"Carrie, so glad you could meet me today."
"I did, I made it. I'm here."
She insists on sitting on the couch and the doctor observes her determination.
"So what do you want to talk about today Carrie?"
"I thought that you are the one who's suppose to ask all the questions?" She says adjusting herself.
"I'm all ears. Whatever you want."
This place wasn't like any other hospital she'd been in. Her room is more like a real room; normal bed, real kitchen, no locks on the outside of her door or alarms. Like a studio apartment with an open door. Plus no one treats like she's a problem. Just someone genuinely seeking help.
"I don't know," she looks around for a moment. "I just got back from physical therapy," is the only thing that comes to mind.
"And how'd that go today? What did you do?"
"I went swimming... can't remember the last time I did that," she cracks a glimpse of a smile. "It's just... frustrating."
"I know it is Carrie."
"And how would you know?" Carrie immediately questions her 'support'.
"I was a patient here ten years ago," she tells her calmly.
"You were!?"
She nods. "Now what do you want to talk about?"
"I don't know what to say to them," Carrie tells her. "What if it's different when I get out of here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe I'll be better for everyone if I just... stayed like this."
"You're there Carrie. You made it."
"What do you mean?"
"Acceptance. You can only move forward from here."
She considers it deeply. "I guess so, yeah... can I come back tomorrow?"
"Whenever you want."
The next few days, she tells her a bit more. She talks about her bipolar disorder and eventually she brings up Franny. She tells her she has no one to talk to about it. Tells her how she left her and about her father dying before she was born. Says she can't be with her without being reminded of him.
"She's your daughter too," Dr. Whitmer says after listening for awhile.
"What?" Carrie says though she hears her.
"Now," the doctor looks up trying to paint the picture for her. "Now think of her as your daughter," she emphasizes, "what do you see?"
Carrie thinks, embracing the process. "She smiles like me," Carrie laughs. "And she stares down strangers like it's her job."
Dr. Whitmer observes the change, but waits to say anything.
"Do you think she'll be mad at me?" Carrie asks.
"Is that what you're afraid of?"
"Yes," she quickly admits.
She chooses her words carefully. "I think it's unfair to decide that for her."
Carrie shakes her head. "Yeah."
They talk about it often the next few weeks, on and off. Carrie herself starts to notice how much she misses her, but recently Maggie's been to busy to bring her down. It actually becomes difficult to talk about her with the reasons being the exact opposite than before.
"Can we just talk about something else?"
"Like I said Carrie, you can talk about anything you want."
It's quiet for awhile, almost too long.
"I have this friend," she begins. "He's... a good friend."
And she talks about Quinn, picking the situation apart more than she has to. Dr. Whitmer doesn't tell her anything she doesn't all ready know. Just listens.
It's this particular day she decides she's just had enough of not seeing them. Distance is not what she needs right now, especially now. She calls Maggie first, excited to tell her about her day even. Maggie's delighted that she did, but just can't make it today. Then tells her she probably can't make it for Franny's birthday next week. Carrie only blames herself for being so far away - choosing it and accepts it.
Quinn sees his phone light up - though he's no longer excited when it does. It's been weeks since he had a glimmer of hope left in him. He ignores it.
A few hours later when he leaves the range he sees by accident that she has called. An irregular heartbeat begins thudding in his chest and he's shaking, not sure if her calling is a good or a bad thing. He decides that if it's the last time he speaks with her that he's got to do it in person. It's already into the afternoon and he heads for Charlotte the second he walks out the doors.
He's got nothing for her this time. No food or wine to bring to her. Absolutely no time to stop either. The only thing he's going to get at this point is a speeding ticket and possibly a pat down for smelling like a gun range. He thinks even of they did try to stop him he wouldn't pull over anyways. He knows how to get away.
"I don't know what I was thinking Quinn," she says as soon as he enters, in a way that he's not sure how to take. "Why didn't you call me back?"
He gets closer knowing that his voice wouldn't be loud enough to project. "I was worried... that you'd tell me no."
