A/N: Yeah, so I officially have a monopoly on DP/CM cross-overs. YAY! Anywayz, darker than the other one. Be prepared for gore, and some other stuff, but nothing too explicit.

Playlist for this chapter: Breaking Benjamin's "Sooner or Later," Linkin Park's "Easier to Run," and OneRepublic's "Stop and Stare."

|23|) \/\/|-|!73 4|\||) |)34|)

He usually woke at the slightest sound. As a child, he once woke up from a dead sleep because his sister—in her room down the hall from his—coughed. That natural talent of his came in handy later, when he needed his subtle ghost sense to alert him at a moment's notice. However, there was always one exception to his talent.

Nightmares. Like the one he was having now.

Not even the cars driving by, the dogs barking, the trees whipping about in the wind, the thunder that almost immediately followed each flash of lightning could wake him. All because he was lost in the pure terror.

Of his past.

|23|) \/\/|-|!73 4|\||) |)34|)

This thing is just that. A thing. He—no, it's not even worthy of being called a 'he'—it killed its own family! The people who raised this monster! The people who took pity on it! It will likely kill us all! …No…not likely…. If given the chance, it will kill us. Every one of us….

You killed them, Daniel, not me. It was because of you that they died! And unless you leave now, you'll also have killed your friends.

|23|) \/\/|-|!73 4|\||) |)34|)

Danny lurched up, screaming. It took him a good five minutes to realize that he wasn't back there. It had been almost two years since he had left, and he was in Virginia now. Quantico. He had no idea what possessed him to come here, but for some reason, it felt right.

Now if he could just stay here for a while, he'd be free. And to do that, he needed a home.

|23|) \/\/|-|!73 4|\||) |)34|)

Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid was on his way in to work when he heard the screaming. The sudden change from peaceful to panicked caused him to reach for his gun.

But before he could pull it from its harness, the screaming stopped. Worried yet determined to find out what it was, Reid moved forward and into a small alley. For a few moments, he saw nothing. No blood, no weapon, no people. Then he moved forward a few more steps and saw a teen boy, huddled in the corner and gripping at his hair.

He fully released the gun now, creeping towards the boy, quietly so as to not startle him. "Hey," he said in a whisper, "what're you doing out here?"

The teen hadn't even moved, like he already knew someone was there. "M—My parents are gone for the week, and I lost my key. I'm locked out."

"No spare? No siblings?"


Reid blinked. That was a rather aggressive answer. He dismissed it and sighed. "You're welcome to come with me."


He looked puzzled that the boy would deny help. "Why not?"

"I don't know who the hell you are or what you do."

"I'm Spencer Reid. I work with the FBI, in the Behavioral Analysis Unit," Reid answered immediately.

The teen's eyebrow quirked up. "Oh? Prove it."

So Reid flashed him his badge. The kid nodded.

"Says 'Doctor' on this."

"Ah, yeah, not medical, though."

The teen nodded, extended a hand, still looking at the badge. "Danny. Where were you headed?"


Danny bit his lip. "…Does your offer still stand?"

Reid grinned. "Of course."

|23|) \/\/|-|!73 4|\||) |)34|)

Derek Morgan was the first to notice the tag-along. "Hey, Pretty Boy," he called, "who's the kid?"

"Uh, he's, uh, see, I—"

"Hey, kid, what're you doin' here?"

"Got locked out, he found me, brought me here," Danny replied simply.

"Yeah, well, whatever you do, don't get him started on math or science or—y'know, just don't get him started on anything."

Danny nodded while Reid looked flustered and Morgan walked over to his desk. Meanwhile, Emily Prentiss looked up from her own work. "Hey, Reid, what's with the kid?"

"Got locked out—" Danny began.

"I brought him here."

Prentiss paused, nodded, turned back around.

Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi came into the room, the former storming forward and the latter glancing amusedly at Reid's desk, which Danny seemed to have claimed.

Hotch passed the desk and stopped to talk to his three agents. "We have a new case. Come to the roundtable room and—"

"Reid, what's going on?" Rossi interrupted.

