**Disclaimer: Billions, Homeland and their characters belong to Showtime. Not us. There is no profit or copy right infringement intended and absolutely no intention of saying that anyone from Billions stole our ideas in the unlikely event we accidently write something that comes to fruition. This is simply two fans impatient for Bobby Axelrod's arrival and unable to let go of Brody, meantime, having fun and crossing those paths. **
Co-authored with LilMisfit for #FictionFriday on the blog Fan Fun With Damian Lewis that we are part of. Short one for now, but this could turn into more.
As/N this is not in the crossover section as there is no option for Billions yet.
7.15 AM, his allotted slot in the bathroom on the days he didn't have to be at work at the crack of dawn.
He deliberately took today off, knowing he wouldn't be able to concentrate fully. He'd gotten better at not staring off into space in front of other people. Tended not to waste too much time in the bathroom, lest he stare at his reflection in the mirror too long and start dwelling on everything he's missing.
On the outside he's Bobby Axelrod, successful, savvy, whip smart, with a gorgeous wife and two growing boys. On the inside, when he has a spare minute to think and reflect, he's still Nicholas Brody. A man who is dead to the world. A man who's still dying inside him. He's decided that is his punishment. Losing that life. Losing all of them.
"SHUT UP! I DID NOT!" Dean's shout pierces the morning silence. Puts an end to any calm and peace.
Him and his brother Geordie, they're good kids. Just not his. He smiles and goes through the motions. Helps with homework, shells out money for the latest iPhones and the top schools. He does his best for them, always has. Because any time he thinks about saying he can't make a soccer game, that he can't fix that volcano for the science fair, Chris' sad eyes, disappointed frown fills his head. Any time his mouth moves to tell a lie, Dana's harsh words, raw anger invades his brain. Overwhelms him to the point he can barely think.
"MOM! WHATEVER HE SAYS IS A LIE!" The loud yell reverberates through the house and stomping echoes down the long hall.
He thinks one last time of his own children. His own flesh and blood who he lost the right to be a father to. Even the boy he loved as his own and lost. Issa would've been around Dean's age now.
Would've been, could've been. He's trained himself not to go down that road but every once in a while, he can't help it. He thinks of his oldest girl and his only son. He thinks of his youngest. A little girl who according to his PI friend, has red hair, her mother's eyes, and a birthday today.
Taking a deep breath he gives himself a shake, splashes some cold water on his face. More to shake off Nicholas Brody, the disgraced ghost threatening to come to the surface, than to actually wake himself up. Opening the bathroom door he sighs, readies himself to be the peacemaker.
