The Shadows We Dance With

Ch29: The Testimony

The room was as cold and sterile, its harsh fluorescent lighting doing little to dispel the shadows that clung to the corners. Spencer Reid sat at the metal table, wrapped in a blanket that seemed to swallow his small frame. Beneath it, the black diamond-studded outfit he wore was a grotesque reminder of the world he had been forced into.

His eyes were wide, darting around the room, searching for something—someone—who wasn't there. The female officer seated across from him was trying her best to reach him, her voice soft and kind, but Spencer remained silent, frozen in place. His mind was a whirlwind of fear and confusion, the events of the past days—or had it been weeks?—blurring together in a haze of terror and disbelief.

"Spencer," the officer said gently, leaning forward slightly in her chair. "I know you've been through something very difficult, but we're here to help you. We just need you to tell us what happened."

Spencer's gaze flicked toward her for a brief moment, but he quickly looked away, his eyes returning to the door. He was waiting—hoping—that someone would walk through it and make everything okay again. He didn't know how to explain what had happened, didn't know if he could find the words even if he tried. All he knew was that he needed to get out, needed to escape the suffocating weight of the memories that were pressing down on him.

The officer sighed softly, glancing at the two-way mirror that lined one wall of the room. She knew there were others watching from the other side, waiting for her to break through to this frightened boy, but it wasn't working. Spencer was too closed off, too locked inside his own mind. She needed to try something different, something that might help him feel safe enough to talk.

"Spencer," she tried again, keeping her tone as soothing as possible, "you're safe here. No one can hurt you now. Can you tell me about what happened? Can you tell me who did this to you?"

But Spencer's silence remained unbroken, his eyes still fixed on the door, his hands clutching the blanket as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. It was clear that he wasn't going to talk—not like this, not alone.

The officer bit her lip, thinking hard. She had seen this kind of reaction before, in other victims who had been through traumatic experiences. Sometimes, they just needed to see a familiar face, someone they trusted, to feel safe enough to open up. And she had a strong feeling she knew who that someone was for Spencer.

"We're going to take a little break," she said gently, standing up from her chair. "I'll be right back, okay? You just stay here."

Spencer didn't respond, his gaze never leaving the door as the officer quietly exited the room. The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving Spencer alone in the cold, sterile space. The silence was oppressive, the ticking of the wall clock the only sound breaking through the stillness. Spencer's mind raced, his thoughts spiraling into chaos. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to escape the nightmare that was closing in around him.

Minutes passed, though to Spencer it felt like an eternity. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder of the terror that lurked just beneath the surface. He was waiting, hoping, for something—anything—that would break the silence, that would bring him back to reality.

And then, the door opened again.

This time, when the officer reentered the room, she wasn't alone. Behind her, Spencer's eyes immediately locked onto the figure of Harry as he stepped into the room. Harry was around Spencer's age, maybe a few months older, with dark hair that fell messily into his eyes. His expression was a mix of concern and determination, his eyes immediately finding Spencer's as he entered the room.