quinn_pro_quo | (no subject)

(no subject)

Quinn had spent some time at Francis' place already now, so she easily made herself at home again when she was brought back over. She knew at some point he was going to ask for her help. She knew that whatever was going on in his head, it wasn't stable enough and it wasn't that easy to work with. She hoped that she could help him out and make everything settle more firmly into place. She couldn't promise that it would work though. They could only work on it and see how it went.

She had, of course, immediately flopped herself down on his couch, arm across the back of the couch like she owned the place. She loved this apartment. It was chic and gorgeous and airy and had an amazing view. Darcy's place was boring and boring and really fucking boring. Maybe Quinn was simply bored, but it was easier to blame it on her sister.

"How do you want to do this, sunshine?" she asked from where she was sitting, head back.

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"I think your sister is stronger than that," he said, and he believed it. There were strength in her, he'd sensed it. "But if you still feel you can't, then don't. I'm here too." And she was talking, which must mean that he had some of her trust at least.

"Listen to me." He leaned forward a little bit. "What happened to you was a terrible thing." They had endured similar but different, the two of them, and he couldn't even imagine just waiting like that, waiting for it to end. "You were powerless, that's true. But you are not now. You need for find a way to see that."

He leaned forward to speak to her, genuinely trying to help her and she saw how apparently she'd been ranting like a crazy person. What good was she if she couldn't pull herself together at all?

"I think..." she started, tears rolling down her cheeks again, "I think I still need more time. I'm nearly recovered, but... I don't think I'm ready to face anything and I don't know when I will be."

"Bit by bit, Quinn. You don't have to do it all at once. But you can't wait too long." The risk of leaving it alone was that she could get even more stuck in that way of thinking, that lack of motivation.

She felt more hopeless. She didn't like time constraints. It meant she was going to run out of time. It mean that she was limited on what she could get away with. She had to do something sooner than later and she sort of hated that.

"But... I've now told someone," she said, hoping that earned her a few brownie points.

"You have," he agreed and gave her a slight smile, hoping to be encouraging. "Which does mean that you have started. Just.. don't stop after this, Quinn. Please."

Why was he pleading with her over this? What did he have invested? Yes, they had become friends, tied together by something neither of them expected. It was lucky they ended up anywhere near each other. None of it was anything short of a miracle.

Quinn stared down at him and swallowed hard, trying to hold back that raging emotion inside her. She didn't know what to do short of throw herself into his arms. She stopped herself from doing that. "I... o-okay."

She stopped herself, but apparently he had other plans. "Can I give you that hug now? It has been well over five seconds," he asked, trying to inject a bit of humor into the situation to show that not everything was dark and gloomy.

The tears were still present in her eyes, but she laughed, wiping her face and nodded to him. He'd have to instigate it. She wasn't good at that. Maybe Quinn was going to have to get used to having someone who wanted to hug her and tell her it was alright. She'd never had that before.

He still smiled. Pulling her forward lightly before he let go of her hands, then fortier with his hands behind her shoulders until she had to lean down against him and his arms could go around her back.

It took all of two seconds after his arms slid around her that she broke down again. Trembling in his hold, Quinn slid out of the chair and half into his lap, arms tightening around him while she cried into his shirt. She didn't know she had that much in her, that she was aching that badly and that apparently she'd finally hit the point where she could no longer hold back that pain. He'd already seen it and felt it. He knew and so she let it go in front of him.

Jesus, what had happened to her?

This was going to be a long hug.

When she slid out of the chair he just tightened his hold on her, holding her tightly. With an arm around her back and a hand resting on the back of her head, he cradled her against him, rocking slowly from side to side. Just letting her cry, letting her get it out, mumbling soothing words that it was going to be alright.

This stopped being a hug about ten seconds ago. Now it was an embrace, borderline cuddling, just more tears.

Quinn let herself cry, let herself feel him comforting her. She allowed it to go on while she got rid of every last bit of energy she had to put into this. While he held her, she realized she didn't feel lonely. She was still upset, yes, but not lonely.

