forewarning: this chapter contains extremely vague season 10 spoilers. you may have already heard about it, but i am just warning you to continue at you own risk. continue !
SEVENTEEN ; PLAYING WITH SPIRITS.
A sigh left the lips of a drained Quinn Carson, her eyes falling closed and head aching. A novel that Spencer had given her was placed open on her stomach, her torso acting as a bookmark as she laid on the couch in her apartment.
The girl had been feverish all day, coming down with a nasty case of the flu the night before. This was the first time she had been sick in years and she was not happy about being able to remember how it felt.
She had called in sick that morning, Hotch informing her that the team had a potential case that he recommended staying home from. Quinn wondered whether or not this case was connected to The Horsemen, but by the somberness in her boss's voice, she could tell that it was rather personal. With a 'good luck' from Quinn and a 'get well soon' from Hotch, the two hung up and Quinn quickly fell back to sleep.
Weeks had passed from her large panic attack and small spat with Spencer, and things had been going well for the brunette. Hotch had informed her that Kyle was to be put on trial (three weeks from today), for his downgrade of accessory to murder, hopefully gaining him less time in prison. The emails from Lawrence became less frequent. As unnerving as they were, she began to ignore them. It became easier as she found friends in her team. They had all warmed to her, often asking for tips for their interrogations when necessary. Kate Callahan had gotten quite good, if Quinn did say so herself.
A small smile came to her lips as she laid on her couch. She had almost forgotten what it was like to have people who she truly enjoyed being around.
She opened her eyes and her gaze fell on the empty coffee cup from the evening before. It had become a weekly occurrence for her and Spencer to leave after work to get a cup of coffee from Ralph's store. They often closed the shop, Ralph occasionally joining in on their conversations. Quinn grew to adore the man. He was brilliant; he loved literature and music, and had a peaked interest in conspiracy theories, the girl learning to enjoy them as well. He always insisted they take home extra pastries so he wouldn't have to throw them away.
Quinn grew to adore Spencer Reid as well. Five and a half months (Five months and nineteen days according to the genius) had passed since they had first met and the two continued to grow closer each day. The team caught onto their blossoming friendship, often teasing the two by telling them to stop 'flirting', resulting in both the doctor and the girl blushing heavily.
It was one in the morning and although Quinn was exhausted, she couldn't seem to fall back to sleep. She had been switching between snoozing, watching television and attempting to eat without the food coming back up. She shifted her position, grabbing her phone from beside her and sliding it open.
The screen showed her calling list, Alex Blake's contact appearing after Hotch's. The two had talked the day before, Quinn needing someone to talk to about her thoughts that wasn't on the team and wasn't going to avidly worry about her. Quinn liked to think of Blake as her unofficial therapist, the girl periodically contacting the older woman to speak to her about her nerves, like Blake had told her to months ago. She was kind and was a welcome listener, something Quinn was grateful for.
Just as Quinn's eyes began to droop, her scrolling slowing, the phone in her hand began to vibrate. She blinked and cleared her vision, furrowing her brow as she saw Spencer's name appear on her screen. She slid her finger to her right, placing her device against her ear. "Spencer? What's wrong?"
"I hope I'm not waking you," he replied quickly. Quinn stiffened as she heard him sniffle, his voice cracking on the last syllable. "God, I'm an idiot, you're sick. I shouldn't be calling you this late-"
"Spencer, it's okay, I wasn't asleep," she said, sitting up against the arm of her couch, suddenly wide awake. "What happened? Are you hurt? Did someone get hurt?"
She heard him let out a soft, choked sob. "No, no," he whispered. "I'm okay. Everyone's fine."
"Then what happened? Why are you crying?" she asked. Quinn felt her heart begin to accelerate, expecting the worst.
"I just-" His voice broke, the sound becoming distant. "The case we're on, it's for an old team member." Quinn let out a sigh of relief, pulling the phone away from her ear so that Spencer couldn't hear her. She felt for him, she did, but she was grateful that it wasn't someone who was currently apart of the group. "They just confirmed that he was gone and I-I just, ran out of there. I couldn't deal with it. He was my mentor and someone who I looked up to for years. I'm having trouble processing this."
Quinn felt a piece of her heart crack. "Spencer, I'm so sorry." She was at a loss of what to say. Consoling people wasn't exactly a strength of hers.
"I'm sorry I called," he said. She pictured him shaking his head, tears welled up in his eyes. "I just, uh, I just needed to hear your voice, y'know? Everyone's here but you and-"
"Don't you dare apologize," she told him. "Is there anything I can do?"
She heard something rub up against the other line. He had probably shaken his head. "Just keep talking, please? I need to get my mind off of this, get back to normal."
"O-Okay," Quinn stammered, shifting in her seat, thinking of something to tell the genius. "Uh, did I ever tell you the story about my eleventh grade roommate at a camp I went to?"
She heard Spencer clear his throat. "No, I don't believe you have."
