Beautiful Things

My patience was growing thin. Time meant nothing to me. It began to feel like I had been here for weeks, but I knew there was no way that could be true. All I knew was that it wasn't ten o'clock yet, because I was still alive.

I couldn't think about what happened to Reid. I couldn't think about if he was okay or if he wasn't. If I worried too much, there was no way I would be able to make it out of here. I had to keep my hopes up if I was to survive.

My eyelids were getting heavy. I drifted in and out of consciousness, because I was so exhausted. I was scared to wake up to a knife in my stomach or some new twisted form of torture this guy would think of.

"Are you ready?" he laughed.

I looked up to notice he was standing in front of me. I hadn't noticed he was there until he began speaking. The girl was standing off to the side, away from both of us. She was watching, though.

"I'm not Rebecca," I mumbled. I turned to the girl, "Tell him I'm not Rebecca."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she lied.

He turned to look at her, as if he was taking what I was saying into consideration. I was surprised, but also thankful he was listening to me instead of ignoring me. Maybe this was my chance.

"You know what else she knows but didn't tell you?" I asked him loudly, making myself loud and clear, "I work for the police! Actually, I'm in charge of the police!"

"Rebecca isn't a cop," he said quietly to no one in particular.

"I'm not Rebecca! I promise!" I cried out.

"Shut up, bitch!" the girl retorted angrily. She looked at the guy, her stare was unusually evil and intimidating. "Kill her already!"

"Stop yelling at me," he pleaded as he clasped his ears with his hands.

The girl laughed bitterly and moved in closer. She was face to face with the guy, and she stared at him without any fear. She was shaking her head as she practically growled.

"You're weak," she spat.

I watched carefully as she moved over to a box off to the side. She opened it, taking out a long sharp knife. She carried it over to where I was, swinging it in her hands like it was a toy. I held my breath.

This was the part where I was going to die.



Beep...Beep...Beep...

"Turn it off!" I muttered angrily.

I kept my eyes closed tight and body limp. I didn't move a single muscle, because I felt extremely tired. I wasn't sure where I was or what happened exactly, and that lead me to another question...

Was I dead?

I wondered if this was the afterlife, maybe? Was this where everyone ended up? I slowly opened my eyes, only to stare at the sickly white ceiling above me. I think I'm dead.

"Megan?" a soft voice said soothingly.

A hand touched my arm. It was warm and comforting. I smiled subconsciously. Maybe I wasn't dead? If I was though, this wasn't half bad.

"Mhm," I mumbled.

A man leaned over me, smiling into my eyes. He looked happy to see me, which was strange because I had never seen him before. I saw a name tag dangling from his white coat. It read Doctor Brady.

Doctor! I wasn't dead! I was so excited, I wanted to sit up and just hug him! That's when I noticed the IV in my hand and the many wires connected to me.

"Easy now," Dr. Brady told me as he slowly pushed me back down into place, "You can't move just yet. I'll have a nurse come in and check on you, and then we can get rid of some of these wires."

"Can I sit up at least?" I asked desperately, "I can't stand the ceiling."

"Okay," he laughed, "But I have to move you."

He lift me up right with little work having to be done on my part. He was a doctor after all, and learned how to do these things professionally. I was so comfortable with two pillows propped up behind me. I had a perfect view of the doorway to my room. I noticed a few empty chairs were off to the side.

"What happened?" I asked him, pulling his attention away from a clipboard in his hands.

He looked at me. He furrowed his eyebrows, possibly unsure of what to tell me. I didn't remember much, or anything actually. I wasn't sure how I got here or why I was here. What were my injuries? Who gave them to me?

"Don't worry about that right now," he finally said, "Just try to get better."

"Am I going to be okay?!" I exclaimed, "Why don't I remember what happened?!"

"You don't remember what happened?" he repeated, "You took a tough blow to the head. We hadn't counted on amnesia. I'm going to send in someone to run some tests on you, okay?"

"Amnesia?"

"You're going to be okay," he reminded me.

"Is there a Spencer Reid checked in here?" I asked, changing the subject completely.

Dr. Brady gave me a strange look.

"Funny you should ask," he replied, "He was actually checked in a few days ago, but was released soon after."

I sighed in relief. "What happened?"

"I can't release that information, but he's been in the waiting room all night if you want to talk to him."

"Yes please!" I cried happily.

Dr. Brady nodded and left the room, leaving me completely alone in silence. I stared out the open doorway, watching the nurses and patients pass. Some looked in and smiled. I wondered what I looked like right now, probably terrible.

In a few minutes, Reid and Morgan were in the doorway. Spencer's eyes lit up just like I remembered. I couldn't help but smile when I saw them.

"Megan!" Morgan exclaimed.

He came over and gave me a hug. I probably squeezed him too tight, but I was so excited. Morgan took an empty seat that he pulled up beside me. Reid stood awkwardly off to the side.

"Well come give me a hug!" I insisted, opening my arms wide.

Reid made his way over sheepishly. His hug was more gentle that Morgan's, and I didn't squeeze him in fear I might actually hurt him. He pulled a chair up beside Morgan and sat down. They both stared at me.

"We have to ask you some questions," Morgan finally told me, "Are you ready for that?"

"Yes, yes, of course," I replied, "But then you have to answer mine."

"Sounds fair enough," he smiled.

I smiled back. I was glad that question had a different answer.