Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.

Three Years

By
N. J. Borba

The jet was quiet and dark as Derek made his way to the back of the aircraft. Everyone on the team was curled up and resting, except for the woman at the rear of the plane. He slipped into the seat beside her. Emily didn't move or respond to his presence. Her eyes remained focused on the gray clouds outside the plane's small window, which her head rested against. He reached across her lap to take her hand, but she pulled away. A heavy sigh escaped her lips.

"Please don't do this," Derek whispered. "Don't pull away from me."

"We made a promise to Hotch a long time ago that our personal lives would not interfere with the job," Emily whispered.

He was just glad she'd spoken at all, even if her tone was distant. "The job is over," Morgan countered. "We're headed home. And everyone on this jet knows that case must have been hard on you. It was hard on all of us. JJ and Hotch are both parents, too. They feel every loss just as deeply."

She finally turned to face him. "But they don't know, Derek. They've never lost a child the way we lost Sammy."

"Maybe not," he was glad she was talking, even using their daughter's name. "But they lost Sammy along with us. We all grieved for her."

Emily shifted so her head rested against his shoulder. "I'm not sure if I can keep doing this job," she whispered.

Morgan smoothed a hand over the back of her head. "I think you can, but it's okay if you don't want to any more. You should know by now that I'll stand by you no matter what you decide," he responded in a supportive manner. "If you want to keep chasing down these creeps, I'll be right with you. And if you want to stay home, I'm fine with that too."

"I don't know," her tune changed a little. "It kills me a little, each case, whether it's kids or adults," Emily sighed. "But then I can't help think that if we're not there to help stop these guys then it could be so much worse," she reasoned.

"That, my dear," he kissed her temple, "Is what is known as a double edged sword."

A small smile bloomed. "Indeed," Emily agreed.

Derek was glad to have her talking through it, but he knew what she needed more than anything. "We'll be home in about an hour, and then I can show you the real reason we keep doing all this. Until then, you should try to get some rest," he implored.

Her eyes slid shut. "Not sure what I'd do without you," she whispered.

His lips curled as his eyes closed, too. "The feeling is mutual," he replied. Derek listened as her breathing eventually evened out. He didn't sleep, but he was glad that Emily managed to rest for nearly the whole hour before they hit the tarmac. After a brief farewell to their friends and co-workers, Derek guided his wife to their waiting vehicle. He drove them back to the small house he'd fixed up years ago. Since Emily's first visit there it had gained new granite countertops and hardwood floors. It was home.

Morgan carried their bags inside and dropped them beside the door. He was momentarily morose over the fact that there were no clomp-clomp footsteps or soft jangle from Clooney's collar to greet them. But the old dog had lost his battle nearly six months ago. He and Emily walked hand-in-hand through the house's entry and noticed the stream of light coming from their living room. "Hey," a voice softly called to them.

Garcia and Kevin exited the living room to greet their friends. "Sorry we're so late," Emily apologized.

"No worries," Penelope insisted, giving them both a quick hug. "I've only been here a few hours since the case ended. But Kevin, the great babysitter that he is, had her fed and bathed by the time I arrived. Me thinks that little one has him wrapped about her tiny finger," the tech mused.

Kevin chuckled. "It goes both ways," he insisted.

"We're gonna head home now," Garcia said. "But I thought I should let you know she's in your bed. I figured you'd want her there tonight," the woman concluded.

They were already halfway up the stairs when they heard the front door close and the lock click. Emily entered her room and immediately kicked her shoes off. She didn't bother with anything else as she sunk down on the king-sized bed and settled beside her sleeping daughter. Derek took up the same position on the child's opposite side. The eighteen month old lay there on her back dressed in pink cotton PJs with cupcakes on them. Her left thumb was suckled by rosy lips.

Emily placed a hand gently atop the girl's chest, making sure it was rising and falling in perfect motion. The little girl's long, delicate eyelashes rested against her chubby cheeks. A mess of dark, curly hair resided atop her head. And her bronzed skin was the perfect blend of both her parents. "She's so beautiful," Morgan whispered. "Like her mama," he added. "But that thumb sucking thing is gonna mess up her teeth."

"I still think it's more natural than plastic pacifiers," Emily defended.

He didn't bother to argue, happy to be home with his girls. "Then you can pay Princess Belle's orthodontia bills when she's older," Derek said.

She grinned, but her thoughts turned as she continued to stare at the little girl sleeping so peacefully. Emily couldn't help think about those lost children on their most recent case. And she couldn't help thinking about her other baby girl. "Do you ever wonder if Anabelle feels her sister's loss?" she asked. "They spent all that time together in utero. And some say twins share a pretty powerful bond," she sighed. "I just hope she doesn't feel sad the way we do over losing Samantha."

Derek caressed the girl's feather soft cheek. "I imagine she has some inkling of loss, but she probably won't remember Sammy. When she's older we can tell her." He looked to Emily again, seeing a little less sorrow on her face. But even a year and half removed from the happy and tragic day their girls were born, she hadn't fully healed. "Tomorrow is Sunday, and I think the three of us should do something fun together," he suggested.

