A/N: Soooo, out of public demand… Here it is – a sequel for 'Species'. (grins) It feels sort of cool to continue something for change.

You can't even imagine how baffled and flattered I am by all the love you gave to the prequel. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy this one just as much. Your love and dedication is what gave this story the necessary push. I truly hope that you'll find this worth all the waiting!

WARNINGS: WEIRD themes, A KIND OF MPREG with a huge twist, language, some gore… (blinks) What? Why's everyone running?

DISCLAIMER: The day I own something of 'CM' or make any profit of these things, you'll see a cow flying. Sad but true. (pouts)

Awkay… I already postponed this for a day because I was a bit insecure, but now it's TIME. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy this first chapter!

Species 2 – The Second Contact

The Worst Nightmare

Dr. Spencer Reid was no stranger to nightmares. He faced such every time he went to work. He had nightmares every single night, without exceptions. It wasn't once or even twice his very life had been a nightmare.

That night, six and a half months after the thing had been forcefully ripped out of him – stolen from him – he heard chirping once again. It came to him just when he'd managed to convince himself that it was just a shadow in his past, of which only brutal scars stood as a reminder. It found him, as easily as if it'd never faded away. It came, and filled him with longing that didn't make any sense to him.

People weren't supposed to miss monsters.

He woke up covered in cold sweat, panting as though he'd been suffocating. His body shook even worse than it did during those unnaturally long, painful and humiliating hours of withdrawal. It took a moment before he realized that the moisture on his cheeks wasn't sweat, after all.

In an instant his eyes darted around, searching, hoping. There was nothing apart from shadows and distant noises of traffic. The sounds of his heart and bloodstream filled his ears, deafening him. Only the quakes of his body told him that he was sobbing.

He couldn't keep it inside any longer. Much faster than his body would've been prepared for he sprinted to the hotel room's bathroom. He barely made it there before he threw up bad coffee and one apple, which was pretty much all he'd managed to consume that day. Unleashing a tiny whimper he forced himself up after what felt like a full day. Barely aware of what he was doing he made his way to the sink and began washing his hands.

What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he get over that nightmare already? Why was that sound back? Was he really going crazy this time?

He shivered slightly from startle when there was a knock on the room's door. He didn't quite manage to calm down even after hearing Derek Morgan's voice. "Kid, I heard you screaming. Are you okay?"

A suffocated sob rocked his whole much too slim frame. No. "Y-Yeah. I just…" He swallowed, not recognizing the unpleasant taste swirling on his tongue. "I need sleep." He would've been willing to do just about anything for a good night's sleep.

It wasn't until then he became aware of the pain and couldn't suppress the yelp that crawled up his throat. Looking down he shivered once more. His hands were unhealthily red, nearly burned, and covered by what looked like a million deep scratches. He swallowed thickly, his trembling from before intensifying.

How… hot was the water? What the hell had he been doing, anyway? His hands still tingled, like there'd been something underneath the violated skin that didn't belong there.

"Okay, that's it. Reid, if you don't let me in right now I'm going to force myself in. Is that really what you want?"

No, it wasn't. Causing a scene was the last thing Spencer wanted. That was the only thing driving him towards the door. He opened with sheer reluctance, to meet Derek's throughoutly worried face. "Kid?" the man began. "What…?" And then the older agent saw his hands. The man's eyes widened. "Holy…!" Derek looked right into his eyes, visibly terrified and desperate for answers. "Reid, what the hell is going on?"

For months Spencer had walked around lying – to Aaron Hotchner, to his doctor, to the therapist he'd been forced to see before being allowed back on duty, to his BAU-family… But that night, looking at Derek… He just couldn't find the strength. He was too fucking tired.

Spencer didn't even care if there were tears rolling down his cheeks. There was no pride in him anymore. His voice was barely audible. "I… I'm not okay, Morgan."

During his rather short life Spencer had never drank enough to actually pass out and lose his memory. This time he succeeded without a single drop of alcohol. Because since that absolutely horrifying admittance of weakness he couldn't remember anything until he opened his eyes to meet the light of a new day.

Somewhere in the distance – or perhaps only a step away – Derek was talking in a hushed tone. " …pretty bad, Hotch. I don't know…" There was a brief pause. "I think he's finally waking up. I'll call you later." A sigh could be heard. "I will. You solve that case so we can finally go home."

