"You sure this is the right part of the complex?", Brody asked as Carrie nodded, walked with him to a row of beat up mobile homes.
"Virgil gave me the exact address.", she shrugged. "And it's not as if the park's that big. We can keep going door to door or ask around."
"Ask what? Hey, there's a guy who looks like an aging deserting version of me in these parts. Mind pointing him out to us?"
"How much do you and your dad look alike?"
"Same eyes, chin.", Brody shrugged.
"What about the hair?"
Smiling softly Carrie reached up, ran her fingers through it.
"Red too. But his beard grew in darker."
"So does yours.", Carrie shrugged, moving her hand back to take his.
"What do you mean? I don't have a beard."
"Sorry, your scruff grows in darker."
"It does not!", Brody protested.
"I sat by your hospital bed for two weeks while you were fucking comatose, Brody. By the time a nurse rolled around to give you a shave, you had scruff and I saw it. If you don't believe me ditch your razor for a week."
"You paid that close attention to my fucking scuff?", Brody asked, as amused as he could be given where they were walking to.
"Yeah. And lots of other things too."
"This is where you tell me that since you used to spy I should expect this kind of thing."
"You should expect this kind of thing because you were lucky enough to get my attention, Sergeant.", Carrie corrected as he softly smiled, pulled her close as they stopped outside one of the mobile homes.
"You ready?", she asked as he swallowed hard, then nodded, marched up to the door before knocking. Not getting a response he knocked again, louder this time.
"What the fuck's all that goddamn noise, Nancy!", a gruff voice barked on the other side. "I told you I'd fix your piece of shit shower tomo-"
Opening the door Nathaniel's icy eyes narrowed.
"You're not Nancy."
"No. I'm not Nancy.", Brody said coldly, looking his father over. His once closely cut red hair had gone gray and longer, and his face was creased, tired. He was wearing a flannel shirt, worn jeans, and reeked of cigarette smoke.
The tall, stern Marine that Brody feared and respected growing up was replaced with an aged, beer bellied recluse. But the eyes were the same. Icy blue and stone cold serious. His stare would've stopped a younger Brody in his tracks. Now it barely made him flinch.
"Who's the blonde?"
"I think if anyone should be asking questions here it's me.", Brody snarled as Nathaniel cleared his throat, took a step back.
"Fine. Come on inside then. Otherwise the neighbors are gonna have a goddamned field day."
Peering past him into the cramped trailer, seeing it was relatively clean Brody reached back, took Carrie's hand and helped her up the step inside.
Closing the door behind them, securing it, Nathaniel reached into a cupboard above the sink for a bottle, two glasses.
"Want a drink?"
"No thanks.", Brody spat, surveying the tiny living area.
"What about you, sweetheart?"
"No. Thanks.", Carrie snorted, motioning for Brody to sit with her on the small couch.
"Sorry it's not the Four Seasons or anything. I'd have tidied up but wasn't expecting company.", Nathaniel snorted, plopping into a beat recliner across the way from them, bourbon in hand.
"So, what brings you by, son? You and Blondie looking for a place to park your camper?", he asked, leaning forward with a smirk. "Between you and me, I think the spot across the way'll be up for grabs soon. Poor Bertie. Doesn't have too much time left."
"We didn't come here to look at fucking property!", Brody growled.
"Well, you mind telling me why you did? I mean you did drop in unannounced, son. You were taught better than that."
Shaking his head in awe he couldn't help but laugh.
"Brody...", Carrie whispered, touching his shoulder. Wondering if he was on the verge of hysterics.
"You know I think I could use that drink."
Standing up he crossed the space and held up the bottle.
"Straight bourbon. Now I know where I got my taste for it from."
Pouring himself a shot, he downed it in one gulp as Carrie looked on nervously, bit her lip when he poured another.
"Listen son, if you wanna get lit there's a dive bar just down the street. I'm not here for that shit in my home."
"Your home, huh?", Brody asked, looking and then casually walking around the coffee table, the rest of the space.
"So this is where you decide to fucking settle down? After years of moving Mom and I around, dragging us from base to base, state to state. Saying it was for the Corp so we couldn't dare question it. This piece of shit is where Nathaniel Brody decided to hang his goddamn hat?"
"Son..."
"You know if your dream home was in a trailer park couldn't you have just told us?", Brody asked bitterly. "Just said something to let us know it was what you really wanted? I mean, wouldn't that have been easier than playing dead? Faking us all out?"
"What I did-"
"What you did...was let us think you died in a truck bombing overseas that killed two hundred and forty one Marines. You let two of them come to our door with a flag after they said they couldn't give us a body to bury. You let Mom cry every fucking night for a year!"
"Your mother was better off without me.", Nathaniel said solemnly. "You both were. I would've come back and broken both your hearts anyway.", he said softly, sipping some of his drink.
Looking between the man in the chair and the one shakily standing, Carrie's eyes narrowed.
"So you just decided to fucking abandon them?!", she yelled as Nathaniel met her gaze. "Just hide out here while the military recognized you as a hero? You let your family think you died in action when all you fucking were was a gutless coward!"
"Nick, your girl here's got some moxie.", Nathaniel said dryly before his eyes clouded over.
"Your mom did too. Went toe to toe with me, kept me in line. But she was sweet. She was something. Something I just would've decimated.", he admitted, looking over at Brody.
"I didn't want her to be burdened, Nick."
"No, you just left that burden to me. For Christ's sake, I was a fucking teenager! And I had to be the one to hold her up and make sure she ate and keep her from falling apart!"
"Yeah well, your responsibility to her didn't stop you from enlisting, did it?", the older man asked as Brody glared, approached him. Standing up, swaying slightly Nathaniel looked him squarely in the eye.
