A/N: Awkay… It looks like supernatural is my new ground to explore. That's why I was super excited that this story ended up as one of the top 2 rated in my 'CM' poll. (beams) We'll see what morphs out of this idea…

WARNINGS: rather graphic description of dead people (hence the rating), violence, death, supernatural elements (aka ghosts), language… (blinks) Woah, now THAT's a list! Anyone out there…?

AND TO THOSE WONDERING… Nope, there won't be pairings in this fic. (sighs) I know that some of you are disappointed by that, but no worries. I'll shoot out romance fics, too. (winks and smirks)

DISCLAIMER: See a pig fly? Yeah, me neither. When you do you KNOW that I own something of 'CM'. (sighs)

Awkay… Because I've gotta get going before I change my mind let's ROCK. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy this odd lil' piece!

The Ghost Whisperer

Prologue

Dr. Spencer Reid was an expert in finding trouble. Or perhaps it was the trouble that found him. That day of late January was no exception.

Somehow he'd known to expect that Murphy was out to get him as soon as the team was handed a case in Alaska. Not only was it inhumanly cold to a man who grew up in the heat of Nevada, enough so to make him develop a cold in two days. Their UnSub was also far too unbalanced for his moves to be predicted. They had barely any clues until the UnSub sent a plea for help to the police station.

'Please stop me!'

Below those desperate words were numbers. Coordinates, a date and time. Obviously the man wanted to arrange a meeting. The team could only hope that they weren't making a mistake with accepting the chilling invitation.

Coughing and swallowing against the horrible taste it brought into his mouth Spencer reached out towards his earpiece, his other hand gripping a tighter hold of his gun. The snow covered landscape around him was nearly completely dark, which didn't ease his nerves at all. "Not a trace here", he whispered, not getting rid of the feeling that he was being watched. The cliffs and stones everywhere around him cast shadows that seemed to reach out towards him. "I'm starting to think that we don't have the right location, after all."

Aaron Hotchner sounded nervous, which did nothing to ease his mind. "Let's keep looking for a little while longer. We may still find Theresa Inges alive if…"

Spencer couldn't hear anything anymore. For at that very moment he got the confirmation that he most definitely wasn't alone. His eyes grew to a nearly impossible size.

There, in the middle of a forest, was a tiny, frozen pond. Almost directly in the middle of it, bathing in the ominous light of a full moon, stood a boy who could barely be called a man. Most likely self cut, unwashed brown hair, huge and terrified blue eyes. The tall and pale, unhealthily thin youth was trembling. Spencer couldn't understand what urged the young man outside in just a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt. He didn't even see a pair of shoes. Spencer himself was trembling from cold although he was wearing a winter jacket. Seeing him the boy smiled, relief flashing momentarily in his eyes. "I knew you'd come."

Spencer nodded slowly, approaching the pond with caution. "You… invited my team here."

Tears were running down the boy's cheeks. He was shaking so badly that Spencer was amazed he could still stand. "I… I need you to take it out of me. Please…! Take it away. I can't… I can't take it anymore!"

Spencer knew full well that he was most likely making a huge mistake. But this boy… If there was even the slightest chance of saving him and Theresa Inges… "Okay… I'll try to help you, alright? Calm down." He took several steps forward, already reaching the edge of the ice. "What's your name?"

Tears still leaked but the panic had disappeared. Instead Spencer saw something that made chills run through him. The boy's eyes… They looked almost dead. That expression was a mask of defeat. "Kurt."

Spencer nodded once more, taking a step to the ice. "I'm Spencer." The thin layer of snow on the ice made it treacherous. It was slippery and he didn't have the slightest idea of what was underneath him. "Okay, Kurt. I'm going to walk over to you. Then we'll walk away from here together and get you all the help you need. Is that alright with you?"

Kurt sobbed even more loudly than before, shaking his head furiously. "You don't understand! You don't fucking understand!" The boy's voice was high pitched, frantic. Full of unspeakable terror. "I need you to make them go away! You have to make them go away!"

Spencer swallowed thickly, freezing to the spot. He could've sworn that he heard a chilling crackling sound underneath his feet. "How… can they be chased away?" All of a sudden running away sounded like a very appealing option.

Kurt smiled through his tears. "We need to die and come back."

