Disclaimer:

I do not own all of there characters, some of them are not mine. I do not pretend to own them, this is just fanfiction and is done because I like this show and am curious if I can write something that other people that like this show would like. This being said… this isn't a Carrie-Brody fanfic, it might seem that way at start, but it isn't. It's not a Carrie-Quinn fanfic either as that is just plain illogical. Please leave as many comment as possible, bad or good. "I'm a big boy… I can take it.".

Chapter I: Estranged

Bam! The door slammed shut behind him. Six days have passed and no sign of Brody. The first days were critical, yet nothing, absolutely nothing surfaced.

"God dammit, Carrie, where is he?" Saul's voice raged out of his chest, his face was red with anger and he looked as if he was about to explode any minute.

"He's dead! How many times do I have to tell you? What do you want from me, Saul?" She remembered the last time he saw Brody, she remembered how he called her "love". She remembered hearing his voice saying "Goodbye, love", so she started crying. Truth be told she missed him, she missed his touch…

Her crying got interrupted by Saul's angry voice.

"Don't think for a minute, I believe this horse shit! You helped him get away and now you're trying to clear his name!"

Then a young man opened the door, he had black hair and a long face.

"Mr. Berenson, sir, Goldberg said he has something for you." said the young man in a prudent way. Seeing Saul so angry made him feel unsafe and defensive and… prudent.

"Tell him I'll be there in 10 minutes, Jon. I just have to wrap this meeting up."

Jon nodded, smiled at Carrie and closed the door behind him.

"You're trying to clear his name, because you want him to come back to you… because you are obsess…" Carrie did not give Saul a chance to say it, no way is she gonna take that word again.

"I'm trying to clear his name, because he didn't do it and because he's the fucking love on my life. He was a hero that helped us get Abu Nazir and he deserves to be remembered like one… not like some terrorist, not like some suicide bomber…"

"He is a fucking suicide bomber. Even if he didn't do this car thing, he put on a fucking vest and almost blew himself up. Does that sound like a suicide bomber, to you? Because it fucking sounds like one to me…"

"That wasn't the Brody I knew, not the one I fell in love with… that was the product of years of Abu Nazir's brainwashing… a brainwashing that got him to make that fucking tape, got him to put on that fucking vest… but you know what turned him back?"

"Your everlasting love for each other?" Saul asked on a sarcastic tone…

"Yeah! That's right. You know what Saul…"

"I don't have to sit here and listen to this horse shit. I have to go talk to Goldberg!"

Saul left the room and Carrie started crying again.

Saul went up a long hallway, made a right turn, then a left turn, then opened a small glass door and went into the room where Goldberg was waiting for him.

"Have you monitored what I asked you?" asked Saul on a concerned voice.

"Yes, sir, there is no trace of Brody in Canada. Nothing surfaced yet… he is a trained sniper. They are trained how to go underground after a hit…"

"No. He's too famous. There has to be something… call me as soon as something surfaces."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh and Goldberg… if nothing surfaces in a few days… start looking for mysterious deaths in Canada. You understand me?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

Saul left the room. There is no way Brody was dead, Carrie would be in a nut house by now if that was true. There had to be something more… she helped him escape, there was no doubt about that, but where did she take him. Canada seemed the most likely place… well for now, he just had to wait for Goldberg to come through. Soon enough he'll be able to through a hook in the water… and wait for someone to bite.

Wolves were howling outside. It was a loud howl, a very loud howl. By the sounds of it they must have been at least five or six. Probably hunting, searching for food... food, he didn't have real food for days. What he wouldn't give, even for that stupid, tasteless porridge he got when he was a captive in Iraq. No food, no family, no life... no Carrie. He was truly the loneliest person in the world now... he remembered telling Carrie in that hotel room that he was lonelier than in the bottom of that hole in Iraq, but that wasn't true... he had her then... now... nothing. No food... no life. The entire world knew his face and he had to not get caught... how do you do that? How do you do that Allah?! How? But Allah did not answer, Allah had no answer for him... as Gods never do. Why would Gods ever care about the lonely, painful life of a human. He missed his children, they must think he's a terrorist by now... they must hate him, wear his name with shame...

He needed to pee, but those wolves sounded real close. Might as well take his chances, he's a dead man anyway. It was really cold outside, his skin tightened around his arms and those wolves sounded really fucking close. He unzipped his pants and started to urinate.

What was the point of this all? Why is he running… the entire world thinks he's a terrorist. They will catch him and they will kill him and that is going to send Carrie to the nut house, for good. Where could he even run? He can't go into any town, his face must be on every television, every website, every newspaper by now… where could he run? Nowhere…

He went back into the cabin. It reminded him of those two weekends with Carrie, even though the cabin looked nothing like Carrie's. This cabin was a small, one room, no toilet, small windows kind of cabin. It was probably abandoned for a few years now and he knew he could not stay here forever, but it would have to do for tonight. He found a small little corner, hugged his legs and close his eyes. He reached that point where he was more tired than miserable and he fell asleep soon after.