EIGHTEEN ; DIFFERENT.

Quinn awoke to a mug of cold coffee staring her in the eye and a subtle scent of cologne passing through her nose. The red mug that had been placed on the table the night before sat behind her mountain of finished paperwork. As she cleared her vision and looked around tiredly, she saw that the source of the smell was coming from her. She found the sweater Spencer had been wearing on her shoulders, hugged lightly around her.

A doting smile made it's way across her lips. It amazed her how he would always go the extra mile for her.

"Oh," a quiet voice said, "You're up." Quinn turned to see Spencer grinning at her softly. "Morning."

"Morning," she replied, yawning. She looked around, feeling the doctor's eyes on her. "What time is it?"

"Just about eight," he answered. "We have a case, so everyone should be in here soon. I wasn't sure whether to wake you or not." A slightly nervous laugh left him. Quinn smiled to herself as she stretched out the sore muscles in her body.

They were silent for a moment. Quinn's instinct told her that Spencer wanted to say something more. She turned to him, seeing him biting the inside of his cheek. "What?"

He let out a sharp breath. "You were, uh, talking in your sleep last night."

Quinn paled. "I didn't say anything embarrassing, did I? I'm prone to that."

"No, nothing embarrassing, I promise," he said with a light laugh. "Are you still having nightmares?"

The girl paused, words suddenly caught in her throat. Although they had happened less, the men plagued her dreams, often flashbacks that forced Quinn to relive memories, other times her mind's prediction of what was to come for her. Hotch had sat her down once or twice, suggesting therapy for her, but Quinn declined it every time. The last thing Quinn wanted to do was talk about her experiences. Her boss said that he understood, that another team member who had gone through something similar three and a half years ago had said the same thing, but the offer was always on the table.

"Yeah," Quinn squeaked out, attempting to sound as casual as possible. "But I mean, no more than usual." She glanced at him as he stared at her blankly. He didn't believe her and she knew it.

"You were talking about Masters," he said. Quinn detected the hint of distaste in his voice. "It was as if you were talking to him."

The girl pursed her lips. "I'm nervous for his trial," she admitted, shrugging. The sweater around her shoulders brushed up against her cheek. "I'm not sure about it."

"Why?" Spencer asked. He sat down in his desk that was diagonal from hers, suddenly looking confused. "He could get less time, or no time at all. That's good, right?"

"No, no, it's great," she replied, shaking her head. "Don't get me wrong, he's one of the two people I trust completely. But, I'm not sure if seeing him will bring back things from the Horsemen."

Spencer swallowed before speaking, contemplating whether or not he should say what was on his mind. "Things like feelings?" he asked. Quinn's wide eyes met his and he shrugged. "He's in love with you, Quinn." She looked away from him. He cleared his throat. "Do you, uh, love him?"

It took a moment for Quinn to answer. "I think I did," she responded quietly.

"Did?"

"As in past tense," she confirmed. Quinn glanced at him. "Everything's different now."

Spencer didn't know how to respond. He felt his chest become lighter, as if a weight has been removed. Although he was confused by this feeling, he was more confused by her confession. He understood that things had changed, but why wouldn't she still feel the same?

The two sat in the tension-filled silence for a minute, occasionally glancing at each other. Quinn cleared her throat. "It's different because I'm different," she stated. Spencer fully looked at her now. "I'm not the same person that I was five and a half months ago. I'm not as timid as I was, I'm not as willing to give in." She took a short breath. "I think I loved him because he was there. He was the only kind person I had in my life for seven years. There was no way that I couldn't admire it."

Spencer felt his lips thin as he smiled. Quinn was realizing that she had changed. She wasn't a new person, she was just a stronger version of her old self. "I'm proud of who you've become," he admitted. His voice was quiet, but she heard him. She grinned and met his eye as the two stayed quiet for another moment. "Who's the other person?"

"What?"

"The other person you completely trust?" he asked, extending his question. "You said that Masters was one of the two people. Who's the second?" Quinn looked away quickly.

"You," she answered without a second thought. She saw Spencer beam out of the corner of her eye.

"Me?"

Quinn held his gaze now, laughing slightly. "Yes you," she replied. "You have yet to break a promise to me. You're someone I can trust, you've proven that much to me."

Spencer's smile got wider. He glanced down at his shoes as his cheeks began to heat up. The door opened, and both Quinn and Spencer's attention focused on the man walking in. Hotch opened his mouth to speak, furrowed his brow at the two, but then continued. "We have a case," he told them. A small smile came to his lips. "Hope your all-nighter doesn't hurt you. Especially you, Carson. I don't want you sick again."

