The sound of voices and keyboards echoed in the BAU bullpen as Derek Morgan strode in, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He exhaled deeply, relief washing over him as he stepped into the familiar space after an intense case. This was home—a place where he could focus on the job and shut out the rest of the world.

"Derek!" Penelope Garcia called out from across the room, her bright smile cutting through the haze of his exhaustion.

He smiled back. "Hey, Baby Girl. Don't tell me you missed me already."

"You know, I always do," she quipped, but her grin widened. "Glad you're back. Hotch has been cryptic all day about some 'new addition.' You've got competition in the charm department."

"Competition?" Derek laughed. "Not possible."

Garcia winked. "We'll see."

As Derek set his bag down, something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

She was sitting at the desk across from his, her dark hair pulled back, her head bent over a file. She wore a sleek black blazer, and the sharp angle of her jawline was as familiar as it was devastating.

Emily.

Derek froze, his heart hammering. He blinked, certain his mind was playing tricks on him. It had been years since he'd last seen her, but there was no mistaking her.

The woman he had loved, who had disappeared without a trace, was sitting there as if nothing had happened.

The room tilted slightly, the noise of the bullpen fading into a dull hum. Derek's grip on the strap of his bag tightened as he forced himself to take a steadying breath. Before anyone could notice his reaction, he turned sharply and walked out of the bullpen.

Emily felt the shift in the atmosphere before she saw him. She looked up, her breath catching as her eyes locked onto Derek Morgan.

He was just as she remembered—broad shoulders, confident stance, those piercing eyes that had always seen right through her. But the expression on his face now was one of pure shock, quickly masked by anger and pain.

Before she could say anything, he was gone, striding out of the bullpen without a word.

"Emily Prentiss?"

Emily turned to see Aaron Hotchner standing nearby, his neutral expression giving away nothing.

"Yes," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.

"Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. Welcome to the team."

Emily extended her hand, grateful for the distraction. "It's an honor to be here."

"Have you met the others yet?" Hotch asked, nodding toward the bullpen.

"Not officially," she replied, glancing back toward the desk Derek had vacated.

Hotch's brow furrowed. "That's Morgan's desk. He's usually… more welcoming. I'm sure he'll come around."

Emily forced a smile, biting back the bitter laugh that threatened to escape. "I'm sure he will."

Outside, Derek leaned against the wall, sucking in deep breaths of the crisp autumn air. His mind raced, memories flooding back unbidden.

Emily laughing as she teased him about his playlist. Emily curled up next to him in bed, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. Emily promising she would always come back to him.

And then… nothing. The empty apartment. The unanswered calls. The gut-wrenching realization that she was gone.

"Morgan?"

He turned to see Spencer Reid approaching, his brows knit in concern.

"You okay? You bolted out of there like you saw a ghost."

Derek let out a harsh laugh. "Yeah, something like that."

Reid tilted his head, studying him. "The new agent—Emily Prentiss. Do you know her?"

Derek hesitated, the question hitting him like a punch to the gut. "I thought I did," he muttered. "A long time ago."

Reid frowned but didn't press further. "Hotch wants us back inside. We've got a briefing in ten."

Derek nodded, straightening. "I'll be there."

Back inside, the team gathered in the conference room. Derek kept his gaze fixed on the file in front of him, refusing to look at Emily.

Hotch introduced her to the group. "Emily Prentiss comes to us from the Chicago field office. She has extensive experience with undercover work and profiling. I trust you'll all make her feel welcome."

JJ smiled warmly. "Welcome to the BAU, Emily."

"Thanks," Emily replied, her voice steady.

Even as the others introduced themselves, Derek said nothing, his silence speaking volumes.

As the meeting concluded and the team dispersed, Penelope sidled up to Derek. "Alright, Hot Chocolate, spill. You've been acting weird ever since you got back."

"I'm fine, baby girl," he said curtly, his tone sharper than he intended.

She raised an eyebrow. "Sure you are. And I'm the Queen of England."

Derek forced a grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Just tired. Long case."

Penelope didn't look convinced but let it go—for now.

Later in that afternoon, Emily found herself in the kitchen, fixing a cup of black coffee in the breakroom. She jumped slightly when Derek walked in, his presence filling the small space.

He didn't say a word, didn't even look at her as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Derek," she began, her voice soft.

He stiffened but didn't turn around.

"I didn't know you were here," she continued, her words faltering under the weight of his silence. "If I had—"

"What?" he interrupted, his voice low and laced with bitterness. "You wouldn't have come?"

Emily swallowed hard. "I would've handled it differently."

Derek finally turned to face her, his eyes dark with anger. "Handled it differently? Like how you handled leaving? Disappearing without a word, without a damn explanation?"

Her chest tightened, the pain in his voice cutting deeper than she expected. "It wasn't that simple."

"It never is with you, is it?" he snapped, his voice rising. "You walked out of my life like I meant nothing to you. And now, what? You're back, acting like it's all fine?"

"I didn't have a choice, Derek," she said, her own voice trembling. "I—"

"No," he interrupted. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to come back and act like we're fine. We're not fine, Emily."

Before she could respond, he stormed out, leaving her alone in the silence.