Okay here's the latest. This chapter ends kinda abruptly, please forgive the cliffhangy cutoff at the end, an explanation will be forthcoming! Thanks so so much Bookworm, lipamo, and my lovely guest for the reviewage. More to come soon! :)
After getting a little more kissing in once Quinn had left the room, Brody reluctantly left Carrie's room and the hospital and was driving back to her house. He hadn't gotten over a mile on the main drag though before his phone went off in his pocket. Pulling over he checked the caller, rolled his eyes.
"Listen, Quinn. I know it's been awhile since we had some quality time together but shit, I just saw you at the hospital."
"Yeah, I fucking-"
"You know you really ought to work on being less needy. Honestly, it's a bit of a turn-off."
"BRODY!"
"What! Just saying..."
"Well just shut the fuck up and listen to me. If you're on your way to Carrie's I need you to turn the fuck around."
Smile faded out Brody frowned.
"Why? What the fuck is going on?"
"Just the D.C press congregating in the middle of the goddamn street.", Quinn spat.
"You're shitting me, right?!", Brody exclaimed. "Why? How come?"
"I don't know! Didn't feel like marching over to the slew of reporters on Carrie's lawn to ask! And I certainly didn't want to stick around with J.J in the passenger seat."
"Mother fucking...shit. What about Farrah! She's still at the-"
"Farrah's fine. She and J.J are in line getting popcorn now. I brought them both to the movies.", Quinn said, shuffling ahead in the ticket line.
"None of the reporters-"
"They didn't get near or say a fucking word to her. I went to the neighbors, led her out the back way. She didn't even know they were camped outside until I told her."
"Good. That's good.", Brody sighed, feeling slightly more at ease as he put the car in drive. "I gotta see what the fuck is happening though. For Christ's sake, if they're on Carrie's fucking lawn! I-"
"Brody, no. Do not take a page out of the Mathison goddamn playbook. Not with this."
"Quinn, if they're dredging up that fucking press conference you and her set up-"
"You should be nowhere near any of it. Trust me, it'll just make this shit even worse.", Quinn said knowingly. "Look, don't worry about Farrah. She can stay at my place until all of this blows over. You go to the mosque.", he ordered.
"I'm heading there now. Just about to turn into the drive..." Trailing off seeing a TV van parked in the front lot, Brody swore under his breath.
"Brody? Damn it, what's-"
"I have to go, Quinn."
"But-"
Hanging up before Quinn could get another word in, Brody pulled into the back lot behind the apartment complex. Once there he cut over to the community center but went in through the side passcode protected entrance. Closest to Zahira's and the imam's offices.
He hadn't gotten a foot in the door though when Zahira grabbed hold of his arm, dragged him into her office before shutting the door behind her.
"Zahira...Jesus, what-"
"I am sorry. I just assumed since you came in the back way you did not want to be noticed."
"Well you dragging me in here by the arm was pretty fucking noticeable!", Brody snapped as she rolled her eyes.
"I made certain that nobody was around.", she retorted. "And you do not have to worry about that truck. There is a news crew and reporter here covering the story about the spelling bee finalist. Erica? She is in the after school group you used to supervise."
"Yeah I remember. She kicked my ass at Scrabble every time.", Brody smiled fondly before frowning, looking at her curiously.
"What is it?"
"You said that I don't have to worry about that truck. Why would you think I'd be worried about a news truck at all? What do you know?"
"You mean you have not heard?", Zahira asked, looking at him with concern as she grabbed her phone off her desk, scrolled to something before handing it to him.
Taking it, after squinting to read the headline on the blog post, corresponding article, Brody's jaw fell and his face went white.
"Come here, Nicholas. Please, take a seat.", Zahira coaxed, but he stayed frozen in place, shook his head.
"It's not true.", she assured. "There are lies and liars all over the Internet. A horrible person told and spread this one. I am certain of it."
"I can't stay here.", Brody said numbly.
"It is alright! The press do not know that you are employed here. You can stay in your apartment again. We will provide you with meals, whatever you need. You will remain protected."
"I can't. I won't risk that. If the press tracked me to Carrie's it's only a matter of time before they trace the mosque back to me too. That would put you, your husband, everything you've built here at risk. I'm not going to let that happen.", he said resolutely. Handing the phone back to Zahira he turned to leave the office.
Shaking her head stubbornly, Zahira moved to stand in front of him. Blocking his path. "Where else are you going to go?"
"Someplace safe. It's secluded there too. I swear, I'm just going to stay until all of this blows over. It's for the best, Zahira. You know it is. Please. I know what I'm doing."
Biting her lip, Zahira looked thoughtfully at him, then nodded.
"Alright. But you will take the extra van. And wear this." Handing him a baseball cap and some glasses she nodded for him to put them on.
