[Trigger Warning: Mention of suicide.]

***

[Elizabeth’s Point of View]

My feet protested as they dug into the snow. Icy cold air burned my lungs; I could see my breath fogging before my eyes as I panted for oxygen. My heart pounded in my chest with fright. Running away seemed to be my default–both literally and figuratively–until a pair of strong arms intercepted me.

I screamed.

I trashed within his grasp, desperate to free myself. I punched blindly, kicked–anything to get away from him.

“Baby!” his voice was off. “Elizabeth!”

My eyes propped open, startled. Derek’s chocolate eyes trained on me; alert and wary. That was when I realized that I had been dreaming and tried to punch him on the face in my sleep. Realization began to sink in as the remaining of my slumbers left me.

“Derek…” I sighed in both relief and guilt, “…I’m so sorry.”

His firm hold on my wrists loosened. Had Derek was not an avid fighter himself, there was a chance that I would’ve hurt him.

The handsome agent carefully brought my hands down to rest on top of my stomach. Brushing my sweat-drenched hair back, he then planted a sweet kiss on my temple. “It’s okay, baby. It’s just a nightmare, sweetheart.”

I let myself melted in his welcoming embrace.

“You’re still shaking,” he murmured, rubbing my arm as if trying to warm me up. As if he knew the deathly cold that was in my dream.

“Scoot over,” he said knowingly.

I happily did what he asked, scooting my weight in the small hospital bed while being careful not to disturb the IV attached to my arm, or the injury on my right leg and my ribs. As soon as I gave him the space he needed, he carefully climbed next to me, wrapping his left arm around my shoulders and pulling me close to his chest.

The warmth that radiated off of his sturdy form and the close proximity between us brought the solace that I needed. Soon I found my breathing normalize. Inhaling his comforting Derek scent, I began to close my eyes again when he started speaking softly.

“It must be very frightening for you.”

I hummed. “Dying?”

A soft but bitter scoff escaped Derek. “Yeah, that too.”

I shook my head. “Mm, no. It wasn’t.”

Derek pulled his chin away from on top of my head to look at me questioningly. I explained myself. “It was peaceful, actually,” I said with a hint of smile on my face, remembering my hypothermic hallucinations that led to my cardiac arrest a few days ago before the medics brought me back to the land of the living. “Blissful, even.”

There was a mild surprise on his face as he stared at my face. I smiled softly at him, not realizing that I was giving him quite a reverent look as I reminisced my near death experience. “You were there.”

There was a conflicted look in his kind eyes as he gazed at me. “Really? Can you tell me, hm?”

“You saved me,” I said, smiling to the fact that while I had been hallucinating about him saving me, he had actually been trying to save me from certain death in real time. “Then you gave me your coat and a very, very warm hug.”

I had never seen such gentleness in both Derek’s eyes and smile as he listened to my story. It was almost as if he was hanging upon every words I said. I continued.

“Then you led me somewhere safe. You made me a…” I sighed at the sweet memory, “…a mug of the warmest, most delicious hot cocoa in the world with little white marshmallows on top. Then, to top that off, you put the warmest, thickest blanket on top of me,” I finished, leaving the kissing part out of my story. “You have always been my hero.”

I thought the last part would add a boost to Derek's usually big ego. But instead, while he was still giving me his handsome, easy smile in response–his eyes, I realized, held some kind of sadness behind them; the kind that I noticed hadn’t left his chocolate eyes ever since I woke up.

I looked at him questioningly; my heart ached a bit at seeing Derek’s expression. “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t think I deserve that title. I failed you, little girl.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m here now, am I?”

“By sheer miracle,” he countered, “I did CPR on you for thirty minutes. Usually people doesn’t come back from that. I came too late.”

He was right. Even when people come back, they are usually brain dead. The only explanation was that I survived due to the cold weather that somehow kept my brain intact.

“Derek Morgan,” I cupped his face with my free hand that wasn’t attached to the IV drip. I didn’t know if what I was about to say to him had exceed the norm of friendship between us, but I felt that he needed to hear it either way. “You are one of the few good things that ever come to my life,” I said seriously as I looked up to him. “You have no idea how much I cherish you.”

