(Untitled)
Who: Emily, Open
What: Arrival
When: Day 49, late afternoon
Where: Main Street
( She had seen some dedicated unsubs during her time with the BAU but this was a whole new level of crazy. )
What: Arrival
When: Day 49, late afternoon
Where: Main Street
( She had seen some dedicated unsubs during her time with the BAU but this was a whole new level of crazy. )
Her grin faded right along with his though, replaced by a slightly bewildered expression. 'We' got relocated? Seventeen days? She gave her head a shake.
"Morgan...I just saw you three days ago. Hotch gave you some time off after...After L.A.," she said, softly, trying not to sound too doubtful or overly worried. Morgan was not usually one to be coddled after all.
She knew the case had been a difficult one for him, and some kind of coping mechanism would probably come into play while he sorted things out for himself, but this was worrisome. Even with their apparent abduction, such...well, she didn't want to use the term delusions but, such a reaction was an extreme.
She rested her hands on his arms in a gesture that mirrored the way he held onto hers, no sign of her previous teasing visible in her expression. Instead there was confusion and question and no small amount of concern. "Hey, tell me what happened, from the beginning. How did you get here?"
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He didn't do well with fear. Morgan recognized that everyone had fears. He recognized his own fears. None of that made any difference in him accepting them. His face screwed up with tense frustration. "Time off?" he asked incredulously, dropping his hold. "I was facing that son of a bitch one minute, sitting in front of West the next."
His mind ran through everything that had happened in Peaksville. God, he was going insane! How the hell could he explain turning into a kid, the Hulk, and going in heat? There was no way he could look Emily in the face and tell her any of this. He couldn't stand to think about any of it. Reid had seemed surreal but there was no denying Prentiss.
"How did you end up here?" he asked in a low voice with the same intense scowl on his face, folding his arms over his chest.
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So instead, she simply kept a careful eye on him, not saying anything at first, letting her own hands drop as his did. She gave a slight nod at his disbelieving question over the leave Hotch had all but forced on him, thinking his not remembering that was almost as troubling as his view of the time frame. Particularly the part where he insisted he had found himself here within moments of facing Flynn.
"Morgan," she said, keeping her voice calm, placing what she hoped was a calming hand on his arm. It was obvious that he was running something through in his head and she was willing to hazard the guess that none of it was good, but if they were going to figure this out, she needed to know exactly what was going on. She opened her mouth to say more but he cut her off, his question almost a carbon copy of her own unanswered one.
And it really was a good question. This time she let her hand drop, tossed a glance around them before letting her gaze return to his. She sighed, giving a tiny shrug. "I don't know," she said, honestly. "I was at home. And then I wasn't. I was sitting in front of West."
She couldn't ignore that particular similarity in both of their stories. It really had seemed as though everything had happened in less time than it took to blink.
She paused, thinking things through in her head, coming to the conclusion that maybe things would make more sense when (and if) he explained things. And she had an idea of where to start.
Blowing out a breath, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze on him more inquiring now, less dubious. "Seventeen days?"
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The sunglasses provided a shield for his eyes in more ways than one. He didn't know where to look. While he wanted to look at Prentiss, the moment was an eerie reminder of his life just before arriving in Peaksville. His mind couldn't think of where to begin.
He wanted to ask about Ellie but what could Emily possibly know about the little girl with only three days passing since... Derek couldn't think about Flynn for more than a second. The one memory brought so many back.
It was then that Morgan realized how little he had allowed himself to think about his past. That had been a bitter pill to swallow when he watched the DVDs. Everything had come back. And here was Emily. Not a trace of Deb to distract him. To escape with.
Maybe that was why they had connected the way they did. She was a way for him to forget as much as he was for her to forget. How the hell could be bitter with her? Especially after seeing snippets of her life.
Derek was back to believing this was all some insane nightmare. "Seventeen days ago, I popped up in this square after hearing from the pompous ass that I'm a figment of his imagination. The next day worked out the way he warned. I couldn't move more than fifteen yeards from someone else."
