The scenic countryside soared past the small window to your right, in blurs of rich olive and emerald green. The shades blending together in a beautiful harmony, as their hues painted across the landscape that stretched far on either side of you. The sky; a pale pastel hue that stood soft as the backdrop to the breathtaking nature that engulfed the land. Allowing for the deep tones of evergreen and rich chartreuse to take center stage, as the bright April sun shone down upon the lush and bountiful land. The beauty soared past the window at a whirlwind speed that blurred the trees and the flourishing sweet spring grass, as though their mesmerizing shades were streaks in a watercolor. Each paintbrush dipped into a more stunning shade than the last, until they were all brushed against the same canvas. Blurring together the lines of their individuality, and allowing for their deep hues and soft undertones to meld them into a masterpiece all their own.

"It's breathtaking," Your soft voice flutters up into the comfortable silence, that had settled over your seats. A gentle smile playing at your lightly glossed lips, as your mesmerized eyes gaze out the window at the scene flying by.

"You don't quite see scenery like this in the city do you?" Derek Morgan's agreeance was softly spoken, as his words hummed in a light cloud over the top of your head. As his seat sat snuggly against the window's side, his left arm draped across the tops of your shoulders as his chin balanced gently on the top of your head that rested against his chest. Feeling the warmth of his flesh not only wrapped securely around you, but soaking up against your cheekbone from underneath his lightweight white cotton Henley. Inhaling the intoxicating and calming scent of his skin; the rich cologne that danced against his collarbone and the faint scent of peppermint that floated downward from his chewing gum. Feeling against the top of your head, as his jaw would chew against the pale blue bubble every so often. And as he spoke, a breath of cooling mint soared into your senses and awoke you even more to the comfort of his company and embrace.

"I still can't believe you've never ridden on a train before." Derek teases with a soft smirk playing at his lips. You can hear the playfulness in his tone and you can see the eyebrow raised look on his face, far before you lean away from his comfortable embrace. Resting your back against the soft padding of your own chair, as you angle your body at a slight slant to look at Derek easier.

"Maybe because my husband of three years, has never taken me anywhere that requires the transportation of a train ride."

Derek finds amusement in your frisky but harmless bite back, for his lips curve upward into a grin that shows off his sparkling pearly whites. His eyebrows raising in mock surprise, and a breath that teeters on the line of a light laugh, passes through his smile. "I take you places. What about our honeymoon, huh? Hawaii." 

Even as a playful smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, you can't help the small smile beginning to form as you stare at Derek's smiling face. Even through feigning annoyance, his charm is too strong to keep your coy façade up for very long.

"Mhm," You hum softly, with a gentle nod of your head. "Hawaii and Chicago. Which I both love and enjoy, but coming from the man who gets to travel to a different state nearly every week, you'd think our travel record might be a bit bigger."

"You make it sound like those are vacations for me," Derek expresses in a soft exhale, and his left hand darts out quickly to rest against the top of your thigh. Feeling the immediate warmth of his soft and faintly calloused flesh against the top of your exposed skin. The navy blue, floral chiffon long sleeve dress, raising a few centimeters to reveal some of the goosebumps risen on the side of your right thigh. The coolness of the air conditioning around you, sending slight shivers up your spine as the close windowpane grasps tightly to the chill still lingering in the early April air on the other side, adding to the coolness that swirls around you. But his hand gently resting against your leg, feels like laying beside a crackling fire in the middle of a cold winter. For it sends instant warmth not only up your flesh, but straight to your core. Warming you from the inside out. No longer feeling any bit of the chill in the air, only a slight sliver of cold metal resting against your skin, from the shiny brass band that wraps comfortably around his fourth finger. "I can assure you, I would much rather take sandy beaches or my childhood home over dead bodies and psychotic serial killers."

Tilting your head softly to the side, as your kind gaze washes over Derek's face, you drop any sign of teasing or coyness from your expression and voice. With a warm smile growing against your winter chapped lips, you rest your hands over his that sit rightfully on top of your thigh. Curling your fingers over and around the back of his hand, the tips of your fingers sliding over warm and incredibly smooth skin. Feeling the raised veins that run underneath, and the lines in the faint creases of his knuckles, as you grasp lovingly to his soft hold on your body.

"I know," Underneath your warm embrace, you tenderly squeeze his fingers. "I like staying in Virginia with you, it's home. And even if once and awhile I wish for sandy beaches or a resort up in the mountains, I think home is still my favorite place to have adventures with you."

The warmest and sweetest smile graces Derek's lips, and it's the smile you fell in love with. For it not only radiates from his perfect lips, expanding into a grin so grand that it nearly consumes the better half of his jaw, but glimmers in the depths of his beautiful brown eyes. For his love, when it comes to you, goes much deeper. It can't be contained or exhibited in that of a single smile. It sparkles in his eyes, like the moon reflecting on top of an ocean wave in the middle of the night. It emanates from him, a sudden warmth that bubbles up from the pit of his stomach and overwhelms his beating heart, until it can't be concealed within himself. And it slowly casts out like a ray of light, falling over you in a burst of heat that is palpable and allows you to nearly feel the extent of the love that boils inside of himself. It was with that smile, that you fell in love, and the same one he wore the day he proposed and made you his wife.

And slowly, as you feel his right hand reach over and rest warmly against the swell of your extended belly, it's the same loving smile he had the day the little life growing inside of you, popped up in those two little pink lines. "And what a damn adventure it is mama."

His fingers dance gently against the soft fabric covered bump, staring solely into your loving gaze, but you can't help but catch the edges of his lips extending further as he feels the familiar thumps against his hand's placement. Leaning down, engulfing you in the intoxicating cloud of his cologne, his lips softly meet your own. The warmth of his skin mixes with the coolness of peppermint, and the sensation is rousing. For the butterflies you've had since your very first date, flutter up into your chest as that stirring tingle races throughout your body. Even after all of the years and milestones you had been through together, his touch still set your body on fire. As though the tender trailing of his fingertip was enough to strike a match, and the brush of his lips across your own, was enough to set your heart ablaze. Even now, as your body swelled from the little one growing inside of you, he still made you feel exhilarated and loved in a way that you never knew was possible.

Derek kissed you softly, but his lips didn't withhold any amount of the passion he always kissed you with. For his movements were slow and tender, but the pressure and the intent behind them conveyed all of the heat and the yearning that his gentle touch withheld. Derek kissed with his heart, for you could feel every ounce of love inside of that beating organ in his chest, outpouring into his movements, and it was staggering. Smiling further into the moment that warmed your heart and made the goosebumps risen across your flesh magically vanish, it was only when the train lurched forward into a hurdling stop, did your lips part.

