4.4.2
The last flicks of evening light are starting to fade when Parvez steps out to do some outdoor surveillance, grab some dinner at the local street vendor.
And then it's just the two of them left at the stakeout, sitting across from each other silently as darkness sets in.
Carrie looks Quinn over, wonders what the fuck he might be thinking. He's been quiet but effective since he arrived, even managed to slip in and clone Ghazi's phone so they could eavesdrop on the ISI operative. But she can tell that something's not right, that a piece of him is still missing.
She knows she's going to have to start it if anything is to give between them. And from what she saw of his exit interview, it wasn't going to be easy to get anything from him.
But she didn't ask him to come back so they could be at a standoff the entire time, pushing each other in that way that they do. And really she is glad that he is there, just can't seem to find a moment to express it in between the times she's pissed off at him.
Quinn's watching the screen, looks tense as usual even though nothing is happening in Ghazi's apartment.
"You okay, Quinn?" Carrie finally asks even though she's fairly certain he has nothing to say to her.
Quinn doesn't answer for a long time and Carrie fights the impulse to get pissed off at him, say something nasty.
Finally he turns to look at her, his gaze intense as usual.
"Probably not," he admits in a low mutter.
She's surprised he even gave her that much of the truth, thinks she needs to tread cautiously if she wants anything else from him.
"It was all really fucked up," she says in acknowledgement.
Quinn nods.
"Yeah," he says tiredly. "This is all really fucked up."
Carrie looks at him again, wonders exactly what he means. If he's just talking about this ISI plot to kill Sandy, their involvement in it. Or if he's still looking at the big picture, regretting his role in it all.
"I'm sorry," she finally says, unsure of what else to do.
Quinn shakes his head.
"This isn't about you," he says tersely.
And the thing is she's not sure that's true. But it certainly isn't something she's going to push him on at this point.
"So tell me about you," she says. "What happened?"
He shakes his head again, looks away.
"I was fucked up," he admits.
"Yeah you were, Quinn," Carrie replies. "I was worried about you."
"Bullshit," Quinn mutters.
Carrie bristles, remembers how it always becomes a battle with him.
"I was," she retorts. "You were in rough shape, Quinn."
He nods at that, doesn't argue.
"Yeah, it was pretty bad," he admits after awhile.
"What were you going to do?" she asks, knowing she's pushing into dangerous terrain, wonders if he will tell her the truth.
"Get out," Quinn says seriously, looking at her in the eye.
And again she's surprised, didn't think he would actually talk about this side of things with her.
"For real?" she asks, even though she already knows the answer.
Quinn nods, is still giving her a dark look.
"Yeah. Was at the last fucking step," he says.
Even though she's seen it, it's hard to hear it from Quinn, to see him admit it. She's seen these moments of weakness before in him, his tendency to run. But she wants to believe that he's like her - in it til the end.
"Really?" she asks. "You were on your exit interview?"
Her gut clenches as she questions him, knows she shouldn't be pushing into this, especially having seen what she's seen.
"Yeah," he says grimly. Doesn't elaborate.
Carrie shivers internally, imagines he's thinking about flipping out a the interviewer, the question that set him off.
And she finally sees it now, why people think he has a thing for her. Not that she thinks it's true - what they don't see is how she pulls him in, gets her way. Even now, he's here in Islamabad, the last place he wants to be. Because she asked.
"You did the psych eval too?" she says, just to break the silence.
Quinn nods.
"Just have my very last polygraph and then I'm out," he says.
"Jesus, Quinn," she says, finally really realizing he might have actually meant it, done it. If not for her, of course.
"Well, I guess I'm even more grateful that you're here now," she adds, trying to offer some sort of appreciation, apology.
"Anything for you Carrie," he mutters, turns away from her.
She pretends she doesn't hear the resentment in his statement, is just glad that the words still seem to be true. He really has done everything she's asked of him. Well, except for one thing of course. And now's not exactly the time to ask, but then again if she doesn't ask now she might never know.
"Is that the real reason you didn't come with me to Kabul?" she asks. "You already had one foot out the door?"
Quinn shakes his head but doesn't even pause, just gives it to her straight up.
"Mostly I just didn't want to live in a bunker and kill people by remote control," he says, matter-of-factly. Gives her a significant look at the end of his statement.
Carrie's taken aback for a moment, surprised at the bitterness behind his words. It's not often someone says something that strikes home with her. But maybe that's because she isn't usually listening.
