I know I have had a long hiatus writing here, honestly life came in and said 'hey, you're not going to write for a long time' haha. Now my long awaited return has come, and this is what I'm writing to make up for it!

(Morgan's POV)

I sat there, time ticking away. The restaurant itself was quite noisy. There was the constant chatter of the other couples surrounding me mixed in with the noise coming from the kitchen area. An ear-splitting wail would come from the same toddler every 15 minutes or so. It was getting to the point where I'd pull my hair out if I had any. All of that noise had faded in the background. The only thing I was able to hear was the ticking of the clock. I looked ahead of me, desperately trying to not glance at the clock. My knee started bouncing ever so slightly under the table. From a distance, you wouldn't have been able to notice it. It was a detail you would only notice close up. I tried to keep my whole demeanor calm as I sat at the table alone. No one needs to know that I may have been stood up. Are you kidding me? She wouldn't stand me up! Where did all the confidence go huh? So much for being a man of confidence and charm.

In the midst of having this mental debate, a waiter walked by my table. Once he had caught my eyes, the waiter got a sympathetic look on his face. He did a small shoulder shrug as if to say, 'hey, what are you going to do about it?' Instead of looking at the clock, my eyes shifted towards my wristwatch. 9:40 pm. That's 40 minutes late. Maybe she just ran into some traffic? At almost 10 o'clock at night, in this town? I doubt it.

Sighing, I began to stand up from my chair. If she wasn't coming here, I would find her. My fingers clasped around my leather jacket that was hanging off the back of the chair. I all but ripped it off the chair as my anger started to boil over. I had a pretty high anger tolerance level, but once it started to overflow it didn't take long. The jacket hung in my hand as I started to walk out of the restaurant. When I walked by other tables, most of them gave me looks. The men couldn't give a shit even if they wanted to, but the woman that were in here was a different story. Most of them gave me a look that told me they knew what had happened. How they knew or why, I will never know.

After I finally made my way out of the restaurant, I took a deep breath in. Now that I was out here, I had no idea what to do. As I was trying to decide what to do, my phone started going off in my pocket. Without thinking, I pulled it out of my pocket. I told myself that it was most likely her as I answered the call.

"Hello?" It came out in a rushed breath. The urgency in my voice could not be masked.

"Someone's excited.." JJ answered with a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Not to be rude JJ, but I was hoping it was someone else."

"Let me guess, Garcia?" My curiosity was peaked. Am I that predictable or is she some sort of psychic?

"How did you know?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, I remember she had your date with you tonight," I interrupted JJ by saying, "It's not a date."

"Morgan, you and I both know that's bullshit," She took a deep breath. "As I was saying, I knew she was with you. By the sounds of it, Penelope hasn't shown?" I think JJ meant it was more of a statement, but it came out a question.

"No, she hasn't come yet. She's probably just stuck in traffic."

"She told me that she was there 50 minutes ago Derek."

"Well, if she's not here then where the hell is she?" My voice started to increase in volume. I had now caught the attention of a few pedestrians. I let out a breath.

"Look, I'll make my way around the next few blocks. See if Garcia got lost somehow. I'll call you later if I find her." I didn't let JJ respond as I hung up the phone and put it in my pocket. Where could she have even ended up? Penelope's doesn't a sense of direction, but this bad? A feeling in my gut started to emerge. Something wasn't right in this situation, there's something wrong.

I shook my head as I turned into a nearby alleyway. What am I saying? She probably just got lost. Besides, if anything were to happen to her, Garcia has the switchblade that I make her carry around. There almost no lights illuminating the alley. The only light post was half way down but lit up almost the entire alley. My boots crushed the loose gravel as I made my way down. Old garbage cans and mold-covered cardboard boxes covered both sides. I had to avoid stepping on the bottles that were strewn all over the ground.

A garbage can fell over, making a large tin as it fell to the ground. My right hand flew to the Glock at my side. Once, I realized that it was just a garbage can my hand went back to normal position. With my eyes scanning the alley, I noticed a figure curled up on the ground. Their back was facing me, so I wasn't able to tell who they were.

