Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions. - Edgar Cayce

"Aaron.." A voice echoed around him, a voice he hadn't heard in so long. "Aaron." The voice spoke again, closer this time, clearer. His heart raced, pure joy running through his body.

"Haley? What are you doing here?" Aaron scratched his head, sitting up in bed. Haley was perched on the edge, smiling serenely. Aaron smiled back, a smile so genuine and broad that he almost looked like a different person. Haley hadn't changed in death - her hair was still brown and she was wearing the clothes she'd been in when she'd been killed, but there was no blood staining them. She watched silently as his eyes appraised her. When he had finished, she reached out and clasped his hand.

"I've come to see you.." She said gently, staring into his eyes as if she was trying to memorise every detail.

"But you're dead." He said, dumbly. Of course she knew that. She smiled, trying not to laugh.

"I know I am, sweetie. I wanted to tell you to listen to her."

"Who?" Hotch asked, trying to move to get closer to her but he found himself glued to the spot.

"Melinda. She's real, Aaron. Just trust her a little, okay?" Aaron's smile left his face abruptly.

"Haley, I can't.. She's crazy. You can't be with me. I'm crazy, this must be a dream.." Haley moved away from him, and he tried to reach out to keep her close to him.

"Maybe it is just a dream.." She was standing now. "Even if it is, I want to tell you something." Haley's hand was outstretched, but she didn't move any closer.

"What?" Hotch was reaching out for her now, desperate to feel her hand in his, just once. Three years had passed since her death, and he still missed her. He'd moved on and tried to heal the best he could. His relationship with Beth may not have lasted too long in the end, but it was proof that he could still feel something close to love. Haley's presence was comforting to him, and he longed to hold her.

"It's ok Aaron. It's okay how you feel. And I know that you've found love, and I am so happy for you."

"Love..Haley, I-" Aaron felt as though he had been shocked, as he hurried to explain what had been going on.

"I know, Aaron. You may be keeping it a secret, but I'm with you enough to know what's going on. You don't have to explain anything to me. I think you should be a little kinder to her though."

Aaron said nothing.

"It's okay..I'll find you again, find a way to show you that I'm here. You're not alone." She began to fade into nothing, and Aaron scrambled out of bed, no longer paralysed by fear, and lunged to where she had sat, falling through nothing.

Aaron..Aaron..Hotch..

Aaron woke suddenly, sitting up with a start. His head collided with something hard in front of him and he moaned in pain.

"Mother fucker.." a male voice groaned. Choosing to ignore the coarse language, Hotch groped for the lamp next to him, finding the switch and flicking it on. Morgan was hunched over on the floor, rubbing his temple. "Note to self, never try to help a guy out with a nightmare again."

"Derek, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Dreams about Haley, good and bad, happened all too often, but this one seemed real. Too real.

"No worries, man. Sounded like a nasty one." They all had nightmares; it was to be expected given what they saw every day. "Haley again, huh?" Hotch had shared rooms with Morgan multiple times, and had nightmares about Haley more times than he cared to count, but he'd never been woken up before. He had no idea Morgan even knew about them.

"Yeah." He was reluctant to disclose details of a dream, believing it not only to be too personal but also thoroughly boring to anyone who had to listen. He sighed. "She was telling me to listen to that woman." Morgan raised an eyebrow. "I should ignore it, right?" Morgan was surprised to see Hotch looking so.. vulnerable, he guessed was the word that best described his superior right now.

"Hotch, it was just a dream. C'mon, we've gotta be up in four hours. Lights out." He crawled back to bed, still rubbing his forehead.

"What do we have on the fathers of the babies so far?" Prentiss asked, clutching a cup of coffee in her hand. It was 8am and they had all reconvened in the police station after a much needed night's sleep.

"Nothing," JJ admitted. "The women hadn't told any immediate family or medical professionals the identity of the fathers." Prentiss nodded, and jotted something down in her notebook. "Their families all assumed it was a one night stand gone wrong, something like that."

"So no record of boyfriends or any casual relationships? The family might not have approved, so the women pretend they weren't the fathers?" Hotch asked.