Derek’s beautiful eyes visibly glassed over now. “Gosh, woman. Don’t give me that look,” he said, looking away.

“What look?”

Derek might look tough on the outside, but on the inside, he was this very sweet, soft marshmallow. I smirked at the thought. He looked back at me again, his eyes clearer now.

“Don’t give that kind of look to a professional womanizer, lest I lure you into my bed,” he jested rather teasingly.

“Instead, I lured you into mine. Look where you are now,” I said with a cheeky smile. He looked around the hospital room, then to the tiny bed we both were squeezed into. He chuckled attractively.

“I’m serious, woman. I would never hurt you, but some people out there might.”

I frowned. “Morgan,” I chastised him gently, “This isn’t like you. How could you think like that about yourself?”

Derek was usually having trouble keeping serious when not on the job; but these past few days, he was being much too serious, and his usually positive outlook on everything seemed to absent. It started to worry me.

“I know who the real Derek Morgan is,” I said with conviction. “He is kind, noble, and just a shy away from being too overprotective,” I said with a hint of teasing at the latter. “You are a good man, Derek Morgan. That womanizer thing? The endless flirting?” I asked rhetorically, cupping his cheek, “It’s all superficial.”

There was a lot going on behind that warm chocolate eyes. It was not like Morgan to not come back with a flirty remarks; or show his overly confident, charming smile. I didn’t  push and let silence to descend upon us. My hazel eyes drifted towards the digital watch on the wall that was read 02.44 A.M.

Poor Derek, my nightmare these past few days had woken him up at such ungodly hour.

“Carl Buford.”

I tore my eyes away from the watch, looking at Derek as I waited for him to continue. Derek hesitated, swallowing visibly. It was a rarity to see the handsome specimen of a man to be so nervous.

“He was my mentor back in a local youth center I was in when I was a teenager. My dad had just passed. I was going through some tough times, and Buford was like a second father to me,” he began, his eyes almost haunted as he continued, “One day he…he touched me; when no one was around.” A silent gasp left me. Derek pinched the bridge of his nose in distress, “Being a stupid young boy that I was, I was afraid to say no because… I didn’t want to lose my scholarship.”

“Derek...” I brought my hand up to cover my mouth in shock.

“I guess deep down, I am sleeping around with different girls every other weekend, just to prove to myself that I still like girls,” confessed Derek.

I wrapped my free arm around his neck, ignoring the pain on my ribs at the wide movement. I pulled him down to me and kissed his cheek before nuzzling his neck. He responded to my touch with a kiss on top of my head and hugged me close.

He continued with a slightly broken voice. “Lately I had a run in with him. He’s in prison now, but I had to admit, meeting him again brought a lot of memories that I want to forget.”

“Derek…” I sighed, speechless. My heart ached for him.

“I’m seeing a therapist weekly. I’m getting help,” he told me, his warm eyes lost, searching mine. It broke my heart.

Turns out, Derek knew, really knew, what I too had been going through.

He started again, this time with a little hope in his voice. “…I’m hoping that you would do the same,” he encouraged, knowing that I had made excuses not to see any trauma counselor ever since the doctor brought it up when I woke up. “Maybe… we can help fix each other. What do you say?”

If Derek could be so brave–I could too. I nodded as he wiped my silent tear with his thumb. “Okay.”

“Good,” Derek held me closer, pressing a series of kiss on the side of my head, “Sorry I made you cry, sweet girl.”

I held his hand that was bigger than mine; his beautiful mocha skin a stark contrast to my own pale one. “It’s okay. I’m proud of you.” I said as I relished on how warm and how perfect it felt to have his hands wrapping against mine; it made my heart skip.

“And I, you,” he replied, now with a lighter smile. He reached behind his jeans for something. “Also I wanted to ask you about this.”

He produced a leather notebook–my notebook–and I felt my stomach dropped as he offered it back to me. “I believe this belongs to you.”

