Disclaimer: I own nothing.

So, I found this in my files...I had forgotten to post it when I finished it. I'm hoping to wrap this one up soon because I'm getting sad just rereading some of these chapters :( Anyhow, I've been plotting my next M/G story and hopefully it won't be this sad. Angsty, yes; like this...no. Thank you for the reviews, and as always, PLEASE REVIEW AND ENJOY!

On another note, CeeCee333 and I have a joint account in which we have started a story together. The account is morganxgarciaxxx if you all are interested.

Penelope was cleaning up after dinner and Derek came in, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He settled his chin in the crook of her neck and kissed the skin there. "Hey, Baby Girl," he murmured. "You want any help cleaning up?"

She turned in his arms and shook her head. "No," she murmured. "I'm all done." She put her hands on his cheeks. "How did your talk with Tala go? I didn't get a chance to ask because you guys got back as we were sitting down for dinner. She was quiet, just like every night."

He planted a kiss on her forehead. "She took it...well, she took it like I expected she would," he said, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "It's not going to be easy for her, but she knows she's not alone."

Penelope's lower lip trembled and she rested her head against her husband's chest. "I hate that this happened to you...to Tala. It's not...it's just not fair. You really can't be good and keep yourself out of bad things' ways. Every time I think about what Buford did to you, or what Keith did to our baby, I just want to wring their filthy necks!"

Derek put a finger to her lips and shook his head. "I want you to calm down, Baby," he said. "We're going to bring Tala back. She'll get through this. I want you to know that she will. You're the biggest help to her anyone could ever be. She opens up to you more than anyone else." He tilted his head in the direction of the staircase. "I bet she would like to talk to you. You are the only person outside of therapy she'll talk to." He noticed as she glanced at the stairs as well. Stroking her cheek with his thumb, he nudged her in the direction of the stairs and said, "Go."

She nodded. "Okay," she said.

As she reached the top of the stairs, she went to Tala's door and knocked softly. Hearing her daughter's soft, "Come in," she opened the door and found Tala sitting on the floor, her back leaning against her bed and her eyes closed. The room was dimly lit and the soft sounds of Iron and Wine filled her ears. On her night table was a stick of lavender incense. Dr. Janson had recommended it to calm her while she was alone in her room.

Right then, she had removed her sweatshirt and her arms were entirely bare because she was wearing a plain white tank top. The thick white scars from when she had tried to commit suicide were clearly visible. They brought tears to Penelope's eyes every time she saw them. She didn't know if she would ever be able to keep the tears at bay when it came to Tala. Almost losing her had driven her maternal anxiety to unmentionable proportions.

The part that caught Penelope's attention about what she saw in front of her though, was the snapping of her the rubber bands against Tala's wrists. She was desperately trying to stay in control at the moment. The faster the snapping, the more anxious she was feeling. Penelope had taken to noticing the little things that gave away exactly how Tala was feeling.

"Hey, sweetie," she murmured, closing the door behind her. She sat down next to Tala and sighed internally as she kept her eyes closed and continued snapping the bands. "How you hanging in right now?" Tala kept up her routine, biting her bottom lip. She didn't say anything and Penelope touched her shoulder. "Baby Doll?"

Jumping, Tala's eyes snapped open and there were tears floating beneath her eye lids. Her motions stopped abruptly, but after a few seconds, she resumed her snapping. "Mom?" she whispered. "How did you find out about Dad? How could that happen to him?" Tears started rolling down her cheeks in soft trickles.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Penelope kissed the top of Tala's short haired head. "Oh, sweetheart," she said. "I know it's sad. But your dad survived it. And so will you."

Tala kept herself against Penelope and sniffled. "I hate that man, just like I hate Keith," she hissed. "They deserve to burn in hell."

"They do," Penelope murmured. "They absolutely do. And Carl Buford already is. And Keith will too...one day, anyway."

XXXXX

Derek was called into Strauss' office at eight in the morning, almost a minute after he entered his office. Rolling his eyes, he set his briefcase down and started for the Section Chief's office. He was not looking forward to the conversation that was about to come from Strauss. Since their encounter at his home all those months ago, they had an icy relationship. Derek's case load had been severely downgraded after his indefinite suspension ended after two months and she had given him as much paperwork as she possibly could. But after awhile Hotch convinced her that they needed him in the field.

That didn't change the fact that she was bitter towards him any time their paths crossed.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am," he said dryly as he walked into Strauss' office. He cocked a brow at her and waited expectantly for an answer.

