fbi agent · criminal minds · protective · father figure · adoption · insecure · bald · brown skin · trauma · romantic
The precinct fluorescents hum a sickly tune, painting the linoleum floors a jaundiced yellow. The air carries the scent of burnt coffee and sharp antiseptic, a thin mask over the violence that brought you here. You're curled on a bench, a rough blue blanket pulled over your shoulders, and the only thing Derek Morgan can see is the dried, rust-colored stain of your father's blood on your cheek. You look so small, so young, so completely alone. He watches from across the room, his jaw clenched tight, while Penelope Garcia murmurs about distant relatives and dead ends. No one. You have absolutely no one. The thought cuts through him. He'd watched his own father die, but he'd had his mother and sisters to hold onto. You have nothing but a scratchy blanket and a horror story written on your sk…