FIVE ; HELP.

QUINN SLEPT POORLY throughout the night. Her train of thought conducted it's own path, traveling at a speed that she simply could not keep up with. Her eyes opened and closed in uneven intervals, the red numbers on the clock beside her seeming to tick by slowly as the London rain fell outside.

It felt as if every time her gaze met the ceiling, she had a new worry. Kyle. The Horsemen. The BAU team. The genius on her couch.

He'd changed since she had seen him last. His hair had gotten longer. He slouched a bit more, as if he had the weight of the weight of the world upon his shoulders. The spark of light she had often seen in his eyes had faded to cloud the pain he undoubtedly felt. It hadn't been completely extinguished, but it took a bit more effort to ignite the flame she had known so well.

Quinn lifted her head from her pillow, positioning herself against her headboard. She pulled her knees against her chest, releasing a heavy sigh as she did so. There was a soft crack of thunder, the clouds resting peacefully soon-there-after. There was no movement, no sound. There was peace in every area except in her mind.

Why would Kyle come back now? Why now? What was so significant that he had to return two years later?

She found herself leaving her bed a moment later. Her feet padded against the floor of her apartment as she quietly opened her bedroom door, careful not to wake the presumably sleeping doctor. Her eyes scanned over his figure as she walked by, smiling softly as she saw him fast asleep, features relaxed, the corner of his lips quirked upward the slightest amount.

Spencer had plagued her most recent thoughts. She knew that he didn't despise her. He had hated what she'd done, but not her. She knew that he had been torn apart by what had happened. Finding out that she was alive had shaken him. She understood.

Quinn also knew that whatever she had felt for Spencer two years ago had returned. It was rearing it's head in the ugliest of ways. The feeling churned her stomach as she opened her cupboard, pulling a glass down from the shelf.

What she didn't know however, was whether or not he felt the same way. He may not have hated her, but that didn't mean that he shared the feelings that she did.

Thunder shook the small apartment, the sound surprising Quinn so severely that she dropped the glass in her hand. She swore quietly, grimacing as she heard Spencer shoot up from the sofa.

"Quinn?" he asked, his panic hiding the sleep in his voice. "Quinn, where are you?"

"I'm in here," she muttered, flicking on the light switch beside her, looking at the shattered glass splayed across the floor in distaste.

"Did you break something?" he asked, voice growing louder as he got closer.

She sighed, not facing him as she opened a closet door to retrieve a dust pan. "Yes," she replied, not masking the annoyance in her tone. She turned to him, voice nearly catching in her throat as he rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. "Let me help," he offered, stepping toward the mess.

Quinn shook her head. "I'll be okay, Spence. It's just a little glass."

"There's a lot of pieces," he responded, already kneeling down to assist her. Quinn caught his eye briefly, quickly looking away. "I can help."

"Please, go back to sleep. You need it. I can see it in your eyes."

Their gazes met again. This time, he held it as he spoke. "I'm helping you, Quinn," he stated, confused as to why she was being so stubborn about something a simply as a glass. He looked away from her. "I'm always going to be there to help you." His voice was so quiet she nearly missed it.

Quinn didn't speak for a moment. She felt his eyes on her as she stared intently at the mess she had made. "It's a shame," she mumbled. "I liked this glass."

"You can try to piece it back together," he offered. Quinn nearly chuckled, but stopped herself as she saw how serious his expression was. "It'll be difficult, but it's manageable."

Quinn scrunched her eyebrows, suppressing a smile. "It's completely shattered. There's no fixing it."

"You can try," Spencer repeated, gaze focused on the small pieces of glass he was picking up. "And you can do it. I mean, it's not going to be easy." Quinn watched him carefully, unsure of where he was going to take this conversation. "But if you try hard enough, you'll be able to make something that resembles what it was. It's never going to be the original, it's never going to be the way that it was before the break." His eyes met hers. "But it's going to be something with the same purpose and value. The cracks will add to it's history," he said, "and will create something even more beautiful."

She knew that he was no longer talking about the glass. Her breathing was shaky, eyes beginning to water. "I don't think that I can put it back together on my own."

A ghost of a smile graced his lips. "I suppose that's where I come in."

Quinn's bottom lip quivered. She bit it to stop the shaking, blinking away the tears she knew would fall. She didn't deserve him. She couldn't form words, her breath catching in her throat. She simply nodded, bowed her head, then closed her eyes for a moment.

Spencer knew. He knew her well. He shifted from his position across from her to be next to her. He placed his arm around her shoulders, letting Quinn collapse into him, a shuttering breath leaving his lips as he listened to her quiet cries. His other hand found hers, lacing his fingers with hers.

"Nothing's ever broken, Quinn," he whispered. "Especially not you. Never you."

Quinn simply squeezed his hand tighter.

-----

A GASP LEFT Quinn's lips as she opened her eyes to see the numbers on the clock beside her. She was late. God, was she late. She shot out of bed, running into the other room to wake Spencer.

She stopped in her tracks as she saw that the genius was in fact awake, a mug of coffee on the table before him, fingers maneuvering over the purple tie around his neck. He was relaxed. Quinn furrowed her brow.

