To say that Spence listened intently when another person spoke was a bit of an understatement. Whether a friend or the barista down the street, he always focused on his conversational partners with an intensity that his brothers sometimes called 'creepy,' but he preferred to think of it as singularly attentive. It was what people deserved, after all. Half-listening meant missing so much about a person. Body language and how it confirmed or contradicted what they were saying, most obviously, but deeper things, too. Like connection.
The detective and the special agent firmly believed that it was impossible to connect with anyone if you weren’t open to it yourself, and the quickest way to show it was to simply listen. Connecting with a client was a little bit different than other situations, but in the end it all boiled down to one thing: trust. As Spence listened to Eleanor now, focusing only on her with no note-taking to distract either of them (he would dictate his impressions into a recorder after she left, Coop-style) and giving her the space to say what she needed to say, he sent her a message without words that she could trust him. That he really would help her, as much as he was able.
And maybe a little more than that, albeit unintentionally. Sometimes with clients he had to act more interested in their problems than he actually was – even reincarnate PIs had boring cases – but not with Eleanor. His interest was genuine, not just in the case, but in her. Something about her held his attention like no woman (client or otherwise) had in… well, a lot longer than he’d like to admit. And it wasn't just that she was pretty. Though she was, actually, very pretty.
That he probably wouldn’t mention in his tapes.
Nobody ever believes me. He made mental notes about the important details she told him, but those four small words cushioned among the rest struck a chord in him the most. A lot was buried in them. They weren’t pertinent to the case, exactly, but he could tell just from the way she said them that they were vital to understanding Eleanor. A key that needed a lock.
“Let’s get one thing clear right away: I believe you, Eleanor.” He was utterly serious now, without the reassuring smile but still looking upon her with kind eyes. “You wouldn’t know, being a twin yourself, but watching twins grow up together, from newborns all the way up – you just know something’s different about them. ‘Close’ doesn’t really cover it, and us regular siblings, we just learn to accept it.” The smile returned. “And make fun of it, when the opportunity strikes. But just the once. Some of us aren’t smart enough to realize beforehand that the revenge of twins hits twice as hard.”
He hoped both his limited understanding of her unquantifiable bond with her brother and his attempt at injecting some lightness into it with the hint of a funny story from his childhood would be enough to set her at ease before he answered her question. Nothing he could tell her was very comforting, and he sighed heavily, crossing his arms and leaning forward on the desk as he weighed the best response. In the end, he decided, what Eleanor needed most right now was answers. Straight ones. Throughout her whole ordeal, she'd had nothing of the kind.
“They do,” he answered honestly. “New reincarnates go missing all the time, but it’s more common in younger ones. Teenagers, mostly. Families aren’t supportive, the Agency is well-intentioned but overworked, and kids run away. With nowhere to go, a lot of them get eaten up by predatory groups who promise them safety and belonging and then exploit them for all they’re worth. It’s… pretty ugly.”
Spence sighed again, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Just last week he’d had to tell a mother and father that he’d found their missing daughter in the Resistance, and she’d told him in no uncertain terms that she would not be coming back to them. He ended up waiving much of their bill – bad for business, but it was the least he could do when he was the bearer of bad news.
“I’m not saying that’s what happened to Aaron,” Spence continued after a moment. “Reincarnates your age tend to seek out other people from their source and forget to leave a note. I'll check where I can, though. Cover all the bases.”