Thank you so much igottagetbacktohogwarts and Brighteyes2442 for the reviews! :D Noticed some new following/favoriting going on too so, yay!
This update ends a little too abruptly but I needed a cutoff point. More to come soon though. :)

Stopped at a red light, Khaliq glanced over his shoulder at Farrah curled up in the backseat of his van. She'd stopped crying, but the Happy Meal he'd bought her sat untouched in the bag on the seat next to her.
"Farrah, why aren't you eating?"
"I..I'm not, hungry.", she said softly as she stared out the window.
"It is alright. I will cook us something when we arrive."
"Where?"
Not sure how to answer her, not sure Samir would like him answering her, chewing his lip he finally replied.
"It is a surprise."
"I don't..want surprise.", Farrah sighed, wiping at her eyes.
"I want to go home."
"Farrah I cannot-"
"Take me home!", she wailed.
"Farrah if I take you home, I will have to leave."

Frowning, she wiped her eyes.
"No..you stay with me! And Carrie!", she said. Smiling for the first time in an hour just at the idea of that. She knew that Carrie and her big brother would get along fine if she introduced them.
"Farrah, this Carrie. She is not your family."

Smile fading she shook her head.
"No! She..Carrie is-"
"Not your mother.", Khaliq said, getting a confused, overwhelmed look.

Deep down Farrah knew that was true, but it was difficult for her to hear. She knew she had another mom.
She could remember the smell of her perfume and the jewelry she wore and if she really concentrated could picture the way she looked when she smiled.
But Carrie was the one who'd taught her to read and made her waffles and calmed her down after she had bad dreams. And it didn't matter to Farrah what she called her or who she thought of her as. She missed her and wasn't willing to lose her forever. Even if it meant she could be with her older brother.
"I don't..care.", she said defiantly.
"Well what about our other brother? Would you care to meet him?", Khaliq asked as Farrah looked up curiously, and gave him a small nod. Not much of one but enough to keep him driving.

...

He'd knelt next to the couch watching her for what felt like hours, but it only had been fifteen minutes or so.
Carrie hadn't moved, still staring vacantly at nothing particular on the opposite wall.
She still looked lost, alone, someplace where she shouldn't be, and she'd looked like that for too fucking long now.
It took all Brody's strength not to break down in tears or punch a wall. Possibly both.
Instead though he stayed in place, squeezing her hand before kissing it.

"I'm sorry, Carrie. Damn it. I saw you in the crowd before that fucking gun went off. I should've run over, done something. Kissed you or carried you the fuck out of there before...I'm so sorry."

Not getting a response he moved to stroke her hair when he noticed it. A faint scar on the right side of her forehead. Tracing the mark with his thumb he remembered seeing it back when it was in all its hideous glory, the night he visited her after Nazir's death. He'd hated the man he once claimed to love, so viciously for putting it there.

His eyes traveled to her torn t-shirt sleeve and a purpling bruise underneath it. There were still brush burns on her wrists and upper arms from when she'd fallen. And Brody noticed a small scratch on the left side of her head had lightly bled against her hair.
Debating if he should've followed his instincts, brought her to the hospital instead, his and Maggie's conversation replayed in his mind. Keep her comfortable, calm, don't leave her alone.
He had the not leaving her alone part covered. He wasn't taking his eyes off her anytime soon.
But he also figured she'd be more calm and comfortable if she was a little cleaned up.

Picking her up he brought her into his small bathroom, setting her down on the counter next to the sink.
"Okay love, I'm just gonna help you clean you up a little. Don't worry I won't try anything. Unless you ask."
It wasn't the time to joke but Brody figured if he appeared relaxed, it could only help.

Filling the basin with warm, soapy water he grabbed a washcloth and wet it, bringing it to Carrie's face. Cleaning the scrape on the side of her head, she flinched slightly at the contact but otherwise didn't react.

Shaking his head sadly he kissed her forehead, then massaged the cloth in slow circles on the back of her neck. When her t-shirt started to get saturated, carefully Brody went to remove it. Searching her eyes for any sign that he should stop. Not getting one he washed everywhere on her upper body not covered by her camisole, rewetting the cloth in the warm water frequently so she didn't catch a chill.

Brody was tapping into resistance he hadn't used since being tortured to keep himself in check. She was just as, if not more, beautiful then she was that night in the woods. He just wished her eyes reflected it, gave off that perfect spark again instead of sadness.
He didn't let it get to him though. He knew if he kept it together, stayed in control he'd be able to bring her back. He had to. They'd been through too fucking much to lose each other all over again.

Enveloping her in his arms he reached around to wash her upper back. When his shirt went damp, he blamed the washcloth and her proximity before realizing she was silently sobbing against his chest.
"Hey! Hey...it's okay. Shhh. It's okay Carrie.", he soothed.

When he tried to pull back, wanting to see her, her arm looped up around his neck to keep him in place.
"Easy, easy...love. I'm not going anywhere."
Waiting until she was ready to let go, once she did Brody held her gaze, smoothed her hair as she looked on wide-eyed, totally shocked.
"Brody..."
"Yeah." he smiled softly, cradling her face in his palm.
"It's me."