Disclaimer - I do not own Homeland. That pleasure belongs to Showtime. No copyright infringement or money making scheme intended. This is purely for reading enjoyment.

Lipamo - thanks so much for reading. I did think while I was writing that it may be confusing, but hoping the last line would sort that.

LilMisfit - with you there. Was not an easy line to write. Dragging it all back up. The things we do for our fics.

Luckyu - glad to know you're still enjoying it. Here's the next one.

Shockey 13 - thanks for reading/reviewing. Ye that is exactly her and it's a tad infuriating.

A/N I refer to a scene in this chapter as being part of this story, but which you have not read about yet...it will probably be done as a flashback in a future chapter. For any Doctor Who fans think timey wimey, wibbly wobbly. Hope that make sense.

Stephen is keeping a close eye on Carrie. She is fidgeting and tells him she's fine, but he knows she isn't. He knows it's not Alayna she is worried about because Allayna is with Maggie. He knows exactly what is wrong, but she isn't talking.

"So what about this one then?", he asks, pointing to the rug.

"Yes, that's lovely", Carrie responds nonchalantly.

Stephen shakes his head. It wasn't lovely and certainly would not be going on his floor. It was a pink, fluffy monstrosity, but it had at least served his purpose. She wasn't paying attention.

"You want to talk about it?", he asks her walking further down the aisle to find a decent rug.

"Why would I want to talk about a rug?", she replies with a harsh laugh.

"Look at the rug, Carrie."

"I did."

"No you didn't. I know there is no way in hell you'd let me put that on my floor, nevermind actually suggest it."

Carrie looks up at the rug and realises he's right. She'd shoot him if he tried to put that on his floor. She shrugs her shoulders sheepishly.

"So, you want to talk?", Stephen asks again.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm fine", she answers testily.

Stephen knew that tone. It was the tone that told him there was no point trying to push her further at the moment.

Carrie was starting to feel paranoid. Everyone seems to be whispering, putting their heads together. Tones of indignance and anger were evident. She tries to ignore it, but can''t. The reintroduction of Brody's name into the public had knocked the stuffing right out of her and wound the American public up again.

She follows Stephen around into the next aisle automatically as though her feet were working of their own accord.

"Did you see him?", the angry voice of a woman, interrupts Carrie's thoughts.

"Yes, the nerve", her friend responds just as angry and just as indignantly.

Carrie looks up to find them looking at someone. As they move out of the way, chattering angrily to one another, Carrie sees who it is.

Stephen has resinged himself to the fact that Carrie is going to be useless on this "window" shopping expadition. He knew it couldn't be helped. It wasn't her fault, but he had been hoping for a cheerier welcome back to D.C.

"This one looks good", he says.

He hears Carrie gasp.

"Right, ok. It's nice, but not that nice. No need to over do it, Carrie."

Getting no response, Stephen looks up to find Carrie staring at something. She is still as a statue and seems to be completely unaware he had been speaking. He walks up until he's near enough beside her.

"Carrie", he says, gently tugging on her sleeve. He didn't want to startle her. She looks round at him and he sees a mixture of emotions dancing across her face. She turns back to where she was looking before.

"What is it?", he aks her worried now.

Carrie, either unwilling or unable to speak, simply nods her head towards someone who seems to be attracting a lot of attention.

Stephen sees the young man going about his business. To the untrained eye, he would seem to be oblivious that he was attracting so much attention, but Stephen could tell that he knew and was doing his best to ignore it. His eyes were intermittently darting from side to side. His ears were perked, his body was so tense, Stephen thought every muscle must be aching and he was moving at a speed that a fully trained agent would be proud of. He had a list and was clearly trying to get everything and get out of here as quickly as possible. Stephen had no idea why he was the subject of such palpable dislike.

Turning attention back to Carrie, he asks, "who is he?"

Carrie looks at him sadly before answering, "Christopher Brody."

She could see, out of the corner of her eye, Stephen's look of understanding and sympathy. Suddenly, she felt so angry. She didn't want it, didn't deserve it. If anyone needed it in this moment, it was Chris Brody. She wanted to go over and do something to help Chris. No one had tried to do anything to him, but Carrie knew he was aware of everything around him...of how unwelcome he was here. She wanted to go over and speak to him, see the stares she would get for doing so and dare anyone to say something to her about it. Because she was itching for a fight, itching to scream that he hadn't done it, that you couldn't find a dead man, but she knew she couldn't for many reasons. She also knew her help wouldn't be welcome, so she stood where she was, powerless to protect his son as she had been to protect him, all the while the cruel world left its mark.

Carrie moves and Stephen follows, window shopping be damned. They were following Chris Brody now. Stephen thought he knew why.

"Do you want to go and speak to him?", he asks.

Carrie shakes her head, "wouldn't be a good idea."

They watch as he leaves the store, walking fast with his head down.

"You want to make sure he gets home ok?"

Carrie looks at him gratefully, nodding her head.

They were following Chris in the car. Carrie hadn't said a word since they'd gotten in. As they pulled into a street, Stephen saw Carrie tense. He guessed this must be home.

She hadn't been here since she came to tell them about Brody. She remembers how she sat in this street, watching Brody before following him to the suport group. She interrupted him and had gotten his interest like she had wanted. He'd never went back after that. Had she pulled him away from something that might have helped him? She'd been told many times that what ifs did not do anyone any good. She knew that but now he was gone, it was all she had.

Stephen parks the car a few houses down from the Brody's.

Carrie watches Chris walk up to the front door. Once he's inside they can go. He's safe for today. Today. She finds heself wondering about tomorrow and the day after that. Carrie notices that Chris has his key in the door but hasn't opened it yet. She sees him begin to turn his head and automatically ducks down in the passenger seat.

Stephen does not flinch as Carrie ducks down, pretending to be looking at his phone, all the while keeping one eye on the Brody kid. He's looking at the car. He probably shouldn't be surprised as the kid had seemed hyper aware in the store. If he'd seen the car on the way home, he will already have seen Carrie despite her efforts now to hide.

As soon as Chris had shut the front door behnd him, Stephen pulls away to leave the street.

"Do you think he saw me?", Carrie asks.

"Possibly", Stephen answers, honestly.

Carrie sighs.

"That bad?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Last time I was here, it was to tell them that Brody was dead but that I couldn't tell them exactly why or how. They made it very clear they never wanted to see me again and I don't blame them. They don't know about Allayna and it's probably going to have to stay that way. I don't want Chris thinking he's being followed and if he's seen us, he probably will. Apparently I can't do right for doing wrong", Carrie finishes, sighing again.

Carrie is staring out of the window in silence, but Stephen can read her like a book right now. He'd gone through this, still is in someways, he supposes. He'd done a bit of digging on the Congressman and hadn't found much. Looking again at Carrie's sad reflection in the car window, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He'd just have to dig a bit harder.