And So It Was

They'd retired from the BAU almost a decade ago, filling their days with long walks and trips to the library or the super market. However, since Derek's arthritis began to flare too often and Penelope's eyesight began to fade, their days had changed. They'd been spending less time outside and more time in the hospital for checkups and the like.

~*~*~

Derek Morgan had aged well: he had no hair, but he'd still maintained the set jaw and strong build of his youth. His eyes still twinkled, and true, it did take him longer to get out of bed, but he was still very much the same. His joints just creaked a little bit extra, and he couldn't kick down doors anymore, that was all.

He'd fallen into a depression. A dark daze. His days were a blur, starting with a drink and ending in a drink, which usually induced his troubled sleep. He was irresponsible, and pathetic, he knew, but he coped the only way he knew how. The vice helped him forget. It was an analgesic to the waves of loss clouding his mind every waking minute.

He sat at the table for breakfast, even though it was three in the afternoon, with a heavy heart. He stared at the empty seat across the table like he always does, has done for two years, letting the memory invade his thoughts.

Penelope couldn't cook. Still, he ate her eggs with vigor every morning. Each day she cooked them differently, and she sure didn't do it on purpose. Whether they were burnt beyond recognition or barely past salmonella, he consumed them, because she'd made them for him.

Penelope sat down to her toast, but decided she washungry for something else. She grabbed his hand and led him upstairs with a sly grin.

He misses her.

~*~*~

Derek shuffled outside, shivering in the breeze. He knocked on the door with a shaking hand. A forty-something year old woman answered. Her face clouded when she saw him.

"I don't mean to be a bother, but have you seen this girl?" he pointed to his picture of a younger, smiling, Penelope. Madelline glanced behind her, hoping something would come up and she'll have an excuse not to break his spirit. Derek didn't notice this and he continued to stare at her expectantly, hopeful.

"I'm sorry, she's not here." Madelline Davis said with regret. The look on his face almost made her wish she'd lied. Such a sad story, that one was. Thirty years, and then, poof, she was just. . gone. She'd had a heart attack. Madelline's heart squeezed every time she saw Mr. Morgan. Almost every day he came by, to look for her, forgetting that she was in Heaven.

Madelline closed the door with a sigh. Once again, she'd avoided doing the thing she'd resolved to do the first time she had seen Mr. Morgan, shuffling over to her house in search of his late wife, the photo flapping in the breeze.

Derek stumbled back to his house. He was weak; it showed in the grimace on his face and the pace at which he walked. He poured some Jack and downed it. He was weary, tired; so tired. His heart and his head and his limbs ached. He retired to his bed - an unlikely custom these days, for it was usually the easy chair or the couch- and slipped into a sleep he so desperately needed.

"Derek," he heard. He couldn't see anything but blinding white, as if he was staring directly into the sun. He then realized that the light was being caused by the light of her halo. He couldn't see her but he imagined she looks the way she did the day he first fell in love with her. She looked so beautiful then, he recalled. "Derek, I've done a terrible thing."

"It's okay, Baby Girl, it's okay." Derek murmured, tossing in his bed.

"The day I passed on, we argued about taxes. There had been a mistake that had lost us some money. Ninety-three dollars and fifty-four cents. Do you remember that? We argued about whose fault it was. Little did I know the last words I'd say to you were 'Fine, go'."
"And you did. I'm sure you didn't go far. You probably sat on that bench on the street corner, wanting to go back but not letting yourself, being the stubborn man you are. You always did go to that bench. I wanted so much to go out there and apologize, but I was stubborn and prideful as well. No one wants to admit to making a mistake."

"Derek, if I had only known…"

"It's all right, Penelope, it's all right." Derek mumbled in a half-dream state.

"I'm sorry." Derek closed his eyes tighter as he felt the light begin to grow stronger until it was filling up every inch of his vision. "It's time for you to come home. Home…"

That was how they found him. He died peacefully in his sleep, they said. Natural causes. The grocery boy had come over in the morning to give him the weekly groceries and when no one had answered, he called the paramedics.

Madelline wasn't upset when she heard. Relieved, yes. Saddened, maybe a little. Whatever sadness she felt was surely eclipsed by the joy she felt, knowing he was where he belonged; up in heaven with Penelope.
And so it was, they were together again.