4.6.3

Carrie storms into her office, paces back and forth a few times. Her head is fully explosive, firing on all fronts. Thoughts of Aayan, of Haqqani. Saul. Quinn. Everything tossing around along with searing anger, waves of guilt.

She can't settle on a thought long enough to think it, just sees the image of Aayan getting shot over and over, wishes she could still go back and press the goddamned button.

Fucking Quinn, she thinks. It would all be over if he hadn't gotten in the fucking way. And since when did he become such a fucking pacifist? She knows better than anyone that sacrifices had to be made, that the game will take them all in the end. And Saul knows it too, would have made the same call himself.

Carrie looks around the office manically, eyes stopping on the garbage bags Fara dropped off earlier. The only remains of their life at the safe house, two days now only remembered by her.

Guilt crashes over her, overwhelms her sensibilities. He was her asset, her lover, a fucking kid. She sent him there, failed him, killed him. Just like before, just like always.

Carrie feels the need to destroy, to wreak mayhem. Sweeps everything on her desk onto the floor but it's not nearly enough to settle the turmoil bubbling in her. She wants to shatter everything, scream until she runs out of air.

She cannot let Haqqani win, will not let anything keep her from getting him now. Especially not Quinn, sticking his fucking nose into shit that's none of his business. What the hell gave him the right to stand in her way, override her decision?

She still can't believe he stopped her, let Haqqani go. Even the part of her that knows she let him do it, that she could have made the order stick.

If anyone else had tried to stand in her way she would have tore them down instantly. But as much as she doesn't want to admit it, Quinn has rights with her that have nothing to do with who's in charge. And even in her darkest moments she somehow knows that he means well, that he's trying his best for her.

Not that she isn't fucking pissed at him, wishes she hadn't ever fucking begged him to come back. All he's done is get in the way, question everything she does, make her think about shit that doesn't bear thinking about.

Carrie leans against her desk, silently screaming, close to tears. She tells herself it's just a stress reaction to the debacle in the control room, getting overridden when she knew her decision was sound. But really she knows it's a lot more than that. It's Aayan, dead. It's almost dropping a missile on Saul. It's Haqqani, always a fucking step ahead.

But most of all it's that she played another one, got another one killed. And Carrie hasn't even begun to look at what happened in Iran, accept her role in everything. Hasn't even talked about it, except to the boy.

Well, that wasn't entirely true, she thinks. Remembers a confession or two stateside, moments of weakness. Quinn, for all his shit qualities, is a good listener - quiet and thoughtful.

Carrie shakes her head, feels angry tears about to spill. Her mind is in overflow mode, nothing in check. She looks at the garbage bags again, thinks how Aayan trusted her, how she's responsible for his murder. Pretty fucking ironic since she had been about to drop a missile on him anyhow, thought she was ready for the consequences.

The thing is she still thinks she is, that she made the right call. Saul would understand, she repeats to herself. He would rather die than be the reason for a failed operation.

But the thought of Saul dead, incinerated by her drone, is suddenly too much too soon. Carrie sees it happen in her mind, imagines the charred remains left behind.

Aayan, her asset, the future he will never have. And Saul, her mentor, there for almost every significant moment of her past.

She feels the first tear finally slip past her defenses, knows there's nothing to stop them now. Slams her door shut, lets go of everything she's lost.

#

The red SUVs are long gone but the tension in the control room remains, the image of Aayan's body still on the screen.

Quinn stares at the picture, his head and his heart both pounding. Carrie's been gone for about thirty minutes, leaving him in a state of indecision.

Most of him understands he should leave her alone, that he's probably the last person she wants to see right now. But, regardless of rational thought, Quinn feels an urge to find her, to make sure she's alright.

Because it's suddenly very clear to him that things are worse than he thought, that Carrie is teetering right on an edge that he can't quite define. All he knows is that he can't let her fall off, that his responsibility to her outweighs any anger he's holding onto, all the disgust at her actions.

And now the kid is dead. Which was pretty much inevitable, what he had coming from the moment she snared him. But now it no longer matters what she did, how she created the situation. Because it was never about the boy - it was always about Carrie.