"Zahira, this isn't-"
"Yes. It is.", she said firmly. "You will stay in the apartment until dark, then you will take the van. Is Farrah being looked after?"
"Yes. She's staying with a friend."
"You can trust this friend?"
"Yes.", Brody said, grateful but still surprised that Quinn had tipped him off about the reporters.
"What about Carrie?"
"Calling her now is too much of a risk. For all I know the press could already be trying to get to her at St. Mary's."
"She needs to know what is happening, Nicholas.", Zahira said sternly. "I will contact her for you."
"No, for Christ's sake! I've involved you enough, I-"
"You are the reason my brother held onto his home. His livelihood. And you and Carrie and Farrah are important to me. I want the three of you to find peace together. All that Allah will grant you.", she said sincerely as Brody gave her a humble nod, swallowed hard.
"That's all that I want too. I swear, if we are granted it, you and your husband will sit in the front row at our wedding."
"I will hold you to that.", Zahira smiled, hugging him before insisting again that he be careful. Wait in the apartment until dark.
After making him swear that he would, when he left the office she reached for her phone. Dialed the hospital front desk and asking to be put through to Carrie's room.
Setting her halfway decent hand of cards down on the bed, frowning, Ann stood up from her and Carrie's poker game. Picked up the receiver on the wall.
"Hello, Carrie Mathison's room."
"This does not sound like Carrie.", Zahira frowned.
"She just left to use the ladies room. I'm a..a friend. Can I take a message?"
Her frown deepening hearing the panic in the other woman's voice, Ann bit her lip. Something major was obviously happening and whatever it was it would concern Carrie.
"I promise as soon as she comes back I'll fill her in. I just don't think the desk will patch you through to her room a second time. You're better off just staying on the line. At least that way someone gets the message.", Ann said, earning a sigh before the woman started explaining.
Listening intently her eyes widened in alarm. "My goodness, I...I can't believe-"
"Can't believe what?", Carrie asked curiously, walking back in the room as Ann jumped, slammed the phone down.
"Carrie! You startled me."
"What's going on? Did someone call my room?"
"I-"
"Can you at least tell me who it was?"
"I didn't catch her name.", Ann said, met with another frown.
"Look I can just call down to the desk, ask who they patched through. I'll find out who the fuck called either way so you might as well just tell me!"
"I told you, I didn't catch her name. She was speaking quickly, with an accent. It was difficult to completely understand her."
"Well what did you happen to fucking understand?", Carrie snorted. "Obviously you got at least general details from her otherwise you wouldn't be so on edge!"
"All I know is there's a situation going on. I-"
Interrupted by her own phone going off in her pocket, seeing it was Esperanza calling Ann hastily answered, excused herself.
"What the fuck!", Carrie spat, watching her as she cut down the hall before rolling her eyes, walking back to the bed. Once there she heard another knock, frowned.
"Yes?"
"Hello, Ms. Mathison?", a young brunette asked shyly. "I just wanted to see if Frances was still in here with you?"
"Jesus, how popular is she tonight?", Carrie scoffed.
"I'm sorry?", the younger nurse frowned.
"No, she's not here. Hopefully though she'll be back in a minute." Shrugging, Carrie stacked the deck of cards then shuffled them. Glancing up she saw the volunteer shyly standing in the door.
"You can sit down in here and wait for her if you want.", she offered. Nodding gratefully, the younger woman thanked her, perched in the chair across the way.
"Is there something important? Something going on that she needs to know? Or-"
"No, nothing like that. Just the latest gossip around here. Her and I started volunteering around the same time. We're friends!"
"I see.", Carrie nodded, eying her with interest. "She never mentioned you. At least she hasn't yet. What's your name?"
"Sharon. Sharon Davis."
"Well Sharon, you know I'm not exactly opposed to gossip.", she smiled. Even if this girl didn't know anything about the 'situation' Frances had alluded to, Carrie didn't see the problem with getting a little dirt. Even if the secrets weren't pertaining to national security, they were better than nothing.
"I know Frances will be back soon but if you're in a rush, you could just tell me and I'll pass it along to her."
"Well, my break is almost up.", Sharon grinned. Taking her phone out of her pocket she started scrolling on it, perched on Carrie's bed.
"There was this blog entry from a few days ago that an online paper picked up and ran with. Now the whole story is blowing up. There was even a local news team sent to cover it today.", she said, pulling up the sites before handing the phone over. Then turned, smiled.
"Frances, hi! Perfect timing, I was just about to...hey!"
Thrown when Frances ran over, tried to grab the phone from Carrie, Sharon watched as the blonde refused to let go of it. Her eyes widening as they scanned the text on the page. Rereading the headline and caption across the top.
"Detonator, Disgrace, also Deserter? Source comes forth with claim one 'N. Brody', reported AWAL by unit, commanding officers."