Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.

William Reid shook his head, flipping to the next page on the newspaper he was reading. The press was having a field day with the suspected murders, no one could figure out why these people were apparently bashing their own heads open. He heard soft footfalls behind him and turned his head slightly to look at his wife. She smiled at him, looking like an angel with the sunlight reflecting off of her golden hair.

"Hey," He said quietly, resting a hand on her baby bump. She was a few months along and thinking about that he could push the worrisome deaths to the back of his mind. Their baby kicked, and she smiled.

"He's getting stronger every day," She commented. He chuckled affectionately.

"We don't even know if he will be a he." He pointed out, and she sighed.

"I've got a feeling," She told him. "A mother knows."

…

The months before she gave birth, Diana became increasingly paranoid. Not in a crazy "the-government-is-watching-me" kind of way, but more of an instinctual "I'm-not-safe" feeling. It unnerved William, not because he had the same feeling, but because his wife had sharp instincts. If she had a feeling about it, it was probably accurate. Despite the fact that her family had a history of mental illness- namely schizophrenia- he trusted her. He was aware that she wasn't on her meds, and refused to be while pregnant, but he didn't think it had anything to do with that. They got a dog, which only made her feel minimally better, but he would take what he could get.

…

Despite her husband's best efforts, Diana would not leave the house for any reason other than to go to the library and was adamant about never going out at night. She knew that something was watching her, waiting for an opening before it struck. She'd be damned if she let it get her that easy. She had read about the people bashing their heads in, and she knew it had something to do with this.

…

It was evening, and Diana Reid was sitting on her bed, reading. She could hear water running in the bathroom, William was in the shower, but she couldn't help but wish he was in the room with her. Their dog, a large German Shepherd named Ace, was sitting on the foot of the bed. William hated it when she let the dog on the bed, but it made her feel better. He started whining and she frowned, petting his head. This did nothing to calm him, and he growled low in his chest. He was looking around like he couldn't quite find what was distressing him. He stood abruptly, barking at the corner of the room between growls. The lights started flickering, and Ace crouched in front of her as mist seemed to materialize in the corner of her room. The mist then seemed to transform into the shape of a woman with long, flowing hair, billowy robes, sunken eyes, and a wide mouth. The thing opened its mouth, emitting the most horrific screech she had ever heard. When Diana screamed, she was sure that she sounded like this thing, and she covered her ears in vain against the sound. She didn't even realize she was sobbing as she shut her eyes.

William had just pulled on his pants when the lights flickered faintly. He was frowning at the offending lightbulb when he heard his wife scream. He thought he heard something break downstairs, but he was more focused on getting to his wife, whos screams were becoming more desperate by the second. He burst into the room and stopped short at what he saw. His wife was kneeling on their bed, curled around her stomach as she covered her ears and screamed, their dog laying on the floor unmoving, and something that looked like a woman in flowing robes with a long tongue slowly descending on his wife. Before he could do anything, he was sent sprawling, his back hitting the wall as a man ran past him. He ran directly to the creature, brandishing what looked like a golden knife, and stabbing it. The knife sliced through the thin fabric like butter, and the thing shrieked. He looked away, now covering his ears as well until the sound stopped. It seemed eerily silent once the shrieking stopped despite the sobs from Diana and heavy breathing from the man who saved them. Diana, he thought and forced himself to stand and stumble to her. She was sobbing uncontrollably and pulling her hair so hard it had to hurt. He carefully approached her, but she didn't acknowledge him.

"Diana?" There was red leaking out of one of her ears, and he knew he had to get her to the hospital soon. He gently grabbed her wrists, trying to pull her hands away from her head, but she fought him. He managed to pull her hands to his chest, and she collapsed against him, sobbing into his nightshirt. He turned his head slightly to look at the man who had saved his wife. Once he made sure that Diana was okay, he was going to get some answers.

...

He soon learned that though his wife wasn't killed by the Banshee that night, it by no means meant that he hadn't lost her. The hunter, Bobby Singer, explained that banshee's screams induce a mental break, and there was little hope of Diana ever being the same again. The doctors said something similar, less insane maybe, but with the same end result. She was hearing things, slipping away day by day as he watched. By the time she had Spencer and was willing to take medicine again, it was too late. Maybe it had always been too late. Regardless of the timing, the more of herself she lost, the less lucid moments she had, all made him determined to hunt anything that could cause this kind of destruction, anything supernatural. He didn't realize that while his wife was losing herself to her illness, he was losing himself to his obsession. When he did realize, he found that he didn't care, because it was always too late, wasn't it?

A/N: Okay, so I thought about how Diana told Spencer that she wasn't on her meds while pregnant, and this plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it out. Banshees only go after the vulnerable, and someone with a history of schizophrenia going off their medicine would qualify. Thank you for reading an please tell me what you thought!