MO GRÁ | Derek Morgan

chapter twenty eight

one month later:

As I approached Elliot's front door, I fumbled with the keys in my pocket, the weight of the grocery bags pulling at my arms. It had been a month since I started staying with him, in separate bedrooms of course.

Unlocking the door, I stepped inside and dropped the bags on the floor, taking a moment to collect my thoughts and give my arms a break. Just as I reached for the bags again, my phone buzzed. I sighed, pulling it from my pocket and answering. "Hey, Elliot."

"Hey, Leah. What are you up to?" he asked, as I made my way to the kitchen with the groceries. "I just got back from the store—" I started, but he cut me off.

"Two female agents from the BAU came into the department," he said, and I felt my heart drop. "What? Why?" I questioned, anxiety creeping in.

"I don't know. I couldn't hear much. But stay inside, okay? I'll call you back when I find out more."

"Yeah, okay." I tucked my phone back into my pocket and began sorting through the groceries when it buzzed again. Even though I was thankful Elliot had gave me this, it was a headache. Rolling my eyes, I pulled it out, noticing a message from Mark saying he'd left the airport.

I spent the next few minutes looking out the window, tidying up as I awaited him to arrive. Finally, I spotted Mark's car, and before he even reached the door, I had it open. "Hey!" His smile lit up his face as he rushed toward me, pulling me into a tight embrace. "Leah, what's going on?" He stepped back, his eyes scanning my face for answers.

Taking a deep breath, I knew this conversation was going to be difficult. "Come inside." We walked back into the house, and I led him to the kitchen where my groceries lay scattered. "Want something to eat?"

"Yeah, sure." He settled at the kitchen table, and I hesitated, dreading what I had to say. "It's about Killian. He came back.... And he won't leave me alone."

Mark's expression shifted, anger and disbelief flashing across his face. "Killian, Killian? Like the one we know? Leah, what the hell are you talking about?"

I took another deep breath, forcing my voice steady. "He showed up at my apartment, claiming he wanted to talk. Then, at the coffee shop. I thought maybe meeting him could end all of this, but it only got worse. He forced me to leave with him."

"What did he want? Where did he take you? When did all of this happen?" Mark asked, his tone low and measured. I swallowed hard, the memories flooding back. I couldn't tell him what happened in that house, no one could ever know. "He wanted information about the FBI investigation. He believed I knew something that could help him, and it happened a month ago."

"And you ran away?"

"Yeah," I admitted, "I managed to escape from the hotel and come here. I thought I would be safe with Elliot, but now I'm not so sure."

Mark reached across the table, concern etched on his face. "Why haven't you gone to the police?"

I sighed, laying out the ingredients for sandwiches. "I've done some things—some incriminating things. I know he'll tell the police."

"What did you do?" His tone turned firm. "What do you want to do? You can't hide forever."

"I can't tell you, Mark... I just can't."

He nodded, his expression softening. "But you will tell me, right?"

"Yes," I replied, nodding, though doubts lingered in my mind. "I promise."

< 𝑀𝑜 𝒢𝓇𝒶 >

Later that evening, as I sat on the couch with Mark, I shared stories of my recent cases—the last few I'd worked before I left—while he filled me in on his surgeries. "How's Derek?" I asked, glancing over.

He shook his head, looking down. "What?" I pressed, sensing he was holding back. I nudged his shoulder playfully, coaxing him to share. "Derek left Addison for an intern," he said, a grin breaking through. I shook my head in disbelief. "I thought they were done after you slept with Addison."

He rolled his eyes, a smile still on his face. "So did I.
They tried to work it out."

"Yeah, and that always works, doesn't it?"

"Well, in our cases... no," he replied. "But everyone deserves a second chance, Leah."

"Or a fourth?" I teased.

"Okay, okay! What do you want to eat?" He stood up and walked toward his phone. "Pizza?" I suggested, and he nodded. "Great, I already know where to call." He began dialing before bringing the phone to his ear.

As I sat on the couch, halfway through a movie, I heard the front door click open. "Hey!" I called out, glancing back from the screen. Elliot walked in, a smile breaking across his face as he spotted Mark, who was now standing in the kitchen on the phone. "Looks like he made it in fine."

I nodded, shifting my gaze to Mark. "Yeah, he did. He's ordering pizza."

Elliot chuckled lightly, his eyes scanning the room. "Didn't you just say you got groceries?" I shrugged playfully. Just then, Mark hung up, walking over to us and extending his hand toward Elliot. "Mark Sloan."

Elliot shook his hand firmly. "Elliot Stabler. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Mark replied. "I wanted to say I really appreciate what you're doing for Leah."

"It's no problem. Plus, I like the company," Elliot said, shooting me a playful smirk. Mark laughed, leaning against the wall.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang, breaking the conversation. "I'll get it!" Mark exclaimed, moving toward the door. While he was at the door, I turned to Elliot. "I'm really glad you finally met Mark."

"Yeah, me too," he said, glancing around the room. "You've made this place feel really homey."

"Thanks! I try," I replied, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks. Mark returned, pizza in hand. "Pizza's here!" he announced, setting the box on the coffee table.

"Perfect timing," I said, rubbing my hands together in anticipation. "I'm starving."

Elliot chuckled again. "You and me both."

Mark grabbed his wallet, heading toward the door again. "I'll pay for it. You guys can start without me."

"Wait, I'll help," I said, following him.

"No," he insisted, waving me off. "I got it."

"Mark, did you know Elliot is a pineapple-on-pizza person?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as he walked back and sat next to me.

I laughed, shaking my head. "No way! That's sick."

Elliot grinned. "You just have to try it. Have you ever tried it?" Mark shook his head, grabbing a slice.

"Exactly! So how can you say it's sick?" Elliot shrugged, and I playfully rolled my eyes, finishing my first slice.

"I just know." Mark chuckled. We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the atmosphere peaceful, a momentary escape from the chaos outside.