"Judy, don't do it. You don't want to do this," Parker said calmly.

The young woman, Judy, shook her head. She stood behind Adaline, a classmate of hers, and held a gun to her head.

"Don't tell me what to do! You don't know anything!"

"Judy–"

Parker barely opened their mouth before Judy pulled the trigger and Adaline collapsed to the ground.

"Parker? Hey, Parker!"

Parker flinched, confused. It took them a moment to realize that they were sitting at their desk.

The young Agent ran a hand through their hair before they looked at Hotch, who had stopped next to them.

"Same dream?" the older agent inquired.

Parker told him about their nightmares when they started.

"Yep, same again," Parker replied.

They assured Hotch that everything was fine and turned back to work. Parker wanted to get some more work done before the BAU had their briefing.

"Okay," Hotch said. "If you want to talk, you know where to find me or Gideon."

The younger agent nodded.

"Good. We have a case, briefing in five minutes."

With that, Hotch disappeared. Parker let out a small sighed and let their gaze roam around the bullpen.

They recognized Spencer in the small kitchenette.

The young man also had nightmares– Parker noticed that Spencer was no longer there when they woke up.

And of course, Parker already asked their boyfriend about it, but Spencer assured them every time that everything was fine.

While the young Adult closed the file they just finished, Spencer made himself some coffee. Well, it was more like sugar with a bit of coffee flavor... but who cares.

"Easy there, tough guy. Have some coffee with your sugar," joked Derek as he also got some more coffee.

"I need something to wake me up," Spencer murmured, stirring his cup.

"Late night?"

"Very."

"My man."

"Not that kind of late night," Spencer replied.

Derek chuckled and put the coffee pot back.

"Okay, so tell me, what keeps young Dr. Reid awake at night?" Derek asked. "Wait, let me guess. Memorising some obscure textbook? No, no, no. Working on cold fusion. No, I got it, I got, I got it. Watching Star Trek and laughing at the physics mistakes."

"Actually, there aren't that many scientific errors in Star Trek," explained Spencer, being himself. "Especially considering how long ago it was made. There are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors."

The small grin on Derek's face disappeared as Spencer started babbling. The young genius was completely himself and didn't notice that Derek was joking.

"Right," was Derek's simple reply before turning to leave.

"Hey, Morgan?" Spencer then stopped the older agent. "Do you ever have dreams?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I guess nightmares would be a more accurate description," Spencer corrected himself.

"Is that what's keeping you up?" Derek wanted to know.

"I used to get them occasionally, but later it's like I have them every night."

"What are they about?"

"This. What we do. Do you have nightmares?"

"Reid, I'm not sure if I'm the right person for you to talk to about this," said the older agent.

"Why not?" Spencer asked.

"It's just, uh..." Derek started.

He then stopped the sentence and instead asked: "Did you ask Gideon about it?"

Spencer shook his head.

"What about Parker? Did you talk to them?"

The young man automatically looked for Parker. He saw them sitting at the desk. They had a pen in their hand and were writing something down.

Spencer could tell even from the tea kitchen that they had an idea for a new Short story– Parker always wrote everything down very quickly for fear of forgetting something.

He wanted to talk to them about it, but somehow, he didn't dare. Parker shouldn't worry about him, after all they were just nightmares.

"No."

"You should."

"Hey. Hotch wants everyone in the Round Table room," Elle ends the conversation.

The black-haired woman walked past the two men towards the conference room.

"Something up with you two?" she asked skeptically.