"We checked," JJ replied. "Generally it seems like the women had several casual relationships that they told friends or family about, but didn't say names. When questioned by family or friends, they refused to say who the father was. At least one of the women was suspected of prostitution by their families, but they could never prove anything and their criminal records all come up clean. Garcia can't find anything on relationships, either. We've hit a wall on that one."

"And no obvious links between the mothers?"

"Other than they lived within a three mile radius of each other, none. They even attended different doctor's offices. There's no indication these women had ever even passed each other in the street." The team fell silence; hitting brick walls like these were always frustrating.

"Well the UnSub's increased his time between kills. Two in less than a week? Something's triggered him. And the dump sites are so exposed, he's never been careful in that aspect. We need to catch this bastard before he gets another woman." Morgan's voice was laced with real anger.

"We have no leads," Rossi said regretfully. "What are we meant to do? Prints – nothing. Cameras – nothing. Witnesses – none. Some lead about a tow truck that lead to nothing." Prentiss looked down guiltily at this point. "We need this guy to slip up."

Reluctant to speak, Reid decided to bite the bullet. "Have we followed all the leads Melinda Gordon gave us?" Hotch raised an eyebrow. "I think we should treat her like we would any other witness." Reid reasoned. "The FBI have involved several mediums-"

"Yes, Reid, I know they have." Hotch said through gritted teeth. "I have decided that we will follow leads given to us by Melinda Gordon. However, we are not to rely on these and the investigation into other leads and information will carry on."

"Yes, Sir." Prentiss said, relieved at last that they could get a move on with investigating the evidence.

Reluctantly, and still recalling his dream, Hotch nodded. "Go ahead. Reid and Morgan you analyse the interviews we've already conducted and follow up anything you think is relevant. Prentiss, I'm going to call her back and we are going to interview her together."

"We?" Emily asked, thinking that it was unlikely that Hotch would want to personally interview the woman that he obviously found so disagreeable.

"Yes, we. Any problem?"

"No sir." She reached for her phone, and rummaged for Melinda's card in her pocket. She dialled and left the room to speak to her.

Rossi raised an eyebrow at Hotch. "What happened to never wanting to talk to 'that woman' again, huh?"

"Sometimes you have to put aside personal opinions and feelings and just get on with things." His voice was flat, annoyed at Rossi's interference. "If I had my way we'd all ignore her." He glared pointedly at Reid, who shrunk in his seat. Hotch stood up. "Keep me informed of any developments." Prentiss stood outside, phone in hand.

"No answer, sir." She went to dial again, but Hotch held his hand up, stopping her.

"You go set the interview room up, I'll try. Hand me your phone." With an odd look, she did what she was told. He pressed the button to dial the number on the screen. After a few rings, Gordon answered. She sounded as if she'd just woken up.

At least someone had had a good night sleep.

Dawn light flooded through the flimsy hotel curtains, and Melinda shifted in bed. She hadn't slept all night. No ghosts haunted her now, but memories of what she had seen in Interview Room 3 and in her vision swam round her mind. She had seen ghosts all her life, but the horrible way these victims had been murdered disturbed her more than anything she had ever seen.

Jim shifted in bed, his eyes flicking open slowly.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" He mumbled, wrapping his arms around her torso. "It's almost morning."

"Can't. Go back to sleep, honey. I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. You're worrying."

"Wouldn't you be, though? All those women and babies, gone. I need to help them."

"You are.."

"There must be something else I can do." Jim yawned, nodding his head at the same time. She couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his face. "Okay, let's both try and get some sleep." She closed her eyes, fighting to ignore the images that flashed before her. Focusing on happier times, she felt herself finally fall into a deep, dreamless, rejuvenating sleep.

Until the phone rang.

"H-Hello?" Melinda prised her eyes open. The room was brighter now, and she guessed it must have been mid-morning by now. Turning over, she noticed the space next to her was empty.

"Ms Gordon?" A male voice spoke to her. She was too tired to try and place it.

"This is she."

"This is SSA Aaron Hotchner. We'd like you to come back to the station." His voice was still completely flat, and she was frankly surprised to hear from him and not Agent Prentiss.

