Running away from home. Just like kids.

Briefings with Saul were getting more and more tense. Carrie could feel the strain on all of them as a real, palpable thing. Beside her, no one had ever had much faith in Brody, which was largely her fault. How could she explain her change of heart without explaining it was exactly that. What was harder was not telling him about how bad it was. Every time she was vague it was a physical pain.

The final straw was a heated conversation about what they would do if he were found out, revealed to be on a mission. They had escape plans, but it was clear very few people in that room gave a damn if they worked. Or if they even existed. She'd been through hell for the man they were dismissing like so much dross and all because... She wasn't that sure why because at this point. It was about Saul, really, and she knew that. That's why when he made a passing comment that made it sound damn like he'd made his decision and Brody didn't figure into it at all, she felt her stomach lurch so badly she almost had to leave the room.

She didn't go to him that night, that would be stupid. She waited a day, all of which was spent wondering when she would throw up. She got there late, just before dark, and sat back to watch the men finish up before meal break. He looked good. Better than when she saw him last, even.