Aftermath

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

This is Morgan's chapter. Again for a character I normally love written he was not co-operative in writing this – hope it comes across well in the final edit.

. . .

Derek scanned the scene. Standing on the spot and rotating round his eyes narrowed as he pictured what this mess was to become. Beneath all the dust and debris he could see the potential; it was what had drawn him to the property. This house had once been a home but for some unfortunate reason it had become run down and unkempt. Derek was enthusiastic to return it to its glory, but finishing his previous project had needed to take priority. Now he was free to start on this transformation.

Letting out a huge sigh Derek contemplated where he would start. He took pride in breathing life back into dilapidated properties but this could well be his biggest project to date; though no-one could ever accuse Derek of stepping away from a challenge he was starting to wonder if he had bitten off more than he could chew. However this was just what he needed right now, a channel for his energies and emotions. For once the timing was perfect.

Stepping up to the cracked wall, Derek checked once more that he was correct in his assessment. Running his hand over the rough plaster work and peeling wallpaper. Scanning and examining it he was certain, purely a partitioning wall and not anything structural. This was his starting point. Tearing down the unwanted wall, clearing the rubble and making way to start a fresh would be his therapy for today.

Swigging the last of his coffee down Derek threw the coffee shop disposable onto a nearby pile of rubbish and lifted the sledge hammer. His body barely registered the reverberations of the impact as the pre-existing cracks splintered outwards from the hammer head. Instantly he swung another blow, sensing the bricks begin to move he aimed again, hit after hit. His body absorbed the shockwaves as the wall gave way to his assault. Slowly bricks fell as he chipped away at it –determination driving him on. Aiming high, he worked solidly as the divide gave way to his efforts.

. . .

Leaning on the handle of the sledge hammer that was now planted firmly on the floor, Derek paused. Sweat soaked his grey t-shirt from the morning's hard work. He had needed to stop periodically to clear the way for the next level of falling rubble. This was the last of it. The wall was no more, but the mess was ten times worse.

Peeling off his t-shirt, Derek wiped himself down with the soggy fabric before searching round for another bottle of water. He ached, and that was putting it mildly. He was using combinations of muscles that no amount of pumping iron could prepare him for. Derek was well aware he would pay the price over the next few days, but it would be worth it in the long run.

Glugging the cool water down he found a spot to rest, building back up his energy ready to start the clear out of the piles of brick, plaster and associated debris. Immersed in the silence and stillness his mind soon began to wander, back to the images he was working hard to avoid. Screwing his eyes shut, he tried to push them back to the depths. He didn't want to think about what had happened. That they had failed. That he had failed. They had all let Hotch down, in a way that could not be forgotten. Already Derek had repeatedly scolded himself for being too late. That he should have made a decision quicker. That he could have done things differently and this would have lead to the team getting there in time. It had been his call; he had been in charge and failed.

And that failure had caused Haley's death.

Shaking his head he tried not to think about seeing her body laying there. There was no way he would have even tried to stop Hotch from cradling her lifeless body in his arms. Stuff procedure – this had been all too real. It was pain at its rawest. Hell, he had pulled Hotch off of the Reaper, the man he had just killed with his bare hands. To be honest had Hotch not done it he, or one of the team, would have been quick to finish him. Derek believed strongly in the justice system, but cool rationality had all but left them when they had heard the gunshot. Focus had gone, yet senses had sharpened at the same time. Haley's death had spurred them all into overdrive.

They had failed to save her, they had to save Jack.

Letting out a huge sigh Derek reined his thoughts in. The small boy, had been wide eyed and fearful, confused by all the people suddenly invading his house. The home he had not been able to live in for months. Suddenly crawling with men and women in forensic suits, police with guns and of course the whole team looking like they had been to hell and back.

Derek knew life with only one parent, the highs and lows that it brought. He knew how it felt to have lost a parent at a young age, especially in such dramatic circumstances. The only saving grace was that Jack was spared witnessing the travesty. Even thirty years on he could remember the moment his Dad was shot as if it was only yesterday. The horror unfolding in front of his eyes now just as it had done then.

Drawing his hands down over his face, he rubbed his stubble, trying to focus back on the project in hand. He had hoped the hard work would help him to leave the whole incident behind him, but he should have known the only way through this was to process what had happened.

Pushing off the surface he leant against Derek finished the bottle of water and headed towards the pile of rubble, sitting about and thinking was not getting him anywhere. Grabbing a fresh t-shirt from his bag and a pair of gloves he soon got started with the next stage of the project, clearing space to make the improvements this place needed.