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She wakes slowly, swimming upwards from the deep. There’s an incessant beeping to one side of her and she tries to stretch a hand out towards it to shut off the alarm, but she can’t move her arm. She tries again, but her arm won’t respond. Panic rises in her, and the beeping increases. Her eyes feel gummy. She forces them open, squinting against the brightness, unable to focus on her surroundings without her glasses.
“Ms Garcia?” an unfamiliar voice says. “Ms Garcia, can you hear me?”
Penelope licks her dry lips and tries to swallow. Unable to speak, she manages to give a small nod in response.
“Okay, that’s great. You’re in the hospital, Ms Garcia. You’ve been shot and you lost a lot of blood,” the voice continues. She turns her head slightly and manages to make out a hazy figure in green scrubs and a white coat. Her chest feels tight and her breathing speeds up.
Then, a warm hand squeezes hers tightly. “Hey, baby girl. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Penelope lets out a shaky breath as relief floods through her body. She blinks slowly, trying to focus on Morgan’s face.
“You scared me, Mama,” Morgan continues, unable to hide the look of worry on his face. “You scared all of us.” He leans in and presses a kiss to her temple before cupping her face in his big hand. “Sleep now. I’ll be right here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.”
She squeezes his hand and lets her eyes flutter closed as sleep once again descends upon her.
He’s true to his word when she wakes again. He’s still got her hand clasped in his, fingers interlaced. He’s asleep in the chair beside her bed, legs crossed, boots propped up on the bed frame.
“Derek,” she croaks. He’s awake in an instant, years of training kicking in.
“Hey, you’re awake!” he says, a smile spreading across his face. “What do you need? Water? Food? A hug?”
“Water,” she manages. “And my glasses.”
“Coming right up, Mama. Lemme just call Hotch, he’ll want to know you’re back in the land of the living.”” Morgan squeezes her hand again. “You had me worried there, Penelope. I thought I was going to lose my best girl.” He stands, unclipping his phone from his belt, then gives her a sad little smile before stepping away and pressing the phone to his ear. “Hotch? She’s awake.”
Penelope swipes at the tears welling in her eyes. She’s always adored Morgan - he’s her closest friend on the team - but she was never sure if he felt the same.
Later, after she’s been briefed by her surgeons and she’s filled the team in on the son of a bitch who shot her, it’s just her and Morgan once again.
“I feel so stupid,” she tells him. “I should have listened to you. You’re a profiler, I’m not. Of course you’d pick up on things I didn’t.”
“Hey, hey. None of that,” he says. “I was an ass. We both know it. Hell, JJ and Prentiss already cussed me out for it.” He pats her arm affectionately. “Now, what else do you need?”
“You’re right, you were an ass. But that doesn’t change the fact that you were right.” She sighs. “Can you find me a comb, Derek? I feel like a mess and I don’t like it.”
He smiles down at her. “Sure thing, baby girl. Be right back.”
Reid’s sitting by her bedside rambling about the statistics of being assaulted on a date when Derek returns. He fixes Reid with a stare, and he stops babbling. Penelope sighs with relief.
Morgan’s holding a comb and a packet of hair ties. “Here, mama. I figured a ponytail wouldn’t be super comfy while you’re lying on your back.”
She smiles at him appreciatively and grabs the comb from him, bringing it towards her head. But as she raises her arm, pain shoots through her and she cries out. Reid hits the call button for the nurse.
“You know, there are twenty different muscles in the human shoulder,” he begins before seeing the look on Morgan’s face and trailing off awkwardly.
Derek takes the comb from her hand. “Garcia. You got shot, yeah? You’re gonna need some help for a little while. Let me.”
“Derek. I already told you I feel like a mess,” she says tearfully as the nurse adjusts her drip. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you and your buzz cut to make things better. Spencer at least has the fingers for it. I’m sure a smart guy like him can learn to braid in no time.”
“Actually, I took a course years ago. You’d be amazed what you can learn from how an unsub styles a victim’s hair! We practiced on cadavers,” Spencer starts enthusiastically.
Penelope blanches. “Okay, no. No no no. Spence, I love you, but no. No murder hair, please. I’ve come close enough today as it is.”
Reid blushes. “No problem. I...I’ll go check in with Hotch.” He scurries from the room.
She sighs and lets her head flop backwards onto the pillows. “Great. Now I’ve hurt his feelings AND I look like a mess.”
Derek fixes her with a stare. “My sisters taught me well, girl. And if I can deal with their incredible curls, your cute lil white girl hair is gonna be a walk in the park. Let me help.”
When Reid returns ten minutes later, Penelope is sporting two slightly lopsided braids and there’s a smug look on Morgan’s face. Reid opens his mouth to comment, but Morgan stops him with a glance. “That hair of yours is getting pretty long, Reid. And you sleep pretty soundly on the jet. You say a word to the team and you’ll be next, pretty boy,” he says. Reid’s mouth snaps shut and Penelope settles back against her pillows with a smirk.