Hotch turned, glanced at Rossi, and followed his gaze to Reid's desk. "What…?" He frowned. "Reid, you know that as FBI, we do not have Bring Your Child to Work—"

Morgan and Prentiss laughed hysterically. Reid sputtered, almost glowing red. Rossi grinned, and Danny simply stated. "Not his kid. He pulled me off the street."

"I see," Hotch said. "So Reid will watch you while we start on this case."

"Ah, but—!"

"You can take the kid and help Garcia."

Reid looked defeated. "Yes, sir."

Danny, on the other hand, looked furious. "I don't need a babysitter."

Rossi glanced back at them. "Humor us. Reid, go help Garcia. And take the kid with you!"

|23|) \/\/|-|!73 4|\||) |)34|)

"We've got a trailing case," Jennifer Jareau—JJ—explained. "They've only recently connected the bodies."

"What do you mean?" Hotch asked.

JJ glanced around, frowned. "Where's—?"

"Reid's sticking with Garcia on this one. As a punishment," Rossi stated.

"He brought an unknown kid in," Morgan continued.

JJ raised an eyebrow but didn't ask. "The bodies were found in several different cities, trailing from California to Virginia."

"How are they connected?"

"Three people, a girl, boy, and man, killed over and over again."

"What?" Prentiss gasped.

"Exactly why the police were confused. There are nine bodies, as though three sets of identical triplets were murdered during some cross-country race. The deaths are somewhat spaced apart, about two months between each, and anywhere between fifty and two hundred miles apart."

"No noticeable differences between the bodies?" Hotch asked.

"They each have a tattoo of some numbers on the back of their necks, but that's it."

"So, who are they?" Morgan demanded.

"That's just it. We don't know. There's no files anywhere for any of them. They had no ID on them. There was nothing. The only thing that truly linked the three separate sets together were the messages, left behind in blood." She laid out the nine pictures.

"There will be more."

"The Phantom must move on."

"You can't save them."

"Give up and maybe I'll let them live."

"I know you're here."

"Fly away again, little Phantom."

"Flee like you always do."

"They just won't stop, will they? The nightmares."

"You're killing them. Over and over again."

The team was hushed. Then, "Who is Phantom?" Rossi wondered.

JJ shook her head. "No idea. Whoever he is, he's the reason behind this all. Our UnSub either wants him gone… or dead."

|23|) \/\/|-|!73 4|\||) |)34|)

Penelope Garcia could work with Reid in the room. Even if he did lean over her shoulder all the time. It was the teen who was disconcerting. At first, she'd been thrilled, cooing over the new 'cutie'. Then, he seemed to pull away from everything, like Reid often did. But, unlike Reid, he didn't blink and laugh it off when it was brought to his attention.

But Reid had ignored those scary eyes, so she could, too. She distracted herself by pulling up the photos of the crime scenes as Reid asked for them. Red blood flashed across her screens, and Reid made sure to get a good look at each picture before tellilng her to go to the next set. She did.

This was the one problem with her distraction. Now she needed a distraction from it. She found herself watching the teen's reaction to each set. As more blood was pulled on screen, the teen simply looked bored. Then, Reid asked to see the messages.

That set got a reaction from the teen. Not much of one, but still. His eyes had widened, and he tensed.

Reid still hadn't noticed, too caught up in whatever was going on in that pretty head of his. "Garcia, have you found anything yet on—?"

"Phantom? No, nothing yet."

Reid nodded. "Next?"

The next set was the bodies. She turned away again, just barely in time to see a flicker of something in the teen's eyes as he nearly killed one of her chairs by squeezing the arms too much. But the most surprising thing was the look on his face. It was a look of vengeance, of anger, of guilt.

It was a look of bloodlust.

|23|) \/\/|-|!73 4|\||) |)34|)

A/N: 'Kay. Have fun with this one! Or, as much fun as you can have while reading the gore and stuff. Interestingly enough, while my other CM/DP cross-over focuses more on DP, this one's more CM oriented. Funny. Anywayz, read and review!