Inhaling a sharp breath, as you listened to the screeching of the metal against the tracks, there was an eeriness that floated over the entire train, as it unnervingly came to a sudden halt. It was palpable in the air, thickening the void between passengers with a dense sense of sudden hushed silence and the curious impending of what was to come. Derek's hands retreated from your swollen belly and from underneath your own grasp, and looked around just as you had begun to do. It was oddly quiet, as all anyone in their seats could do in the moment was look around at their neighbors, with the same shared look of confusion sweeping across their expressions. It felt like you were stranded in the middle of the ocean, as you looked out at the vast landscape that surrounded the train for miles, sitting stalled on top of the tracks as though bobbing aimlessly across the waves. And slowly, just as they had disappeared, the goosebumps that had vanished slowly arose once again. Covering your entire body this time in tiny sensitized bumps that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight, a deep churning in your stomach that was more than just your normal spouts of nausea waves. This one startled you with a slow ease of anxiety through your veins, as though your body was alerting you to something that was to come.

"I'm going to go see what this is about." Per Derek fashion, he couldn't sit on his hands any longer while his curiosity began to get the better of him. And so with a soft squeeze against your right hand, he stood to his feet and slowly began to push his way between your knees and the seats in front of you. Until a whooshing sound, as though the air conditioning had been turned on reverse and was now taking back the cold air it had spilled out, sounded in the space and stalled Derek's movement. The environment around you was silent, all of the passengers still seated and although undeniably curious, remained calm. However, the second those doors opened and a man passed through while waving a gun up in the air, all of that went soaring out the windows.

Your eyes went wide, frightened as though you had seen a ghost, although in reality this sight was far worse. Your right hand instinctively reached forward at the sight of the man's gun, and grabbed tightly to Derek's left hand that hung near to your side as he stood still. Grasping his hand in fear, as your fingers curled around him own. The silence that had built in the passing moments before, immediately popped like a balloon, as it expelled all of the emotion that had been beginning to brew inside of the waiting seconds. For screams echoed around you. Completely consuming the air that you suddenly could no longer take a breath of, and you could feel not only your own fear, but that of others as it overwhelmed the environment around you. Women's screams melded together as high-pitched squeals and cries rung out like a sounding alarm, and in the distant back seats a baby's cry was evident. Some of the men and women behind you stood, while most stayed frozen in their seats like yourself, not wanting to make any sudden movements as the weapon swung carelessly through the air.

The man was drenched in sweat, for it coated his disheveled locks as though the dark strands had been dipped in ink. The stringy strands sticking to his neck that glimmered slightly as the light of the sun bounced against the sheen of sweat slicking over his pale skin. The hood of his dark charcoal grey hoodie had been pulled down, but the zipper was still completely pulled up. And the stains beneath his arms and growing around his neck resembled as if someone had doused him in water. He was sweltering in the layers he wore, even his jeans looked bulky and heavy as they weighed low on his hips. He was a lankier male, no where near Derek's build, and yet there was more meat to him than your good friend and Derek's close colleague, Spencer Reid. He stood at the door that had since closed behind him, only four rows in front of where you sat frozen in fear, and his feet slowly shuffled further.

He was clearly disheveled and unwell, for the fingers of his left hand that didn't hold the loaded gun, trembled. Visible jitters as they drummed repetitively and relentlessly against the side of his hip. And his face, was twisted into a strong lock of his jaw as you could see the stressed lines that marred his pale and sweaty skin. His eyes, that were nearly covered by the long strands of sweat and grime coated hair, were darkened by something. Reddened around the edges, bloodshot, but the irises within the center were lost. Too far gone perhaps.

A woman, dressed in a muted blazer and work slacks, continued to scream in terror from her front row seat. At one point, her voice would have simply bleed into the harmony and disarray of frightened frenzy, but as the gunman slowly turned his attention from the entire train and onto her, the distinct ringing of her voice slowly became more prominent. You had stayed silent thus far, as your right hand clung to Derek's left for dear life as all you could do was watch quietly in shock, until the sharp and nearly deafening bang of his firing gun reverberated throughout the entire train. It was then that a terrified scream escaped past your lips as you watched the quick flash from the muzzle of his gun as it fired, and tears welled fearfully in your eyes as you watched the woman's body slump over in her seat.

Death wasn't something familiar to you. You knew one day it would hit home, as your parents were growing older, and in Derek's dangerous line of work, but it wasn't something that you had seen up close before. Unrealistic shootings in cheesy mob films or a picture or two left out from a file strewn across Derek's desk from a case he was working, was all of the experiences you could compare your share of death to. Until this moment. For you watched her body slump over as though it was in slow motion, and the sound of her body slamming against the arm rest nearly seemed audible in the chaos that ensued in the surrounding atmosphere. Her hand slacked over her head that balanced unnaturally, nearly teetering off the edge, and the glint of her wedding band sparkled in the beam of sunlight flooding through the adjacent window.

"Everybody shut the hell up!" The man's voice bellowed out in a frightening guttural roar. It echoed around you as it bounced off of the walls of the train, that now enclosed you into this confining space with an unstable gunman. His eyes, that were briefly trained on the woman he just shot, soon darted around at the screaming and terrified rows of people he had yet to approach. He looked as though he was trying to look at every single face and memorize all of their features in a matter of mere seconds, for the darkness of his eyes moved around so quickly it hardly seemed real. Darting from one corner of the train to another, faster than the image of the person he looked at, could possibly be completely viewed inside of his mind.

Silent sobs fell from your lips, as the sound that belonged to your since forgotten voice, felt stuck like a thick lump in the base of your throat. Constricting the air that pushed it's way past painfully, and you could feel the hot trail of tears streaming down your face. Shock overwhelmed your body. This was the type of scene that happened in action films or you read about in suspense novels. It wasn't the thing you ever thought could possibly happen to you, while traveling on your way to a relaxing weekend countryside babymoon with your husband. It was all overwhelmingly surreal.

Your head spun from the chaos that ensued around you in the suddenly thick and humid environment, but it wasn't until you felt the warm squeeze of Derek's fingers around your own that were still clinging to his hand in an iron like grip, that a pause came in the swirling of your petrified mind. Looking up at your hand that was beginning to fall from his hold, you felt the rush of cold air conditioning dancing across your bare hand where Derek's warm hand should be. But what truly filled your chest with a cold sinking sensation, was watching Derek's feet slowly begin to draw him out of the space between your knees and the seats in front of you, and towards the empty aisle. Your voice was trapped, even as your trembling lips parted for the single name to rush through them, all that could pass was a breathless cry.  

