Okay here's the latest. Had to wrestle around a lot with this chapter. And I'm wary about what I'm setting up here but have had it plotted out for awhile, really no turning back at this point. Anyway, take as you will. I promise I'll explain myself more in the next update. Thanks so so much lipamo and Bookworm for the reviewage. More to come soon. :)
His eyes cracking open, Brody quickly shut them in an effort to keep the room from spinning. He hadn't been this hungover since the first time he and Carrie came up here together. Shakily sitting up on the cabin floor he ran a hand over his face, let out a groan. Trying to remember what had landed him here last night. Then seeing the empty bottle on the kitchen counter, it started coming back to him. The storm, the dock, the argument, him being a pathetic asshole.
Reflecting on what he could remember made him feel even more nauseous. He wished he'd never have to find out the rest.
Slowly getting to his feet he staggered over to the bathroom. Stripped before jumping into a cold shower. Hoping it would help wake him up. Once showered, wrapping himself in a towel he went back to the front where he'd left his clothes. While dressing, he realized that Carrie wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. Looking out onto the porch there was no sign of her either. Ashamed it had taken him this long to realize she wasn't around, he rolled his eyes and went to the back bedroom, the only other place she could be unless she'd taken off.
Opening the door he saw her sitting on the floor, her back mostly to him. When he realized she was folding a shirt into an overnight bag he froze, fearing the worst. What had he done last night that had upset, worked her up enough to send her home?
"Hey Carrie? Carrie?", he called from the doorway. Not getting a response from her he tensed up even more. Didn't even feel right to approach her.
"Carrie? Shit. I'm so...look, last night, however I was acting. Whatever I did or said. It had nothing to do with you, okay? For Christ's sake, I was drunk off my ass. I acted like a fucking moron.", he said bitterly. "Look, if I did anything to make you upset I'm sorry. Just, I'm begging you not to go before we talk about it. Before you can curse me out for what I did and I can beg forgiveness and we can try to move past it. Please, Carrie.", he pleaded, working up the nerve to enter the room.
"Please, love. Can we just tal-"
When he touched her shoulder, made her jump, realizing he'd startled her he jumped back in turn.
"What the...Jesus Christ, Brody!", Carrie yelled, tugging her earbuds down that were blaring jazz loud enough for him to hear.
"What the fuck, announce yourself! I didn't even hear you!", she sputtered.
"Shit, Carrie...I didn't. I'm sorry, I-"
"Look, if you could quit finding new and improved ways to frighten me up here that would be really fucking great.", she snapped.
"I didn't know you had music going. I'm sorry, I-"
"Ugh, can you please quit saying that?!"
"Saying what? I'm sorry?", Brody asked as she rolled her eyes.
"Didn't you fucking hear me?!", Carrie spat. "Ever since I got out of the shower last night you've been either self flagellating or apologizing to me. And take it from me it gets really fucking old."
Holding her hand out, she nodded for him to help her to her feet but he stood still, didn't comply until she cleared her throat, got his attention.
"Shit." Reaching his hand out, he went to help her and went to apologize again, only to get a look as she stood.
"I didn't mean to work you up, Carrie. Now or last night."
"I know, okay? But it's done. Let's just forget about it.", she sighed. When she went to step around him though he stepped in front of her.
"Hey..."
"What makes you say it's done?"
"Excuse me?"
"Because if it was done and forgotten about, you wouldn't be in here blaring your jazz and packing a bag. And you wouldn't be giving me that look every two seconds either."
"What look?"
"That annoyed, frustrated, Brody you're a fucking asshole look.", he sighed as she suppressed a smirk.
"Tell me what I did."
"Brody..."
"Just tell me what I fucking did, Carrie!", he snapped before taking a breath, sitting on the bed. "I remember going outside, getting wasted. You finding me, bringing me to the cabin. What happened on the dock though? Because now you've got a foot out the fucking door and won't even look me in the eye. You...you've got to tell me whatever it was I kept apologizing for. What did I fucking-"
"You didn't do shit, okay?!", Carrie interrupted. "Look, you got shitfaced. You said things about yourself that scared and shook me up. But that's not the reason I'm in here packing a bag.", she said before it dawned on him why she was getting ready to leave.
"You have to go back. To the hospital.", he said solemnly before seeing his duffle bag in the corner, packed and zipped up. Getting him frowning.
"Hold on, I'm going with you?"
"Brody..."
"Jesus, Carrie. I can't go back. You know I can't!", he sighed, in disbelief she'd even entertained the idea. "And even if I could go to just drop you off, I don't need a full duffle of stuff for one damn car ride. I-"
"We're not going to the hospital.", Carrie interrupted as he turned, looked at her.
"What?"
"We're not...I'm not. Not yet anyway."
"And how the fuck did you arrange something like that, I..." Trailing off, remembering the last time she'd been this calm and prepared and had that damn determined look in her eyes, he laughed without humor. "Don't tell me you decided we're-"
"What?"