Slowly and with pain he hadn't expected Spencer shifted a little bit, just enough to see Derek sitting on the opposite edge of the bed. The man was looking at him with a frown of worry, some fear visible in his dark eyes. "So you're finally back in the land of the living."

Spencer frowned, alarm tingling in his veins. Adrenaline spun out of control even though there was no visible threat, showing clearly just how over stressed his body was. He licked his lips. "How… long was a I asleep?"

Derek shook his head and sighed, obviously wondering how to answer. "You… weren't technically asleep. One moment you were telling me how you heard that chirping again, and then you… collapsed, I guess. You weren't unconscious but I couldn't wake you up, either – you must've been horribly exhausted. I thought I'd have to call a doctor." His best friend shivered slightly, which wasn't something to be seen often. Obviously Spencer wasn't the only one suffering from a adrenaline storm. "You scared the shit out of me, kid. Don't ever do it again."

Spencer looked away, feeling embarrassed, confused and scared. "I'm sorry. I'm… fine, now." Right? His hands, still raw from the night before, hurt when he wrapped his arms around himself and held on tight. Like someone terrified of falling down. "What time is it?" Simple, easy, harmless.

"Two o'clock in the afternoon." It was easy to sense that Derek relaxed slowly, realizing that Spencer was fully aware and in control over himself once more. The man's voice didn't sound quite as strained anymore. "The others are going after that thought you voiced yesterday, on the words engraved to the victims. They've got a suspect. Trevor Measlow, a teacher."

Spencer swallowed, unsure of how to feel. Usually he was glad to have a case wrapped up, but now… "So… We're going home soon."

Derek nodded. "Yeah."

The silence hung thickly between and around them, almost heavily enough to suffocate. In the end it was Spencer's mouth that spoke, although he couldn't remember the words forming even in his head. "How much did you tell Hotch?" Because in truth, even the thought of someone else knowing of the previous night's humiliating events…

"Only what he needs to know, as your supervisor." Derek's eyes softened slightly. He could see the man thinking of touching him and deciding otherwise. "Don't worry, kid. I've got your back."

For the first time in who knows how long Spencer gave a true, honest smile. A tiny one but still. "Yeah, I know." He looked directly at his friend before adding pointedly, with a lot of weight. "Thank you."

Derek simply nodded. It was the older agent's turn to break the silence that followed. "Look, Reid… I don't want to make you feel threatened, okay? I don't want to scare you. But… I think you should see that therapist of yours again. Or at least talk to me before you break down completely again." The man went on quickly, not wanting to give him the chance to panic. "Because… Last night, I really saw what your life is like right now. And it breaks my heart. You deserve hell a lot better."

Those words seeped into the core of Spencer like acid. He wiped his eyes although they didn't feel particularly moist, never even noticing how badly his hand trembled. "I… I don't want to be scared of going home anymore." His throat felt raspy, tight and pained. Like he'd been screaming for ages. "I just wish that I didn't feel like I'm… going crazy anymore. That this would finally be over."

Derek nodded slowly, emitting a most likely subconscious sigh. "I know. And I'm going to help you with getting there."

Spencer blinked twice, looking at the man with genuine surprise and confusion. "Why?" He'd tossed the man to the other side of a street. During the darkest of hours he'd spoken – shouted – things that he'd never, ever forgive himself. He'd pushed Derek and the rest of the team as far away as he could, shutting himself into a tiny, lonely bubble. Why the hell was Derek still trying when he'd showed so clearly that he wasn't worth it?

Derek swatted his head gently with a small smile. "For a genius you can be pretty damn stupid sometimes."

The quiet that floated was soothing, comfortable. And then Spencer's stomach growled loudly, demanding attention. They both emitted a much needed laugh.

Derek put a hand to his shoulder, tensing up only slightly when he shuddered with startle at the unexpected physical contact. "C'mon, pretty boy. Garcia gave me a task to get some meat on your bones while we're on this case. She's gonna kill me if you return malnourished."

The corners of Spencer's lips twitched. "I guess we can't have that, huh?"

As Spencer had suspected the case was wrapped up that day. Spencer was actually there, watching as Trevor Measlow was cuffed and fighting furiously to ignore the looks of worry his team darted towards him. He'd caused them enough worry already. Why couldn't they just pretend that everything was alright for a while?

Evening had already darkened while the team sat in the jet on their way home. Almot everyone else was asleep, exhausted by the six days long assignment, but Spencer didn't dare to allow himself such luxury. The thought of having one of his nightmares in front of the whole team didn't sound like a very appealing idea, not when he was fighting with tooth and nail to make them believe that he was fine. Though to be honest he had a feeling that they were far too experienced and observant to believe him.

