Disclaimer: "I think you're ready…"

"Really??!"

"Yes"

"Well than hand them over!"

"I would but…"

"But what?"

"They aren't ready for you…"

"Damn! I can't believe I lost them again!"

Author's Note: Hey ya'll this is my first fanfic, my friend told me that I should try it out! So I like this story plot a lot and I hope that you will all like it too. Posting might be a little slow at first because this is all new but I promise it will get better!

Intro

The small golden blonde slowly and reluctantly opened her eyes and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. The ten year old felt unexpected waves of sadness rush through her as she realized it was not the familiar bright pink of her bedroom but the stark white, unnaturally clean, ceiling of the hospital in Los Angeles. The slim blonde sat up and groaned as she felt her broken ribs crack painfully; the bruises on her stomach were not helping much either.

The girl maneuvered herself so that her back was resting against the head board of the bed and stared around the room she had been placed in. It was cold and unfeeling, missing the comforting traits of her bedroom at her Aunt's house.

There was no teddy bear resting next to her on the bedside table, just a vase of flowers that seemed close to meeting their end. There was no Kelly Clarkson poster on the wall, just a window with ugly drapes pulled over it. The blonde closed her eyes and tired with all her might to change the room; to bring it back to the way it was before the accident, but when she opened her eyes again she almost cried out in dismay to find the white room of the hospital once again. Her hear grew colder and more unfeeling like the room every second she looked at it.

She reached a shaking hand out to grab the remote laying next to the dying flowers on her bedside table, only half caring what was on the actual television. She turned it on and began to flip through the thousands of channels, she had done this every single morning since she had been in the hospital. It was like a never ending cycle. In fact, she thought to herself, the next phrase of the cycle should happen in 3, 2, 1…

"Spencer, my baby!"

"Hey Auntie Joan," the blonde sighed, making no attempt to even sit up straighter in her bed. Her aunt hurried quickly over to her and threw her arms around Spencer, the clueless woman was only delaying the blonde's ribs from healing a little bit more, but Spencer made no cry of pain. She appreciated every little bit of love that she could get. She wondered if he loved her…

"How are you feeling today love?" the late Paula's sister asked.

"Just friggin' great Auntie Joan! I have been in this ugly room for like three months now, recovering from my near death experience that was caused, if I may place the blame, by your crazy, perverted boyfriend, but no everything is just peachy…"

Spencer didn't really say this, of course. No she was much to nice, but God knows she thought it, God knows she wanted to say it with every fiber of her being. Instead she just nodded her head and said tiredly, "I am okay Auntie Joan. I am definitely getting better every day."

Her foolish –naïve- Aunt believed her young niece's lie and nodded her head a broad smile stretching across her face, "Well that is just super honey!" she said in her normal voice.

And here it comes, her aunt did this every time she visited, and she still hadn't realized that it didn't mean a single thing to Spencer.

"I am soo sorry that this happened to you Spence…," the older woman said in a small voice.

"I know you are Joan…it really wasn't your fault," Spencer said turning her head to stare out of the window only to remember that she couldn't because of those very ugly grey drapes.

"Oh, it partially is sweetie," the woman said twiddling her thumbs, "I should have realized that that man was off of his rocker…," the older blonde said and glanced down at her nervously shuffling feet.

"But you didn't. So there is really no freaking reason for you to keep bringing it up painfully like this, it is over, it is done, and there is absolutely nothing you can do to change it."

Once again, the quiet blonde kept her real thoughts to herself and said, "It's okay, really it is."

Spencer hadn't been really truthful about anything for months and rarely spoke her mind anymore. The young Carlin used to be caring and would help anything from an abandoned kitten, to the old lady at her church who had trouble walking. Even after her parents' death Spencer hadn't held a grudge against anyone. She had even looked her parents' killer in the eye and had told him sincerely that she forgave him.

She would never forget the look on his face; the appreciation in his sparkling eyes as the tears ran fast down his face. The grown man was brought to his knees by this ten year old boy. He kept muttering over and over his thanks.

But after this, she wasn't putting her feelings out there anymore, no this was it. She was done. To many bad things had happened to her for her to care anymore.

"Spencer?"

The blonde looked up and realized that she had been staring at the ugly curtains for way to long, "sorry…," the ten year old mumbled her apology not really meaning it, " I just have a headache that won't go away is all…"

Her Aunt looked at her curiously before saying, "Okay. I will have one of the nurses bring you some aspirin on my way out. Alright honey, I will see you later baby girl, feel better."

"Thanks Auntie Joan."

The woman nodded and walked out of the depressing room, and to Spencer's amazement and satisfaction, took some of the depression with her.

Thanks a bunch for reading! Keep it touch…