1 | TREPIDATION. [SPENCER REID]

FOURTEEN.

FOURTEEN ; GHOSTS.

Quinn awoke in a cold sweat that night.

The nightmares Spencer spoke of. They had begun.

Trembling hands clutched to the sheets of her bed as she clenched her eyes shut and bowed her head. They weren't here. It was just a dream. It was all in her head.

No matter how many times Quinn Carson repeated those words to herself, the tremors did not stop. Her past days haunted her, replaying in her mind like a broken record.

Those words didn't work for one reason; her nightmares, the true ones she feared, were real. They lied in prison, held captive by the government, awaiting the day their punishment was to arrive. They were The Horsemen, and they were very much alive.

How strange it is to be haunted by someone who is still living.

Quinn no longer feared ghosts. She knew them. She was one; she was the ghost of her old self, trying so hard to revive herself back to the person she once was. Ghosts, she decided, were not something to be afraid of. They were much less frightening than live people.

A labored breath escaped her lips. She looked at the digital clock beside her, the time flashing the numbers 3:23 at her. Quinn inwardly groaned, laying back down upon the mattress and staring up at the blank ceiling. The dark of the room contrasted to the white above her, letting Quinn see it ever so slightly.

Her breathing slowed as she listened to the silence of her room. There were no hysterical women, no screams of agony or orders to be heard. She was not returning. She had to remember that.

Easier said than done.

Quinn knew she would not be getting any more sleep that night. It was okay with her. If these dreams were to continue, she wasn't sure if she would ever want to fall asleep again.

So Quinn laid in her bed, face up and staring into nothing. She listened to the occasional car pass, to the steady blow of a fan beside her. She stayed stationary and inhaled deeply.

The sun would rise soon enough.

-----

The floor of the BAU was quiet when Quinn entered.

She had gotten to work extraordinarily early, something many did not do. She brought herself over to the desk they had assigned her, throwing her bag on the surface and sitting in the swivel chair they had given to her. She put her face in her hands, feeling a slight amount of fatigue that she knew would only grow throughout the day.

She contemplated getting up to get coffee, but soon realized that not only was it too far away, but that Morgan had texted her fifteen minutes ago asking her what kind of coffee she's like from his favorite shop that he had told her that she 'had to try'.