A month after their escape found the three no longer in New York. They had stayed long enough to get their bearings in the new world, learning about stuff like taxes and social security numbers and credit cards. Also manners. They learned a lot about manners.

Spencer stole a credit card from an angry woman. He felt bad, but he knew that she had money to spare, judging by her clothes and hair. He and his friends needed the money more. They, too, had named themselves. 15003 was now David Thomson and 77562 was Jenny Clarke. They had made their way to California, stopping on the way to get some forged identities. When they got there, Spencer got to work straightaway.

He found them a temporary place to stay, squatting in an old warehouse, and got a job at a pizza place. The identity he had gotten made him 16 again, years younger than he really was. He was tall, yes, but he was still very childlike and nobody would be convinced if he had told them he was 19. Jenny was '18', and David was '16'.

David invested in gloves and some hair dye, picking out a goth style, heavily laden with chains and tattoos. He figured that it was the best way to make it so that his eyes didn't stand out- people would assume that they were contacts.

Jenny got a job at a local gym as a weights teacher, using her Institute-given gifts to earn some money. David was working part-time at a pizza joint that didn't give a crap about the way he looked, and Spencer got a job at the local university as a custodian.

He made friends with the Dean of said university. Said Dean gave Spencer a full-ride scholarship as soon as he realized that he had employed a genius as a custodian. Spencer studied Psychology while continuing to work as a custodian. He needed the money to take care of his friends, who were quickly becoming more like a family. About a year after they had arrived in California, they had saved up enough to rent a little apartment. While it was small and moldy, it was better than squatting.

A few years later, Jenny was now running the gym, David had moved on from pizzaman to an employee at an animal shelter (admittedly, it didn't pay well, but David felt that someone who knew what it was like to be caged should be taking care of the animals, and Jenny and Spencer agreed.) and Spencer had earned three PHds. He still worked as a custodian, but he gave lectures more often than not and was very well-respected at the tender age of '19'. In reality, he was 22, but it wasn't like he was going to say that. He figured that the steroids he had been given when he was younger had slowed his growing, because he honestly appeared to be younger than 19.

But that was besides the point.

Spencer knew that he would have to get a better-paying job, and soon. He didn't want to take David from his shelter or Jenny from her gym, but he knew that being a custodian wasn't going to cut it. He began job-hunting in earnest.

But this time, he didn't want 'just' a job- he wanted a career. He wanted something that he could continue doing for the rest of his life, and be happy about it.

One fateful day, he attended a lecture by Jason Gideon, and his whole life changed. He knew that this was the break he had been waiting for- he wanted to be a profiler when he grew up, to use the cliche phrase.

After talking to Gideon and smoothing out a few details, he was on his way to the FBI Academy. He had talked to David and Jenny as well, and they were fine with him going, as long as he called every night and was careful. The identities they had gotten were very well-done (by this criminal whose name was probably not actually Neal Caffrey) but there was always the chance that they would be caught. And, of course, there was also the chance that the Institute would somehow find out about them.

Spencer didn't think the chances of that were very high. He knew that he, Jenny, and David hadn't been that 'important' in the eyes of the whitecoats, but he also knew that he had been scheduled for execution and so he wasn't exactly eager to go back to that horrible, dark place. He also knew that he had a new skill, something like a perception filter. It was a little bit like the Invisibility Cloak in Harry Potter, but not exactly. Simply put, he could hide things.

He could confuse people, too. It wasn't like he could control their minds- he could just obscure certain details, make them seem less important. Jenny called it his mind camouflage. He could also sense emotions. Nothing huge- he couldn't read minds. If he concentrated just a little, he could sort of sense what another person was feeling. It was all very useful when you were trying to escape notice.

He promised to be careful and he was off, back to school, again.

To say nothing else, he was proud of himself. He had graduated from the Academy and was on his way to his first day as a criminal profiler. He remembered the times when he was only a number and smiled at how far he had come. He was '22', or 25.