The man's fingers were turning white from their intense hold on the weapon, which he still dangerously flexed back and forth in his hand, knowing any wrong moment it would go off whether he aimed it or not. But even as his hand gripped his gun with clear intent, he looked to be clearly not in his right mind. His left hand's fingers still jittered relentlessly, although instead of hanging low at his side, they slid across the sweat sheen skin of his forehead. Tugging shakily at the roots of his dark strands, as his chapped lips seemed to murmur as though he was whispering to himself. His eyes had since left the crowd shaking in their seats, bouncing back and forth to himself and the sliver paneling beneath his shuffling feet, but as a voice calls out to him through the continued wave of fearful cries, his head jerks up. 

"Sir," Your heart thundered painfully at the sound of his voice. "put the gun down. No one else needs to get hurt here."

Derek was now standing in the middle of the aisle, holding his hands up just to where they hovered a few inches below his shoulders, and he looked straight ahead at the gunman. If you couldn't breathe before, seeing him standing in the man's clear line of fire, nearly collapsed your entire ability to. For you could feel the burning in your lungs and the crushing constriction deep within your chest, the thundering of your racing heart echoing in your ears and even beating in the tip of your tongue. The initial shock slowly faded, and all consuming fear took it's place. But now, it wasn't fear for your own safety, but for Derek's.  

Perhaps deep down, there was a part of you that knew Derek Morgan couldn't just stand by while this man shot up a train full of innocent passengers. A part of yourself that knew he would intervene, that he would be in the place he stood now, but even so, it didn't do anything to try and ease the pain that built up in your heart. Derek was an agent, a cop, through and through. This was what his heart was made of, what his life's calling was, he protected people because there was an ingrained need within his character to do so. You knew the dangers he faced every single day he kissed you goodbye on his way out the door, but you never thought you would ever be in a position where you were forced to witness the kinds of scenes your nightmares were made of.  

The man's attention was immediately drawn. His darting eyes slowly began to calm, only his dark eyelashes fluttered with the same dizzyingly quick speed, as his sight settled upon Derek's calm and collected stance. His jaw locked as he met Derek's eyeline, and without shifting his sight away from him, his right hand lifted towards the side, and he fired. The same deafening bang of the gun rang through the dense air, inciting screams and louder cries to echo throughout the train. A high-pitched cry falling from your own trembling lips, as the bullet hurdled straight past Derek, but you couldn't help but think of what would've happened if he had been aiming for him. Seeing Derek cripple to the floor, like the elderly man to his left did, dying in a pool of his dark blood. You couldn't shake the suffocating feeling from your body, as your eyes looked at the blood that collected around the seat just behind Derek on his left. Pooling around the base of the chair, as it began to soak through the peach colored knit cardigan that covered the old man's chest. He laid across the silver paneling as his body sank from his seat, his wrinkled hand outstretched into the edge of the aisle, as he died from the bullet that pierced through his chest.

"You think you're a hero?" The gunman snarled lowly, in a voice that sent shivers rushing up your spine from the venomous tone that saturated his anger fueled words.

"Tell that to him." He motioned with his gun towards the elderly man dead across the floor. "Now go sit the hell back down, I'm in charge here."

Derek continued to stand his ground in front of the gunman however, keeping his stance composed and his body as calm as he could, but you knew him. And you could tell by the little minuet details of his body language, that he was rattled by the second shooting. For you could already see the thoughts beginning to swirl around in his head like a torturous whirl pool, the questions, the coulda woulda shoulda. You knew, as the old man's blood slowly began to make it's way closer to the very back edge of Derek's shoe, that he took every innocent casualty personally.

"I can't do that." Derek confessed calmly to the man, who now, terrifyingly had his gun raised and pointed right at him. A single pull with his jittery fingers and Derek would collapse to the floor just as the two innocent lives had just moments ago.

The man locked his jaw once more, and his bloodshot eyes that twitched every few seconds, squinted menacingly at Derek. "Do you want to be the next person with a bullet through their brains?"

Your heart lurched into the pit of your throat, you could feel it beating harshly as the air your lungs yearned for burned as it became trapped on it's way to them. Feeling nothing but the pulsating palpations of your fearful heart, throbbing relentlessly in every inch of your body. The noise around you had yet to cease, but it had minimized, as terror flooded through the other passengers and caused their own screams to be silenced by there overwhelming anxiety. But even as you listened to the few cries that echoed in the tight space around you and forced the heavy beating that repeatedly thundered inside of your head to fade, you felt as though you couldn't allow your body to breathe. For a single intake of sharp and humid air, any miniscule sound from your trembling lips, would somehow impact the scene playing out while Derek's life hung in the balance.

"What I want," Derek said slowly, easing out his words into the tense void with calculated calmness. "is to help get these people off of this train safely. But the only way that I can do that, is if you put the gun down and let me help you."

For a mere second, a new emotion flashed across the gunman's face. His lips curled upward for the briefest of seconds as his teeth, that were just as screwed up as the rest of him was, bared into view. A snarling smile from the amusement he found in Derek's calm and assuring words, and a sharp hack of a laugh coughed through his chapped lips, before his eyes clouded over again and he gritted his teeth roughly together.

"Help?" The gunman spat out harshly. "Help?!"

His hand that was tightly wound around his weapon, seemed to shove forward. His arm extending further out, even as his shuffling feet kept him in place. "You think I need your help? What I need, is for you to shut the hell up and sit down!"

The threat, lacing his words in venom, sent a rush of cold fear running throughout your entire body. But Derek, with a gun pointing straight at his chest, stood unfazed by the man's intimidating tone. Sometimes, Derek Morgan's bravery frightened you. For you knew his strength was apart of himself, both physically and mentally. And he took an oath, as part of his job but also as a personal one to himself, that he would always have the courage to try and stand up for what was right. His admirable bravery, was never something you would ever want to change about him. You got the privilege of seeing every side that there was to Derek Morgan; the hero, the brave FBI agent, the kickass... but also the husband, the provider, the vulnerable man beneath the tough exterior. And you loved every single aspect. But it didn't mean that his bravery and his strength made it any easier to stomach the idea that one day, those characteristics, could get him hurt.

"What are you taking?" Derek inquired suddenly, and as your heart thundered and your curiosity peaked, so did the gunman's. You watched as his eyes narrowed and his teeth scraped against each other again before he opened his mouth to respond.

