Summary: It's not really a question, the way that she says it. She knows the answer, but she's almost praying for a different one. She doesn't want him to fall into the darkness that she knows is there, even though she has no doubt that he's already almost there. She doesn't really know how far gone he is. Carrie/Brody
Disclaimer: Not mine. All HBO and Showtime's.
Rating: Teen
"Well do you wanna talk about it?" Carrie's short question is left hanging in the air as she turns on her heels, looking over her shoulder and inviting him to follow. He looks back towards the meeting, at his watch, and then back to her.
"Yeah. Yeah I think I do."
Carrie starts walking towards the car, stopping only to take her jacket off and throw it into the back seat once she opens the door. Brody slowly follows her, seemingly wary of the invitation he's been given. Once they are both seated in the car, Carrie cranks the heater up high, hoping to warm both of them up, and dry out a little bit.
"Why were you at the meeting, Carrie?" Brody asks, looking over to her from the passenger seat. He fiddles with the bottom of his shirt. The first thing Carrie notices about him now is how withdrawn he becomes when he's not in front of people he wants to impress. It's similar to the way he wakes up from nightmares in the morning when Jess has already left for work.
"I was in a war zone for quite a long time. Not the same thing as you though. Undercover work, sources, assets - just my job, but in another country." The reply is short, but not unkind.
"But you obviously went through something to land yourself in a veteran support group."
"I did, but this isn't about me. You want to head anywhere to talk?"
"Somewhere private. Too many people know who I am now." Brody says as he falls back into thought. "I don't really know any private places around here though. I haven't been out much."
Somewhere private… thinks Carrie. He wants to go somewhere private. Why does he want to go somewhere private? As always, Carrie's head is moving at one hundred kilometres an hour, and even at this time of night she still seems to overanalyse everything possible. She thinks for a moment as well, before telling herself to shut up. Leave it Carrie. He just wants to talk, and you might get something out of him without even trying.
Following this, she turns the key in the ignition and starts up the engine, driving out through the pouring rain in the parking lot and onto the road.
"I know a place." She says. "It's nice."
Brody looks across at her, a small smile moving across his face. This time his smile seems to reach his eyes, whereas on television and in the debriefing it was a purely illusionist smile.
"Thanks Carrie."
*HOMELAND*
They're seated in the diner. Carrie was right – it is discreet and quite, manned only by a small woman, who by the looks of it (and the reputation of the surrounding neighbourhood) doesn't care about what the hell her patrons want to talk about. As soon as they reciever their drinks - a coffee for Carrie and an Old English tea for Brody – she leaves the room, giving them free reign to talk about whatever they want.
"So what did you want to talk about?" Carrie asks bluntly. She's not going to beat around the bush, and that's never been something she has been known for in the past. Get straight down to business, that's her motto.
"I don't know. I just don't have anyone to talk to… The kids are kids, Jess has no idea of what I've been through and I don't expect her to."
"Well isn't there anyone else, maybe someone in the military that you can talk to about this? That's probably the least they can do after you got captured in their employment."
"I don't really want anything to do with the military. The only reason I re-enlisted was the benefits the family would get through it. I'm not ever going into active service again… Not that they'd ask me to." Brody looks down into his tea, breaking eye contact again. He's uncomfortable, and Carrie notices.
Tone down on the interrogation technique, Carrie.
Carrie takes a sip of her drink before asking another question. "Do you get nightmares?" she asks, before looking straight at him. He is still looking down at the tea in front of him.
"Yeah."
"What are they like?"
"Vivid."
"Flashbacks as well?"
"Pretty much every day. There's nothing I can do to avoid it."
"Well that's what happens when you go through what we did. I had nightmares for months, even years after I first came back. I still get them now from the most recent time I was overseas." Carrie makes a special note of never revealing where it was that she went in the conversation, lest it looks like she's fishing for some kind of information. She just doesn't quite have a pin on Brody, no matter how much she would like to hope.
"I know. Jess didn't know what I was doing the first time I had a nightmare. She thinks I've turned into some violent soldier."
"Why's that?"
"I don't think she understands what I had to go through… No, I know she doesn't understand what I had to go through. I don't think she can, that's what I meant."
"Well, people can't unless they've been through it themselves. It's just one of those things."
"Yeah, Carrie. I guess so."
They've had the entire conversation with Brody's head facing the table, seemingly immersed in studying the tea he was stirring with his spoon. Suddenly he looks up.
"Can I tell you something?" he asks, "if that's okay?"
Carrie looks straight at him, a smile on her face. "I brought you here because you wanted to talk about it. Talk."
"When I first got back, the night I got back, Jess was horrified when she saw me. Not me just when I got off the plane, but when I was getting changed."
He decides to leave out the fact that they were actually making out, not that he's aware that she already knows.
"She saw all of the scars on my chest, and on my back. It's like they made me into a different person, just for being there."
As he finishes his sentence, he looks back down at the tea. He knows that she knows everything that was done to him and what he went through. Hell, all of the CIA knows, because that's their job. Jess is the only one back home who has seen the damage though, and he doesn't want to share it with anyone else if that is the reaction that he gets.
"Brody… I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted to tell you… I just wanted to talk."