A/N: Read and review still trying to decide whether to continue with this.
Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Covert Affairs
Auggie sat on the couch, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. Head in hands, his shoulders hunched over towards the floor as if he no longer had the energy or desire to support himself. His breath's came erratically, chest heaving as the emotions he had been pushing away with his sarcastic humor for the past 3 years finally overwhelmed him. Everyone knew him as the witty Auggie Anderson, former special operative, now the blind head of Tech Ops at the DPD. Charming, pleasant, perpetually drinking coffee. As far as anyone else knew he had dealt with his emotions regarding being blind and had learned to be content in spite of it. What they didn't realize was that any serious injury or illness was not something that could just be 'dealt' with. Sure, he had rebuilt his life from the ground up, surrounded himself with people he could trust, and made sure he was the best in his field at the CIA. Usually he was okay. Most days okay was enough.
He had tried so hard to avoid falling into the 'victim' role after going blind. He had worked hard to regain his independence. He had done whatever he had to do to avoid needing anyone. Well, at least since his first year of being blind. But that was a dark time he did not want to think about. Ever. He had tried to blank it out of his memory.
He wasn't sure what had triggered the breakdown today. All he knew was that no matter how hard he tried to hold himself together, once in a while life got too hard to cope with. He had made it through the day at work somehow, taken all the blind jokes and responded with a halfhearted chuckle. His usual cynical smile had remained super-glued to his face. No-one had seen through his charade.
As soon as he returned to his apartment after work he had made his way to the fridge and removed the first six pack of beer his hands encountered. Throwing them down on the table in front of him he had turned up his stereo to full blast and fallen unsteadily into this position on the slightly overstuffed black leather couch at the side of his living room. As the sounds of OneRepublic washed over him he allowed the pain to take over. He knew he was spiralling, knew he was allowing himself to be weak, knew he should pull himself out of this state before he lost control. Right now though he didn't want to be strong. He was tired of lying to himself and pretending like everything was fine. Everything was different. His life had been turned upside down. Once in a while he deserved to feel sorry for himself. He lifted his head for long enough to down a bottle of beer, tossing it carelessly to the ground once he had emptied it.
The truth was that he lived every day with the knowledge that if he had chosen Natasha over the CIA all those years ago he would not have lost the love of his life, then lost his sight. But he had made the wrong decision and he would never be able to change the past. It was his own fault he was blind. Payback for the way he had broken Natasha's heart in his own drive and ambition to be the best CIA agent on the field. He had treated her like she was nothing more than a sideline in his life, thinking once he had achieved what he needed to in his job he could pick up where he had left off with her. He had realized too late that people were all that truly mattered in life. Seeing Natasha again a few weeks ago had brought up so many memories of what life used to be. Carefree, fun, reckless. He had thought he was invincible. He had loved Natasha but he had never let himself need her. He had never fully let her into his life. Now he was haunted by what if's from the past. What if he had told her the truth that day. Would it have changed anything? He wondered if he would ever get over her.
He slammed his third bottle of beer onto the table a little more forcefully than he had anticipated. Pulling at his hair in frustration he realized that the beer was not helping at all. Usually he would just go charm a pretty woman at Allen's into coming home with him but in his current state they would just be in his way. He couldn't be bothered with the facade tonight. The smiling, the lying, convincing another faceless woman that he cared about her. If he was honest with himself he was not sure he would ever care about anyone except himself deeply again. He only had enough emotional energy to get himself through the day without falling apart, nothing extra to give to anyone else. Even as that thought crossed his mind, the scent of grapefruit came to mind. Annie Walker was the one person who seemed to cut through every pretense he put up in self defense. Drinking alone wasn't making him feel better. Maybe drinking with Annie would help. A small voice at the back of his mind told him that using Annie to make himself feel better was not a good idea, but he mentally crushed that small voice. She was his best friend, of course she wouldn't mind being there for him.
He picked up his phone and pressed #1 on the speed dial.
"Hello?" Annie's voice was groggy and confused as she mumbled into the phone. She had clearly been asleep. Which made sense given that it was after 10pm.
"Annie, can you come over, I don't wanna be alone right now." Annie frowned at her phone in confusion. Auggie never asked for help. He was the strong one she had always turned to when she was falling apart. This was definitely an odd reversal of their roles. Tonight he sounded vulnerable and lonely.
"I'll be there in 10." Although confused by the late night call and the unfamiliar tone in Auggie's voice, Annie didn't hesitate to throw on a coat and drive straight over to Auggie's place. He was her best friend and she knew he would have done the same if she had called him for help.