"My stint may have hurt your mother. I admit that. But your stint was the one that fucking killed her.", he said as Brody lunged at him.
"Brody don't...shit. Brody!"
Running up, Carrie tried to get in between them, intervene, but not wanting her caught in the middle of them Brody backed up, pulled her to stand behind him.
Watching, Nathaniel shook his head, smiled. "Have to be the protector, don't you? Not that she needs it.", he said, nodding to Carrie as she glared.
"Yep, still need to always be the hero. You get that from me. I wanted the same thing. Until I realized it would fucking kill me."
Sitting back in the recliner he took another sip of his drink.
"I had a choice, Nicky. I could die a blown up war vet, or die here an old drunk bastard. At least letting you think it was the former, let you think I was something to be respected. If I'd done my stint, come home after what I saw, I'd have been a fucked up wreck. Just would've broken you and your mom down anyway. Broken you even more than you are right fucking now.", he said knowingly.
"From what I can tell you're a fucked up wreck too, son. Not exactly surprised. That's what war does."
"Well at least I had the guts to stick it out.", Brody spat, downing his second drink from where he was standing in the corner. "I didn't desert anyone until they captured and fucking sold me to Nazir, not leaving me with much choice. At least I knew if I was gonna die, it was gonna be as a fucking Marine. Like the one I thought you were!"
"But you didn't die, did you?", Nathaniel snorted. "No, you just got so fucked up over there you were ready to come home in that vest and blow yourself to bits. Blow your fucking family to bits along with you."
"And you think what you did to us wasn't the same damn thing? You think what you did didn't destroy your family, Mom and I?", Brody asked, trying to keep his voice from cracking.
"For Christ's sake, Dad. If you'd come back...we would've helped. We could've at least tried to...you didn't even let us!"
"You could've tried to do what, Nicky? Get the flashbacks and shakes and PTS fucking D to stop?!", Nathaniel shouted. "You think your mother could've coped with that shit any better than that wife of yours must've?", he asked. "She couldn't handle what you turned into. Same as I know your mother couldn't have handled what I turned into."
Turning to Carrie he looked curiously at her. "Seems though you think you can, Blondie."
"My name's not Blondie.", she spat. "It's Carr-"
"Whatever you call yourself. After everything I've seen on the news, you...you signed onto a life with him?", Nathaniel laughed. "Shit. I don't even want to know what your story is.", he snorted, getting a glare in return.
"The only story we're here to talk about is the one leaked to the papers about "N" Brody. Except nobody's exactly caught onto the N standing for Nathaniel yet."
"Except for you. You're a smart one, aren't you?"
"Smart enough to know all we need from you is this."
When she reached into her purse for a sheet of paper, Brody frowned, knelt next to her.
"I thought you said you didn't have a plan.", he muttered.
"I fucking improvised.", she muttered back, then stood and handed the paper and pen over to Nathaniel.
"What the fuck is this?"
"It's a correction for you to sign. We'll submit it to the papers to get them off Brody's back. And hopefully get the cops onto yours."
Shaking his head disapprovingly Nathaniel rolled his eyes, crumpled the sheet in one hand.
"Thought you said you were smart, sweetheart.", he snorted. "You think I'm just gonna sign this rinky dink sheet here? Expose myself after thirty goddamn years?"
"If it prevents your son from fending off reporters the rest of his fucking life!", Carrie snapped.
"It's not just my son you're working in the best interests of though, is it?", Nathaniel asked, gesturing to her belly that she instinctively cradled.
"Look, sweetheart. No matter what I sign for you, however many reporters I fend off, that kid is still gonna have to grow up with a would've been suicide bomber of a daddy. And there's no amount of spin or findings or fucking wishful thinking that's gonna change that.", he said as Brody's jaw clenched.
"Well nothing's gonna change the fact that my father was nothing more than a deserting coward! I mean, shit. Was my grandfather a dictator in disguise, got the legacy started?", he scoffed.
"We're all disgraces, Dad. And I'm not excusing what I've done. But so fucking help me don't make it sound like you're an exception. I was willing to die to get a little boy I loved the justice he deserved. Justice the country I served decided to overlook. You claimed you died in action and maybe your soul did, but you didn't fake your death to do right by me. Or Mom."
Fighting tears he fought to keep talking.
"You did it because you're a selfish bastard. Who dragged us from base to base out of service to the Corp, but when the time came you ditched your unit and ran like a damned coward. Ran out here to do fuck knows what with the rest of your life. I certainly fucked mine up, but at least now I'm trying to pick up the pieces, start over the best I can. The same way that Mom tried. Really, what the fuck would she be saying if she was standing here right now?"
Swallowing hard, Nathaniel finished his drink, spoke.
"She'd thank me, son. She'd thank me for not letting her turn into her.", he said, nodding to Carrie.
"A woman who bends over backwards to save a man that can't fucking be saved. No matter how much he wishes he can be. You won't get a new start with that kid or with her. By the time you're my age, Nicky, in your heart, in your head, you're still gonna be trapped in the same cell you nearly died in. There's no escaping that, or that vest. What you saw and went through is still gonna haunt you. The same way what I saw still haunts me."
Slowly standing, muttering something about seeing them out, looking between the men, seeing as Brody was spent and broken enough Carrie took him by the hand, led him out the door only to feel a tap on the shoulder.
"Hey, good luck saving this one, Blondie. You're gonna need it."
"And you can go fuck yourself.", Carrie hissed, twining her fingers with Brody's as Nathaniel swore at them, went back inside.
Looking up at Brody, seeing he was white as a sheet and shaking, letting go of his hand Carrie slipped her arm around him, held him close.
"C'mon honey, let's just go, okay? Let's just go.", she coaxed as he nodded, let her lead him back to the car.