Unit chief Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner walked into the director's office and looked at the young man sitting across from the dumpy blond woman known as Erin Strauss. He was thin and had light brown hair that had been slicked back against his skull and tucked behind his ears sharply. He kooked like he was in his early twenties, but dressed like he was in his late sixties with brown chords and a red cardigan over a white dress shirt and blue tie. The horn rimmed glasses he wore all but dominated his face and the slight glare almost fully obscured the sweet brown of his eyes. His hands fidgeted nervously around the strap of his leather satchel and his tongue darted out to wet his lips frequently.

"Agent Hotchner," Strauss said, "This is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm assigning him to your team."

"With all due respect ma'am," Hotch said, "I haven't heard anything about this, nor have I approved anything. We're about to leave on a case."

"That case is precisely why I want Doctor Reid to go with you." Strauss replied evenly, "He has an insight that will be invaluable. He was hand picked by agent Gideon. He's going with you, agent Hotchner, and that is my final word."

Doctor Reid had followed Hotch as he was ordered and soon found himself on the jet with the rest of the team. A dark haired woman, a blond, a dark haired man who was graying, the man he knew to be agent Gideon and a black man that reminded Reid way too much of the guys who beat up on him in high school. They all looked at him like he was from another planet and Reid was reminded once again that he did indeed deserve that look sometimes when the pages of the file Gideon was reading started to rustle on their own. Reid quickly got control and Gideon, the only one who knew what exactly Reid could do, smiled gently at him.

"Everyone," Hotch said, "The director has just informed me that we have a new member of the team. Doctor Spencer Reid will be accompanying us on this case as a bit of a test run, if you will. He was hand-picked by Gideon to join the BAU. Doctor Reid, you already know agent Gideon, but his is the rest of the team: Elle," the dark-haired woman, "JJ," the blond, "David Rossi," the bearded one, "and Derek Morgan," the chocolate skinned man. "Everyone, this is Doctor Reid."

"The skinny kid?" Morgan asked, raising his eye brows. "I used to steal lunch money from kids like him."

"Jail bait," Elle said.

"Exactly how old are you, Doctor?" Rossi asked.

"Twenty five years, seven months, three weeks, two days, nine hours and thirty seven minutes." Reid asked without thinking.

"Okay, let's get to work." Hotch said, effectively ending open season on the young doctor. Everyone took seats around table on the jet and began to flip through the case file. Out of the corner of her eye, Elle watched Reid's eyes dart over the pages at top speed, flipping every few seconds and only stopping to peer at crime scene photos.

"You do realize," Elle said snidely, "That you actually have to read the file, not just skim it, right?" Reid looked at her, slightly confused.

"I read twenty thousand words per minute." Reid said. "That and I already know what they put down about the schizophrenic victim."

"How?" Morgan asked from the other side of the table.

"My mother is schizophrenic, when I was a kid I ready everything I could get my hands on about it. Considering that I had the Caltech library and several other ones at my disposable, it was quite a bit." He frowned at the file in front of him. "They way he kills them, it's interesting. It says they died of asphyxiation, but there were no marks to prove that."

"They also had bruises on their lungs." Rossi added. "How does that even happen? There's no external bruising at all."

"At least we know the MO is the same every time," Morgan said, "What we don't have is a pattern between the victims. A schizophrenic woman, a drug dealer, a drug addict, a business man, a plumber and a kid. It goes through all races, genders, ages and body types. What could this guy possibly have found in common with all of them?"

"I'll have Garcia run back ground checks." JJ offered.

"Garcia?" Reid asked just as a plump blond woman appeared on the computer screen in the middle of the table.

"You called, angel fish?" she said. "Oh my! Who is this delectably desirable piece of library cutie who sits before me?" she asked, eying up Reid, who shifted nervously and looked down at his file again.

"Garcia," Hotch said, "This is Doctor Spencer Reid; Doctor, this is our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia."

"Spencer Reid?" Garcia repeated. "The Spencer Reid? The same one who graduated high school at twelve and went on to get three doctorates and two BA's before twenty one when he entered the FBI academy at the request of our very own Gideon?"

"Yes?" Reid said, a bit unsure of himself. He jumped when the woman squealed with delight.

