Chapter Twenty Six

I seriously meant to publish this yesterday, but as I was writing, my own Derek Morgan called, so there goes that (as in, my very close friend that said he loves me—TMI I know but there you are). We're back in France…..I had Pen go there because in s1e19 she says she speaks French, in case there was any confusion. Thanks for the reviews and alerts-they are always great motivators!

"Don't be frustrated, Penelope. You'll get your memories back soon. Just give it time." There it was. The mantra the nurses kept repeating in halted English, trying to soothe her, though it was unsuccessful for the most part. The sheer anguish Penelope felt at not being able to remember basically anything except her name and the state she was from couldn't be measured.

"How can you be so sure?" she sighed. Every day she had asked, but every day the answer had been mumbled and not very assured at all. It had been two weeks since she had partially emerged from the fog over her, yet she was no closer to grasping any sort of truth.

"You're not the only case of PTSD I've seen," the nurse replied as she began to take Penelope's vitals. So far, they'd always checked out okay, but this was a fact that did little to aid her uneasiness about her condition.

"Yeah, but have any been as bad as mine?" The nurse was silent, and the lack of a response spoke volumes.

"You know what helps me when I'm stressed? Watching TV. Want me to turn it on to the American channels we get?" Penelope rolled her eyes. How the HELL would that help? She shrugged nonchalantly, deciding not to voice her objections. The nurse grabbed the remote and flipped the power on.

"…We are urging this man to come forward…." There, on the screen, was a slight blonde woman, holding what looked like a sketch of a man. The woman looked….familiar, somehow, but Penelope couldn't place her at all.

"Stop here," she begged the nurse, hoping that if she watched for a few minutes, she would be able to figure out the identity of the woman.

"This is a national news broadcast in the States. Apparently there's been a man who's been killing throughout the whole country," the nurse explained. "Why would you want to watch this?"

"…..I-I can't explain, exactly. I just have this feeling that I knew the woman….." Penelope let her voice taper, hardly daring to believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. It was as though the world was somehow becoming clearer, even though she still didn't know who the woman was.

"I think she's with the FBI. Probably from the behavioral analysis unit; from what I hear, they're one of the best units in the world." The FBI? Why would she know anyone from the FBI? Penelope was instantly confused.

"Thank you for waiting. Now I can answer any questions you have." The woman nodded at someone in the crowd.

"Is it true that you are down an agent? Is it true that she ran away?" a voice piped out. The woman's face twisted in shock and sadness.

"Where did you hear this?" she asked, her brow furrowing, as though she was trying to keep herself under control.

"Word gets out. So, is it true? The FBI is missing an employee and you're out here giving a press conference?" The woman looked completely helpless, completely unsure of how to respond. Suddenly, someone pushed her aside and stood on the platform. The man now in front of the microphone seemed to spark something inside of Penelope.

He was dark, nearly the color of chocolate. Penelope could see his firm, toned biceps even through the 'snowy' TV screen. His face was creased with worry lines, his eyes were filled with a sadness and longing that went far beyond anything she'd ever seen before. He seemed lost somehow, so lost that not even his good looks and excellent physical condition could save him.

"I'm only going to say one thing about the missing agent before we get back to other questions pertinent to the capture of the Unsub. The agent…was not just an agent. She was a dear friend. A dear friend that went through unimaginable tragedies. Her disappearance had nothing to do with what we have here, that we are 100% sure of.

"If she could hear me right now, I'd tell her, with all these cameras here, that I love her and that I want her back. That she has nothing, absolutely nothing, to be ashamed of. I'd tell her that she means the world to me, that I'm incomplete with her not here. Baby Girl, if you're watching this right now, come back. Come back to me and I will tell you all of this for the rest of forever if you need me to."

"Wow. That agent has some issues. Why would he make that big announcement during a press conference about some wacko murderer?" the nurse tsked as she turned the TV off. She glanced at her patient, and was shocked to see that she was crying.

"That man…..I KNOW I've seen him before. I can feel it, right here in my heart," Penelope sobbed. "Do you think….do you think he was talking about me?"

