Chapter Text
They said it isn’t possible.
He didn’t accept a no. He told them he wouldn’t accept a no. Not here, not now. He’d followed their rules for more than twenty-five fucking years, now they’d follow his rules. He hated it but when necessary he applied the needed pressure to the right people. Saul, of course first and foremost. Then Dar who had been released last summer, big fucking surprise. Max, always a true mensch and the most pure soul walking on earth, had been his biggest asset. In fact, he couldn’t have done it without him. And then there was her sister, she had agreed. With some conditions, but he would cross that bridge when they came to it.
It was February, this was how long it had taken him to get it all done.
He‘d been able to visit her four times, always in the middle of the night. She didn’t talk. Not to him, not to anyone else. She did what she was told though, at least when it seemed to make sense to her. So she ate and drank, took showers, got dressed and went to bed. She slept during the day, they told him, and spent the nights awake. She sat by the window then, the door closed.
He‘d scared her when he came into her room the first time, she‘d jumped from her chair and curled in a corner of the white sterile room with functional furniture screwed into the linoleum.
„Carrie, it’s m-me,“ he‘d whispered, „Quinn.“
When she hadn’t reacted he‘d sit in the other corner, hands open on his legs.
She’d watched him, several hours long, until he had to leave.
It dawned on him during his second visit that she probably thought she was hallucinating his appearance.
He tried to talk to her when he came to see her for the fourth time.
„I‘ll be back, Carrie. You and I – we‘ll go on a road trip. It’s a few hours but I think you‘ll like it. Don’t be afraid. You‘re safe now.“
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They‘re not sure if she‘ll just go with him voluntarily and they can’t take that risk, the window of time is too short so they will have to sedate her. Quinn hates that he has to do that to her but it’s the only way to get her out and away without too much unwanted attention.
The agency arranged a safe house but that’s not where they are going. She needs time to heal, and she won’t heal in an agency safe house nor will she in a hospital.
Max found them the perfect place. He had been there a few days ago, it’s all set up for their arrival, and no one will ever trace that purchase back to him or Max.
It’s a thirteen hours drive so he and Max will take turns and Max will drive back the next day, using his own car which they left up there.
They have enough food for a month and by then they’ll know what’s gonna happen next. He had nowhere to be, never again, so if this is what she needs for the next year, the next ten years or the rest of her life he‘ll give that to her.
With her sister having agreed to the plan there isn’t much anyone can do anyway. But he has a feeling that the agency won’t like the idea of two ex agents playing nuthouse together.
Even if one of them technically is dead.
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She‘s far away when a male orderly brings her to the car. Her hands are tied with restraints, the soft ones, but still. But he catches Max‘s glance and knows he‘s right.
It’s for her own safety and we can’t risk a scene now.
„She‘ll sleep soon. Ten hours at least,“ the orderly tells them and leaves after Max pays him generously.
She sleeps almost eleven hours and doesn’t even stir when he adjusts her pillow and blanket every now and then.
He noticed she‘s always cold when he visited her, and he thinks he has an idea why. The humid and moldy walls of Butyrka never warm up, not even during the short Russian summer.
He‘s with her in the backseat when she begins to wake up, knowing that touching her won‘t help and is only the last resort.
Her eyes are darting around, but before she panics she feels the restraints around her wrists and gives up before she even tries, trembling and breathing heavily now.
Quinn catches Max‘s glance in the rear view mirror, but just purses his lips and shakes his head.
„It’s okay Carrie,“ he tells her, „it’s just you and me and Max.“
He has no idea if she recognizes Max or him but she seems to relax a little when he talks so he tells her where they are going and offers her some food and a bottle of water.
They stop soon after, it’s a crucial moment and they don’t really have a plan for that, but she‘ll probably need to pee.
Quinn tells her he‘ll take off the restraints but she doesn’t react. But when he pulls the blanket away he finds bloody half moons on her arms where she had pressed her fingernails into her flesh.
She‘s too weak to walk all the way so it’s the wheelchair and they wait until she seated herself before they wheel her in.
„Fuck, you still think that’s a good idea?“ Max whispered when Carrie pulls herself out of the chair and slowly disappears behind the bathroom‘s door.
„No. But I can’t recall anyone having a better idea,“ Quinn retorts grimly, „I‘ll get coffee.“
„Quinn. Wait.“
„You saw her. You think she‘ll try to run away? She won’t even m-make it down the hallway to the fucking door. Go in and check on her if she isn’t back in five minutes.“
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Her hands never sit still while she’s having the coffee. Either they are trembling and shaking or she is performing a distinct pattern of movements with her fingers, each finger touching the table twice before she starts all over again.
It’s then when it dawns on him that it will be a long fucking month. And then another one. And one more. However long it takes.
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Her fingers are pale and almost blue when she’s settled back in the car. He noticed that before and so he came prepared, and is glad when she accepts the soft woolen mittens he offers her and she slips her hands in when he holds them ready for her.
It’s his turn to drive now and he thinks he sees her eyes darting to the mirror for a brief second when he settles in the driver‘s seat, but he‘s not sure.
A few minutes later she dozes off again.
Two more hours.
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It’s difficult to get her into the house once they arrive, and it gives him a taste of how ill-equipped he himself is to take care of her.
There are twelve steps from the parking lot down to the house which is settled on a headland.
The irony of the building being a former lighthouse keeper‘s home isn’t lost on him, but the lighthouse itself is long gone, it’s just the main building which survived.
It was an electricity and transformer station for some decades, and then it was abandoned until a decade ago when the former owner bought it.
It has three rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom, and a veranda facing the sea.
He bought furniture and threw a lot of old stuff out — and standing here now in the icecold February winds while Max judders down her wheelchair with her sitting in it makes him realize the many weaknesses of his plan.
But fuck it - so be it.
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Max rolls her in the larger bedroom but then leaves the room and retreats towards the kitchen so it’s up to him to talk to her. Given it was all his idea, that makes sense.
He limps around her and sits on the bed to be at eye level, seeing her hands are fidgeting again, but she‘s still wearing the mittens.
„Hey. Carrie,“ he addresses her.
Her eyes are still scanning the room and she doesn’t look at him but her hands come to rest in her lap.
„I know this may sound s-strange. Don’t be sc-scared.“
Which is a lot easier said than done.
„We‘ll stay here for a while. For as long as you want. You decide that. This is your room. Mine is next door. I‘ll be here all the time. You don’t have to talk to me. Or anyone. I‘ll just be here with you.“
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Max shows up with food, the first of the many frozen meals in the freezer and places Carrie‘s plate on the small table near the window.
When the two men are settled in the kitchen it’s Max who says the obvious.
„This is gonna be a lot harder than you thought.“
„No.“
„It is. You can’t even cook.“
„I‘ll learn.“
„You don’t even know if she‘ll eat.“
„Max. No, I don’t. But she’s already thin as a rail. If she doesn’t eat enough, I‘ll need – I fucking don’t know. I know she can’t stay here then. But the hospital, you saw her there. This here isn’t ideal but it’s better.“
„And if not?“
„Max. I- I can’t keep her alive,“ it’s the first time any of them mentions it, „if she doesn’t want that. But I can set her free to choose. So she‘ll choose life or–“
„Or you’ll let her go,“ Max whispers.
„Yes. I‘m s-sorry. I thought you–“
„Knew that? No. Yes. Maybe I did. I don’t know.“