TWENTY THREE ; COULDN'T EVEN DETECT-

It wasn't unusual for there to be tension laced within events of a case. Everyone was always on edge, never knowing when they'd find something that could turn the investigation on it's tail, never knowing if they were going to solve the mystery in time to save the victim.

This case was no exception.

If the team's suspicions were correct, they couldn't trust the people that were supposed to be on their side. They had to be aware of who they were talking to and what they were telling them. They had to be aware of the mass mutiny that could ensue. They had to be aware of the notorious and famous member of the Horsemen lurking in the halls of the prison.

The room that the team had been placed in only seemed to get smaller as they dug deeper into this case. All the boards had photos tacked to them, files splayed across the tables of the room. Quinn's index finger tapped against her thigh as she flipped through papers beside Kate, listening to Derek spew his concerns to Hotch. "There's a couple more guys we should talk to," he told his unit chief who continued to pin photos to the bulletin board. "So far no one knows anything, and if they do, they're just not talking."

"Maybe this has nothing to do with gang-related activity," Aaron mused as he turned to face his team.

"One thing they all have in common is no love for Hightower or Rivers," said Kate.

Quinn nodded in agreement. "His voice had a teasing tone until he spoke about those two," she noted. "Pure hatred after that."

"This could be personal." Morgan shrugged leaning against the table that Kate and Quinn sat at. "Maybe someone had a beef with those two."

The girl's eyes followed Hotch as he neared Spencer who was intently scanning the piles of files that had stacked up on the table at which he was stationed. "We need to complete our profiles. The answer's in there," he told the genius. He motioned to the files. "How much time do you need?"

Spencer's brow furrowed, gaze flicking up from the papers before him and calculating the time that it would take. "Uh-" he shuffled through the files, sighing, "a hundred and twenty-six minutes, approximately?"

"Hurry," Hotch directed him, turning to Morgan as the man spoke up.

"We should go help finish those interviews," he said, hands on his hips. Kate nodded in agreement, motioning to Quinn to follow. She let out a light-hearted groan, making the woman grin softly.

"I'll join you in a minute," Hotch replied, turning to leave the room. "But first I'm going to go outside and check in with Garcia." The team went their separate ways, Morgan, Callahan and Quinn walking in silence down the hall. All that was heard were the quiet sounds of the prison systems working.

Derek and Kate exchanged a knowing glance as they walked in front of Quinn, Kate's eyes traveling back to her. Quinn scrunched her brows together, unsure of what to think of the conversation that was about to occur. They pulled Quinn in between them, smirks written across their faces as they looked down at her.

"You going to tell us how your date went?" Morgan asked, one eyebrow raised.

Quinn's breath caught in her throat, abruptly coughing as they continued to walk through the halls. Their smiles only grew. "Garcia already told you about that?" she asked, pretending that she was unaware of their knowledge of the subject.

"Q, she texted us as soon as she left your damn apartment," he responded, nudging her with his elbow. Quinn let out a soft groan and shut her eyes. "So how was it?"

"Is this really the most appropriate place to be talking about this?" Quinn asked. She refused to make eye contact with either of them.

Kate chuckled. "We've been wanting to discuss this with you since you two showed up to work last night," she said. "Spill."

"We just had dinner," she dismissed.

"Where?" questioned Derek.

Quinn braced from the harassment she was about to ensue. "His apartment?" The answer left her mouth as a question.

Both Kate and Derek widened their eyes, gaping at her. "He finally showed you the Fortress of Solitude?" Kate inquired, voice on the brink of a squeal.

"Damn, he really is serious about this," she heard Morgan mutter to himself. Quinn sighed heavily.

"It's not that big of a deal," she tried.

"It is too a big deal," he stated, tone slightly disbelieving. "He asked you out, Quinn. He hasn't done that to any girl for two years."

Quinn felt two conflicting emotions bubble up within her. One was sympathy, and it tugged at her heart strings, feeling awful as she knew what the man had gone through. The other however, contradicted it. It was a sense of pride or accomplishment. Though she couldn't figure out which one, the idea of her being the first in two years make her lips stretch into a small smile.

"I'm going to sound way too much like my thirteen year old right now, but," Kate began, eyes meeting Quinn's, "do you feel the same way? Do you like him back?"