"No."

~~~~

Parker entered the room along with JJ, Hotch, and Gideon, where JJ immediately began presenting the case.

"McAllister. Western slope of the Massanutten Mountain in Virginia. Two bodies discovered in the woods, both with apparent blunt trauma to the head."

The young woman put the files on the table and the team looked at the pictures from the crime scene.

"Skeletons?"

"One of them. The second victim was just killed this morning."

"How do we know there's a connection?" asked Elle.

"Found about 75 feet apart with nearly identical head wounds," Hotch replied.

"Where's the rest of the case file?"

"There isn't one. The sheriffs are on the scene waiting for us."

"The location's only a half-hour away by plane."

"What's the rush?" Parker wanted to know.

"Well, there was evidence on the scene that could cause a bit of public outrage."

"Satanic cult," Gideon muttered.

He put the photo back on the table and Parker saw what he meant.

A pentagram was painted on one of the trees in red paint and underneath it was written 'SATAN LIVES L.O.D', also in red paint.

~~

Sir Peter Ustinov said,

"Unfortunately, a superabundance of dreams is paid for by a growing potential for nightmares."

"JJ, we need to obviously keep this out of the press for as long as possible," Hotch began once the jet was in the air.

"I'll do what I can."

"Why is that so important?"

"There was a nationwide scare in the 1980s involving Satanic ritual killings and abuse," Spencer began. "The "Satanic Panic," it was called. It began after the publication of a book about repressed memories being recovered through hypnotherapy. Memories of growing up with devil worshipers who used children in their rituals and ceremonies."

"Most of the claims were later found to be false or just impossible," Parker added.

"Still, numerous therapists accepted the assertions as true and began searching for similar signs in their own patients. After one year, thousands of people reported the exact same "repressed" memories."

"But the Bureau conducted an investigation and concluded that most of the ritual killings or abuse were more urban legend than anything else," Hotch reported.

"You're saying that there's no such thing as devil worship?"

"Not at all," Gideon objected. "But most of the Satanism we've seen is juveniles damaging property, desecrating churches, cemeteries. To my knowledge, there's never been a proven case of a Satanic ritual killing in the United States."

"Well, maybe there is now."

~~~~

Later, Parker stood at the crime scene with Spencer, Gideon and JJ and took a closer look at the tree with the writing on it.

In front of the tree lay the decomposed body, which was almost nothing more than a skeleton.

"Morning! John Bridges," a man in uniform introduced himself.

"Hi. Yeah, we spoke on the phone. I'm Agent Jareau, this is Agent Gideon, Agent Gallagher and Dr Reid with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit."

"Hi."

"Thanks for coming out so fast."

"Yeah, of course."

"There was an in-service in Charlottesville last year. Said if we ran into any unusual homicides we were supposed to call you folks. Sooner rather than later."

"Yeah, they were right," Gideon confirmed.

"So, is this unusual enough?"

"It certainly is interesting," said Spencer.

"You guys must get a lot of this, huh? Satanic stuff?"

"Not really," Parker replied.

"Who found the body?"

"Hiker found the first one on the trail. My deputies located this one while searching for evidence. Don't even know if it's a man or a woman."

"It's a man," Spencer spoke up.

While the others were chatting, he grabbed a stick and carefully picked up a scrap of cloth covering the boils.

"–Male pelvis is more narrow and the opening at the bottom is heart-shaped as opposed to oval."

"Is that melted wax?" Parker wanted to know as they also crouched down next to the skeleton.

"Candle wax?"

"Candles are used in rituals."

"Also used on birthday cakes," Gideon replied.

"Actually, they were originally used to protect the birthday celebrant from demons for the coming year. As a matter of fact, down to the fourth century, Christianity rejected the birthday celebration as a Pagan ritual."

Parker had a small smile on their face as he saw Bridges' confused expression.

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"My kind of doctor."

~~

"Spence, does "L.O.D." mean anything to you?" Parker asked and the young man shook his head.

"Mmm-mmm. I don't know of any significance in Satanism either."

"Well, I'd have Garcia research this "L.O.D." thing if I could get a call out," said JJ, trying to get a signal again.

"Not much of a chance of that coming out here," explained Bridges.

"Are there any cults in the area that you know about?" asked Gideon. "Secret groups? People you see you don't know much about? People who stay to themselves mostly?"

"This is a very religious area. Church on Sundays, fellowship on Wednesdays, Bible classes. If there was a secret group I'd probably know about it."