He had moved to Virginia. It was a hard decision for Jenny and David, seeing as they had each built a life in California, but they had chosen to follow him there. They were family, and family stuck together. David's goth look had tamed over the years, but his wardrobe still consisted of mostly black and his hair was still dyed black, as opposed to its original sandy-brown. Jenny's muscles had evened out with the regular exercise and now seemed less… unnatural. She had grown taller, which might have helped. Her hair was a dark, dark brown and her skin was still unnaturally pale, but her green eyes never ceased to twinkle in amusement.

As soon as the move had been complete, David had started hunting for a shelter to work at. Jenny picked up another local gym, but told them both that it just wasn't the same. She started looking into becoming a member of the police, noticing how the work, while difficult, was very fulfilling to Spencer.

Years passed. Jenny became a cop. David continued his work at the shelter, becoming well-known in the area as a supporter of animal rights. Spencer grew closer to the team, but never did he introduce them to his first family. They got a bigger apartment with the money they each earned, and all was good. The team grew closer to Spencer, and they became a second family.

The years they had spent, tortured, at the Institute, faded to the background, only coming out in the middle of the night, when everything was hazy and everyone was susceptible to nightmares.

Spencer was brought back to the present when the person sitting next to him on the subway farted.

Ick.

It wasn't that bad, by normal-person standards, but when you're genetically engineered to be smarter than the average bear, and, as an extension, have an extremely sensitive nose (and ears, and eyes. But that's besides the point.) you smell things that you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy.

This was a similar case.

Judging from the frankly coma-inducing aroma, the rotund man next to him had recently chowed down on a burrito. More evidence to suggest this was the sauce that had stained his off-white old t-shirt. Said t-shirt also smelled.

Spencer simply couldn't wait to get out of the subway.

He looked away from the man, who was ignoring everything and playing Candy Crush on his phone, and searched for something more appealing to look at.

All he saw was a subway car full of people. Sure, there were some very nice-looking women, but he was too socially awkward to pull off a proper conversation. And you couldn't blame him, could you? He grew up in a dog crate- it wasn't as if social interaction was going to be something he was good at.

The point was, there was nothing to look at. But he needed something to do, before he asphyxiated. So he pulled out his sketchbook and a pencil and began drawing the scene in front of him.

The only person who knew about his love of drawing was David. Frankly, Spencer was embarrassed by it. He was sure that he wasn't very good, and nothing David had said would convince him otherwise.

The act of putting the world around him relaxed Spencer, and soon enough he was off in his own little world, not even noticing when the smelly man left, to be replaced by a very pretty woman. The lady was blonde-haired and her eyes were a most interesting grey-blue colour. She wore a dark-brown leather jacket and a nice white blouse paired with long jeans and boots. She wore glasses and the very tips of her hair were dyed violet.

At first, she too was occupied by her phone. But after a few minutes, Candy Crush got boring and she stowed the electronic in her pocket. She became very interested in the drawing Spencer was doing.

Spencer was still engrossed in his sketchbook, the rhythmic movements of the pencil lulling him into a meditative daze. The drawing was one of his best yet. Of course, in his mind, it was still a failure, but he felt a tiny sense of satisfaction at the fact that he was improving. Soon enough, he was adding the last detail.

Aaannnddd… he was done! He quickly stowed his pencils in his bag and looked around, noting all that had changed since he had first looked up. He drew from memory, and so did not need to continually look around to get all of the shapes right.

He saw the pretty lady out of the corner of his eye and blushed when she realized that she was staring in shock at what he had drawn.

Thinking that, somehow, he had managed to offend her, he began stuttering out apologies.

"S-sorry! I know it's bad, but I was bored, a-and I needed something to do and I didn't bring a book a-and…" he trailed off as the lady shook her head, frowning in confusion.

She snatched the sketchbook out of his limp hands from where he had been attempting to shove it back into his satchel and opened it back up to the page, looking repeatedly from the picture back up to the scene around her, all the while speaking.