He crinkled his nose in a random sniff--something to do with his face other than scowl. It was only a brief pause as he thought of what else to divulge. "That didn't last long. Though I don't remember when exactly it ended. The boarding house we were all shacked in suddenly disappeared and we found ourselves out in the pouring rain with nothing but tents."
His arms tightened to where Derek was basically hugging himself. "I shared the tent with goddamn Captain Kirk and a detective from Miami who happens to have damn near my same name. Believe it or not, a worse mouth than mine. West found it entertaining to pair us up. We've got matching rings."
He finally unfolded his arms and held up his left hand, flicking his ring finger back and forth. The scowl had softened to a look of unamusement. His voice had started with a frustrated tone that transitioned to a tired one. Derek dropped his left hand and quickly ran his right hand over the top of his head.
Seventeen days and enough shit had happened to last a lifetime. He was finding it hard to explain it all to someone Morgan had thought he trusted with his life. "It's all just a crazy dream. Whether it's yours or mine. Hell, even West's. Who the hell knows. I'm just the sheriff."
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It was definitely a tale that deserved every syllable of the word fantastical. But it was obvious from the way he spoke, the way he held himself, that this was not just some story. Morgan was more than serious and for a moment, she could only stare at him, giving her head a soft shake.
This was insanity.
"So..." she began, but stopped when she didn't really have anywhere to go just yet. It was all still processing. "Jesus Christ, this is nuts."
Despite the fact that logic was screaming at her that what there had to be some, well, logical way of explaining everything, she believed him.
She glanced down at her left hand, eyeing the envelope holding that ridiculous tape and the key West had so eagerly given her. "I guess I really should keep this thing safe, then, huh?" she asked, still not entirely convinced that tape really held any power over her but thinking it would probably be best to dismiss it out of hand, just in case.. "And figure out where this key goes..."
She looked around again, taking in what she could see of the town. "Have you figured out just what is it he wants?" she asked, returning her gaze to his.
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He tensed when she pointed out the envelope. Considering everything that had gone on, Derek should have kept his envelope on him. Only in that moment did he realize how indifferent he had become after viewing the DVDs. Or maybe his subconscious was telling him that he still trusted Deb. They had a house together and his envelope remained in the same drawer as hers.
"Entertainment. That's all anyone's put together. The bastard told us himself yesterday. Only way people leave is by a tape burning. We don't find bodies." Derek rotated his shoulders, fighting the tension from them. "But people come back, from what I've been told. Just not with any memory of Peaksville."
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She caught Derek's shoulder roll, and her expression changed, her concern showing through once again. "Hey," she said, her voice softer now, no trace left of the belittling tone she'd used when referencing West. "How've you been holding up?"
Though she was still processing his claim of seventeen days to her three, one thing was for certain: It had been hard for her to wrap her head around everything he had just told her, she couldn't imagine having actually experienced it all.
"I mean, all of this, after Los Angeles?" She knew that case was a tender topic, and she approached it as delicately as she could, but no matter how lightly she tread, she knew it could result in an immediate shut down on his part. He was her friend though, so she had to try.
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Running was the best thing in the world for her, even if she'd found her running shoes tucked below everything else in her fucking closet. Debra Morgan had found the room she was meant to be sharing with her "husband", and she hadn't wanted to believe it. West was taking this whole thing too fucking far, and she had hid him with a fucking DVD.
Yes, running was good. Dressed in her borrowed boy's shorts and shirt, Debra went running, and she tore through the town, moving down one end of it from the other. She'd been looking for Derek after he hadn't responded to the post she'd made on the journal, and it bothered her that he probably hadn't fucking seen it. He was probably looking for her. He was probably looking for her right fucking now and they'd just been doing that dancing of assholes where they kept missing one another.
And then there he was, standing with a woman with dark hair and talking intensely. A fierce sensation of jealousy rose in her chest and she frowned before she went over to them and pressed her finger against the sunglasses she was wearing. "Who the fuck is this?" Deb hadn't meant to be rude, well, not really, but fuck her sideways if it just didn't fall the fuck out.
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Until he watched her DVD.
