A/N: Here's the last chapter! I'm just as ready as y'all are to get past all this angst!

Penelope, not able to hear more of Desiree's confession, went looking for Derek and Fran. She wanted to make sure they were okay. How long had they been talking? Ten minutes? Twenty? She had no idea.

Peeking out of the window, she saw Fran on the porch alone. Confused, she hurried to the redhead's side, her concern evident. "Fran?" Penelope asked gently. "Where's Derek?"

It took her a second to answer. "He left," she whispered finally.

"Left?" Penelope asked in confusion. "Where did he go? Did you guys talk?"

She sat beside the woman on the porch swing, not letting go of her hand for a second. "We talked," Fran explained. "Derek was upset. He took off. I don't know where he went."

Penelope's eyebrows rose. Where in the heck would Derek go to cool off? This revelation was outright horrible. Did he know about Desiree and the horror she experienced? How upset was he exactly? What did he know?

"He doesn't have his phone either," Fran continued, her nose clogged. "If you go looking for him, you can take my car."

"Really?" Penelope asked and Fran nodded. "Thank you. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

"I texted you an address," she said. "Go there. I know my son. It's the only place in Chicago he'd go in a time like this."

"Alright," Penelope replied, taking the outstretched keys. Then: "Rossi's inside with Sarah and Desiree. They're pretty upset."

Fran nodded and stood. "I better go talk with them," she said. "Good luck Penelope."

With that said, the redhead headed inside and Penelope turned on her heel to the car in the driveway. She had to find Derek. And Fran needed to calm Desiree down.

Fran entered one of the back rooms to find her daughters in the comfort of the man she loved. Both of the women were tucked under his arms, softly crying. Rossi offered her a sad smile, knowing that her conversation with Derek couldn't have gone well.

She cleared her throat, getting the women's attention immediately. Sarah, as soon as she saw her mother, ran to her.

"I'm so sorry Mom," she said, hugging her tightly. "I wish I would have known sooner. I could've helped you all these years…I never knew…"

"There's nothing more you could've done," Fran reassured her. "You've been wonderful all these years, Sarah. You were much too young when your father died to help me grieve and figure things out. Besides, I know how much you care for both of us. Your father would be proud."

"Are you sure?" Sarah asked. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Yes," Fran said. "There is one thing though. I want you to focus on the father you loved. Not the one that I described today. That wasn't who Charlie was or what he would've wanted. When you remember him, think of the man who tucked you in at night and kept you safe."

The word "safe" made everyone look at Desiree. Charlie had definitely not kept her safe that night he held her at gunpoint.

"I know you're haunted by that memory," Fran said to her. "I am too by my own. We can't live in fear or hatred though. You know that, Des. We're still a family. We'll get through this. We can see a counselor, if you need. We can even take some time before we talk about your father again. Either way, you have to forgive him."

Desiree only nodded, wiping her tears away. "I know," she said. "I forgave him a long time ago. As soon as that man came to the house to tell us he was dead, I forgave him. It...it just hurts to talk about it again. It's been so long."

"We won't make that mistake again," Fran said, drawing the women close. "We'll talk about our problems head on now. I promise."

The three of them hugged then. When they parted, Sarah laughed nervously and said: "I'm sure Rossi can mediate our conversations and help us sort out our problems. He's done that today already. I can't thank you enough, Dave."

Rossi waved her off. "It was just what needed to be done," he said. "Besides, I'm not much of a mediator away from an unsub. I need a police office and a criminal charge to figure things out."

Desiree perked up suddenly. "Where's Derek?" she asked. "Is he upset?"

Fran winced. "Oh yes," she said. "Very upset. He took off. He thinks he's too much like Charlie."

"What?" Sarah cried. "That's crazy! Derek's always been more like you, anyway."

"I know," she replied. "He knows that too, deep down. He's just upset and shocked is all. Penelope is going after him now. She'll bring him home. I know that."

Rossi nodded. "Trust your mother," he said. "Penelope has a way with Derek. No matter what, she'll help him through this. She's done so much for him over the years regarding Carl and the other things he's experienced."

They nodded. "Alright," Sarah said. "Let's start hoping for a miracle. I want Derek home."

Fran smiled for the first time that afternoon. "Well, when it comes to Penelope, a miracle is very possible."

Penelope drove carefully, sure to follow the directions Fran devised for her earlier. A left at the red light by their house. Go three blocks into town and make a right at the flower shop. Go down the road until the houses stop. Then she would be where Derek was.

Sure enough, ten minutes later Penelope parked in front of a cemetery. She knew without asking that Charlie Morgan was buried somewhere here. It was also obvious that Derek had ran here in his upset.

She hopped out of the vehicle, hurrying down the rows to the opposite end, where Derek stood talking to a tombstone.

"Did you know what you were doing, Dad?" she heard him saying. "Did you ever remember what you did to Mom and Desiree?"

Penelope stopped nearby, not sure if approaching Derek was wise. He seemed far too upset to talk, and he needed this one sided conversation with Charlie.

"I just don't understand it," Derek said. "I don't understand how you could never get help. Why didn't you believe Mom? She's the most honest person I know."