"Why are you apologizing? This is amazing! The detail is just, just astounding! This is one of the best sketches I've seen in my life, and, trust me, I've seen quite a few. Are you an artist?" The lady shot out, rapid-fire.

Spencer blinked at her, confused. He opened his mouth to respond, figuring it would be rude not to.

"Um, no, I'm not an artist. I just recently took up drawing as a sort of hobby. I was bored. Um, I work with the FBI." then, remembering that it was also considered polite to exchange names with people you are talking to, he introduced himself. "Dr. Spencer Reid, with the Behavioural Analysis Unit." he added a weak grin at the end, hoping that the woman would hand his sketchbook back and let him continue his ride in relative peace. He hated talking to people he didn't know- it was like navigating a land mine-strewn battlefield. He never knew what to say.

"Really? An FBI agent? That, my friend, is awesome. I'm Rebecca, Rebecca Anderson. I work with the art museum, I'm the one who sets up all the temporary, local artist displays. I get, like, a gajillion calls each day from amateurs who think they're hotshots when they can't even draw a nose straight. Trust me, I know art when I see it. This, man, is really good. May I?" Befuddled by the unexpected praise, he simply nodded, allowing her to flip through the rest of his ratty sketchbook.

The thing had been cheap, which was what he needed when he had bought it. He didn't have any delusions of grandeur, he just wanted a place dedicated to his scribbling, instead of the random sheaves of copy paper that he usually doodled on. So, one day, a few months ago, he had stopped by an art store and bought the cheapest sketchbook they had available. He was embarrassed by the woman, Rebecca, flipping through the drawings that he had been too ashamed (No, ashamed wasn't the right word, exactly. He just hadn't wanted to open himself up to Morgan's playful teasing.) to share with anyone. He had filled about three fourths of the sketchbook already, so Rebecca was pretty busy flipping through it all. It gave Spencer time to compose himself, get his jaw off the floor.

He had never encountered anyone like Rebecca before. She was very loud, but in a gentle sort of way. He didn't know anything about her, and, to be honest, he was a little bit intimidated by her overpowering personality, but he thought that he could probably like her. Not to mention, she was very pretty. Another blush formed across his face at the thought, but he forced it down before she noticed.

No need to make this any more embarrassing than it already is, he thought to himself. Rebecca was muttering to herself as she looked over his work, analyzing it with an artist's eye. He decided he couldn't watch her and gazed awkwardly off to the side, very aware of her every move.

A few excruciating minutes later, she was done.

As she handed back the book respectfully, she asked doubtfully, "So you're saying that you just took up drawing recently?"

"Um, yeah. A few months ago. Like I said, I was bored. I'm really not that great, sorry." He averted his eyes and jammed the book in his satchel, none-too-gently. He didn't know what he was apologizing for, exactly, but he figured it was better safe than sorry.

"Not very good?! Mr. Spencer, like I said, I've seen a lot of art in my day and I have to say that was some of the best, especially for someone who only just started. I have a good feeling about you- you could go far in the art field, Mr."

"Um, it's Doctor."

"Sorry?" Rebecca asked, uncomprehending.

"It's Dr. Spencer, technically." here he managed a wry grin, continuing,"I kind of worked hard on those doctorates, it's always nice to get some recognition for it."

"Well, then, Dr. Spencer, I've got a feeling about you. Here's my card, please, call me. I'd like to set you up with something. Maybe over coffee? Anyways, call me. This is my stop, so I'd better be going." Rebecca didn't seem at all phased by his insistence on using his proper title- he knew from experience that some people found it rude, but he had worked hard on them, like he said.

With a brilliant smile and a wink, she handed him a colourful business card with her name, phone number, and email, along with her work address on it and she was gone.

God, she's fast, he thought as she pushed her way through the slog of humanity.

He was left, dazed, in his seat, clutching the card in his hand.

Then he realized that it was his stop, too, and rushed off the train in much the same manner.

By the time he arrived to work, he had stuffed the card in between pages in his sketchbook and tried to push the odd encounter from his mind as he sat down at his desk, omnipresent coffee in hand.

