A/N: Depressing for sure. I've got more for this one. Thanks to everyone that's been keeping up. Really appreciate the feedback :)

It's a sizzling summer day in D.C. Children are outside taking advantage of their parents' lawn sprinklers, running through them like their lives depend on it. Josie and Ruby sprinting laps through their own sprinkler without a care in the world while Maggie and Franny watch with their beach hats. Carrie can't help but look out the window, wishing it was herself booking it down the street. Not much to do these days beside that, other than relay the doctors words in her head. "Swelling on your spinal cord, nothing yet, long road ahead, we're not sure, take off work and you're lucky."

She thinks of that last one the most, you're lucky. She doesn't think so. The one thing that can completely take her away from her work, immobilization had only become her real nightmare. Being confined was never a wonder or thought. It's suffocating.

It's not what's killing her though. She's deathly thin from self starvation, mainly living on a diet of cold whiskey and vegetable broth. Maggie fearing everyday that she'll find her dead, searching the room constantly for anything sharp. She hasn't even asked to hold Franny, or even see her for that matter, making Maggie sick. Carrie won't even look at her if Maggie brings her in the room, claiming that she doesn't want to see her this way.

It's late now dark and she's freezing. Draping her legs again in an over sized blanket, unable to look at them. Parts of her that she's unable to fathom, their uselessness haunting her. Remembering that running was her best tactic. The only time she must do so is to use the bathroom and shower. Going a week between bathing smelling of booze and sweat just to avoid herself. Her sister increasingly becoming overbearing in the past few days about it. When the hot water begins its flow, it's the only time she allows herself to cry in this horrid life she's allowing herself to sustain. Any other time the energy is not there.

Refusing any "help" from Maggie, she keeps the door locked, especially when in the shower, no matter how long it takes. Not even allowing her own sister to offer assistance. Today she allows her weekly routine, soaking up the scalding bath water, just to feel where she can.

"Carrie," he speaks softly.

She ignores Quinn as if no one is there.

He steps closer when she rolls out of the bathroom, forcing a mutal gaze. With no other acknowledgement he looms as she stares out the boring, dark outdoors at the nothingness.

"Carrie please..." He tries his best.

Quinn watches behind him as her nieces run to their bedrooms for the night.

"Look, just look at me please. I want to see your face. Please!"

She reveals the madness she carries with her everyday now, Quinn not prepared.

"What now you want to look at me!? What now!? Because you fucking feel bad for me!?" she screams with intensity.

Quinn can't form words, disappointed in his lack of support he can't find. He's only staring at her face with the guilt he still feels.

"Your sister is worried about you... look I brought you some food."

"I don't fucking want it! Can you please just fucking go. I don't want you here! I don't fucking want anyone here! I don't even know why you're here."

"I want to stay. I want to see you."

"No you don't! Did you not fucking hear me!? Get the fuck out!"

Quinn lowers his head in defeat, clearly fazed at is own helplessness. He wonders about what she is thinking everyday, amazed that she's still going. One way or another though, he knows if she keeps living this way her bitterness will surely be the death of her.

"I'm going to leave this here okay," he places the takeout on the dresser.

He feels selfish for giving up so easily, but absolutely has no idea how to get to her. Not even sure if anyone can.

Carrie doesn't say anything as he leaves, her anxiety level dropping as she hears the door shut. Finally solitary moments again to herself. Saul had attempted the same with similar results. She doesn't see a reason for going on, just living in that room for the rest of her life, useless to the world, to herself.

Knock, knock.

"Quinn I told you to fu-," Carrie turns to see Maggie grabbing the food. she ignores her sensing again how much of a burden she is without asking.

"Carrie I know I've said things in the past," Maggie begins while lingering in the doorway, "but you need to eat if you want to get better. If you ever want to visit dad... I don't want to have to put you next to him... Not now. "

Carrie listens to every word, knowing damn well it was only matter of time when she was going to give up. She wants to, they will be better off without her.

Maggie waits for anything, although not expecting a word given how the past few weeks have been exchanging no more than a couple dozen words. She's even begun filling out all the legal documentation for custody of the baby, forgetting why she hadn't before.

"I came you know," Carrie lets out just as Maggie begins to walk away.

Maggie stops, back still turned hoping she'll continue.

"I lied. I went to the funeral. I was in the south lot," Carrie admits.

"Oh?"

"I saw all of you there and I just couldn't do it you know," Carrie continues as the first known tear rolls down her cheek, still not looking at her sister.

"I tried, I tried, but I couldn't. I'm a fucking shitty person and I deserve this."

The crying becomes hysterical and when Maggie attempts to counsel her, but she puts up her defenses.

"Carrie-"

"Maggie don't. I just want to sleep please. I promise I'll leave you all alone tomorrow and you'll never have to see me again I mean it."

"Carrie stop that! You know that's not true. That's not what anyone wants."

Finally confidence arrives, she's ready to look at her.

"I don't deserve to have you guys!"

Maggie had never heard this reason and realizes how alone Carrie really is. Her beliefs put into words as she has never put them before. I makes sense why Carrie is the way she is even before her injury had caused the damage it had. She knew her sister had boundaries, but never realized it was her way of life. Her mechanisms now in light.

"I'll see you in the morning Carrie," Maggie chokes.

She's heard it before, but it sound is a little different now. The combination of wailing and periodic whimpers, begging for attention. She rubs her eyes convincing herself that this isn't really happening. That baby, her own child, sitting alone of the floor feet away from her favorite toy that has found it's way across the room, isn't really there.

Carrie shuts her eyes again imagining a virtual reality where it really isn't real and she's overseas hunting down number 3 on her list, not thinking about anything other than that. Taking them down, celebrating with her team afterwards. It doesn't work when her instincts that she didn't know she had kick in a few minutes in. She can't stop herself, not knowing why. She can't even feel the chronic headache or mental pain she has when she bends down from the chair to pick the child up and the crying spell ends. It just happens. And strangely, it seems to feel better after all of the negative interactions they have had and she finds Franny becoming calmer by the second, soothed by her.

Maggie utilizes the crack in the door just enough to make sure Franny is okay, wondering if this is the best way start. So far so good.