It wasn't as if he had a spotless record when it came to relationships. Hell, he didn't have any romantic relationships. Relations, yes. Plenty. Sex was among his top three outlets to relieve stress. Only in the past couple of years, had it moved down from the number one spot. Derek was getting older and reevaluating his life. Particularly when the no strings attached flings stopped taking his calls and found men willing to settle down.
Derek heard the footsteps approach and casually turned. There were monsters in Peaksville but none simply walked up to you. And thanks to Debra Morgan, everyone watching learned that the monsters could bleed. He turned and found it was the woman who made it all possible yet the sight didn't exactly bring a smile to his lips. His heart had yet to settle on a position though there was a sense of relief at seeing her.
And then she opened her mouth in typical Debra Morgan fashion.
The DVDs had been fairly accurate from what he knew of her in the weeks he had spent with her. While her mouth had never bothered him before, it was obvious he was less than thrilled with her introduction. But then, it wasn't her choice of words as it was her tone and physical aggressiveness that Derek had a problem with. Was Deb being possessive? She had some kind of nerve after what he had seen and shouldered in Peaksville.
However, he didn't return the act by asking if she finally found Frank Lundy (who eerily looked like a Frank he had watched die with a partner more his age than Debra Morgan). His jaw skewed and it was probably a good thing that he had his newly issued pair of sunglasses. Yet with his immediate displeasure aside, it didn't escape him that she was wearing his clothes. She managed to become a living example of his conflict.
"This is Emily Prentiss. Emily, Debra Morgan--the one with the matching last name and ring courtesy of West." His voice was matter of fact while there was a look of annoyance hidden in his poker face. The way he introduced Deb left his lips fluidly. While he trusted Prentiss, less information under the circumstances seemed to be the best way to go. He turned to Deb to finish the introduction. "Emily is part of my team and Peaksville's newest arrival."
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But instead of being insulted, which would be many people's first reaction, she was amused. Very amused. More at Morgan and his reaction than the Detective herself. She was a profiler, after all, and she wouldn't have been a very good one if she couldn't figure out what was most likely eating at the woman. It wouldn't be right to push her buttons.
Still, her amusement may have shown through just a little in her arched brow and the way she glanced from the Morgan, to the Detective and back.
For a moment, she wasn't sure if Morgan was going to introduce them or if she was going to be left to handle that herself, not that she would have minded. Finally, though, he spoke, and at his tone, she sent him another look, well acquainted with the signs that indicated this wasn't a happy Derek.
But it was a brief look, just a moment or two, and then she was looking back at the Detective, Debra, and smiling.
"Nice to meet you, Debra. Even if the circumstances are less than ideal." She nodded towards her teammate. "So, Morgan here was just giving me a rundown, and now that we know who the fuck everybody is, I gotta say I'm a little curious what is with West's law enforcement fetish."
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She knew that he was annoyed with her, and that only managed to make her back rise up a bit more. What the hell? He was annoyed with her when she'd just gotten out of the fucking cornfield after making a deal that she couldn't fucking remember. For all she knew she could be the next member of West's god damn chorus and right now there wasn't a god damn thing she could do about it.
The worry rose in her stomach, twisting and balling itself up and together. It cut into her like a vice and for a moment she didn't say anything. She couldn't. There was that and the fact that she knew that there was something on the DVD that she should remember. It made her insane for a moment before she got the part of the introductions.
'The one with the matching last name and ring courtesy of West.' It made her grimace. "The name's from my Dad, actually." She said it because she had to say something. Debra got that this Emily was a part of his team, and she didn't have any idea why it bothered her so fucking much.
"Yeah. Charmed." That biting tone again, but perhaps less of one. She was torn between attempting to needle Derek a bit more and the inclination not to fuck with him. "My guess is that he pictures himself as some god-damn-evil-mastermind with the whole fortress of fucking solitude and all the bullshit that goes with it."
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However, there was no maintaining his annoyance when Emily announced that now they all knew who the fuck everybody was. He didn't break the poker face but the tension eased up in his knit brow. This could go badly if Deb realized Prentiss was being facetious. And knowing Emily, she was probably trying to get him to calm down with her little joke.
Then Deb had to correct him about her last name.
