I own nothing

A young six year old with auburn sat huddled into her ten year old brother with brown hair. They were both sickly skinny cover with dirt and blood, had dark circle under their eyes, her blue and his hazel brown, from lack of sleep. They were locked in cell. Not far from the children cell there was a cell with was woman in her late twenties had tears in her eyes, as she edge closer to two children. The young girl looked at the woman with tear falling from her eyes.

"Irene it will be right"

"Are you sure Simon?" Irene asked in little voice.

The sound boots approaching the cell reach their ears. A man stood about six foot three walked into the room his dark brown eyes landed on them before coming to get the woman out of the cage. She screamed and started to fight him. After he got the woman, who Irene and Simon learned was named Angelina up the stairs. He came back down the stairs. He opened the door to the cage.

"Come" His gravelly voice said.

Irene awoke from her nightmare with scream. Tears where falling from her blue eyes; running her pale shaking hands up her face. Shakespeare, her Russian Blue with his light green eyes, moved over to his mistress and rub on her feet. He was followed by his, Egyptian Mau with smoke coloring companion, Sherlock; who hop up and rubbed on her face. The light flick on in bedroom, a now thirty year old Simon; his hazel brown eyes landed on his sister.

"Irene, are you alright?"

"Will they ever stop Simon?"

Simon walked over to her bed sitting down on bedspread. He placed his hand on her still shaking hand. He looked around the bed room to the picture of her graduating from high school four years before him at the age of twelve. Then picture of at Yale graduation day at the age of sixteen. There were other pictures of her getting her PHDs at age of nineteen and twenty one and twenty three, along other photos with him and his ex-wife, Eva. His dark brown hair was messy from sleep, looked back to Irene her auburn waves a mess from sleep. He gave her a little smile trying to think of something that would make her smile and not think about what had happened.

"In all your twenty six year has your brain ever stopped, sis?" Simon joked

"No" Irene said with sadly.

"Then I don't think they will ever completely stop. It is getting better your last nightmare was what a year ago."

"Eleven months, forty-nine weeks, three hundred and forty-three days, eight thousand two hundred and thirty-two hours …"

"Stop! Just stop it too early to do math. Irene it is three in the morning and I have to be at work at five a.m."

Irene started rub in-between Sherlock's ears. Shakespeare crawl his way up to her other hand and started to nudge it to get her attention. Simon looked at Irene in her blue eyes and nodded his head with sigh.

"You aren't going back to sleep are you?"

"Nope"

"So sister dearest what on agenda for today?"
"Well, I will probably write until four make breakfast for us. I will head down to my office with my babies in toe then I am going to visit Angelina grave then I have progress report with publisher. At four, I have to pick up Allie-bug from dance."

"It still hard for me to believe you remember all of their names. How many pages is this book? It's the last one right."

"Eidetic memory, Simon it's hard for me not to. Three hundred and fifty-eight and yes, he will have no control over me hopefully."

Simon ran his hand over her jawline. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, shaking his head. He got up and walked to the door. He paused and turned back to look at her. The image of her after they were first saved flashed in his mind. The way she clang to the FBI agent that saved them he thought he was call Gideon. Simon shook his head it still affected him too but not like Irene.

An hour before Spencer had to be at BAU. He stood next to Maeve grave stone. It had been six months since her death. He still could not really sleep without picturing her. A black town car pulled up. A young woman got out of the car. Spencer's brown eyes met her crystal clear ice blue eyes. She had auburn hair that curled around her waist. She was dressed in dark green wrap dress. She stood maybe five foot nine with four inch heels make her stand without heels about five foot five inches tall. She tilted her head looking at him as if she was weighing him. Something about this woman caught his attention. She was odd mixture of things.

Irene walked a few grave stone down from the man with warm brown eyes. She let out a deep breath. It read:

Angelina Daugue

Born May 16 1970 Died June 23 2000.

Loving daughter and wife

May life no matter how short ever be forgotten.

She laid her hand on the stone. She took a deep shaking breath trying to fight of the memories that she could feel coming on.

The image of, Angelina being set on fire by the madman that still hunted her. He walked back over to Irene and Simon still frozen in shock. The echoes of her screams and fire nearly consumed her. It was like witch burning. Simon vomited. Irene had tears pouring from her eyes and tried to get to Angelina. The man pulled her back to him with his hands on Irene small shoulders.

"Lenore yes my dear watch as the witch burns"

"No" Irene Screamed.

Spencer talked to Maeve. Suddenly the sound of a scream woke him from his thoughts and words. He looked around the cemetery. There was no one but him the woman in there. That was when he noticed that the woman was panting and shaking from head to toe. She sat down next to grave stone sobbing.

"I'm so sorry... so sorry"

Something was off about this woman. Spencer walked closer to just to make sure she was all right.

"Are you alright?"

Irene got to her feet shook out her shoulder tried to remove the tears from her face. Before, she turned to look at him with small smile on her face.

"I'm fine" Irene said tightly.

It was a lie. Spencer looked at her with knowing look. They both knew it. Irene eyed him biting her full bottom lip; he still had the look that her brother gave her many times.

"It is nothing you can help me with…" Irene said softly.

"Spencer"

Irene nodded her head before head back to her car. She turned back to look at him one last time. He did not know why he did not introduce himself as Dr. Reid or Reid.

"Thanks" Irene said softly.

There was something about her that he wanted to know her at lease her name. He had not felt this way since Maeve. She was walking away. He could hear Morgan tell him he need to move on in his mind.

"Don't I get to know your name?" Reid asked shocking himself.

Irene turned back, gave him a little smile. The butterflies started to flutter in her stomach a feeling that she very rarely felt.

"Irene"

"Irene is Greek for peace. Also Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had character by name of Irene."

"To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. (1)" Irene quoted with a smile and little giggle.

Irene turned to walk back to the car. She looked back Spencer who was standing near Maeve grave again. She paused for a moment. She tilted her head biting her lip. He honestly tried to help her. He seemed so lost in his grieve. Her blue eyes locked with his brown eyes again.

"It gets better" Irene said

Spencer looked at her as she got into car. There was something about her that caught and held his attention. It was easy to see that she had suffer a major trauma and that it left it marks on her just not physical ones. It made him wonder what had happened to her. Reid's phone went off, shaking his head looking at his phone it Morgan.