Okay not to be redundant but thanks so very muchly for the feedback and following and favoriting going on. :D
This fic is challenging but I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't having fun with it. So yeah..here's the latest. More to come soon. :)
He was holding her hand again. Carrie wasn't sure how he was exactly. He was dangling from a bridge and she was covered in dust on the ground. And she'd cried and screamed in the tongue he'd taught her but couldn't stop any of it from happening. All she could do was watch as he was dragged off while she was pinned down. Trapped first by the out of control crowd, then by a man who took advantage. He'd pulled her out of the mob and against him, and she'd fought out of his grip then tried to run, but the sick fucker wasn't willing to let her go so easily. He wanted her to watch. With a knife at her back and his hand with a too tight grip on her jaw, he laughed as she cried and screamed and watched her closest friend here die.
But her friend was holding her hand now. And kissing it? What the fuck was that about? Her translator was a lot of things but overly affectionate wasn't one of them.
Lifting her head curiously at this new development, the white noise slowly faded out and her vision cleared to see them. Teary blue eyes laser focused on her clouded over pair.
"Carrie? Can you hear me?"
She was looking right through him. Seeing but not really seeing him. It scared Brody shitless but he forced himself to calm down for her sake.
Moving closer he stroked her hair with his free hand then, not able to resist, kissed her forehead. When it didn't trigger anything he let his lips linger there. Then pulled back so they were nose to nose.
"I know you're scared, I understand. You know I do.", he sighed. Cradling her face in his palm as she continued giving off that same, frighteningly blank stare.
"But you're not alone, okay? It's just like before, just like you told me."
Smiling softly remembering that crappy motel room, Brody thumbed the tear track on her cheek.
"I'm right here love, I'm gonna help you. And the first thing we're gonna do is get the fuck out of here."
Making sure one hand was still holding her's, he reached for his phone and texted Zahira, then the imam asking him to bring the van around. Knowing he'd be prompt about it helped him feel a little more at ease.
He knew the longer they stayed here the more he risked being seen, having idiot bystanders add to the commotion. Carrie had enough of that going on her head, he knew she didn't need more of it.
Resuming stroking her hair, Brody worked up the nerve to rub her shoulder. Unnerved that she hadn't said one word. Kept staring off across the way looking for someone who wasn't there.
"Nicholas!", Zahira called running over. Eyes widening seeing Carrie, she froze.
"What has happened? Is she..?"
"I'll explain later. Where's the van?"
"It is parked around back. Although here, I found this near the curb. It is her's, yes?", she asked. Remembering Carrie fiddling with the green cased phone that day at the apartment.
Taking the phone, thumbing at the screen til it came to life, Brody laughed at the picture of him set as the background. Zahira looked and couldn't help but smirk.
"Very flattering."
"Yeah well.", shrugging he shoved it in his pocket before Zahira gasped, looking around nervously.
"What's wrong?"
"Where is Farrah?", she asked, as Carrie tightened her grip on Brody's hand.
"Farrah? Farrah?!", she choked out, looking around frantic as he cupped her face.
"Shhh. Carrie it's okay. We're looking for her. We'll find Farrah. I promise you we'll find her."
"B...But.."
She was trying to speak but she couldn't. It was like her brain had cut off communication with her mouth, leading her thoughts to just gather and multiply and overwhelm her.
She started shaking again and Brody pulled away from her just long enough to remove his jacket, slipping it over her shoulders.
Then though he heard voices, one in particular sounding familiar. He identified it as the woman Quinn had spoken with earlier and froze. .
"Alright we need to leave. Now.", he said, in a commanding tone of voice he hadn't used since pre-capture in Iraq. He liked the way it sounded, felt. Being in action and in charge, helping someone besides himself.
Easing his arms around Carrie he lifted her as he stood up. Holding her tight against his chest. She fit perfectly in his arms and felt even more perfect. And he didn't let go of her even as he climbed in the backseat of the van that quickly left the lot.
...
"CARRIE! FARRAH!", Virgil had been yelling for them for over an hour, calling Carrie's phone non-stop with no answer. The mob had dissipated after the cops showed up, but he was still wandering around aimless and scared out of his mind. Not paying attention where he was walking until...
"Jesus, fuck! The second time this has happened today!", Quinn exploded as Virgil backed up, looking apologetic.
"Quinn? When the fuck did you get here?"
"Followed the squad cars. Had to see what the hell was going on. Glad I did.", he sighed, walking alongside Virgil up the road.