A blush rose to her cheeks as she felt herself suddenly become bashful. As she opened her mouth to speak, an officer came bounding to them, telling the three that their convict was prepared to be questioned. Quinn let out a quiet sigh of relief, thanking the guard and looking back at her teammates.

"We're not finished with this," Morgan said, pointing a finger her way. Quinn looked at him with a grin, not speaking as she followed the officer.

Kate looked up at Derek as they slowly walked to the interrogation room. "Do you really think something's going to happen between them?" she asked.

Morgan let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. A smile tugged at his lips. "Callahan," he replied quietly, "I think something already has."

-----

Quinn's feet padded against the tile of the prison, her shoes tapping on the floor as she walked. She had diverged from the group momentarily, stepping outside of the interrogation room to clear her mind.

It was overwhelming; everything about this case was. The team had just been alerted that there was another murder. She didn't know which of her police counterparts she could trust. She wasn't sure who was responsible for all of the murders around the jail. She couldn't figure out any motive behind killing these guards. It was impossible to tell whether or not she would run into the man she knew so well.

The one thing that she was sure of however, was that everyone in this prison knew who she was. They all knew well.

She sighed and ran a hand down her face, grimacing as she rolled her head to crack it. She leaned against the brick of the abandoned hall and closed her eyes. Her mind rested for a moment.

"Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to do anything to better you," a voice said.

Quinn went rigid. The hairs that laid upon her skin stood on end as a chill went down her spine.

Her eyes shot open and fell on the place where the voice had come from. At the far end of the hall sat a small cell, one that was visible from where she leaned. She watched as a figure emerged from the shaded darkness of the dimly lit cell and gripped his fingers around the bars that enclosed him.

She had to wander to this hallway. Just her luck.

Quinn turned away, ready to run and never look back. Nelson laughed to himself as he watched her. It made her blood boil.

"I honestly thought I'd never see you again," he taunted, reaching his arms out through the slits of the bars. "Well, alive at least. I always had this fantasy that I'd see you with a bullet through your skull after I pulled the trigger."

Quinn couldn't speak. It were as if she had been transported back to where she resided six months ago, in one of the Horsemen's various bunkers. Nelson was in her head again, his voice tunneling it's way into his brain and digging a hole she soon wouldn't forget.

"I did miss our one-sided conversations," he mocked, leaning his forehead on the bars.

No response left her lips. She stood in that hallway, frozen. Her mind challenged itself, the thoughts opposing forces, one telling her to retaliate, the other persuading her to walk away.

Nelson sighed. "Why are you here anyway?" he asked. "How are you here?"

"I'm with my team," she replied. Her voice was quiet. Nelson had to strain to hear it. When he did, however, he laughed humorlessly.

"So not only did you betray us, you're working with the enemy?" Though his tone was joking, Quinn was able to detect the disdain hidden beneath. "He knew this would happen. He saw this coming."

Quinn didn't have to ask who he was referring to. She knew.

"Weak," he spat. "We knew that you'd trade us out for them. We knew you'd give in."

Her hand clenched into a fist. She turned to him. "They offered me a deal," she began, voice stronger than before. "Either I go to jail or work with them. I did what any of you would."

"Don't try to distance yourself from us, using that word," he hissed, smiling hastily at her. "It's not you, it's us. No matter how many pity offers you take doesn't make you any less of one of us. You can't get rid of us."

"Pity offers?" she questioned. Her mind told her not to ask, but she couldn't help herself.

Nelson smirked, shaking his head in what looked like disbelief. "You don't actually believe they gave you that job because you deserved it, do you?" Quinn felt her breath catch in her throat. "Do you know how many other people around the world are more qualified, more talented and less damaged than you are? The only reason that they gave it to you, Quinn Carson, is because they felt bad for you." He shrugged, as if he had just told her a simple fact. "A poor girl who was kidnapped and 'forced' to be apart of a group of killers gives the government the answers to finding her counterparts. They're thankful and feel pity. Nothing more, nothing less."

Her stomach churned. She couldn't let Nelson get in her head again. She knew his talent, she knew his antics, she knew how he worked and what he was about. Mind games were his specialty. It came in good use when training the members for interrogations. She couldn't let him get to her. She couldn't let him ruin the only thing she knew for sure about herself; her job.

