neverwrongagent | Running away from home. Just like kids.

Current Mood: anxious

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.

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From:

posterboymarine

He shuddered hard, then he was on his feet and around her, headed for the bathroom. The sound of retching followed a few moments later, what remained in his stomach taking the fastest route out of his body.

From:

neverwrongagent

Hopefully that would clear out some of the poison. She Got him a bottle of water and went to the bathroom with it. Sitting on the edge of the tub, she waited until he was ready to take it. While she waited, she dampened one of the rough wash clothes for him.

From:

posterboymarine

He took the water after a few minutes, rinsing his mouth out with half of it, then downing the rest. Once the bottle was empty, he sank back against the base of the sink and closed his eyes, just working to steady himself.

From:

neverwrongagent

She shifted behind him, putting her hand on his shoulder before gently rubbing the wash cloth over the back of his neck. Touch had always helped them, even the simplest touches, and she hoped that was still true. "I'll be in this place one day. I'll miss a couple pills, think I'm okay, then I'll be flying. We take care of each other."

From:

posterboymarine

He nodded. "Just needed to take the edge off, make the itch go away." It even sounded like a pathetic excuse to his own ear, but that was how it had happened. The run hadn't helped. "I didn't want to bother you with it." A simple task he had rather epicly failed at, in hind sight.

From:

neverwrongagent

She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head. "And now you know." He knew it was stupid. He knew she didn't want him to do it. He knew she had his back. And if the thought about it, really thought about it, he'd know the last, most important bit. "I promise to be open with you about how I feel. The illness. The way I get. Will you promise to talk to me about this?"

From:

posterboymarine

He thought about that for a few moments, then nodded. "I know I should have. But I didn't want to bother you." Anymore was the implication.

"I'm sorry." And he really was. Which wouldn't likely stop him from doing it again, of course. It was a coping mechanism, pure and simple. One that had been replaced by a relentless training regiment, something he did not have now.

From:

neverwrongagent

She believed he was sorry, but she didn't let that hide her expression of displeasure. For a moment she considered letting it stop there, but that wasn't the best idea. They both had brains that filled in the blanks in wrong ways. "I know. I never doubted that." She exhaled slowly. "We'll fuck up. Both of us. And each fuck up gives us a chance to figure out ways not to do that again. As long as we stay honest with each other, we'll figure it out."

She sighed softly. They hadn't started that way, being honest. "I- I love you. You know that, right?"

From:

posterboymarine

It was odd, the things that were easy to handle in one type of situation and impossible in another. At her declaration, he shuddered hard and hid his head against her. That was just too much and he started to shut down. Of course he knew, but that didn't make a single thing easier.

From:

neverwrongagent

Luckily for him, she got that and didn't take it badly. It wasn't a rejection. She kissed where she could reach for a moment, then shifted so she could get him on his feet and take him to bed. No point getting all cramped up just because they needed some time.

Once they were standing, she got her arms around his middle and hugged him gently.

From:

posterboymarine

That horrible combination of shaky and wired made standing, or at least standing still, a chore and he leaned more heavily against her than he normally did. He let her hug him, feeling far from worthy of that sort of affection, then let her steer him toward the bed.

As the sat, it occurred to him that, because of what he'd done, in his selfishness, they'd guaranteed another day wherever the hell they were. And it was going to be a very shitty day, to boot.

From:

neverwrongagent

Staying put didn't occur to her until she almost stumbled getting all of his length over to the bed. She settled on her knees in front of him, looking up with a concerned expression. "Can you eat?"

From:

posterboymarine

That question earned a rough, broken laugh. "Not hungry." He looked at the bed behind him. "Not going to be able to just lay down, either."

From:

neverwrongagent

She shook her head. He'd be starving when it wore off and there was no putting him a car until then. Not for more than a quarter hour or so. She glanced back at the bed behind them. "Other uses for that thing."

From:

posterboymarine

He stared at her for a full minute, then started to laugh. "Ever fucked on speed, Ms. Mathison?" Not that he had, either. Opiates were his drug of circumstance.

From:

neverwrongagent

She managed to stifle her laugh, but she didn't try to hide it. "I have not. Even at my worst I did understand that me on speed is a bad, a very bad, idea." She made a hand gesture to indicate that sliding scale of bad. "My drug of choice is usually alcohol." Or sex.

From:

posterboymarine

"No open liquor stores." He pet her shoulder and sighed, then shuddered hard. She was being remarkably kind about it, but he still knew he'd screwed up.

From:

neverwrongagent

She shrugged. Her second idea was really her preference. She closed her eyes for a long moment, then looked at him quizzically. "We haven't talked much about the house."

They hadn't talked about much they'd need to do when they landed.

From:

posterboymarine

He really didn't want to talk, either. But they needed to pass the time somehow. He pulled her up to sit in his lap and he wrapped his arms around her and leaned against her, not really trying to suppress the random shudders that moved through him.

From:

neverwrongagent

She petted his arm lightly, trying to give him anything else to focus on. She leaned into him with a soft sigh, feeling better already. She was touched that he didn't bother to hide his physical reactions. It was a step forward. "One storey or two?"

From:

posterboymarine

"Mmm? Oh. One. Easier to take care of." He shuddered harder and whimpered. "This is hard."

From:

neverwrongagent

Easier to escape from, too. Not that she liked to think about that part. She shifted slightly so she could pet him properly and didn't answer him right away, thinking the touch was more important. Finally she sighed softly. "It's incredibly hard."

From:

posterboymarine

He shuddered even as he leaned into her touch. Then he started bouncing his foot, energy coiling up inside of him. The upside to opiates was that there was no twitching once you were stoned. Now all he left like he was doing was twitching.