PROLOGUE | peanut butter toast

ONE DAY YOU WILL TELL YOUR STORY
OF HOW YOU OVERCAME WHAT YOU
WENT THROUGH AND IT WILL BE
SOMEONE ELSES SURVIVAL GUIDE.
— brene brown.

   THE MORNING LIGHT SEEPED THROUGH the blinds softly, warming the skin on Mercy's back. Her head rested on Derek's chest, and her long black hair trailing behind her. The gray sheets were pulled up to her chest, covering the oversized blue t-shirt she wore. It was Derek's, of course, but his shirts made her feel safe, even when she was with him. Her dark brown eyes peered up at him through thick lashes, studying his features as he slept. It was early; just after dawn. It wasn't often she woke up before him. He had a strict internal clock that woke him up at seven in the morning, every morning, no matter how much sleep he'd gotten the night before.

     It had taken them a long time to become as comfortable with each other as they were. Well, it had taken Mercy a long time to become comfortable. She was a very private person, one who didn't often allow herself to be vulnerable in front of others. The quiet voice in the back of her mind reminded her it was because of her past, but she hushed it quickly. She'd only recently allowed herself to let go of her past, to forget the horrors that once plagued her nightmares.

     Derek made it easier. He helped her heal, and because of him, she'd learned what real love felt like. Love wasn't harsh and overly demanding. Love was work, it was growth and happiness, even in the hardest of times. Mercy thanked whoever had given her Derek Morgan every day. He was sweet to her, and deep down she knew she deserved it, after everything she'd been through.

     Mercy hummed quietly, reaching down and slowly removing the hand that held her waist before rolling out of the large bed. Derek stirred slightly before turning over in his sleep, reaching out toward Mercy's side of the bed. She slept furthest from the door, like Derek had requested. He was a protector, it was his nature. The thought of her being closest to danger made him uneasy, and it came with an easy solution Mercy eventually caved into. She walked around the bed, tip-toeing as to not disturb her boyfriends sleep. Her legs were sore, reminding her of the previous night's adventures, which made her smile slyly. She headed to the bathroom, grabbing her toothbrush as soon as she entered the space.

     Morning breath was her mortal enemy. She couldn't stand the feeling of a dry mouth nor the bitter taste. She brushed her teeth throughly before heading out of the bathroom. Her feet were cold on the wood floor, and she wrapped her arms around herself. The kitchen was her next destination, reaching up in the cupboard to grab a loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter. She popped two pieces of toast down in the toaster before walking to the island, hopping up on one of the stools and crossing her legs.

     Early mornings were her favorite, though she was by no means an early riser. Early mornings reminded her of Derek. They were for soft touches, intimate conversations and relaxing. Early mornings were made up of warm cups of coffee, slow traffic and long glances. She stared out the bay window, chin resting in her hand, legs crossed on the stool she sat on. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, small strands free and framing her face.

     Early mornings were a lot of things, and they were not late nights. Late nights consisted of wandering hands, emerald eyes, and harsh words. They were yelling, cheap scotch, and stuffy bars. Stiff motel beds, lingering feelings of hopelessness, and restless nights of sleep. Late nights were long car rides, second thoughts and sharp tongues.

     Early mornings were a stark contrast to late nights, and for that Mercedes Swan was more than grateful.

     A gentle hand made its way to the back of her neck, lips pressed against the top of her head in a sweet kiss. Her lips curled into a bashful smile, and she met eyes with her lover. "Good morning, silly girl." Derek's voice was still rough with sleep, and she relished in the sound. She hummed, slipping off the stool to stand in front of Derek.

     "Good morning." She murmured, wrapping an arm around herself. He noticed her body language, smiling softly at her. Though they'd known each other for six years, been dating for two, and living together for more than eight months, she was still as shy as the first time she slept over. After a moment, she held her arms open, not making eye contact with him. He enveloped her in a warm hug, hand rubbing her lower back. She sighed happily, leaning into his touch. Derek couldn't help but grow ever so sad at her request. He knew she struggled with asking for things, especially touch, which he was more than happy to give most of the time. He pondered over who in the world could have made his girl so nervous to ask for something as simple as a hug, and tightened his grip ever so slightly.

     She slowly pulled away at the sound of the toaster popping, grabbing a butter knife and a plate from the dish rack beside the sink. She grabbed a banana out of the bowl on the counter before fishing the toast, ever so slightly burnt (just how she liked it), out of the toaster, cursing under her breath at the still hot bread. Derek made his way to the coffee machine, starting a small pot as she fixed her breakfast.

     They moved around each other with ease, as if they'd been doing it their whole lives. She cut half of the banana into thin slices, laying it down on the peanut butter toast. She held the other half of the banana out to Derek mindlessly, who leaned over to take a bite of it. She would hold it out to him every few minutes, holding one piece of toast in her other hand. When the other half of the banana was gone, she threw away the peel and took the rest of her breakfast back over to the island, returning to her previous seat. Derek poured two cups of coffee, making sure to grab Mercy's favorite mug. His coffee remained black, while he added a splash of sweet hazelnut creamer to hers. He slid the mug to Mercy before taking a seat beside her, his fond gaze never leaving her face.

     She looked at him with a happy smile, her mouth full of toast and a little bit of peanut butter smeared on her upper lip. Derek couldn't have thought she was more beautiful in that moment. She wiped her mouth before reaching for the mug with both hands, relishing in the warmth it provided.

