The Shadows We Dance With

Ch9: Ghosts of the Past

The morning sun filtered through the large windows of the hotel lobby, casting a warm glow over the polished floors and plush furniture. The rest of the team was already gathered, exchanging quiet conversation over complimentary coffee and breakfast. Garcia was tapping away at her laptop, the soft clicks of her nails on the keyboard a familiar background noise. Prentiss and JJ were discussing the plan for the day, while Morgan leaned against a nearby column, casually scanning the room.

The elevator dinged, drawing their attention as the doors slid open to reveal Spencer Reid, the last to join them. He stepped out, his posture tense, eyes shadowed by the sleepless night he'd endured. The unease from the previous evening clung to him like a second skin, amplifying as he recalled the figure he thought he'd seen—no, swore he'd seen—in the hotel bar.

Morgan's sharp eyes caught the shift in Reid's demeanor immediately. "Pretty Boy, you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Reid forced a smile, brushing off the question as he usually did. "I'm fine, Morgan. Just didn't sleep well."

Morgan wasn't buying it. "C'mon, man, something's up. You've been off since last night. What's going on?"

The concern in Morgan's voice only seemed to push Spencer further into the tight coil of anxiety that had been winding inside him. "I said I'm fine," Reid snapped, sharper than he intended. The words came out harsher, more defensive, than usual. He immediately regretted it but didn't apologize. Instead, he turned on his heel and strode past the complimentary breakfast spread, heading straight for the waiting SUV outside.

The rest of the team exchanged worried glances, Morgan's expression a mix of confusion and hurt. It wasn't like Reid to snap like that, especially not at him. JJ gave Morgan a small, sympathetic smile before they all gathered their things and followed Reid to the car, the once warm and friendly atmosphere now tinged with tension.

The ride to the precinct was uncomfortably silent. The only sound was the rhythmic clicking of Garcia's nails on her keyboard as she continued her deep dive into the Las Vegas clubs connected to the case. Hotch sat in the front passenger seat, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, occasionally glancing in the rearview mirror to check on his team. He could feel the unease radiating from Spencer, and it concerned him more than he let on.

When they arrived at the station, the team filed out of the SUV, the weight of the previous night's unresolved emotions hanging over them. The atmosphere inside the station was buzzing with the usual early morning activity. Chief Robert Hayes was waiting for them near the entrance, a weary but determined look on his face. He had left the station before the team had returned the night before, so this was his first time meeting the rest of the group.

"Good morning, Chief Hayes," Hotch greeted him with a firm handshake.

"Morning, Agent Hotchner," Hayes replied, his gaze sweeping over the rest of the team as they introduced themselves one by one. Rossi, Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia all shook his hand in turn. Spencer was the last to approach, but instead of extending his hand, he simply offered a brief wave, his expression distant.

Chief Hayes looked at Spencer, a flicker of recognition sparking in his eyes. He was sure he knew this young man from somewhere, but the memory eluded him. There was something oddly familiar about him, but Hayes couldn't quite place it. Deciding to brush it off as a strange sense of déjà vu, he pushed the thought aside for now.

"Let's get to work," Hotch said, steering the conversation back to the case. The team moved to the room they'd set up the day before, photos of the victims and other evidence still pinned to the whiteboard. The familiar surroundings should have brought some comfort, but the tension from the car ride lingered. Hotch stayed behind to speak to Chief Hayes  "You have an escaped prisoner and didn't think to tell me and my team?"