There it was again. Guilt. Rising like heartburn in Quinn's chest, in the back of his throat. Catholics were conditioned to feel it in most situations, he thought, but then he also thought that he had shrugged all that off years ago. This was nothing to do with latent Catholicism. He stood in the parking lot at Langley, as close as he could get to the scene of the blast without actually going in past the various vehicles and cordons and the hive of activity that went with them. He hadn't been prepared for it, seeing somewhere he knew so well razed to the ground. The feeling that he was responsible, or, more accurately, that he was responsible for not stopping the person who had done this, weighed heavy on him.
Saul had relocated to a building on another part of the campus, a fair distance from what was left of the auditorium and the adjoining building where his own office was. Quinn had swung by a bakery on the way there to get bagels and coffee, it was early morning and he doubted that Saul had slept, let alone eaten anything. He found Saul sitting at a desk in a bare office in front of a laptop playing its screensaver with his head in his hands. When Saul looked up, Quinn saw that his eyes were red raw from a mixture of smoke, exhaustion and tears.
Quinn tossed the package of bagels on the desk in a casual, manly way, suddenly self conscious about showing Saul a kindness. Then he felt stupid for being macho at a time like this. He wished Carrie was there, she softened their edges despite being harder than them all put together.
"Good to see you, Saul." said Quinn. Saul had forced a smile. Quinn set down a coffee in front of Saul and sat down opposite him. "You been up all night?", Quinn asked.
Saul nodded, pushing up his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, then remembering that it was polite to answer when someone spoke to him he added, too late, "Yeah, just taking calls and...you know..", trailing off. His voice was hoarse, like he had been yelling for hours.
"So, I just came by the uh, site. There aren't words...I can't...", now Quinn trailed off.
"I know, I know. I had to leave, I was just getting in the way. They'll be there days, weeks even." Saul replied, taking the lid off his coffee, sighing. "Thank you, for this, by the way.".
Quinn shook his head, no thanks needed. He watched Saul drinking, concerned that he seemed a ghost of his normal self, like a senile old man found wandering the street in his pyjamas. Seeing how upset he was, Quinn didn't feel able to rush him, to ask for Carrie and Danny and the others. He didn't want to upset him further. The longer it went on, the less able Quinn felt to ask and the more certain he became that they must have all perished.
Heartburn.. Quinn hoped it was the bagel.
The pair of them sat there in silence for a while, eating. Quinn waited patiently for news. "So, I didn't hear about any of this until late last night. I was in Philadelphia. I came back as soon as I found out. What can I do? Just name it. Are you heading up the investigation? Who, um, else is here?". Quinn couldn't quite hide the note of desperation in his voice on that last question and he imagined that it had registered all over his face too, because Saul suddenly tore off his glasses with one hand and smacked the other onto his forehead, dragging splayed fingers over his eyes, past his nose and down across his mouth.
"Christ, Peter, I'm so sorry! You're asking me...Sorry. I'm a little, uh, tired." Saul looked mortified. He had sat there alone with the bare facts of the matter for hours until they seemed to have become part of the air in the room. It hadn't occurred to Saul that Quinn, who was now breathing that same air, wasn't also party to the horrors that he was already processing.
Quinn bit the inside of his mouth, wishing that Saul's faculties would fire the hell up and he would give him the news already. He dug his thumbnail into the arm of his chair and braced himself.
"Carrie is alive". Saul announced finally, warmly, still surprised at the fact himself.
Quinn tipped his head backwards and looked to the ceiling, letting out a huge sigh that seemed to go on for minutes. "Thank god.", he said. Relief like he had never felt bloomed inside his chest and killed just as little of that acid reflux. "Is she in the hospital? What's her condition?".
"Actually she's at her sister's resting. She barely has a scratch on her. She was shaken and concussed, confused. But she's fine. She missed the blast by minutes. Sheer luck.". Saul smiled fondly.
Quinn watched Saul's smile fade slowly, sadly. "Who else?", he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Saul nodded his head, confirming the unthinkable. "Pretty much all gone. 206 people so far. Estes, Knight, Galvez, Feehan, Walden's wife and kid, Farooq, Mendes, Cooper, Obafemi, Taylor...", he trailed off again, misting over. "I spoke to most of their families myself. Didn't want them to hear it from some human resources person, a cop who never even knew them. There's a list around here..." Saul rustled through the papers on his desk but suddenly sank a few inches, bowed his head and took hold of the bridge of his nose again. He wept silently. Quinn saw his shoulders jerking up and down and thought to himself that he could have mistaken it for laughter if he hadn't seen the completely haunted expression on his face in the second before he had broken down. Quinn went over to Saul's side of the desk and crouched down, extending an unsure arm around his shoulders and patting him gingerly, before giving up and gripping him tighter. Quinn gulped. He wasn't sure if he was helping but he stayed put nonetheless until Saul had recovered enough to whisper 'thank you, Peter'.