"Look, we can sit here in silence for the next thirty-six hours that I can hold you, or you can make this easier for yourself. You tell me where you partner is, and I'll get a DA down here right now to make you a deal. So, what's more important to you? Protecting your partner who's probably out there right now, completely fine with watching you take the fall or--"

Heavy pounding on the other side of the thick wooden door, broke Derek Morgan of his line of questioning. His eyes shifting from the smug suspect, who sat cuffed to a chair across the metal table from him, to the closed door behind him to his right. His words cut short at the noise that almost seemed to vibrate throughout the entire small interrogation room.

Derek's knee bounced up and down beneath the table, as the heel of his boot tapped against the floor, annoyed at the rough interruption. But listening to the fist rattling the other side of that door grow harsher with urgency, realizing it wasn't going to stop until he went out there and dealt with whatever it was, Derek conceded that his interview was over for the time being. Releasing a deep exasperated sigh out into the air under his breath, as the screeching of his chair against the floor sounded within the confining four walls, Derek stood from the table. His hands roughly grabbing hold of the manila case file he had laying flat against the metal surface, and turned away from the suspect. Spotting the look of victory displayed across his face, as though Derek's exit made him feel more powerful, but Derek did his best to bite his tongue and simply head towards the door. Refusing to give this scum bag another second more of his time, much less the validation of witnessing the effects of Derek's buttons that he could push. Twisting the brass doorknob with his left hand as he passed the one way glass, Derek pushed open the door to find out what all of the commotion was about.

The room waiting right outside the interrogation room seemed darker, the brick walls cutting down on the natural light and the lightbulbs that hung from the ceiling gave off a dim orangish hue, as though no one had gotten around to changing them in years. The rays differing from the harsh light coming from the single bulb, hidden inside of a swinging metal fixture, that was inside the small room Derek had just exited from. But it wasn't dark enough to hide the distress that was written across Spencer Reid's face, as he was there waiting for him next to the one way glass.

"What the hell was that Kid? I was this close to getting a lead on the location of this guy's partner and then you--"

"We know where he is."The words abruptly cut Derek off, but they flew from Spencer's mouth so fast that he almost didn't hear them clearly. Raising a brow, Derek leans his head forward faintly, as if requesting without words for Reid to tell him where their other suspect is. But he watches with expectant and slightly impatient eyes, as the lanky man before him anxiously pulls at a loose strand of the cream flecked sweater he wears, fighting to find the words. Derek observes the way his face twists and pulls, as though the words are right there on the very tip of his tongue, and yet his body won't allow for them to fall. Leaving Spencer standing in front of him, timid and fidgeting his fingers in an anxious matter.

"Reid," Derek presses, as his brow raises higher and his fingers clutch tighter to the file he holds. "what's going on?"

"The unsub's accomplice, the partner we've been searching for, he evaded the police because we weren't looking in the right places. We weren't even looking in the right area. We had road blocks and a door to door search set up on the North side because that's the documented range that they target. All three victims lived within three blocks of each other, on the wealthier side of town. All indications pointed to the possibility that the partner split when Marcus got picked up, and was now already in another house in that same area, with a new victim, waiting out the heat we were forcing on them."

Spencer's nimble fingers continued to fidget with the loose string on his sweater, that he repeatedly coiled and uncoiled around his index finger as he spoke. His eyes darting between Derek's heavy and clouded brown eyes to the brick wall behind him. His words spewing quickly from his lips, his explanation complete and yet far too detailed for Derek's liking in that particular moment.

"We had no indicator that the partner would suddenly switch up their practiced and perfected MO. He was the submissive of the two, there was no evidence that he had the capability to continue on with the agenda his partner had planned once he got taken into custody. He should've stayed in the neighborhood he felt safest and most in control, now that he was fending for himself. But his actions turned brazen, we had no way of knowing that he would suddenly turn into the aggressor and step into Marcus's shoes."

"Where is he then? Do we have eyes on his location?"