Hesitating briefly, I took it. “Thanks.”

“Sixty seven names out of one hundred thirty six,” he pointed out. “I have been wanting to ask you about it since you wake up, but couldn’t seem to find a good time.”

He read. The whole team did, I thought to myself as I flipped through the list of the names and some numbered blanks.

“Cookie, can you tell me what is this book about?” he asked.

As per usual, I wanted to lie. This was a secret, a pact between me and my hearsay being. No one else was supposed to know, except, well, Reverend Chris, which was technically the very earthly representative of him.

But looking upon Derek’s expecting eyes, knowing that he had just bared his soul and his darkest secret to me just minutes ago–I couldn’t lie to his face. Doing that would be as equal as an insult to him.

“I know about the Baxton fire,” Derek encouraged, “When we were trying to find you, we had to profile you. That means digging into your past. Garcia found your expunged juvie record.”

My lips quivered with shame; I looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “Then you know. One hundred thirty six lives were lost because of me.”

Derek took my chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing me to look up into his eyes. “You know me. Nothing will ever change the way I look at you, sweetheart.”

“I know,” I mumbled.

“What is the book about?” he pressed, intelligent eyes searching mine.

“For me to keep count… to…” I trailed, “…balance the ledger.”

“The ledger?”

“…of the lives that were lost because of me.”

Derek nodded understandingly. I had wished that he would stop the line of questioning there, but being a thorough profiler, he needed to get all the facts.

“What’s the plan after you completed the list to the one hundred and thirty sixth name?”

“I…” my breath caught in my throat. “I want out.”

A frown made its way to Derek’s forehead. He tilted his head, eyes trained on me warily. “Define out.”

I pressed my lips together as the knot in my stomach tightened.

“Cookie?” he drawled out. Getting no response to me, he tried again. “Lizzy?”

My fingers whitened as my grip tighten on the notebook. “I want to see my family again," I said, the face of my little brothers faces came into my mind's eye, that night before I left them to die.

There was a long pause coming from Derek before his hold on me wavered. “No,” he pulled himself back from me, “No. Hell no,” he objected strongly, his expression turned upset real quick.

I swallowed.

“Suicide!?” he asked almost angrily, as if not believing his own words. He got up from my bed, and immediately I felt the loss of his warmth. “Please tell me you are making a dark joke, right now.” When I didn’t respond, his voice raised to another level. “I won’t ever let that happen, Elizabeth. Not on my watch!”

As he raised his voice, I looked up to meet his dark eyes and raised my voice defensively. “The hell I can. It’s the deal!”

Derek raised his hands in the air with frustration. So stubborn. “What deal?!”

“The deal I made with God!”

He scoffed in disbelief. Derek ran his hands on his bald head, his eyes were looking at me as if I had lost my mind.

“The God you visited after every other closed case at the chapel?” he asked with disbelief. He let out an audible exhale, “Elizabeth, I don’t think it was God you made that deal with.”

“I don’t expect you to understand. You weren’t even supposed to know.”

“What–why are you thinking this?” he shook his head, eyes heavy with disbelief and a storm of emotion. Getting another silence from me, he began again. “If I have never brought this up, and you completed that list, how were you planning on telling me?” he demanded, eyeing my book as if it was something he truly detest.

I traced the linings of my notebook protectively, keeping my eyes there as if I could shield them from Morgan’s eyes. “I plan to resign. We’ll have a little farewell party, then I’ll tell you that I’m moving somewhere warm. Thailand, maybe. And then you’ll just never hear from me again. You’ll only remember good things about me.”

“That is ridiculous,” his voice was weak, husky with emotion. He sounded tired.

Maybe he’d drop this topic soon.

“It’s not. It’s perfectly logical,” I insisted.

There was a heavy silence, so thick in the air. Bothered by Derek’s prolonged silence, I peeked to look at him. His eyes were glassy with pain.

“What about me?” his voice crack, “Baby, I know I’m not perfect, but I thought at least our friendship is special. But here you are talking about leaving me somewhere I can’t  follow.”

