A/N: Woah! I've been typing so much over the past few days that I think my fingers are gonna be sore soon. 'What happens when my life gets… messy. (growls) But hey, if it means timely updates…

BUT, before going on with the story… THANK YOU, so much, for all your reviews! I savour every single one of them. (GLOMPS) You guys can't even imagine how dear you are to me. So thank you!

Awkay, before this gets all sugary and stuff… Let's rock, shall we? (takes a deep breath) I really hope that you'll enjoy this piece of the ride.

Ghosts From the Past

/ Lay in a huge bed, pain radiating from his bruised wrists and from much more intimate parts, Spencer took a shuddering breath. He wanted coffee, the fact that it was night be damned. He wanted a shower. But the sad fact was that he didn't think he'd able to move for a while.

Anton was only this rough before a new assignment.

Sure enough, Anton's voice sounded from outside the room. "I'll be out for a few hours." No explanations, no apologies. "If someone should come knocking don't let them in. They wouldn't be friends."

The apartment's door closed. Spencer kept his eyes shut for a little while longer, trying to separate his mind from bodily sensations; good and bad. It worked. When he opened his eyes they held barely any emotions.

Spencer's feet were stunningly cooperative as he made his way out of the room, then into kitchen. Whatever Anton ran out for must've been terribly urgent. The usually flawlessly controlled man had forgotten his laptop open.

Being friends with Penelope had never been proven more valuable. He brought a deleted file back to life with some clicks she taught him one day, while he was banned from field after getting shot and they were waiting for the team to return. Spencer swallowed upon discovering that it was crypted text, written in Russian. With a rapid glimpse he scanned it through. (To this day Anton didn't have the slightest idea that when the man whispered to him in his native tongue during the dark hours of the night Spencer understood every word.)

After a deep breath that hurt less than he'd expected Spencer took his cell phone with a slightly unsteady hand. He aimed, waited for a second, then snapped a picture and sent it. As soon as he was done he dialed numbers. "I just found something. It's crypted but to me it looks like a contract proposition. I can't risk taking a copy but I sent a picture of it to you."

"Good work." The other listened for a second, as though attempting to make out something from the sound of his breathing. "Is everything going well?"

Spencer inhaled once more, squeezing the edge of the table as hard as he could. "Yes. Everything's going according to the plan." He couldn't stop staring at the bruises on his wrists. Marks of fingers. "I'm fine."

When Anton came back four hours later, smelling of smoke and blood, Spencer was in the bed they shared with his eyes closed. Oddly cool lips kissed Spencer's cheek before Anton slipped underneath the covers as well. Only the shadows around them knew their secrets as they lay wide awake, inhaling each other's scent. Both wondering how long the illusion was going to hold. /

A month passed without a single trace of Anton Silas. It began to feel like the man and the violent mess he'd pulled Spencer into were nothing but parts of a really bad dream. Fragments of imagination.

But Spencer had lived that life for too long to be fooled. He remained alert, kept watching, kept waiting, never losing his focus. Listened to the signs.

All of a sudden Aaron's door had two new locks. ('Just in case' was the only explanation delivered.) Since he was officially unemployed Spencer made it his personal duty to make sure that Jack got to school and back home safely. 'No talking to strangers' was repeated over and over again. (The boy, of course, enjoyed the attention. Never even noticed the shadows of worry in his uncle's eyes.) Spencer kept an eye on the rest of the team as well. When Emily once mentioned that she felt like she was being watched Spencer spent hours on securing her apartment. There was no way he'd be able to forgive himself if something happened to one of them because of him. Because of his return.

Yet as it was Anton remained missing. Spencer's physical bruises healed. For the first time in forever life was… almost normal.

Almost. Because the average 'normal' usually doesn't involve Aaron Hotchner washing a baby's puke from his shirt. Spencer's eyes widened as he walked into the bathroom, woken up by the sound of water running. Then he winced, the sight truly sinking in. "Oh, no…!"