Quinn chuckled to herself. "Well, in eleventh grade, my parents sent me to this camp in the woods for three weeks. We all had cabins that we were assigned to. There were about eight of us in a cabin, and the girl in the bunk on top of mine was a bit off. She had traveled from Seattle to New Hampshire and had never seen an Oak Tree in real life before. So, naturally, she became utterly obsessed with acorns." Quinn heard Spencer chuckle from the other end, a good sign in her book. "This obsession became so large that she began to collect them. She had gathered about a hundred of them and hid them under her pillow."
"So one night, we all go to bed, like, it's lights out for the entire camp. I roll over in my bunk and I open my eyes for a second to see that she's hanging down from above me, this giant smile on her face. So, I jump and she apologizes for scaring me. She then proceeds to give me a handful of acorns and says, 'I want you to come with me'. I ask her where, and her grin gets wider and she says, 'I want you to help me plant these. I want to grow some trees, right now'." Spencer began laughing and Quinn joined him. "So I'm like, 'No Denise, just go to sleep' and she gets extremely angry with me, literally flies off of her bunker and goes outside to plant her acorns," Quinn finished, closing her eyes as she recounted the memory. "The entire cabin was watching her planting acorns in the dark and none of us knew what to do."
Spencer's laughs subsided, his sniffling becoming lesser. He sighed before saying, "Denise was actually correct in her choice to plant, though. Acorns actually do sprout Oak Trees, but immediate planting is limited to the white oak species group including white, bur, chestnut and swamp oak. Red oak species group acorns must be planted in the second season, which is actually the following spring. But keeping them under her pillow wasn't a wise decision because acorns lose their ability to germinate if they dry out." He paused for a moment, both lines of the conversation silent. "Is it bad to say I'm actually interested to see if Denise's acorns actually sprouted?"
Quinn snickered, smile broadening. "There he is," she said softly.
"Thank you," he told her. "I know you're sick. I just needed to talk to someone that wasn't here. I needed to talk to you. Thank you for that."
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I can tell he meant a lot to you."
She heard a harsh breath escape his lips. "Yeah, he was the best."
"Call me if you need to," Quinn offered, feeling the conversation come to a close. "I'll be here. Throwing up my left lung."
Spencer chuckled. "Don't say that, you're going to make me worry about you," he responded. Quinn smiled to herself. "I'll talk to you later, Quinn."
"It's going to be okay, Spence," she assured him, the nickname rolling off of her tongue. She'd only ever heard JJ call him that, but for some reason, tonight, it seemed fitting.
Spencer thought the same thing. "See you soon," he said.
"See you soon," she replied, ending the call with a heavy heart. She laid back down onto the couch, eyes open and staring at the ceiling.
She reached towards the coffee table next to the sofa, grabbing her laptop. She unlocked it, scrolling through websites with the touchpad at her fingertips for a while. She pondered watching a show, but rejected the idea, seeing as she'd probably fall asleep during it.
Before she closed the laptop, she noticed the open tab with a notification next to it. The Horsemen's email. Lawrence had messaged again.
With a deep breath, she clicked onto the page, her heart beginning to pound. The email sat in her inbox, awaiting for someone to open it. Her finger pressed down onto it. She closed her eyes.
When they reopened, she was puzzled as she read through the code.
I D A S K D R S P E N C E R R E I D W H A T T H E W O R D
Z U G Z W A N G M E A N S T O H I M
-J.L
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Three days had passed and the team had finally finished the case, catching the man who had killed the past BAU member. Kate had been updating Quinn on everything that was going on, telling her how the team was handling the situation, asking everyone was doing emotionally. Spencer had called her once, not in tears, yet not in a stable condition. The two talked for a hour, Quinn attempting to keep his mind off of the man who had left him for good.
Quinn exited her apartment complex, a bag clutched in her hand. Hotch had assigned her a large amount of paperwork that needed to be done before the end of the week. The girl had been lazy and put off going down to Quantico until almost ten at night. She prayed the place was still open.
Lawrence's email had not settled well with her. She had looked up the word 'Zugzwang' after she had read it. It was often used in chess and Quinn couldn't help but wonder two things; one, what significant meaning the words held to Spencer, two, how Lawrence knew about it.
Sure, the man was known for his resources and his ability to know practically everything about someone without even physically meeting them, but inside jail? How was he gaining this information to scare Quinn?
She shivered as she pulled the door open to the building, scanning her pass as she walked through the second entrance. The security guard nodded at her as she passed through, a tired smile shared between the two acquaintances. Her eyes averted to look in front of her, gaze meeting David Rossi's as he walked towards her.
"What are you doing here so late?" she asked him.
"I could ask you the same question," he replied, eyebrows raised. "But, if you have to know, I was finishing a case file that took way longer than expected. Your turn."
Quinn shrugged. "I've got some paperwork to pick up. Put it off until now."
"That's right, how are you feeling?"
"A lot better," she responded with a smile. "It was strange, I never get sick."
Rossi nodded, chuckling softly. "Can I ask you a favor?" Quinn cocked her head slightly, cueing the man to continue. "Boy Wonder is is still upstairs. He's really bent out of shape about our old team member. I've told him to head home, but I have a very good feeling that he's not going anywhere. Could you maybe try to convince him to get some sleep? The kid's exhausted, and he listens to you most of the time."