Spencer's head that had fallen to gaze down at his sneakers, slowly lifts. His light brown--inching towards hazel-- eyes look up at Derek's darker ones, that look down on him with a heavy cloud of scrutiny. And in that single moment, with a simple lock of their eyes, Spencer doesn't have to say the words. He doesn't have to force them out. For Derek hears them loud and clear, seeing them in the tormented look that deeply floods Reid's eyes, and he can feel them sinking down like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. The words were clear even if they were silent to the ear, and they about stopped Derek in his tracks.

"What happened to her Reid?"

Derek watched Spencer's Adam's apple bob nervously before his lips finally parted, and the pained words came tumbling past them. "We still don't know how he found the address. We don't know if Marcus gave it to him knowing he was going to get arrested today, or if it was completely by chance. But she was home."

It felt as though someone had gotten hold of Derek's lungs, and slowly began to crush them in the harsh grasp of their bare hands. Clutching tightly to the organ that could no longer expand to allow him a breath of fresh air, leaving his chest to tighten and scream from the burning that ensued. His ears seemed to ring, a high pitched squeal, sharper than any alarm he had ever heard, rang through them mercilessly. Engulfing his mind, that was swirling in shock and swimming in sudden anxiety, in a numbing shrill. And slowly, as his blurring brown eyes had since fallen from their fixation on Spencer's nervous face, they looked down at his hands that had instinctively curled into fists at his sides. The manila file that he had gripped tightly in his right hand, was spread out against the floor. Papers strewn across the dark linoleum, their edges crushed beneath the sole of Derek's shoe. The file slipping from his grasp as the words entered the void and falling to the floor just as Derek's heart fell into his stomach.

The initial shock was suffocating. The words piercing through his flesh like the blade of a sharpened knife, yet at the very same time, they felt as though they bounced off of his chest. As though his body wouldn't allow for the words to sink in. The truth was hard for his body and his rapidly beating heart to accept, but the rational voice in his head clung to the words, knowing that Spencer didn't want to be sharing this news with him. He didn't want to be the one to shatter Derek's reality and drop this painful bomb on him, but the truth of the situation needed to shared. And although Derek could barely grasp the unfathomable reality, he swallowed down the fact that he couldn't stand here frozen and blind. He couldn't let the fear that washed over him like a tidal wave, inhibit him from facing this dreadful moment with a shred of clarity and a sense of calm that she needed him to have.

"She was able to dial 911," Spencer speaks up softly, his voice cracking under the immense pressure that had built up in the tiny brick surrounding space. "paramedics found her in the living room, unconscious."

"Is she--" Derek's voice was unrecognizable. For it was strangled by the fear that clawed at the inside of his chest like a wild lion. His throat seizing at the words that sat like poison on the tip of his tongue, but fortunately, not having to release them all as Reid answered him immediately. Pouring water onto the open flame that burned ferociously inside of his Derek, smoldering the tall flames that flickered with the growing terror that was gasoline to the blaze.

"She's alive Morgan," Spencer assured him. "Hotch sent me in here when they got the call. She was rushed to the emergency room in intensive care, she lost a lot of blood at the scene. But she's alive Derek."

Spencer Reid's words, although holding a small measure of relief to them, felt as though merely a simple bandage laid to cover a gaping wound. Concealing and soothing only a small section of the affected area, as the rest of the deep injury continued to bleed and burn fiercely. Derek's eyes slowly lifted from their still and unbreakable gaze on his clenched fists, his knuckles faintly beginning to turn white from the pressure. As his dark irises rose, they landed upon the suspect that sat snug in the small interrogation room, just past the one way glass. His arms were tightly crossed over his broad chest, the muscle beneath his black shirt puffed forward in an assumingly intimidating manor. His knuckles cut as his fingers curled roughly around his biceps, that were tainted with swirling ink. But it was his face that made Derek Morgan's jaw clench.

The twenty-nine year old man, sat with his back leaning back against the cold metal chair. His head shaven as though he was in the military, allowing for full view of every little detail of his scarred face. His eyes, dark as though there was not a single flicker of light to be found in his soul, stared straight ahead. His heavy gaze looking straight into Derek's, and it was as though the glass between them didn't exist. That the one way glass law enforcement required, was simply a bare window. The glass crystal clear, allowing full view of the two men who stood on either side of it. For the longer Derek stared into the eyes of the disgusting and villainous man, it was like the suspect knew it. For ever so slowly, his lips began to curl upward. The edges, lifting into the semblance of a smirk that reignited the flame that hadn't completely burnt out inside of Derek's chest. The arrogant curl of the man's nicotine chapped lips, met with the mocking lift of his left brow, was a clear admission in Derek's fuming eyes.