Aaron seemed almost amused. "I decided to feed and burp Lucia, since you'd finally actually fallen asleep. I didn't remember the towel." The man met his eyes. "I've been in this situation before, you know? Jack did this trick to me a dozen times."

All of a sudden Spencer found himself smiling. Really, truly smiling. He leaned against the doorframe, observing while Aaron finished the work. "It's good to have another safe adult in her life."

Aaron smiled. (A sight he'd missed tremendously while he was away.) "Honestly, I never expected that I'd get to do it all again." All of a sudden something dark appeared into those eyes. The smile faltered. "It… almost feels like she's my own daughter."

Spencer shivered. In full truth he'd expected this issue to be raised – it was only a matter of time. His muscles were painfully tense when he swallowed. "You're wondering if she could actually be yours", he murmured.

Aaron met his gaze. The look in those eyes nearly broke Spencer's heart. "Is it a possibility?"

Spencer shook his head although it hurt to bring such disappointment. There was a foul taste in his mouth. "I'm sorry, but no. We only… went there once and the timing doesn't match." He sighed, trying to steel himself against all those emotions Aaron didn't manage to hide. "I wish she was yours, though."

Aaron nodded. There seemed to be a lot more the man would've wanted to say about the matter. Instead the unit chief switched topic. "I wish you'd tell the rest of the team. I'm sure that they'd love to know. And they're suspicious. Just yesterday JJ asked me why I smell like baby all the time."

That encouraged a chuckle from Spencer. He then sighed. "I'll tell them as soon as the time is right, I promise. But right now… Right now I just try to take it from day to day. To get used to being back." Seeing the look on the older man's face he frowned. "What?"

Aaron shook his head. "It's just… good to hear you laugh. To see your eyes light up."

Spencer fidgeted slightly. He was almost sure that there was a blush on his face. "Oh." For a genius his vocabulary at the moment was tragically limited.

Aaron swallowed. And all of a sudden the man's hand brushed his hair, then his face. Their eyes locked and held. The moment, the anticipation, stretched until all eternity. And then they sensed that they weren't alone. Turning their heads they saw Jack standing by the room's doorway. There was a slightly confused look on the boy's face.

Aaron cleared his throat. "Hey, buddy. You woke up early."

Jack nodded, some of his questions momentarily forgotten. "I needed to pee, and Lucia was making noises."

Spencer swallowed, his skin tingling for reasons he couldn't quite explain. "I'd better go and make sure that she's okay."

Aaron seemed to be in a hurry to go as well. It was almost funny to see the usually stoic man squirming in his own skin like that. "I'll make us some breakfast. Cereal or toast?"

While their strange makeshift family continued with the morning routines Spencer blinked twice on his way to his daughter. Blinked, and wondered what in the world just happened. And why his heart was fluttering in his chest.

Jack was deep in thought while he walked towards school that morning, with Spencer pushing Lucia in a cart right beside him. They'd walked for about ten minutes until Spencer finally spoke. "You've been quiet all morning, Jack. What is it?"

There was a frown on Jack's tiny face as he finally vocalized what'd been bothering him. "I heard you and daddy talking. You both want him to be Lucia's other parent."

It took a couple of seconds (according to Jack's count, at least) before Spencer replied. "Yeah", the man admitted softly. "We do."

Jack bit his lower lip, processing. "You… really like each other, huh?"

Spencer watched him for a moment. He was too young to notice the new tension. "Would it bother you if we did?"

Jack shook his head. "No. That stuff is tricky sometimes, I guess. I think my mommy and daddy divorced but I was so little that I can't remember any of it." He thought hard. "Gwen's got two moms. And Keith's parents are divorced. Now his mom is getting married so he's gonna have another dad soon." Something close to excitement traveled through him. "Are you and Lucia gonna be our family, too?" To be honest he'd always sort of wanted a sister. "Daddy loves you and Lucia, I can tell even though I'm a kid. And you love him, too."

