Carrie III
Carrie stands at her door and stares at her feet, willing them to make the step.
Fifteen days. Over two weeks and not a peep, no watchful eye. Quinn is gone for real, didn't even come by to let her know. But then again who's fault is that?
This is what Carrie has been thinking for the past week. Maybe longer. He's on an assignment, something long-term. But she knows he would have told her he was leaving; she had expected him back within days armed with some bad excuse.
The worst part is she knows she deserves it after spending so long telling him to leave. The other worst part is she is still stuck in her own low and the constant hits are getting to be too much. Even if she did create this one on her own. Hell she basically created all the other things too. Everything she does turns to shit in the end.
And then there's that other thing, the twitch in her gut that tells her there's something wrong, that she needs to find him. Carrie's never known such a strong intuition to be wrong before.
She had put her pride aside and called a week ago, has tried to reach him ever since. He never answered though and eventually it started ringing straight to his voicemail. She had even considered getting Virgil to track the number but then she would have had to break her personal quarantine. Of course by the time she was ready to do it his phone was dead.
And now. Fifteen days. Carrie tries not to think how many things can happen to someone in fifteen days. She doesn't even know if he's on the continent and it's driving her crazier than she already was.
So she's at the door, hand reaching for the knob. Carrie hasn't left her house in over a month now, since she dove into her depression. It's been a bad one and it's still hanging on, especially with her anxiety and self-hatred on overdrive due to Quinn being MIA.
But then again it's also the reason she's at the door, dressed for the office, invalid ID clipped to her jacket. It feels both extremely normal and completely wrong, Carrie hasn't worn anything other than sweats for ages, hasn't bothered with a hairbrush in that time.
Putting her office outfit on was step number one. Step number two is harder but she pulls together all of her waning determination, remembers how shitty it is sitting around not doing anything about her problem. The feeling that she should be doing something instead of lying around in the anxious dark was what finally got her motivated enough to put together this plan.
So Carrie takes a deep calming breath, opens the door and steps outside. The fresh air pulls her forward and she gets in her car, drives to Langley the same way she's done hundreds of times before. She's not sure how things will go when she gets there but she pushes that worry back, focuses on her objective. Now that she's left there's no going back, not without what she's afCarrie arrives at headquarters and walks in as casually as she can towards one of the friendlier security guards, Dwayne. She hopes against hope that her ID will scan properly but sees a frown on Dwayne's face when he scans her pass.
"Sorry, Ms. Mathison," he says. "Looks like your security status has been put on hold."
Carrie gives him her best smile, tries to seem confident. "Oh, I've been on leave but it should be good to go for today," she says. "Just let me up for now and I'll go get this fixed."
Dwayne gives her a half-smile. "You know we can't do that, Ms. Mathison," he says firmly. "Can't let anyone in without security clearance."
Carrie tries again, pushing her anxiety back before it rises to the surface. This is the first conversation she's had in a long time and it's not going as planned. "Come on Dwayne. How long have you been frisking me?" she asks with a smile. "You know I'm clean."
"What I know and what I'm allowed to do are two different things," he replies. "Rules are rules, you know how it goes."
Carrie sighs, feels tears starting to form and forces them back. "Look Dwayne. This could be a life or death situation. I wouldn't be here for anything less," she says, letting her anxiety poke through. "I need to get in, talk to Adal. Just bring me there and ask him to take charge of me there then you're off the hook."
Dwayne looks at her seriously, he looks a bit concerned and she wonders if she really looks that bad. Or if the baby's really starting to show. Either could work in her favour, she thinks and as long as it gets her what she wants, she doesn't care.
"Please. It's already too late," she pleads. "Just bring me to Adal's office."
Dwayne sighs and moves his head in what could be a nod. "Okay. Just once so you can get yourself a working pass," he says, calling another guard to take over his station.
Carrie breathes a sigh of relief. This is the hardest thing she's had to do for a month and it's barely started.