"It's probably just a homeless guy..." I muttered to myself as I continued on my way. As I passed by the figure, something by the figure caught my attention. A pair of glasses with one lens broken laid by them. The deep blue coloring of the glasses were vaguely familiar. My mind couldn't place where I knew them from. As I stood there trying to remember where those came from, it hit me. Garcia's. They're one of the countless pairs she owns. Now I know this sounds crazy. Tons of people could have that pair of glasses, but believe me when I say they are her's.

My hand flew to the Glock yet again as I stepped closer to the figure. My footsteps were cautious as I got closer to them.I got maybe a foot away from them before my breath caught in my throat. Those glasses are her's because that is Penelope. All I could manage to see was the slight blood pool that had formed by her head.

"Jesus fucking christ..." I mumbled while taking a few steps back. With my eyes riveted on her body, I mindlessly pulled my phone back out of my pocket. I hit the redial button then put the phone to my ear. I kept taking deep breaths, hoping that it would help with the nauseating feeling that was rising up.

"What do you have Morgan?" JJ answered.

"I found her JJ, I found her. Just call an ambulance." My phone dropped out of my hand. I slid down to sit on the ground, my eyes still glued to her figure there.

~A few hours later~

Instead of sitting in the alley blankly staring at her as she laid on the ground, I'm now sitting in the waiting room staring blankly at the wall ahead of me. Now was probably the wrong time to realize this but I left my phone in the alley. I have more important things to deal with at this point. Everyone from the team is here along with me. Emily and JJ sit side by side as they try making small talk trying to their feelings about the situation. Hotch, Rossi, and Reid are all scattered about the room. They all sit there, their eyes focusing on everything but the doors leading to ICU. We all had a connection with her, just some were stronger than others. Most of the team would argue that I have the best connection due to the fact that she was my best friend. That may be true, but the fact is that we all love her just equally and we're all saying prayers to god to make sure Garcia makes it out of this with little to no damage.

All of us had already gotten the prognosis. Penelope had suffered blunt force trauma to the side of her head. The doctor knows some sort of wooden weapon was the cause as there were wooden splinters in her wound. 2 hours ago he had told us that he would try and remove the splinters from the wound. Now we just sit here and wait. When the doors to the ICU opened, we all picked our head up and looked towards the doors. The doctor had come out with a straight.

"You're all here for Penelope Garcia?"

"Yes, now what's the situation?" Hotch matched the Doctor's straight face with one of his own.

"We were able to get the splinters out of her head wound. When she woke up difficulties came up. She was showing symptoms of confusion and disorientation. I've been Ms. Garcia's doctor for more than 5 years. She was unable to recognise my face. Which worried me, so I ran some tests."

"What tests? And what the hell is wrong with her?" I said between clenched teeth. As I stood up from my chair, Rossi had put his arm in front of me. I took that as my sign to sit back down.

"I believed she may have some sort of Amnesia caused by the blunt force trauma. I ran a CT scan on her to see if the damage was severe enough to cause that. When the results had come back, I noticed that the damage wasn't severe enough to cause Prosopamnesia, what I thought she had in the first place. I've concluded that she had Traumatic Amnesia."

"How is that different from normal Amnesia?" Emily asked the doctor. Instead of him answering Emily, Reid chimes in with an answer.

"Traumatic Amnesia is usually caused by a hard blow to your skull. Amnesia is a strong indicator of concussions." I looked back at the doctor and could have sworn he was glaring at Spencer. The one time he had to be a nerd.

"Yes, and in the case of Ms. Garcia she does have a concussion. There's no telling how long the Amnesia may last, but my guess is no longer than a few days."

"Can I see her?" I rushed out.

"Do you think that it's really a good idea Morgan? I mean at this point?" JJ questioned me as I stood up from my chair.

"I'm going in there. Penelope went out to see me, I'm the reason she's like this. I need to see her." Nobody else had protested, so I followed the doctor as he led me to her room. It wasn't long before I was standing outside her door, alone. I have no idea why it seemed my feet were glued to the floor. After a minute or so, I gathered up all the courage I could. As I opened the door, she glanced towards. Garcia was starting to get some color into face once again.

"Hey there..." I managed to get out as I stood a few feet away from her. In her bed, she tilted her head as she studied me. I stood there, letting her stare at me for awhile until she finally spoke up.

"And you are?"