Closer - A Spencer Reid story (2)

7

The message arrived late, the screen of Spencer's phone glowing in the darkness like a warning. His heart pounded as he opened it, the words dripping with malice and precision, aimed straight at his deepest wound.

"Do you remember the night with JJ? She might've forgiven you, but did Yn ever know? Or did you lie to her too?"

Spencer felt the blood drain from his face. His fingers tightened around the phone, knuckles turning white. How could the killer know this? How could she have unearthed something so buried, so shameful? The guilt he thought he'd managed to contain over the years now threatened to suffocate him. It was as if she had reached into the past, plucking out his worst mistake and dangling it in front of him like a trap.

He could barely breathe as the memory of that night with JJ resurfaced. The brief, fleeting connection that had led to a betrayal he could never fully forgive himself for. JJ had forgiven him, understanding it for what it was—an emotional lapse, not love—but Yn had never known. He had never told her, never allowed himself to. Now, that secret was a weapon in the hands of someone capable of turning it into something deadly.

Spencer stared at the message, dread curling in his stomach. The killer knew more than she should, and her fixation on him was becoming more terrifying by the day. How long had she been watching him? How much of his life had she dissected? He felt like a puppet with strings being pulled by someone who enjoyed seeing him unravel.

This case was different. The unsub wasn't just targeting strangers. She was targeting his past, his heart, and now, Yn. Every clue she left, every taunt she sent, was designed to hurt him on a personal level. It wasn't just about his intellect anymore; it was about making him feel vulnerable, exposed.

Spencer spent hours trying to piece together the clues. Who was she? Why was she so obsessed with him? She knew too much about his history—far too much. Had they crossed paths before? Was she someone from a previous case? Someone he'd wronged without realizing it? Each theory he came up with felt insufficient, like the answers were just beyond his reach, teasing him with their proximity but never coming into focus.

His thoughts always circled back to Yn. As much as he tried to keep her out of the investigation in his mind, she was now a part of it, whether she wanted to be or not. The killer had made her a target, and Spencer feared what that meant. Would she use Yn as leverage? Or was she simply toying with his emotions, knowing that he still cared deeply for her? The thought of Yn being in danger made his pulse race with fear. He couldn't protect her from something he didn't understand, and that terrified him.

The next morning, when Spencer checked in on Yn, he noticed the subtle shift in her demeanor. She didn't press him about his unease, but he could tell she sensed something was wrong. Her eyes lingered on him a bit too long, her voice quieter than usual when she asked, "Is everything okay?"

Spencer swallowed hard, the weight of the secret and the case pressing down on him. "Yeah. Just... a lot on my mind with the case." His voice was clipped, distant, even to his own ears. He was lying again, and that realization tore at him.

Yn nodded, her expression unreadable. She didn't push him, didn't ask for more details, but Spencer could feel the distance between them widening. Her emotional walls were firmly in place, and he understood why. He wasn't giving her any reason to trust him again, not when he was hiding so much.

Every minute spent around her made his fear grow. What if the killer did something to Yn? What if, in her twisted game, she pushed too far? Spencer couldn't bear the thought of Yn being hurt because of him. He had already hurt her once with his betrayal, and the guilt from that weighed heavily on his conscience. Now, there was a real threat, and he felt powerless to stop it.

In the quiet hours at the BAU, Spencer pored over the case files, his mind racing. He studied every clue, every message, trying to find the missing piece that would tell him who the killer was. There was a pattern here—there had to be. But it was like chasing a shadow, always slipping out of reach. The killer was playing with him, toying with his emotions, and every message felt more personal, more invasive.

He stayed late at his desk, eyes burning from lack of sleep, the mounting pressure gnawing at his nerves. He analyzed the profile they had so far: female, intelligent, highly skilled in manipulating people. She knew exactly which buttons to press, how to push him to the brink. But why him? Why now? He scoured old cases, looking for any connection, any hint of someone who might have slipped through the cracks.

The messages continued to haunt him, filling his mind with dread. He couldn't focus on anything else—not the case, not June, and certainly not Yn. The killer was tightening the noose around his life, and Spencer feared it was only a matter of time before something gave way. He knew he should tell Yn about the message, about the killer's twisted knowledge of their past, but how could he? How could he look her in the eye and admit that he had lied to her all those years ago, that the person she had trusted had betrayed her in the worst way?

And what would it mean for them now? Yn was already keeping her distance, wary of getting too close. Telling her the truth would destroy whatever fragile connection they still had, and Spencer wasn't sure he could handle losing her all over again.

He stared at his phone, the screen dark and silent, and wondered how much longer he could keep up this charade. The killer was pushing him to the edge, and he was running out of time to stop her before everything fell apart.

With each passing day, the weight of the secret grew heavier, and the fear for Yn's safety gnawed at his soul. As the killer's manipulations escalated, Spencer knew he couldn't afford any more mistakes. He had to find her, stop her, before she did something that would change all of their lives forever.