"What?" He gritted out, spitting it as though a piece of tobacco hidden beneath the underside of his tongue.

"What are you on? Crack? Methamphetamine? Heroin?"

The gunman's fingers tightened their grasp on the gun as he scrutinized Derek through his hooded gaze. "You think of yourself as some kind of smart ass genius?"

The man's head tilted to the side and you could faintly hear the crack in his neck as he did so. His eyes were narrowed in Derek's direction, yet to have taken his attention or heavy gaze off of him since Derek had captured it.

"I'm not a genius. If you're looking for one, I've got a friend who'd match that search. But not me." Derek replied coolly with a slight shake of his head, as he faintly raised his eyebrows. "I'm just trying to help you see that you're shooting innocent people here. Innocent people that you're holding captive. They haven't done anything to you. They don't want to be here, they want to go home. Make it easier on them, and on yourself. Why don't you let them all get off, and I'll stay instead."

Panic immediately rose inside of you, and it felt as though you were trapped within a suffocating glass box that was filling to the brim with water. Drowning you in the petrifying fear Derek's bargain invoked. Your heart hammered erratically inside of your chest, it's beats harsh as if the muscle was pounding against your ribcage to be let free. You couldn't breathe, feeling the sharp tightness constricting your lungs that were deflated due to the lack of hot oxygen flowing to them, and your head began to spin. But even as the train around you seemed to swirl in the thundering heart beat of the moment, your sight on Derek was as clear as day. Your focus stayed entirely entuned on Derek and the conversation that built the tension and anxiety up in the air between the two men squaring off.

"I know what you are."

The gunman's words were the first to fall from his chapped and faintly chattering lips in a tone other than the gravelly menace, that had saturated everything he had spit out thus far. This time, his statement was smooth and confident. Completely contradicting the clear withdrawal symptoms that weakened this man and made his mind erratic and dark. And ever so slightly, with the ghost of what you supposed resembled a cocky smirk, the edges of his lips curled upward at his undoubtful observation.

"And what's that?"

The man's chin jutted forward quickly, as though motioning with his head at Derek. "Let me see it. Your badge."

Derek's facial reaction remained stoic as the gunman's request lingered in the dense air in front of him, but it was almost as though you could feel the thunder transpiring deep within his calmly rising and falling chest. For it added to your own palpating heart. The gunman's observation made your breath hitch, if you had a breath to even have do so, but you felt the familiar tightness in your chest that made it impossible to inhale. You knew that there were moments in life, slim but still enough, that Derek's job was not always the blessing or answer it always felt like it was. There were moments, circumstances, people even, where it was dangerous for them to know the truth of Derek's line of work. And although you knew Derek may as well be the only chance, that you and all of the passengers around you, had at getting off of this train unscathed, you still felt the fear of the wondering if this was one of those dreaded moments.

But you watched as Derek raised a brow slightly, as his right hand slowly fell and reached into his back pocket. His left staying still in the air, as his eye contact stayed steady on the armed man in front of him, as his hand retreated from his pocket, flashing his FBI badge towards the man. You saw his glazed and bloodshot eyes scanning over the credentials, whether he read them clearly or was just looking for evidence that proved his strung out paranoid claim, you couldn't be sure.  

The man's jaw locked again as he chewed roughly at his bottom lip, pulling it inward towards his stained teeth. "Call them."

His words were not what Derek, or yourself for that matter, had expected for them to be. They were two words, spoken unnaturally calm and even. Especially from someone who's hands hadn't stopped jittering and whose eyes kept twitching here and there. Every part of him was squirrelly, and yet his words fell from his chewed lips in a flow of confidence as his tone was unnervingly stern.

"What?" Derek questioned with raised eyebrows, and he faintly leaned forward as though he hadn't quite heard the man clear enough.

The gunman simply tilted his head barely half an inch to the side, and narrowed his bloodshot eyes."Call your little buddies down at the FBI, and tell them that if they don't get a negotiator down here, someone else is going to die every ten minutes until I get my demands met."

"I'm that negotiator," Derek said immediately. "talk to me."

The gunman shoved his gun forward in his grasp, signaling his irritation with Derek's response. "Someone who can actually do crap, because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're about ten minutes away from a bullet in your fucking head. Now call them." 

And with his bare hand, digging through his slouched back pocket, the gunman threw his retracted cellphone right at Derek. His hands only dropping in order to catch the small silver device. You saw the edges of Derek's eyes as his eyelashes fluttered wildly, as he looked up at the gunman and back down at the cellphone in his hand. Perhaps looking for any sign of bluffing in the man's expression, or thinking of any other possible way he could manage to get you all out of here without having to follow this man's instructions. But slowly, you watched his fingers flip open the phone and dial a number he knew by heart.

The air in the train seemed to stop flowing as the cell phone dialed, for the cries and muffles of screams suddenly ceased, and the thick atmosphere fell into a suffocating and unnerving silence.

"Speaker phone." The man nudged his weapon forward in the air, as he gestured for Derek to bring the phone down from his ear and push a single button. And soon a new voice filled the train.

"SSA Aaron Hotchner."

"Hey Hotch, it's Morgan." Derek said, keeping his tone even and his voice as steady as possible. "Look, I've got a situation."

"We come to you live this evening, with breaking news. At approximately 3:37 this afternoon, a single gunman opened fire on a moving Northbound train full of traveling passengers. The train coming to a shuddering halt as the man fired and killed the conductor, gaining control of the vessel and all of the passengers inside."

"We have yet to identify the shooter, only that the man is armed and severely dangerous. Sources have confirmed that there has been two other casualties along with the conductor, their identities are unknown at this time."

"There has been no contact with the gunman inside of the train, but efforts are being made, as the local authorities and the FBI's own Behavioral Analysis Unit are setting up at the scene. The BAU were called in by one of their own agents, an SSA Derek Morgan, who happens to be one of the passengers being held hostage inside of the stalled train. There is no word on his condition. We will continue to update you and bring you all of the newest developments as they present themselves, but for now we'll throw it back to the studio for your regularly scheduled news."

You had begun to think that the thundering boom that reverberated throughout the train, would soon feel less frightening. That after the last shot, the sudden deafening pop wouldn't rattle your body to the point where your soul nearly clambered outside of your being. But as your eyes widened with another cracking sob falling past your lips, the piercing sound of the gun firing once again shook your bones as you nearly jumped straight out of your skin. Your fingernails dug into the dark navy blue upholstery of the seats in front of you, as your legs were now teetering of the very edge of your seat. Gripping tightly for support, as you huddled closer to the warm and sticky fabric as though for protection.