Spencer sighed. "Look, Jack… It's a lot more complicated than that. Sometimes… Sometimes there's so much mess and ache that love isn't enough. Sometimes people just can't stay together without hurting each other, no matter how much they love each other. Just like with your mommy and daddy and Keith's parents."

Jack gulped, feeling scared all of a sudden. He looked at Spencer, long and hard. "You're… not gonna leave again, are you?" He took the surprised looking man's hand, held on tight. "I don't want you to go."

Jack couldn't understand why Spencer looked so sad all of a sudden. Why should someone be sad over being asked to stay? In the end the man met his eyes, even tried to smile. "Jack… Do you remember how I taught you the secret of that disappearing trick?"

Jack nodded eagerly, grinning. It was one of his favorites. "Yeah."

Spencer nodded back. This time the smile held just a little bit less sorrow. "It's the same secret as with that trick. I'll always be right here, even when you can't see me."

Jack grinned. A weight disappeared from his chest. "So you're never ever gonna leave us?"

Spencer nodded. The look in the man's eyes made Jack feel safe and sound. "That right, Jack. I never left you and I never will."

The rest of the journey was completed with Jack babbling excitedly, Spencer listening contentedly, inputting a comment every now and then, and Lucia sleeping soundly. For a few moments of bliss no worries existed.

Almost exactly a week later Aaron sensed that something was off as soon as he entered the bureau. He was right. The exact words Penelope greeted him with were "He's back!".

The team was in the briefing room in a flash. No matter how little their faces betrayed they all shivered at the photographs greeting them. Most of them were old. Now a new one had been added to the nauseating mix.

New York, New York. A car that'd exploded to thousands of pieces. Victim number one. Lynn Delores, forty-two. She was supposed to deliver evidence against a well known drug dealer.

Hudson, New York. A young man slumped in the middle of a road. Thomas Warren, twenty-six. A former member of a homegrown terrorist cell.

Aside the obvious there wasn't a striking connection between those two murders. But a particularly sharp detective refused to give up and noticed something interesting. Numbers, drawn with red that looked ominously lot like blood. 'Seven' on the pavement on top of which Delores' car exploded. 'Six' on the back of Warren's bald head. That was when they were called over, two months after Spencer's disappearance. By the time they took the flight the killer took his third victim. They only discovered her because of Penelope's skills.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. A mere child who'd been stabbed ten times. Nadia Rhaynia, only nineteen years old. She'd been supposed to testify against her family. Number 'five' was written on the skin of her stomach, amongst the stab wounds.

While they were still trying to process what they had they received a note on victim number four. They'd been too late. Too slow.

Phoenix, Oregon. A man who'd been dropped from a balcony. Jeffrey Tanner, forty-three. He was a reporter who'd gotten just a little bit too close to the secret members of a rather well known criminal organization. 'Four' was written on his throat.

That was when the tracks went cold, so suddenly that it surprised even them. The killer disappeared as suddenly as he'd appeared, leaving the team wondering just how many victims there were that they didn't even know of – and how many more were to come. The press called the killer 'The Ghost'. The team kept working on the case for a week until Strauss ordered them to come back home and leave the chase to others. They returned with the bitter taste of defeat, seething with anger and frustration. They wondered if they'd ever meet the killer again. Now there was a new picture in the collection.

Carson City, Nevada. A man shot to dead in his car. José Barnes, thirty-nine. A former terrorist whose sentence had been shortened when he agreed to give a testimony against his former allies.

Penelope appeared slightly nauseated and put apparent effort to avoiding looking at the pictures. "They… found number 'three' from the apartment where the shooter took his hit." A new picture was flashed before them. More writing. "Along with this."

'ARE YOU FAST ENOUGH TO CATCH ME BEFORE I REACH NUMBER ONE?'

"That son of a bitch is playing with us", Derek growled.

Penelope bit her lower lip. "Since we lost 'The Ghost' I've been running occasional searches to see if he's reappeared. This caught my eye just an hour ago. I decided to give you a heads up immediately."

Aaron nodded. "Good job." His eyes darkened and his stomach twisted. Something about this particular case was bothering him greatly. Like he'd been missing something. "But we can't start working on this yet. We haven't been called in."