He got to work on some paperwork that had been left for 'later' a long while ago. Normally, he was good with getting everything filed properly and in a timely fashion, but he had been a bit distracted lately. David had begun dating a girl, her name was Abby Sciuto. She was nice enough, if a little on the weird side, but then, Spencer wasn't exactly one to talk. She was a scientist, wore a white coat and everything, which had immediately made Spencer a little bit distrustful, but she didn't seem to be evil or anything. David seemed to really like her, and they shared a fashion sense, at the very least.

Apparently, they had met at the shelter. Abby had been a volunteer for ages, but they seemed to always miss each other. When they were finally properly introduced, the first thing she did was compliment him on his eyes. In her words, they were 'very cool'. It had become a running joke in their relationship- Abby was always bugging David to tell her where he had gotten the contacts that made his eyes look reptilian.

David had been surprised- most often the reaction was more along the lines of 'freakish', but it was a pleasant surprise. They had gotten to talking, and had hit it off immediately.

But that was besides the point, he thought as he shook his head to get rid of the uncooperative thoughts.

He valiantly attempted to focus on the paperwork in front of him, but his mind kept drifting. First it thought about Abby, and then how Jenny was doing. She had caught the flu and was stuck at home. David was taking the week off to take care of her, but Spencer couldn't do that to his team, especially because it would be suspicious, as he never took vacation time.

But the most common distraction that filled his head was the lady from the train with the blonde hair and the violet tips. She had been breathtakingly beautiful, now that he thought about it. He wanted to call her, but he needed an outside opinion. The emotions he had picked up from her certainly fit with what she had been saying, but he had always been one for absolute certainty.

He couldn't ask Morgan, that was just asking for teasing. While he knew the friendly agent meant nothing by it, he preferred to just avert the situation before it could occur. Prentiss was an option, but he didn't know her as well as he thought he ought to for this sort of question. Hotch and Rossi were out, because, well, they were Hotch and Rossi. They probably didn't want to be bothered by his lack of social skills.

That left Garcia and JJ.

Normally he talked these things over with Jenny, but she was sick and he didn't want to interfere with her convalescence. Garcia was the best, but Reid was going to go with JJ on this one. He needed someone… calmer.

Mind made up, Spencer got up and strode over to JJ's office, satchel over his shoulder and coffee, again, in hand.

The door was closed, so he knocked gently before entering at the sound of JJ's 'come in!'.

"Hey, Spence. What are you doing here?"

"Um, JJ, I need a little bit of advice, if you're not too busy."

"Nope, I've just finished up with the last thing. What do you need?" the perky blonde asked, smiling at her favourite genius.

"Well, I met this girl…" Before Spencer could explain that he barely knew her, JJ had let out an excited, Garcia-esque squeal.

"Spence! That's great! What's she like, what's her name, can I meet her?"

"Um, no, JJ, it's not like that. I literally just met her, she sat next to me on the subway on the way to work. I just have to ask you about something she said."

JJ looked a bit put-out that her friend hadn't finally found someone, but dropped the matter in favour of asking, "Sure, what is it?"

"Um, well, it's kind of silly and I would prefer Morgan not hear about it, please?" Spencer's chocolate doe eyes begged JJ.

"Of course, my lips are sealed. Now what is it you need?"

"I guess what I really need is your honest opinion on this thing I did. The person I met on the train said that it was really good, but I don't think so, and so I need to know if it's actually good or if her complimenting it was just her way of, um, I don't know, flirting, or maybe she's just really nice, but I don't think so because she looked kind of bossy and she didn't have a lot of manners. Not that I can talk, but, well, yeah."

JJ raised an eyebrow at this, noting that her genius was fairly flustered over this thing, whatever it was.

"Spence, calm down, I promise I'll be honest with… whatever it is."

Spencer took a breath and nodded, reaching into his satchel and pulling out the sketchbook. JJ was confused because she was sure that Spence didn't draw, but kept her mouth shut and waited as Spencer flipped through the well-worn pages and landed on the freshly drawn subway scene that had been the cause of the whole debacle.

