Just Breathe: Morgan
a/n: I was inspired by the Scrubs bonus tv episode title prompts issued by Kavi and Sienna27 on ff.net.
Please review me if you're enjoying thus far, and let me know whose chapter you might like to read next. :)
Just Breathe - Morgan
Prompt: Scrubs - "My Faith in Humanity"
There's a werewolf out on my front lawn.
He's lookin' pissed off.
He's wet from all the rain.
I think I'll go say hi
And offer him a beer.
- Bob Schneider
With each and every case we work, my faith in humanity suffers. No, that’s not true. Not entirely true. How can it be? There are good cases. There are cases when an UnSub isn’t a bad guy (or maybe those are the worst cases of all, like that poor kid Jonny McHale…), or there are cases where we save the vic and it all ends more or less happily. Relatively speaking, of course.
Those are good days.
Those are rare days.
Mostly my days end like today. I feel…raw. Rung out. Rode hard and put up wet, as my momma’s been known to say.
Every time I close my eyes, I see the vics. I see those people with their skulls bashed in; I see that man shoved behind the wall of that cheerful nursery (like a fuckin’ Poe story, Jesus I hate Poe and his macabre obsessions…); most of all I see those UnSubs. I picture them running at that wall of cops like Butch and fuckin’ Sundance over the cliff.
I can see Hotch and Prentiss walking away.
Walking the fuck away.
I can't...I know Hotch has been through hell. He's lost his family, been tortured by Foyet, has Strauss breathin' down his neck, but what the fuck, man? He makes me nervous. Antsy. I got no idea what's comin' next with him.
Is that why I'm back here? Is that why I'm parked in front of Tamara Barnes' building at 10 o'clock at night? Garcia warned me today - she lectured me - about the dangers of seeing Tamara, and yet here I am. I close my eyes and I see Tamara Barnes. And I wonder.
Was Garcia right? Of course she was right. I should stay away from her. She’s the sister of a murder victim, and I’m not ready to be her knight in shining armor right now. If anything, I’m the one who needs a knight to save me…gender confusion issues notwithstanding. That’s not what I’m talkin’ about. I mean…should I listen to Garcia?
She didn’t listen to me once, and it got her shot.
That’s not…I’m not…apples and oranges, for God’s sake.
It’s raining. I don’t bother to cover my head as I climb out of the car, and the water streams down into my eyes, down my cheeks - like tears.
Apples and oranges. Is it really? If I go into her building now, knock on her door, I’ll be setting us both up for something just as painful as any bullet. I won’t get hurt. It’s not how I’m built. But it would hurt me to hurt her. Hasn’t she been hurt enough? Does she really need my damage and my bullshit making things even worse?
Fuck.
Fuck you, Garcia. How did crazy, paranoid, troll-doll-loving Penelope Garcia become the voice in my head? If I go up there, I’ll hear her, naggin’ away, and I’ll see that look, that disappointment, that…hope, dashed.
I wipe the rain away and wonder when I last cried. I cried for Garcia, when I thought I might lose her. If I walk in to Tamara Barnes' building tonight, and Garcia finds out, will I lose her just as surely, just as completely…in a totally different way?
Jesus wept. Penelope Garcia is not my keeper! I’m a grown man. Tamara Barnes is a grown woman.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I just need someone to talk to, someone who isn’t a profiler, someone who understands what it’s like to feel this empty.
Decision made, for better or for worse, I duck my head and hurry across the rain-swept street, the air burning white-hot in my lungs. Ignoring the pain, knowing it’s the product of a guilty conscious, I keep breathing, and I keep moving.
Whew, that one was sorta like pulling teeth. I had the idea, I got about half-way through...and then I hit a brick wall. I decided to go to bed, and while I was listening to "Changing my Mind" by Bob Schneider (the song quoted at the beginning), the second half of the story hit me. I know he was dry when he knocked on her door, but consider it artistic license. :)
Also, I'd like to apologize for Derek's language. I'm sure his momma didn't raise him to be such a potty mouth, but I think if the show were on HBO or something, Morgan would be the one doing most of the cursing. :)
I had contemplated doing Hotch's chapter in first person, and after doing Morgan's that way I might continue. I dunno, dear readers, what do you think? Let me know with a lovely review!