"Quinn fell asleep three hours into paperwork," Spencer said, eyes flicking to Quinn who gaped at him.

"I did four hours of paperwork," she protested as she narrowed her eyes at him.

He shook his head and pointed a finger at her. "You were practically comatose at one-thirty."

"I was not!"

"You were drooling," he countered.

Quinn gasped and Hotch raised his brows at the two. "Reid, don't pick on Carson for drooling," Hotch ordered as he walked away, a slight laugh in his tone.

"Yeah Pretty Boy, don't pick on Q," a voice taunted from behind them. Morgan placed a cup of coffee in front of Quinn, chuckling to himself. "Welcome back, Carson."

Quinn grinned at him as he retreated from her desk, sitting up from her chair. She watched as the team filed in with tired yet serious expressions. She gave Morgan a puzzled expression. "What's the case?"

"A bombing in Indianapolis," he replied. "We've got to get the briefing done quick and get on the jet."

Quinn nodded, grabbing the go-bag she kept in her desk. She rounded the tables, falling into step with Spencer as the made their way up the steps toward the round table. She felt his eyes on her as she brought the styrofoam cup to her lips and took a sip.

He smiled to himself as she scrunched her face slightly at the taste. "Not Ralph's?" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrows as his smile grew.

Quinn glanced at him and shook her head, wearing the same smile he had. "You were right," she murmured. "It tastes like gasoline."

-----

"This is interesting," Kate said as she looked down at her file, flipping through pages of pictures and reports. The team had boarded the jet and were en route to Indianapolis. There was a heavy feeling over the group, as they were unsure what exactly this was. "A maintenance worker killed at the school was working late installing a new circuit panel. He wasn't supposed to be there."

"So the UnSub may not have intended to kill anyone," Spencer reasoned. "And if he canvased the site beforehand, he would have anticipated the school being empty."

Kate nodded. "Exactly."

"But with the coffee house, he struck first thing in the morning, when it would be packed," JJ stated, looking up at the group.

"Maximizing collateral damage," Morgan added.

Rossi shook his head with a frown. "I don't like it. That's a pretty fast confidence boost."

"Successful bombers always have some sort of trial before they go big," Quinn muttered, eyes trailing over the pictures in the file with disgust. "The school was probably his."

"But what's his endgame?" Morgan asked. "Most bombers like the attention they get from playing God. They don't go dormant, they strike again."

"So will this guy," Kate responded.

"No one's claimed responsibility for either attack," said Rossi. "That could point away from a fundamentalist or a fear driven offender."

JJ shrugged. "Maybe it's personal."

Hotch let out a small sigh. "We'll rely on divide and conquer. Victims, witnesses, and ballistics. See if we can find a pattern so we can prevent a third attack." He glanced up from his file. "Kate, JJ and Quinn, head to Allen Archer's house, he's the man who saved the pregnant woman from the bomb. Dave and Morgan go over to the neuroscience lab, see if you can find anything. Reid and I will head to the hospital."

-----

JJ peeled back the curtain of the Archer family's living room window. Her eyes scanned over the local reporters who had inhabited the front lawn, attempting to speak to Allen. "It looks like the media is scrambling for a sound bite from their local hero." JJ waltzed over to the couches and chairs where Allen and his wife Brenda sat, and where Kate and Quinn stood.

"Yeah, I don't know what all the fuss is about," Allen said humbly. "Anybody with half a right mind would have done the same thing."

His wife rubbed his arm. "But they didn't. You did." She turned to Kate. "How's the mother?"

"She went into labor," Callahan responded. "It's a boy."

Allen nodded with a small smile on his face. Quinn watched him, subtly pulling her eyebrows together as he watched Allen fiddle with his fingers. Was he nervous of the FBI? Was he hiding something?

"Was this a terrorist attack?" he questioned.

Kate swallowed. "I don't think we're classifying it as terrorism just yet."

JJ attempted to veer the conversation back on track. "So did you notice anything suspicious when you ran inside?" she inquired. "Anyone that didn't seem panicked?"

Allen shook his head. "No, no. Nothing like that." He wasn't lying.

"Did you see where the blast came from?" JJ asked.

"Um, there were two. I guess," he answered. Quinn pursed her lips at his vague answer. "When I ran in there, there was only a small fire. But then the back wall just exploded."

Quinn felt eyes on her, and she turned around to see Kate staring at her, silently cueing her to come to her. The girl listened to the conversation that JJ had with Allen, but focused on Kate.

