So I guess this is an interlude of things to come. I guess. It's short, it's quick, it's... rather frightening. I think. I hope.

Uhm... I guess I'm back with new fandom loves? Enjoy.

Takes place before Phantom Planet. After 05x09: 100. So yep. Some people died.

I own nothing. I wish I did own Hotch, though. Y'all can take Reid.

Chapter I: Past Times

I have never yet heard of a murderer who was not afraid of a ghost.
John Philpot Curran

Amity Park, Minnesota.

Detective Josh Brandt had seen very little in his days with the Amity Park Police Department in terms of murder. Theft, vandalism, obstructions of justice? He dealt with those on an almost-daily basis. Murders were completely different, leaving the entire city reeling in shock for days at a time. Everyone knew everybody, and there was only so much you could really do without someone hearing about it, then spreading the rumor like a wildfire. Simple as that.

People had grudges, sure. That was to be expected.

But grudges were completely different from what horrifying crime scene he had just stepped upon.

It was late. He had a family—wife, two kids, a dog. He'd promised them dinner that night when he got a phone call from the local hospital. The woman on the other end was calm, but it was clear she had been disturbed by something. She said she had gotten a call from a mysterious individual with no name, but an address and only a few words. "I killed them both. Twenty-seven sixty-four Bear Lake Drive. Victims forty-one and forty-two." And that was it. With a heavy heart and a sick stomach, Brandt had decided to take it.

He had called his wife, told her he'd be late because something had come up. Naturally, she was disappointed and told him to take his time.

The minute he entered the crime scene, he wished someone else had taken the call. The couple was lying on the floor with the woman covered in her own blood, the man crumpled against the wall with a single gunshot wound. Brandt had no idea who could have done something this horrible, and he knew he'd have to wait for the crime scene investigators to get there to see how bad the wounds of the young woman were. With a quick look around, he surveyed the area and sighed a little before…

Brandt froze. There was a familiar symbol painted on the window of the house. One he recognized from a certain book he had read about serial killers. His face studied it before he turned to the bodies and saw another note on the other window. One that wasn't there before. "Deal?" His stomach lurched, and he forced himself to take a deep breath before shaking his head.

He knew as well as the rest of the city that ghosts existed. But this? This was insane.

Brandt took out his phone, dialing a number and shaking a little. "Vasquez… you need to see this… …it's bad. Really bad."

Danny Fenton was under the impression something very bad had happened when he reached his high school that morning.

If the screaming headlines of two murdered teenagers didn't give it away, it was the simple scene of kids huddling together. They looked terrified, hovering over newspapers and pointing to the article and whispering amongst themselves. No one stole a glance at the half-ghost, who walked to class with a strange feeling in his stomach. No one talked to him in the halls, no one bothered even to stuff him in a locker in the football locker room. It didn't bother him too much, but still.

"Danny!"

Turning around, the raven-hared teenager saw his girlfriend running up to him with their other best friend in tow, clutching a newspaper. Sam Manson was pale, and not in a good way. Usually, she wore no make-up and was generally an all-around pale individual. But she looked spooked—like she had seen a ghost in the hallway. That was a regular occurrence, but today was no laughing matter. Sam Manson shoved the paper in his hands and pointed to the article, sniffling. "Did you read this?"

Danny flipped open the paper, Tucker Foley typing furiously on his PDA and speaking in a hushed tone. "Dude, they're saying this is was done by a ghost."

Reading the article, the half-ghost teenager peeked over the top of it to give his best friend a skeptical eye-raise. "A ghost?"

He continued reading to himself, Tucker babbling on and reading off his PDA. "No footprints, no traces of any weapons… they haven't got a clue who did this, but local police are saying it could be a ghost!"

In all his years—three of them—of being the hero of Amity Park, Danny Phantom, he had never met a ghost who could have had the capacity to kill except one. Danny folded the paper back and sighed a little, biting his lip and beginning to walk to class. Sam followed him, frowning softly and tilting her head. "What're you thinking? I can see you've already got some idea about this, and it hasn't even hit the news hard yet."

Danny shook his head, slipping into the back of the classroom and taking a deep breath. He sat down, pulling out the paper and biting his lip as Tucker read something on his monitor. "If this is a—a ghost, I can only think of one with the potential to actually kill someone. And he's holed up in his office at City Hall right now." He shook his head, reading the article more closely now before freezing and scanning the paper once again. "…oh my god…"

Sam sat next to him, peeking over his shoulder. "What?"

"…the people killed…" Danny murmured faintly, leaning back in his chair and feeling a wave of nausea hit him. "I don't…"

Tucker's face was grim. "Yeah, dude. Them."

Quantico, Virginia.

Supervisory Special Agent Jennifer "JJ" Jareau had no idea how the case had made its way to her desk so quickly. Apparently the murders had only happened hours before, but the case must've hit the chief and the city pretty hard. She opened up the envelope, pulling out some picture and scanning them before stopping on one of the crime scene pictures. Her brow furrowed before looking and standing up quickly. She scooped up the files and walked down to the office of her boss, knocking on his door.

"Come in."

She opened the door and griped the file before nodding a small greeting to Unit Chief Agent Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner and presenting him the pictures. "Just received this from Amity Park PD this morning."

He glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow. "Just this morning?"

"A murder of two teenagers in a small home in the city. The detective sent me these pictures this morning. I don't know how it got here so quickly, but… I think it's pretty urgent." JJ nodded to the photos, swallowing and watching his reaction. "I thought you'd like to see it before I made any decisions."

Hotch glanced through the pictures, making no sort of emotional reaction visible to the liaison expert until he reached the final picture. He leaned back in his chair and glanced up at her before nodding softly and standing up quickly. It was obvious something had shaken him about the final portrait, and he held on to the file before grabbing his briefcase and bag. "Get the team ready to go."

"Hotch, this just came in this morning!" she told him worriedly, following him out the door as he made his way downstairs. "What are you…?"

"I'll explain on the jet," he replied tersely, leaving the room.

JJ let out a frustrated sigh, letting a hand swing to her waist as Emily Prentiss stood up with a confused expression. Derek Morgan followed Hotch's departure as well, Spencer Reid absently playing with a Rubix cube and glancing up. "What just happened?" Emily asked quietly.

JJ turned to the others, looking exhausted. "Apparently we're going to Amity Park, Minnesota."

"What's all the way out there?" Morgan asked skeptically.

JJ shook her head, shrugging helplessly. "I'd ask, but I guess the crime scene pictures will explain everything on the plane." She turned to the others, who looked confused. "He thinks he's alive."

That was more than enough to get everyone moving.