A/N: Many thanks to everyone who takes the time to read this story, especially to the lovely Guest who leaves me such wonderful feedback. I hope you will forgive me for this chapter. :')

"There is a little boy inside the man who is my brother… Oh, how I hated that little boy. And how I love him too"

- Anna Quindlen

"Big, big booty... damn. Why can't I get that song out of my mind?"
The man said this to himself and cranked up the air conditioning. He was driving along a dusty road outside somewhere of El Paso, Texas. He had to check the navigation to make sure he was headed to the right place. It wouldn't do to get lost this time of the night in the middle of nowhere. Out there on that deserted road, away from city lights, the stars above seemed to be following the car with their eyes.
"Stupid heat", he growled.
He pulled off his sweatshirt. His t-shirt was sticking to him with sweat. After daring to sniff himself, he was satisfied he didn't smell that awful.
"Still gonna need a shower when you get off, boy"
He was in the habit of talking to himself when alone. Silence and he never got along. If possible, he would have avoided driving alone in the night, or asked someone for company. But the task he was up to was not one he could have ignored.
He was carrying a whole trunk load and backseat full of medical supplies for one of his organisation's mobile clinics. It was all going to end up in Botswana, in the villages that needed it most. His colleagues weren't expecting him until afternoon the next day, but he intended to get there as soon as he could.
One of the reasons he had undertaken this odd chore was to see Selena, the cute doctor who had given him her number the last time they had met. She was part of the team that would run the mobile clinic in Africa.
He asked himself,
"Should I use a line?"
Flirting came to him easy. There was always a witty remark ready on the tip of his tongue. But for Selena, he didn't want to use any of his "charms". He wanted her to see him for who he was, no smoke and mirrors.
He wondered if he should consult his brother about Selena. His brother would know the right approach towards a woman like her.
Beautiful, serious, no-nonsense Dr. Selena.
Or at the least, his brother would share some words of wisdom and encouragement.
"Maybe tomorrow. Wait. Who's that?"
Up ahead, from the roadside, a shadow was waving at him. He could make out the silhouette of a man in the dark. The hitchhiker was holding a duffel bag.
"What are the odds of finding a hitchhiker when I'm itching for company?"
The man in the car remembered his sister's pointed words about his "kindness towards strangers".
But come on. How could he leave a man out there alone in the dark? It was past midnight already. And the guy seemed okay. He looked to be in his mid-forties, tall and hefty. A salesman, probably.
"This is how you get murdered, Georgie. Monica would have a laugh if you did"
George Knight stopped the car before the stranger. He gazed at the hitchhiker from top to toe. The man had a genuine look of remorse on his face.
"...missed my bus... my daughter's birthday tomorrow..."
George couldn't bring himself to deny the man a ride. It wasn't his nature to turn away someone in need. What was the worst that could happen, right?
"Sure. Hop in", he said.

Lately, Spencer had been coming home in time for dinner. He would be sitting across from Monica, having the best view he knew. Veronica wasn't as quiet as them though. She had to catch Daddy up with everything that had happened at her playschool that day. She only stopped talking when he started reading her a bedtime story.
"Good night, my little heart"
He kissed the top of her head. Now asleep, Veronica hugged Bunny tighter. Spencer moved away from her new bed, making sure he didn't accidentally kick Bubbly again.
Since Veronica's arrival in their lives, the old dog had completely forsaken his own little bed in the drawing room. He preferred to sleep by the foot of Veronica's bed instead, peeling his eyes open at the slightest sound of movement around her.
"Good night, Bubbly", Spencer whispered.
He walked out of the room with quiet steps, which turned into power walking the moment he was away from the door. Someone was waiting for him after all.

Monica was reading in bed. But the book which she had wanted for months couldn't hold her attention that night. There were other things on her mind.
Just one, actually. Her boyfriend.
Dr. Reid had been so affectionate the last few weeks. He always was, but this new affection was more physical.
He would kiss her out of nowhere. He would put his arms around her all of a sudden. Even at dinner, she would catch his gaze trailing slowly down her face, her neck to her chest. With all the sex they were having, not once had he seemed distracted or tired to her.
Other than that night when he had made her read that article about conceiving... right before sex. Anatomical diagrams and all.
She smiled. He hadn't changed, not the bits of him she loved. He was still the same sweet, intelligent man who always looked at her like he couldn't believe his luck. If someone had asked Monica, she would have told them she was the lucky one. Being loved by Spencer Reid was the greatest joy she had ever known.
"You're still reading that?"
Monica watched Dr. Reid as he climbed into bed next to her. His voice had that soft tone, and his eyes that almost liquid glint. His Iet-me-give-you-some-sweet-loving look.
She smiled back at him.
"Not anymore I am", she said.
"Good"
He took the book out of her hands, placing the bookmark in it with care. He put her book on the night stand before taking off her glasses. Monica's heartbeats quickened with the anticipation she had felt too often as of late. Dr. Reid gave her a sheepish smile before saying,
"I love having you here"
"Where?"
"In bed with me"
She grinned.
"There's no other place I'd rather be"
"Thank god"
He reached for her with his lips as his hands began to roam along her body. Her neck, her shoulders, the scar on her arm, the curve of her breasts. His hand was still cupping her breast when Spencer withdrew from the kiss and said,
"Would you like to try something different tonight?"
With his thumb flicking over her clothed nipple, the most intelligent reply Monica could give was -
"Something different?"
"Something we haven't tried before. It's... you would be on your hands and knees, and I... I would be behind you"
"You can't just say doggy style?"
"No, it sounds weird. But research says it allows for deeper penetration, and the sperm won't have to travel for too long to reach your cervix"
"All this talk about your sperm and my cervix, it really turns me on, Doc"
"Tha... are you being sarcastic?"
"No"
"Then why are you laughing?"
Monica had burst into an artless giggle. Spencer smiled too before kissing her again.