Quinn snickered to herself, nodding at Rossi. "Yeah, I'll talk to him." Rossi smiled at her, a silent thanks. "Night, Rossi."
"Night, Carson," he replied, patting her on the back softly. Quinn sent one last grin to her teammate before heading toward the elevator, which quickly took her to the BAU's floor.
Quinn's shoes padded against the tile, eyes finding Spencer pulling off his sweater and glancing down at a chess board. As he walked away from his desk, Quinn opened the door. His head snapped up at the sound, stance relaxing as he saw who had entered.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her, a genuinely confused look on his face.
Quinn neared him. "Hotch assigned me work to do that I put off," she explained, bobbing her head towards her desk that had papers stacked on it. "I decided I was feeling well enough to come grab it." Spencer nodded, eyes flashing down towards the ground. "How're you doing?" she asked him.
"I'm better," he answered. Quinn was able to catch the lie before he even opened his mouth. He glanced up at her when he realized his mistake, then rephrased his sentence. "I'm getting there." He narrowed his eyes at her. "You talked to Rossi, didn't you?"
Quinn shrugged at him. "I spoke with him. He was leaving when I came in." Spencer nodded, his arms crossing over his chest, nose quickly twitching upward. She looked at him- really looked at him. He had small bags under his eyes, his hair was frayed in every direction, his eyes telling Quinn just how not-okay he was. She sighed. "You're not going home tonight, are you Spencer?"
His arms dropped and he let out a breath. "No." Quinn nodded, wandering over to her desk. "Where are you going?" he asked, watching her as she walked away. Quinn didn't respond, simply sitting down in her chair and placing a packet of papers in front of her. "Quinn, what are you doing?"
"Paperwork," she replied, not glancing up. Spencer looked at her astounded.
"What? Do you know how late it is?"
"You're not leaving, so I'm staying too," she said defiantly. The doctor gaped at her. The two finally met eyes. "Spence, I'm not leaving you alone like this."
He folded his arms over his chest. "Quinn, I'm not four years old, I can take care of myself."
"It'll be like I'm not even here," she responded nonchalantly. "I'll do paperwork and you continue with playing yourself in chess."
"Quinn-"
"Spencer," she countered, the genius rolling his eyes at her. She remained unfazed. "If you're not going to do it for you, do it for me. It'll make me feel better."
Spencer fought a grin that was about to emerge. "I think you've grown more stubborn from when I first met you."
Quinn shrugged. "I've become more comfortable with my surroundings and with who I am," she answered as if it were no big deal. This time, Spencer did smile at her.
"Alright, fine," he agreed. Quinn beamed as she watched him go to the coffee machine in the corner of the room and pour two mugs, adding in an excessive amount of sugar in one, only cream in the other.
He waltzed back over to where she sat, placing a red mug before her. She glanced up at him from her papers. "Thank you," she said, putting the mug up to her lips and watching him walk to a desk diagonal from hers. "I still can't process how you drink that with that much sugar."
"It's the way I've always done it," Spencer replied, shrugging. He looked at her. "And I didn't agree to let you stay here for you to pick on me for my coffee habits again."
Quinn huffed with a scowl, bringing the cup to her mouth once more. He laughed to himself, looking away from Quinn as he focused on the chess board before him.
And the two sat in silence, no words spoken, only the sound of a pen writing upon paper and a chess piece being moved. They occasionally snuck glances at each other, sometimes meeting eyes, other times simply watching the other work.
A custodian entered, worked, and left. The hands on the clock that hung on the wall moved in a circle. Time passed for the seemingly abandoned building and the two people on the sixth floor.
The quiet was broken as Spencer spoke. "Thank you," he whispered, not looking up from his board. "It really means a lot to me that you stayed. You've been so great to me in the months I've known you. So, thank you for-" He glanced up to look her in the eye, but paused when his gaze landed on her. "-everything," he finished, smiling fondly at Quinn's fast asleep figure on the desk. Her head was leaning into her arm against the stack of files, the pen resting in her limp right hand. Spencer chuckled to himself, sighing as he watched Quinn for a moment.
He then rolled his chair back and stood up. The genius grabbed the sweater he had hung on the back of his chair and rounded the desks that divided him and Quinn, lightly placing the sweater around her shoulders as if it were a blanket.
Spencer smiled down at her, shaking his head softly and walking back to him desk. He sat back down in his seat, and with one last look at the girl diagonal from him, he continued to play chess, as if he were playing against the ghost of his recently passed friend.
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i was so unsure of how to write this chapter bc it's kind of a filler but i wanted it to fit in with the season so this is what you get!! i hope it was ok
also ! i've recently published an mgg social media fic that is based on the characters in this story. like, i've got jenna coleman playing my oc who plays 'quinn carson', a new character in criminal minds. i've got sebastian stan playing kyle masters as well, so the mcu is included in the fic too, which is always fun to write. so check it out if you'd like, it's called 'euphoria' and i hope you like it!
love you all tons.
-mags