Monday, October 19, 2015
Resurrection Day Chapter 11
The annoying monotonous beeps of the monitors seemed far into the distance. As his eyes slowly opened the beeps became louder and he remembered where he was. His eyes roamed the room landing on the sleeping form of Spencer Reid who’d volunteered to sit with him until he regained consciousness. He immediately tried to sit up but was pulled back onto the bed by the pain now also awake in his body. Reid quickly stood and approached the bed.
“She’s fine. The doctor gave her something to relax her. It was just a panic attack; it’s to be expected.”
Morgan allowed his body to relax as he stared at the ceiling. He needed to be with her. He wanted to apologize for upsetting her and for so many other things that would have to wait.
“I tried to comfort her…to hold her but she just freaked out, man.”
“Morgan, it’s going to take time lot’s of time. You both went through a stressful ordeal.”
Morgan looked away from his friend; he didn’t want to see his face when he asked the next question.
“Did he rape her?”
“Morgan, I think you should…”
Morgan turned and faced his friend with fury and tears in his eyes.
“Did he rape her?”
“No Morgan, he didn’t rape her.”
Morgan exhaled and turned his eyes back to the ceiling.
“She’s still going to have the same feelings of violation and betrayal and anger. If he hadn’t been impotent he would have raped her and none of us could have stopped him. Not even you.”
“I saw him on top of her…she was naked and his hands were…”
“You saw what he wanted you to see. He was simulating the act and he did everything to her except penetrate her. Morgan, look at me!”
Morgan reluctantly turned to face his friend.
“He knew you were coming. He wanted her to wake up as he was attacking her so she would be terrified.”
“Why? Why her? She’s never hurt anyone in her life and that sick son-of-a-bitch…”
“She’s a strong woman; strong enough to have found a way to defend herself. She killed him! He didn’t see that coming!”
“No he didn’t. How do I help her, Reid? She’s never going to get over this.”
“What about you? The same thing he did to her he did to you.”
“No! What are you talking about?”
“Morgan, you know what I’m talking about. Each time he stabbed you he was simulating the act of…”
“Don’t! Don’t say it! I know what it means, please. I can’t talk about this right now.”
Reid watched his friend’s body stiffen on the bed and withdraw from him as he resumed his fixed study of the ceiling his body slightly trembling as he fought back the tears.
Penelope opened her eyes still heavy from a drug-induced sleep. She saw her friend sleeping quietly in the corner unaware that she was awake. She remained still feeling foolish and embarrassed at her earlier display of emotion. Her mind was beginning to emerge from the fog caused by Anderson’s drug and she remembered the details of her minutes with him; minutes that felt like hours. He’d wanted to terrorize her and humiliate her by drugging her and stripping her of her clothes and dignity. He’d planned to use her shame and violation at his hands as his trophy proving that he had defeated Morgan and the others. She could still feel his hands on her skin, could still smell his wretched cologne in her nostrils and the weight of his body still felt heavy as she moved to find a more comfortable position on the small narrow bed.
She heard a slight groan and knew that JJ was awake and Penelope welcomed her company as she waited for her to look her way.
“Hello Sleepyhead!” She said trying to sound chipper.
“How are you feeling, Garcie?”
JJ cautiously approached the bed and looked down upon her friend. She seemed pale and she wasn’t fooled by her vain attempt at levity.
“I’ve been better and I’ve been worse.”
JJ’s lip trembled as she fought the tears threatening to overtake her.
“Hey, no tears! I’m fine, really. It’s going to okay.”
“Yeah I know it is. I’m just…”
She wiped a tear and took a breath to compose herself.
“…Just happy to see you, that’s all.”
Penelope smiled for the first time since the nightmare had begun; she was happy to be seen as her mother used to say. In spite of everything that had happened she knew that she had won. Anderson’s plans did not included getting stabbed by his own knife. He’d underestimated her light-hearted bubbly nature! He confused it for weakness and she was not weak.
Then she remembered Derek and the look on his face of horror as she pulled away from his touch refusing his comfort. He’d suffered unspeakably at the hands of Anderson and she knew he’d keep that secret even from her. She felt her own tears now.
JJ took her hand and squeezed it gently.
“He’s going to be fine. He collapsed outside your room but he’s going to be fine.”
“I need to see him. I feel horrible for how I treated him, JJ.”
“Morgan loves you and he’s a profiler. He knows your reaction was normal. Believe me he won’t hold it against you.”
“I knew he would come, I knew you all would come.”
“Of course.” She began still holding her hand. “I just prayed we weren’t too late.”
“No, never, you were right on time.”
“As it turned out you didn’t need our help.”
She joked and smiled hoping to lighten the mood. Garcia smiled then quickly sadness covered her face.
“I never thought I’d have to kill someone.”
“It was self-defense, Garcia. Anderson was a sick, sick monster!”
“I know. I just never imagined…that’s what you guys do your trained for it. Me, I’m supposed to sit in my safe world with my babies and master cyberspace.”
“Well, we do what we have to do and tonight you showed just how strong you are and took back your control. I’m so proud of you.”
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”
Home of Derek Morgan – 2 weeks later –
She’d kept a close eye on him since he’d been home. He walked around gingerly still dealing with the pain of his wounds, still not talking about what had happened and still refusing to reveal his upper body as they lied together each night. Her nightmares had kept her in a constant battle for sleep but she was managing them better now. Morgan on the other hand was suffering and his nights were haunted by his experience with Anderson; joined now with Buford and Foyet…sleep was now just a distant memory for him. He’d complied with the Bureau’s request for therapy and so did she both attending sessions separately and where she was finding some relief and understanding, he was going through the motions. Something needed to change or she knew she’d lose him to the dark pit he was trapped in.
