A/N: first chapter was mostly about Carrie, now I'm getting into where Quinn's mind is.
"She walks!?" Quinn shrieks.
"Yeah what'd ya think? She's just going to lean against people her whole life?" Carrie rolls her eyes, grinning.
"Hi there pretty little girl," he coos gently in a voice hard to resist.
Damn it. Why did he have to do this to her?
"Maybe she can hang out in her crib," Carrie improvises taking action.
She tries her best to pretend she didn't do what she just did and attempts to pick up exactly where they left off. He's clumsy as they fall to the mattress, having a difficult time fumbling with her shirt one handed.
"Quinn stop. I can't do this. I can't just leave her in there wide awake," she finally protests.
He sighs.
"I mean what if she hears us!?" She increasingly begins to panic.
He stops as she requested, offering a suggestion.
"You're right let's bring her to Maggie's," he springs off the bed grabbing his shirt.
She props on her elbows, narrowing her eyes.
"Quinn!"
"Carrie," he gives a sheepish smile.
"Look she'll be ready to go down in an hour or two."
"Or two!?"
"Listen here Peter," she rises off the bed backing him into the dresser. She deliberately pushes his injured arm into him as he winces and brushes her thigh against the hardness in his jeans teasing him further. "I waited five whole months, I think you can wait a few hours!"
"Yeah," he grabs her waist, leaning in for a kiss until she walks away.
Quinn knows there's an imminent conversation that he wants to avoid at all costs. She'd had time to process his return. He stares at his sling and briefly flashes back to how he got home.
"Quinn," she says re-entering.
His mouth is hanging opening, eyes glaze, just standing there like a zombie.
"Quinn!"
If only she could hear the buzzing imitating gunfire and see the deranged images flashing in his head.
"Quinn!" She shakes him.
He flat-out jerks his whole body at her touch, coming back into reality.
"Yeah yeah what?"
"Are you okay?" She asks nervously.
"Yeah, um the painkillers. They make me sleepy," he fibs.
"Yeah," she reads right through him and he knows it.
"Come on we're ready to go," she brushes his hand to calm his nerves.
Quinn wishes that he was coherent enough to snap out of it all for good, needing to tell her that she's the only reason that he's alive. The things he did to get here. He knows they're tailor-made for each other, no denying that, which is why he's fearing conversation. Absolutely terrified of fucking it all up. It would be better if he could just hold her keeping her pacified not saying a word.
He's borderline jealous at how normal life seems to be a lucid transition for her. Like she'd never been apart what he just came from. He damn well knows he's got to man up to the decision he made, because for once it's not just about him.
"Plus I need to take Jazz for a walk. We we're suppose to go to the park," she says rushing down the stairs.
"Jazz?"
"Our puppy," she clarifies.
"You got a dog too? When?"
"I bought him for Franny for her birthday."
He displays a look of guilt for missing it.
"Don't worry it's not like I have any friends," she assures him. "We just spent the day at my sister's house and Max and Vigil came by."
"Sounds like fun," he grins. "So do you like having a dog?"
He grabs Franny from her arms and she opens the crate to get the sleepy golden retriever.
"Well he pisses all over the place, he barks at ungodly hours and he eats our shoes like it's his job, but I love this little fucker," she says rubbing the puppy's head.
"Shit!" She says trying to excuse the use of fucker in front of Franny. "I mean ugh, I still suck at that!"
"Mama woof woof."
"Yeah baby we're taking woof woof."
"What do you guys do at the park?" He asks, shamefully having no idea.
"She runs around for an hour, I run around for an hour. By the time we get home she's passed out."
"Oh. You know you're a good mom Carrie," he says as she smiles letting Franny down to play with the puppy in the open field at the park.
"Thanks."
She stops him, forcing him to look her in the eye.
"It was a yes Quinn," she delivers abruptly.
"Shit Carrie I know," he pulls her close. "I got scared... scared it wasn't."
"You should have just told me Quinn!"
"I'm sorry Carrie. I wish I could take it all back. I should have never left."
"But you did Quinn!" Carrie pulls back reading how genuinely bad he feels, needing so badly to believe he's telling the truth. That it was everything to her.
"And Dar-" she chokes.
"Did he hurt you what did he do?" He questions protectively.
"No. He just wouldn't let me speak to you."
"That son of a bitch!"
"He said I couldn't speak with you," she sobs.
"I would have been on that plane Carrie! You know that," he kisses her forehead.
How did he make it all go away just like that? Because it must be real. With Brody she had fallen in love because she knew they could never be together and it didn't work, but with Quinn it was because she knew they had to be together and it did. Now here he was integrating into her life again, almost like he'd never left and it feels good.
"I was always coming back Carrie," he lifts her chin to meet his gaze. "Always."
"I missed you Quinn, so much," she puts her arms around him.
"I missed you too."
"Shit! Franny!" She's immediately distracted by the toddler chasing the puppy into the distance.
"I got it!" Quinn takes initiative sprinting after them.
He gathers the two in one scoop. Quinn swiftly falls to the ground as the puppy begins licking his face and Franny begins using him as her own personal trampoline. Their laughter becomes an epidemic, Carrie included.
His anxiety quickly subsides and he doesn't want to be anywhere else. Perhaps it was just that easy to get out.
Teaser: next chapter is called "Making dinner?"