Spencer didn't have the time to move a muscle. Kurt kicked the ice, with all the might there was in his seemingly frail body. The crackling sound from before turned into a thunder. And a second later there was no solid ground under Spencer's feet anymore.

Even with the best of wills he couldn't tell if the scream came through his ear piece or from right behind him. "REID!"

The pitch black, ice cold water swallowed Spencer greedily. His heavy clothes and chunks of ice pulled him down despite all his struggles. He panicked, managing to breathe in frosty water. He couldn't tell if he was awake or unconscious, dead or alive. Everything was black.

Was this… what Emily's death experience was like?

And then, as suddenly as they'd appeared, the darkness and cold were gone. Everything exploded into oddly familiar white. Warmth wrapped around him like a blanket, forming a protective cocoon around him. Not all that far away blurry figures were waiting for him. Feeling this strangest pull he began to approach them.

However, as he walked he heard voices. "Reid, c'mon…! Don't do this to me!"

"1… 2… 3… Kid, you need to fight with me, damnit!" His steps slowed down.

"Please…!" There was a pull, such a part of him found familiar.

"We're losing him…!"

And then, all of a sudden, all the comfort was gone. He was tossed back into the same, brutal cold he'd just left. There were hands working on him, unwanted touches. Panic shot through Spencer, making his insides twist painfully. His chest was burning with unimaginable searing pain, like there'd been an elephant sitting on his ribcage.

What was going on? Where was he? Was this hell?

"… shit!…" That voice… He couldn't recognize it. "I thought that we'd be able to save at least the other one."

Save… the other one…?

Was he… dead, after all?

There was a heavy, worn sigh. "Time of death…"

"Nick, wait! Wait! Oh my sweet…!" There were fingers on his neck. Panicked, Spencer unleashed a rather pitiable groan and attempted to lift his hand to swat the unwanted touch away. Did… his hand move, at all…? "Jesus Christ! This one's still alive! He's alive!"

"Holy…!" the other man gasped. "We've gotta get him to a hospital, now!"

There was a great deal of commotion. Spencer felt himself being elevated. Someone was running, perhaps more than just one person. Sobbing, shouting…

"I'm riding with him." That voice was without a doubt Derek Morgan's. It was heavy and loaded with concealed emotions. "Don't waste time arguing with me."

Spencer couldn't help feeling a hint of comfort. It took all his might but eventually he managed to pry his eyes halfway open. He was in the ambulance with one of the medics working on him.

His eyes, however, locked on Derek's face. The man appeared shocked and sick with worry but attempted to smile anyhow. "You sure know how to give me a heart attack, kid." A hand squeezed his. He held back the best as he could. "Just hang in there, alright? We'll get you to a hospital in no time. Hang on."

Spencer nodded faintly, wondering if the gesture was even visible.

All of a sudden his attention was coaxed elsewhere. For right then, out of the blue, he heard a much too familiar voice. "Spencer… I'm sorry."

Spencer really, really didn't want to see but he knew he had to. Slowly, using all the little strength there was in him, he turned his head. What he saw made his eyes widen. His pulse sped up.

There, in the back of the ambulance, stood Kurt. His lips blue, his skin completely without any color whatsoever. Dead.

"I'm sorry", Kurt repeated quietly, the voice echoing inside Spencer's head. Remorse flashed on the lifeless face. "My curse is yours, now."

"Reid!" Derek's hand squeezed his a lot more tightly. "Stay awake, alright? Stay with me."

Spencer barely heard. All he saw was Kurt's ghost. His heart thumped beyond any limitations, so hard that his chest hurt. His thoughts spun madly.

This… This couldn't be happening! What the hell was even happening? Why was a dead boy standing there in front of him? Was he losing his mind? Or was he actually cursed? Was this how it started with his mom?

Why couldn't he wake up from this nightmare?

"Reid!"

Spencer slipped into the dark. There was absolutely no comfort in it.

TBC, OR NOT?

A/N: Oooh, boy…! (winces) Poor Reid, he's in for a HORRIBLE ride. (shudders)

Soooo… What's the verdict? To live and flourish – or to be deleted and perish? PLEASE, leave a note and let me know! Your opinion seriously means a lot to me. Soooo… Pwease…?

You guys, thank you so much for reading this bit! Who knows, maybe I'll be seeing ya again…?

Take care!