Derek's eyes flashed hazardously. "You've gotta be kidding me! The guy's calling out to us and we're going to sit around, waiting for him to strike again?" The subtext was loud and clear. Like we sat back and waited until Reid showed up bruised and traumatized? Until he saved himself again?

Aaron felt a slash but he wouldn't have become a unit chief if he'd let acting up team members mess with his head. "You know full well that there's a protocol that must be followed. Strauss has us under a microscope as it is. The last thing we need is to give her an excuse." He glanced towards the text. "But we'll send the local police a word to let them know that this killer is someone we've already faced. They need to know what they're up against."

David nodded in agreement. "This UnSub needs to be caught fast. He won't waste time on getting to numbers 'two' and 'one'."

There was a look on Penelope's face that caught all their attention long before she spoke. "You guys! Something just came in." Her eyes were wide, held a look that brought chills down Aaron's spine. "A… friend just sent this to me. There was a tourist on the spot, at the almost exact time the shooting took place. The police took copies of the pictures, just in case. This was taken only five minutes before Barnes was shot."

At first it looked like nothing more exciting than a day in a park. But then their eyes locked on a man who could've easily been disregarded. A man climbing out of a car with a seemingly harmless backbag. Age thirty-three. Very tall, athletic looking by nature. A well formed body dark clothes complimented flawlessly. Sharp, almost unnaturally blue eyes. Fashionably shortcut black hair. A man like him was bound to stand out but somehow he almost managed to blend in.

Almost. Because the team recognized from all those pictures Penelope had managed to dig out since they found out about this monster over a month ago. Aaron's heart stilled for a moment and nausea built up inside his rapidly twisting stomach. For he was looking directly at Anton Silas.

Derek summed it up for them all. "Shit…!"

With all his sleep deprivation Spencer was almost dozing off with his book, Lucia sleeping in a cradle nearby, when the doorbell chimed. He went to open after making sure that his daughter hadn't been disturbed, a frown on his face. He hadn't invited anyone over. It was difficult to smother the temptation to take his gun along.

What he found was a delivery boy who'd barely made it past his teens. Reddish blonde hair, green eyes, a lot of freckles and a nearly goofy smile. "Spencer Reid?"

Spencer nodded slowly. His muscles refused to relax. "Yes."

"I have a delivery for you. Could you sign here?" As soon as formalities had been taken care of the boy handed a neatly wrapped florist's bouquet towards him. "There you go. Have a good day."

Spencer nodded absentmindedly, not liking the sensation of dread in the pit of his stomach. "You too."

Not entirely sure that it was even safe to take the gift inside Spencer made his way to the kitchen. With his heart beating dangerously close to his throat the genius placed the bouquet to a table, then began to unwrap it with badly unsteady hands. A gasp broke through his lips when the contents became revealed. He recoiled a step, blood turning into ice in his veins.

Scarlet lilies. There was no note attached to the flowers because it wasn't necessary. The flowers were a loud enough message.

Tears of rage and terror filled Spencer's eyes. His whole body began to shake. His body and soul reacted to the information sinking in.

Anton knew exactly where he was. His time in utopia had ran out.

TBC

A/N: And the plot thickens, my friends. (shudders) 'Anyone else getting bad wibes from all of this…?

PLEASE, let me know your thoughts! Did this chapter deliver or fall flat? Leave a note and tell me! I'd be super excited to hear from ya. (glances with puppy's eyes)

Until next time, everyone! Hope I'll see lots of you then.

Peace out!

Guest: Welcome aboard! (grins) I'm very proud and happy to hear that you've enjoyed the story so far. (beams) 'Hope you'll be as satisfied with the next one!

I really hope that they'll end up okay, too. And stay together. (sighs) Oh, if only Lucia was Hotch's…

Massive thank yous for the review!

Guest2: I'll say! (shudders) Let's hope that this won't have a tragic ending, at least…

Huge thank yous for the review!