"That's harsh," she finally replies, wonders if that's really what he thinks of her.
But of course Quinn puts it back on himself, has always been more introspective than anyone else she's met in his field.
"Ever since that kid in Caracas, covert operations have been over for me," he admits. "I thought they were anyway."
It's absurd how he's still holding onto that mistake, his only real fuck up. Carrie thinks about how many times she's fucked things up, wonders how many lives have been lost. But it's all in the name of the greater good, she tells herself, the lives that are saved.
"You have to let yourself off the hook for that one, Quinn," she says seriously, leans in.
But he doesn't seem to hear her, just continues talking in that low, regretful voice.
"At least I know his name," he adds. "Carlos Sedena. I don't even remember half the others."
She wonders what the hell is wrong with him, why he can't see the other side of things, the necessity of their jobs. If that job in Caracas had failed they would never have gotten Javadi, would still be nowhere on a disarmament deal with Iran. If the Haqqanis of the world were allowed to live there would be no end to terrorism.
"You took the fight to the enemy and saved lives in the process," she states firmly.
"Or just made more enemies," Quinn replies. "Either way I was pretty far down the fucking rabbit hole."
"Come on, Quinn," she says, wants to get him off this self-reflection kick, relieve him of moral burdens.
"I'm serious," he interrupts, looking at her intensely. "It's like a drug you know. Going from one mission to the next like that."
Carrie thinks she can't take this from him any longer, does not want to look where he's pointing her.
"You want to believe you were such a bad guy, go ahead," she says irritably.
"I was a bad guy," Quinn replies predictably.
She doesn't know why it bothers her so much, his tendency to judge himself poorly. Maybe because she doesn't see the bad in him, can only think of him as a guy who's always doing his best. And that was more than she could say for almost anyone else she knows.
"Stop it," she snaps. "Why are you doing this?"
"Maybe because you need to hear it," he says in that way of his.
And of course that's exactly what she doesn't want to hear at the moment, does not need Quinn giving her commentary on her life choices. She did what she had to do and still isn't at all ready to look back on everything that's happened. Especially not with Quinn there, right under his judging eye.
So predictably she gets mad, pushes back against his irritating attitude.
"What i need, Quinn. is your help, not your goddamned foot on the brake," she says sharply.
Of course Parvez chooses that moment to return, walks in oblivious to the tension.
"So, who's going do watch and who's going back to the embassy?" he asks.
Carrie looks at Quinn, but he makes no indication either way, just returns her irritated look with a stoney stare. They stay like that for a long moment, the uncomfortable silence growing between them.
"Quinn?" she finally asks.
"You go, I'll stay," he replies, acting like his usual considerate self.
Which just annoys her even more, makes her feel like she was in the wrong somehow.
"You sure?" she asks.
Quinn nods, gives her a fake smile. And she doesn't want to leave it at that but isn't about to have it out with him in front of Parvez either.
"Alright, goodnight then," she says, standing up to leave.
"Goodnight," Quinn replies, a bit too civilly.
She leaves him there in the dark, follows Parvez to the embassy car. Tries to get Quinn out of her mind but can't shake the tenseness, her annoyance with him.
Stares out the car window, tries to calm her thoughts. Tells herself that he's wrong about himself, about her.
Still there's something sitting in her gut, something she can't deal with yet. And yet again Carrie wonders why she brought him here if all he's going to do is question her.
The thing is she knows she needs him, just wishes things would be easier. But nothing's ever easy between them and Carrie's almost come to understand that his ability to push her, challenge her is part of what she values in him.
Not that it makes her any less annoyed with him but it reminds her that he's here because she asked, that there's no one else she would want in his place.
######
"I'm serious," Quinn says, trying to get her to understand with a sheer force of will. "It's like a drug you know. Going from one mission to the next like that."
He remembers briefly what it was like - to firmly believe in his actions, that he was only killing the bad guys. Before he realized he was a bad guy himself, that nothing good could come out of what he was doing.
But of course Carrie blows it off, doesn't hear any of what he's saying.
"You want to believe you were such a bad guy, go ahead," she says, clearly annoyed.
"I was a bad guy," Quinn replies.
I am a bad guy, he thinks. We are bad people. We kill and kill and kill, say we're on the side of good. But we're just lying to ourselves. There is no such thing as righteous killing.
