A/N: I have been sick this week with a horrific headache that wouldn't let me write on the computer for more than a few minutes at a time before making me feel sick. Because of that, it has taken me an extrordinarily long amount of time to write this chapter and I profusely apologize for the horrible delay. I'm still not 100% better, so please expect further delays, although doubfully this long. Perhaps every other day instead of every day. Hopefully the chapter was worth the wait.
The room was crushingly silent, much like the weight of being underwater for too long and Angel longed for a cool, crisp, breath of air to draw deep into her aching lungs. Judging by the prickling sensation dancing madly across the back of her neck, the entire team was focused on her and Derek, but not nearly as focused as she was on Derek herself. Looking into his eyes, she knew something momentous was about to happen and with the way her gut was churning, she highly doubted it would turn out to be something she was going to like. An unwanted bomb of catastrophic proportions was about to be dropped on her – she could feel it, and it terrified her beyond belief.
Derek could see the stark fear in her eyes and in the trembling of her bottom lip, just before she captured it with a small nip of her teeth. Following his instincts, he reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear and then brought his hand over to rest gently on the side of her face, hoping to calm some of her nerves with his touch. His thumb swiped softly back and forth over her cheek, the repetitive and soothing motion beginning to work. Part of him wanted to be wrong, wanted to not have to be the one who was going to turn her life upside down. But another part him, the more selfish part, was experiencing a thrilling balancing act between trepidation and exhilaration that awoke something in him he thought long dead and gone. He'd found a fallen Angel, his fallen Angel, dropped back into his empty arms seemingly by God himself. There was no easy way to do this, so he'd have to settle for straightforward instead.
"Angel, you don't know because you can't remember something that never happened. Your past doesn't exist, you don't exist... at least not as Angelique Deville." She didn't believe him, he could see it on her face. She didn't want to believe him and who could blame her. If someone were to try and tell him he wasn't really Derek Morgan and that everything he'd thought to be true was all a lie, especially someone he'd known for less than 24 hours, he'd call them crazy and then call it a day. The difference was he knew that what he was saying was the truth, he could prove it, and he would. The only problem was his proof was not of who she wasn't, that would take time, but more of who she was – who he believed her to be.
"Morgan, it can't be. It's just not possible. She's dead, we saw it happen ourselves, damn it we buried her!" Emily exclaimed after immediately piecing together what he was saying, though it came out barely above a whisper. Her wide eyes looked from the pair in front of her to the rest of the team, where she saw her stunned disbelief mirrored on each of their faces. Out of all the things Morgan could have said, this wasn't even on the table for consideration.
"Tell me, what exactly did we see Prentiss? We buried an empty casket because we were told there wasn't enough of her left to bury. We were presented with a no-conceivable-way-to-survive accident scenario, that in our grief not one of us doubted or questioned for even a second. What if that's what they were counting on?" Derek challenged bitterly.
"Morgan, we had no reason to question anything. It was a gas explosion in her apartment. We left her place not ten minutes before. Whose remains would they be if not hers?" Rossi stated the obvious, but yet, part of him was beginning to doubt.
"Christ Rossi, just look at the abduction time line. We thought there was just a larger gap between the first and second victims, but what if there's not. Her birthday is July 7, she's 35, a redhead and she disappeared a year ago, and that matches right in line with the time gap and just way too much of a damn coincidence to share with Angel on top of her looks. I know I'm right. Damn it you guys stop looking at it like it's impossible and start looking at it with an open mind. Everything fits - she fits. I'm telling you, it's her! She's Penelope!" Derek declared with heated passion.
Angel threw her hands up to her ears and her eyes swept over everyone in absolute horror. "No. No! NO! Just stop it! Why would you say something like that to me! Just what kind of person are you? I'm sorry you lost your friend. And I'm sorry I look so much like her, but you can't use that to try and make me become her. I'm not her no matter how much you want me to be and no amount of lies will convince me otherwise!" She jumped up and pushed past the now standing Derek, heading straight for the door, but his steely, clipped words stopped her cold.
"Last year, you were shot and the bullet tore into your chest and ricocheted into your stomach before exiting, giving you two scars. Directly below the scar on your chest, you have a small birthmark in the shape of a heart and inside that heart, you had the initials D.M. tattooed just weeks after your shooting. You were angry with me the day you got shot and you nearly died on the operating table. You told me you got it done to prove that no matter how mad you were at me from that point forward, I'd only have to look at it to know without a doubt that I would always be forgiven and be forever in your heart, even if... even if you couldn't tell me yourself."
His voice now heavily layered with a multitude of emotions, faltered slightly with the last sentence. He had to swallow hard to gain some control before pushing ahead, but his words still came out slightly gruff. "Tell me I'm wrong Baby Girl and I'll gladly let you walk right out that door and never look back."