"You came. Sit," she taps her hand on the couch.
"Okay."
"I missed you. A lot," she says.
Quinn puts his arms around her as she puts her head into his chest. "Me too," he says. Though it wasn't possible to put into words just how much he did.
They sit there in a loose tangle, their limbs becoming floppy. He didn't want to hang on tight just to have to let go.
All of a sudden she moves her right thigh, just barely, and he's glad he's here to see it.
"I'm proud of you Carrie," he smiles as he caresses her leg.
"Quinn?" She says.
"Yeah?"
"Can you lock the door?"
"Why?" He's not sure why he's asking.
"I want to kiss you."
He nods almost unaware of his own fire stoking inside.
He returns, meeting her eyes with intend as she lies lazily in front of him. It's pretty much taunting at this point when he just stands still, but all she can do is only watch. Now feeling her own primal needs burning inside, needing her own release.
Without warning he carries her to her bed. It's automatic when he braces himself over her, careful not to hurt her in anyway. His lower body to the side of her and upper body settling above her. The taste of her lips never gets old. Even better now that it's a fully welcomed invitation.
When he pulls back for just a second she whispers. "Fuck me Quinn."
He tells her no, then kisses her again before she can speak. This doesn't stop him from exploring her, though still extremely weary of hurting her.
"I don't want to hurt you," he says not a half inch away from her lips.
She reaches down to touch him and he grabs her hand before she gets a chance.
"Carrie I can't," he tells her even though it pains him to.
"You can't or won't," she whimpers.
Quinn's silent, worried all over again that he'll upset even though he wasn't sure that's possible at this moment.
"I want to," he props himself up.
He pulls down her shorts a little bit at first, deciding a second later to completely take them off, delicate with every motion. Carrie watches him like a hawk, mostly because she's waiting for him to do something. She almost wants to beg him, but knows it's completely unnecessary. It's really that she's just anxious about her body.
He gets on his knees as if he's about to get up, never taking his eyes off of her, and swiftly parts her thighs when she can't any further. Two fingers slowly trace the outside of her folds, then running his smooth palm across her heat.
His fingers are so soft as they make their way to the middle, beginning to slide in and out of her. To this point she'd been to terrified to find out for herself. Though the sensations are different, maybe better now or maybe different because it's him.
She can see his hardness protruding through the denim and wishes she could reach him from where he's kneeling - knows he wouldn't allow it anyways. Instead she decides to let herself go, not exactly sure who wants it more right now.
Mostly ignited by the smoldering heat, sweat forms and her body begins to glisten, illuminating her. Her scent permeates the air with desire and his fingers are slick with excitement as he plunges them in further. Her face is now contorted into an expression of unexplainable pleasure. With her eyes rolled back, soft cries escaping her. She wants to touch him too, but can't, so she grabs a hold of the sheets instead.
"Yeah. That's it Carrie," he whispers.
Quinn's thumb rubs slow circles across her clit while he continues fucking her with his fingers. Her moans become louder and his cock begins to twitch.
"Agh agh agh," she moans until she can't anymore. She clenches her teeth at the same time clenching around him, overcome by him like the spell she had thought he was under, completely captured by him. The waves traveling through less of her, making them almost more concentrated.
He's greedy though, ever so satisfied even without being touched. He sucks his fingers, in between and all like a thirsty animal. Directly after, he heads for the bathroom and she assumes he's finishing himself off - though she doesn't blame him. She lies their content and relaxed, still slightly pulsating from her orgasm, realizing she's smiling too.
Quinn quickly comes back with a tissue to clean her up, puts her shorts back on for her, then turns her body slightly so he can align his body with hers. He manages to abandon his own erection, as he's not nearly as hard against her - though she doesn't know how long he can go from here. His arm wraps around her like she's his possession, his prize. She's starting to feel like it's the other way around.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks gently.
"No."
"You make me happy," he tells her.
"Stay the night," she says now half asleep from resting so comfortably against his body, in his arms.
He doesn't say a word, yet doesn't move, just falls asleep with her.