"I wouldn't know," the nurse responded briskly, uncomfortable among all the tears. "I don't know Agent Derek Morgan at all. The only reason I know his name is because I'm rather interested in that murder investigation. Call me a fan, I guess."

Penelope closed her eyes. She'd seen that man. She had. She HAD…..WAIT! The lily. He was the man holding the lily in her dreams. The broken, bloodsoaked lily. Derek….Morgan….was the man holding the lily. But why? Why did he care so much for a flower?

Then it clicked. She was the lily. She was the one he loved. She was the one that was his world. Derek. Derek. The name kept flashing through her mind. And then a thought crossed through her mind.

"Do you think he's the father of my baby?" she asked. "Do you think I left because I was ashamed of my pregnancy?" It sounded a bit stupid to Penelope even as she spoke. Why would she go all the way to France when it sounded like this Derek fellow wanted her this much?

"We can get a paternity test, I suppose. It's a bit risky, but….."

"Do it," Penelope interrupted. "I need to know who the father is." The nurse sighed and ordered the necessary tests.

Later

Pain. Unimaginable pain. It coursed through Penelope's entire body. Her stomach felt like it was being ripped apart.

"Get the doctor, quick!" the nurse yelled, trying to stabilize her patient. "Why the hell are you so stubborn, Penelope? I bet you anything those tests hurt the baby." At her words, Penelope wailed with grief. The nurse bit her tongue, angry at herself for voicing her thoughts aloud.

A few hours later, Penelope was inconsolable. The tests had gone horribly wrong. Her baby…..her child…was gone. It hadn't been Derek's, anyway. Some guy named Kevin Lynch. Some dead guy's baby. Apparently…..he'd been charged with rape, assault, attempted murder shortly before his own death. It didn't take a genius to figure out who he'd raped.

"It was a bastard child," Penelope whispered to the air. "It was the son of a monster. It didn't really deserve to live anyway." She was in complete shock, closing in on herself. The world had abandoned her now. No one cared about her.

Derek. Maybe he cared. Maybe. She couldn't be sure that it was him in her dream, and that in his passionate speech to thousands of people, she didn't know that it was about her.

One thing she knew: she wasn't going to go back to Virginia to find out. She didn't care anymore, she just didn't care. Her baby, the one thing worth living for, was dead. Gone. Obliterated by her own dumbassed curiosity. For that, she hated herself, hated her life.

Quantico, right after the press conference

"Morgan, what was that about?" Hotch asked the younger agent. Derek turned to face him, grief etched into his face.

"Hotch, I need to find her. That seemed like an opportunity. You don't understand what I'm going through. Penelope is my everything. I don't care who hears it, I don't care if it costs me my job to say it. I can't live without her."

"You compromised the integrity of the Bureau. The director, as much as he is concerned about her disappearance, is not going to be happy."

"I don't give a damn about that, Hotch. I have to find her. No matter the cost."

"Derek, I know you do. But maybe you should brace yourself for the fact that she might not want to be found."

Back in France

Penelope could hear the doctor and nurse conversing. Even though they were doing so in hushed tones, she could make out every word.

"She's breaking down again."

"I know."

"Do you think she'll ever make it out of here? It seemed that she was getting close. Who knows? That agent, Derek Morgan, he might be the key to figuring this whole thing out."

"We can't take the risk. Having him come here could upset her more. She'd try to commit suicide for sure."

"So we just keep her here indefinitely?"

"Do we really have a choice? Until she can say for sure that the agent is a significant person in her life…..what else can we do?"

"Well, we can keep her on therapy until she figures her life out."

"How long do you think that will take?"

There was silence for a few minutes.

"It might be permanent. You might want to get used to the idea."

"How tragic, though. I mean, she's young. Forever is a long time to go without knowing who you are. I can't really think of anything worse."

"For you, perhaps, it would be the ultimate tragedy. Perhaps, though, for her….it is a blessing that she doesn't have her memories. Ignorance is bliss, you know?"

"I know. You're right, doctor. Penelope Garcia, whoever she is, will remain here indefinitely."

With this decision, they had, unknowingly, opened Pandora's box and unleashed hell.

Lives would be changed.

Tears would be shed.

Two lovers were destined to be lost from each other forever.

Fin.