Parker scoffed.

"Something funny?" the resident police officer wanted to know.

"Well, no offense but, if there was a group being secretive, you probably wouldn't know, right?"

"Look, people out here just want a quiet place to raise their kids. What I know is none of them are capable of doing this."

"Alright," Parker nodded.

Everyone present knew that it had to be someone from here. So, one of the people doesn't just want a quiet place to raise their kids.

"Alright, I think we're done here."

~~

In the last few meters in front of the cars they had to climb a small slope.

Most people had no problems with it. Maybe they would have had some if the ground hadn't been dry.

But - at the risk of sounding cliché - Parker Gallagher wasn't like most people.

They lost their balance and staggered back. Expecting to land harshly on the forest floor, Parker reflexively closed their eyes.

"Be careful," Spencer said.

Parker opened their eyes, their boyfriend caught them. He helped his better half back on their feet. And Parker zipped up their jacket and pulled the end of the sleeve over their hands.

"Are you cold?" Spencer asked.

He already taken off his scarf and stood in front of Parker. The young man carefully wrapped the scarf around Parker's neck.

Their cheeks turned red – Parker blamed it on the wind. Instinctively, Parker tried to cover their cheeks with the scarf.

Parker mumbled a 'thank you' and they walked on together.

"Find anything interesting down there?" Hotch asked immediately.

"Yeah, it looks like some kind of ritual site."

"Have any of you ever heard the expression "Lod"? Or the acronym "L.O.D."?" Spencer asked as he stood next to Parker.

"Not me."

"Cherish? Cherish!" Parker heard a woman shout.

They turned towards the cars at the same time as the others. A blonde woman walked past the car.

One of the deputies was able to stop her in front of the tape.

"Sheriff Bridges!"

"It's okay, Harris. Let her in."

The woman climbed under the police tape and walked straight toward the sheriff.

"What Adam Lloyd killed out here?"

"Who told you that, Veronica?"

"What hey?"

"We're not releasing..."

"My daughter was with him! They went out running together this morning. Oh, my God, I can't find her. Cherish is missing! Cherish is missing! Help me, please!"

~~

"We're looking for someone who can overpower a victim," Gideon summarized. "Abduct a girl from a traveled path without being seen."

"Certainly fits with the cult theory. More than one UnSub to control multiple victims."

"But if the attack were ferocious enough, a single UnSub could, too. Kill Adam and grab the girl while she's in shock."

"This is some rough country," said Elle.

She and Derek had a look around nearby and now joined the others.

"We only went a quarter of a mile and we almost got lost."

"The UnSub has to be from this area. You don't just stumble onto a place like this."

"JJ, where did the Sheriff go?" asked Gideon.

The older agent turned to the young woman who was still trying to get a signal.

"He's setting up a search party."

"Tell him we want him to use volunteers from the area. Locals."

"Do you want him to know why?"

"No, not yet," Gideon said.

"Is it wise to alienate him?" asked Hotch.