Strauss looked up at him frostily. "Ah, Agent Morgan," she said. "I see you got my message." She gestured towards one of the seats in front of her desk. "Please...have a seat."

He glared at her, but he sat anyway. "What do you need me for?" he asked tiredly. "I think we have a case. I need to be there for the briefing."

Strauss sat back in her chair and folded her hands in front of her. She fixed him with a sharp look and said, "I know you have a case, but you can be briefed on the jet. This is more important."

"What is it?" he asked impatiently. "I -"

"Agent Morgan, just listen to me," she snapped. "I understand that the two of us are not getting along very well, but this is something you'll want to hear." She sighed. "You'll be interested to hear news regarding Keith Roberts."

Derek's interest peaked and his jaw clenched. "What about him?" he asked hardly.

"He's dead," she said bluntly. "He was killed in a prison fight. Stabbed to death."

Tala popped up into Derek's mind. Though she was talking to him again, she snapped her rubber bands against her wrists constantly. It unnerved him. He just wanted his daughter back. More than anything, he just wanted to see her smile again. He hated having nothing but pictures to remind him of how she looked when she was happy. His heart ached every time he saw her, her spirit obviously broken and her eyes lacking the light they once held.

Strauss sighed, breaking his thought process. "Agent Morgan, I hope this will put your mind at ease," she said stiffly. "And as Agent Hotchner would tell you all, you're wheels up in twenty minutes. I would get going to the airfield."

Derek rolled his eyes, unable to stop thinking she was a bitch. Some things never changed, though.

XXXXX

"Hey, Hot Stuff," Penelope chirped into her blue tooth as she was running around the kitchen. Lindy and Soraya were out with friends, leaving her and Tala alone in the house. In an attempt to get her out of her shell some more, Penelope had insisted on the two of them baking. When Tala had been little, maybe five or six, the two of them would bake all the time.

"Mama," Tala said, tugging on Penelope's skirt. "Did I do this right?" She pointed to the bowl of purple cake batter that was going into the cake for Lindy's second birthday. "I think I did, but I'm not sure."

Penelope looked into the mixing bowl and observed Tala's work. She clucked her tongue. "Use the whisk a little more, Baby," she said, kissing the top of her curly mahogany head. "See, you've still got some egg yolk in there."

Tala nodded and grinned. "Baking is fun, Mama! We should do this more."

"Baking can be our thing, how does that sound?" Penelope asked, stroking some of her daughter's hair back.

"Sounds great, Mama!" she said excitedly.

"You on your way out to the jet?" she asked, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, but eventually he murmured, "Yeah."

She halted what she was doing and asked, "What's up? You sound...off." He was still silent. "Okay, Derek, you're really worrying me. What's going on?"

"Baby, it's Keith," he said. "He - he was killed in prison."

Penelope halted what she was doing immediately and her mouth dropped open. As she did, Tala reentered the kitchen, snapping her rubber bands the entire time, a grim expression on her face. When she saw Penelope's face, she tilted her head to the side and cocked an eyebrow, a feature highly reminiscent of her father.

"So...it's over?" she breathed in a raspy voice.

"It's over," he said quietly. "Are you gonna tell Tala?"

Biting her lip, Penelope nodded tearfully, even though there was no one she was nodding at. "Yeah," she whispered. "Yeah, I am. I'm gonna go, okay?"

"I love you," he said. "Tell the girls I love them, too."

"I will." Pushing the "off" button on her blue tooth, she turned to Tala and wiped some of her tears from her cheeks. "Hey, Baby."

Tala leaned against the counter and looked at her mother curiously. "What's going on?" she asked cautiously. "You're crying. Is everything okay?"

Penelope walked towards Tala and pulled her into a tight hug, almost squishing her ribs. "Everything's perfect," she said against Tala's hair. She pulled back and touched her daughter's cheek. "Oh, baby..."

Looking at Penelope with an utterly confused look, Tala shook her head. "Alright, I give up," she said. "What's going on? I'm not getting what you're trying to say."

"It's Keith," she said. "He was killed in prison." Tears rolled down her cheeks in streams and she sniffled. But she wasn't sad. She wasn't sad at all. The tears she was shedding were ones of happiness. This might very well be a stepping stone for Tala to return to her former identity. "It's over, Tala."

Tala's face was blank at first, but tears filled her eyes and she hugged Penelope tightly to her. "No," she whispered. "It's just starting."

But she didn't mean the pain; she meant the healing.