure are convincing. It broke my heart to write the last chapter, but this chapter actually made me cry while writing. Thank you all so much, your support made this chapter happen. Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Not a Chance, Derek

The door opened with a bang as Derek Morgan stormed through his living room. Clooney, who had been napping on the couch, ran to greet his owner but shrunk away to sit in the corner when Morgan swept his arm across the kitchen table, knocking newspapers, files, and a coffee mug to the ground.

'I couldn't save him. I couldn't save any of them. 22 kids in two years, getting raped and drowned by that bastard. And he gets to live. He's going to jail, but he gets to live. And it's my fault. I couldn't save him. He was counting on me.'

Thoughts were racing angrily through his brain, and no matter what he did, he couldn't stop the tears from falling, nor could he stop his body from heading straight to the liquor cabinet. Shaking, he poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels, of which he had a bottle and a half left. He downed his glass quickly, filling it up again as quickly as before. He was still shaking.

'I know preferential offenders probably more than anyone else on the team. And I didn't profile him that way. Reid did. Reid. I can't believe I called him out like that. He's been trying so hard to hide his Dilaudid addiction; he's worked so hard to get clean… He was accusing me of being an alcoholic! What the hell… I have a drink now and then, I have a stressful job. I…' His thoughts trailed off, realizing he was doing exactly what Spencer thought.

The glass in his hand was suddenly shattered against the wall, whiskey spilling down the white paint. He cursed at himself, grabbing the two bottles of Jack and taking a swig from the one as he walked to his bedroom.

'What have I done? I've failed that little boy, and I've failed my best friend, possibly my only friend, I'm failing myself and I can't stop. I'm 37 years old and I'm living in a house by myself, with a dog that someone else is taking care of half the time. What do I have to show for my life?'

Finishing the last of the first bottle, Morgan went into his bathroom. Above the sink there was a large mirror, and Derek's bloodshot eyed reflection was staring at him accusingly. 'What do I have to show for it?' he thought as he sent his fist flying into the mirror. It cracked but the pieces didn't fall down. He punched it again, harder, and again, as hard as he could, pieces of glass stuck in his bleeding knuckles. Shards were falling down around his feet, and though he didn't remember when exactly he took his shoes and socks off, he could feel the glass penetrating his soles.

But still, the glass was coming down fast enough. He struck a piece that was still barely cracked and then pulled the pieces off with his hands, unconsciously crushing them in his fist. His palms started bleeding as he pulled down more and more of the mirror. He didn't want to see himself. He knew that the eyes staring back at him might as well have been the eyes of the 22 boys, just like him, that he couldn't save. He felt as if he was just letting Buford take advantage of him again, and just like that the pain was too overwhelming for him.

He leaned over the edge of his bathtub, turning the warm water on and watching it fill as he started drinking the second bottle.

Reid had made it to his apartment safely, but it didn't make him feel any better about the way events had transgressed that night. His whole body was shaking, his throat was tight, and despite his constant reminders to stay strong, he could feel tears rolling down his cheeks. You are just my coworker, and that's all. He made himself a pot of coffee, but the thought of drinking it made him sick to his stomach. He paced his apartment, opening and closing books without reading a word. That eidetic memory was making the scene in Derek's SUV replay over and over.

But what could he do? He knew Derek was in trouble, but he clearly didn't want his help. Spencer checked his cell phone over and over again, hoping for a call or a text that he knew he wasn't going to receive.

'Derek…'

Finally, he got up his courage. He loved Derek, probably more than a best friend should. And he cared about him enough to make the phone call.

"You've reached SSA Derek Morgan. I can't come to the phone right now…"

Spencer hung up the phone. It hadn't even rung. Derek's phone was never off. All the agents knew how important it was that they answer the phone, because a killer won't wait for anyone.

He tried his home phone. It was busy. Spencer's worry was increased exponentially. Finally, he grabbed his bag and jumped in his old Volvo, racing towards Morgan's house.

His car, though old, made it to Derek's in ten minutes flat. Spencer could hear Clooney barking from the driveway. He sprinted to the door, trying to kick it down, but that was usually Derek's job.

