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The Derek Morgan Chronicles Fan Fiction*

By Cynthia FieldsPublished 3 years ago Updated about a year ago 5 min read
Photo by Sam Moqadam on Unsplash

Abigail hated mornings. She absolutely hated mornings! Give her the darkest of the dark midnights, anything was better than mornings. Morning was when the soot and wet mud of her pain made it hard to breathe. Those things that she wrestled with during her sleep, created by the hurt and rejection and failures of her daytime settled. Settled like cement in her lungs making it hard to breathe. Now here she was, wide awake not yet ready to climb out of bed to begin a day that promised to be just like the day before. Abigail grabbed the near-empty water bottle that sat on the nightstand and drained it. This was her morning routine, she needed to cough, a big loud coughing fit to clear her lungs so that she could refill them with fresh air, enough to give her the strength to get up and get moving.

Never in her wildest dreams did Abigail expect to end up here alone, defeated, broken and broke. She'd paid last month's bills draining her accounts to just enough to keep them open. Now what?

Abigail had enough energy to move to the couch grabbing the remote as she tucked her feet under herself. She found the local news and the story of the most devastating night of her life lit up the screen. Nothing had been said about her or the fact that her life had been destroyed. She felt the anger boil inside as the face of her husband's mug shot and the FBI agent's face filled the screen. She sat motionless as each picture depicted a man suspected of killing nearly a dozen women being pulled handcuffed toward a patrol car. Lights and blaring sirens and media stood around the perimeter recording the scene as it unfolded. Then it was him, Derek Morgan standing before a group of reporters boasting of bringing the man to justice. A monster, that's how he was referred to by the muscular confident man who had days before stood in front of the press promising to bring Niles Berger, her husband to justice.

Niles was her world. They'd met in high school and he was the bad boy who'd caught the church girl's attention. Abigail's father had been the pastor of a small church just outside of Quantico, but she was no angel. Her parents had been strict, devout Christians and she had rebelled against their rules; Niles was the ultimate stand against the two zealots who seemed almost cruel in the eyes of a young girl in love. Had they been alive now, Abigail wondered what they would think.

Home of Derek Morgan -

Penelope felt her husband pulling away from her the moment the victims' faces were illluminated across the board in the conference room. Eleven women each possessed a striking resemblance to her had been kidnapped, raped, tortured and killed. Their bodies dumped outside of Quantico in shallow graves. The battered bodies and faces made her cringe. She watched Derek's face grow stone-like and he jumped when she placed her hand on his arm. That was the moment, that unrestrained and unintentioned pull away from her; he'd changed and shut down, she knew why. He saw her face in the faces of the victims and she understood but it didn't lessen the hurt and pain she felt having the man she loved close himself off to her.

Penelope didn't want to take it personally, but how else could she take it? They'd always been there for each other and they had seen the best and worst of times together. What was different about this time? He'd seen worse in other cases and the fact that the victims were blondes wasn't new either. As much as she hurt for herself, she hurt more for him. The pain and horror was in his eyes, the way he carried himself and in his silence.

The nightmares kept him awake all night. The faces of the women, black and blue disfigured by a cruel sick monster, reminded him of what could happen if he slept, if he got careless. Penelope and their unborn child meant everything to Derek; everything. Seeing the faces, her face made him more detrmined to keep her safe. Focus was everything...focus...focus.

Penelope stepped out of the shower and stood before the mirror that was obscured by warm steam. She didn't have to open the door, she knew he was already gone. Wiping the steam from the mirror, she stared at her expanding belly. It seemed to grow larger by the day. This was her fifth month. She loved how Derek would touch her belly and talk to their son as if he was already here. Tears ran down her face unnoticed as she thought about the man who meant everything to her. Absently rubbing her hand across her stomach, it suddenly came to her why he was pulling away from her. She'd been so consumed with her hurt feelings, trying to figure out why he had lost confidence in her, in them.

The last victim was pregnant, just like she was pregnant. Five months along with a boy...just like her. It wasn't the fact that the victims were blonde and curvy, spitting images of her. No, that wasn't it. It wasn't all of the dead women, that sent him spiraling into a dark place. It was just one, the last one. Blonde, brown-eyed...pregnant...

"Oh my God!"

Home of Abigail Berger -

She'd heard and seen the evidence against Niles, he'd been painted a monster, yet he was still her husband, the love of her life. Abigail was committed to standing by him no matter what. Part of proving her loyalty to a man who always made her feel thirsty for his love and affection, was to destroy Derek Morgan; to take what was the most important thing in his life. The agent had arrogantly promised the public, that he was going to bring Niles Berger to justice and when he indeed captured him, he boasted before the world.

Abigail took a sip of her coffee and began to plan revenge. She'd make her promises too and when she destroyed his world, she would take great satisfaction in watching him crumble before her eyes.

"I'll make him pay, Niles...I promise, he will pay!" be continued

*Disclaimer: The Derek Morgan Chronicles is fan fiction based on the CBS Crime drama, Criminal Minds. We do not own Criminal Minds or its characters.

fan fiction

About the Creator

Cynthia Fields

I adore words and I love what happens when we grab them, sleep with them, holler and scream and laugh at them! I love what happens when we throw them in the air and watch them fall magically from our minds onto paper!

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