Thank you so much to everyone who left a review on the last chapter, your kind words are much appreciated. The response was nothing short of fantastic, and as a thank you, here's another chapter!

A bit of Morgan-Prentiss interaction in this one... Hope it meets with all the Demily shippers' approval. Happy reading =)

"A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen." – Edward de Bono

It's funny how some things are forever tied to moments in your life. 'Baby girl' will forever be associated with Penelope thanks to Reid's inability to remember her actual name. Falling snow will always remind me of the time my father and I played football in early May with uncharacteristic snow falling around us and my mother screaming at us to come inside before we caught pneumonia.

But by far the most salient of these associations is the sound of clicks as high heels meet the floor. I associate this sound with the feeling of air disappearing from my lungs, my heart jumping to my throat, and a complete disbelief in what I thought was reality. But more than that, that sound, which I hear on a daily basis, reminds me of the moment Emily Prentiss walked back into my life, against all odds.

It's only been a few short weeks since that fateful day, but every time I hear high heels clicking on the floor I can't help but feel all of it all over again. I find myself sneaking a glance at the source of the noise, and more often than not seeking out Emily to reassure myself it wasn't all a dream and she is indeed back in my life.

But despite this desire to make sure she's really here, I'm doing everything in my power to avoid her. I steadfastly ignore the weak attempts by JJ and Rossi to help us reconcile, and I rebuff her efforts to sit down and hash it all out. I lock myself in my office, and when we do have to interact, it's strictly on a professional basis. Gone is the witty and flirtatious banter, the jokes and teasing, the ease with which we interacted. Now our relationship is strained, awkward, and full of unresolved tension.

I see the pain and guilt in her eyes with every brush off that I deliver, but despite the hurt I am causing her, I can't bring myself to stop. I know it's the very definition of an idiot, ass, and a jerk, but it's all overwhelming to me.

I'm just not sure exactly what I'm supposed to feel about her return – anger? relief? frustration? happiness? – they all seem so inadequate and don't fit the mess of emotions swirling in my mind and soul. Most days I'm furious with her. I can't quite wrap my head around what she did, what she let him do to her. I know it was all with the purpose of taking him down, but even with that in the picture, she still crossed a line.

But with every wave of anger and frustration at her actions and refusal to ask for help also comes a wave of relief at her return. The day she disappeared to go after Doyle is the day I lost a friend, a colleague, a partner… and maybe something more than that. Everything had always been so easy with her. Talking, interacting, working together. I understood her more than anyone else – or so I thought – and she was one of the few who had managed to peel back the layers and see the real Derek Morgan. We were as close as partners could be without crossing that line. The day she left us is the day I felt a permanent emptiness and ache settle into my soul. Life without Emily Prentiss had proved to be very painful. And so her return brought, along with the anger and frustration, feelings of inexplicable happiness and relief.

My late night musing is interrupted by the sound of none other than high heels clicking on the floor. I look up and find the very subject of my contemplation standing in front of me, an unreadable look on her face.

"I'm a bit busy, Prentiss-"

"We should talk," she says, interrupting my flimsy excuse.

"No," I start. "I don't have time right n-"

"Morgan, it's almost midnight. What are you doing that's so time-sensitive?"

I glare in response, "Prentiss, I told you I'm busy. I don't have time for-"

"For what? Me?"

I can't help but notice the tinge of despair in her tone, and it sends a jolt of regret straight to my heart.

I sigh heavily, "That's not what I meant."

We sit in silence, and I watch her while carefully avoiding eye contact, but taking in her fidgeting and heavily chewed fingers.

"You said you wanted to talk," I finally say with some frustration.

She lifts her head and I see her swallow largely as she meets my gaze.

"I was just waiting for you to explode," she explains in an uncharacteristically small voice.

"Wh-what?" I say in confusion.

"When you're angry, you stew and let whatever's bugging you fester, sometimes for days or weeks. But eventually you explode. I'm just waiting for that explosion."

"I- But- What makes you think I'm angry with you?"

"Derek," she says as her voice cracks with emotion. "You haven't said more than two words to me since I got back. You've been avoiding me. You're angry."

"Prentiss, I-"

"No, please Derek, just yell at me. Just get it out."

My eyes widen slightly with shock at her request. I'm reminded instantly of the time I broke the TV when I was 8. My mama stayed quiet and didn't yell or scream at me, instead just fixing me with an unreadable expression for what seemed like forever. I remember the fear that coursed through my veins, waiting for her to start yelling. The anticipation of it was worse than the actual yelling that finally followed.

"Please, Derek. I can't stand this tension anymore. Just yell at me. I deserve it."

I feel my heart break at her words. I stay silent, unable to form any words.

My silence seems to unnerve and upset her further, as tears begin filling her eyes. I'm taken aback by her breakdown – it's not something I've ever seen from her, not even when she was in the midst of dealing with Doyle, or dealing with the death of her childhood friend.

She continues staring at me, her eyes pleading with me, and for the first time I see just what I've done to her. She is broken, and trying hopelessly to repair the relationships she feels she broke. In this moment I feel I've let down my father more than any other moment in my life. He always told me to respect women and protect them, especially those you love.

"Emily, I'm so sorry," I finally say, breaking the uncomfortable and dangerous silence.

She shrugs and shifts on her feet a bit, "Don't be. I'm the one who should apologize."

"For what? Staying alive? Protecting us? Protecting Declan? Emily, those aren't things you should apologize for."

"I lied to everyone, brought my past into your lives, and nearly got you all killed. And then I made JJ and Hotch lie to you for months," she says as she turns around to hide her face from my gaze.

I watch as she wraps her arms around herself, seemingly to try and hold herself together, and hangs her head. The sight is too much for me and I find myself stepping in behind her and wrapping my arms around her. She tries to fight against my hold for just a moment before placing her hand on mine and grasping tightly.

I feel her body shudder as fresh tears make their way down her face, and I'm compelled to comfort her.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm right here. We're okay," I whisper to her softly as I gently let go of my hold on her and turn her around so she's facing me.

I gently push her chin up until her eyes meet mine, and I repeat the phrase.

"I'm right here, princess, and I'm not going anywhere. We're okay. You hear me?"

She nods and I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly. I'm pleased to feel her arms wrap around my neck, and her head settle onto my shoulder as though the space were designed for that very purpose. I move one hand up to gently hold her head, and feel her body melt into mine. We stay like that for a few minutes, no longer uncomfortable with the silence that permeates the room.

When we finally do break apart, she looks up at me shyly and says, "That's much better than our last hug."

I chuckle lightly, remembering the tentativeness of our last hug in the roundtable room after she'd appeared in the doorway.

"Definitely. C'mon. Let's get you home, princess."

As always, if you have the time, I'd love to hear your thoughts. And if there are any suggestions for specific conversations/moments, I'm certainly open to them :)