"Thanks Dwayne," she says. "I won't forget this."
He escorts her to Adal's office and waits with her until she manages to barge her way in.
"Adal, I need to talk to you," she says, bursting in to his office when the door is opened by one of Adal's guys leaving. "Tell Dwayne he can leave me with you so we can talk."
Adal gives her steel eyes but he nods to Dwayne. "You can leave her with me," he says.
Carrie breathes deep again, so far things are actually coming together.
"So what's so important you needed to break into the CIA, Carrie?" Adal says with a scowl.
Carrie looks at him with practiced eyes, tries to see if he really doesn't know why she's here. It's hard to tell with Adal, though and she doesn't have time for mind games.
"Where's Quinn?" she asks, going straight to the point.
"That's classified," Adal replies with a frown.
Carrie scowls. "There's something wrong isn't there? Just tell me where he is, that he's fine or get him to answer his goddamn phone so he can tell me himself and I'll leave," she replies.
"Sorry, Carrie," Adal says with a fake sympathetic look. "You know I can't do that."
Carrie glares at him, knows it won't work on Adal. The man has no feelings, no man in his position could and still be effective.
"Well I know you could if you gave a shit about the people that do your dirty work, that put themselves on the line," she fires at him. "I know there's something wrong. And if something happens to Quinn because you dicked me around then you better watch out, Adal. You think you're safe but you don't know how far I would go. I'm fucking crazy, remember."
Adal keeps a blank face, no reaction at all. "I think you need to leave now, Carrie," he says.
Carrie gives him one last scowl. Unfortunately she agrees - if she stays things will get messy.
She turns and leaves Adal's office, putting the next step of her plan into action. Carrie is feeling more herself already, the fire is burning in her at least for the moment. She is not going to leave without what she needs.
She heads for Fara's office, finds the financial analyst at her desk eyes focused on her computer screen.
"Fara, I need your help," Carrie says.
Fara looks up from her screen startled. "Carrie, you're back," she says with a tentative smile.
Carrie doesn't bother to try and smile back; she is only after one thing. "Do you know what happened to Quinn?"
Fara suddenly looks nervous, looks around to see who might be listening. "Classified," she says. "I don't have the clearance."
Carrie frowns. "Look, I need to know whatever you know, whatever you've heard," she pleads.
Fara looks around again, gives Carrie a timid look. "I heard he was shot on a mission," she says. "But that's just a rumour."
Carrie exhales loudly. "I need to know where he is, Fara. And he's moved so I don't know where to find him and he's not answering his phone," she says. "Can you look him up in the system?"
Fara shakes her head. "I can't," she says. "I'm not authorized to view personnel files."
Carrie gives her a interrogative stare.
"I've seen you on the computers. I know you can do it. I need you to do it. Quinn needs you to do it. You don't know what he's like, Fara," she says plaintively. "The last time he got shot he took himself out of the hospital the next day and just popped pain pills like candy. He could be fucking dying and he wouldn't ask for help. I know something's wrong - you have to help me."
Fara gives her a worried look and Carrie knows she's won.
"Please, Fara," she pleads. "I have to find him."
Fara looks around nervously then turns back to her computer and starts typing furtively.
"Just the address," she says, printing the information out for Carrie.
Carrie sighs, almost collapses from the effort of it all. She looks around and has a moment of lightheaded surreality. She's really at Langley and is going to leave with her reward.
"Thank you Fara. You don't know how much I needed this," Carrie says, running out the door.
Carrie stands outside a very nondescript house, knocking on the door.
"Quinn!" she shouts. "Are you in there? It's Carrie, let me in."
She hears no response, sees no signs of life so she goes to the back of the house and takes out a bobby pin, slips it into the lock.
Surprisingly Quinn has shitty locks, probably hasn't had time to replace the ones that came on his newest shithole.
Carrie steps inside and is almost overcome with a putrid smell, the scent of death. It's more than ominous and her stomach seizes in nervous anticipation.