 But what truly set Derek's burning fire ablaze, was watching as the man's left hand subtly rose. His knuckles scarred and tainted with curling black ink, that wrapped around his fingers in thin streaks. And ever so sinisterly, with his lips lifting into a final smirk that was unmistakable to all eyes, he waved his ink ridden fingers right in Derek's direction. The action was nothing less than an accelerant dousing the crackling flames that soared within Derek's chest, causing the inferno to erupt in a blistering blaze.

Derek's jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth were grinding painfully against each other, and his hands that hung at his sides were so intensely wound into fists, that he didn't care about the ache he would certainly feel the next day. For in that single moment, as Derek Morgan stared into the very eyes of the man who was threatening to take away his world, all he felt was a burning hot rage. His blood boiled beneath his veins, the steam rolling out of his ears as Spencer could feel the body heat radiating off of him like rays of the beaming sun. His body felt numb on the exterior, the crushing sensation in his painfully white knuckles were imperceptible to him. He couldn't feel the burning in his lungs, as air tried it's best to make it through his overwhelmed and tightened chest. All he could feel, as he stared into the eyes of a being he could barely constitute as human, was rage.

And as though someone had tried to contain the flames, they finally exploded and escaped him. For with an animalistic growl that resonated from low in the back of his throat, Derek's right fist shot out and slammed against the glass. The vibration of his fist colliding against the sturdy glass, was felt in his bones. The anger rushing out of him in a sudden strong burst, that without a doubt, could have shattered a real glass window. The thundering impact caused Spencer to jump, but as Derek's eyes watched with intense scrutiny at the assailant, all he saw was the way his outburst caused a cold and maniacal laugh to escape past the unsub's curled lips. The sound was faint, as it traveled past durable glass and a thick wooden door, but the sound only fueled Derek as spun on his heels. Turning his back on the monster that waited on the other side of the glass. His quick motion ruffling up the papers that laid below his feet, and startled Spencer as he hurried behind him.

"Hotch said someone should go with you," Reid spoke in a rushed breath, smoothing down his dark purple tie as it flapped up as he walked briskly to try and keep up with Derek's much faster steps.

Already at the elevators, Derek pressed the down button repeatedly. His stiff fingers slamming against the little round lit up button with an intensity so strong, it could've easily have broken the small notch. But after feeling like minutes instead of mere seconds, the broad silver doors open and Derek rushed in. Pushing the button for the lobby floor, he looked up with expectant eyes as Reid still stood on the other side looking like a startled deer in headlights.

"Then get on Kid, let's go!"

Derek Morgan's harsh heartbeat sounded like a deep snare drum, the thunderous pounds that he could feel like punches to his stomach, that nearly knocked the wind out of him, echoed in his ears. The throbbing that overwhelmed his ear drums and quickly engulfed his head, coincided with the loud vibration of his heart. Each beat, sounding as though a sledge hammer landing against a metal gong. The sensation tightened his chest as his racing heart made the little air he managed even harder to breathe, and the intense pulsing that sounded like an echo chamber in his head, drained all of the other senses of sound from him. Gone were the blaring sounds of the siren that flashed bright lights from the SUV, and the horns that blared all around the black vehicle that drove madly down the highway. All that was left in it's place, was a pulsating beat that continuously thumped on.

Spencer's right hand held tightly to the grab handle above his passenger side window. His fingers anxiously wrapped around the handle with all of the strength that he had, as Derek drove them down the busy highway at a speed that honestly made the young doctor feel a little nauseous. Derek's knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel with the intense aggression that coursed through his veins, but they also clung to the leather material as though it was a single object to ground him back down to reality. That if he held tightly enough to the steering wheel, as he drove the SUV at the fastest speed he had ever driven in his life, that he could possibly keep his sanity until they arrived at the hospital.