The whole play with Aayan, all the false promises, Carrie's 'recruitment' methods. Quinn had never really given much of a shit about the kid himself, knew he would be sacrificed along the way one way or another. But it really made him take a long look at Carrie, at this person he can't help caring about. And what he saw really scared him, pushed him to be an asshole, to confront her because no one else would.

Now the fear is still with him, especially after the scene just minutes ago. He knows she really meant it, was fully ready to drop a missile on Saul. It makes him think about where she is at, how cold she is right now. To make that decision, to be so sure.

It's exhausting, the way his emotions flip on her. He had been so fucking angry at her for something he doesn't really have the right to judge her on. And before that, infuriated at her for putting Sandy's death on him. And before that, royally upset with her for running away to Kabul, ditching her kid to drop bombs from a bunker.

But then Haqqani shot the kid. And it actually made an impact. In a way it's what he's been looking for, something to get through to her. To remind her of the stakes.

The thing is, he keeps forgetting he can't stand to see her hurt. That it's what gets him into a mess with her every time. And now it's happening again - doing his best for her while she tries her damnedest to fuck it up.

Quinn sighs loudly, does not know what the fuck to do. There's a part of him that wants to go look for her, check on her. Another part that knows exactly how dumb that would be.

And he knows which part will win, that he'd rather be reassured and stupid. Carrie is obviously in a volatile state of mind and there's no telling what she might do. He has to at least ensure that she's safe, contained.

He sighs again, chews his lower lip for awhile. Wonders how long to give her to cool off. Knows his patience is limited.

Quinn's about to head out when Redmond walks up, gives him a look.

"You thinking about chasing her?" Redmond asks, his voice low.

Quinn curses himself for being so obvious, doesn't answer the question. Just looks at Redmond cursorily, wondering what he's getting at.

"Because there's something you missed," Redmond continues. "Maybe something you should know."

And that gets Quinn's attention, enough to make him listen at least.

"What should I know?" he asks, low, menacing.

"The kid called and confessed his love for her earlier today. Everyone heard," Redmond says. "It was pretty rough."

There's that thing again, Quinn thinks. It's exactly what she deserves, what she fucking cultivates. But yet he feels for her, can't even imagine having to endure it, knowing it's live to the control room.

"Fuck," he says, cause there's nothing else really to say about it. But Redmond is right, it's something he should know, context for Carrie's mindset.

"She wanted to know what I thought about it," Redmond says.

And now that is a surprise, Quinn thinks. Carrie asking for someone else's opinion. Especially about Aayan. Maybe she was doubting herself, actually asking herself the hard questions.

"And?" Quinn asks, wonders what a less personally-involved party might think.

"I told her I thought it was worth it to get Haqqani. Well, more or less," Redmond says with a shrug. "But the thing is, she doesn't care what I think. You, on the other hand..."

Quinn doesn't like the inference in Redmond's comment, likes to think no one else sees this thing between him and Carrie. But that was pretty much over after what just happened in the control room. So he just nods in acknowledgement of the information and walks away from Redmond, thinking about what he just learned.

It's just more of the shit that she brings upon herself, the universe's way of getting her back. But he does feel for her. To be that exposed to everyone in the room. Carrie's not exactly a sharer, and that's a lot to share. It reminds him of another uncomfortable situation, watching her and Brody back when she was just a crazy co-worker he got stuck with.

And now she may still fall into that category but he's the one that's made the choice to stick. Which means it's up to her to look out for her, at least check that she's calmed down. No one else is in any position to do it, no one else would dare.

The thing is he's kind of glad to be the one in this spot, knows he asks for it. Wants to be the guy she relies on, wants to ensure she's alright. And he partly hates himself for this weakness, but also thinks it may be the only thing keeping him human at all.

#

Carrie's office door is locked and Quinn gets no response when he knocks on the door, jiggles the handle. It's what he expected, being that it's only been about half an hour since she took off from the control room. And he's still sure that he's the last person on the planet she will want to see, talk to. But he's a fucking sucker for punishment, has tasked himself with making sure she's stable, alright.

Which is pretty fucking futile considering she just watched someone she cared about get shot in the head, then just about sacrificed one of the most important people in her life.