He handed it to JJ, who looked over it. As she examined the art, her eyes widened in what can only be described as shock.

"Spencer! Did you draw this?" she gasped after a pause.

"Um, yeah." he nodded.

"I didn't know you could draw! This is really good! How long have you been doing this?" she asked, still looking in awe at the scene in front of her. The strokes, while hurriedly placed and kind of rough, were even and precise in their placement. It seemed that Spencer had been hiding his prodigious skill.

"Um, a few months, ish. I picked it up one day because I was bored."

JJ simply stared.

Spencer, uneasy at the prolonged eye contact, looked down towards his boots, a blush starting to spread across his cheeks.

He hated being stared at- perhaps it had something to do with the first 19 years of his life being spent under surveillance. That could, you know, put a damper on the whole 'being stared at' thing.

But in any case, he looked in the direction of his feet, and, in doing so, spotted a handy file. Seeing that it was perfect for a distraction, he grabbed it and flipped it open, immediately and automatically scanning it for information. Being a genius, his brain sometimes ran two trains of thought at once, so, on one hand, he was slightly freaked by JJ's staring, and, on the other, he was paying full attention to the file in front of him.

"Well, you're really awesome. Do you mind if I look through the rest, or is it private?"

Figuring that it had already been looked through once that day, he nodded once and focused again on the file.

The case it described was frighteningly familiar. Kids from one state (Indiana) were being kidnapped. The only connection was that all of the children had been young and healthy- there was no discrimination between race, gender, class, or anything that could have helped form a profile. The only reason that the cases had been marked as 'connected' was that they were all stolen as newborns from hospitals.

There were no witnesses.

The gist of the case was the same as the thing that had happened to Spencer, when he had been a kid. Or, at least, that's what they had assumed. It made the most sense for something like that to have happened, what with the number of unsolved child abductions and such.

Spencer had no idea where he had come from, or who he had left behind. Perhaps he had a mother and a father out there, parents who held out hope for his return, despite there being no logical reason to have done so. This was, obviously, the most desirable situation, but Spencer knew that it was much more likely that his parents, whoever they were, to have signed over their child to the School, or put him up for adoption, or something of the like.

Ultimately, he had decided a long time ago that Jenny and David were the only family he needed.

"Who's this?" JJ asked, having turned the page to see an incredibly detailed portrait of David, sitting on their couch next to Abby, watching a movie or perhaps a TV show.

"That's David and his girlfriend, Abby. He lives with me and is a close friend."

JJ looked again at the couple, noticing their multiple piercings and tattoos.

"Not to be rude, but they don't seem like people I would expect you to hang around with."

"They are both some of the nicest people I have ever met- David works at the animal shelter and Abby does volunteer work there- that's how they met." Spencer said, fondness for his friend and brother infusing his voice.

JJ nodded and continued flipping pages.

Spencer placed the file where he had found it and picked up another, just to keep his mind entertained while he waited for JJ to be done.

This time, the file was even more familiar to him.

It wasn't anything that probably needed the attention of the BAU, Spencer didn't even know why it was in the pile on JJ's desk, but as soon as he opened the file he knew that his team had to take the case.

He still needed to thank her.

A mugshot of a blonde girl with a strong stance and piercing, familiar eyes stared up at him from the paper.

They were familiar because he had seen them before.

They were the eyes of his literal guardian angel, Max Ride.

WHOOO.

4304 words this time, that's about double the last chapter. The thing with Rebecca was completely random, and I really hope she's not a Mary Sue. Please, tell me if she comes off that way? The whole 'art' thing came about because I've recently become very interested in the subject and, you know, 'write what you know' and all that.

There are cameos from other characters from shows that I watch in here, see if you can recognize them?

REVIEW!

~Pseu

P.S. song of the update is The Bird and The Worm by Owl City, because it's the one playing. I'd also like to recommend Ain't No Grave by Johnny Cash, because it just came on.

You could say I've got a diverse taste in music.

Soooo review!