"Oh my gosh, those pictures of you in the scenic journals do not do you justice, doctor!"

"Garcia,"Hotch snapped.

"Sorry sir."

"I need you to run back ground checks on all the victims, look for any connection. Oh, and stop scaring Doctor Reid, he's no good to us if he's petrified."

"Right away, sir!"

The screen went black and Reid noticed that Morgan's coffee was acting oddly, the dark liquid bouncing around in the Styrofoam cup despite the lack of turbulence. Reid willed it to calm down, gripping his knee until it hurt to help ground him. Once it had stopped sloshing, Gideon sent him an amused look from where he sat on Reid's right and dropped a piece of lined paper onto his lap. Reid, feeling much like a high schooler again as he opened the note, read it in a glance and shook his head at Gideon. Gideon shrugged.

"Suit yourself," he said.

"Gideon," Hotch said once everyone was off in their own little worlds, waiting for the plane to land in Nevada, "There's something you're not telling me about Doctor Reid."

"First off, just call him Reid," Gideon suggested. "Always introduce him as doctor though, it will help make people not see him so much as a kid. Just call him Reid, or even Spencer. Second thing is, be a bit patient with him. He's had a rough life and bringing him on to this case probably was one of the director's worst ideas yet, but we can deal with it. Spencer has a lot of history in Nevada, you may have to tread lightly around him if things get bad enough,"

"And why would that be?"

"You saw the reason why on a very small scale just a few hours ago. Now, if you'll excuse me." Gideon let and sat down on one of the bench seats, by Reid's feet. The kid had lay down with his head pillowed on his cardigan and lanky form curled up as much as it could be. Hotch sighed; Reid had the right idea. Best to get some sleep now.

(o)

The sun shown brightly on the suburbs of Les Vegas, Nevada and most of the team looked comfortable. Reid, however, looked right at home as he looked around the police station, nodding to himself. It was a modest station, filled with ringing phones and bustling interns carrying stacks of paper work from room to room, desk to desk. The chief was one Eric Brown and the BAU team was on their way to meet him.

"What's got you nodding, kid?" Morgan asked.

"Just that this place hasn't changed much from when I was a kid, that's all." Reid said.

"You came here as a kid?"

"Yeah, I lived about four streets over from here until I was twelve. My mom dragged me here a lot to try and file reports against the guys who used to get after me, but it never really worked. There was always too little evidence or the guy's dad worked here."

"That bites, man." Morgan said, clapping Reid's shoulder. Reid flinched away a bit and then skillfully maneuvered out from under the hand.

"Sorry, I'm just not a physical person." Reid explained.

The conversation was cut short when chief Brown strode up to Hotch, and then right passed him to Reid. The team watched as Reid tensed and Brown took a careful look at him before bursting out laughing.

"Well if it isn't Spencer Reid." Brown said. "What are you doing here, man? Thought you moved years ago. Damn, guess you're just not that easy to get rid of. Just sit tight for a moment, I have to deal with some FBI jackasses that the higher ups asked to come here to help solve some local murders. Like I need their help with this, I have it all under control, even got myself a suspect in custody."

"Chief Brown," Hotch said as he stepped to stand beside Reid, "I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I see that you've already met Doctor Reid, but the rest of the team is behind you. Agents Morgan, Elle, Rossi and Gideon, along with our lesion, Jeniffer Jarue."

"Well I'll be damned, they actually sent you. Never mind. I'm Chief Brown. You all can set up in that room over there." Brown pointed over his shoulder to a conference room where a few cork boards and a white board had been set up, along with a table and a few chairs.

"Thank you." Hotch said.

Once they began setting up everything in the conference room, Hotch gave out assignments.

"Morgan, Elle, I want the two of you to go to crime scenes one, three and five. Gideon and Rossi take two four and six. Reid and I will stay beck here and interview chief Brown's suspect."

"Spencer," Gideon said right before he walked out he door, "Remember what you need to do if you have to do anything." Reid nodded and Hotch looked between the two of them, clearly expecting and explanation. "Don't worry, Hotch," Gideon continued, "It'll all make sense soon."

"Are you going to explain that?" Hotch asked once Gideon had gone.