She walks into the main room, sees a mattress and a pale and bloody Quinn. Her heart freezes for a moment and she has to take a deep breath before she can get close enough to see that he's breathing.
Carrie heaves a minor sigh of relief and sits on the floor beside the mattress, putting her hand to Quinn's forehead. It is burning hot and he is sweating buckets. But he's alive.
His eyes flutter when she puts her hand on him and he seems to have a hard time focusing his vision.
"Quinn, can you hear me?" she asks, shaking his shoulder slightly.
Quinn groans in pain at her touch but reaches out with his hand. Carrie takes his hand and he squeezes twice.
"Carrie?" he says deliriously. "You're real."
Quinn is looking at her with dazed eyes, coated in a sheen of sweat. He is deathly pale and nearly emaciated, his bloody t-shirt sagging on his frame.
Carrie feels every emotion that's been battling in her jump to the forefront. All her anxiety, sadness, anger, fear - she sees it right now in Quinn. She was counting on him even after she'd told him to fuck off; she even missed his fucking nightly lectures. She would watch him watch her even after she kicked him out and it always made her feel better, knowing he was still around.
"Jesus Christ, Quinn!" she explodes. "You can't fucking do this. You can't just disappear on some mission and almost die and not call and not answer your fucking phone! Do you know how long it's been? I've been fucking worried sick."
Quinn smiles. "You're the one who told me to leave, Carrie," he gasps out.
Carrie scowls at him with fiery eyes. "I didn't fucking mean forever!" she snaps. "I didn't mean you could fucking die on me, alone in some shithole."
"I'm not dying," he tries to say but he half chokes on a word and starts to cough a painful-sounding wheezing cough.
Carrie looks at him in alarm, gets past her fear and really looks. "Fuck, Quinn," she says sadly. "You really look like shit."
She gets up to get some water for him, gives him his last pain pills and helps him sit up to drink the water.
He looks exhausted from the last bout of coughing but he's pretending to be okay. "I'm fine, Carrie. I just need some rest."
"Bullshit. You're running a fever and you look like you haven't eaten since you disappeared. I don't see any antibiotics and you're out of pain meds. What the fuck were you going to do?" she asks.
Quinn shrugs, closes his eyes in pain. "Just lie here and die then, I guess," he admits. "Seems fitting right."
Something in Carrie bursts and tears come streaming out. She wants to fucking hit him hard, she wants to pull him into her arms, tell him she's sorry about everything.
"FUCK. I told you, you can't die, Quinn" she says between sobs, poking him in the shoulder. "Please."
"Yeah, well you kind of spoiled the die alone plan," he replies with a small smile. "But you could still leave."
Carrie frowns, knows he's playing with her but it still pisses her off. She takes a deep breath, pushes back the tears.
"I'm not going anywhere without you," she says. "I should get you to the hospital."
Quinn shakes his head. "No hospitals," he says.
Carrie frowns again but knows she would be the same way about it.
"Then come to my place," she says without even thinking. She just knows he can't be here, alone on a bloody mattress in a house with no furniture.
Quinn gives her a skeptical look, shakes his head. "No way, Carrie. You asked me to leave you alone, I'm not fucking staying at your place. You know this is going to take awhile. I'm fine here," he argues.
Carrie shakes her head, gives him her best glare. "Fuck that, Quinn. You're coming with me. I can change her mind, you know," she replies. "And I'm not leaving until you agree."
A taste of his own, she thinks.
Quinn frowns at her but she just keeps giving a 'what are you waiting for' look and he finally sighs. "Fine, I'll come with you. Just for now, " he says resignedly. "One condition though."
Carrie looks at him sideways, quirks an eyebrow. "What's that, Quinn?"
"No sponge baths," he replies seriously.
Carrie half smiles, grips his hand in hers. "Deal," she says, not quite believing she's invited Quinn to invade her carefully guarded privacy. But her instincts are rarely wrong and this one feels exactly right.