"You...are you fucking cr-" Catching himself before he insulted her he shook his head. "We're not running away, Carrie! We can't possibly...what about Farrah?", he sputtered. "Is she just staying with Quinn indefinitely? You'd really do something like that to-"
"Fuck, Brody. No! Of course I wouldn't.", Carrie spat, clearly offended at the accusation. "I'm not abandoning Farrah! I'd never do that."
"Well what, is she coming with us then?"
"No. She...she can't."
"Well you fucking lost me then.", Brody sighed, his head starting to spin from more than just his hangover. Letting out a groan he put his head in his hands, prompting Carrie to sit down next to and reach over, rub the back of his neck and shoulders.
"Is that helping?", she asked.
"Somewhat, yeah.", he sighed before sitting up again.
"So would you telling me whatever it is you don't want to though.", he said, giving her a knowing look. The look on her's though before she spoke made his stomach knot.
"Last night, after you went to sleep, I called Virgil. I asked him and Max to do some digging into Lauder's story. Dissect it. Try and disprove his point."
"And what?", Brody asked.
When she bit her lip, the knot in his stomach doubled in size.
"They couldn't do it."
"What?"
"They couldn't discredit him, Brody. They tried, but..."
Trailing off at the look on his face she sadly watched as he stood up, started pacing.
"They didn't fucking try hard enough then."
"Brody..."
"I'm not a fucking deserter, Carrie!", he barked as she nodded.
"I know.", she said softly, working up the nerve to tell him the rest. Sensing so, Brody stopped pacing. Looked at her anxiously.
"What else do you know?"
"I know who the someone else was."
"Someone else? What does that even fucking mean?!", Brody scoffed.
"The someone else discussed in the article. Someone else with your first initial. Your last name."
"Who..."
Looking at her incredulously, after the most bizarre possibility dawned on him Brody shook his head. "No."
"Brody."
"No, you're wrong, Carrie. Your friends are fucking wrong! They...they fucked up. They had to."
"I-"
"For Christ's sake! Max is a Mario Kart playing mute! You're taking him seriously about this? Mother fucking..."
"Hey!", Carrie snarled. "I get you're upset but don't attack my friends after they do us a fucking favor!", she spat as he let out a breath, bowed his head before apologizing.
"I know they're trying to help us, I just-"
"Look...", Getting up she turned him towards her, rubbed his upper arm. "What they turned up threw me too. A lot. But Max and Virgil wouldn't fuck up. They don't fuck up. Not with stuff like this. Especially when it's this serious.", she said as he turned away again, avoided her touch.
"They were beyond thorough, Brody. And this morning on the phone with them I went over all of their findings. Every bit of research, every detail. They vetted you. And when they couldn't find evidence linking you to desertion they looked into other people fitting the criteria. What we came up with, who we came up with, it's the only possible answer."
Seeing how still, shellshocked he looked Carrie took him by the arm again, walked him back to the bed and sat beside him. Stroked his hair.
"We discussed how to make all this go away though. And we decided the only option is to take a drive to confront-"
"No."
"Brody, the only shot we have at proving you're not the deserter the press says you are, is to bring the actual one out of hiding."
"I can't do it.", Brody said numbly, shaking his head that her fingertips were still stroking.
"You can. I'll be with you the whole time."
"Carrie, I can't.", he said as she scoffed, stood up.
"Okay so what happens if we don't. Lauder doesn't get called out on his bullshit, making him think he can add on to this story or concoct a new one, making his vendetta against you even more damaging. You stay here at the cabin indefinitely or go back to Canada to avoid the camera crews that you know will come after you, or me. And what about me? I grab Farrah and we follow you? What kind of way is that for us all to live? Unless you'd rather I raise the baby alone. And when he or she asks about you someday I say you're a fucking fugitive and pariah and the only way to find you is to take a family vacation to the fucking woods!", she snapped as he shrugged.
"I said last night you'd be better off without me.", he mumbled as Carrie knelt down, took a grip on his jaw.
"And I said, I don't tend to do what's fucking better for me.", she said firmly as he shook his head, sat back.
"Carrie...if you're right about all this. You know what my doing this would fucking mean."
"Yeah. I do. But I told you, I'll be right there. I talked to Abby. She's...okay with all of it."
"She is?"
"She's okay enough. She knows what your future being fucked would mean for mine.", Carrie shrugged, one hand resting on her belly while the other stroked his bristly cheek. Taking hold of her hand on his face he turned, kissed her palm.
"I still...can't."
"You have to. This is the one thing Lauder hoped we wouldn't do. Is banking on us not doing. It'll give us the upper hand, Brody. Abby gave us three days, that's more than enough time to get to West Virginia and back."
"West Virginia...?", Brody breathed.
"What? I drove to Canada in one night. A trip over the state line is fucking doable."
"How did you track him to..."
"Virgil got an exact address. Some trailer park up in the mountains. It was a decent hideout, but we'll be able to find it."
"I just... can't...all this time he's been..."
"I know. I know."
Moving to wrap her arms around his neck, he held onto her just as tight.
"I can't believe it, Carrie."
Nodding she sniffed back tears, rubbed his back. "I can't believe I didn't know until now that your dad's first name is Nathaniel."