At three in the morning, Spencer sat bolt upright in bed. He fumbled for his glasses on the bedside table, put them on and flipped on a light.

Padding over to the sofa where he'd left his messenger bag, he rifled through the files until he found the one he was looking for. Reid flipped back and forth between a few of the pages, referred to another file and then went back to the first one. He gasped and hunted for his cellphone.

"Reid! It's three o'clock in the morning!" Hotchner was only semi-serious. He knew Reid wouldn't be calling him at this hour without good reason. Shaking off the sleep, he listening intently as his youngest team member imparted his theory.

"It's Askari, Hotch. Or more accurately, someone wanting revenge for Askari's death. It fits. The gunman I saw was dark haired and Middle Eastern. Askari tortured JJ. He blamed her. He told her he was going to take her child. The gunman was trying to kill Michael and Henry. And that gunman was killed because he screwed up, Hotch. He didn't kill the boys, maybe they thought they killed me."

"It's a sound theory, Reid. You could be right. We'll have Garcia run down all of Askari's known associates and contacts and see if we can get a match."

"He had contacts here in the U.S. as well as in Afghanistan and Iraq, according to JJ's notes from the case, Hotch."

"The gunman was stupid, Reid. So is whoever killed him and his driver. DCPD recovered shell casings at the scene where those two were killed. And they found a weapon and a cellphone in that Expedition. Thanks for calling, Reid. Now, please go get some sleep before your nurse calls me to give me hell."

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Garcia swallowed the last of her morning coffee and called Hotch.

"Farok Tor. He was the gunman. He was a colleague, if you want to call him that, of Askari's in Afghanistan. After Askari was killed, Farok Tor and several others in their little circle of torture left Afghanistan for America to avenge him. One of those colleagues was the driver of the Expedition. Sayid Sabana. Also originally from Iraq, like Askari. Also known for numerous attacks on Americans serving overseas in that area. He was talented—if you want to use that word—in the art of making bombs. Also fluent in several languages. And also, and this is just too weird, Hotch, he went by the name Peter Lewis here in the US. I'm sending you each of their files."

"All right, thanks Garcia. I'm on my way in to the office now, just had a meeting with Jack's teacher. And before you ask, no, nothing's wrong, it was just to apprise me of the available course selections for his middle school next semester."

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Melissa awoke with a start. The eerie feeling of being in an unfamiliar bed passed almost immediately as the recollection of where she was and why set in. Rolling over, she brushed her hair out of her eyes and glanced over at Anna's bed. Alarm flooded through her anew as she realised the child's bed was empty and she jumped up immediately to investigate.

She fairly flew out of the room and came to an abrupt halt when she heard voices. Anna's. And Spencer's. Melissa heaved a sigh of relief and stifled a giggle as she peeked around the corner and saw the pair of them seated together on the sofa. Anna was curled up in Reid's lap, holding a book that he was apparently reading to her. Melissa's heart soared at the sight, and a wide smile spread across her face. Winnie the Pooh and friends were sharing an adventure with Anna and Spencer, and he was doing voices for each of the characters as he read. Recited, not read, Melissa realised after a moment. He obviously knew the book by heart and was doing gestures and making eye contact with Anna as he spoke. The child was entranced and in a moment, so was her mother. When the story ended, Anna looked up into Reid's face and begged,

"Again! My Spencer, please again!" He laughed and patted her head and Melissa chose this moment to interrupt.

"Maybe later, Anna," she indicated the open newspaper on the coffee table in front of Reid and continued, rather more sternly than she meant to sound, "You interrupted his reading the paper, didn't you?"

Anna looked down, lower lip quivering as she climbed off Reid's lap and for a moment Spencer thought she might cry.

"Awww, it's okay. Winnie and Eeyore are fun, too," he soothed. "But your mom's right. Later. We should all probably eat some breakfast. I could really use a coffee," he said, and then added with a wry grin "Or ten."

He rose to press the call button for his nurse and inquired about food, which the woman said she'd have sent up immediately.

Melissa offered to make coffee and set about doing so as Reid walked off to use the bathroom. She took mugs and spoons from the cupboard and retrieved milk from the refrigerator.

Anna approached her mother and tugged at her arm.

"I'm sorry Momma. Are you mad at me?"

Melissa stopped what she was doing, bent down to hug her and replied, "Of course not, Baby. You just can't be bothering Spencer too much, he's supposed to be in bed."

"From the owies?"

"Yes honey."

"I love My Spencer Mommy."

Melissa's voice dropped to a whisper. "I know you do, honey. So do I."

Reid returned from the bathroom in time to hear the last of the exchange, but he gave no indication he'd overheard. Instead he asked rather loudly,

"Is Nurse Ratched here yet?"