The Telepath's Daughter

Brain Storm

Reid was on the verge of a trance. He was sinking deeper and deeper.

He couldn't stop staring at his newborn son. His entire being felt focused, aimed, completely enchanted by the tiny creature sleeping away its first peaceful hours in this world. Reid's eyes forgot to blink; their golden intensity filled with the vision of something he'd have never thought possible a mere five years before.

A son. I have a son. And a daughter. And a wife. I am the richest man on the planet.

He would have been content to remain plastered against the nursery window for the rest of eternity, but...

"Reid! Congratulations!" Rossi's booming voice and a hearty, affectionate slap delivered to Reid's back broke the trance.

"We saw Julio bringing Ana back to the B&B. And I saw Melinda off to school. And...here you are: a dad again." The quieter, more thoughtful greeting from Hotch eased Reid back into the present place and time.

"I...I...we..." Speech was too mundane a thing for communicating at such a moment. Reid settled for shaking his head from side to side and beaming a beatific grin.

All three men lined up at the window and gazed at the small figure in the incubator. After a few minutes, Hotch glanced at Reid.

"Are you picking anything up from him yet? Is he, you know, like you or Ana or...something entirely different, like Melinda?"

Reid's eyes never left his son. "Not sure yet. I know Mellie can talk to him already, but I don't know how clear it is; if it's impressions or fully formed thoughts." He breathed a deep, contented sigh. "All I really know right now is his aura is so strong and so...so...beautiful."

"Julio said he's premature," Rossi ventured. "Will he be okay?"

"Yeah. The doctor said he could see him having an amazing life. I'm not worried. Just...happy. I don't think I've ever felt so...so...complete before."

Silence fell as all three continued watching the small, rhythmic movements and breathing of the perfect miracle in the incubator. Then Reid shook himself, eyes widening.

"Wait. What am I doing? Mellie! I've got to go see..."

"Relax, Reid." Hotch nodded toward the nursery. "I said I saw your daughter off to school. She's fine. Better than fine. You should enjoy your son right now. 'Cause the next few months are gonna be sleepless for you and Ana. Unless you've forgotten since Mellie was born what it's like with a new baby in the house."

Reid blinked. It might have looked as though he were taking Hotch's words into consideration, but actually he'd just felt the lightest psychic brush of something sweet and oh, so familiar. Without pursuing it, he knew it was Melinda, checking on him and doing it so gently she probably thought she'd gone undetected. In the next instant, Reid saw Hotch's expression blank for a split-second, but then return to normal. Reid studied his Unit Chief for a moment more. Was that Mellie touching him? She knows she's not supposed to do that. Ever.

Reid turned back to observing his son. That breath of Melinda's presence told him she was indeed alright, just as Hotch had said. And it was also true that he should grab this moment of becoming a father for the second time and squeeze all the joy out of it that he could. The old doctor hadn't mentioned any more children in his and Ana's future the way he had at Melinda's birth.

So if this is the last time, Hotch is right: I should revel in every ounce of joy to be had in the here and now. Reid's grin grew even wider. We've got a whole set now. A daughter and a son. One of each. Life is so, so good.

The three men remained standing side by side, gazing at newly arrived Kevin.

Reid resumed losing himself in the mystery and beauty of his son's silver-blue aura.

Hotch fell back into his memories of moments missed and moments regretted.

Rossi draped an arm across Aaron's shoulders and prayed Reid would forge that special bond that was possible between fathers and sons when the stars aligned and love held them in its palm.

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"It sounds really scary."

"It's not. It's just you have to be careful all the time." Melinda perched on a tall stool, cross-legged, in front of the spacious lunchroom. After conferring with the other instructors, Miss Blandings had brought the entire student body together to listen to Melinda's views of the outside world.

The teacher reasoned that it would be enlightening to both the gifted and non-gifted to hear something of how an ESP-er survived when concealing one's talents was not only advisable, but mandatory. Miss Blandings and the other gifted teachers were keeping close tabs on their students' emotions. This was supposed to be a learning experience, not the stuff of nightmares. Some of the youngest children were teetering on the brink of fear, imagining a fugitive existence of endless running and hiding.

The teachers had cautioned everyone to use verbal communication. It might be slower and less accurate when it came to conveying images, but not everyone had telepathic abilities. Then, too, Melinda Reid was an unknown variable when it came to predicting the extent and power of her gifts. The instructors who could sense such things felt an unaccustomed wariness around this small girl. She was too young to understand the harm that could be inflicted on delicate psyches. Or so they thought.

"But what happens if you're not careful? What happens? What do they do to you?"

"Nothing. I mean, not really...I mean..." Melinda started to answer, but her voice faded out.

Memories flashed in coruscating neon across her mind...from a time before she'd known about concealing her talents.

From a time before she'd mastered speech.

From a time when there had been danger.

When there had been an awful person who had hurt Mommy and who had nothing but contempt for Beautiful Him.

It all hovered on the edges of consciousness. She caught the concerned glances of the gifted teachers. They could tell something dark and intensely private was lurking in the depths of Melinda's mind. She took a breath and mastered the images. She never wanted to discuss them with anyone, but more and more since coming to this odd sanctuary, she wondered if that had something to do with the old doctor who had moved through her thoughts and dreams like an ocean wave for as long as she could recall. Had he set some sort of compulsion in her? Some sort of warning?

"What do they doooo, if they find you?" An edge of horror outlined the words from one of the youngest students. Glances were exchanged among the ESP-er teachers. They tacitly agreed that this time it was an almost pleasurable kind of horror. Like watching a scary movie or reading a scary story, rather than feeling you were in actual danger.

Despite her efforts to ignore the bright, cognitive flashes warning her that something best left untold was pushing its way forward, Melinda's remarkable mind couldn't help sorting through them, letting them coalesce into patterns. Her mind operated on multiple levels as effortlessly as did her father's. Had Reid been monitoring his daughter's thoughts in their deepest strata, he would have been proud of the sharpness, the clarity. And then, he would have been frightened.

But no one was tracking Melinda's deepest mental workings, so, unimpeded, the patterns formed.

Maybe the graylings had triggered something. Or maybe it was the fawn who'd found some kinship in her. Or the bird whose mind she'd piloted. As Melinda held court before assorted students and teachers, the instinctive feel of how to rearrange...how to program...someone else's brain began to come back to her. The innate knowledge that, once upon a time, had allowed her to repair Hotch. And to destroy Carol Bescardi.

The old doctor had been amazed and concerned at the time. He'd looked deep and had decided her ability was like a fawn's spots; a protective feature that she would soon outgrow. As a precaution in the meantime, he'd installed the warnings and barriers that he believed would see Melinda through until the mind-altering things she could do dissipated with age.

He was wrong.

In Melinda's brain the pieces assembled.