The "sparrow" is still flying around my head, I just need to find more time for it to grow and develop into a full chapter.

Chapter Two:

There are many different ways to get to know a neighbor. Invite them over for tea or coffee. Make small talk while picking up the mail. Say hi while leaving or arriving and share a bit about what was going during their day. Or break in to figure out what the neighbor is doing that could attract such powerful demons. Simms chose the last approach.

Her aunt taught her how to pick locks. It came in handy occasionally when possessed hosts would lock themselves in rooms and hide the keys. It was also handy when her ex changed the locks before she could retrieve all her stuff. Still, Simms wasn't proud of using this trick to get to know Spencer, but it was the most direct option she could think of.

It didn't take her long to figure out what he did for a living. Among piles of books, there were business cards on his desk that spelled out his title as a special supervisory agent at the FBI. His last name was Reid. The number of books he had on profiling suggested that he was one.

Simms had done exorcisms on law enforcement personnel before. One was a DEA agent, and another was a detective. Both were what one might describe as being "sensitive souls." While effective at their jobs, they took things more personally. She managed to free both of them from their demons without much effort as it appeared the evil entities had just settled in.

This was different though, she felt it in the air. Sometimes, if Simms closed her eyes, she could almost see remnants of past events. The books were neatly stacked and shelved, but they hadn't always been like that. There was also internal struggle here. Raging emotions of a sad, broken, heart. Then fear, it didn't belong to him exactly, but someone close to him, most likely a relative. Finally, a light tingle of death, someone didn't die here, but spent much of the last moments of his or her (most likely her) life here. For a witch, a heavy aroma of sadness and fear filled the senses.

It was time for the "icky" part. She went into his bedroom and found a hair on his pillow. Then she placed it in a small crystal vial with other ingredients and said out loud:

"With this fragment of identity, I place him under my protection. If harm of the supernatural kind threatens his life, guide me to his location."

She then pulled out a needle and pricked her finger. A drop of blood landed on the hair.

"Bind my life to his until the Darkness passes."

The ritual was complete. Simms would have liked to have stayed to burn some sage, move objects around, and possibly wash the bedsheets in a potion, but there wasn't time and Spencer would have obviously noticed. Planning a way to cast the demons out was going to take time. Make sure she was "on call" for him was a start.

Reid left his apartment just as Ruby left hers. She smiled at him.

"Hey," she said brightly.

"Hi," he said back.

They went down stairs. He stifled a yawn.

"That last nor'easter was loud," she said lightly.

"The pressure system produced a strong force," Reid said lamely as he tried to keep his eyes open.

"Poor men," Ruby said. "Generally, I envy you in this patriarchy-dominated society, but I get to use concealer to hide signs of disrupted sleep and men generally don't."

He stopped and stared at her briefly.

She cringed.

"Sorry, I know I am a strange person."

"No, I," he said slowly as he fought back another yawn. "I think despite how I sound, I think you're interesting."

"Thanks," she said as her cheeks turned pink.

They reached the end of the stairs.

"Have a good day," she said and paused. "I just got divorced."

Reid felt like he needed another cup of coffee for the revelation to register.

"What?"

"I like you, but I'm not ready to start anything," she said. "It's just too painful."

"Okay," he said slowly.

"Great," she said quickly. "Glad to clear the air. I really hope you have a great day!"

Ruby sped off in the opposite direct. He felt mildly blindsided. He also felt he needed another cup of coffee before he got on the subway.

Prentiss noticed something was off about Reid instantly. His responses were slower, and he looked like he hadn't slept well. They were sent to Chicago to work on a case involving victims being killed in a way that initially suggested it was suicide by hanging. J.J. was apprehensive about the case for personal reasons. She was anxious to get the case over with and focus on her team.

Keeping Reid busy with a geographic profile at the station, Prentiss interviewed relatives of victims with Simmons while Rossi and J.J. worked the field as Lewis and Alvez met with the coroner.

They had been working the case for only a couple hours when Lewis and Alvez came into the precinct with the coroner in handcuffs. Alvez put him in a holding cell as Lewis approached her.

"Doctor Christopher Irving acted odd while we spoke with him," she said. "Luke and I tried to leave quietly but found him following us. We profiled him as having a medical degree and devolving based on the sloppiness of his most recent kill. Irving was anxious to confess after we convinced him to remove the scalpel from his throat."

"Good work Tara," she said and nodded to Alvez as he approached them. "Nice job."

"Let's pack up and go home then," he said.

Prentiss turned to the conference room. She nearly yelled when she saw Reid was on the ground.

He was murmuring what sounded like bits of Latin with his eyes partially closed. Upon closer inspection, she saw blood. Blood coming from his forehead. Reid was sweating blood.