Another woman laid strewn across the aisle, her spilled blood pooling around her fingers as they still loosely clung to what you would later realize as a photograph. Like many around you, who clung to the hands of their loved one beside them, or the rosary from their purses or even the last text message they received from their parents back home, the dead woman clung dearly to a reminder of the person in which she loved. She was younger than you, you realized as your eyes scanned over her body that was slouched over from the first row. Her dark black hair sprawled across the dark puddles of crimson, but even as your heart ached and fear tortured your body, you were thankful that her face was turned away from you. For the eyes of the last two innocent victims, haunted you whenever you blinked.

Derek believed in his team, he knew that they would figure a way to get everyone on this train out of here. But he also knew, from experience, that that didn't always mean it could be on their own two feet. Even as they could try to control the situation from out there, the heat building inside of the small and now claustrophobic train, was bubbling towards the top and there was beginning to feel as though there was nothing to ease the impending pressure.

Although Derek's stance was still collected, you could see the newly heightened rise and fall of his incredibly stiffened shoulders. The muscles in his face were tight as you could see them faintly in the lines of his neck as he swallowed deeply, his adam's apple bobbing anxiously. You knew that Derek wanted to speak up, as the metallic scent that tainted the air began to slowly fade, feeling burning rage underneath his suffocating anxiety for the third victim he couldn't save. But the shrill ring of the silver flip phone broke him of his thoughts, and held it up for the gunman.

"This is your negotiator," He urged with an edge in his rushed tone, his eyebrows completely raised. "talk to him. No one else needs to die here today."

The man's bare hand raked shakily through his greasy and disheveled locks, pulling roughly on the roots before motioning with his gun for Derek to answer the ringing phone.

"This is SSA Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. Who is it I'm speaking to?"

The man gritted his teeth as his eye contact shifted from Derek, who held the open phone securely in his grip as Aaron's voice filled the train, and down towards the speaker. "I'm going to tell you what I want, and you're going to get it to me. If you don't, someone else dies. You lie to me, someone else dies. You try to play your little FBI mind tricks on me, someone else dies. Do you hear me?"

"I understand." Aaron responded coolly. His methodical tone hung in the air like that of a frayed thread, for Aaron knew more was coming. And so, with a calm patience, he allowed for the strung out and unstable man to list his demands.

You watched as the gunman gnawed on the inside of his gums, pulling the flesh into his tight bite, as his fingers continued to twitch against the denim of his thigh. His other fingers were still tightly gripped to the loaded weapon that was still angled in Derek's direction. His eyes darted back and forth in a speed that made you feel dizzy, the longer you stared at him, and it was as though he was trying to uncover enough clarity to think of all of his irrational demands.

"I want a truck," His voice was sharp and yet, there was a shake that wavered in the undertones of his words. His tone was stern, but the withdrawal symptoms that wrecked havoc in his body, threated to undermine the intimidation and authoritative infliction he tried to cast in his words. "one with tinted windows and a full tank of gas."

"Cash. I want enough to get me down south, a couple grand at least. And you're gonna tell all your little FBI agents to stand down, put their weapons on the ground and take a step back. I'm walking off of this train to that truck, and you're gonna let me drive away from here with my money in hand, you hear me?"

"I hear you. I understand all of your requests and I can certainly make those happen," Aaron spoke up in his consistently collected and unnaturally calm tone. "but in order for me to negotiate what you want, I need to know that I can trust that you won't hurt anyone else on that train."

"You know my conditions."

"And you know mine. I have one of my men in there, innocent people that don't need to die. If you kill another one I can't--"

And in the flash of a single second, the blink of your tearful eyes, another shot rings out. A booming pop that reverberates throughout the vessel, the echo seeming somehow louder than the last. Your eyes widen with the never ending fear that courses through your veins, as another man slumps to the ground from his seat. This one coughing loudly as his dying breath melds with the screams echoing behind you. Blood splatters across the flooring, pooling from his wound but from this man, streaks of dark red spew against the floor as though splatters of paint against a bare canvas. His gasp for air nearly imperceptible in the overwhelming void that suffocates the entire train, but hearing the screech of his nails against the metal board on the floor, sends a chill down your spine. Clawing for his life, before his body stills, just as all of the others had.

As your eyes slowly drift away from the fourth body to line the small space, the metallic stench of shed blood and the fearful sweat of dread, taints the last clear breath of oxygen. But it isn't the terrifying smell in the air, or even the sound of the gunman's aggravated voice speaking to Aaron that causes your lips to part in a trembling quiver. Your eyes flutter briskly, flushing away the tears that flooded to the edge and now run down the sides of your reddened and clammy cheeks. With bated breath, your right hand reaches down to your swollen belly and cradles the bottom in the palm of your shaking hand, as your eyes fearfully gaze down at a different puddle surrounding your feet. This one lighter in shade and thinner in liquid, but in this shocking instant, far more terrifying.

A sharp gasp slips through your parted lips, and even in the chaos of loud terrified screams with a murderer's gun still aimed in his direction, your sudden cry sparks an alert inside of Derek Morgan. For his head instantly whips to look over his shoulder back at you, while continuing to keep the cell phone steady in his hand as Aaron's voice funnels through it. Your shocked and painful gasp, although faint compared to the screams piercing the atmosphere from frightened passengers, is loud enough to capture Derek's attention and look to you with worry written within the lines of his face. 

Your fingers clutch to the loose flowing fabric that covers your swollen belly, cradling the weight and fisting the delicate fabric in a tight grip, as your teeth grind together through your first mind-numbing contraction. Your eyes flutter shut as your trembling lips, slick with your fallen tears, press together so roughly that you fear your teeth might rip straight through. The sharp pain shoots through you, overwhelming all of your senses to the point that for a brief moment, you are free of the fear that encapsulates this ill-fated train. As the contraction passes, your eyes tentatively open and find your knees pressed against the cold and now slick floor of the train. Your left hand clutching the arm rest of your seat, as your right continues to grip around your stomach.

Looking upward through your tear soaked lashes, your eyes find Derek's. The early evening sun reflects against his frame, illuminating his bare white Henley in soft marigold and rich golden hues. And as his warm molasses brown eyes stare back at your fearful gaze, it's the first time in this entire hostage situation that you see a single emotion displayed in his demeanor. Panic.      

"Look man," Derek's gaze rips away from your own, only a few seconds before your eyes squeeze shut through another contraction that tears throughout your tensed body. Returning his attention to the gunman, and cutting off any spat he was having with Aaron. "they're going to get you what you want. That truck out of here, that money to get you south of the boarder. But you need to start letting hostages go."