Quinn knows she's in there, can hear muffled sobs even through the thick office door. So he quickly makes the decision, picks the lock and lets himself in.

At first he stands close to the door, takes a moment to observe the situation. Half of Carrie's shit is scattered on the floor and she's leaning against her desk, head down, arms crossed, angrily crying.

Carrie obviously hears him come in but doesn't bother to turn and look. Keeps hugging herself tightly, sobbing into her chest.

"Fuck off, Quinn," she says after a moment. "I don't have anything to say to you."

Which is fine, really. He hasn't anything to say to her either, knows talking to her right now would be pointless. So instead he approaches her silently, looks her over to ensure she's okay.

Carrie still doesn't look up at him but he can tell she's trying to stop the tears, summon her anger. And as much as there's nothing to say to her, Quinn finds himself wanting to talk with her, to explain.

"I'm sorry about Aayan," he finally says, trying to tread carefully. Obviously it's a touchy subject between them but all that shit is in the past now and he thinks she's suffered enough for the shit that she pulled.

She doesn't respond but does look up at him suspiciously before another wave of emotion crashes all over her face and the tears start to flow harder again.

"Yeah right," she sneers through sobs. "As if you give a shit."

The thing is he actually does. Wants to wrap her up in his arms, let her cry it all out. Which is so unlike him Quinn almost groans at the thought, admonishes himself for his weakness.

Really he should just walk back out, give her some space. But when he thinks about just leaving her there, sad and alone, he finds he just can't.

So instead he steps closer, puts his hands on her shoulders. Feels her body heaving with the force of her emotions, feels a shudder as his hands make tentative contact.

Carrie doesn't react right away and for a split second he thinks she's going to let him in. But then she snaps her head up, looks at him with rage in her eyes and tries to squirm out of his grasp.

Quinn reacts automatically, grips her shoulders tighter, tries to pull her in as she shakes her arms free, gives him a hard shove and a dirty look.

"I said, fuck off," she repeats, arms crossed over her chest again.

And somewhere in his rational mind, Quinn knows he should just go, has known it from the start. But now he's also lost control of his emotions, just wants to hold onto her, find a way to fix it all.

So he reaches out for her again, comes in close just as she lashes out, wildly throws a fist and hits him hard in the mouth. Quinn immediately tastes blood, feels his lip start to swell. And it's enough to stun him for a moment, make him let go.

Carrie is looking at him wildly, still teary and red-faced. Her arms are folded over her chest once more, her expression is defiant, enraged.

And this time Quinn takes the hint, tells himself she's made it pretty fucking clear she wants nothing to do with him. He's surprised to find that he's not angry with her at all, that he still just feels sad, worried. But obviously she doesn't want any of that from him, just glares at him like he's the enemy, fires missiles at him from her eyes.

So in the end there's nothing he can do but do as she demands, walks away from her bloody and battered as usual.

#

Carrie finally finishes with the angry tears a little while after Quinn leaves, feels emotionally spent but physically pent up, needing release. Hitting Quinn hadn't been quite enough, though it had been really fucking satisfying at the time. It wasn't like he hadn't been warned, she thinks he must have seen it coming.

She still feels the burn thinking about him, fire at the base of her neck. Can't believe he'd been stupid enough to come into her office after all that, wonders what the hell he was thinking.

Fuck, she finds herself wondering that a lot lately, Carrie thinks. Sometimes she just doesn't get him at all, finds him infuriating. And it makes her forget those times when she realizes they are too much the same, why she relies on him.

Right now all Carrie wants is to fight, hurt, kill. Anyone in her way, anyone trying to keep her from the truth. She wants to be ruthless, cold hard steel. Eliminate all enemies, do her fucking job.

Carrie looks around her office, adrenaline still pulsing through her. She needs to think, move, do something. Aayan is dead and it's her fucking fault. Three garbage bags all that's left of a boy that was going to be a doctor, that just wanted a chance.

Suddenly she grabs one of the garbage bags, rips it open. Dumps everything onto the floor, makes a satisfying mess.

There's actual garbage, some clothes, photos. Mostly Aayan's stuff he got from school, all the things he thought he was taking with him to London.