"Oh, sure. When?" Sitting up in bed, she stretched slightly to try and feel more awake. It didn't work.

"As soon as possible."

"Okay, well my husband's gone out somewhere and I need to wait for him to get back. Is an hour ok?"

"Fine." The phone clicked off, and she stared at the blank screen.

"Well, bye then!"

Clicking on to her speed dial, she selected Jim's number.

"Baby, where are you? I need to go back to the station."

Melinda arrived around forty five minutes later. Jim had been out at a store, getting food for breakfast. He'd arrived back to find Melinda showered and dressed, ready and raring to go. He'd forced her to eat a bagel and drink something before she left. Leaving him at the hotel and taking the car meant that she had more freedom to stay as long as she was needed, without worrying about Jim.

She pulled into the station, and wasn't surprised to see Alison standing outside the station. Jumping out of the car and locking it over her shoulder, she almost ran over to the ghost.

"Hey!" Melinda exclaimed, wanting to hug her but knowing it was impossibly.

"Hey yourself," Alison smiled. "I heard them talking about you so I decided to stick around."

"You were here all night?"

"I tried to leave, but I couldn't. Getting used to this whole ghost teleport thing, I guess." Alison tried to smile, but she couldn't. "But Melinda, I think there's another girl here. She was with the feds, and not one of the ones that are always with them. She was in her underwear too." Melinda tried not to look happy, but she couldn't help it. "Jeez, don't look too sad! You think she can help with this?"

"Maybe, if she's who you think she is. I just need a name, and we'll be in business." Melinda told her, looking around to see if she could see her but the rest of the parking lot was empty.

"You'll have to ask her," Alison responded, her arms folded. "Stuck up bitch wouldn't talk to me."

Melinda shook her head whilst trying not to laugh, and walked in to the police station. SSAs Hotchner and Prentiss were waiting by the front desk for her.

"Shall we, Ms Gordon?" Hotch asked, his voice devoid of any emotion. Melinda nodded distractedly, her eyes scanning her environment for a sighting of the new ghost. The two agents lead her through the main hub, towards the doors at the back of the room.

Interview Room 3 was becoming all too familiar.

"Could you confirm your name for the tape?" Hotch asked.

"Melinda Gordon."

"Interviewing are SSA Aaron Hotchner," Hotch spoke clearly, motioning to Prentiss to do the same.

"And SSA Emily Prentiss."

"Ms Gordon, as previous testimonies show, you believe you can communicate with the spirits of dead people, correct?" Hotch asked. It wasn't usual to record interviews once it had been established that the person was not a suspect, but he insisted on it even now just so he could listen back and prove that he wasn't losing his mind.

"Yes, I do." Melinda replied, trying to ignore the sting that the word "believe" had caused.

"And you believe that the spirit of Alison Parker has come to you and shown you evidence pertaining to her murder, correct?" Hotch was watching her carefully as he spoke, and she nodded.

"Yes." She spoke for the benefit of the tape. "Yes, I do believe that she has."

"And you're confident this evidence hasn't come from other sources that you may not be telling us about? At this point, I would like to remind you that the spoliation of evidence is a criminal offense." Hotch's voice was hard, and Melinda couldn't help but be a little scared by him.

"Yes, I'm sure that I'm not concealing anything." Her voice was shaking a little – she felt as if she was under attack. Reminding herself that she had to put her personal feelings aside in order to help the spirits of these poor women, she sat a little straighter in her chair, trying to project an air of confidence.

"We'd like to do a cognitive interview with Alison." Hotch stated calmly. Prentiss turned to look at him, trying to conceal the fact he'd caught her completely off guard. They hadn't discussed this at all, and the fact that all of a sudden he was willing to buy into the whole ghost thing seemed very unlike Hotch. He didn't do u-turns.

"A – a what?" Melinda asked, unsure what such an interview would entail.

"We'd like her to recall where she was. She can hear us, correct?"

"Er, yeah, she can. But what happened to non-evidence?"

"Yeah, what happened?" Emily mumbled under her breath. Hotch shot her a look that told her she'd heard him. She'd get in trouble for that later.

