Hey guys. Two chapters in one day. Crazy, I know.

This chapter was going to called Let It Go for like two seconds lol.

Also, does anyone want to make a book cover for this story?

Enjoy.

Let It End

Dylan bursts through the door wiping his face. The seven year old's Superman backpack rattles at he runs up the stairs.

"Dylan!" Emily calls up the stairs as she enters the house.

Derek comes in behind Emily and closes the door before he sits on the stairs and changes into his running sneakers.

"No. No, Derek, you are not leaving," Emily commands as she stands in front of him.

"Emily."

"No. We need to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Your son is devastated, Derek."

"He'll get over it. He's seven; he'll be on to the next thing in a couple days."

"Well, that's just great. You want to go up there and tell him that what he wants and what he's feeling right now doesn't matter because he's going to be on to something else soon?"

"He's too young, Emily," Derek stated simply.

Emily sighs. "I'm going to go upstairs and talk to my son. You better still be here when I come back or so help me god, Derek."

Emily doesn't wait for an answer from Derek before she goes up the stairs. Emily touches the closed door with superhero and car stickers arranged around Dylan's name before she turns the knob and pokes her head into the room.

"Honey, can I come in?"

"Yes." Dylan says through sniffles.

The female agent walks into the room and sits on Dylan's bed. Dylan changes position so his head is in his mother's lap. Emily runs her fingers through her son's hair as he continues to sniffle.

"Why is Dad mad at me? I thought he would like it. Last time we visited Aunt Sarah, she showed me videos, and it was so cool, Mama."

"He's not mad at you, sweetie. He's just afraid."

"No, he's not. He's not scared of anything."

"There's some things that scare your father. Being human means having fears. Your dad has them, I have them, even Uncle Hotch has them," Emily says the last part scandalously and with a smile.

"Like what?"

"Well, Dad and I are always a little scared every time we leave for work because we don't want something to happen to you. And when I was your age, I was scared of thunderstorms."

"But you love them. We always sit and drink milk or hot chocolate and watch them together."

"Some times you outgrow your fears, and you even learn to love them."

The two sit in silence as Emily continues to comb her son's hair with her fingers.

"Honey, you know you don't have to play because your dad played, right?"

Dylan sits up from his mother's lap and sits next to her.

"It was cool, Mama," Dylan said excitedly. "I want to try. Aunt Sarah was teaching me all about it."

Emily smiles at her son. "Okay, honey, I'll talk to Dad, okay?" Emily kisses her son's forehead. "I'll be back." Emily leaves Dylan's room.

Emily goes down the stairs and looks around. She doesn't see her husband.

"Derek?" Emily calls. She really hopes he didn't run from this. Emily didn't know what she would do.

"Yeah?" Derek stands in the doorway to the den.

"Let's talk," Emily takes his hand and walks to the couch. She sits and pulls him down on the couch next to her. "He really wants to play, Derek."

"You know why he can't, Emily. He's younger than I was."

"Everyone is not Carl Buford," Emily says softly.

"I can't let that happen to him. I'm not around as much as I should and if someone gets to DJ the way Buford got to me, I would never forgive myself, Emily, I couldn't."

"You changed your life, Derek. You took control of it and you didn't let him win. If you forbid DJ from even trying, you give him control over your son's life. Let it end with you. Don't let what he did take your son's life from him."

Derek nods and pulls Emily into his chest with a sigh. Emily wraps her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest.

"Where is this even coming from? He never seemed too interested in football before."

"Apparently, when we took him on our last case in Chicago, Sarah showed him videos of you playing and taught him a little of the game."

"Of course she did." Derek rubbed up and down Emily's arm as he pulled her closer. "I want background checks on all the coaches and volunteers."

"You know who to call for that."

"And I want to talk to at least some of the parents and kids that they played with."

"As long as you don't go overboard. We don't need him to be the kid with the crazy father."

"I'll go up and tell him then," Derek says sitting up from the couch.

"I'll get dinner started," Emily says as she stands from the couch.

"Just order a pizza. It's been a long day and it will make DJ happy."

"Ah, buying his love back with pizza." Emily kisses her husband. "I love you," she says when they pull away.

"Love you too. I'm going to go talk to the kid."

Morgan takes the stairs two at a time and stops at his sons door. Derek knocks on the door and pokes his head in. "Hey, little man, can I come in?" Derek asks his son, who is reading a book on his bed.

"Yes," Dylan answers as he closes his book and places it on the bed.

Morgan sits next to his son on the bed. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"Mama said you were scared."

"Yeah, I was. I just don't want anything bad to happen to you, buddy."

"But you played and nothing bad happened."

"I don't want you to get hurt. So, Mama and I talked and she says you really want to play so we're going to make it happen."

"Yes!" Dylan said with a jump off his bed and a fist pump.

"But, listen, there's something important I want you to always remember."

Dylan stopped jumping around. His Dad was using that voice he uses when he teaches him the safety drill for the house. He was serious. "Okay."

"If anything happens, if you're hurt, or something makes you uncomfortable, or someone makes you uncomfortable, if anything doesn't feel right or comfortable I want you to tell me or Mama. Or Uncle Hotch, or Rossi, or Reid, or JJ, or Garcia. No matter what. You can tell us anything, Dylan, okay? Even if you think we'll be mad or upset with you. Do you understand me?"

Dylan nods.

"You have to say it, kid."

"I understand, Daddy."

"Good. Come here," Derek pulls his son in for a hug. "I love you, little man."

"I love you, too."

"Alright, little man, let's get downstairs. The pizza should be here any minute."

Dylan runs out of the room. "Mama, I'm going to play football!" Dylan announces as he makes his way downstairs.

Derek chuckles at his son and follows him out of the room.

Okay, so we've reached the end of this one.

As always: tell me what you think? Questions, comments, concerns, ideas. I want to hear it all.

If you want to be awesome and make a book cover for this story for me let me know.

Thanks.

TVCrazed.