Tears leaked from my eyes. “You’ll still have Garcia,” my voice cracked, “And we still have a few years left together–“

“–I love you,” he cut me, pain and something else that made my heart skipped a bit swirled in his eyes, “I love you! And a few years is never going to be enough.”

Derek had probably been the most abusive person I had ever met towards the L word. But something in the way he said it made my heart ached; conflicted between wanting and not wanting it to be a special kind of word.

Swallowing, I replied quietly as he would expect me to. “I love you t–“

“–No, no, no,” Derek ran his hands on top of his bald head. If he had hairs, he would have clutched it tight with his fingers. “Not like that, Elizabeth. Not like that.”

My lips parted in shock.

Derek Morgan loved me.

I should be happy. My near death experience told me much about my feelings of Morgan. I loved him, more than I should have. But I couldn’t.

“You shouldn’t,” I sobbed, my chest raw with pain, “I’m not here to stay.”

Derek closed the space between us and cupped my face in his. As I looked into his eyes, his thumbs brushed gently across my cheek. “Then give me time to change your mind.” he pleaded, “Please.”

I was pulled towards two different directions. My stomach hurt at the thought; it made me feel sick to have to choose between Morgan and what I had wanted for a long time.

I didn’t want to see the pain or love in his eyes. I tried to pull back my neck to get away from his cupping hand, but he was persistent.

“Don’t,” he told me, “Say yes, or I’ll never let go.”

I had no choice, so I bravely looked into the depth of his expressive chocolate eyes, mustering everything in me to be pissed at him, but my voice came out weak–

“I hate you, Derek Morgan,” I said with a clenched jaw.

Derek scoffed softly; a small smile tugged at his lips despite the mellowness in his gorgeous eyes. “I think you don’t, cookie. I think you love me too.”

I remembered the blissful dream I had of him. His smile. His warm embrace. The way he gazed lovingly at me. The way he kissed me in my dream.

I can’t.

My eyes pricked; knowing I had to hurt him in order to get him to stop this wild thing he called love.

“No. You’re my friend. I don’t want more,” I lied as I took his hands from my face and brought them down to my lap, “You sleep with women once, then discard them like used condoms. I don’t need to feel any more cheap than I already am.”

There was hurt across his expression that cut me like a two edged sword. I swallowed it; knowing that I might have severed this amazing friendship we had. I was expecting him to pull his hands away from mine, to leave me alone. But he didn’t.

“I deserved that. I am an asshole. I am not a good man,” he told me. Immediately I felt so bad that I was pressing my lips together from telling him that he wasn’t. “But you are never cheap. You are…” Derek sighed, his eyes leaving mine, as if searching for answers in the hospital room we were in, “…You are my precious.”

We locked eyes for a moment, both of us realizing the sudden but smooth shift in the atmosphere around us. Then a snort escaped me, a laugh that made my injured ribs hurt, an easy one that made even Derek grin.

I jabbed at his abs, shaking my head as the remaining of my amused smile still lingered on my face. “Damn you, angel. We’re  supposed to be breaking up right now and you had to quote Smeagol to me.”

“Well next time don’t even try to fool a profiler,” he smirked attractively, though his eyes remained serious. “You were always there with me when things are tough. You always had my back. You are my greatest supporter. You’re my God-given solace, Elizabeth Dawson, so don’t you ever think that you can push me away. Do you hear me?”

My eyes stung.

Derek sat on the edge of my hospital bed, then pulled me into his arms. “I don’t ask you to answer anything now,” he said, as if changing his mind. “Just… promise me one thing: Give me a chance,” he spoke lowly to my ear.

I nodded. “With one condition,” I replied, hugging him back. “Don’t tell anyone else.”

Derek was quiet. I pulled away a bit to look up into his dark but kind eyes. He looked away, then I knew he was about to rat me out, probably to Hotch, so that I would never complete my list and that I would never go through my pact with my hearsay being.

