Closer - A Spencer Reid story (2)

19

The room was pitch-dark, a stifling silence pressing in on them. Spencer blinked, his eyes struggling to adjust, but there was nothing to see—no window, no glint of light through cracks. Just utter darkness. Yn was beside him, her breathing shallow, quickened with the realization that they'd been locked away somewhere hidden, far from help.

Spencer tried to reach for her hand, but she pulled away, the space between them heavy with lingering hurt. A part of him ached at the distance, but he forced his focus back on their surroundings. The walls were concrete, the air stale, and there was only a low hum of a ventilation system to keep the air circulating. They were hidden well, and he knew that the unsub had likely planned it meticulously.

"Yn," he said, his voice low and careful, "we'll get out of here. Hotch and the others will figure it out soon."

Yn was silent, her body tense beside him, a barrier he couldn't see but could feel. It was as if the walls she'd built were as impenetrable as those of the room. But Spencer wasn't just fighting the unsub—he was fighting to reach her, to prove that everything they'd shared wasn't shattered beyond repair.

Then, the silence broke. A slow, deliberate clapping echoed through the room, and Spencer's heart plummeted. It wasn't a sound of praise but one of pure mockery.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite profiler and his little damsel in distress," came the voice, unmistakably smug.

Spencer's fists clenched. He knew that voice. He'd heard it a thousand times, a voice so familiar it was ingrained in his memory. But hearing it here, in this context, was almost surreal.

"June," he said, the single word laced with both disbelief and realization. "You did this?"

A soft chuckle. "It's funny, isn't it? I mean, all this time you never even suspected."

Beside him, Yn tensed, but Spencer spoke calmly, hiding the storm of emotions roiling within him. "You've been in the BAU's crosshairs for weeks now, June. You've covered your tracks well, but you underestimated how close we were."

June laughed, a bitter, sharp sound that echoed in the confined space. "Oh, Spencer. You always did underestimate me. But I guess I was a fool too, thinking you could ever actually move on."

Spencer didn't flinch, didn't rise to her bait. He kept his voice measured, refusing to feed into the satisfaction she craved. "You never seemed to have a problem with Yn before. You knew about my past, June."

"Yes, I did," June replied, her tone laced with bitterness. "But it was different when she was gone—when I didn't have to see her, know that you were comparing me to her every time we were together."

Spencer swallowed, steadying his breathing. He couldn't let her see his emotions, not when she thrived on control. "And this is your solution? Kidnapping? Manipulating lives? Playing a game that puts people in danger?"

Another laugh, colder this time. "Oh, don't act so shocked, Spencer. You know I've studied you for years, all your meticulous ways, your brilliance. You should be flattered. This was supposed to be a simple test, just to see if you could ever really commit, if I could trust you. But the moment Yn came back into the picture, you failed, Spencer. You let her come back in without a second thought."

Yn shifted beside him, tense and uncomfortable, and Spencer's heart ached at what she must be feeling. He turned his head in her direction, wanting to reassure her, but before he could say anything, June continued.

"You're surprisingly calm," June noted, her voice smug. "But you shouldn't be, Spencer. What if this were someone else in that chair? What if it were JJ, for instance?"