"Well, he thinks we're looking for a monster. If we tell him we're looking for volunteers so we can profile who shows up, he might call the whole thing off."

~~~~

JJ was able to convince the sheriff to use volunteers for the search. The two drove back into town with Spencer and Parker. The couple wanted to find out what this L.O.D. thing was and what it meant.

At the entrance to the police station, the sheriff was approached by another man.

"What's happened, John?"

"Reverend Paul Burke, this is..." the sheriff began and stopped.

"I'm sorry, I forgot your name."

"I'm Agent Jareau. These are Agent Gallagher and Dr Reid," JJ introduced herself and her colleagues.

"They're with the FBI."

"FBI?" the reverend repeated in surprise. "It's true, then? Adam's dead?"

"Cherish Hanson is missing, too."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Actually, yes. We're putting together a search party. Could you call the congregation?"

"Of course. Of course, I'll go make some calls."

"Thanks, Reverend."

The agents followed the sheriff into the building. The office in McAllister was much smaller than in Quantico, in fact it could almost be described as cozy.

"You two can use any phone. Just dial nine to get an outside line," the sheriff addressed Parker and Spencer. "I've got an emergency phone list back here in my office."

He and JJ entered his office. Parker and Spencer looked around a bit.

On one wall were pictures of the high school football team and one of the members (Parker had heard that the sheriff had a son and assumed it was the boy) and related newspaper articles. On the cupboard below were a few trophies and an old football.

While Parker looked more closely at the items, Spencer reached for the football.

"Do you play ball?", someone said to Spencer.

The two agents turned around. The boy in the photo suddenly stood in front of them; he had short, light hair and was holding a few school notebooks.

"No."

"Yeah, I probably wouldn't have either if not for my father. I'm Cory," the boy introduced himself and held out his hand.

"Spencer Reid."

"Parker Gallagher."

"Is that Nietzsche?", Spencer wanted to know and pointed to the front of the school books.

"Thus Spake Zarathustra is rather antagonistic of the Judeo-Christian world-view for this town, isn't it?"

"I don't think too many people here would have bothered to read it. If they had, they wouldn't understand it," said Cory. "Might as well be a Hawking essay on quark theory."

Parker furrowed their eyebrows, not seeming to fully understand the joke. While Spencer seemed to understand the reference and nodded.

"Hey, nobody ever got that reference before," the high school student wondered.

"Is my father around? The Sheriff?" he then quickly changed the subject.

So Parker's previous guess that the boy was the sheriff's son was correct.

"He's in his office with another agent," Parker replied

"Agent?"

"We're with the FBI. The Behavioral Analysis Unit," Spencer explained.

"Profilers? This is mad cool. I got like a hundred questions I got... Wait. Why would FBI profilers be here in McAllister?"

Parker cocked their head slightly to the side. Mostly they had to explain people what their job was because hardly anyone knew the term 'profiler'.

Spencer seemingly ignored the other agent's reaction and answered the question.

"There was a murder outside of town. On the mountain."

"A murder?" Cory asked.

"And a girl's missing," Parker added, watching Cory's reaction.

"It's Cherish, son," said the sheriff as he left his office.

"Cherish Hanson?"

"Yeah. Putting together a search party. I need you to get the rest of the team together and meet us out at the trail about half a mile south of the Point."

"Yeah. Okay."

Parker watched the teenager leave the police station to gather his friends.

"Is something wrong?" Spencer snapped Parker out of her thoughts.

"Huh?"

The young agent turned their head in Spencer's direction. He already had the phone in his hand, but was looking at Parker.

"Yeah, I-I just have a feeling, you know?"

"Um–"

The young man blinked a few times and then, without moving, looked at the window, at the floor at the front door and then back at Parker.

"–Yes?"

It sounded more like a question. Parker left it at that and decided to get themself and Spencer a coffee while Spencer talked to Garcia on the phone.

~~

Garcia didn't find anything about 'L.O.D.' It wasn't a common abbreviation for anything.

So the agents had to focus on the volunteers. Parker stayed behind with JJ and helped Garcia go through the names.

" Man, this is one Peyton place of a town ," said Garcia. " Most everyone lives well above the median income of the country. You have doctors, lawyers... One guy owns a bunch of shoe stores up and down the Eastern Seaboard. "

"Is he married?" JJ wanted to know jokingly.

" Yeah. Story of my life, sunshine. "

"Being single is great too," Parker pointed out. "You are two strong, independent women."

"Says the person who is in a happy relationship since they are what... 15?", JJ replied.

" Yeah, we love you Parker, but as one half of our OTP you don't understand what it's like, " Garcia agreed with JJ.

JJ and Parker could practically feel Garcia's little grin.

"Love you, too, Penny," Parker said, rolling their eyes.

" Anyway, Reverend Paul Burke. Looks like he was born-again in prison. "

"Prison?"

" Yeah. Two years as the guest of State of Ohio for embezzlement. Look, I'm seeing a lot of tax sheltering and various hanky-panky here, but I'm not sure what would suggest potential Satanic cult members. "