"Think of it as another test of your abilities. Now, is Alison here?"

"Yes, she is, and she'll try as hard as she can to help you."

"Great. Ok, Alison," Prentiss began, deciding to take the lead on this one. "I want you to remember the weather on that day. Can you do that?"

"She says it was warm, with a light breeze."

"And what was she wearing on that day?"

"Maternity jeans, a purple stretchy camisole, and a large cardigan. If you don't mind, there'll be a small pause between my answers – I've gotta listen carefully." The agents nodded.

"What time did she leave the house?" Hotch asked. The agents waited while Melinda carefully listened to her invisible companion.

"Around one thirty pm – she had to drop a stereo off to be repaired before her doctor's appointment."

"Where did she drop it off?" Another pause while Melinda listened.

"LP Electrics. She'd never been there before, but someone recommended it to her."

"When did she arrive at the doctor's?"

"She arrived at 2:20. Her bladder was full for the scan, but they were running real late. She was very uncomfortable. They saw her at around 3pm, and she had a normal check up and a scan. The baby was strong, but her blood pressure was a little high. They told her to stay off her feet."

"And after she left?"

"She got in the car, and after about ten minutes, there was trouble. It was an old car, and it was always breaking down. So she called a tow truck." She paused. "This is where it goes blank. What should I do?"

"We'll continue asking questions in the hope it will jog her memory." Hotch replied. So, this is the end of my career, he thought, a one way ticket to the nut house.

"She's trying, she really is. She called the tow truck, and they arrived a little while after. They.." Melinda nodded. "It's ok, Alison, take your time. They fixed whatever was wrong with the engine, told her to get to a mechanic as soon as she could. She drove away."

"We know she didn't make it home. Can she remember what happened after?"

"She was driving, and she saw..she saw a body on the side of the road."

"A body?" Prentiss asked in disbelief. "There were no other reported bodies found around the time of her murder."

"She got out of the car, ran – waddled – over to the body. She leant down to check if they were breathing – and he sat up and hit her round the head. Oh god, she remembers now. That's how she got taken."

"We still haven't found her car. Were there any other cars at the scene?" Hotch asked, furrowing his brow.

"She says no, the road was empty. She thought he'd been hit."

"The UnSub must have transported her in her own car, he must still have it!" Prentiss told Hotch, who narrowed his eyes, reminding her silently that Melinda Gordon was not to be told information like that.

"I'll go tell the others." Prentiss said excitedly. She left the room hurriedly. Hotch knew at least one other member of the team would be watching, so she was probably just behind the mirror.

"Does Alison remember anything else?" Hotch asked, wanting the interview to be over with as quickly as possible. Melinda nodded.

"She remembers his face, Agent Hotchner. He had a large wound on his cheek, which looked to her quite recent. It was scabbing over, but not healed."

"Thank you, we'll look into that. I'll also look into getting a sketch artist down here. Is there anything else?"

"No. Alison's very drained and upset; I think it would be best if we stopped." Melinda paused, and looked around her. "She's gone; I'll call you to let you know when she's back."

"Very well." He spoke the time of termination into the recorder. "Thanks." He got up to leave.

"Agent Hotchner?" Melinda stopped him. He reluctantly turned around.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for taking a chance on me."

"You've got Prentiss to thank for that, not me." He nodded, and turned to head out the door. Suddenly, Melinda lurched forwards, clutching her head.

"Agent Hotchner?" Her voice was weak, like a sick child.

"Yes?" He asked, just wanting to get out of there.

"There's another girl here. She looks just like Alison, in her underwear and covered in blood."

"Why didn't you mention this sooner?"

"I hadn't seen her, Alison couldn't get her name. I thought it might be something else. But she's just appeared."

"I'll get Reid and Prentiss in here to conduct another cognitive interview."

"I don't think that'll work quite yet. She's very angry. She's yelling at me, and moving around the room very violently. I can't.." The energy was making her head spin, and her stomach didn't feel too good either. "Oh god, could you pass me that garbage can?" Hotch passed her it as quickly as he could, but winced as he heard vomit land on his expensive Italian leather shoes.

He really didn't like Melinda Gordon.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review!