The engine roared as it flew by honking and swerving vehicles, as the speedometer fearfully grew past 100. And the burning late afternoon sun blinded in Derek's rearview mirror. Reflecting off of the glass and glinting against his eyes that squinted through the ray. His focus was nearly shattered, as his perception of sound and clarity was askew, and yet he drove as though it was just a normal commute. For he made the exits with quick precision, even as his blurred and watering eyes could barely make out the signs. His body was running on instinct and adrenaline, and in that moment, it was his saving grace.

They were fortunate for the lack of vehicles in the drop off lane of the hospital, as Derek steered the brightly flashing black SUV into the open lane. Knowing that he had no right to park in the slot meant for emergency vehicles, but he didn't care. He was flying out of the car faster than Reid could possibly say something about their parking spot. The setting sun felt hot as it fell upon Derek's bare neck. The rays instantly soaking into the dark navy blue fabric of his t-shirt, that clung to his tight muscles, as faint sweat began to soak down the back. He ran quickly towards the sliding glass doors that laid protected, underneath the pillars that casted shade over the vast threshold. Instantly cutting off the heat of the early evening sun, and leaving him consumed in chilling air conditioning that blasted against his exposed flesh as the glass doors slid open.

His head still spun as though his entire conscious had been knocked off of it's axis. The colors that moved around him, blurred like streaks in a watercolor. And the sounds, the echoing of nurses and beeping of loud machines, surrounded him. Swirling around him in a cloud of overwhelming stimulation. For just as his eyes would focus on a single sight, or his ears on a single sound, the sensation would send him spiraling all over again. For gurneys passed on his left, patients wobbling towards waiting chairs to his far right. Doctors rushed with nurses, as medical equipment and glimpses of bloody bandages on some of the patient's wounds sent his racing heart into panic. For it was fear that filled Derek's tightened chest, the anxiety of knowing that she was brought into this room on a similar stretch board with bloody gauze and bandages of her own. But she didn't have him there to hold her hand, as he witnessed so many couples in the waiting room did, she was alone. And the sobering realization as he looked around at his sterile and startling surroundings, rattled his shaken heart.

"Morgan!" Spencer's hand gently brushing against Derek's broad and slightly heaving shoulder, as it shook with his ragged heavy breaths, startled him out of his thick cloud of thoughts.

"She's upstairs in the intensive care unit, room 107."

Through all of the chaos that had begun to ensue inside of Derek's terrified head, as his world spun all around him, he hadn't even noticed that Spencer was the one who went to the front desk and asked for her. Taking over for Derek when he couldn't focus any further, and he had never been more thankful for the kid than right in that moment. They walked to the first set of elevators together, and although Derek's steps were still rushed and the tread on the soles of his boots squeaked against the linoleum flooring, there was a moment where he could breathe as he watched the numbers of the floors climb. For he had a destination in sight, he knew where to go and now all that he had to worry about, was what was going to be there waiting for him.

The floor that the reflective metal doors opened up to, was eerily quiet. For his heartbeat pounded inside of his head, as they ventured down the hallway towards the desk that waited in the glow of warm and less harsh fluorescent than the floors below. There was an unnerving serenity that lingered in the air, not to be mistaken for the fear and seriousness that hung in the air over the patients who continued to fight for their life inside their rooms, but there was something in the soft quietness that brought back a sliver of clarity to Derek's scattered mind.

The nurse who sat at the softly lit desk was older, her kindness radiating from her tender features far before her faintly accented voice spoke up in the silence. And there was something comforting in the gentle face of the older, dark skinned woman who greeted him. Her curls bounced just inches above her eyebrows as her twinkling eyes looked up at him with a warm smile, small as she was sensitive to his reasoning for being here, but kind as though to help ease his pain in any possible way.

"My name's Derek Morgan," It had been the first time since they had left the BAU, that Derek spoke. And his voice sounded anything but his own. For it sounded frayed, lost and hanging on it's very last thread. "and I'm--I'm looking for my wife."

The woman's lips moved just as the words began to form on the tip of her tongue, but a deeper voice answered from behind him before she got the chance.

