This is going to be my first try at an AU story (Wish me luck)! :D

In this story, Morgan and Reid aren't with the FBI; they're both minors enrolled in the Witness Protection Program. This story is about the whole team, but focuses on Morgan and Reid especially. Morgan's fifteen, Reid's ten, and both of them are from their respective home towns. This also takes place in the present day; Morgan has an iPod. And, Reid was living with his father rather than his mother; his mom is placed in Bennington when he's just a kid. I'll explain that in a future chapter if enough people want me to continue.

Again, this is an AU fic; though the rest of the team is around, they are not part of the BAU (Except for Rossi and Prentiss. Gideon too, but he will have quit after Boston; I'll explain that in a later update if people want me to continue)

I don't own Criminal Minds!

"Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shootin' stars/ I could really us a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now" ~Hayley Williams, "Airplanes"

Fifteen-year-old Derek Morgan wasn't one for sitting still. On any other given day, he would be out in his neighborhood, running with his friends, or playing football at the Community Center, under the watchful eye of his "mentor" Carl Buford.

Today, Derek was glad he wasn't anywhere near the Community Center.

Today, he was glad to be sitting in the Chicago O'Hare Airport, waiting for an airplane that would take him out of Chicago, away from Buford, away from the events of three nights ago

The images from last night were still cemented in his mind. He didn't want to think about it, but every time he closed his eyes, the images were there. And they terrified him, made him feel sick. He still remembered how, at the police station, they had told him it wasn't his fault. There was nothing he could have done for the kid... But still.

Derek ran his fingers through his hair and looked up at the woman next to him. Officer Elle Greenaway was supposed to be watching him until the Social Worker arrived. He had spent the last three nights at the police station; the first night he had drifted to sleep while waiting for his mom to get him; she had been sitting next to him when he woke up the next day. The two days after that had been because he'd been afraid to go home, despite the fact that Buford was in jail and would never see the light of day as a free man until Derek was in his 30s,' maybe never. But there had been people who were friends of Buford, who had threatened him; it was after his family's apart had caught fire that the US Marshalls had been called in.

Now, Derek was going to Virginia. Washington, DC, if he was going to give an exact location. They were just waiting for…

"There she is," Officer Greenaway said, standing up. Derek followed suit as a slim, blonde woman with a round, kind face walked briskly toward them.

"Hello, I'm Ashley Seaver, the Social Worker." She began. "You must be Officer Elle Greenaway and Derek Morgan?"

Greenaway nodded. "You said you had another child you were chaperoning?"

Seaver nodded. "I was in Las Vegas when I got the call about Derek's case; they thought it would be best if I chaperoned them both, since they are both going to Virginia. That was why I booked a flight that had a layover in Chicago instead of flying straight to JFK International."

"I understand," Greenaway replied before glancing around. "Where's your other charge?"

"Sleeping," Seaver said. "I don't think that we were followed from Nevada, but I want to get back to the plane as fast as possible." She then turned to Derek. "Are you ready to go?" She asked.

Derek wanted so badly to pretend that he hadn't heard her; for the past three days, everyone had treated him like he was ten years younger than he was, but he knew that they were just trying to make him comfortable. They said that he had suffered a trauma.

Yeah, he had. Just more than they realized.

With a hurried "Take care, Derek," to him and a parting nod to Seaver, Officer Greenaway stalked off, no doubt to return to her beat cop duties; Derek hoped that she would nab Rodney, because he needed to be taught a lesson after looking down Des' blouse last week.

Derek grabbed his backpack (With two clean tee shirts, socks and boxers, a pair of jeans and an extra pair of tennis shoes, as well as the copy of Slaughterhouse Five Officer Greenaway had let him buy at the airport bookstore, his iPod, a pack of gum, two comic books, the latest Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition, three chocolate bars and a bag of Cheetos from the Chicago PD vending machines, last year's school yearbook, a photo album with pictures of his family and a framed picture of his father in his uniform), adjusted his Chicago Bears baseball cap, tweaked the zipper on his jacket and followed Seaver across the concourse toward the terminal.

"Do you want anything to eat?" she asked, motioning toward the restaurants and carts in the concourse. Derek thought for a moment before nodding, and they stopped at a Subway station where Derek got a six-inch Meatball Marinara, and Seaver got a six-inch Veggie Delight and a six-inch Turkey. Derek assumed that one of them was for the other person he was travelling with, watching as she placed the sandwich into her carryon.