"You seen Carrie? I've been calling her for over an hour with no answer."
"You seen Farrah?"
"No.", Virgil said bitterly. Ever since they'd been separated he felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. He was so worried about her he couldn't think straight, and had no idea what he was going to say to Carrie when he finally saw her again.
"She was right there with me but then the fucking gun went off. I turned around and she was gone."
Seeing the guilt in his eyes clear as day, Quinn gave him a brotherly squeeze on the shoulder.
"Look don't beat yourself up. From what I saw of this clusterfuck I would've been shocked if you'd managed to stay with her."
"You never answered me, did you find Carrie?"
Biting his lip Quinn tried to decide how to best answer him. Then decided it was best to not answer him at all.
"Did something happen to her? Was she hurt?", Virgil asked, trying not to panic.
"She's being taken care of."
"By who?", he asked, arching a brow.
"It doesn't matter.", Quinn insisted. "What matters now is tracking down Farrah."
"Bullshit! They both matter!"
"Virgil, believe it or not I'm as worried for the two of them as you. But like I said, Carrie's being looked after. Her foster daughter isn't. And you know fucking well if you go to Carrie without Farrah tagging right along behind you, you're better off not seeing her at all."
"I don't like this, Quinn. Not one fucking bit."
"Yeah well we have that in common.", Quinn scoffed.
"You didn't get a hold of Saul, did you?", Virgil asked.
"Berenson?"
"Yeah, Carrie's mentor? Short. Balding. Bearlike?"
"No, I haven't. I don't think we should involve him yet.", Quinn said. With Brody in the mix he knew for now, that Saul had to be kept in the dark. It didn't sit well with him but it was what it was.
"He deserves to know what's happened, Quinn. If he hasn't pieced things together already..."
"He hasn't. He's coming home tonight from a trip he took with his wife. It was their anniversary, you want this to be his welcome home present?"
"So what, we just don't clue him in?"
"Why worry him now when we don't need to? We find Farrah tonight, this will all just be a bad dream in the morning. One an old man shouldn't have to go through. Understand?"
Reluctantly, Virgil nodded.
"Look I'm going to start driving around, try and track her down. I suggest you do the same."
Quinn said walking off. Leaving Virgil standing alone and wondering what the fuck had just happened. Trying Carrie's cell one more time with no answer, he resorted to the next best option.
"Hello?"
"Maggie? It's Virgil, Carrie's friend?"
"Hi, what's going on?"
"Look have you heard from Carrie today at all?"
"No, I've been running from sickbed to sickbed."
"At the hospital?"
"I wish. Josie and Ruby both have that stomach bug that's been going around. And now my dad's showing symptoms. I'm confined to the house."
"Shit."
"Yeah no kidding. I just checked my voicemail though. No messages.", Maggie said, even though given the fight she and Carrie had she hadn't been expecting to hear from her.
"Virgil is something wrong?", she frowned.
"Why would you think that?"
"I'm a mother, I have a sixth sense for this sort of thing."
"Look just, let me know if you hear from her at all. I have to-"
"So help me if you even think about hanging up!"
Sighing, Virgil ran a hand through his remaining hair.
"Fuck, you sound just like Carrie. Just more edited.", he weakly joked.
"Virgil, what the hell is going on with my sister?"
"There was, an incident at the parade today."
"What kind of incident...", Maggie asked, fear knotting in her gut as she flipped on the news. Soon enough she had a general idea and tears filled her eyes.
"Is she okay? Is Farrah? Wait, if you'd known you wouldn't have bothered calling me."
"Look we're doing everything we can to track down Farrah. Just if Carrie calls you let me know."
"God, If I could I'd leave right now to help you I just-"
"I know, you can't. Shit, my phone's about to conk out. Just call Carrie's cell, see if she answers okay?"
"Virgil if anything changes.."
"I'll deliver the news in person, I promise."
Nodding, Maggie hung up and braced herself on the kitchen counter, taking a few deep breaths before shutting off the news and grabbing her phone.
With Carrie buckled in beside him in the backseat, her head against his shoulder, Brody reached for her phone on his lap and checked the caller. Maggie. He was tempted not to answer, he'd be a fool to, but not only was she Carrie's sister she was her doctor. If anyone would know how to handle this it'd be her.
Taking a few deep breaths to calm the fuck down, he answered.
"Carrie?!"
"No, it's not-"
"Who is this. Who the hell are you?!"
"It's, Brody. Nicholas Brody."