Carrie pauses, doesn't touch anything. Isn't sure she can do this right now but feels the need to do something. And maybe she will find some sort of answer in his possessions, some inspiration on where else she can look. Yet all she can do is stare at the pile of his things, think how she sent him to his death.

#

Hours later she is still there sitting in the dark, holed up with garbage tossed everywhere, her emotions forever teetering between anger and guilt. By the sounds of it everyone else left the office long ago, have gone to sleep as if it's just another night. But Carrie can't stand the idea of her sterile embassy quarters, her cold empty bed. Especially surrounded by the remains of the safehouse, sitting amidst its musty smells.

So she stays in her office, huddled on the floor. Knees to her chest, dying for a cigarette.

And even though she's totally drained, badly needs some rest, she can't close her eyes without seeing it all again. The bullet blowing through Aayan's head, his lifeless body falling to the ground.

It still hurts every time, the knowledge that she got another person killed. And then she failed to take Haqqani down, maybe missed her one shot. But what's done is done and Carrie's over the crying, ran out of tears long ago. Really she just wants the next day to start, needs to get out of the embassy, try and figure out what the fuck went wrong. But there's still hours until morning, a long time to be alone with her pounding thoughts.

She wishes again for a cigarette, thinks it would take the edge off her headache, at least give her something to do. But there's none in the office, not a single smoke found in an earlier frantic search, nothing to drink either.

Carrie sighs, leans her head back against the sofa. Closes her eyes for a moment, almost manages to quiet her mind for a few seconds before she hears footsteps, sees a light flicker on in the hallway.

She watches anxiously as the figure approaches; tells herself to breathe, be calm. It's probably just someone who forgot their phone, definitely not someone looking for her. No one even knows she's still in her office because she ignored everyone that came to the door after she kicked Quinn out.

But of course whoever it is walks right up to her office, tries to shine a flashlight to see through the window in the door. And suddenly Carrie realizes this might be significant, that there could be a mole in the embassy, trying to access her office.

She hears the doorknob jiggle, then there's a quiet metallic scraping before the door clicks open and a light shines in her eyes just as she aims her weapon, prepares to fire.

"Jesus, Carrie," Quinn says. "What the hell are you doing here sitting in the dark?"

A wave of relief washes over her at the sound of his voice, immediately followed by a backlash of anger, irritation.

"Better question, why hell are you breaking into my office in the middle of the night?" she fires right back, wondering what possible excuse he could give.

Quinn turns off the flashlight, flips on the light, leaving them both blinking uncomfortably for a moment as their eyes adjust.

Carrie watches as he gets his first good look at the disaster in her office, all the garbage and debris everywhere. And she thinks she knows what he's going to say, that he's going to tell her she's gone off the deep end.

But in the end Quinn just gives her that irritating concerned look, walks up and calmly takes her weapon from her, resets the safety as he puts it down.

"I was looking for you," he says. "You weren't in your quarters."

And it's infuriating that he still won't fuck off, no matter what she does. She doesn't want him to look for her, try to help. It's his fucking fault the whole thing isn't already over, with just one big hole in the ground.

When she doesn't answer for awhile he sits down beside her, close enough she can feel heat coming off of him.

"You can talk to me when you're ready," he says calmly. "But you should get some sleep."

Carrie huffs in response, can't imagine being able to sleep with everything that's on her mind, doesn't want to ever be ready to talk to him. Looks away from Quinn, tries to pretend he's not inches away from her, watching her with worried eyes.

"At least get out of here," Quinn suggests. "Lay down, rest for a bit."

Carrie shakes her head even though she knows he has a point. Sitting amongst pictures of Aayan, all that's left of his existence, is not improving her state of mind. But she likes being amongst the chaos, especially when that's what's going on in her head. The idea of rest or sleep is absurd, impossible.

She thinks she can outlast him by refusing to talk to him, barely acknowledging his presence. Sits and looks at the garbage, tries to pretend he's not there.

Minutes tick by in their silent impasse, and as much as she tries to ignore him, Carrie can feel his eyes on her, the weight of his concern. And she thinks he has no fucking right to be worried about her, not after he overstepped his bounds, countermanded her orders.