Parker, who had been twirling their pen between their fingers, stopped. They opened their mouth to say something, but Garcia was quicker.

"Hold on."

"What, you got something?"

" Yeah, I got a guy with a ton of debt. Spotty work history. His house is in foreclosure. He's got a record, too. Assault with a deadly weapon three years ago. "

"Wait, does it say what the weapon was?" asked JJ.

" Baseball bat. "

"Our UnSub used a blunt object," Parker pointed out.

" Bats are blunt, aren't they? "

"What's this guy's name?"

" Dent. Henry Dent. "

Parker reached for the list and luckily the name was on the first page.

"Okay, here he is," they murmured. "Grid B-5."

JJ, in front of the map with the squares drawn on it, looked to see who he was with.

"That puts him with Elle."

~~

A few hours later the girl still hadn't been found.

But instead Elle had found a piece of paper that said: ' Satan commands the virgin to be sacrificed at the next full moon .'

It got dark and the search had to be paused until morning. Parker had a bad feeling about this, the next full moon was tonight.

The team had gathered at the police station after sunset.

"Here for you," Parker said and handed Spencer a cup of coffee.

"Thanks," he murmured.

The other young agent put their hand on his arm and tapped it four times.

'Love you, too,' Spencer wanted to reply, but Parker already turned around and stepped away.

Spencer put both hands around the cup and yawned.

"Tired?" Hotch asked.

"I'm fine."

"We all get them sometimes."

"Get what?"

"Nightmares."

Spencer looked at Hotch surprised, then at Morgan and then shook his head slightly.

"It's not that bad", assured Spencer.

"If you want to talk about it, you know where I am."

"They're ready," JJ reported as she and the sheriff approached them.

"OK."

The officers gathered and Parker began presenting the profile.

"Contrary to popular belief, there has never been a proven case of Satanic ritual killing. Never a verified human sacrifice. Having said that, there have been isolated cases of animal sacrifice. And many, many cases of vandalism in the name of Satan."

"Now, that doesn't mean that ritual Satanism is impossible. And, more importantly for our purposes, there have been cults that killed. Just not in ritual fashion", Morgan added.

"The Reverend Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple. His followers killed a U.S. Congressman and three people before committing mass suicide, leaving over 900 people dead. And perhaps the most widely known of the killer cults, the Manson Family, under the direction of Charles Manson, killed nine people in a four-day period in an attempt to initiate a race war", explained Spencer.

"Killer cults do exist. And they all have one thing in common. Invariably, they're headed by charismatic megalomaniacs."

"You're looking for that leader. He's who will stand out. He'll be memorable to somebody. People who aren't in his group will see him as strange, weird, scary."

"Since we're dealing with professed Satanists, which is often practised by younger males, we may be looking for teenagers. Heavy metal music is often associated with Satanism, and these kids and their leader may reflect that in their look."

"Most likely there'll be sex, drugs and alcohol. Now, the leader, he'll be older. It's part of his charm."

"And he is from this area. He's definitely local."

"These woods are too thick and confusing for a visitor to get around in."

"You think one of our own people is doing this?", the sheriff wanted to know.

"We're sure of it."

"I would know if someone was capable-"

"Dad?" Cory interrupted his father carefully. "I know somebody like that."

Cory, the Sheriff, the Reverend, Hotch, Gideon, Spencer and Parker gathered in the office.

"Who were you just talking about, Cory?"

"His name is Mike Zizzo. He graduated about five years ago. He's in his twenties, but he still hangs out with high school kids. He's got a group of them. They follow him everywhere. They all get high and listen to heavy metal. He calls them "The Lords of Destruction.""

"L.O.D."

"How do you know this, Cory?" asked the sheriff. "It's all right, Son."

"I've been there. Where they hang out. Drinking beers," Cory confessed. "He talks about Satan all the time. Says he's the one true God."

"Where is this place?"

"On the other side of the mountain. The old Jenson house."

"It's out of my jurisdiction."

"Not ours," Hotch replied.

Parker and their colleagues immediately set off, followed by the sheriff.

"I'm not going on the raid," Gideon suddenly said as everyone got into the car.

"What's up?"

"I don't know yet."

~~

"Is someone going to tell me why I'm here or are we just going to play staring games all night?" asked Mike Zizzo.

They found him at the Jenson house and put him in the interrogation room. And now he was sitting across from the sheriff, Hotch and Parker.

"This was found where Cherish Hanson went missing."

Hotch put the note on the table.

"No wonder everyone's all freaked out. McAllister's perfect debutante is in trouble."

"Read the note."

Mike reached for the paper with a sigh and snickered as he finished reading.

"You think threatening someone to kill this girl is funny?"

"No. I think someone calling Cherish Hanson a virgin is funny," Mike replied.

"You a Satanist, Mike?"

"Sure."

"You worship the devil?"

"You even know what Satanism is?" Mike asked a counter question.

"Educate us," said Parker.

Mike turned his head in Parker's direction and looked up and down at them before looking back at the sheriff.

