Everything happens so fast she doesn't even remember thinking. One second she's watching a mom walk by with a toddler in her arms, thinking about Frannie. And then suddenly she sees a suspicious green car roll to a stop, Quinn leaving the post office, immediately ducking for cover.

Instantly Carrie slams the car into reverse, rams into the back end of the green car just as she hears the first shots, sees Quinn fall to the ground. Part of her realizes he's been hit, but she doesn't even have time to process any worry as her old training kicks in, the muscle memory of emergency situations.

Quinn fires his entire clip into the driver of the car as she leaps out of the car, helps get him off the ground, into the passenger seat. Then, quickly, automatically, Carrie searches the dead man, grabs his phone and takes his photo with slightly shaky hands.

And then before she knows it, she's back in the car, driving away from the scene. Starting to actually process what happened, realize that Quinn really is shot, could be seriously injured.

She looks over at him, concern starting to push through the pure adrenaline that's fueled her so far. Because Quinn does not look good, face clenched in pain. Bleeding all over the place despite trying to put pressure on the wound with his hand.

"I should take you to a hospital," she says, fear starting to rise in her throat as she listens to his laboured shallow breaths.

"No, I'm okay," Quinn replies, as he obviously would. Fucking obstinate as always, even with a bullet in him.

"You are not okay!" she snaps at him, knows how much pain he must be in, has felt it herself. Thinks through her options if he won't go to the hospital, knows she needs to get some real pressure on his wound soon, before he bleeds out next to her.

"We should pull over," she says, trying to push the panic away, tell herself that Quinn's going to be alright despite how things are looking at the moment.

"No, they'll be coming back to get him," he argues, somehow thinking it all through despite the hole in his side, the shock that must be setting in.

"Who was that?" Carrie asks, still unsure of what the fuck just happened, too caught up in everything to think about any of it yet.

"Whoever wants you dead wants me dead," Quinn replies with a groan. "We have to get you to the train station."

"No!" Carrie fires back, sure that he can't be fucking serious. As if she could just get on a train right now. And what, leave him bleeding alone in the car?

"Your photo's in the drop, you'll have your cover. You can go," he says, still trying to play it off like he's fine, not fooling her at all.

It's the kind of thing that makes her want to kiss him and kill him at the same time. Such a Quinn thing to do. Trying to offer his life for her safety, all the while pretending he doesn't care.

Well, she does care, Carrie thinks. He's in trouble, needs her help. And there is no fucking way she is going to let him die on her after just finding him again.

"I am not leaving you," she says, as emphatically as she can. "I'm not."

#

"I am not leaving you," Carrie says in a tone that says it's final. "I'm not."

Quinn turns and looks at her, feels a myriad of things at once. But mostly he thinks fuck, she somehow always knows exactly what to say to him, his every weakness.

He wants her to get on a train, get as far from Berlin as possible. Use the time he's bought her to completely disappear, start a new life, hopefully learn to live without her daughter. It's all he wanted, all along. Like a fucking mantra. Get her to safety, then get on with his life.

It was the best fit for his plans, required the least involvement with her. Would have allowed him to go back to who he is without her, the coldness of his current existence.

But now he's got a fucking bullet hole in him and Carrie's no less stubborn than she ever was. Keeps looking at him with eyes full of worry, so much so that he has to look out the window, try to harden up.

It's fucking impossible with her, Quinn thinks to himself. One day and it's already a shitshow, his armour falling apart. And it doesn't help that he's bleeding a lot, in an immense amount of pain, starting to feel a little light-headed.

Because although most of him wants Carrie gone, holed up somewhere safe, there is still a selfish, deeply-buried sliver that wants exactly this. He doesn't have much left in the world, Quinn thinks. So it means something to hear her say it. And especially so surely, definitively.

It's that thing that drives him crazy about her, in both directions at once. Her determination, that spirit that refuses to die. It's frustrating, exhausting. But it's also inspiring, incredible.

So when she uses it on him, Quinn has no chance. No matter his own will, he hasn't won one on her yet. And if he's being honest with himself, it's because he doesn't want to.

Another rush of pain passes over him, and he groans again, hunkers down in the seat. It's a good thing she's there, he admits to himself. Because he's starting to feel like shit, is starting to suspect that things could be pretty bad.

Carrie looks over, worry scored in her eyes.

"You're gonna be okay, Quinn," she says, reaches out to put her hand on his shoulder.

And he thinks, no, he's not. Everything's gone to shit, his every plan for her, for him. His carefully constructed coldness deconstructed in less than a day.

Quinn has not been this guy in what feels like forever to him. Two years in Syria equal to about ten anywhere else, he figures. So convinced he was done with any other existence, that death was all he ever was, would be again. Even thought he had a realistic shot at this, that he could see her, let her go, come away clean.

But obviously whatever it is in her that brings this out in him is stronger than he remembered, or he's weaker than he thought. Because Quinn finds himself wanting this, her concern, her touch.

It's so unlike him Quinn has a hard time processing it even now. He's been so alone, enclosed in his personal shell, closer to death than life. So far gone he thought he didn't want back.

And then one day, one job, and it all comes flooding back. Two years in the deepest shit. Yet Carrie somehow remains his tether to humanity, even after all this time.