It wasn't for a few minutes that she finally stopped crying, but that didn't stop her from remaining tucking in against him, face pressed to his neck and arms tightly around him. Quinn's hands were fisted in his shirt for a long while until she released it just enough to stop wrinkling the fabric.

He felt when her sobs subsided and when they did he didn't let go. Still he held her cradled against him, giving her an extra moment of comfort.

This wasn't just from the four years that had been stoled from her, he thought. No, this ran deeper than that. But she had told him, hadn't she? About what her family had been like before. Her childhood. If he was right, then this break had been a long time coming.

By time Quinn started to realize that this was about to turn into a really awkward time of her trying to climb off his lap with as much dignity as she could muster, she was already trying to figure out her exit plan. Maybe she could just leave and catch a cab or... she could go on a walk.

But she knew she didn't actually want to be alone. There was this very distinct and foreign ache to be close to someone right now and she was having a hard time pinpointing where that was coming from. She wasn't good at emotion.

Quinn pulled back and brushed at Francis' shirt to occupy herself, "sorry."

The fabric on his shoulder was definitely soaked, but he didn't mind that. It was just a shirt. "Sorry for what?" He asked mildly. He even reached out to brush tears away from her cheeks. "You have nothing to apologize for."

There was a faint flutter of something when he wiped away the tears on her cheeks. That was about the moment when she decided she really needed to put some space between them. Quinn gingerly stood up and then offered a hand to him to help him up.

She couldn't answer him now with the way he said she had nothing to apologize for. She couldn't really make sense of it either. Maybe she didn't need to, but she still felt she should.

When she moved back he stayed where he was until she had regained her own sense of space. Then when she offered a hand up he took it. Back on his feet he started to walk back into the apartment. "Do you need anything?" It was now his turn to offer.

She followed, but quietly. It wasn't until he asked that she even considered speaking again. "No," she lied. She probably needed to take something for her head, but she felt like it might be a good reminder right now. "Thank you, though," she added, to be polite.

Quinn sat herself down on a corner of the couch, legs curled up. She waited, trying to sort through her thoughts for a moment, finding herself drifting off into space and having to pull herself back into it.

"Francis?" she started up again, voice sounding sheepish, "would you care if I stayed the night tonight? Just tonight. You can kick me out tomorrow."

He had wandered to the kitchen to busy himself with making some coffee for teh both of them, more for something to do than anything else. With how open his apartment was, and the kitchen and living room being more or less just one large room with the kitchen sectioned off with cabinets and counters, he had no problem talking with her from there. "Feel free to." In fact, if she hadn't asked he would have come up with a reason to suggest it, himself.

"Okay," she said, eyes tracking him as he moved around the kitchen. What the hell was going on in her head right now? None of it was making a lot of sense. She was frustrated and burnt out and finding herself wanting to stare off into space, or more accurately, watch Francis move around the apartment.

Maybe they were working together too much. Maybe she was getting too attached because they understood her. That could be a problem, right? Maybe?

"Thanks," she said belatedly.

He would argue that becoming attached to someone wasn't a problem. It was a good thing.

He didn't quite understand why she thanked him. Was it for being there? Or for him letting her stay over? "You're welcome," he simply said.

She fell into another few minutes of dazed silence. Quinn was drained from helping him and then the break down she just experienced, so when the room fell quiet, her mind shut down.

Quinn let herself twist on the couch, legs draped over the arm and laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Thoughts drifted and emotions were dulled, which for right this second felt a thousand times better. She had to get her head on straight again. She needed to be herself.

Once the coffee was done he brought two cups with him out to the living room. She got to have the couch to herself as he opted for one of the chair s available instead. She seemed to need the space.

She didn't seem to want to talk either, so he switched n the TV to fill the silence and reduce the potential pressure one could feel to talk.

It wasn't too long before she relaxed enough and exhaustion caught up with her that Quinn drifted off to sleep. Her head fell to the side, face showing the flickers of light from the television. It was a dreamless sleep. She would wake up grateful for that.

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