"I'm under orders from the director not to say unless extenuating circumstances cone about." Reid said, not looking at Hotch.

"Like what?"

"Like if I'm about to get shot."

"Reid, you're on m team, if this is something that could be potential harmful to any of us or anyone else, I need to know. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I just don't think that you're going to be very ah, happy with what it is. It's quite unbelievable actually, I can barely believe it most days and it's me doing it."

"What? Are you going to tell me your a psychic or something?"

"I wish. That would have made life so much easier. I'm sorry, sir, but I'm under direct orders." Hotch sighed.

"I understand. By the way, it's just Hotch." He turned to the board and began pinning things up. Maps, pictures of crime scenes, victims, anything that might help them. Reid flipped though the files, trying to come up with a connection. He nearly screamed when Garcia popped onto the computer screen in front of him.

"Never would have taken you for a screamer," Garcia joked, "Always the quiet ones, isn't it?" Reid turned bright red when he caught on to the meaning and Hotch stepped in to save him.

"Garcia, what do you have?"

"Well, sir, you are so not going to believe this. All of these poor people were under investigation by the government and going to a hospital regularly to receive something. Looks like they were being monitored, but I don't know what for. It says 'Subject is showing more ability with each test. Can left and hold up to twenty seven pounds now and has progressed to attempting to stop and move living things. Seems promising.' That was from our little boy's file, Jeffery Tomas. What could it be?"

"I don't know. And the others?" Hotch asked, coming and leaning over Spencer so that Garcia could see his face in the screen.

"The same. All cryptic-sounding files that don't show what they were talking about. I think that's the connection."

"Good work. What's the name of the hospital?"

"Grand Star, about ten minutes from where you are now. I'm sending directions to your PDA now."

"Thanks." The screen blacked out and Hotch straighted. "I'll tell the team where we're headed. Go on out to the car for now." Reid nodded and did as he was told, gather files and putting them into his bag as he went.

When Hotch finished calling and letting the team know they were headed to the hospital, he headed outside. Reid was leaning against the car and looked to be in distress, arguing with someone over the phone.

"-No, don't tell her! You'll send her into an episode if she knows where I'm going... Yes, you are her doctor but I'm her son and no matter what you think if she finds out I'm going to a hospital with someone from the FBI, no matter if he's my boss or not, she is going to react and you are going to have to sedate her and then where will we be?... I'll see if I can, but I don't know. Give mom my love and tell her I'll try and be in touch...Thank you. Bye." Reid slipped his phone back into his packet and ran his hands through his hair.

"Is everything alright?" Hotch asked, startling the other man.

"Oh, uh, yes. Just my mom's doctor calling. We ready to go?"

The ride to the hospital was filled with silence. Reid had pulled out a leather bound book and was flipping the page every few seconds or so. Looking form the corner of his eye, Hotch could swear that the boy wasn't turning the pages at all, that they were turning themselves. But that was ridicules, pages didn't turn themselves. Hotch mentally shook himself and went back to watching the road, paying to mind to the young man next to him.

The inside of the hospital was surprisingly warm and lacked that disinfectant smell that always seemed to stick to the back of Hotch's throat. A nurse dressed in pink scrubs walked up to them and Hotch introduced himself and Reid, flashing his credentials. The nurse had nodded and went to get one of the higher-ups.

"Spencer Reid?" the doctor that came to them crooned. "I haven't seen you in ages!" He was a plump little man who reached up and seized Reid's cheeks, yanking him down so that they were level and planting a loud kiss on either side of his face. After some more crooning from the plump little man with the waxed mustache, Hotch cleared his throat.

"Doctor, we were hoping you could answer some questions about a few of your patients for us." Hotch told him.

"Sorry, doctor-patient privilege, By the way, I am Mario Pierre, head o this facility."

"Doctor Pierre, these patients are dead. They were found murdered."

"I am sorry, but-"

"Doctor," Reid cut in, digging through his pocket to find his wallet. He flipped it open to his drivers license, which showed a goofy-ish picture that didn't look half bad. "These patients were like this."

Hotch was confused. The patients were like what? But Mario seemed to get it anyway and paled drastically before dragging the two agents into his office. The door was then shut and locked, the blinds drawn and the phone unhooked from the jack.

