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She turned away from the board, her gaze sweeping over the empty room.The weight of unsolved cases, of unpunished crimes, seemed to press down on her shoulders.But mixed with that familiar burden was something else—a spark of determination, a fire that had been rekindled by this case.
The soft squeak of chair wheels broke Morgan's reverie.She glanced up to see Derik settling into the seat across from her, his green eyes shadowed with concern.His normally slicked-back hair was slightly disheveled, a testament to the long hours they'd both put in on the Reeves case.
Derik leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with the quiet intensity that had become so familiar over their years as partners.Morgan felt a twinge of guilt; she knew he was worried about her, about the walls she'd been building between them lately.
The silence stretched, neither of them willing to break it first.Morgan's gaze drifted back to the whiteboard, to Reeves's mugshot staring back at her.She could feel Derik's eyes on her, patient, waiting.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and gravelly with fatigue."You need rest, Morgan.We both do."
She turned back to him, noting the lines of exhaustion etched around his eyes."I know," she admitted, surprising herself with how easily the words came."I just...I can't shake this feeling.Like we're missing something."
Derik leaned forward, elbows on his knees."We got him, Morgan.Reeves is behind bars.It's over."
"Is it?"she murmured, more to herself than to him.She shook her head, trying to clear the fog of fatigue and doubt."You're right.I need sleep.We both do."
A ghost of a smile touched Derik's lips."There's the voice of reason I've been missing."
Morgan felt an answering smile tug at her own mouth, despite the heaviness in her chest."Don't get used to it.I'm sure I'll be back to my stubborn self after a few hours of sleep."
Derik stood, stretching his tall frame."I've got a few errands to run, but I'll stop by your place later.Make sure you're actually resting and not burning the midnight oil on some new lead."
"I promise," Morgan said, gathering her things."I'll be there, probably passed out on the couch with Skunk using me as a pillow."
As she stood, the weight of the case seemed to settle on her shoulders like a physical thing.She could feel Derik watching her, could sense the questions he wasn't asking.How much should she tell him about her father, about Cordell?The secrets pressed against her tongue, begging to be shared.
Instead, she forced a smile."I'll see you later, then?"
Derik nodded, his eyes never leaving hers."Count on it."
Morgan headed for the door, feeling the pull of exhaustion with every step.As she reached the threshold, she paused, looking back at Derik.He was still watching her, concern etched in every line of his face.
"Derik," she said softly."Thank you.For everything."
He nodded, a warmth in his eyes that made her heart ache.As she stepped out into the corridor, Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that something was shifting, that the ground beneath her feet was no longer as solid as she'd once believed.But for now, sleep called, and she had promises to keep.
***
The city lights blurred into a hazy glow as Morgan navigated the rain-slicked streets.Her grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white against the black leather.The case might be closed, but the weight of it still pressed down on her, mingling with the exhaustion that seemed to seep into her very bones.
"Get it together, Cross," she muttered to herself, rolling her shoulders in a futile attempt to ease the tension.
As she pulled into her driveway, the porch light flickered to life, triggered by the motion sensor.Morgan sat for a moment, staring at the front door of her home.It should have felt welcoming, but something about it set her nerves on edge.
"You're just tired," she told herself, forcing her body into motion."Derik's right.You need sleep."
She grabbed her bag and stepped out into the damp night air.The scent of rain lingered, heavy and oppressive.Morgan fumbled with her keys, the silence pressing in around her.It wasn't until she pushed open the front door that she realized what was wrong.
Silence.Complete and utter silence.
"Skunk?"she called out, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the darkened house."Here, boy."
Nothing.No click of nails on hardwood, no excited whine, no wagging tail thumping against the wall.Morgan's hand instinctively moved to her hip, fingers brushing against her holstered weapon.
"This isn't right," she thought, her mind racing through possibilities."He always comes.Always."
Her FBI training kicked in, every sense on high alert.She moved carefully through the entryway, eyes scanning for any sign of disturbance.The house felt wrong, the air thick with an unseen threat.
"Skunk?"she called again, softer this time.Her free hand reached for the light switch, hesitating for just a moment before flicking it on.
The sudden brightness revealed nothing out of place, but it did nothing to ease the knot of dread forming in her stomach.Morgan's thoughts turned to Cordell, to her father's warnings.Had she been too careless?Too confident?
"Focus," she chided herself."Clear the house.Find Skunk.Then worry about the rest."
But as she moved deeper into her home, Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change.Again.And this time, she wasn't sure she was ready for what was coming.
Then, a soft whine pierced the silence.Morgan's head snapped towards the sound, her heart pounding.A lamp flickered to life in the living room, casting long shadows across the floor.Every muscle in her body locked into place as she turned, her hand gripping her gun.
The sight that greeted her made her blood run cold.
Richard Cordell sat on her couch, legs crossed, exuding an air of calm expectation.