But course Carrie can't see this, can't open her eyes to what she's become. And he knows how that is too, to be so caught up in it that you can't see anything else. To believe so strongly because doubting is too hard on the soul.
"Stop it," she says sharply. "Why are you doing this?"
"Maybe because you need to hear it," he says.
Quinn knows it's the wrong thing to say, that she isn't capable of hearing anything at the moment. She's had blinders on ever since Iran, since Brody died. And, beyond that, telling Carrie she needs to hear something was probably the best way to piss her off.
But then he remembers back to the afternoon, seeing her with the boy. Watching her seduce him, lie to him, use him. All after killing his entire family, already ruining his life. And he knows he needs to say the words, somehow make her hear them. Because he can't let her stay like this, remain this person he can't stand.
Thinking about it, being face to face with her coldness - it's almost unbearable. Yet he also knows she's hurting, that she's suffering. It's really the only thing that keeps him there - remembering that there is a human under the mask she wears. One he cares about more than he should.
Predictably, Carrie gets mad, doesn't hear anything he's saying at all.
"What I need, Quinn. is your help, not your goddamned foot on the brake," she snaps at him.
Quinn looks at her, thinks how she's right but just doesn't know it yet. That she does need help, but not the kind she thinks.
And it's almost impossible not to be pissed off at her right now, with her accusations, the way she refuses to listen. But he fights down the anger, reminds himself that he made the choice to come back, that someone has to be the stable one in the relationship.
Thankfully Parvez comes in right at that moment, breaks the tenseness in the air between them by asking who's staying and who's going back to the embassy.
Carrie's looking at him with a hard expression but he has nothing to say to her, is again having a tough time believing that he came back for this shit. Just another fucking regret, he thinks to himself.
He wants to tell her to go, to just leave him alone but knows it will come out wrong, doesn't want to piss her off even more. So he doesn't say anything, just looks at her through a long terse silence as he waits for her to make a move.
"Quinn?" she finally asks irritably.
"You go, I'll stay," he replies, thinking he's glad to be left at the stakeout, that he shouldn't be around anyone right now, especially not her.
Of course Carrie doesn't appreciate his offer, still looks annoyed and glares at him before asking if he's sure.
Quinn nods, gives her a fake smile. Just wants her to go, wants to be alone.
"Alright, goodnight then," she says, standing up to go.
"Goodnight," Quinn replies, stomping down on his emotions to reply as civilly as he can.
And then she's gone, leaving him alone in the dark. Quinn looks at the screens, tries to think about the operation, about the ISI operative he's supposed to be watching.
But, as usual, he can't get Carrie out of his mind. Hears her over and over, spouting the same fucking lies. That they are taking the fight to the enemy. That there's a point to all this bullshit.
The hardest part is that he can finally see how bad it is, how bad she is. He can even understand it to an extent - knows exactly how fucked up she was after Iran, after she watched Brody die.
He had seen it happen, seen her shut down, fall into a deep hole. It had been brutal to watch. Especially as he came to understand there was nothing he could do about it, no matter how much he tried.
When she chose Kabul, ran away from her kid, it was the last straw. A harsh reality check, a reminder that she didn't give a fuck about anyone except herself. That nothing he could ever say or do would affect her in any way.
Quinn shakes his head, takes a deep breath. Tells himself to calm down, that there's no point being upset at her, that he knew this was what he was in for. Reminds himself that the Carrie he cares about, the woman once admired is still in there somewhere.
And it's really fucking hard because he actually hates her at the moment. Everything about her presence grates on him, makes him feel raw and volatile, exposed. It's not something he's felt for a long time, maybe ever. And every self-protective instinct he has tells him to keep away, that this is all a terrible fucking idea.
Yet there he is, in Islamabad, against his better judgement, only days after he lost his fucking mind. Part of him wants a fucking drink or ten, to fall back into the destruction that he had been cultivating, find the numbness at the bottom of a bottle.
The worst part is he can't blame anyone but himself for making the choice, for giving her what she wanted. And so all he can do is sit there in the dark, hating himself for not having the strength to resist his self-destructive attraction to her.
Even now, he should be glad she's gone back to the embassy, that he doesn't have to be around her any longer. Because it hurts to interact with her, to see her so fucking shut down.
But no matter how he tries, Quinn just keeps thinking about her after she's long gone, somehow both glad she's not there and disappointed she had to go.