"You were saying?" Reid took the files out of his satchel and lay them out on the table. "I was wondering where they had gone to., They've all missed their appointments."

"Doctor, what were these appointments for?" Hotch asked, not one to beat around the bush.

"Why, training, of course, for their PK. Surely Spencer would have been able to tell you that if he knew what hospital you were going to. He came here himself when he was child and knows what any Grad Star facility does." Mario turned to Reid. "He can be trusted, yes?"

"I believe so, however, in light of the fact that I never explained any of that to agent Hotchner, the results of this could be less than desirable. The director knew, but I was under strict orders from the highest ups not to say anything unless I was put into a life threatening situation. Which, judging by the look on his face, could be right about now."

Hotch stopped feeling quite so murderous and switched right to confused when the blinds started trembling of their own violation and the files started flipping pages despite no one touching them. Hotch reached for his gun, but Doctor Pierre grabbed his wrist, shaking his head and pointing to Reid, who had his eyes shut and his hands raised to his chest, palms down. He forced his hands down, like he was fighting against a physical barrier and things stopped moving. Reid was left gasping and fell into the nearest chair. Pierre rushed to get his a cup of coffee, dumping a seizable measure of sugar into it and stirring it quickly before shoving it into Reid's hands.

"You still don't have total control when he get nervous or frightened, do you?" Pierre asked, stroking Reid's hair back from his sweaty forehead affectionately. Reid shook his head and gulped at his coffee.

"No physical anchor, no control." Reid looked up at Hotch, who was still staring dumb-struck around the room. "That is what you weren't supposed to find out, Hotch."

"What was 'that'?" Hotch asked, not sure if he actually wanted an answer.

"A small display of nervous energy form a very powerful young man." Pierre provided. "Spencer, like my patients, your victims, has the gift of PK, or psychokinesis. He can move things with only his mind and, if he works a bit at it, see into the mids of others, That, however, is very dangerous. One never knows what horrors lurk inside the human mind, waiting to jump out and snare you someone else's personal Hell forever."

"Please, don't think so loud." Reid requested quietly.

Well, thought Hotch, that's a new one.

"I think you should take Spencer back to wherever you're staying and make him lie down." Pierre suggested. "Call me if you need me. Also, be advised that leaving him alone for too long in this state can be very dangerous."

"Thank you, doctor." Hotch gathered the files, and then Reid, who didn't seemed to be able to stand up to easily. After a brief sort trough his bag, he came up with a A brown rod that, after a flick of the wrist, extended into a cane. Reid used it to help himself hobble out, occasionally clutching Hotch's offered arm.

"Sorry, my knee acts up sometimes, especially after a bender like that." Reid explained.

"What happened to it?"

"A few years ago some guy, also PK, didn't believe that I could stop a bullet o he drugged me and shot me in the knee. The version in my file is that I was abducted and shot by a random guy and the consequents were being addicted to Dilaudid for eight months and having a bad knee."

"All this covering up for something that most people don't even believe in." Hotch mussed to himself.

"The covering up is so that most people won't believe it. People with PK are the governments greatest asset right now. We volunteer, though, no one forces us to help. Before this case came up I was actually going to be a teacher, help people develop and control their PK."

"I'm sorry that you can't do that anymore."

"No, I'm thanking you for that, I'm not good with people."

It was getting close to full dark, so Hotch called the rest of the team and told them to meet himself and Reid back at the hotel for some rest. After a quick sorting of who was going to sleep where, Hotch sent Reid up to bed and followed quickly after. What he found when he got to the room made him room his eyes, but in a good natured way.

Reid was curled up in the middle of his bed, one arm under his head, anchoring a pillow in place, while his other hand rested on the open pages of a book, trying to keep his place. His glasses were lop=sided on his face and not doubt digging into the side of his head. He looked like a child, Hotch thought. Then he took a closer look around the room and saw that a faint glow was coming from near Reid's head, giving him a angelic look.

"Great. A floating light bulb."

If you want more of "Mind Games" you must review. By the way, as this is AU, Hotch isn't with Haley at the moment. The explanation for that will come later, promise. Also rolling around in my head right now is Harry Potter, my favorite books, so be warned.