Penelope walked closer, careful not to make any noise. Derek knew she was there though.

"Go away Penelope," he said. "I don't want to talk to anyone right now."

"I'm not going anywhere," Penelope said. "You need to talk to someone. Especially now of all times. Your mom told me that you guys talked about your father."

"Yeah," he said. "We did. Mom told me all about his PTSD and what he did to Desiree."

"I'm so sorry," Penelope said, drawing closer to him. She tried to hug him, but he backed away.

"Don't," he said. "Don't touch me. Please don't make this any harder than it has to be for me, Penelope. Please."

"Make what harder?"

"We can't be together," Derek said. "What happened last night can never happen again. I refuse to be that close to anyone, especially you. I don't want to hurt you. Alright?"

"What?" Penelope cried. "WHAT? You're ending things with me?"

"I have to."

"No you don't!" she yelled. "Derek, we can be together. I can help you through this. What happened last night was wonderful. It was the best night of my life. I'm sure it was of yours too. How could you even dream of ending things?"

"What if I kill you?" Derek boomed, losing his temper completely. "What if I wake up one day and think you're Carl Buford?"

"Derek..." Penelope started but he powered over her. He was too upset to listen to reason of any kind, no matter how crazy he sounded.

"What if I hurt you?" he continued. "How am I supposed to live with myself if I hurt you?"

"You wouldn't hurt me," she said, walking into his arms. He stood stiffly, and Penelope tried to embrace him. He wouldn't have it though.

"You don't know that," he said. "I don't know that either. I could snap at any moment, Penelope. Do you realize how serious this is?"

"I trust you," she said. "Derek, please. You take precautions, and Hotch watches for this kind of thing with us. He knows the symptoms of PTSD and how it can be treated."

"Mom looked up information too," Derek countered. "It didn't help my father one bit to hear the facts or know where he could go get help. He didn't even believe her."

"You are not your father," Penelope said, starting to get angry with him. "You know when and how to get help. That's what makes you different."

He just shook his head at her. "It's over," he said. "I'm sorry. I can't and I won't put you through what my father put my family through. It isn't right. I've seen too many horrible things to make you relive with me."

Derek walked away from the graves and toward the woods. Penelope struggled to keep up with him. "Derek, please. Wait a second. Please just hear me out."

She was crying now. Sobbing, she could barely speak above a whisper: "Derek," was all she could say. "Please."

It was the agony in her voice that made him stop. Derek stood silently, not able to turn around, and wanting nothing more than to comfort her.

"You said you didn't want to hurt me," Penelope cried. "What do you think you're doing now? Just the thought of you leaving me is the worst pain you could put me through."

At first, Derek didn't say anything. He struggled to keep his own tears in check, and he wished things could be alright between them again. It wasn't that simple though. His mother's secret weighed on him so heavily that he couldn't breathe.

He felt like he was suffocating.

"My father almost killed Desiree," Derek finally said quietly. "He pointed a loaded gun at her. If she hadn't fought, she wouldn't be here right now. That could be you, Penelope."

She approached him slowly, listening as he continued his ramble. "Dad used to punch and kick my mother. I watched him. He thought she was the criminals he chased on the street. He...he was so far gone that he didn't know that it was her anymore."

Penelope reached out to him. Her fingertips brushed his arm, and she was surprised when he didn't pull away. It seemed her words were starting to break through to him.

"We can keep an eye on your behavior," she said. "We have therapists at the Bureau you can visit to work through this and any difficult cases. You have me too. I'll always listen and try to help you in any way I can. You know that."

Derek turned around and looked at her. At first, his expression was unreadable. She could see the pain in his eyes, but something else echoed back at her. Something that she hadn't seen before. Was it understanding?

"I love you," he said. "You know that, right?"

"Of course."

"I'm sorry I'm being a dick," he continued. "I just... this is a lot to take in. I always thought my parents had a happy relationship. That they were so in love. I guess I was wrong, huh?"

"I think they were happy," she said. "I've seen pictures of them together. They looked thrilled to have such a wonderful family."

It was then that Derek pulled Penelope into his arms. He instantly felt the weight on his lungs lessen, and he no longer felt like he couldn't breathe. Maybe he could go on and have his happily ever after.

He kissed her. It was just a peck, but it was still a sweet gesture. He watched Penelope's eyes light up and she stood on tiptoe to kiss him again.

"We'll get through this," she said. "Together. I promise you that."

"I know we will," he said and laced their fingers together. "You always did have a way of helping me work through the tough stuff." Then: "Should we head back to the homefront now? Maybe we need a game night with Rossi to cheer everyone up. Keep our minds on something else, you know? "

She looked at him in surprise. "What?" he asked. "I have to forgive him eventually. Besides, he's crazy about my mom. And, well, he's good for her. She needs someone like him, just like I need someone like you."

"I see," Penelope said, grinning up at him. "And Derek?"

"Yes?" he asked, leading her out of the woods and toward Fran's car.

"I love you too."

Derek laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, knowing that this is what true happiness and bliss felt like.

A/N: Thank you for reading!