"Starting with the woman going into labor."

You could hear the anxiety rising in Derek's voice, the faint tremor in the back of his throat that caused his eyebrows to raise and his entire body to tense in anticipation. You weren't sure if the gunman could feel the change in his demeanor, for his stance still stood strongly and without bending, but you knew Derek better than anyone. And in this moment, you could hear the fear overwhelming him.

His words were a subtle alert to Aaron who waited on just the other side of tracks. A way of saying that they needed to have medical personal on the scene and ready for an in route birth. He didn't want to say it was for you, putting a target on your head for the gunman to seek you out as the FBI agent's pregnant wife, but Derek knew that Hotch would realize just who needed the medical attention.

"No one is going anywhere."

The gunman yanked at the roots of his hair, his fingers gripped tightly through the disheveled tangles and jerked his weapon towards Derek. Although the action had yet to be followed through, Derek knew better than to underestimate the mind of a devolving unsub with a death wish and nothing to lose.

"We have the truck ready for you," Aaron's voice funneled through into the tense void, and you rested your head against the cushion of your seat. Your eyes too tired to keep open any longer, as you can feel your loose strands beginning to stick to the thin sheen of sweat against the sides of your neck. "and we're working on getting you your money, but we need to make sure that that mother and her baby are alright."

"No one's leaving before I do." The man warned sharply.

"I never said anything about letting her leave," Aaron conceded. "just let my agent hand you the phone so we can continue to talk regarding the money we're getting down here, and let him go tend to her."

The gunman continued to gnaw a hole through the gum of his cheek as his hands raked roughly through his hair, considering the positives and negatives of both of his options before finally taking the phone from Derek's hand and allowing him to run over to your crouched over body.  

You can hear the harsh thunder of his footsteps against the flooring of the train, booming the few short paces before his knees fall beside your crouched body. The rich scent of peppermint overwhelms your senses as Derek speaks in soft but distressed whispers and the touch of his warm fingers reaching out against your clammy flesh, makes your heavy eyelids slowly work to open.

"Baby, open your eyes for me baby. It's going to be alright, I've got you, I'm right here."

His voice is a beacon of calm in the middle of a raging sea. For even as his tone is tensed with rightful anxiety and his breath comes heavier as you feel the warmth cascade down against the flesh of your face, the pure sound of his voice is enough to make you feel as though the chill of the situation is far from view. For his voice gathers you into his arms, with an instant warmth radiating through your troubled and weakened body.

The soft warming shade of copper is the first thing to meet your eyes, as they slowly peer open and are met with his gaze locked completely on your own. His eyebrows are raised, as the lines of his face crease in stress but his eyes hold a calming twinkle. As though the weight and the demons of the world could chip away at his expressions and his demeanor, but it could never reach far enough to diminish the shimmer in his eyes that radiated straight from his wholesome soul.

A new, softer sound of breathing soon enters your ear, as a flash of burgundy red appears in the corner of your eye. "I'm a NICU nurse," The woman in soft brunette tendrils and deep red colored scrubs whispers, as her knees crouch beside Derek's. "I thought I could help."

Derek thanks her sincerely, as his fingers reach out to take your left hand. Releasing it's tight clutch on the arm rest of your seat, and replacing it with his thick fingers that are instantly squeezed in an iron like grip. "Derek--" Your voice musters out in a pained grunt, as your face scrunches your eyes closed through another sharp contraction. "some--somethings wrong."

You could feel it. A sureness in the pit of your heart, a motherly instinct already installed in your being, that told you something with your little one still waiting to join this world, was wrong.

If you couldn't already feel the trepidation radiating from Derek's body like strong rays of sunshine, you could certainly see it in his eyes as your weak words meet his ears. For a flash of uncertainty, of unbridled fear, darkened the lightness of his irises for the briefest of moments. Like the sun fading behind the shadow of a dark cloud, worry engulfed his eyes in a deepening shade of brown, unlike any you had ever seen before from this man. But just as he would always do for you, he swallowed down his own fear and uneasiness and focused on consoling your own.

Derek squeezed your hand as tenderly as he could, as his fingers were gripped tightly in your pained grasp. "Let's lay you down baby, that'll help, c'mon."

You felt almost fearful to move away from your cramped position between the seats. Nervous that any movement, any undoing of your current uncomfortable yet undeniably stable position, would cause more pain to your already overwhelmed being. But gripping tightly to Derek's hand, his left wrapped securely around your back as he slowly helped inch you downward towards the cold metallic floor of the train. Feeling the chill instantly soaking through the thin chiffon material against your back and your lips parted in a sharp painful gasp as the contractions seemed to be on top of each other. Never ending currents of shocking pain, coursing through you as though streaks of electricity sparking throughout.

Derek's eyes stayed with yours the entire time, as though he could somehow absorb your fear and take it upon himself, if he kept your shaky sight steady on him. Your eyes kept fluttering shut as you could feel droplets of sticky sweat running down the sides of your neck. Coating the palm of your hand that gripped with an undwindling strength to his strong hold. Only did his eyes flicker away from yours, as they shut through another shriek ensuing current of sharp pain, to look over at the good Samaritan nurse who was down at your knees. Her eyes looked up at his and their contact met in a clash of a single emotion that hung like a suffocating void in the air. She didn't need to say the words, Derek already knew. You needed to get off of this train right now or you and the baby wouldn't make it.

"You're going to have to start pushing for me honey, alright?" The woman's voice was easy and light, like a sweet flow of honey. But you could hear the shake in her words, as you felt her hands grab hold of your knees and push them further apart.  

This wasn't how this moment was supposed to be, you thought as hot salty tears cascaded down your face and your screams echoed in the small space. The reality and what you always imagined for yourself and for Derek and for the little one coming into the world to be, didn't line up. You always imagined the moment as Derek frantically rushed you out to the car when your water broke, chuckling when he worried over every item you may or may not have packed in the hospital bag. You pictured yourself in a small hospital room, surrounded by nurses and machines, but safe and cared for. The pain of the contractions dulled with the help of medication. With Derek standing beside you, his hand in your own, whispering soft encouragements in your ear as you pushed your baby out. You imagined the day a million times, but never did you see the moment this way. Terrified, for not only your own life in more ways than one, but for your little one. Held hostage while going into labor. You never imagined you would be pushing your baby out, gritting through mind-numbing contractions, on the cold dirty floor of a halted train.