Despite the best of efforts he was just about to drift off until he heard steps. His eyelids were so heavy that he didn't manage to pry them open until someone already sat beside him. A tiny shiver crossed his body when he found Aaron Hotchner.

So now they'd have the conversation he'd been dreading.

There was a hint of worry along with guilt in Aaron's eyes. For a moment all those times the unit chief hadn't been there when he would've needed help rushed in the older agent's eyes. Although Spencer had never blamed him the man hadn't been able to forgive himself yet. The man waited for a good while before speaking. "Are you feeling any better now?"

Spencer nodded, trying to hide his still damaged hands. A cyclone of emotions spun inside him. "Yeah." He cleared his throat and licked his lips, desperately trying to sort out the mess inside his head. "I'm… sorry. The case…"

"… was solved before Measlow killed again." Aaron sighed. "But… I can't just let something like this slide. An agent of mine broke down completely."

Under different circumstances, if he'd felt a little bit better, Spencer might've tried to deny everything. As it was, though, he was sick of the exhausting lying game. So he nodded, trying to shrink into himself. He was already treated like a baby enough. Something like this was the last thing he wanted.

"Reid." Aaron's eyes were hard, almost desperate. "I can see that you need help. If…"

Spencer nodded again, quickly this time. The faster this was all wrapped up the better. "I know." He then frowned, spotting something on the other man's face. "But it looks like there's something else you want to talk to me about."

Aaron hesitated, which was so unusual that it scared him. When the man finally spoke his voice sounded unfamiliar. "Garcia… was contacted by a friend of hers a while back. Several homeless men have gone missing in Quantico. Most of them have already turned up dead."

Spencer nodded slowly, trying to put together how this piece of information fit together with anything. "So… it's a new case?"

Aaron shook his head. "Technically, no." The man took a deep breath, looking at him with evaluating eyes. "The police… suspects that there's something bizarre going on. Something they can't quite explain."

Spencer blinked twice, fully awake for the first time in days. His whole body was tingling with electricity. "Oh."

"Garcia wanted to tell you herself, but I told her that I'd do it." Aaron swallowed loudly. "Reid… Most of those men were… pregnant, or at least carrying something inside them. Just… like you were." His hearing changed. The unit chief's following words seemed to come from a whole another dimension and his head spun wildly. "It looks like they were assaulted by the same thing that attacked you. It's back."

Almost right below the jet was a tiny laboratory most people didn't even know existed. There, in the very heart of the building, security guard Eric Holland tried not to fall asleep while watching TV. He took a glance towards his wrist watch and groaned.

Four more hours until the night guard would arrive. Until then he was stuck in the room that smelled far too much like a hospital to his liking. Stuck with the thing.

When the screen showed the BAU-team and local police arresting Trevor Measlow there was sharp, chilling scratching behind him. Arching an eyebrow he turned to look at the creature trapped to its tiny cage. There was a look of despair on its face. If he hadn't known better he would've said that he saw longing and tears.

Eric snorted, folding his arms. "What? Are you that excited about the FBI? Trust me, they're not that special." He rolled his eyes, refocusing on the TV. "A typical woman."

He growled and tried to ignore the sounds when the thing kept scratching and banging, screaming as loudly as it possibly could. It was obviously more than eager to get out of its prison. Eric thought about fetching some sedatives but decided against it. It was too much trouble over something so insignificant. Besides, what was the worst the thing could do?

Oh, how foolish a man can be.

At first he heard a scream, such that fairly certainly blew up his eardrums. He screamed, falling from the chair to his knees with his hands pressed firmly to his ears. Quite faintly he heard the breaking glass, the new howl.

And quite soon he never heard anything ever again.

TBC, OR NOT?

A/N: That thing sure wants to get to Reid, doesn't it? (shudders) We'll see just what comes out of all this.

Soooo… How was that for a startout? Good, bad, mediacore? PLEASE, let me hear your thoughts! It'd mean the world to me. (gives puppy's eyes)

Thank you so much for reading this far! I really hope that I'll see ya guys again later.

Peace out!

Deathangle23: (I don't know if you'll find this, but I'll try anyhow.)

I did? Woah! (grins)

Poor thing, no? It clearly wants to be with Spencer with all its heart. We'll see just what happens to those two in this sequel.

I really hope you'll be staying tuned and keep enjoying the ride!