Right. Debra Morgan wasn't the marrying kind. At least not to him. Nevermind that he wasn't exactly one either. The situation was volatile and apparently it was turning into Morgan vs Morgan. Or was it? Deb went on to answer Emily.
Derek clenched his teeth and swallowed whatever saliva had collected in his mouth, simply to do something before speaking. He ceased staring down Deb and panned over to Emily.
"It ain't just law enforcement. There are other people here. Doctors and..." He couldn't think what it was Dean did so he continued, "some others but a good deal of law enforcement. You could even put the good Captain under that umbrella."
His eyes panned back over to Deb as he suddenly decided to do a ring check. She had been in the cornfield after all. He had heard that deals could be made there. Had she already freed herself from him and that was what prompted the clarification of her last name? Nope. The band remained.
He mentally shrugged and went on to study Deb. There was something different. Derek couldn't figure out what. Had she seen his DVD, there was nothing she could find fault with. He didn't bother to ask. Knowing the Miami detective, they would all find out soon enough.
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Then Derek spoke up, and this time, Emily couldn't help but give him a funny look when he mentioned this Captain person for the second time. Morgan had never really seem the type for nicknames, especially if the person in question wasn't named Penelope. Sure, she'd gotten a teasing "Princess" or two but that had been the extent of it. Captain seemed too...trite.
She would ask him about that later.
"So...do-gooders in general? That's a pretty wide margaine," she said. "Doesn't seem like it'd be the best mix to throw together for entertainment."
As she had talked, she'd watched the two Morgan's as they surreptitiously studied one another. The whole thing still held the vaguest sense of amusement for her, but the tension hadn't eased very much as they'd been standing around talking. Maybe it'd be best if...
"Hey, do you two need to talk? I could, I don't know, go explore one of these stores or something." She hooked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the various storefronts that lined Main Street.
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Deep breaths, Morgan. It wasn't Emily's fault that shit was so weird. Too bad she wasn't buying that at the moment. She was just... god, she was just angry and wanted to punch things especially people's faces. She also saw the way that he'd looked at her finger. The ring was still there indeed. It hadn't even crossed her mind to make a deal to get out of wearing it, despite her aversion to it. Maybe she should have. Right now she didn't know.
"Dean could probably count as a do-gooder too. And then there's Gabe. He's a fucking angel. Allegedly." She'd met him as a kid, kids that little and that scared? She didn't think he was fucking lying to her, not at all. "Erik's not a do-gooder, right? Who else is there?" She didn't really remember, but trying to figure out this thing was easier than focusing on other things that she couldn't real.
When Emily asked if they needed a chance to talk, Debra shrugged and looked to Derek again. "I was fucking interrupting. I should get my ass out of here and let you two talk." Jealous. Oh, why so jealous, Deb?
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Derek didn't know a lot of people by name. He was happy with himself for remembering equal amount of men and women. Not that anyone knew what was going on in his mind. The sunglasses avoided eye contact with anyone. But then Prentiss went and basically told on him. He panned back to Deb as she replied. Oh, really?
"See you later," he agreed though his brow had furrowed deeper ever so slightly. Derek could have offered a time. It crossed his mind to tell her to have supper ready on the table. The thought was angry and spiteful but he didn't know why the hell it came to mind. He stared so hard at Deb that he had no idea what Emily was doing.
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So it was at least somewhat fortunate that she had a real live soap opera to distract herself with. Even if it was loosing amusement points with each passing moment.
She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes when Deb, in words far more colorful than usually warranted, more or less excused herself. Except, not really. And she actually did roll them when Morgan replied, dismissively, except, again, not really.
For the love of...She had graduated high school almost two decades ago and had no desire to revisit those years in any form. This was coming dangerously close.
"Right..." she said, drawing the word out as she cast a knowing look between them. "I'm just going to venture a guess here and say that you two have some serious shit--" she winced a little at that, Debra proving to be a not so great influence on her vocabulary. "Some serious issues to talk about. So you," she looked at the female Morgan. "Stay. I can talk to Morgan later. Really. And you," she looked at Morgan number two. "Stop being an ass. You're not nearly as good at it as you think you are."
And then she turned and walked toward the stores, giving her head a shake.
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