"Mr. Morgan?"

Derek spun on his heels, and was met with an older gentleman. His hair greyed as it wisped lightly over his scalp, and his face was clean shaven giving him full view of the creases and faint sags in the skin that had aged from years gone by. He was only an inch or two shorter than Derek, but it was the white coat and chart he held in his right hand that instantly captured his attention.

"I'm Doctor Benning, I was the physician assigned when your wife came in."

"How--how is she? Where is she, can I see her?" Derek's anxiously fueled questions came tumbling out, one after another. But they didn't seem to faze the doctor, instead he calmly and professionally offered the clearly shaken man a kind smile and proceeded to answer his questions.

"Your wife came into our emergency room with multiple lacerations to her arms and legs, her right wrist was fractured and many of her ribs on the right side were also severely bruised. She suffered a blow to the head which resulted in the unconsciousness at the scene, and we've gone ahead and run an MRI to check for any internal damage from the contusion to her skull, but the results have come up clear. We're keeping her here in intensive overnight for observation, just to ensure that there are no serious complications or internal injuries that were missed or less pronounced on our scans."

"So she'll be alright?"

The doctor nodded with a stern sincerity in his motion. "Yes, Mr. Morgan. Her injuries were minor, she was very fortunate. None of the lacerations nicked arteries and there is no sign of bleeding in the brain. She's on some pain medication at the moment, to help with the pain in breathing from her ribs, and she'll take some time to heal, but I have full faith she'll make a complete recovery."

"Can I see her?" Derek asked in a single breath, and although the doctor's words allowed his aching chest to expand out into a deep and vital breath, his fingers began to shake nervously at his sides.

"Absolutely," The doctor led him to a room down the hall. The gold numbers that Spencer had repeated from the nurse downstairs hung in the center of the light oak wood door. "she's asleep at the moment, but you can sit with her for as long as you would like."

The uneasy silence that penetrated the atmosphere on the intensive care floor, overwhelmed Derek as his fingers slowly turned the smooth door handle. For as he pushed the door open carefully, easing it into the room in case of any squeaking hinges, Derek's breath hitched. For he feared even the smallest sound would somehow puncture the quiet cloud he found himself immersed in. But as he stepped into the hospital room as quietly as he could, his eyes falling upon the large bed that laid against the far wall, he couldn't help the breath of air that rushed past his lips. It sounded in the air, a light gasp that released a pressure from deep within his tightly held chest.

The room was dimly lit with a warm light, with more of a blueish hue than what was out in the hallway, but still soft on the eyes. The window to the left was closed, as the curtain had been pulled across the glass, as the setting sun began to introduce the evening into the sky. Machines beeped around the bed, lending a repetitive yet oddly melodic rhythmic hum to the room. The soft sound cutting through the thick void of anxiety that suffocated Derek, as he ventured forward towards the bed. The sheets were a pale blue shade, one that almost resembled white if not for the white blankets that were spread out across her legs, to tell him otherwise. Her legs were stretched straight out, and hidden beneath the layers of soft fabric to keep her warm. But he could make out the shape of them, as some of the blankets began to bunch around her knees and against her thighs. Drawing a faint outline of her body that was concealed from Derek's view.

His eyes scanned over her body as he rounded to the left side of the bed, where a plastic hospital chair laid in wait for him beside her. His eyes moved over her blanket clad body, as the back of his legs brushed against the chair, and ever so slowly, the very tips of her fingers came into view. They rested on top of the soft fabric, her flesh warm in contrast with the harsh white of the material that covered her. Her nails were painted with the light peach tone polish she always wore, and as Derek's knees slowly bent down to allow his body to take a seat on the very edge of the seat, his eyes looked downward at her hands. Her right hand was wrapped in a thick white bandage, the protective and healing casing climbing up her wrist into the middle of her forearm. And her left hand on the other side of him, was home to an IV, that sent a rush of fluids and necessary pain medication through her veins. Her flesh was pale, but it wasn't lifeless. And it was with that warming observation, that Derek gently reached out. Brushing the pads of his fingertips against her bare fingers, and as carefully as he could, he curled his fingers around her own. His thumb softly brushing against the tops of her knuckles as he cradled her chilled hand close.

