Title: Chasing Ghosts 3?

Summary: Reid's sister visits and everything changes

Warnings: Reid/Morgan (eventually)

Spoilers: Up to Fisher King pt 2

Notes: This is not part of my Las Vegas universe. This is a completely different AU. Thanks to Silentflux who continues to make me a better writer!

Rating: PG

The crime scene somehow managed to be worse that those pieces of meat in the morgue. Or at least that was the case for Reid. Morgan just climbed right in, walking around the house and studying the spray patterns, but Reid hesitated at the door. That taste of decay had lingered on his tongue, and here the smell was returning. He felt like he could see it rolling out of the house like heat waves. Morgan looked back over his shoulder asking, "Reid, man, seriously, are you okay?"

Reid stared back at Morgan eyes wide, but steeling himself, he lifted his foot and stepped into the house. Nothing. He took a breath and started to gag. 'God that was terrible,' he thought as he leaned against the doorframe to get his bearings. He started to breath through his mouth, and the smell was still there, still terrible, but not overwhelming. When he opened his eyes, Morgan was standing there worried, with his cell phone in his hand. Eyes wide, Reid snatched the phone before Morgan could dial. "No. Don't! I'm fine. It's just, can't you smell that?"

Morgan didn't reach for the phone, but he didn't seem to buy that Reid was fine either. "No. Reid, the house smells like a crime scene. Nothing more."

"NO! No, I've smelled crimes scenes! This is something else. This is like all those crime scenes, decayed bodies, and exposed intestines rolled into one and then magnified." Reid didn't seem to realize that he shuddered as he talked and his eyes were unfocused.

"Reid, I don't smell anything."

Reid looked away, biting his lip before straightening and lifting his head up. "I can handle it." Reid handed Morgan his phone back and walked into the livingroom. Morgan watched Reid's back as he walked away, stiffer than usual.

Reid took longer at the scene than was strictly required. Morgan wasn't sure if it was because Reid was distracted or trying to prove something, but he wasn't about to ask. Reid was wound tighter than a drum and Morgan wasn't about to antagonize him. The ride back to the station was tense, but Reid didn't seem to notice -- he was much too consumed with his own thoughts to notice the atmosphere.

The team was already gathered in the conference room of the police station when they got there. Reid, still preoccupied, didn't display his usual hesitance at interrupting and slid easily into a nearby seat. While he looked distant and unfocused, no one called him on it. But Gideon glanced at him a few times -- first in curiosity, then in agitation. "This spree killer is just going to get more violent and more random."

"Actually, I don't think this was a spree killing in the traditional sense." All eyes swung to Reid who was staring out the glass wall rather than at the team. "Looking at the spray patterns and the spatter, I think that the unsub was purposefully making the crime scene messy. It's like the unsub is showing his hatred for humanity by saying that they're only so much meat and stains."

"Right." Gideon didn't usually doubt Reid, or at least you could never tell if he did, but somehow it was clear that Reid's feelings on the case were about to be dismissed.

Reid, as if sensing his change in fortune, excused himself to the bathroom. He was bent, drinking from the water fountain when he caught a whiff of that same rancid stench that seemed to be plaguing him. More prepared for it this time, he spun and surveyed his surroundings, quickly spotting a person turning the corner. He hurried to catch a glimpse of the person, but was unprepared for his actual appearance. Reid would later be able to describe the man, but confronted with him in person, he was overwhelmed by the man's aura. It was swirling chaotically in horrible colors -- some for which he didn't have names. There were holes gaping in weird places and Reid had to firmly bite his lip to prevent himself from hurling at the smell. Turning away, he rushed back to the conference room.

When he got there, everyone seemed to be disbanding with assignments and Hotch looked like he'd locked on, but Reid wasn't interested in him. "Morgan!" Reid gestured for Morgan to follow him. Morgan, puzzled but trusting, did so.

Reid stopped when they were away from the others. "What's going on Reid?"

Reid licked his lips nervously, his eyes surveying, making sure that no one could see them before he said, "I saw the killer."

Morgan's eyes widened in shock. "What? How?"

"He works here as a janitor in the building. I-" Reid's voice dropped impossibly low and Morgan had to strain to hear him. "His aura was terrible." Reid shuddered, his slim shoulders shaking with horror. "I've never seen anything like it, not in all the serial killers we've seen. It's like his soul went bad, or rotted inside him or something. That scent from the crime scene was his. Morgan you have no idea how disturbed this man is. I have to tell the team."

Morgan grabbed Reid's arm as he walked by. "No Reid! Wait. You have to be careful about this. Hotch warned me about this stuff. Let's see if we can't seem to find some physical evidence. We'll tell them that you're following a hunch."

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Talking to the lab director netted them the ability to search the janitors' lockers -- random searches were permitted of the lockers but the cars on the lot would have to have a search warrant. The lockers weren't labeled but Reid went straight to one near the end. Morgan watched with the lab director Berkely as Reid carefully examined each object in the locker. "That's Nat Fairaday's locker. Why that one?"

Reid looked up from where he was examining a pair of tennis shoes intently. "Is Nat a tall man? Six one? Long brown hair pulled back in a pony tail?"

Berkely nodded dumbly, answering, "Yeah, that's him."

Reid wasn't watching, his attention was already turned back to the contents of the locker. Reid pulled some lumionol out -- from where Morgan didn't see, but he guessed that Reid borrowed it from one of the techs. Profilers usually weren't on the front line of the evidence chains. Carefully swabbing the sole, Reid spritzed the swab and they all watched as it turned pink. Reid turned back to Berkely, "Is this enough to get us a warrant?"

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Reid and Morgan ran with their warrant rather than pull the team in. Just in case. Morgan said it was in case Reid's hunch was wrong, but the truth of it was much more complex than that. Morgan didn't think that Reid noticed, being too preoccupied. CSU was going over Fairaday's car with a fine tooth comb and if there was any trace of the murder victim then they would find it. Reid and Morgan were more interested in finding a way into Fairaday's head. Although Reid had some doubts about what he would find. "What is that smell?"

Reid¢s head jerked up. "You smell it too?"

"Yeah, this minty Viks-vapor rub kinda scent."

"Oh. That's me. I put some under my nose to help combat the other smell. Coroners and other morgue workers use it to help with particularly bad decomp."

Unfortunately, the house didn't have anything out of the ordinary. Morgan was getting frustrated that there wasn't anything that stood out. If they didn't find something more than a little blood on a shoe, then they were going to have to tell the team why they thought Fairaday was the unsub. Reid came up behind Morgan who was fixin' to break the bad news that the house was clean.

"Wait." Reid reached out and blocked the closet door from closing. "What's that?" Reid pushed forward to the back of the closet and suddenly, the wall was swinging forward. One glance and they both had their flashlights out, moving as one forward.

Flashes of red and violence assaulted them with quick glances at slashed pictures and burnt edges. Reid found a light switch, flipped it, and Morgan about lost his lunch. The room was like nothing he'd ever seen -- body parts were hanging, pictures of the scenes. "It's like we walked into his Narnia."

Morgan look sideways at Reid. "Man, that is sick that you would even think of that."

"What?" Reid exclaimed defensively, as if associating a children's book with a spree killer's fantasy room was perfectly normal.