Choices – 7: Recovery
Brody goes to the door, opens it; Carrie sees Brody exchange a few words with a man in white and step outside. He leaves the door ajar but she can't hear the conversation that is going on in the corridor.
She goes the other way, deciding to go get some air on the terrace. When she slides open the French windows, the sun has started its descent and it is not as hot. She welcomes the sea breeze that caresses her face when she crosses the terrace to its far end side.
Her heart is still beating faster than usual, but her anger has virtually disappeared. All right, he is not going to work against America's interests, as she thought first. He saved his ass, that's what he did. It doesn't make him a traitor, right?
She allows herself some respite before the long conversation she knows is going to take place in a minute. She's terrified, so she doesn't want to think about it. She's not ready yet.
She takes a deep breath and takes in the stunning view that spreads in front of her. The blue of the sky is hypnotizing. The sea whispers in the distance and the words of a song pop in her head:
In the sound of the sea
In the oceans of me
I defined
I designed
My recovery
Pop-rock is not her favorite style of music but she has completely fallen for that song, that voice - and the lyrics. They struck her as distressingly suited to Brody's story, and she has listened to it at least a hundred times in the past weeks.
I don't want to play this game no more
Maybe that is about her too.
She hears footsteps on the tiles behind her; Brody's pace sounds nervous, hurried. She turns and he hastily calls her name: "Carrie! Carrie!" She doesn't like the tone of his voice, the frown on his face. She joins him quickly and he says: "Carrie. They want to take you back to Tehran, to the airport."
"What? Now?" she asks in disbelief.
"Yes. Either you go with them now or you stay here. And… well. You know." It was so unexpected that he didn't know how to put it and not make it sound too brutal.
"But… I can't take such a decision so quickly! Damn it Brody! I can't! I can't!"
"I know Carrie. I had no idea they'd want to drive you back so early. I tried to argue but they wouldn't budge. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Carrie shakes her head, still not believing that the next seconds are going to change her life forever. One way or the other.
"That's just not possible! Brody, please! We haven't even talked about what we'd do if I…. And the baby. And everything. Damn it! Damn it!" The words jostle in her mouth and in her head. The tears start falling, panic grips her heart; she can't think properly. Think Carrie! Think quick, think right, Carrie. Don't make a mistake you'll regret all your life.
Brody watches her, helpless. He sees her agony, wants to help, but he can't. He wants to beg her: "Don't leave me, please, Carrie. Please. I love you. I need you" but he won't. He wants to take her in his arms, hold her tight, keep her with him and not let her go. But he won't; he won't put her in a cage if she wants to fly away.
She has to make her choice. Alone.
We are always alone inside the box of our mind.
He follows her as she steps back into the room, as she walks up to the door where she left her bags. She grabs them, and turns her head slightly, unable to look him in the eyes: "I'm sorry, Brody. I can't. I just… I can't".
She opens the door and walks away.
He stares at the door that has just closed behind her. A heavy mass of dark wood that is more terrifying than the doors of all the cells he's been locked in before.
She's gone.
He is free but the hole is inside him now.
He turns around, walks slowly across the room. Sees her towel on the floor. He picks it up and holds it against him. As if her ghost were still somewhere in there. But there is nothing; just a light touch of her smell. Still he clings to it. That's all he's got.
He is back on the terrace. Doesn't look at the seagulls that are flying and laughing above his head. He knows they are mocking him. They're right. He doesn't deserve her giving up her life for him. He deserves nothing. He failed. All he's tried in the past years has failed. It was all for nothing.
At the corner of the terrace and the house wall, there is a little gate that opens onto a small steep stairway. He slowly goes down the narrow steps that lead to a pool surrounded by high bushes. He spent some time there this morning before Carrie's arrival. He was full of hope then. He had just cheated death and was ready to embrace life to the fullest. But with her, not without. Not without…
The sun is now hiding behind the mansion so the water is dark and unappealing. Exactly what he needs.
