Closer - A Spencer Reid story (2)

13

The mounting tension between Spencer and June had become almost palpable. At first, Spencer thought it was just the stress of the case, the relentless pursuit of an unsub who seemed to have a disturbing, almost personal, obsession with his past. But as the days wore on, he could feel June's growing unease whenever he was around her. The constant late nights, the evasive answers about his whereabouts, and, most of all, the reemergence of Yn in his life were taking their toll on his relationship.

June had been patient, more so than Spencer had anticipated, but there was a shift in her demeanor now. He noticed her sidelong glances, the way she pursed her lips when he mentioned Yn's name. She had stopped asking questions about the case altogether, and while a part of him was relieved, he could see how the distance between them had grown into a silent rift. One evening, as he returned to his apartment after another long day with the BAU, he found June sitting on his couch, arms crossed, her expression a blend of frustration and hurt.

"Spencer," she began, her voice steady but cold, "we need to talk."

He swallowed, sensing the gravity of her tone. "Of course," he replied, setting his bag down and moving to sit across from her. "What's on your mind?"

She took a deep breath, and her gaze softened just slightly. "I know you have a lot on your plate with the case, and I want to support you, but..." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this than just the case itself."

He shifted uncomfortably, his fingers threading together as he attempted to maintain composure. "June, it's... it's complicated. The unsub is targeting people connected to me and Yn, and it's..." He stopped himself, realizing he was trying to reassure her with logic rather than honesty.

"Spencer," she interrupted, her voice tinged with frustration. "This isn't just about the case, and you know it. It's about you and her."

The words hung heavy between them, and Spencer felt his heart beat faster. He wanted to reassure her, to give her the peace of mind she deserved, but how could he, when even he wasn't sure of his own feelings?

"It's not like that," he managed, his voice unsteady. "Yn and I... we share a history, yes, but we're focused on catching the unsub. That's all."

June sighed, shaking her head. "Spencer, I'm not blind. Every time you talk about her, it's different. I see the way you look when you mention her name. It's like... there's a part of you that still hasn't let go."

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut because he knew, on some level, that she was right. Yn's presence, her reappearance in his life, had stirred emotions he thought he'd buried long ago. But how could he explain that to June without making things worse? How could he put into words the confusing mix of regret, nostalgia, and longing that resurfaced whenever he was around Yn?

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his own indecision. "June, I won't deny that Yn and I have a complicated past. But that's all it is—the past. I'm with you now, and I... I want to be here, with you."

She looked at him, her expression a mix of hope and heartbreak. "Spencer, I want to believe that, I really do. But every time you say her name, every time you come back from work with that look in your eyes... it's like I'm competing with a ghost. And I can't be with someone who's not fully here with me."

Her words pierced through him, and he felt a pang of guilt settle in his chest. "June, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way." He reached for her hand, but she pulled away, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

"I don't know if I can do this," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "I thought I could, but... I don't think I can watch you be so close to her and pretend it doesn't affect me. You might not see it, but I can. There's a part of you that's still with her, and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to live in her shadow."