𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐄, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 • 𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍

RECKLESS

[Warnings: Self-harm references]

—

Right after him; I just jumped. Air carried my body as silent hopes ran through me. Michaelson, the unsub landed hard on the next building as he took the first jump. The impact had hit him hard as it did the same to me, pressure taking over my oxygen for a second. Still then, I tussled with him, gaining the upper hand and putting my cuffs around his broad wrist. I heard the way Hotch and Morgan screamed at me as I brought the both of us up in the air and was met with their angry faces by the time I walked Michaelson outside into the county car.

"Y/L/N," Hotch's tone ran cold as he walked up to the ambulance my foot was being checked out. I didn't want to look him in eye, knowing what I'd be able to read on his face. Annoyance, disappointment, and worry, already spoke his tone and the rest of his sentence.

"You disobeyed my orders to stand down and turned this into a suicide mission. We'll talk about the path course when we get back to Quantico but I am taking you off active cases until a clear focused evaluation." He exasperates into words and then walks away.

I look at the EMT who shoots me a look and gives me the ok about my foot before Morgan is on my ass.

Again.

"I don't have time for this Morgan." My foot gives me the ultimate "fuck you," as it slows me down and the toned man steams from his ears in anger right in front of me.

"Third case you pulled some shit like this," He leans in. "I knew from the beginning you weren't a good fit for this team, no matter what your file says. You just don't know teamwork."

Basic insults he throws at me every time.

"No, I'm just not Emily." Regret slowly fills me as Morgan's face changes and his grip on my arm becomes sudden. Fear drowns out everything else as he threatens me for bringing up her name. He compared me to her for the last 4 months and within my silence, my thoughts took over my words.

I just nod my head, his words falling deaf as all I feel are the moon-shaped nail marks he left.

The worst part isn't that he hurt me. It's that I liked it. The way missed pain brung my arm joy causes me a spaced moment from the crime scene back to the hotel. I rubbed my arm gently and rolled up my sleeve once the door shut behind me. Old scars ran up and down my arm until Derek's newest marking found its place. It wasn't going to stay like the ones I'd done myself but the inflammation of the area only brought back flashbacks. 

I dreaded packing up my bag and heading back to the airplane. Derek's attitude toward me was very adamant, even on the airplane where I didn't bother to glance at him a look. His hatred fell strong for me but I was better than his thoughts and I had proven myself again and again to this team. 

Back at the bullpen, everyone did their reports and slowly one by one the team went home. Spencer, Aaron, Derek, and I were the only ones left and once Spencer finished, Hotch didn't wait for a second to call me into his office. 

I just couldn't finish those damn reports fast enough. 

I knocked before I pushed the cracked door open and sat down. The first thing that caught my eye was the full manila folder on Aaron's desk with my name on it. It didn't take a genius with a 180 IQ to know it was my file. 

From hospital mandates to senior recommendation letters, my file has gotten me a long way. Aaron waits a minute but proceeds with "his path course." 

"As I stated before, I'm removing you from active duty until your scheduled evaluation with Dr. Jan next Tuesday. You will have paid leave for the next following 5 days but failure to comply with your evaluation puts you on unpaid probationary leave. " He looks into my eyes as he explains to me more and more about my reckless behavior and the "serious concern," that it brought the team for my welfare. 

"This is a family that you're a part of Y/N." Words tread ever so slowly. "Families work together and think of this as a breather and not a punishment. " I stay silent and take my deemed paperwork before I leave Hotch's office. 

I make instant eye contact with Derek as he's in the kitchenette not bothering to hide the fact that he was waiting for my outcome. I say nothing to him and pack away my desk, locking my computer and putting all my unfinished work in my bag. 

I'm almost out the door before Hotch calls my name once more and I turn on my heels. 

"Leave your badge Y/N." His head goes back into his office and I see Derek's grin come across his face. 

My credentials and badge sit plainly on my desk before I finally escape to my car. I space my drive, my mind on autopilot mode before I'm pulling into my building garage and opening my front door. 

The longest shower couldn't wash the dread off my body. I go against a shower and run the bath. Steam arises fasters than the water and fogs up the mirror that hovers over the sink. I open it to clean it and my hand knocks down one of my med bottles. 

The shelves fill themselves with my meds and the antidepressants I knock down find their way back. I strip in my room, catching glimpse of my flawed body. My flawed outsides matched my flawed insides and that simple thought only brought peace. 

Looking past more medication on my dresser, I pull out some sleep clothes, only consisting of panties and a tee, and sink into the running bathtub. It's silent when the water goes off and at first, I just float. The water ripples in my movements and the more I sink, the high the water goes. 

Past my neck; I'm counting to ten. 

Past my nose; I've reached 5. 

The last of my hair comes down with me at the end of my count and I float. I stay under and my mind floats far past Derek's insults and far past the BAU. I stay floating for as long as my lungs give me, trying to get past the overwhelming feeling of lost before I come back up. 

Give me 5 days of peace or hell Derek Morgan, but you will not get rid of me. 

—

[MMY]