Closer - A Spencer Reid story (2)

14

Yn's phone buzzed with a notification that, at first glance, seemed innocuous. A simple text message, but her blood ran cold when she saw it wasn't from any of her contacts.

"Did you know he kissed her while you were still together?"

She nearly dropped her phone. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she re-read the message, hoping, praying that somehow she had misunderstood. But there it was, in stark black and white. Her fingers trembled as she locked her phone screen and forced herself to look away, trying to regain her composure.

Since reuniting with Spencer on this case, the lines between her past and present had been blurred. She'd expected to face the confusion, the tension, the regret. But she hadn't anticipated this. Not the unsub taunting her with the most painful parts of her history, details so precise that it felt as though they were drawing a map of her soul's scars.

Over the next few days, the messages became relentless. Each was sharp and pointed, hitting her where she was weakest. They whispered secrets she had only buried, hinting at moments she had once tried to erase from her memory.

"You trusted him. You thought he loved you. But you weren't enough to keep him away from her."

Yn's grip on her phone tightened as she read those words again and again. Spencer had warned her not to respond, to let the unsub's messages roll off her, but these barbs were aimed to hurt, meant to break her down. She could feel the unsub's invisible hands tugging at her carefully constructed walls, determined to bring them crumbling down.

The BAU was trying to trace the messages back to the unsub, but it was like chasing a ghost. Each message arrived from a different number, always untraceable and encrypted. She avoided looking at her phone in the presence of others, but she couldn't escape the uneasy feeling that the unsub was lurking, watching her every move, reveling in her discomfort.

Spencer had picked up on her distress, of course. He was trained to notice even the smallest shifts in body language. He hadn't asked her about the messages directly, likely sensing that she wouldn't want to discuss it, but she could feel his concern. He hovered close, too close, his glances at her lingering with unspoken questions.

But she couldn't tell him—not about this. There were already so many unhealed wounds between them, and this unsub was peeling them back, layer by layer. She didn't want to reopen the past, especially not in front of Spencer.

Yet, the messages wore her down.

One night, Yn lingered in the office after everyone had left. She sat alone, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and hurt. She shouldn't have stayed. She should have gone back to her apartment, where she could bury herself in work or distract herself with anything else. But her chest was tight with anger and sadness, memories of Spencer's betrayal gnawing at her until she felt hollowed out.

The last message flashed in her mind, dredging up emotions she'd once buried.

"He didn't even think about you when he kissed her. You were just... there."

She clenched her fists, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. She had convinced herself she was over it, that she had made peace with her past. But the unsub's words made her question everything she thought she had healed from.

"Yn?"

She jumped, surprised to hear Spencer's voice. He stood at the doorway, brow furrowed, worry etched into every line of his face. She hadn't even heard him enter.

"I didn't realize you were still here," she replied, voice hoarse from the turmoil of emotions.

"Neither did I. I thought I was the last one here," he said, stepping further into the room, his gaze never leaving her face. "Are... are you okay?"