     You could say they hadn't quite exited the 'honeymoon' phase of their relationship. Though, Derek thought that was how the best relationships always felt; a perpetual honeymoon phase. Sure, they had their arguments, but they were never not happy. Mercy Swan was one of a kind, and Derek Morgan made sure she knew it.

     They remained like that for a long while, silent save for Mercy's quiet chewing. The cups of coffee slowly emptied, waking them from their sleepy states. The toast was gone and the plate found its way to the sink, crumbs rinsed off, accompanied by her floral mug. She kept Derek company as he refilled his mug, legs dangling off the stool as they spoke in hushed voices. They lived alone, but early mornings required quiet talking.

     Soon Derek made his way to the bathroom, the water from the shower serving as background noise. Mercy remained in the kitchen for a few more minutes, savoring the quiet that came with Saturday morning. Just eight years prior, she'd been in a very different situation with one emerald green eyed Winchester. He plagued her thoughts more often than she would have liked, and she'd come to accept she'd never fully get rid of him. Before long she was back in the bedroom, getting dressed and ready for the day.

     It was their first day off in a long time, and there were no plans other than to enjoy each others company in the cozy apartment. Mercy's hand tugged at her black long sleeve shirt, taming her hair in the mirror of her vanity. She was ready to relax and take her mind off of the many back to back cases they'd worked in the past month.

Though, when you work in the FBI, relaxation isn't really apart of the package.

Mercy's phone rang from the bedside table, and she had a gut feeling it was Hotch. She was proved right when she looked at the caller ID. She had to hold back a sigh before answering, putting the phone to her ear. "Mercy here."

"We've got a case in Nebraska- it's a pretty bad one. How fast can you two get here?" He asked, not bothering to elaborate on who he was talking about. She knew. Everyone spoke of her and Morgan as one. When they weren't at work, they were together. They were a team, and a great one at that.

Derek walked into the room at that moment, towel tied low on his waist, looking at her expectantly. She raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'what do you think?' before directing her attention back to the phone. She sighed slightly before nodding to herself. "Give us twenty." She answered, listening to Hotch's short apology before nodding and hanging up. She didn't miss the short spark of exasperation in Derek's eye, smiling softly at him.

"Serial killers don't take the weekends off, huh?" He asked only half-jokingly, Mercy shrugging in reply.

"They don't seem to realize we have lives of our own, do they? Get dressed, Morgs. We've got crime fighting to do." She patted his shoulder on her way to her dresser, picking out work clothes to change into. He sighed to himself, walking to his own dresser.

"We always do, don't we?"

They entered the bullpen together, sitting down next to each other in sync. The rest of the team didn't bat an eye; they were more than used to their almost impossible synchronization at this point. Rossi entered soon after them. They all looked to JJ expectantly, before Hotch entered and held up a hand. "I've got this one." He said to her quietly, looking at the rest of the team. His voice was calm and collected. He didn't seem to lose the air of seriousness ever, even at eight in the morning.

The screen flipped to a headless body, piquing the teams interest. "The body of Kennedy Carlston, twenty-three, was found early this morning, missing her head and canine teeth. It was later found in a separate location. The bodies of Gavin Hale, 48, and Marissa West, 36, were found as well, also beheaded and also missing teeth. Hale went missing almost a year ago, West almost five months ago, and Carlston just over a month ago." Hotch paused, looking around the room at the members of his team. They were all deep in thought, Mercy chewing on her thumbnail.

"They're speeding up." Morgan stated obviously, and Mercy nodded, agreeing with him.

     "There seems to be two distinct profiles. There are shallow wounds on the arms and chests of each victim, from what looks to be a cerated knife, before someone came in with a sharper blade and beheaded each victim." Mercy stated, studying the body's that were displayed on screen. Emily nodded her agreement, gazing up at the screen.

"Hesitation marks. There are defensive wounds as well, there's no way the unsub did this alone." She added, Hotch nodding from where he stood.

"They were all killed within the same night, and buried together. Same MO, same weapons. Rosebush police have requested our help, they think this is connected to a few other murders in the state. Wheels up in thirty." He said quickly, exiting the bullpen without a second thought.

The rest of the team stood, beginning to file out of the room, but Mercy hesitated. It looked so familiar, but she couldn't tell why. She was puzzled by the missing teeth, as well. She felt a hand on her shoulder, looking up quickly to see Derek.

"C'mon sweetheart, we'll go over it more on the jet." He said softly, and she nodded. She couldn't tell why she was so interested in this case, and stumped at the same time. She was missing something.

She closed the file, grabbing it before standing and following Derek out of the bullpen. She gathered a few things from her desk, setting them in her go bag before zipping it up, slinging it over her shoulder. She made her way over to Derek's desk, quietly listening to Spencer rant about something to do with cases with multiple unsubs.

Dereks hand made its way around her waist, and she rested her head on his shoulder. She knew they'd solve the case. They always did. No matter how difficult, no matter how muddy or however hopeless she felt, it always worked out in the end.

She'd just have to be patient until then.

authors note <3

domestic derek >>>>>

also im not trying to make dean out to be the villain in this at all! but we all have to agree he is prettyyyy problematic (ESPECIALLY when it comes to relationships). ik this part was a little boring but itll get better i pinky swear! thanks for reading 🤍