"So this is it," Johnny is the one to break the tranquil silence. The beginning of the sunrise is peeking over the horizon, glimmering off the surface of the boundless ocean.
The only noise is the crackle from the firewood and their eyes all stay focused on the glowing embers. Paul sits on one of the larger rocks surrounding the bonfire, Charlie planted between his knees and his hands on her shoulders, occasionally massaging in the same way she loved when they were together. Jakes is perched closest to the fire, occasionally stirring up the embers to keep a bit of the heat going. Johnny lies on his side across the sand, bottle of tequila empty by his hand. Mike has his back pressed against the second rock and Paige is curled into his left side with his arm around her.
The last remains of the bonfire shine bright against the tears that coat everyone's cheeks. They've been readily ignoring the occasional sniffle in favor of sharing stories that bring stitches from laughter to their sides, but with the first sign of dawn, they all know that their flights away from Graceland are just hours away. This really is it.
Briggs is catching the next flight to Thailand, zen Buddhist teachings appearing once again, despite, or maybe because of, the horrific acts of his recent past.
Charlie has made peace with his move, made peace with who they were together and who they could never be again, electing to take her own sabbatical to Italy. Her family has long since left, but her roots are there and she needs to find that again. She's lost so much of herself this past year that she needs to start at the beginning.
Jakes and Johnny made an unlikely truce in being the next closest thing to roommates: next door neighbors in the same suburban neighborhood halfway between the ICE and FBI Field Offices in Los Angeles. Johnny will be running tactical and Jakes will be bossing around newbies in their training.
Paige hasn't said much about her next step, still too stunned that after everything they put in to this house, everything they did to make Graceland work, that their entire livelihoods could be voted away by some old men in suits wielding too much power and not enough insight into crime on the ground and in the streets. All of their sacrifices feel worthless.
Mike is off to D.C. to head his own team, something that he feels alarmingly underqualified for, something he wishes he still wanted. A year ago, even months ago, he would have traded everything to be back on his original path of career progression. Now, it feels like he's being cheated out of something. It feels like his home is being ripped apart and there's nothing he can do but walk away from the carnage with his head held high and his attempt at dignity in shreds.
"This is it," Charlie repeats softly, the combination of their earlier tequila shots and their all-nighter making her voice huskier than usual. "Who's flight is out first?"
They all have each other's flight schedules memorized, so her question is essentially mindless conversation. Conversation no one particularly wants to have. Nothing but the reminder of the end of an era.
"Mine," Briggs keeps his voice low as well. An aura of reverence surrounds them and anything louder than a whisper would break that. Even the seagulls seem to be quiet, even at the break of dawn. "We still have some time here, though."
Something in the fresh sea air and the constant wash of the waves against the sand makes its way into the circle of friends. Team members. Family. Their hands are still sticky from the marshmallows roasted over the fire, their throats parched, their bodies angrily protesting the sand under their asses and the rocks against their backs. They're surrounded, encapsulated, safe for just a little while longer before everything falls apart.
"They can take Graceland away from us, they can call us back to our offices and demand we do what they want," Briggs states, clearly meaning the higher-ups in their agencies, "but they can't take away everything we've been through together."
"Hell, we couldn't even give it away, Paul. No one would even want the shit we've been through here," Charlie retorts with a chuckle that almost could have been bitter but holds only resignation, absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. The scars on Mike's abdomen flare. Paige skims her fingers over the mark on her right hand, memories of a white dress fluttering to a bedroom floor.
"The world couldn't possibly understand," Mike murmurs, the first sound he's made since their toasts and cheers hours ago. "But we do. We had each others' backs. Still do. Always will. We won't forget where we came from."
Mike reaches his hand over and laces his fingers with Paige. They haven't identified what they feel towards each other, but there's no denying it anymore. They need each other, and no force of man or nature can stop that. Paige brings his hand to her lips and matching tears roll down their cheeks.
"When the dust settles, no matter where the pieces fall or where we find ourselves," Paige chokes back a sob and carries on, voice unwavering in determination, "we will all come back here. One year from today."
"And so it is decided," Jakes agrees and they all nod, sad smiles serving to hold back tears.
Mike raises his empty Corona bottle and they all follow suit.
"To our merry, merry band of misfits. Here's to always finding our way back home."
Author's Note: Title is Back Home by Andy Grammar. So there you have it- a fluffy ending ignoring all of the problems from the show. Here's to more Graceland fics despite the cancellation!