After what seems like a long time Quinn finally stands up and Carrie feels a surge of relief, thinks she's finally won. But instead of leaving, he turns to face her and reaches into his pocket. Takes out a pack of cigarettes, opens it up to reveal a few left.

"I'll give you one if you let me take you home," he says, giving her a tired look.

Somehow he always manages to surprise her, remind her that he knows her better than she thinks. Because she really wants that cigarette, maybe even wants to go to her room. And Quinn's giving her a way out, a way to save some face.

So Carrie scowls, gives him a pissed off look before reaching for the smokes, letting him pull her up off the floor.

#

She lets him take her out to the roof for a silent cigarette, stares out into the dark city, her mind obviously still deep in everything that's happened.

Quinn's fine with the quiet, knows she's still too full of anger to talk to him. And he isn't there to renew the battle, just wants to get her through a tough night, let her know he's still there.

So they smoke without a word, settling into the satisfying burn of the tobacco, the relief of a small sin. And when the cigarettes are done, Carrie gives him an irritated look, as if she's just remembered she agreed to let him take her home.

He doesn't say anything, just nods towards the door, silently leads her back inside. Carrie is surprisingly cooperative, does not say anything, put up a fight. Which is worrisome in its own way but not something he wants to question at the moment.

Again, without speaking, he walks her to her quarters, unlocks her door for her, partially to remind her he has a key, that he can check on her if necessary. But Carrie doesn't appear to notice, seems to have slipped into a pliable exhaustion. Walks into her apartment and looks around in a daze. Finally turns to face him and scowls, looks around anxiously, seemingly unsure of what to do next.

Quinn thinks that's his cue to leave, that she's remembered she's pissed off at him, doesn't want him around. He's gotten her home and she seems relatively alright. So things have already gone better than expected and he doesn't want to push his luck.

"Goodnight, Carrie," he says. "Try to get some rest."

Quinn turns to walk out the door, takes just one look back as he's about to leave. Sees Carrie still just standing there, arms crossed tightly over her chest, staring blankly at her apartment.

For the millionth time that day he wonders what she is thinking, what the hell is going on in her head. She looks totally lost but he knows she's still burning underneath, full of hellfire. And he knows he should just go, that she will be fine. But he's already this far in, can't ignore the worry in his chest.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asks even though he's pretty sure she wants nothing to do with him, will yell at him for even suggesting it.

But Carrie doesn't flip out, actually seems to be considering it. And then he thinks he sees the smallest of nods, a look of chagrin.

"It's so empty in here," she says, barely a whisper. "I'm so alone."

Quinn thinks back to something Saul once said to him. That night Nazir took her, a night Quinn still comes back to often. He knows he came close to losing her then, never forgave himself for listening to Saul, not trusting his own instincts.

She's always been on her own, he'd said.

Quinn knows it's the truth, that they are both self-reliant, find it hard to trust. She is the most alone person he's ever met and he's never been sure if it's deliberate or just a side effect of her disorder, her personality.

The fucked up thing is that he wants to be there for her. After nearly a decade of resisting human connection, keeping himself away from the messiness of other people. He sees his own reflection in her, knows the pain of being alone for so long.

So he hears what she's saying, despite the anger and hurt between them. Knows it's taken a lot for her to admit it, especially to him.

Quinn makes no comment, just closes the door quietly and walks up to her. They will have to talk it out sometime but he knows there's no words for that night. Instead, he approaches slowly, puts his arm around her shoulders and guides her to the couch, sits her down next to him.

She's shivering under his arm so he finds a blanket, tucks it over her. Then sits with her, surprised to feel her lean up against him.

"You're not alone, Carrie," he finds himself muttering as her breath starts to calm, settle into an even pattern.

Of course Carrie doesn't reply, is probably telling herself that none of this is happening. But it's enough that she asked, trusts him to be there. And as she falls asleep against his shoulder Quinn wonders how so much can change in a day, if she will return to hating him in the morning.

But as he helps her sleepy stumble to bed and tucks her in, he knows it doesn't matter. As angry as she might be, he will always be there for her. And it may be his fatal flaw but she makes him remember his humanity - reminds him she's worth saving.