"T-that's, that's n-not true-" Her stammering was cut off by an abrupt laugh.

"Carson, you couldn't even detect the-" He stopped suddenly mid-sentence. His eyes widened slightly, stiffening as his gaze stayed on Quinn. The girl furrowed her brow, nearing closer to the cell. She tilted her head to the side in question, mind spinning as she tried to figure out what Nelson was to say. He shook his head, dismissing his last comment as if he had never said it. "There are obvious things that you haven't even able to detect. You're not as talented as you believe you are."

Quinn clenched her jaw, feeling anger bubble up inside of her. She couldn't hide any more. She couldn't tolerate one of the men who had tormented her for years speaking to her like this any longer. There had to be an end, for her sake at least.

She narrowed her eyes, approaching the cell Lucas Nelson was secured in, mustering up every ounce of confidence she had in her body. "S-so what if it was a 'pity offer'?" she asked, looking him directly in the eye. "So what if I'm not as talented as I believe I am? That doesn't change the fact that you're going to rightfully rot in that cell for the rest of your life while I finally live the life that you stole from me."

Nelson seemed stunned by her response, unable to comprehend that she had retaliated to him. Quinn pushed away the pride she felt.

The moment didn't last long. Nelson raised a brow and leaned further into the bars. "No you're not."

Quinn scowled at him. "What?"

"No, you're not," he repeated, now emphasizing his words. "You really believe that everything's going to go back to normal? That you're gonna go back to being that naive little lawyer that you were before the Horsemen? No matter how hard you try to convince yourself, you didn't beat us, Carson. You didn't outsmart us, you didn't win."

"I did-"

"You didn't win," he repeated, "You didn't win because you're always going to be apart of the Horsemen. You're always going to be one of us. You know why?" He grinned manically, eyes crinkling. "Because you won't be able to shake us from your head. We're always going to be apart of your life, apart of your thought process, apart of you," he stated, smile widening as he saw Quinn's eyes become worried at his words. "You're always going to be one of us, Carson. A criminal. A bad guy. A Horseman."

Quinn tried her best not to stumble away from him. She felt her hands begin to shake, and her head spun. He words implanted themselves in her brain.

He was right. He was right.

She couldn't speak. She glared at Nelson, shaking her head as she walked away from him, his laughter becoming quieter as her feet took her down the abandoned hallway and into the main corridor of the prison.

Her breathing was uneven, chest heaving up and down. She placed her hands over her mouth, attempting to calm herself down. Nelson was right.

She slid down the wall, eyes clenching shut. She heard her name being called from the left of her. The footsteps quickly became louder as the person ran toward her. She recognized the voice as Aaron Hotchner's but did not open her eyes. She couldn't. She heard him say the words, 'get Reid'.

Things seemed to speed up. She listened Aaron's voice in her ear, more calm than she had ever heard it. The words he spoke were jumbled together. She couldn't focus on them. All she could think about was Nelson.

A hand was placed on her knee, making Quinn jump recoil slightly. The voice spewed apologies, speaking to her in a hushed tone. She seemed to relax as she released who was in front of her. Spencer.

He noticed her subtle decrease in heaving, a worried expression written over his face. He coaxed her out of the trance she was in, his voice breaking through the taunts of Lucas Nelson that replayed through her mind. Spencer didn't have to ask Quinn what this sudden panic was about. He knew. "Slow down," he said quietly. "In and out. In and out." As Quinn's breathing became lighters he smiled. "There you go. Just keep breathing. You're okay."

It could have continued for minutes. Though Spencer was exactly sure how long it took for Quinn to calm herself down, but when her eyes opened and met his, he forgot everything. He gave her a soft smile, eyes flicking down toward where her hand laid. He reached for it, intertwining his fingers in hers. The pad of his thumb reached the back of her hand. He began tapping softly, that one-two-one pattern, speaking quietly to her.

All that Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan and Kate Callahan could do was watch in awe.

-----

this was one of the shortest chapters i've written in a while yikes

i just love writing this story it makes me so happy sigh

thank you for all the recent reads and feedback and such! it makes me cry every time i get a new notif for this story ugh

OH AND THANK YOU FOR ALMOST 20K WHAT KIND OF JOKE IS THIS ??

love you all tons.
-mags