[A/N: The title is based on the song by the National. I thought it very Charlie and Briggs and how they carry the weight of Graceland on their shoulders. ]
It was late, so late that a very exhausted Charlie didn't feel like taking off her sunglasses to see better in the dark. She felt as if they were already plastered to her face. Her legs were aching, her feet tired and scrunched into sneakers that didn't fit. She was frustrated with each step she took. She wanted to turn around, to retreat to the house she so sought out for Whistler, for his family, for his future. God, Charlie wanted Whistler to get a grip, to go through the pain of withdraw to find the relief of sobriety. She had sought that for so many others and she had helped them. Whistler's refusal to help himself and those around him was a violent slap in the face for what Charlie was trying to accomplish.
"Did you fight for me?" The harsh words of Whistler ran through her mind. She had tried her best. She had given it everything. If he had been just another CI that double-crossed her, she wouldn't have even thought to help him out. Nevertheless, he was caring, he wanted to change, and he just needed help to do so. To have him reject he help was devastating. It was making Charlie rethink her whole strategy.
Johnny had texted her that something went down in Graceland today with Lauren but Charlie refused to text him back or seek out Briggs for information. She wanted to live in her own bubble of self-pity for the night until the next morning she'd have to pretend like everything was okay and Briggs would attempt to break down her walls. He always did, whether or not she liked it. They both functioned the same way. They wanted trust. They wanted respect. The senior agents obtained those things by being someone could be trusted, could lead, and could be respected.
For a moment, Charlie wished she were her meth addict CI. She wished she could disappear on the streets of Southern California amongst the other homeless fighting off the humidity and the rabid dogs. She wished she could stay the night in a shelter and help those around her fight addiction. In that fleeting moment, she tried not to feel sorry for herself and her failed attempt but she was only reminded of her triumphs with Tony. How could she help her own brother but not a total stranger? She was again frustrated with this.
Sighing, she sulked into Graceland, noting the absence of the group around the living room. The shot glasses, along with her martini shaker of zombie virus (a concoction she kept a secret) were still laying used on the table, a few napkins soaking up spills and thankfully no stains were on the furniture. A glance at the chore wheel and she sighed again, a current default for her these days.
"Dishes…" She muttered to herself, figuring that the shot glasses and alcohol consisted of dishes and dishware. It was four in the morning, but who cared? She'd clean the living room and the kitchen. It would be messed up by seven o'clock, thanks to Briggs's culinary artistry and she would gripe inwardly about how hard she worked the previous night. She minded but didn't at the same time, Charlie was a complex human being who loved to help people and expected no recognition but sometimes, it would eat away at her. Were people noticing her caring nature? Was she giving enough? Loving enough? Maybe she should be more difficult on people. She would stay up nights just thinking about these topics.
Carrying the shot glasses between her tired fingers, she placed the glass ones carefully in the sink and let the cheap plastic Disneyland glasses belonging to Paige clink in the sink. She turned on the water, letting it run, as if to soothe her. Charlie continued to clean in the living room, making sure there were no more spills or stains. Once she had cleaned all the dishes, dried and put them away, she surveyed her woke with a small, wavering proud smile.
For a moment she could rest. For a moment she accomplished something, though small, that helped Graceland run. Her and Briggs, they were the strong shoulders; they carried the weight of all the young, past and present agents. They were the remainders of the failed attempts. They pushed on.
"How'd it go today?" Briggs called out to her, leaning against the kitchen counter.
"Shit, I didn't even hear you come in." Charlie said, startled, her hand placed over her heart.
"Same goes to you, ninja." Briggs chuckled softly but his face showed one of frustration, disappointment, and anger. Yes, Charlie knew something big happened today. She selfishly wanted to wallow in her own misery for a moment. She hated to burden Briggs like this. She hated to act like Mama and Papa bear for the kids, but that was their choice.
It's become the crux of me; I wish I could rise above.
Charlie sighed once more, "Want the short or long story?"
