BALLERINA - derek morgan

T W E N T Y

|| AUTHOR'S NOTE: guys i am SO freaking sorry for not updating for so long! depression has been kicking my ass lately and i haven't even had the motivation to take a shower, let alone work on this fic. i'm hoping to power through and finish this for you guys! you're all the best and you deserve my full efforts. thanks so so so much for your patience as i work through writing the rest of the story! ||

Derek Morgan rests peacefully in his hospital bed as the members of his team discuss the matter at hand in the hallway. Penelope watches worriedly as his eyes move back and forth beneath closed lids. His dark eyelashes brush the smooth skin just above his cheekbones as his jaw clenches involuntarily.

The melancholy woman at his bedside feels no positive emotions despite her brightly colored attire, her pink lips curled downwards into a rare frown. Her pale hand lightly wraps around the fingers of her dear friend, finding solace in the warmth that greets her gentle touch. The constant beep of the heart monitor simultaneously comforts and irritates her to no end.

Derek is alive.

To her that means the world, but the grim news the doctor had delivered looms over her head like a dark rain cloud.

He might not ever wake up.

And in the mind of Penelope Garcia, a world without Derek Morgan is not one that would be worth living in.

꧁꧁꧂꧂

Adaline Watson's POV

Slow motion.

My world seems to slow to nearly a stop as the tall figure strides across the room towards where I am barely holding in my terror. The tear that runs down my cheek drips off of my chin, rolling down along my collarbone before disappearing into the dark cloth of my bralette.

My hands tremble as I try to appear brave, my watery green eyes rising as the thick tension in the room increases; blood pounding in my ears. My uncertain gaze is met with sharply confident eyes of a familiar blue color.

"M-" I try to croak out the name, deleriously struggling to wet my painfully dry throat. "Myles? Listen, you've got to help me I've been-"

"Mother! I'm so happy that you're awake!" He interrupts as he rushes to the bed as he takes a seat upon the quilt near my hips. "How are you feeling?"

I close my eyes and take deep breaths, trying to regain composure under the watchful inspection of the man who I now know is responsible for turning the last few weeks of my life into a living hell. Each breath stabs at my wound as I try to recall everything I had overheard during my time at the BAU. They would tell me not to upset the UNSUB or otherwise interrupt his fantasy since being his "mother" was my best bet of getting out of this alive.

"I'm sore... and dizzy." I finally force myself to say, fighting my inner desire to yell and scream and lash out at the monster not even 12 inches from me. "Could I please have some water?"

He nods enthusiastically and darts over to the vanity table: upon which a crystalline carafe of water and matching cup are neatly placed.

Now, in any other situation I would know better than to accept food or drinks from someone who has abducted me. But this is different. Now that he has me, he'll never let me go by choice. He'll never kill me on purpose, or allow me to be taken away from him without putting up one hell of a fight.

I am drawn back to attention by the chime of glass being lightly tapped against glass, pinpointing the sound to be of Myles gently placing the lid back onto the pitcher and beginning to return to my bedside as he clutches the cup in pale fingers. I gently pull myself to lean against a fuzzy pink pillow that is propped against the headboard. I manage to get myself into a half-upright position, but not without sending searing pain throughout my body.

"Here, Mother," Myles gently says, leaning down to place the cup upon the small bedtable to my left. "You have to be careful not to hurt yourself too much."

As he straightens up, I catch a glimpse of a small silver key on a chain necklace that had fallen from the neck of his gray henley shirt when he bent to set the water down. He tucks it into his shirt once more as I casually reach for the glass, not giving any sign of what I had seen. There's chance of it being purely fashionable rather than an escape from this prison, but I take a mental note of it anyways.

"Thank you." I whisper, raising the rim to my lips with trembling hands as he watches with an approving smile on his face.

I'd be out of my mind to attempt escape so soon for a plethora of reasons. I wouldn't make it far in my injured state. I'm chained by the ankle. I have no way out the door. My best option is to lay low and try my hardest to avoid conflict until I'm either strong enough to fight to freedom or Derek and the team finds me.

Derek...

A sharp pain embraces my heart when I think of my last memory of Derek lying bloodied and weak upon the grass; the helpless look of remorse drowning out the courage his eyes once held.

Is he even still alive? Is he dead? Is he deserately clinging to life in an operating room somewhere?

... Is the team even looking for me? Am I going to become just another cold case file in their database?

"I'm so overjoyed that you're finally here with me," a smooth voice cuts into my frantic thoughts, bringing my mind back to this dusty basement. "I think we're going to have so much fun!"

I am barely able to bring myself to whisper the lie. "I think so too."