Kate pointed to the shrine-like wall full of pictures and trophies of a navy seal. In one picture he stood with Brenda, Allen's wife now. She wore a wedding band around her finger, and Quinn glanced at the date that it was taken on. "Allen and Brenda got married in two thousand and twelve," Quinn whispered, remembering the file. "This picture was taken in two thousand-ten. Is this Brenda's first husband?"

Kate looked at the picture closer, face becoming blank as she sighed. "You seeing what I'm seeing?"

"That this is practically hero worship to Brenda's ex?" Quinn muttered, gaze on Callahan.

"Exactly," she replied, turning to face Allen and Brenda. "Who's the man in the photos?"

Brenda released her grip from Allen's arm. "That's my first husband, Grant. He was a navy seal. He died in Afghanistan."

"Were you all friends?" Quinn asked, watching Allen's posture go slightly rigid. It was difficult to see, but Quinn noticed the minuscule change in the man.

"Yeah," Brenda answered, smiling sweetly. "Allen introduced us." Allen fiddled with his hands more, glancing up at his wife and then down at his watch.

He quickly changed the subject saying, "It's, uh, it's almost three o'clock," he said. Quinn narrowed her eyes as Brenda nodded.

"I have to pick up Hannah," she told him.

"Yeah," Allen replied, looking around.

"It's our daughter," Brenda explained, getting up from the couch. Allen insisted that he go with his wife, so that she wouldn't have to fend off the reporters alone.

JJ smiled at the couple. "Oh, I uh, I think we can help you there."

-----

The three got back to the station, Kate and JJ glancing at Quinn in confusion. "You think he did something?" JJ asked about Allen Archer.

Quinn shrugged, sitting down at the large table the police station has offered them. "I'm not saying that he killed seven people. I'm just saying he seemed nervous. As if he were hiding something."

Kate nodded, seeing where she was coming from. "I mean, she's right. The shrine for the passed husband was a bit odd. And he was fidgeting with his hands a lot."

Quinn smiled at Kate. "You're getting good at picking up lies," she said, making Kate grinned proudly at her. The woman took a seat next to Quinn, staring out the window at the almost black, night sky.

Quinn sat back in her chair, attempting to recount the conversation with Archer. What was it about him that made her so unsure?

Hotch suddenly emerged into the room, Spencer and Derek following directly behind him. "Allen Archer just called the police station. His car's been rigged. There's a bomb attached to his engine and gas pedal. He's already enabled it."

The three women widened their eyes at the news, each of them jumping up. "What can we do?" JJ asked.

"We've assembled a bomb squad but they would arrive for another hour," Hotch responded, sliding his phone out of his pocket. "I'm going to send Reid and Morgan to the site and see what they can do."

Quinn cleared her throat. "Send me too," she insisted. Although she was focused on Hotch, she saw Spencer's eyes widen from the corner of her eye.

Hotch glanced at her steadily. "Carson, I'm not sure-"

"The Horsemen made bombs. They had me learn how to make them. That means if the bomb makeup is one that I'm familiar with, I can disarm it," Quinn tried.

Spencer shook his head. "Absolutely not."

Quinn furrowed her brow, looking slightly taken back by his statement. "What? Why not?"

"Because it's too dangerous," the genius protested. "Morgan is good with bombs, he's disarmed them before. We're not risking another team member getting hurt."

Quinn gaped at him. "Since when do you make the orders?"

"Carson, he's right," Hotch said. Quinn shut her mouth and bit the inside of her cheek. "Two people is enough. If this thing goes rogue, we don't want to claim another life."

Quinn's eyes flicked back and forth from face to face, from Spencer's pleading eyes to Hotch's stern expression. She nodded, stepping down from her protests and crossed her arms over her chest. "Please be careful," she whispered.

Morgan chuckled, smiling down at her and wrapping and arm around her shoulder. "You know we always are, Q."

She smiled softly at him, leaning her shoulder into his chest as he gave her a one-armed hug. She glanced up at Spencer. "You too," she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Spencer nodded, a tight-lipped grin falling across his face. "I promise," he told her, once again, making a promise to her. Quinn's smile became slightly bigger, as she heard his words.

Morgan removed his arm from her shoulders, making eye contact with Reid. "Let's head over to this bomb site," he said.

-----

this was so boring i'm so sorry i hate fillers so much

but school started for me today and i'm trying to get an update in before things start to get crazy !!

thank you for 9k that's so insane !!! you guys make me so happy i cri

love you all tons!
-mags