It will most likely take me longer to update for a few reasons, but the only one that should interest you is that I'm trying super-hard to be able to beta my own stories again. I've been considering getting rid of my beta account for a while, but I didn't think that was very fair, so just pleaz bare with me!

White Light- Chapter 12

Way Down

"Spencer," she sang. "Don't hide from me; you know you won't win,"

I had no idea what I had done to cause the sudden change in Abigail's behavior, but I hoped that this hallucination would soon pass and another one would take its place. I couldn't take it anymore, and the track marks forming on my arm were proof of that. I honestly had no idea why I was hallucinating in the first place, and the only thing I was sure of was that I was in a hospital trapped in my mind.

'Coma,' my mind suddenly supplied. I sighed as the realization hit me, but I quickly ran from my hiding place underneath the sink in the hotel room and darted out into the hallway. My hands started shaking as I turned around the corner, and a surprised scream slipped from my lips as I ran into a little boy.

"Sorry," I muttered, but as I looked down at him, I gasped. The little boy was frowning at me, and he was shaking his head. His thick rimmed glasses revealed tearful eyes, and his matted brown hair was tainted with a coat of blood. His plaid shirt and his dark washed jeans were soaked with rain and perspiration, and he was visibly shaking. I didn't need to take a closer look at the boy to realize who he was, and as soon as I did, I knew what was going on.

"It' Him, isn't it?" I asked. My voice only tremmored slightly, something that I quickly regretted, because now matter how small the noise was, it was still enough for the child to know I was afraid.

Ten year-old Spencer Reid nodded his head, and he pointed out a large ceiling-to-floor glass mirror. I looked outside, but as soon as I did, I felt dizzy. I closed my eyes and tried to regain focus, and as I reopened them, I realized that the atmosphere had changed again. I was back in my childhood bedroom- again- but this time I was sitting opposite of Spencer. He looked at me with earnest, pleading eyes, and I understood what he wanted immediately.

"I'll catch him; I promise. He won't hurt anyone ever again," I whispered. I knew those words were what Spencer wanted to hear, because I remembered too clearly feeling the exact same way. I wanted someone to tell me that it was all going to be okay, and I wanted to let Spencer have that, even if it was from himself. The child nodded before hugging me closely, letting his head become buried in my chest. I hugged him back, waiting for my latest hallucination to tell me the new piece of information that I needed. My first one told me that I was connected, the second one that I already knew who the killer was. Now, I knew how to treat the child to get what I needed, and knowing myself better than the other children also put me at an advantage.

Suddenly, Spencer pulled away from me, and he moved toward his dresser drawer. He opened the second drawer and produced a wooden box. I knew that I had once used that box, but for what purpose I suddenly couldn't remember. Spencer climbed back on top of the bed again and sat the box down beside us. I reached for its lid, but he only shook his head and retracted my hand. A frown formed on my lips, but yet he still didn't talk. I cursed silently for the fact that only one of my hallucinations had talked, and that was the same one that had tormented me with all the things I hated or that had hated me. Spencer put a delicate finger to his lips before reaching underneath his pillow. He produced an envelope that he placed on top of the box, and once more, it was made clear that I could not touch it. I was growing tired of Spencer's games, and I could sense that he felt my irritation as he wrapped his arms around his legs and leaned against his pillows. I remembered being in that position too many times as a child, and I became angry at myself for making him feel that same way again. I put a comforting hand on Spencer's shoulder, and he reluctantly came back to me. The need to comfort the boy became too strong and overwhelming to ignore, and I placed him back on my chest and combed through his hair. The scene seemed so familiar to me, but my memory seemed to be failing me at the moment.

I let the boy close his eyes and be rocked into a light sleep as I thought of the significance of this hallucination- or rather memory, I supposed would be a more accurate term now. I looked around me, trying my best to wrap my head around the situation by failing somewhat miserably. My eyes wandered around the room desperately, trying my hardest to come to some sort of conclusion.

The wooden box, the envelope, the bed, the drawer, the comfort...It all seemed so familiar, but for the life of me, I couldn't recall a single instance that was even similar to this one. It was obvious to me that this was a recreation of a memory, though, and I knew that it would eventually come back to me. I hated the waiting, though, and I too was becoming tired. I pulled the boy closer to my so I could lean on the bedpost, and as I closed my eyes, the 'memory' changed.

"Close your eyes Spencer; he can't hurt you anymore," the thick-accented female voice whispered. I desperately wanted to open my eyes, and as I realized that I couldn't the desperation to do so grew inside of me. Before I could accomplish this, though, I felt a small pinch near my neck. Almost instantly, I fell to sleep, but not before I heard the start of another conversation.

"What the hell is going on?" William Reid hissed.

"What does it look like?" Annabelle glared back. Before William could respond, Annabelle was marching out of the house, leaving me alone with William. The last thing I heard before I fell to sleep was something that no father should ever have to say to his son.

"My god Spencer; what did he do to you?"

~* WL *~

"And...Charging! Clear!" the step-in nurse shouted as she paddled her patient. Fortunately, his heart started beating again, but she was still on the fence about leaving him. This had been the second time his heart had stopped, and she was afraid that he wouldn't survive another one. Just as she reached for her pager to inform his doctor, she heard a moan come from the bed. She raised her eyebrows as she wandered closer to it, and as she looked over the patient, a smile passed over her delicate features.

"Welcome back, Dr. Reid."

~* WL *~

Aaron Hotchner was pissed. He had been angry before, but he had never been as infuriated as he currently was.

Quickly, the FBI agent briskly speed-walked down the halls of the police station, not even bothering to say good-bye to his team members as they made their way out the door to visit his youngest agent. He violently opened the door to the small office he had been in numerous times in the last few days, and as soon as he entered, he slammed it shut.

"We need to talk, Mr. Reid," Hotch said, seething by this point.

"What about?" William frowned.

Hotch waited to answer as he sat down opposite of his agents father, signalling toward the door for someone to come in. As the doorknob turned open and a pair of heels clicked against the floor, William gaped.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew who did that to Spencer?"

~* WL *~

Yeah. kinda obvious who it is, I know. :) Thnx for reading everyone; I hoped you liked it! Oh, and if you're still a bit confused about the 'memories'/ hallucinations (someone already figured this out though- YAY!) just know that they ARE memories that will lead Spencer to figuring out what the freak is going on, and when he's seeing these 'memories', he has to please the children in them to get the new information he needs to solve the case...PS- It's not too late to enter the holiday contest!