My stomach churned; my heart began to pound in a simmering anger. For the first time in our friendship together, I let him see a part of me that I never let the team saw: a part of Alice.

Alice wasn’t exactly a sanguine version of Elizabeth’s introverted self. Alice was also quiet; but there was some kind of malice in Alice. She was quiet, but she always got what she wanted. Alice was selfish; she didn’t care if she hurt anyone to get what her mind was set into. In a way, even in the midst of her hacktivist group, she was powerful because of how much destruction she could cause. She could ruin someone’s life with just a stroke of her finger.

Alice, The Red Queen, was feared by many–except Jonathan Carver.

I gripped Derek by the collar of his shirt. With my other hand, I placed my palm on his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t tell Hotch. I need this job.”

“You are unfit for this job.”

“I am a highly functional individual.”

“You are suicidal. Do you think I’ll let you complete that list?” he countered with an intense look in his eyes.

“Do you think I can’t find another ways to complete that list?” My voice was even, but there was a hint of threat in it.

The threat to bring Alicia White back to the world.

Something in his eyes stirred. “Be reasonable, Elizabeth!” he spat in protest.

“This is me being reasonable,” I hissed angrily.

Derek clenched his jaw at my stubbornness; he knew full well what kind of damage I could cause now had I thought about letting Alicia White, or The Red Queen back into the world, now that Elizabeth Dawson had been fully immersed in the FBI for years. Worst case scenario, he would have to find a reason to lock me up in a cell, forever away from a computer and an internet connection to subdue me. He’d also know I could hurt him way worse before he could do all that.

I think I might have rubbed Derek the wrong way. Being the dominant one in our friendship, the alpha male had always been used to win easily over me. I was always agreeable, easy to compel. But not this time–not over something that was uber sacred in my life.

I chose to change tactics last minute. I let go of his shirt and softened my features. I gave him the look I learned that would give him the hard time to say no to me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight,” I sighed, running my hand down from his shoulder and bicep. Never usually one to initiate a contact, I braved myself to take his big hand in mine, clutching it gently. “You are asking for a chance. I am asking you to also give me a chance,” I pleaded softly. “Please, Derek, don’t take this job away from me. I have nothing else left.”

“You still have me, sweetness.”

“I know. But I need this.”

I felt horrible when I saw pain marring his handsome face. Even so, he nodded. Right then, I realized what that undecipherable look he gave me at times meant: Love, but not the kind he freely told everyone else.

“What you’re asking is against every instinct I ever have when it comes to you, little girl.”

I blushed, my heart melted at his words. “I know.”

I pat on the empty space next to my bed, beckoning him to lay next to me. A smile tugged on my lips when he did what I asked. I wrapped my arms around his middle and rested my head on his chest, inhaling his comforting Derek scent. He wrapped his arms gently over my shoulders, planting sweet kisses on top of my head as I left him to his own thoughts.

And just like that, our fight was over.

“I also know what you’re doing,” he said out of the blue just as I was about to close my eyes. “It doesn’t take a profiler to know you are using my weakness against me to agree to this silly arrangement of yours.”

I lifted my head to look at him. I smiled cheekily at the handsome agent as he gave me a chuckle.

“Is it working, then?” I asked.

“Too well,” he replied, taking my hand that was resting on his abdomen, brought it to his lips and kissed it. My stomach fluttered at the gesture. “You got me all wrapped up around your fingers, little girl.”

***

[Author’s Note: I want to give a shout out to Evelyn Sinclair from Quotev for giving me such uplifting reviews–it keeps me going! Thank you so much. I hope this chapter is not too underwhelming. Now that the dark part of the story had passed, we all can look forward to that fluffy Derek/Elizabeth story. Again I must stress that this is a happy ending story, so bear with me!

And if you are struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts, I just want to say I am very, very sorry. It must be painful, even crippling just to get up in the morning every day. I hope you have someone to talk to or someone that support you. If you don’t, please, reach out to someone. You don’t have to deal with this all alone.

Thanks for reading! R&R because I’m a sucker for reviews!]