"Long, you know me." Briggs gave a hollow laugh but he took his familiar seat on the barstool next to the kitchen counter.
"You know I'll still give you the short." Charlie whispered.
Briggs leaned in to listen.
"You know Whistler?" She asked it as a question though she knew Briggs met him before. "He's a nice guy, he's just messed up, he's hooked on one of the worst drugs in the world." She paused, "He makes these wonderful doll houses and he's giving it to his niece Audrey, but, his sister kicked him out. So, it was just sad to see all this positive energy put into this piece and he's basically ruining all of his potential."
Briggs nodded, "He's running out of steam. He doesn't know where to put his energy, the drugs take over." He murmured.
Charlie nodded in agreement, "Right. I mean, I understand being hooked, trust me, I've helped enough people with that but….I just believed in him so much, more so than others I've helped." She bit her lower lip, "H-he thought I didn't fight for him. He thought I was abandoning, that I was letting him fail." She could feel the moisture prick at the corner of her eyes.
Briggs frowned deeply at this, "You do more than your share, Catherine." He whispered her real name despite her familiar nickname.
She looked up at him with hopeful eyes though she doubted in her heart, "How'd it go with you?"
Briggs knew she wasn't finished but he knew she also wanted him to change the subject. He forced himself not to say fine.
"Horrible." He paused, "Lauren, you know I love her, but she was just acting so unlike herself today. She told me she went back to the warehouse after her cover as Elena was blown because she let their driver see her face in a DEA outfit with a badge." He tsked lowly at this, "She lied to me." He shook his head and whispered angrily, "And you know I can't stand liars. I can deal with all this other shit, but not liars."
Charlie pursed her lips, "Love makes people do stupid things. Love and trust are a worse combination. Lauren wanted revenge for her partner and for her…lover…boyfriend…whatever." She paused, "She wanted justice. She wanted to make him feel like he wasn't abandoned, like we don't care…."
"It's not that we don't care, it's just…"Briggs began.
"That we moved on." Charlie answered, "I think that's everyone's fear, not only in Graceland and our line of work, but in the world." She mused aloud, "People fear they'll be forgotten no matter how much good in the world they did."
"We have to outweigh the evil; we have to let the good shine through." Briggs mused aloud with her, "We have to let everyone know that we care." He paused, "It's a difficult line to cross though, between trust and friendship." He looked out towards the ocean, "Sometimes trust is broken and you can't ever repair that."
Charlie stayed silent for a moment, letting them both ruminate in their own thoughts.
"You know I'd never betray you, right?" She looked at Briggs worriedly.
"I know." He replied, dark eyes catching hers.
He knew. He trusted Charlie with his life.
"We carry the weight of them and the lost agents with us." He whispered, eyes catching to the chore wheel, "A rotation of different names, made up places, the faceless…"
"We help them all or at least try to." Charlie nodded in agreement. She sighed, running a shaky hand through her hair, "I don't know how much longer of this I can take. It's…..without results, without reassurance…" She trailed off.
"You come to me." Briggs said sternly but in a comforting tone, "If you doubt yourself or what you're doing, you come to me. " He paused, "I won't let you fall." And in that moment, Briggs was moving forward, moving to the other side of the kitchen counter, and wrapping his toned arms around Charlie.
She felt safe with him. He understood. They were all the other had sometimes. Charlie breathed in the musky sand swept scent of Briggs, laughing softly as he blew against her ear (her ticklish spot) and she jumped a little.
He laughed, genuinely, not the hollow laugh of a leader she was used to hearing. This laugh sounded magnetic and real.
"I missed the real you." She told him with a smile, pulling back for a moment, long enough to see he was smiling back. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, letting herself wallow in the self-pity that were the shoulders of leaders.
"Why do we let them do this to us?" Charlie whispered into Briggs's ear.
"Because we care," He whispered back, hugging her tighter and wishing the weights would crumble and they'd be free.