THE HIGH ROAD, OR THE LOW?
Based on the TV Show "Criminal Minds"

He remembered feeling sheer exhaustion. It had already been a week since the team was called out to Portland to help in the search of serial kidnapper. A week since his latest victim had been discovered in the back alley of the police station they had centered in. A week since a young woman with similar features to the last victim had disappeared from her apartment. A week without so much as a lead.

Sitting on his bed in the hotel room he shared with Reid, he cracked open the case file bearing the young woman's photo. Audrey Renfeild was a twenty three year old student and part time waitress. Like the other victims, she had long, light brown hair and narrow features. Oddly, her eyes were sky blue instead of green. The change had upset their original profile until it was suggested by interviews with co-workers that she wore colored contacts while working. That fact, in and of itself, suggested a slew of possibilities as to how the unsub made contact with his victims, though only one other victim worked in food service. Unfortunately, that victim was now laying in a permanent vegetative state in Legacy Emanuel Hospital's ICU. He, along with four other men and one woman had physically survived through whatever ordeal they had been put through, though he wouldn't exactly say any of them had lived through it. The two not placed into comas were lost, probably forever, in their own minds.

Closing the folder, Morgan rubbed his face. It had taken a direct order from Hotch to make him return to the hotel and catch up on what sleep he'd missed. It wasn't as though this case was any more unique then others they had encountered. Granted, the fact that the victims were returned alive was a different twist but the level of physical and psychological damage pointed towards a sexual sadist. Something they dealt with on almost a daily basis. This case, however, got to him. Though he would never admit it openly, finding the body of the young man in the alley brought a whole new level to the case (not to mention memories he would rather forget). Even though he knew he needed to remain detached, the image of a little boy, with a face like Audrey's, left in the same position as the victim made it nearly impossible for him to sleep. Instead, he had put whatever energy he had in reserve trying to figure this bastard out before it was too late.

That energy had seemed to run its course, however. Collapsing backwards on the bed, he felt his eyes start to close as his muscles relaxed. Forcing himself to sit up again, he managed to pull off his shoes before lying back down, too tired to care about the rest of his clothing. The clock read 11pm beside him.

He woke up with a pounding headache. Groaning, he turned over on his side, the mattress room felt colder then before making him wondered if Reid had been messing with the thermostat again. For someone the size of a twig, the young genius had an irritating preference for the cold. It made absolutely no sense to him, considering her knew Reid had grown up in Las Vegas. Deciding to yell at him later as another overwhelming wave of sleepiness washed over him, he turned onto his other side. Before again surrendering completely to sleep, he cracked open an eyelid to check the time.

A cold chill ran through him as he realized he wasn't alone. Bolting up, he surprised his attacker with his sudden movement. The man fell backwards from his kneeling position as Morgan felt a sharp pinch in his right thigh. Glancing down, he saw a hypodermic needle sticking out of his side. Reaching for his firearm, he found his vision blur as a wave of nausea swept over him. He felt himself slide down against the bed's edge. The shape in place of where the man had been rolled away from him, coming to a stop beside another shape on the floor. Morgan felt a jolt of fear as the last of his consciousness recognized the shape of a person. Blinking, he tried to call out for someone but his voice was weak even to his dulling senses. Darkness swept in over the edges of his vision..."Derek. Derek. Derek, wake up!" a voice called out over the darkness.

He awoke with a jolt, clenching his hands unconsciously. Audrey winced as the large palms encased her fingers in a crushing vice grip. For a moment, the profiler looked around the room, his eyes glazed over and his breath coming in short gasp. He looked around the room, not really seeing where he was as the dream kept its hold on him. As his eyes fell on Audrey, he let out a defeated half-whimper before closing his eyes again, as though wishing sleep would take him back.

"Shh, shh," Audrey said, her voice just barely above a whisper, "Derek, it's okay. We're safe, it's okay."

She leaned forward slightly, to rest a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes at the touch, the dark orbs moving up the arm to look at the face attached to it. Rossi felt his stomach clench again as he thought he saw tears brimming in the younger profiler's eyes. Yet none fell as Morgan closed his eyes again, his jaw tightening noticeably, and nodded to Audrey. The girl for her part remained frozen in place, her eyes clouded over with worry. The cloud vanished, however, as Morgan opened his eyes again.

"Where's Hotch?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Audrey glanced over to the other side of the room, her eyes meeting Rossi's. Morgan's gaze followed hers, first looking at Rossi before settling on Hotch's calmly sleeping form. Rossi was certain he could see Morgan's relief as the younger man's shoulders seemed to relax. Looking back up at Rossi, Morgan cleared his throat.

"Rossi," he said, his voice only slightly less hoarse then before.

"Derek," the older profiler replied, keeping his tone as casual as possible. It took all he had to repress the sudden flash of rage towards the unsub for what he had done to his coworkers, his friends, "How are you?"

"Been better," Morgan replied, coughing. His chest felt like it was on fire for a moment but he refused to even grimace. Settling down into the cot, he turned his gaze to the ceiling. Audrey had long since let go of his shoulder, though he could still feel her thin, chilled fingers pressed in his hand. Realizing he was still clutching onto her, he forced his hands to release only to have Audrey wrap those same fingers around his hand again. The gesture, meant to be comforting, brought only a sense of guilt. Silently, he wished the girl would let him go while at the same time hating himself for clutching to her hand again, albeit gently this time. He didn't deserve her kindness or compassion. He had failed himself, and more importantly her and Hotch.

Her other hand traced patterns along the back of his hand. Back and forth, back and forth her fingers ran atop his. The motion was soothing in its simplicity. He felt his eyes begin to drift close and stiffened. Yet her hand kept moving back and forth.

"It's okay, Derek," her voice sounded so far away, "Go to sleep. I'll pull you back."

She never said back from what. They both knew. Another wave of guilt washed over him at her words, almost preventing him from falling asleep. He was the one who was suppose to pull her from the darkness...

Her fingers ran back and forth.

Back                         Home                              Miscellaneous Television Fanfic Page                          Next