"It's hard to fathom," Derik said softly.
Morgan's free hand absently stroked Skunk's head."She waited all that time for justice.And when it didn't come, she...she just snapped.Became the very thing she hated."
"It's a tragedy, no doubt about it," Derik agreed."But Morgan, you can't—"
"Can't what?"she interrupted, a sudden edge to her voice."Can't understand it?Can't relate?"She pulled her hand away from his, standing abruptly.Skunk whined at the sudden movement.
"That's not what I was going to say," Derik said, his tone careful."I just meant—"
"I know what you meant," Morgan cut him off again.She paced the living room, running a hand through her hair."But the truth is, I do understand.More than I want to admit."
She turned to face Derik, her eyes burning with unshed tears."I spent ten years in prison, Derik.Ten years waiting for justice that never came.And now?"She gestured vaguely."I'm still waiting.Still searching.And sometimes...sometimes I wonder if I'm any different from Sarah Winters."
The silence that followed was heavy, charged with unspoken fears and shared understanding.Finally, Derik stood, crossing the room to stand before her.
"You are different," he said firmly."You're here, now, fighting for justice the right way.You haven't let it consume you."
Morgan's laugh was hollow."Haven't I?"
Derik's hands came to rest on her shoulders."No, you haven't.Because you're still you, Morgan.You still care.About the victims, about doing what's right.That's what sets you apart."
She wanted to believe him.God, how she wanted to.But the doubts lingered, whispering in the back of her mind.
Skunk padded over, nudging her hand with his wet nose.Morgan looked down at him, his eyes full of unconditional love and trust.And for the first time in days, she felt herself truly breathe.
Morgan's fingers traced the outline of a tattoo on her forearm, a stark reminder of her time behind bars.She met Derik's gaze, her voice low and determined."You're right.I won't let this consume me.I can't."
She moved to the window, staring out at the dark Dallas skyline."But I can't pretend the past doesn't haunt me either.Every case, every victim...they're all ghosts I carry with me."
Derik approached, his reflection joining hers in the glass."We all have our ghosts, Morgan.It's how we choose to live with them that matters."
She turned to face him, her expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve."I keep thinking about Thomas.About my father.About all the things I couldn't prevent, the people I couldn't save.It weighs on me, Derik.Every damn day."
"I know," he said softly, reaching for her hand."But you're still here, still fighting.That's what matters."
Morgan squeezed his hand, drawing strength from his presence."I won't become Sarah Winters.I won't let my trauma define me or drive me to...to that."She shook her head, her voice growing stronger."But I won't ignore it either.I'll learn from it, use it to make me a better agent, a better person."
"That's the Morgan I know," Derik said with a small smile."The one I..."He hesitated, then pushed on."The one I love."
Morgan's breath caught in her throat.They'd never said those words before.She searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and warmth.Slowly, she nodded."I love you too," she whispered, the words feeling both foreign and right on her tongue.
She leaned in, resting her forehead against his."We'll carry this weight together," she murmured."All of it.The past, the present, whatever comes next.But we won't let it steer us down the wrong road."
Derik's arms encircled her, pulling her close."Together," he agreed.
As they stood there, holding each other in the dim light of her living room, Morgan felt a flicker of hope.The ghosts of her past might always be with her, but they didn't have to define her future.She could learn from them, grow stronger because of them.And with Derik by her side, she just might find a way to move forward, one step at a time.
The shrill ring of her phone shattered the moment.
Morgan glanced at the screen, her brow furrowing at the unfamiliar number.Hesitating for just a second, she swiped to answer.
"Agent Cross," she said, her voice clipped and professional.
There was a pause, a crackle of static, and then—
"Morgan."
The sound of that voice hit her like a physical blow.Her breath caught in her throat, her entire body going rigid.It couldn't be.After all these years, all the searching, all the dead ends...
"Dad?"she whispered, her voice barely audible.