"The word Satan comes from ancient Hebrew. It just means "opposer." Satan opposes the hypocritical morals and dogma of the so-called Holy Church and its followers. If you grew up in this town with God shoved down your throat every day, you'd oppose it, too. It's all hypocrisy. Do this, don't do that, and all the time the adults are the ones screwing up. So basically, we're just atheists. Aggressively atheist."

Elle stepped forward and placed crime scene photos on the table for Mike to see.

"How aggressive, Mike?"

"What the hell is this?"

"Why don't you tell us, Mike?"

The young man looked up from the photos, confused.

"I've never seen this before."

"Pentagram, body, candles, L.O.D. Lords of Destruction."

"I've never seen this."

"From where I stand, Mike, it looks like you signed it."

"Look, we draw stars upside down, get drunk and listen to metal. That's it. Okay? We don't kill people," said Mike.

His reaction was genuine, he had nothing to do with the murder and kidnapping.

"This is your chance to make this right, Zizzo," said the sheriff.

Unlike Parker, he didn't believe a word Mike said.

"You don't want to make it right. You want to blame someone who doesn't conform to your view of how people should act and think."

"Do you have any idea who could have done this?" Parker wanted to know.

Before Mike could answer, the door opened.

"I need to talk to you. All of you," said Gideon.

~~

Parker was the last to enter the sheriff's office and closed the door behind them.

"I talked to Brandy Dreifort," reported Gideon. "Do you know her?"

"Yeah, she's a friend of my son's."

"She's a friend of Cherish's, too."

"And?"

"Well, they all knew about the skeleton."

"Who did?" the sheriff asked.

"Football team, cheerleaders, everyone."

"They all watched this man decompose like it was a game for their amusement."

"What?" Parker asked surprised.

They shook their heads in irritation, it was simply unbelievable.

"Far as I can tell, the only kids in the area who didn't know were Mike Zizzo and the L.O.D."

"That means we can let Mike go," said Parker. "He's innocent."

"Why do you care so much about him?" asked the sheriff.

Parker had to suppress the reflex to roll their eyes.

"He's innocent. Do I need another reason?"

That was only half the story. Mike reminded the young agent of Thomas, their old babysitter. He had looked after them until they were seven years old.

Parker didn't know if Thomas was a Satanist (his boyfriend Stuart wasn't), not that they would care.

"It's ridiculous."

"Well, it's impossible. It's unbelievable. But she told me all about it. The guy was a hiker or something. Probably have him listed. A missing person somewhere."

"Jason, how do you know the L.O.D. wasn't involved?" Hotch asked.

"Well, she said the pentagram and the candles, they weren't there a few months ago," the agent explained.

"Which means?"

"Someone wanted us to believe there were Satanists here. The UnSub likes to inject himself into the investigation. That's what this type of killer does. Who gave us Zizzo? Who knew all about him?"

"You're talking about Cory."

"It was convenient, wasn't it? Lucky we had a kid right in the room who could tell us where the L.O.D. was and a group of fringe kids nobody in the town would like."

"But..."

"You called us here to advise you."

"My advice would be to get in front of this before your son hurts himself or anyone else."

The sheriff braced his hands on the desk and exhaled heavily.

"You know where he is, Sheriff?"

"He went up to the Jenson house to see if your guys found anything on Cherish."

"Morgan and Spence are out there, right now," noted Parker.

At the same moment there was a knock on the door and a deputy entered the room.

"Hey, Sheriff. Did you open the gun loose?"

"No."

"Someone did. There's a revolver missing."

~~

When they got to the Jenson house, Cory was already in handcuffs.

The deputies put the Sheriffs' son in one of the cars and Parker watched as the car drove off.

When it was out of sight, Parker turned around, their eyes falling on Spencer.

The young man was standing at one of the cars talking to a deputy. He apologized himself as soon as Parker showed up, leaving the couple alone for a second.

"Hey, Derek said Cory put the gun to your head, are you okay?" Parker asked.

Spencer nodded and reassured her that everything was okay.

They stood in silence for a few moments until Parker decided to bring up a specific topic.

"Mine started two months after we started the job," Parker said.

Their boyfriend looked at them in surprise.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"My nightmares," the young agent continued. They shrugged and leaned against the police car.

"Listen, I know you don't want to talk about it, but I think–"

"I should talk about it, yeah, I'm aware," Parker was interrupted. Spencer immediately regretted it because he sounded more annoyed than he should have.

"Sorry, I just - How do you know that? Did Morgen tell you that, too?" Spencer wanted to know.

Parker raised an eyebrow and crossed their arms over their chest. Did Spencer really think that they wouldn't notice if he had nightmares almost every night?

"Spence, we live together. Of course, it's noticeable when you're not there in the morning. Or you're really tired all day."

"Yeah, I could have guessed that too," Spencer said.

"Wait–" the young man interrupted himself. "How come I didn't notice that you were having nightmares? I should have noticed."

He felt like he had failed twice– as a boyfriend and as a profiler. Like, he hadn't even noticed that Parker was having nightmares.

"It was a while ago and it wasn't as bad as yours because I talked to Hotch and Gideon about it right away," Parker said.

"Really?"

"Really," they assured. "Would I ever lie to you?"

