1 out of 150//Spencer Reid

30. Recovered memory

He nodded, guiding you to one of the interrogation rooms. There you sat for 10 minutes. In that time, you prepared yourself. You slowed your heart rate and tried to relax. The more you worried, the harder it would've been to concentrate. Eventually, Prentiss walked into the interrogation room, a calm look on her face. You were certain that at this very moment, Prentiss was calmer than you.

"Are you ready for this? It's not going to be easy. You'll be remembering things that might not be good." Prentiss warned you.

"Honestly, I'm not ready for this. But if it means that we can find Alyssa, I need to do this." You admitted, exhaling.

"Well, let's get right into it. Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths in and out, and focus on my voice and my voice only." Prentiss instructed. You watched as she took out her phone and started recording.

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths in and out. Within minutes, you could hear her voice as you looked at darkness.

"We're going to start simple, okay? Take yourself back to the apartment that the unsub led you to. Do you see anything?" Prentiss asked.

You opened your eyes and found yourself back at the apartment. This time, instead of the entire apartment being empty, you found yourself standing in the middle of what looked to be the kitchen. There were marble benches with black cupboards. There were normal kitchen appliances neatly placed around, making it feel like someone actually used the kitchen to cook.

You turned around, seeing a couch, a TV and a table. The TV was on, playing some random cartoon. The couch had pillows strewn about and the table was covered in magazines, food and other random things that one might own.

"The apartment...it's completely furnished. A kitchen, a couch, a TV. Everything." You spoke, confused.

"Okay. What about the bedroom? Is there anything in there?" Prentiss asked.

You carefully made your way to the bedroom, opening the door. Jackson's body was gone. There was a bed, two night-stands and another chair. The vanity was full of jewellery and other items.

Before you could note anything else, you heard the front door slam. You drew your attention back to the kitchen and living-room. You leaned against the wall that separated the bedroom from the kitchen and living-room. You heard a male voice. Just like the handwriting, his voice was familiar, but to whom the voice actually belonged to, you had no idea. No faces or names came to mind.

"Jackson's body was gone. The bedroom was just as furnished as the kitchen and the living-room. I heard the door slam. I didn't see anyone, but I heard a male voice." You admitted.

"What's he saying? Is he talking to someone in person, or over the phone?" Prentiss asked.

You listened intently to the male. You could tell that he was talking to someone else in the apartment, because while he was speaking, you could hear smaller footsteps, maybe a child.

"Do you have it?" The other voice spoke. You instantly recognised who was talking. It was you. You were 12, or maybe 13.

"Yes, yes. $25 for the murders and $25 for the cheating. $50 all together." The man exhaled.

"He's talking to someone in the apartment. He's talking to me, when I was 12 or maybe 13." You explained.

"What are you two talking about?" Prentiss asked.

"Y'know, now that I think about it, I'm sure you've done some pretty bad things." The man spoke, clearly unimpressed.

"I'm not the jerk who cheated on his wife and proceeded to murder the women he cheated with." The younger version of you was very intelligent for someone so young.