His eyes left her hand, as his fingers had their own protective hold on it, and lifted to see the muted color of the hospital gown draped against her chest. The color washed her out, as the pale color rested just below the base of her neck. But as he looked up even further, as his newly watering eyes found sight of her face, he saw all of the color he needed there. For she didn't look a sickly pale shade that he had feared he would find, and although her skin was painted with the heavy tones of purples and blues from the bruises that formed beneath, the warm shade of her flesh still managed to capture his eye. Her lips were faintly parted, the pale pink marred in the top corner with a dried remnant of blood left in the cut. A tube wrapped around her ears as it rested gently in her nose, helping her breathe. And her dark eyelashes laid fluttering every so gently against the swollen skin of her left cheekbone.

Another breath released into the open air, and Derek felt his bottom lip begin to tremble just as it tumbled out. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave, and yet, there was this insufferable guilt that plagued his gut. A sickening feeling that caused a shaky breath to escape him, as his right arm lifted and he gently brushed his fingers against her hair. The strands warm and silky beneath his touch, as his fingertips brushed against the bandages that wrapped around the back of her scalp. "I'm so sorry baby," Derek whispered, feeling the words tear through his heart and float through the small space to his wife that laid asleep in her hospital bed. "I'm so sorry."

The doctor, who had been double checking her vitals on the machines as Derek sat beside her, cleared his throat from the opposite side of the room.

"We'll keep an eye on her vitals and any reactions she may have to the medications overnight. And we'll continue to monitor for any signs of further injury. But she's in good hands Mr. Morgan, and she was very fortunate. She'll be just fine." Dr. Benning reassured him with a kind ghost of a smile, and began to make his way towards the door.

"Thank you Doctor." Derek nodded, as he looked to the older man.

"You're very welcome," He responded, as his hand wrapped around the door handle. And just as he was about to step out, he paused and looked back at Derek with a soft smile. "and congratulations by the way."

Derek turned slightly in his chair, not letting go of her hand in the process, but allowing himself a clearer look at the doctor. His eyebrows furrowed as confusion washed over him, and spoke up softly. Not understanding how that word had any place in their current situation. "Congratulations?"

"On the baby," The Doctor explained simply, with a gentle nod of his head. "you two will make fine parents."

And then with a twist of the handle, the doctor was gone. And Derek Morgan was left with a wave of shock that rattled through his bones and soared straight to his core. His eyes were wide as his lips parted in a breathless gasp, and slowly he turned his head back to look at his wife. The silence that once penetrated the room, seemed insurmountable now. As though all sense of sound had been drained from his body, for even the heavy pounding of his racing heart couldn't even be heard in his head. It was silent, as emotion stalled his movements and shock overwhelmed his mind.

The world that he had feared would be taken from him, in the end, had grown. The world he knew with her, had suddenly expanded and a universe was born. For it wasn't just him and his wife anymore. There was a baby, a little life created, that changed everything for Derek Morgan. His life that had been thrown on it's axis the moment he heard the news, was suddenly balanced again. Everything in focus.

The day that had brought forth so much darkness and fear in Derek, at the end of it, had entered a light brighter than anything he ever thought possible. Not only was his love alive and set to make a full recovery, but there was a chapter unfolding in the midst of the darkness that had tried to destroy it. In the most heartbreaking of days, a new heartbeat appeared, and changed Derek Morgan's heart in ways he didn't even know yet.

A/N: I have had this idea planned since I very first began to write for this book!! I fell in love with the idea, and that GIF at the top really brought it to life.😍It has taken me longer to write it than I thought it would, but I realized it was because I wanted this one to be as perfect as it could be, because there was so much potential and depth in this idea. There's so much happening in this one, it's fast passed and heart racing, and then the end really slams on the breaks and pours in the deep emotion. I wanted to bring it all to life, I wanted my descriptions to be rich and I wanted you to ride the roller-coaster Derek was on while you read this one. I hope that you all enjoyed this one, I worked very hard to bring the beautiful vision I had for it to life!❤