Derek was halfway through his sub when they reached the terminal, where Seaver showed the gate attendant her boarding pass and passport before she walked through. Derek did the same thing and was following Seaver onto the plane a minute later.

They walked down the cramped aisle, passing the business men and women who were stowing briefcases and laptops while they checked the status of their meetings and chatted with clients before takeoff and entering the economy class. They passed families with noisy kids; Derek felt a pang in his chest when they passed a little boy and his father watching the luggage being loaded into the plane. They passed people who were going to visit relatives or vacation on the east coast; Derek swore he saw what appeared to be a honeymooning couple sitting by the emergency exit, sharing a kiss. Derek made a face as they passed, even though he knew he was far too old for that sort of thing. When they finally reached their seats, Morgan stopped and stared.

Curled up next to the window was a kid about five years younger than him. He was short and skinny, almost skeletal thin in Derek's opinion. His curly brown hair was messy from tossing and turning, and he was clutching a small homemade teddy bear in his tiny hands. His clothes consisted of a sweater-vest, a white shirt, corduroy pants, Converse and… were those mis-matched socks?

Seaver gently urged Derek into the middle seat, where he sat watching the kid until the beeping sound of the intercom sounded as the pilot began to announce protocol for the flight. The kid jolted awake, his eyes widened as he looked around the plane with… Horror? Worry? Derek felt his heart go out to the kid; he'd always had a soft spot for the younger kids at the Center; he knew how it felt to be the man of the house, to have to always worry about his sisters and mother.

"Spencer," Seaver reached over toward the younger boy, placing a soothing hand on his shoulders. "Spencer, it's alright. He's not going to hurt you. He's not here, remember?"

Spencer nodded, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind his ear before looking at Derek with confusion.

"Spencer, this is Derek Morgan," Seaver introduced calmly. "Derek, this is Spencer Reid."

"Hey," Derek whispered, holding out his hand; tentatively, the younger boy took it, staring blearily into Derek's eyes.

"Hey," he whispered back. A moment later Seaver gave the younger boy his sub, the Veggie Delight. In response, the kid thanked her before opening it and taking small bites, only eating about half the sub, if that. Derek watched him from behind his book, thinking.

Poor kid must've had it worse than I did, he reasoned before he took out his iPod, gum and Slaughterhouse Five, wondering what the poor kid next to him had witnessed that would have put him in this situation. Or was he like Derek, a Federal witness to a crime where the perp had been put away and was just waiting for trial, so the star witness was being put in a safe place until the day of the court appearance. Faintly, Derek heard the sound of the plane's engines starting up; they would be departing soon.

"Chewing gum is very beneficial for your health," a voice quipped suddenly. Derek turned to see Spencer staring at him.

"That so?" he asked.

Spencer nodded. "It relieves stress, improves memory and can alleviate air pressure in a person's ears when a plane is either ascending or descending."

Derek held up the container. "You can have some if you want," he said. "It's Peppermint, but it's good."

By the time the plane was rolling down the runway, picking up speed as it prepared to take flight, the two boys sat in their seats, lazily watching the runway stream past until the plane became airborne; Derek watched the houses and other building beneath them become smaller and smaller, and he found himself wondering if he would ever go back. After they had reached

Meanwhile, Spencer had curled up into a ball, his eyes fixed on Derek; there was something of a cross between an owl and a scared, hurt puppy in the depths of the child's eyes. Derek watched the kid, smiling as he curled in on himself.

"So," he began, wanting to make conversation with his travel partner. "What was with the gum statistics? Are you a genius or something?"

By now that had reached cruising altitude, the two boys had stuffed their gum into their napkins, and Seaver ordered their complementary drinks.

"I don't think that intelligence can be quantified accurately, but I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute." The kid shifted, his head laying on the window ledge.

"…So you're a genius?"

Spencer blinked. "If you accept society's quantification of my intelligence, then yes, you can say I'm a genius. Although I prefer the term 'exceptionally bright' to 'genius.' It makes me seem… approachable."

Derek raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And how old are you, eight?"

"Ten, actually." The boy yawned, finally losing his battle with the Sandman and indicating to Derek that the conversation was over.

Derek stuffed his earphones into his ears, chuckling as he watched the kid. But the smile died on his face when he saw the boy twitch, muttering something before falling still. For the first time, Derek saw the dark circles under his eyes, the pale skin, and the worry lines on the child's forehead. He returned to his book, his thoughts circling, and the song on his iPod speaking of making wishes from airplanes.

A/N: Let me know if you want me to continue! :D

*~N_CBAU~*