He lays down Carrie's towel on the sunbed, gently brushes the little creases away. He removes his sandals and slips them under the sunbed. Takes off his pants, underwear and t-shirt, folds them neatly on the towel. His old reflexes are deeply set in his mind of ex-marine. They just take over when there is nothing else left.
He stands on the edge of the pool. Closes his eyes. Hears the seagulls above still laughing at him, even hears them calling his name.
He lets himself fall in the water. Water, where all life began and where it will all end.
The car starts rolling. She has to keep her sobs silent, the sound of the engine is low, and the two shadows in the front are not speaking. Her eyes dart all around but she is blind to reality. She only sees what's in her head: her father, getting prematurely old for not knowing where she is; her sister falling apart with sorrow on the day they've lost all hope of her ever coming back. With not even a body to bury and visit on Sundays with the girls. Not even a tiny useless star on the CIA fucking Memorial Wall. She sees their tears and it is unbearable. Her mother has also disappeared without a trace. She can't impose that on them again. And she needs them, damn it! She needs them so bad, and will need them even more when the baby's there. The baby. He deserves a nice life, he deserves to grow up in a great country. A great country that has tried to kill his father. Is that what she'll tell him? And will she also tell him that she dumped his father when he needed her most? Because she was terrified? Because she was too fucking scared of the unknown?
Her eyes are focused now. She sees the gates right in front of the car. They are opening slowly as the car gets nearer. Beyond those gates is life as she knows it. Familiar faces and places. Comfort and convenience. Family love and support. God and Saul Berenson and Carrie Mathison save America.
But without Brody.
"STOP!" she yells. "STOP! LET ME OUT!" She fumbles with the door handle, trying to get out, but it's locked.
The driver brakes and turns around to look at her, not getting what he sees, this pregnant woman going mad, eyes bulging and face in tears. "You can't get out here." "I'm not going anywhere, take me back. Just take me the fuck BACK!" she yells. The guy tries to calm her down: "Keep quiet and stop shaking that door." She doesn't listen, continues to yell and cry. He has to pull his gun and brandish it under her nose for her to stop. He looks at the other guy who shakes his head. He rolls his eyes in response, and sets the car in motion, makes a U-turn in the large alleyway.
The tears she cries now are of relief. "How could I? How could I?" she scolds herself.
Two minutes later, she's back in the house, running up the stairs and calling Brody between two gasps of breath. She opens the door of the room, sees it is empty and runs to the terrace. It is empty too. "Damn it, Brody! Where the fuck are you again!" she laughs. She runs across the terrace, takes a look down into the garden but can't see any movement. "Damn it, damn it," she mumbles, fear starting to mount. Something's wrong.
All she hears are the seagulls laughing.
"Brody!" she calls. "Brody!" she calls louder. "BRODY!"
She thinks she hears a sound, stops pacing around and listens. A faint voice. Yes. "Carrie!" She recognizes his voice. The voice of the man she loves more than anything.
At the bottom of the narrow stairway, he is soaking wet and shivering.
He presses her in his arms as much as he can without keeping her from breathing. She is so warm. So alive. He needs some of her vital energy to flow into him.
Coming back from the dead is not easy.
But it is worth it. He knows, he's been there before.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she sobs on his bare shoulder.
"Shhhhh, it's okay, love. It's okay. Everything will be okay now."
A/N:
I'm sorry I've put you - and Brody - through this but:
-Carrie needed to go to the extreme last limit to be able to take such a radical decision
-I symbolically needed to "revive" Brody. I want him back so bad…
There are also several parallels with the finale.
The song I'm referring to is "Recovery" by James Arthur. It is amazing and seems like it's been written for Brody. If I knew how to do it, I would do a tribute video to Brody on that song.
And by the way, this fic is not over yet! We'll hear from Carrie and Brody very soon…
Thanks for reading!