"The baby's breach," You heard the nurse say to Derek, and although the world around you felt distorted and voices seemed to funnel in and out of clarity, those three words were as crystal clear as they come. "she needs to get to the hospital now!"

Derek's eyes looked over at the nurse and in the corner of your eye, you saw a dark shade of red seeping across the floor beneath the bunched up material of your flowing dress. His eyes tried to conceal the panic thundering against his chest best they could, but you could see it. He looked away from the nurse and back towards you, before bending downward and pressing his lips ever so gently against the sticky skin of your forehead.

"She needs medical attention!" Derek's voice boomed through the small vessel as he looked over his shoulder, turning his attention back to the gunman who had since hung up on Aaron Hotchner.

The man angled his gun towards Derek's head once again, before snarling with the same unstable tremor trailing in his tone. "And I need my damn money! So the question isn't if I'll let her go, its if your little FBI friend will."

Your eyes could barely stay open as the world around you seemed to swirl like clothes in the wash, muddling colors together until they blended into blurs of hues that made it hard to see straight. The pain still held tightly to your body, overwhelming you from head to toe, and yet it almost felt as though it was slowly beginning to fade. The noises around you still echoed loudly and you felt as Derek slipped his hand out of your weakening grasp, but you couldn't react to it. Although your thoughts screamed for his return, your heart aching for his presence, all your body could do was lay against the cold floor now slick with your own blood.

"You don't think that those "little" FBI agents aren't working to get you what you want? You think they'd rather stand on the other side of those tracks and let these people die?" Derek's shadow had disappeared from your proximity and his voice felt far even as he was simply standing where he was minutes ago. Facing the man who had his loaded weapon aimed at his head.

"Look man! Take a look for yourself! Look outside right now," He pointed towards the window to the gunman's left. "they're all working on getting everything you want! You heard him earlier, they have the truck ready!"

The gunman kept his gun angled in Derek's direction, but his shaky gaze slowly drifted from Derek's face and towards the clear window. Looking out at the mass of agents and police presence set up on the other side of the tracks.

"But if you let a pregnant woman die here, how likely are they going to want to help you huh?" Derek exclaims in an exasperated breath. You could hear the desperateness in his voice. The pure ache in his words. He was doing everything he could, saying all of the things he could think of to try and get this man to let you go.

Derek watched the gunman with anticipation, with his nerves on fire from the burning anxiety that coursed through his veins. As he watched the man's gaze steady on the crowd of agents standing across the tracks from where he stood, Derek realized in that moment, that he didn't need to wait for words. He didn't need to hear this man say that you could go, Derek saw his opening right there in that very moment... and he took it.

Your eyelids fluttered open in the smallest of peeks, the setting sunlight hitting your sight like it was beaming over that of a distant hill as it descended slowly behind it. For your vision was weak and now blinded by the glow of twinkling reflective sunlight, but clarity found your sight just long enough to witness Derek taking advantage of the gunman's distracted state. For he reacted in a split second, far faster than your clouded mind had time to process his sudden and dangerous call to action.

Derek bolted forward, locking his tight grip on the gun that had been outstretched in his direction, but wavered in intent as the man had since looked away. That all changed the second Derek's strong grasp wrapped around the loaded weapon, for the man's eyes flashed with a menacing darkness as his head whipped back around. You could barely breathe, but the intense thundering of your racing heart inside of your tightening chest, was inescapable. Your eyes barely wide enough to see the entirety of your surroundings, as you lips were parted in silent moans as the need to push only prolonged the dangerous bleeding and pain that ripped through your body. But the frightening thumping of your heart, echoed throughout your mind, the strongest sensation left beating in your fading being.

The two men were blurs of light, one of a beautiful white glow that made your heart ache as your vision began to fizzle away, the other bathed in a darkness that made you thankful for the relief your closed eyelids provided. They struggled in the open aisle of the train, both bodies twisting and grunting as they fought for the possession and control of the loaded gun. It was the last sight you saw as your heavy eyelids finally conceded and fell shut. The image of a tall white glow, although blurred and without definition, emanated the strength and the dedication in which it fought for you. And just as your consciousness teetered along a wobbling tight rope, the deathly familiar bang rang throughout the train one last time. The gunshot was the last sound you heard before everything went quiet.

Derek Morgan's heavy breathes echoed inside of his own head and his adrenaline clutched tightly to his overly pumping heart. Everything felt still for the smallest of moments, as he stood slightly hunched over as he caught his breath, that had been hidden in the back of his throat. But the sharp screams of passengers and sensations of the environment around him suddenly came rushing back, melting away the frozen void he felt like he stood within. Looking down, Derek watched as the man in front of him slouched towards the floor. His hands finally retreating from his weapon, leaving it in the palms of Derek's. The gun felt far heavier than any firearm Derek had ever held or fired before, for perhaps this one was weighed down with more than bullets in the chamber. It held the fear and the terror that it had inflicted upon himself and his wife and all of the other innocents trapped on this train. It was tainted with the lives that it didn't need to take, threats it didn't need to make, trauma it didn't need to impose.

His fingers were splattered with the spray of dark crimson blood, shooting out from the bullet wound gaping through the hole in the gunman's stomach. The spotless white of his shirt, now flawed with the spray of bloodshed of a man who endangered his family. His slightly shaky hands, trembling with more adrenaline he had ever felt, stuffed the gun in his back pocket for safety and bolted around. His knees crashing to the floor in a radiating boom as he fell beside her. Her skin tone had changed from a healthy glow that beamed with excitement for their vacation ahead, to a clammy pale dreadful hue. Her eyelashes lay still against her cheekbones, as the last single beam of sunlight for the day glinted against the sweat that coated her colorless flesh. The dress she wore was now drenched, tainted by the dark blood that used the flowing fabric as a rag. His fingers pressed to the side of her neck, feeling a shock of electricity soar through his chest as he found her faint but still beating pulse, and it was enough to push him from his crouched position and bolt for the doors.

"We need medics! Please!" Derek cried out in an angst filled scream as he shouted to his team mates just across the tracks, their bodies reacting instantly to his sudden presence in the doorway he rushed open. Nearly knocking it out of it's socket with his hurried strength.  

His fingers felt just as jittery as the gunman's had looked, as he couldn't stop their overwhelmed trembles that thumped tirelessly against the blood soaked knees of his jeans. His legs were thankful for the chance to sit as the ambulance blared loudly down the highway on the way to the emergency room, but he felt almost stir-crazy as he was unable to do anything but watch the paramedics work while on route to the hospital. Derek couldn't do anything in this kind of situation, he'd done all he could. He stalled the gunman long enough to save a few more lives, he apprehended him and wounded him in the process and he'd helped get his wife and baby safely into the ambulance. That was his part in all of this, what he knew deep down was all he could do. But it didn't change the heart wrenching feeling pulling at his heavy chest, as he simply watched, held her hand and said a silent prayer to his Lord who had been waiting a very long time for his voice.

