A/N: You know, I've had this story idea in the back of my head longer than I can ever remember. Now it's bursting out, so I just had to give it some flesh. (grins sheepishly)

WARNINGS: Language, a hint of gore, general weirdness… Ya know, the usual lot. (smirks coyly)

DISCLAIMER: 'CM' returned with a new season a while back. My name's still not up there in the credits. (pouts, and sobs)

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) It's always unnerving to let a new 'baby' out into the world, so I'll get started before I change my mind. I really hope this'll be a good ride!

A Beautiful Mind

Just a Bad Dream?

Dr. Spencer Reid had one particular recurring dream that disturbed him beyond all the others. In that dream he was still a child and lay in the middle of the most beautiful field that was filled with flowers in all possible colors. His mother was sitting beside him with a serene look on her face. All was good and right.

Suddenly his mother looked at him with the saddest eyes and sighed. "I'm so sorry, Spencer. For all of this." Her hand felt cold as she brushed his cheek. "You really need to wake up now, sweetie." And then she disappeared, leaving him all alone.

Once again Spencer woke up from that dream with a violent jolt, gasping for breath although his lungs felt like they'd been burning up. His heart hammered violently in his chest, and for a couple of moments he truly feared it might burst.

He had no idea how long he lay there with his eyes closed, determinedly focused on breathing, until he tried to raise a hand to rub the remnants of moisture from his face. In a flash he realized that the limb wouldn't budge – something was trapping both his wrists.

Ice cold panic shot right through him, down to his spine, and his eyes flew open to meet a desolate gray ceiling that had several cracks on it.

If he'd been able to make his mouth produce anything at all, he would've screamed. But it felt like his tongue had been covered in sand.

Where was he? What the hell had happened?

"Spencer?" a male voice he couldn't recall hearing ever before called out from somewhere at his right. "Spencer, calm down. You're starting to hyperventilate. Take deep, even breaths."

Spencer didn't know how long it took before he got his breathing into at least some control. As soon as he did he moved his head despite the protests of his aching neck. Sitting on a clearly uncomfortable chair was a male doctor in around his mid-thirties with blue eyes, black glasses and equally dark hair. It was impossible to read the look on the man's face.

Spencer swallowed despite the fact that it felt like someone had thrust a knife into his throat. "What… What is this?" He sounded like a scared child but it failed to concern him. He was growing terrified. "Why am I tied up?"

It seemed to take ages before the doctor finally answered in a very professional tone that was most likely supposed to soothe him. "I'm Dr. Daniel Harris – we've met countless of times, remember? And this is Wellington Sanitarium." The man held a pause, most likely seeing the sheer panic rising inside him. A sanitarium…? This had to be a nightmare. "You attacked a nurse yesterday, Spencer. Do you remember that?" The doctor sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. "After three months you were finally making progress, and now this. Now we need to find another path of treatment for you."

Spencer didn't even hear most of the other man's words. All that was left echoing into his head were the first words. His eyes widened to a dramatic extend. He'd never felt the kind of terror he did just then – not with Tobias Hankel, not even when the headaches began.

A sanitarium? He'd been in a sanitarium for three months? No – that just wasn't possible!

He shook his head violently even though it made him feel dizzy. Or perhaps it was the drugs these people must've given him? "No. No, no, no, no. My team… We were working on a case, in Salem. We… We were just planning on making the arrest." That was the last thing he remembered. They were forced to split up, and he ran through a field…

Or no, wait. That was with the Hankel case.

He unleashed a groan and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment when a wave of headache crashed in without mercy.

"Spencer." Something in Dr. Harris' voice forced him to look towards the man. There was a sad look in the doctor's eyes. "You're hallucinating again. We're not in Salem – not even in Massachusetts."

Spencer frowned, the panic from before turning into something much sharper that made it hard to breathe. Stinging traveled everywhere in his veins and the waves of terror spinning through struck his body numb. "What…?" He shook his head, tears building up behind his eyes. This nightmare had to end! This couldn't happen! "I'm SSA Dr. Spencer Reid, from the FBI's BAU-team! Unit chief Aaron Hotchner… You have to call him – he'll tell you! Please… Call him, please. I don't belong here! I'm not crazy!"

Dr. Harris sighed again, his face tightening. "You were found walking in the middle of a road three and a half months ago, naked and covered in blood, without any ID. You wouldn't tell whose blood it was all over you when the police questioned you." The doctor's eyes were stern as they bore straigth into his. "We double checked everything, Spencer. You're not a FBI agent, haven't been for over a year – since the symptoms got out of control. You're a mental patient with the diagnose of severe schizophrenia. You'd been in outpatient care for three months until you disappeared a month before you were found from the road." When he was too overwhelmed by something harder than shock the man went on. "You're not crazy, Spencer. You're very sick, and we need to find the right way of making you feel better. We need to make those hallucinations go away."

By then the tears were streaming freely down Spencer's cheeks. "I'm not crazy!" he cried out in a desperate, heartbreaking tone. "Please! You have to believe me! I'm not crazy! You have to let me out of here!"

Dr. Harris inhaled deeply, then pulled out a pocket mirror. "This is what you did to yourself, Spencer. This is why you're here now. This is why you need this treatment."

Spencer stared into the mirror, and was fairly sure his heart stopped for a second.

For some reason the first thing he noticed was that he was nearly bald. There was only the frail beginning of dark hair visible. It also appeared he'd lost a lot of weight. His cheekbones were clearly pronounced, and the dark circles around his eyes stood out against nearly white skin. But then his eyes fell downwards, and he discovered what the doctor had been talking about. There were deep scars, from both corners of his lips to almost halfway of both cheeks.

He stared at the barely recognizable reflection and felt sick to his stomach.

What… happened to him?

"You did that to yourself", Dr. Harris told him in a quiet, very serious tone. "And since then you've harmed yourself several times. According to you the voices tell you to do so. That's why we keep you locked up."

None of those words really made it through to Spencer anymore. All that existed was overwhelming terror, such that had his whole system paralyzed.

And then, finally, he screamed, howled.

"Nurse!" Dr. Harris' voice was nothing but static to him. "He's going into a panic attack! Bring me the sedative!"

What the hell was going on? What had happened to him?

The needle was pushed through Spencer's skin far from gently and he cried out once more, a million thoughts exploding inside his head.

Why were these people doing this to him? How was he going to get out of this place?

With that thought the drug kicked in, and he fell into a sea of black.

'A question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or are the others crazy?'

(Albert Einstein)

TBC, OR NOT?

A/N: Oh boy…! This fic-idea has been banging the back of my head for so long that I can't believe the first bit's finally written down. (gawks)

BUT, the question goes… Would you guys like to see more of this in the future? At the moment it seems there'd be nine more bits. I've got a pretty solid idea of how this story will advance, but it's all up to you. Do ya want more? PLEASE, leave a note to let me know! (gives puppy's eyes)

At this point, thank you so much for reading! (Or should I type 'reiding'…?)

Who knows, maybe I'll c ya again later. (glances hopefully)

Take care!