Title: Chasing Ghosts 1/?
Summary: Reid's sister visits and everything changes
Warnings: Slashy overtones kinda Reid/Morgan
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
Chasing Ghosts 6/?
The short one and half hour flight was tense. The plane was clearly divided in half. Morgan, Jason and Reid bunched together, secure in their belief, while Hotch sat at the opposite end, as far away as possible, with JJ in the middle like a neutral buffer. Reid missed the glancing eye conversations that Morgan and Jason had, mind turning over various unpleasant possibilities for the immediate future. He barely glanced up as Gideon got up and walked over to Hotch for a short conversation. However, he did notice when Morgan sat down next to him, so close he could feel the heat from Morgan's thigh.
"Reid, man, I just wanted to let you know that whatever happens, I believe you, and more importantly, I believe in you."
Reid looked up and blinked rapidly, cursing the dampness in his eyes, thinking himself weak. Morgan's hand came into view and rested on top of Reid's hand. "Read my aura now."
Reid lifted his head and gently cupped Morgan's hand, his eyes drift slowly closed as he murmurs nonsense under his breath—disjointed words and syllables until he freezes and his eyes flying open with shock meet Morgan's gaze. "Do you really feel—I mean—" Morgan's eyes hold no fear only sincerity, but before they can continue, Gideon sits down heavily across from them and orders them to buckle up. Most of Reid wants to throttle Gideon for interrupting, but a small part was sincerely thankful. Time to think and meditate was always good, especially with something like this. But now the plane was landing and it took every bit of will power that Reid has, but he clears his mind and starts to focus on the case.
0o0
It was rather bleak outside the plane, wind gusted and clouds rolled over head. Trooping in a despondent little line, they headed toward the tarmac and the waiting figure.
Rather than shouting over the wind, Laurel led the team into the tarmac. "You don't seem very surprised to see us," Hotch commented.
Gideon and Morgan shot him disbelieving looks "Spencer didn't say that he was bringing his team," Hotch's scowl deepened, "but I had a feeling." Her lips curled in a queer little smile, and Hotch looked away first.
"Quickly. We need to view the latest body as soon as possible." They rushed through the security flashing their badges walked up to two Toyota Echos. "Sorry they're not two of your standard government issue gas-guzzlers, but we are a green facility."
"This is Harold. He works at the center." Reid's eyes tracked Hotch and he quickly climbed into the car that he chose. JJ followed suit and Harold climbed into the driver's side. That left Morgan, Gideon and Laurel in the other car.
"You don't want to catch up with Spencer?"
Laurel smiled a bit and Gideon felt a sudden sweeping feeling of uncertainty. He hadn't felt this far out of his depth in a long time. "I would dearly love it if Spencer and I had some time together, but he's quite busy running interference with that man, Agent Hotchner. Now is unfortunately not the time or the place."
"You seem very close."
"It wasn't always that way. Spencer and I will never be mistaken as anything but related physically, but spiritually we're not very similar at all. I was always strong and willful, unbending. By the time Spencer was born, I was leaving. We're fifteen years apart and I didn't see him again until he was twelve."
"Seriously?" Morgan was aghast at the idea of not visiting one's family.
"Strong and unbending doesn't mean without problems. I had a lot of things to work out before I went home. When I got there, I hadn't realized what had happened in my absence. I first thought that Spencer was very fragile, weak to bend in every direction that my mother blew, but later I came to see that as a kind of strength, bending without breaking. When I realized how sick our mother really was, I had her institutionalized. And Spencer came to live with me. We became much closer during that time, and I think that I was perhaps the first person to see him as he really was. That bending that seemed so weak hid an inner strength where he managed to go his own way.
"I thought he should come with me to the institute and test the limits of his abilities but he quietly managed to do exactly what he wanted, and what I disapproved of the most— he joined the FBI.
Gideon felt like he should protest or offer some proof that they deserved Reid and would do right by him, but was starting to realize that there was a lot more they could be doing and weren't. Shamed, Gideon turned to the window and the rest of the trip was spent in silence.
They arrived a bit later than the first car, and apparently they were already heading to the morgue. "I hope you don't mind, but I wanted Spencer to see the body as soon as possible. The closer he is to the time of death, the higher the chance of him picking something up."
Hotch didn't seem to have relaxed any since Gideon had seen him, but Reid didn't seem to even notice as he leaned in close, inspecting the body.
"When did he die? About twelve hours ago?"
The coronerlooked a bit startled while answering, "Yes, right around midnight . Apparently it was a –"
"Heart attack."
"Yes!" The coroner (corner) looked slightly freaked out, but Reid was oblivious.
"I can see how you would think that." Reid turned his attention to the team and Laurel.
"Here," Reid pointed at the heart area, "this is where the disruption occurred. The unsub placed a block here and it caused it to look like a heart attack."
The corner looked up, "I didn't find any signs of foul play!" He sounded deeply offended.
Reid looked over startled having forgotten about the man, countering, "But you didn't find anything that indicated that his heart should have stopped working, like scar tissue or plaque build up?"
The coroner squirmed under the scrutiny, "no."
Reid glanced at the coroner. "The body has been completely processed and washed, correct?"
The coroner nodded, and Reid closed his eyes and pressed his hand over the victim's heart. "Hey, what is he doing? He's not wearing gloves-" Morgan reached out to restrain the man.
"Watch. He's working." Morgan felt worry stir in him, Reid's face didn't hold the peaceful concentration of when he had read Morgan's aura, and as the color continued to leach from him, Morgan wasn't sure if there was any blood left in Reid's head at all. Gasping, Reid wrenched his hand away and swayed violently, his white knuckle grip on the autopsy table the only thing keeping him up right. Morgan rushed over and half carried Reid to the office desk chair where he slumped over looked half dead himself. When he spoke his voice came out rasping and strained. "Definitely a serial killer. Older, forties, doesn't suffer fools gladly," he murmured. "He won't stop killing, not until he's caught, and he'll never be caught." Reid's head lifted up briefly and Morgan gasped in shock at Reid's eyes, completely white, and clouded over, until he slumped forward, and then Morgan realized that Reid was passing out and not channeling some spirit. Catching him deftly, Morgan leaned him back in the chair and balanced him carefully.
"Well? Now what?"