They were in a tangled embrace, which got more intense as Monica kept kissing him, when Spencer's phone rang. Their heads turned at once, staring at his cellphone. His chest rose and fell with each breath as he stayed on top of her. Monica's arm around his neck kept him from grabbing the phone off the nightstand. She said,
"Who the hell is cock-blocking me at this time of the night?"
"Sorry. Let me check"
Feeling guilty, Spencer planted a quick kiss on her lips before reaching for the phone. He sat up straighter in bed when he saw the caller id.
Monica grumbled,
"That better not be Emily. She and I had a deal"
Spencer's brows furrowed as he kept looking at the phone screen. It said 'Dr. Catherine Dawson' - Monica's sister. If it was just any routine call, Catherine would have called on Monica's phone.
"It's not. I... I have to take this though. Excuse me", he said.
Wondering what was wrong, Spencer walked out towards the drawing room. Monica didn't follow him.
"Hello?"
"Spencer? It's... it's Catherine. Monica's sister"
She sounded like she was crying. Hoping to god Monica's parents were all right, he said,
"Is everything okay?"
Catherine sobbed some more. She choked on her own words, trying to speak.
"George... George. Spencer... he's dead. M-m-murdered. Oh my god. How am I going to tell Monica?"

Death always hit him worst when it came as a surprise. Almost two million people lived and died every day. But it was different when it came to someone you knew. Spencer had tried to reason with himself while Catherine cried over the phone, trying to explain. But his reason was overpowered by sorrow. There was a tight knot in his chest at the thought of George dying and how it was going to affect Monica.
"I know it's too much to ask but... could you tell her? Please. I don't have it in me to do it. Max and Audrey are barely able to hold Mom and Dad together. And themselves. My brother... why..."
He had assured Catherine that he would break the news to Monica. Hoarse from crying, Catherine sounded like she was going to collapse any second. He couldn't even ask her for details of the... murder.
George murdered - it felt like the cruellest thing in the world.
He had to keep his head though. There would be time later to question everything about George's death, but it wasn't now. What he needed to be in that moment was the man who loved Monica, not SSA Spencer Reid.
He would tell her. He had to.

"Who was it?"
Monica asked him the moment he set his foot in the bedroom. She seemed slightly anxious, like she were hoping he hadn't been called into work again. But he didn't know how to tell her this was much worse.
He walked to her like there were weights attached to his feet. Monica kept looking up at him.
She was so beautiful to him in that moment. Her green eyes turned to him, the nightdress hanging low over her bosom, her face a mix of hope and trepidation.
"Everything all right?", she asked.
Spencer held in a sigh. He stood by the bed, right before her. He reached out a hand to touch her cheek. It was cool against his skin with the night air, but soft as ever.
"Dr. Reid?"
Still thinking, he sat down by her side. This he had never had to do before. Tell somebody that someone they loved had died, been murdered. Maybe a few victims' families, but never someone he loved.
All his wealth of knowledge seemed insufficient in that one moment. The only wise course he could think of was to lay the truth bare before her eyes. How in the world could he soften the news of her brother being dead?
"Monica..."
Saying her name only made it worse for him. Her expression of hope had now turned into worry. Spencer soldiered on.
"That was Catherine"
"Cat... my Catherine? I mean, my sister?", she asked.
He nodded. Taking in a breath that felt acrid as smoke, he said,
"I'm so sorry. But... George - someone hurt him. He's... dead"
She didn't speak, just stared at him. He watched her lips move in a futile attempt to speak.
"George?", she said.
"I'm so sorry"
Monica kept looking at him, as if she were expecting him to tell her it wasn't true.
"How?"
He told her what he knew.
"Texas police found... his body. Somewhere outside of El Paso. He was headed somewhere in a rental car"
"Was he shot?"
"Stabbed. And...", he winced inward, "Bludgeoned. They are bringing his... they are bringing him to Washington. Catherine and Elaine are waiting for it at the hospital. Audrey and Max are bringing your parents"
When she did shift her eyes away from his face, tears ran down her face. Spencer put his arms around her as if he were just remembering they were there. In his arms, Monica was stiff and pale. She said at length,
"I have to go too"
"Of course. Can you..."
She got up before he could finish asking. Her reaction left him gazing at her in surprise. She was already putting on her clothes and saying,
"Could you stay with Veronica, please? I'll call you when I get there"
He got up.
"I'm coming with you. We'll leave Nica with JJ. I'll call her right now"
"Don't. You should stay here with her. I..."
He said,
"I'm coming with you, Monica. JJ can look after her for the night"
She absently buttoned her shirt and said,
"Okay"
Spencer made for his phone to call JJ. But the sight of Monica just mechanically putting on her clothes, looking into empty space - it worried him. He walked to her and put his hands on her arms.
"Look at me. Please", he said.
She did. But the light had gone out of her eyes. She looked like she had aged years in minutes. She stood still, watching him, until his hands on her began to feel odd and out of place. Spencer heard her say,
"Please call JJ. We need to get to the hospital soon"
He tried to think of the right words to say. Something that might illicit an honest response from her, not this facade.
"Okay"
He let go of her and called Jennifer. And all the while, his eyes were on the woman who walked to their daughter's room, squaring her shoulders and shutting off herself to the world.