Hello, this is my second Homeland fanfic.
It is an AU that takes place at the end of Season 3.
I wish to give my favorite couple an ending less atrocious.
I have received encouragements and I want to thank Terzima and Lipamo.
I have voluntarily left aside some technical aspects, I hope it won't bother you; I want to focus on the characters' psychology. It is about drama and romance.
All the characters I am going to use belong to Howard Gordon and Alex Gansa. Thanks to them for using Gideon Raff's idea.
I thank a lot Terzima for the translation (from French to English.)
Enjoy your reading.
A New Life
We had just landed, the extraction had gone well except for one thing: we were not going back to the USA. Our country had betrayed us but despite everything, Saul had released us from a deadly trap. I didn't know how or why he had chosen to decide against the initial decision but there was one thing I was sure of: I would be forever grateful to him. My hand was holding Brody's. I had slept all through the flight, reassured by that simple touch. He had slept less, or even not at all.
He was staring at the window, his gaze unfocused, lost in some ugly memory.
"Come," I said, pulling him up by the hand.
I was unable to let go of his hand.
All we had was false IDs and a little money. An agent guided us out of the small private airplane and we climbed down slowly, a bit confused, inhaling the cold air of the German land. I held his hand a little tighter, was I afraid he would escape me? Probably yes, I had almost lost him so many times.
With his other hand, he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, unable to stand the gaze of anyone else but me on him. However there were very few people in the small airport. Agent X returned to the cockpit without a word. We were alone now. As I expected, a surge of stress rose inside me and I fought it fiercely to force the hectic beatings of my heart to slow down. I could not falter, not now, not when he was counting on me.
We walked towards the exit, going through an empty hall. Outside, a driver was waiting for us. Brody hesitated for a second, scrutinizing the driver of the sedan with distrust. Out of habit, I analyzed the man of a certain age, sitting in the driver's seat, dark-haired, clean-shaven, his eyes looking at the road in front of him, no tension, nothing suspicious. I relaxed, Brody felt it and relaxed too – at least relatively.
Sitting side by side, we buckled our seat belts. The man acknowledged us with a slight nod of the head and quickly drove into the traffic which was apparently rather light. Watching the road signs, I understood we had left the outskirts of Munich. Brody looked at the road and cast worried glances through the back window.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Ulm," the driver answered. "You'll sleep there tonight, tomorrow morning, you'll have to drive to your final destination not far from the French border. You'll find the detailed information in the glove compartment of the car that will be waiting for you in Ulm."
So we were assigned to residence in Germany. Not so bad a destination, I had vague remnants of German from my studies. I leaned back, trying to forget all the negative, I had to focus on what counted most, and what counted most was within me and by my side.
The drive only lasted an hour and a half. I had watched the landscape of this unknown country go by, wondering how I would fit in. Fear gripped me again, but I pushed it back, determined. In my life, I had never been so sure of one thing: I would painfully miss my work, my family, in fact all that I loved, but I knew it was the right decision. No, it was the only possible decision for me to live fully.
It was noon when we arrived at the little house that was waiting for us on the road leading out of Ulm. The owner was a friendly young lady, she greeted us and Brody answered mechanically in perfect German. I was surprised at that new ability I didn't know about and realized there were many things I didn't know about him.
"You know the most important," I reassured myself.
She followed up with a discussion in which Brody participated minimally, and took us to our guest room on the upper floor. It was simple but cozy and exactly what we needed: isolated and quiet. I visited the place quickly; from the window, all I could see was a garden crossed by a rivulet. Our driver was already far away, I thought, also gone without a word. We were alone now.
"Please ask her where our car is."
Brody was about to comply but she answered with a smile.
"I understand American a little. Your car is in the driveway."
I had seen it but thought it was hers. We thanked her. She left us after offering us lunch, I was hungry, I found the idea tempting but a single glance toward Brody dissuaded me.
"No, we'll be fine, thank you."
"She'll have lunch with you," he ordered without even looking at me, "I'll catch some sleep."
To support his words, he went and lay down on the queen-size bed that was inviting for me too. I was exhausted.
"Brody…" I started to protest.
"You will certainly not remain without eating. Go ahead, I'll stay here."
He had already closed his eyes, I sensed a need to take care of me despite the chasm existing between us. So I obeyed and didn't try to discuss. In the door frame, I stopped for a second, uneasy at the prospect of leaving him behind if only for a minute. I didn't know what was in his head because after finding out that his country had rejected him despite his heroic act, he had expressed nothing, as if he expected it. What were his hopes in life? What did he expect from me? Did he really want to live with me or did he have to follow me because there was no other solution?
"You can have lunch in room if you wish," offered the young woman in a friendly way.
"Thank you Madam."
I didn't know her name, and neither did she know ours. She stepped back and whispered to me: "I'll be right back."
She closed the door, my feet were already taking me back to Brody. Sitting at the foot end of the bed, I took my shoes off, rubbed my sore feet. He opened an eye.
"You always achieve your ends, don't you?" He sounded serious but I felt the shadow of a smile. He reached out for me, I moved little by little toward him, still sitting. He took me by the waist, laid his head near my thigh. "Carrie, what are we going to do?"
I gently stroked his head that prickled the palm of my hand, first signs of his hair growing again, to my delight. "We're going to eat, have a shower, sleep. Then we'll go where we'll be safe."
"We'll never be safe anywhere," he contradicted me, closing his eyes.
"I don't care, as long as we're the three of us".
It was my only reality now.
More to come soon