A/N: So I'm Pretty much a jerk. I'm going to spare you the explanations, because everything is just gonna sound like an excuse. Actually, screw that, I want you to love me. :P SORRY. I could tell you how busy I've been, but I can't even... seriously. I've had near constant musical rehearsal, and so much homework, that I feared for my sanity. I've joined an unmanageable number of groups... and, AH. I spend most of my time desperately hyperventilating, and inspiration WOULD NOT COME. Luckily I found this guy buried in my documents. READ. Enjoy. I've actually been caught up in a different fandom, and it's been hard to write this. But... here ya go! Please, please review, it pretty much makes my life, especially when I'm pulling all nighters trying to please my english teacher... (why must that sound so wrong?) It's this beautiful ray of sunshine in my sleep deprived haze. Oh man, I'm one of those rambly authors. Just read the damn thing. :)

His eyes were squeezed tightly shut. The white was blinding now, a bright imprint on his corneas, even as he tried to shut it out. He realized he'd give anything to be free of it. He rocked slowly. If he could ignore the surreality of the world around him, perhaps he could break free. He wondered if this is how his mother felt when he coaxed her from sleep. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think. He just wanted out.

His throat felt raw from screaming. There was a deep pounding in his head, and the inside of his elbow ached, an unwelcome reminder of a painful truth. That the thing that was supposed to be his release, was supposed to be worth it...

Had imprisoned him.

The price of a desperate bid for freedom from his own twisted mind, was entrapment inside it. And the bill had been presented to him. All he could do was battle the demons that he had been able to lock in the back of his mind, in desperate hopes that he'd be set free.

But now they were roaming free around him.

Now they were rushing to greet him where he had no safe word. Where he was completely and totally exposed to them.

He clapped his hands over his ears to stop the whispers that slipped around him. Mutterings of his fears and failures that remained a constant buzz through the days he'd been trapped here. This was his nightmare. Plain and simple. He was a psych patient. Hiding in his own mind. Trying desperately to be free of the voices.

Many a night, he had woken, screaming, from a look at himself, vacant, hiding in the corner in a straightjacket, talking to people who weren't there. And his subconscious knew it. So it was becoming a reality. With that unsettling thought, his eyelids jerked he heard it.

Clear as a bell. It was Garcia. Speaking to him... as if through a bullhorn. He scrambled to his feet, aches forgotten, and cried out towards the booming of her magnified voice.

"Garcia?" I'm so sorry baby boy. I've said it before...She sounded so heartbroken.

"GARCIA? Oh my god... I'm here! RIGHT HERE! Garcia? It's Reid!" He banged on the wall.

"GARCIA!" He banged harder. His palm began to hurt.

"HELP ME! I'm trapped in some sort of... some locked room. I can't get out! PLEASE Garcia!" Morgan tried really hard. We all... we're all here for you. You better get back here mr. genius. He began sobbing.

"GARCIA!" He ran wildly at the walls, banging his fists into the indestructible white.

"I AM HERE! I AM!" Tears streamed sloppily, making no mark upon his still pristine clothing.

"WHY CAN'T YOU HEAR ME? PENELOPE!"Baby Girl.

"Morgan? DEREK, HELP ME!"I guess that's my cue to leave. See ya babe.

"No. No, no, no. Garcia, come back! Please!" He felt a warm pressure on his forehead, and reached up, brow furrowed in confusion... Still feeling the softness of her lips pressed against his collapsed to the ground again.

"Come back." He listened to the fading of her bubbly voice, and cried. Time slipped by... elusive, immeasurable. He didn't know how long he'd been here, waiting for something he couldn't understand. Every time he felt a warmth wash over him, or a pressure on his hand, or a soft voice calling to him, his hope raised, like a flame that was cranked up to a burn on a stovetop. Only to be extinguished.

Because it was the final taunt, wasn't it? Hearing their sympathy in his heart, basking in it's glow...

But he couldn't touch. Couldn't see, couldn't reach back for them.

His thoughts tumbled in endless circles. Derek would take over a shift. And at the sound of his voice his thoughts would rocket back to the older man screaming his name. And then he'd be reminded, suddenly, harshly of the godawful thing he did. Of his freaking genius IQ leading him to the stupidest decision he'd ever made. But it wasn't really a decision, was it? Or maybe that's just what he wanted to believe.

It was getting impossible to focus, so great were the emotions building in his chest. They reached a crescendo, his insides roiling in the agony of the hellhole that was his own flawless mind... and then he felt a cold dread seep into his body, and his gaze snapped up... to meet another.

His stomach dropped into his knees, and his lip quivered involuntarily.

"No. No way in hell are you... I refuse to sit here and... and fall victim to my own mind!" The figure laughed, cruel and humourless.

"You always were a stubborn child Spencer." He squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the onslaught of unwelcome emotion, so heightened here where all he could do was feel.

"I'm not going to have to literally battle my demons, am I, because that's just... that's just... absurd." Another chuckle sounded, slicing through the silence spencer had hoped would be preserved... a sign that he was imagining things. Which... he guessed he was either way.

"I just want to talk. Don't you want to talk to your father?"

"You're not my father."