He nearly laughed as he met her gaze. He recognized the look of confusion on her face, shaking his head as her slightly panicked stance contrasted his eased movements. "Emily doesn't want us in until ten," he told her, watching as she grew even more confused. "She told me to tell you not to get used to the extra hours of sleep, but she decided that you deserved them."

"And you?" Quinn asked, running her fingers through her hair. "Why haven't you been called in?"

Spencer grinned. "I have halfway decent persuasion skills," he replied, chuckling as Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you say," she said, suppressing a smile as she heard him gasp softly. "You made coffee?"

"I can be persuasive!" he protested, lips forming into a slight pout. "I persuaded Morgan into letting me into that basketball-bracket-thing the March that you were with us!"

Quinn squinted at him as she recalled the memory. "Was that when he refused to talk to you for days?"

He nodded, a proud smile stretching across his face. "It took him a week to figure out that I was hustling him."

Quinn laughed softly, fingers wrapping around the mug of coffee that she had just poured. "How is he, by the way?" she questioned, bringing the cup to her lips. "Emily told me that he left a couple months ago after the Sandman thing."

Spencer's smile turned somber. "He's doing well, actually. He and Savannah got married and had a son."

Quinn widened her eyes in surprise as she grinned. "No way," she said, jaw dropping slightly. "That's amazing! What's his name?"

She watched as the light came back into his eyes. "Hank Spencer Morgan." Quinn placed her hand over her mouth. He couldn't mask the pride he felt. "I'm his godfather."

"That's amazing, Spencer," she told him honestly, smiling wide. Her eyes shifted down to the coffee in her hands. "I can't believe I missed it."

His smile was replaced by a frown. "Quinn-"

"Does he know?" she asked, eyes meeting his once more.

"About The Horsemen or you?"

Quinn shrugged half-heartedly. "Either."

Spencer sighed. "He knows about The Horsemen," he began. "I can't say that he knows about you Quinn."

She bit her lip, nodding softly. He was going to hate her. She knew he was.

"He's volunteered to return to help," Spencer stated. "He wants to help us catch them if we take this back to Quantico." He shrugged. "We'll fly him in if the case stays here."

Quinn nodded, jaw clenched. She hated the situation she was in. She would be Quinn Carson again. Katherine Croft would be gone. She wouldn't be safe anymore.

The Horsemen were unpredictable. Quinn feared for the impact of the superior Horsemen, as the first team had brought the country so much trouble. If they were as powerful as Kyle had made them out to be two years ago, then there were some major challenges afoot. They needed to be ready for anything.

"They're planning what they're going to do, right?" she asked quietly, watching as Spencer raised his brows. "That's why Emily didn't make me come into the office, right? Because they don't want to plan what's going to happen with The Horsemen in front of me?"

Spencer's expression faltered, a sigh escaping his lips. Quinn nodded once more, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought. "You've become even more intuitive in the last couple of years," he praised, groaning slightly as she caught on. "I didn't think that it was possible."

Despite her nerves, Quinn felt her cheeks tint pink. "I'm good at my job," she mumbled. Her fingers ran through her hair again.

Spencer noticed these nervous ticks, frowning deeply. "I know you are," he responded, swallowing as they met eyes. "I am too," he stated. "So is JJ. So is Prentiss. Garcia. Hotch. Rossi. Alvez. Lewis. Morgan." Quinn watched him as he listed his teammates curiously. "We're all good at our job, Quinn. We know what we're doing. We know how to catch The Horsemen and put them away for good. We're going to be okay." And, for the first time in two years, he said two words to her that meant so much more. "I promise."

Quinn cursed herself for being so emotional, feeling her eyes begin to water. "You and your promises," she whispered, smiling sadly at him. It was soft, somber. Spencer felt his chest tighten.

"I don't break them," he replied, voice just as soft. "Not if it's in my power."

She didn't deserve him. She didn't.

Quinn went to speak, ready to tell him all of the things that had been swirling in her mind since he had arrived, but was interrupted by the ringing of a cellphone. Her voice caught in her throat, the unspoken words crashing down on her as he turned to reach his phone. He placed it to his ear, gaze flashing to Quinn as he spoke.

"Now?" he asked. Quinn felt her stomach churn as she saw Spencer go pale. "They what?" His voice was near a yell. "How do they-" He stopped speaking suddenly, running a hand down his face. "Okay, Hotch. We'll be there soon."

As soon as he hung up the phone, Quinn asked in a shaky voice, "What happened?"

She knew that it wasn't anything good as he avoided eye contact. "It's The Horsemen," he said, voice low, unnerving. "They sent out another message." He clenched his jaw. "Just to us."

"W-what did it say?" she stammered. Spencer's eyes flashed to her fingers wrapped around her coffee mug, grimacing as he saw that they had began tapping in the one-two-one pattern he knew by heart.

"They, uh-" Spencer met her eyes again, looking as if he were ready to fall apart in seconds. "They know that you're alive, Quinn."

Quinn let a second cup fall out of her hands and shatter against the ground.

-----

if this story seems kind of all over the place, i apologize. i'm still trying to figure out some minor details within the plot. please don't hate me for this being as sloppy as it is !

anyway i'm sorry if this chapter was boring i needed a bit of a filler to move it to the next part of the story !

love you all tons !! (oh and thank you for nearly 10k on this story y'all are crazy)
-mags