~~~~

Playwright Eugène Ionesco said,

"Ideologies separate us, "dreams and anguish bring us together."

It was the middle of the night when the team flew home on the jet. Hotch, JJ, Elle and Parker were already asleep. Derek tried.

Not Spencer. He rather tried to stay awake.

Gideon was also still awake and decided it was the right time to talk to Spencer about his nightmares.

"Reid," the older agent addressed him.

He took out his wallet and showed Spencer a picture of a family of four.

"Deborah Louise Addison. Her husband, Tim. The kids are Amber and Keith. Eight and six. 1985, Deborah Louise was walking home from school, she was abducted. She was 13. We profiled the UnSub and we were able to locate her before he harmed her. She writes a letter to the BAU every year. She updates us on her life."

"That's nice, but..." Spencer started, but didn't know exactly what to say next.

"We all have bad dreams. Everyone on the plane. Who wouldn't? We hunt the worst of humanity, we see the depths of depravity. We dream of monsters..."

"In my dream, there's a baby in the middle of a circle and there's someone on the other side and I can't get to her before I..." the young man told of his dream. It was the first time he had told anyone about it, and the feeling of a knot that had formed in his chest from the nightmare faded a little.

"Every night I look at Deborah. Helps me. Helps me go to sleep thinking of the victims we've saved. Don't always beat the monsters to the babies, but we do enough to make the job worth it. Keep the nightmares bearable."

Gideon took the photo out of his wallet and handed it to Spencer. He looked at it for a moment, rather closed his eyes.

This time Spencer slept without having a nightmare.