"Derek! Open the door!" he yelled. He grabbed the doorknob. It was unlocked. Even a genius can forgo common sense when under stress. Reid cautiously opened the door. Clooney was clearly in a great deal of stress, growling and whining at him. A large bag of dog food was opened on the floor in the kitchen, among debris. A dark stain was slipping slowly down the wall leading to a pile of glass. Aside from the dog's whining, the house was almost silent. A quiet beeping sound was coming from the side table in the living room: the house phone was off the hook. All of this was processed through Reid's brain in a matter of milliseconds. Even without Clooney, Reid was drawn to the master bedroom, where the Doberman was clawing at the bathroom door. This time, the door was locked.

"Morgan! Morgan open the door! Please! It's Spencer! Open the door! Damnit, open this door! Derek!"

Despite the wonderful near silence that was allowing Derek to finally rest, he was slightly conscious of a voice calling his name. But it didn't matter. He was floating. His lungs were burning under the water, but in his mind he was beyond feeling any pain. Nothing mattered. His pain from Buford was gone. His guilt of not saving those boys was gone. And his unrequited feelings for the only person he could honestly say he was in love with: gone. All that was left was the water in his ears, and the blackness slowly taking over. And suddenly, he heard a bang, and there was a rush of white light.

"Morgan! Morgan please wake up. Derek, don't leave me, please, wake up." Spencer was screaming himself hoarse. Clooney was trying to push his way into the bathroom, but Spencer kicked the door closed so that the dog wouldn't hurt himself on the glass. 'And there's so much of it…' The large mirror was barely there, and there were two empty bottles of Jack Daniel's on the ground.

Morgan wasn't breathing, but there was still a pulse. Reid performed CPR as best as he could, feeling terrible that as he made compressions, Morgan's naked body was getting pushed into the mirror on the floor. He pressed his lips to Morgan's begging him to breathe with every kiss. After what seemed like forever, Derek's body convulsed and water spilled out of his mouth and nose as he coughed.

"Oh my God. Derek. Thank you, God." Reid leaned back against the sink cabinets and breathed a deep sigh of relief. He pulled Morgan's body into his lap, rubbing his back to try and remove some of the glass. Morgan finally stopped coughing enough to speak.

"Pretty Boy? Is that you?" He groaned in pain. "Why-what are you doing here? Why'd you pull me out, man?"

"Why'd I pull you out? I got home and remembered you owed me a dollar, that's why." He reached over and grabbed a rag, wrapping it around Morgan's bloody right hand.

"Did you just make a joke?" A delirious Morgan asked. Reid rolled his eyes.

"God, even after nearly drowning, you're still drunk," he said. He leaned to the towel rack and pulled down a maroon towel, despite Morgan's wincing at the sudden movement. He threw it over the older man's naked body and wrapped it around his waist. "Will you cover yourself up? Did you want to be found naked, to add indecency to your…" 'Death,' he couldn't bring himself to say out loud. Luckily, Morgan cut him off.

"We both know that you like it…" he said, closing his eyes. His head went slack against Reid's chest.

"Morgan? Derek, stay with me!" Reid said, shaking him gently. Morgan groaned and clutched at Reid's soaking shirt.

"Why bother with me, Pretty Boy? You're so smart… You caught the UnSub today. I know better than anyone what those boys were going through, and I couldn't save them… I couldn't do it. I'll never know why you care about me. Why do you care? You're so much better… better than I am. You're so much stronger… Why did you save me? I'm not worthy enough for you."

There were tears leaking out of his eyes, and Reid found that there were tears coming from his too.

"That's what this is about? You can't save everyone, Morgan. You just can't. There's so much evil in this world, and we're the good guys that get to stop it. And you want to just take one more good thing from this world. From me. And as for being worthy enough, you should know by this point that you are my hero. But that's my curse. My father, Gideon, they were the ones I loved and they both abandoned me. But not you. You're not going to leave me. Not a chance, Derek. You're stuck with me."

Morgan was still crying. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I'm so, so sorry." He leaned his head against Spencer's shoulder and gazed up at him. Spencer leaned in, and kissed Derek chastely on the lips.

He pulled away, but Derek held onto his shirt and pulled him right back, deepening the kiss, making Spencer moan quietly into his mouth. Spencer could still taste the whiskey on his lips, but something was telling him that this wasn't a result of alcohol.

They pulled apart after a minute, catching their breath.

"I didn't think…" Spencer started, searching Derek's dark eyes.

Derek reached up with his bloody hand and brushed Spencer's hair away.

"You thought wrong…"

3 I'm in love with the scene playing out in my head right now. Next chapter starts Morgan's recovery, and a hefty side of slash (I couldn't give all to you at once, now could I? ;) )