"What?" Emily asked, her eyes closing.

"It'll be a surprise," he insisted. Derek watched them both until Emily was fully asleep. Then he covered her and crawled back into bed, plotting their special day in his head.

True to his word, Derek had planned a simple Sunday afternoon for them, which led to him currently helping little Anabelle run from first to second base at the small ball field near their house. It was certainly not Wrigley Field, but watching his baby girl wobble on her short legs was thrilling in itself. "Come on, Belle," he encouraged, standing just a few feet in front of her while Emily hovered behind the girl.

"Derek, her legs are about four times shorter than yours," Emily noted. "You should hold her hand, she's going to fall."

"She'll be fine," he insisted. But about three seconds later the little girl toppled forward and landed on her hands and knees. Anabelle looked up at him for a moment like he was an idiot for not heading Emily's warning, and then she let go a huge wail. Derek scooped her up and held her against his chest, patting her back. "You're okay, baby," he soothed. Morgan could see the glare in Emily's eyes as she reached for the girl. "She's fine," he said, keeping hold of the girl.

"You let her fall," Emily growled.

Morgan walked the girl over to the blanket they had spread out. "I did not let her fall, Emily," he tried to keep his words civil as he examined his daughter for injury. "Not even a scratch," he reported, finally handing the child over to his overprotective wife. "I think we should get her ready for little league. I saw this cute baseball glove at the Sporting Goods store last week, it was pink leather with red stitching," Derek smiled, hoping to smooth over his wife's anger.

"Isn't little league for boys?" she asked, making her own check to assure the girl was fine. Anabelle was already squirming out of her arms, ready to take off again.

He shrugged. "I think they have co-ed leagues these days."

"But she's way too little. There are bats and balls and all sorts of things she could get hit with."

A deep breath was taken as he once again tried to deal with his cautious wife. "I agree that she's definitely a few years away from hitting her first home run, but we could start her off with some Nerf gear," Derek suggested.

"I don't know if this is a good idea, her and sports," Emily shook her head.

"Or anything that might give her as much as a scratch, like say… leaving the safety bubble of your arms," Derek guessed. "She's gonna fall and get bruised and hurt these next few toddler years. And even beyond that, Emily," he was tired of coddling both of them.

"I won't apologize," Emily stiffly replied. "Every time I think I'm over it, I realize I'm not."

Derek instantly felt bad for pushing the issue. "Emily, no one ever expects you to be over it. I'm not. I never will be, even though I know it was out of our control," he revealed. "But we cannot live in the past. And we've got Anabelle here with us. Alive. Walking. Talking. She is the most amazing little being. Every day I spend watching her grow and change, I'm blown away that we were blessed with this sweet, precious life. She's what we need to focus on now."

"She is pretty amazing," Emily agreed, watching as the girl sat and plucked tuffs of grass from the ball field. She then proceeded to stuff them in her mouth. Emily reached over to stop her, fearing the pesticides and fertilizer that the park might have used. Instead, Emily handed the girl a cookie. Then she laughed, wondering which was worse for the child.

"Cookie!" Anabelle exclaimed.

Morgan watched his two girls with amusement. "Do you remember what happened on this day three years ago?" he asked his wife.

"No," Emily replied, fishing through their bag for Belle's sippy cup.

His eyes widened a little. "Seriously, you don't?"

"Nope, sorry," she didn't even look at him as she tended to their daughter. "Was it something significant?"

He noticed the way her lips curled slightly. "You little liar," Derek dove for her, tackling her to the ground, though being careful not to bump into their daughter. Anabelle was busy gnawing on her cookie and giggling at them.

Emily grinned as she lay pinned beneath her husband. "Oh, wait, something is coming back to me now…" she paused for dramatic effect. "Three years ago you rescued me from chicken world domination. My hero," she sappily cooed the last two words.

"Is this what you plan to teach our daughter, the sass?" his head shook at her.

"Mama's little sass princess," Emily contemplated the idea. "I actually like that," she nodded.

He assaulted her with kisses. And, as their lips met in the familiar dance, Derek's thoughts retreated to the past once more. He recalled their first date and the high school play they'd gone to see. He broke off the kiss and looked down into her dark brown eyes. "When we went out on that first date together, you knew that night that you wanted a daughter named Anabelle someday didn't you?"

She smiled. "Well, it was always the plan. As you know, all women have these things mapped out from the time they're very little; the type of wedding dress they want, the names of the children they'll have," she finally managed to say children, plural, without growing saddened over their loss. Emily suddenly realized in that moment that triumph and pain walked hand-in-hand, just the way she and Derek did through life.

He nodded. "I know," Derek whispered as he moved in for another kiss. "And I'm glad you chose me to be a part of your plan."

"Me, too," Emily concluded.

The End (for real this time)