once we met | derek morgan. ✓

19 : morning sickness.

j u l e s .

I roll out of bed, hungover from clubbing with Luke and Emily the night before. I walk into the bathroom, rubbing my eyes, viewing the mess in the mirror. I don't remember anything that happened last night, except for Derek and I getting into an argument. I have no clue where Derek is either. He was supposed to spend the night at my place, but when I came home from clubbing, he wasn't there and wasn't answering his cell either.

I get a nauseous feeling in my lower abdomen before walking over to the toilet, lifting up the lid to let it all out.

I have had morning sickness every day since Rossi's dinner party six weeks ago.

Wait... A full six week of morning sickness... I think to myself for a minute.

When the hell was my last period!?

The thought of being pregnant makes me nauseous almost immediately. I run back over to the toilet, throwing up everything that I ate in the last three days.

Ten minutes pass before I get back up off the bathroom floor, walking into my bedroom.

This can't be happening... My dad will kill me. Dating his best friend is one thing...but getting pregnant after sleeping with his best friend!? I'll never hear the end of that conversation.

Scenarios of how my dad will react fill my mind -- "Be more safe next time Jules." or of course, "How are you gonna go into the field while pregnant? Do you know how dangerous that is for you and the baby?"

I run out of my apartment, declining Derek's call as I go to the nearby store, getting a pregnancy test.

There's no way I could be pregnant.

•••

d e r e k .

"Where's Jules?" I ask, walking into the bullpen.

Emily looks up from her desk, "I drove her home from clubbing last night. You weren't there when she got there?" She asks.

I shake my head, "No I wasn't. I talked Reid into going with me to a football game downtown and ended up falling asleep at his apartment when we got back." I explain.

Luke walks into the bullpen, "Jules isn't answering her cell. She could have slept in from the hangover."

I nod, taking a seat at my desk, opening up a case file and getting to work almost immediately.

•••

j u l e s .

As I walk back into my apartment, I kick off my shoes, opening the pregnancy test box.

I head straight to the bathroom, peeing on the stick and anxiously waiting.

There's a sudden knock at the front door as I open it.

Emily and Derek. Shit.

"Hey Derek. Hey Em. Uh- What's up?" I ask, as the two of them walk into my apartment, looking around.

"Everyone has been calling you." Derek states, turning to me.

I nod, "Yeah, I just slept in. You guys really didn't have to come here. I'm good." I state.

Em looks at me, "With all the stuff going on with your dad, I wouldn't trust that you're okay." She states as Derek nudges her.

"Emily, what the hell!" He whisper exclaims.

"Stuff going on with my dad...?" I ask in a low tone.

Derek clears his throat, "We have a new case at the bureau. They're putting your Mom and Jack in Witness Protection and Hotch wanted to talk to you about it." He explains.

I nod, "I'll go get ready right now." I state, running straight for my bedroom.

I get ready within a span of two minutes before heading into the bathroom, grabbing the pregnancy test of the sink counter.

Pregnant.

Great. Not only are my Mom and Jack going into Witness Protection...but I'm pregnant!

Life just took one huge spin. Fucking Hell.

I slip the pregnancy test into my purse, heading out of the bathroom.

"Ready to go?" Derek asks.

I nod, opening the front door to let Derek and Em out of my apartment.

The drive to the bureau is short and sweet. I feel small pains in my lower abdomen as we drive.

As we walk into the bullpen, I brush past everyone and head straight for the round table conference room.

"What the hell is going on?" I ask, storming into the conference room.

"Agent Hotchner, you're late." Hotch states, clearing his throat as I look over to JJ, signalling her to get out.

JJ hurries out, leaving me and Hotch alone in the room as she shuts the door behind her.

"When were you gonna tell me?" I ask.

"Soon.." He states, standing up.

I scoff, "Soon? But you told Derek and Emily almost immediately!?" I exclaim.

Hotch nears me, "Julianna Hotchner! Do not raise your voice with me! Okay? I told Emily and Derek to help me work the case under the wraps. If I told you, our whole family would be in trouble!" He exclaims in a low tone.

I nod in understanding, taking a seat.

"What are you doing?" Hotch asks in a low tone.

I scoff, looking up, "Taking a seat so I can look over the case files." I exclaim.

Hotch glares at me, "No, you are not. You're going to pack a bag so you can go into Witness Protection until I figure this out."

I scoff, standing up, "So I go into Witness Protection and you...you what? Work the case until the unsub fakes being an agent and comes after me, Jack, and mom in Witness Protection and then kills you? Yeah, no thank you." I state.

I shake my head, "I'm not losing you, mom, or Jack. I'm not risking it. I already lost having christmas in one house because you and Haley thought it would be a good idea to get a fucking divorce! Oh right! And then you fucking told me while you were drowning your sorrows in alcohol in front of the ENTIRE fucking team!" I exclaim.

Hotch clenches his jaw, "Julianna Hotchner! Lower your voice!" He states in a low, stern tone.

I shake my head, opening the bullpen door.

I step into the doorway, overlooking the entire bullpen, "Garcia, Reid, Rossi, JJ, Prentiss, Alvez, and Morgan!" I call out as they all look up at me, nodding, before leaving their desks and heading up the steps.

"Annie, what are you doing?" Hotch asks in a low, stern tone.

I glare at him, "My entire life, I have been living up to your standards. Now? I'm being the profiler that you raised me to be. I'm catching this son of a bitch, whether you like it or not." I state.

The entire team walks in, taking their seats.

I watch as Derek walks in, my eyes longing as I watch him take a seat.

He opens my purse, looking for gum.

Instead...he finds a pregnancy test.

Fuck.