It wasn't supposed to be this way, Derek cried silently. This wasn't how he'd imagined this day, how he'd pictured his son or daughter being introduced into this world. He'd always known that it would be a nearly impossible job, to completely conceal his little one from the harsh and hellish realities that lingered out in the world, he just never knew that the darkest parts would be evident on his baby's very first breath into it. But Derek continued to pray, as they swept her up into the operating room and he stood feeling completely lost in the empty hallway as she disappeared from his view. He prayed to God, whom he had long ago silenced in his mind and begged him for his mercy and grace. Derek Morgan prayed for the chance to show his little boy or girl, that there was indeed good out there in the world. And that whatever darkness tried to rip it away, that he would always be there to protect his little one from it.

The soft sound of a beeping machine awoke you, alerting you to the disinfectant scent that filled your senses along with the heaviness of pain that throbbed across your entire body. But it was the sound of softly hushed whispers, from somewhere in the room, that encouraged your heavy eyelids to slowly flutter open. Welcoming in the dim light that glowed from a lamp stood sturdily in the corner, beside a tan leather couch spread with clothing and hospital pillows.

The recollections of the day funneled in, swarming your mind with unwanted images and emotions that lingered raw at the surface. But as your tired eyes searched the small and delicately decorated recovery hospital room, the sight they finally landed upon brought forth a new, more welcome sensation of emotions. This one, overflowed with joy. Unscathed by the events of the day before, as the early morning hours still loomed in a dark blanket outside of the curtain closed window to your right. This emotion pierced your eyes with tears that streaked down your cheek, with a warmth that felt more as though someone was trailing a tender finger down your flesh. Unlike the acidic burn that had faded from your reddened skin from hours prior. Your chest breathed a new breath, expanding in a happiness that overwhelmed your racing heart. This emotion was untouchable, incomparable, as it lifted a small but warming smile up across your lips. The sight before you now, made all of the fear, all of the pain, all of the anxiety of the hours before, absolutely worth it.

Derek Morgan had changed out of the blood soaked clothes that had chilled his skin, after the request of Penelope Garcia who had practically forced him into the men's bathroom, with a change of clothes in her perfectly manicured hands. His back faced you, as your eyes landed on the soft blueish-grey shade of his long sleeve shirt. The sleeves pushed up a few inches below his elbow, as the muscles in his arms were flexed as he carried something carefully. You could hear the hushed sound of his gentle voice, soft and light as though he whispered in both tone and volume. But it wasn't until his arms that softly bounced up and down, turned as did the rest of him and the sight of a lighter more pale blue shade came into view. The baby blue blanket pressed against his chest and the excess draped over the ridge of his left forearm, and the sight felt as though a once in a lifetime kind of moment.

It was surreal, so much so, that silent tears fell from your fluttering lashes, as you watched quietly as your husband cradled your newborn baby boy closely to his chest. The little bundle was wrapped securely in the warm blue blanket, his head covered by a little striped hospital issued beanie that looked like it nearly swallowed up his small frame. But he was breathtaking, even from where you lay silently in your hospital bed, not wanting to intrude on this precious moment. Derek's smile was the brightest light that shone in the room. For his eyes were casted downwards, completely captivated by the tiny infant asleep in his father's safe arms. His smile stretched far wider than any you had ever seen, for this was made of pure undeniable joy. A happiness he feared was getting ripped from his hands before his very eyes the day before, but here he stood... a proud father of a beautiful baby boy as his wife was safe and recovered in the bed just across the room from them.

"We thought we might have lost you yesterday little man," Derek's voice, although his words fluttered through the air as though they rested upon butterflies wings, carried over towards your bedside. "I thought I lost both you and your mama, but she's strong. So strong... stronger than me sometimes. She fought for you little guy, she fought to bring you into this world and to make sure you were safe and sound. She fought hard, because she loves you so very much. She didn't even know you yet, she didn't know your face or who you were gonna be, but she fought every single step of the way because she knew just how worth it you were going to be sweet boy. We love you, so much."

"I love you so much little man and I promise," Derek whispered as he leaned down and gingerly pressed his lips to the top of his son's head. "to keep you safe. To keep you from harm. I promise to protect you, just as I have for your mother all of these years, for the rest of your life."

You might've had to take a bump in the road to get to this moment in time, but as you gazed lovingly at the sight of your husband and your little bundle of joy, you realized you would take all of the bumps in the world to get to this very moment.

A/N: Ahhh! I have so many happy tears omg!! I don't even know where to start!😭😍

Alright, how about that GIF?!? How pure is that, my heart swells every single time I look at it!😍 I actually found that GIF and instantly knew I needed to use it for a one shot. So I took the time to craft a piece to fit it. I wanted something that had a little bit of everything. I wanted a piece with a softness, heartwarming moments and swoon worthy scenes. I wanted nail biting suspense, action and anxiety inducing moments. I love pulling at heart strings with both heavy angst and overwhelming emotion and I knew this one had to have a steady balance of both!

I had no idea that this one would end up this long... again! But I loved this idea when I crafted it, it has been one of my top favorite ideas I've ever come up with and I knew I could do something truly beautiful with it! So I always strive to let my writing and the words and scenes I create flow endlessly, without any kind of restrictions! And I am so glad that I do, because when I just let my writing flow from my hands onto the page.. magic happens!

I love love love this piece. The execution of this piece, that stemmed from an idea I was so excited to write, is so incredible and beautiful to me! I never know going in just how vividly detailed and beautiful a piece will turn out to be, I just have to trust my idea, my creativity and my writing and see the magic as a completed piece. And I am so insanely proud of every line, every detail, every description, every heartwarming moment of this one shot! It turned out better than I could've ever imagined, and I am so overjoyed by it! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it!❤

(I also just wanted to take a small moment, to say thank you. Thank you for the endless support and love and encouragement I've received on this book. A book I am so unbelievably proud of! It lifts me up, it keeps me going! Your comments and your sweet words of kindness and support mean more to me than you will ever know! To know people out there love my writing, it's validating and heartwarming. It keeps me inspired to keep writing, it makes me want to push my writing capabilities to be better! Thank you for making me and my writing feel ever so loved!)❤