Like the night before and the night before that he hadn’t slept. His body ached more from fatigue than it did from the still healing wounds. Even now as he walked around his kitchen he found each step to be labored and slow and his mind was clouded with his never ending battle not to think. He didn’t want to remember but the more he tried to forget the more his mind remained fixated on his captivity and torture.
“Good Morning, Handsome.”
He hadn’t heard her enter. He flinched as she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. She forced herself not to react to his tension, as he’d also been jumpy since being home. Seconds later he relaxed and allowed her touch; another reminder that it would take time for things to get back to normal.
“Hey, it’s early you should still be asleep.”
“So should you.”
“Yeah, well…” he chuckled sadly. “I’d love to still be asleep but…”
She carefully took the cup from his hand and laid it on the counter. She turned him to face her and waited for him to look at her. He did and her heart broke for him as she saw the pain and loss in his eyes.
He watched as her hands slowly approached his face he kept his eyes focused on hers as if it were his lifeline. He steadied himself for her touch as she placed her hands on each side of his face and caressed lightly drawing him toward her. Their foreheads met and he inhaled and pulled her tight against his body. He realized he needed the contact between them; her touch was like a warm balm against his aching body. Even though they’d shared the same bed he had not allowed any physical contact between them.
She felt him tremble slightly as she placed a light kiss on his lips. She waited for his reaction before repeating the action. She felt a twinge of hope as she again kissed him this time running her tongue across his bottom lip politely requesting entry. She smiled against him as he let her in and she deepened the kiss. He joined her as their tongues explored each other’s mouths and danced the dance of control. The need for air caused their bodies to surrender as they breathlessly pulled apart.
He felt emotions stirring within him; emotions that he’d almost forgotten existed and he blinked back his tears willing them to stay in their place. He didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to lose control…control meant power; power to say no and power to fight back and resist being forced to do things against his will.
Then he felt her lips on his face, then moving to his neck. He ran his hands through her hair gently pulling her away from him. She saw in his eyes what he was sure was hidden from her; fear and uncertainty but she kept going for both of their sakes she knew they needed to feel again, to remind each other that the beast hadn’t won this time. She refused to surrender and she refused to let him surrender…she was ready to meet his resistance.
She returned to his lips only this time she didn’t wait for his permission as she plunged her tongue deep within his mouth and hungrily devoured him. His hands began to run circles over her back and shoulders; he was so consumed by the taste of her that he’d momentarily let his guard down. Her hands began to creep beneath his t-shirt brushing purposefully across his abdomen then his chest. He froze and broke the kiss and moved slightly away. She looked up at him in silent expectation watching him process what was happening in his mind.
“I’m not Anderson.” She whispered taking a step toward him.
“I said, I’m not Anderson…and neither are you.”
He ran his hand across his face, neck and over his head trying to make sense of her words. Backing away his body came to a stop against the kitchen island. Quickly she closed the gap between them and facing him took his hands in hers.
“Time for what?”
“Time to stop letting him win, my love.”
“I don’t understand. What do you want from me?”
“I want you to fight this! Derek, you have to fight or Anderson’s plan worked!”
He pushed past her and bolted from the room. He suddenly felt dirty, worthless, like the little boy, who’d spent the weekend in a small cabin with a man who he thought loved him. He found himself in the bathroom and with a trembling hand turned on the shower. He caught his reflection in the mirror just before it clouded over with steam. His stomach wretched at the sight of the scars that ran over his chest, stomach and arms. The room began to close in and he couldn’t breathe and in that moment he wanted to die.
She heard the water running as she stepped into their bedroom walking slowing toward the bathroom she heard the gut wrenching sounds of agony. She was conflicted in that moment knowing that he’d never want her to see him in this state. But she had to save him; she had to throw him a lifeline because he was sinking fast into the abyss. So, she pushed the door open.
The heat from the steam greeted her as she pushed her way in. He sat on the floor his arms wrapped around his knees that were pulled tightly against his chest. He didn’t acknowledge her presence but she continued to move toward him. As she lowered her body next to his he turned his head to face her. Tears mixed with the wetness of the steam illuminated his face as he sobbed and shook uncontrollably. Tearfully and without saying a word she placed her hand on his arm and immediately he allowed his body to fall against hers as he continued to sob. Wrapping her arms around him tightly she rocked back and forth whispering in his ear.
“I love you, Derek Morgan.”
He shook his head affirmatively unable to speak.
“You’re going to get through this…we both are going to get through this.”
Again he shook his head. Then without warning he shifted and took her in his arms resting his head on her chest and this is how they remained for the next several minutes. The water still running unused in the shower and the steam a thick smoldering cloud around them, the two sat in each other’s arms on the floor. Both of them in pain beyond even their own realization, both needing so much from the other and both drowning and seeking solace in each other’s touch.
“I need you, Penelope.” He whispered so softly he wasn’t sure she heard him.
She did and a small smile found it’s way onto her face.
“I need you too, Derek.”
Now their healing could begin…
“Love one another and help others to rise to the higher levels, simply by pouring out love. Love is infectious and the greatest healing energy.” - Sai Baba