A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews and story alerts… I'm seriously afraid I'm going to let you all down—I feel SO rusty, haha. And if you don't mind, I would love to know what you think of the Auggie/Rory dynamic… Rory seems kinda childish for Auggie, haha, but I can still see them being best friends…
And without further ado…
Chapter 1
Joan Campbell knew it was going to be a bad day when she glanced at the memo regarding the death of Private Gregory St. Nikolai. Auggie had called him Rory. Two yeas ago, they had been best friends.
Now, Auggie Anderson had a new best friend. He would still take it hard. She deposited her purse on her chair and peaked out her office door. She flagged Annie Walker as she walked by, two cups of coffee in hand, on her way to Auggie's office. "Annie?"
Annie spun around. "Yes, Joan?"
"Please tell Auggie I need to speak with him. Right away."
Annie nodded, already on her way. "Yes, ma'am."
Joan returned to her desk and signed onto her encrypted work email as she waited for Auggie to arrive.
A few moments later, a knock sounded on her door, and she called out, "Come in." She logged out of her email for the moment. Auggie deserved her full attention.
"Auggie, sit down," she said, studying his blank expression. He didn't know what was coming. She was known around the DPD for being strict and severe, but breaking up a bond like this? It was a task she wished on no one. "There's a chair two steps in front of you."
He stepped forward and felt for the chair. When his hands closed around the plush back of the tall chair, he skirted around it and sank into its depths, grasping the armrests. He stared blankly in her direction. "What's this about, Joan?" he asked, cocking his head in that curious way he had when he was deep in thought or curious about something.
"Auggie…" She paused. "Auggie, I got a memo today about… Gregory St. Nikolai."
Auggie squinted in thought as he leaned forward, his cane, folded, resting in his lap. "Rory? What about him? And why am I here?"
His questions were well-founded. She knew she was acting uncharacteristically out of character, but this was Auggie. And Rory. They had been closer than brothers after Auggie's accident. She had met Rory once—he was a good man. He hadn't left Auggie's side for more than a moment in the first week at Walter Reed after they had arrived back in the States.
The words slipped out. "Auggie, Rory's—Rory's dead."
The color drained from his face. Joan could tangibly see Auggie's heart sinking to his knees.
A strangled, "What?" was his reply, as he gripped his cane tightly. Joan watched the spectrum of emotions fly across Auggie's face—disbelief, horror, anger, grief.
She watched in silence. What else was there to say?
"How?" he finally asked, fingering his cane as his eyes darted across the room, as if he could find the answers he sought.
She cleared her throat, trying to form the words. "The memo says it was a massive heart attack," she explained. "He wasn't able to get medical attention in time, and he died, right in the middle of the restaurant. Waiting for Noelle."
Noelle. Rory's girlfriend. Auggie and Rory were still close, and Auggie had known that Rory was about to propose. According to Rory, she had been some girl.
Joan watched as he had opened his mouth, as if to say something, and then thought better of it. "Auggie, I understand if you need time off. Go. Take as long as you need."
He nodded numbly, standing, as if to go. When he reached the door, Joan cleared her throat. "Auggie?"
He stopped, and turned his head to face her more directly. He waited, staring over her left shoulder. He looked almost impatient.
"Auggie… if you need anything just let me know. We're here for you. Okay?"
He nodded and walked out the door, his hand trailing the wall. He didn't trust his four working senses at the moment.
CA
Annie Walker watched Auggie leave Joan's office, looking confused and almost weary. She was about to go see what was wrong, but Jai interrupted her, finding it the perfect opportunity to ask her to lunch. He had turned on the charm, and she had just wanted to push him away.
Something was seriously wrong with Auggie, and all Jai could think about was charming his way into her pants. Most times, she could see the benefits of falling for his wit, charm, and swarthy good looks. But today? Today, he was keeping her from Auggie, and that was not okay.
By the time she'd gotten rid of Jai, Auggie had gathered his suit jacket and a book he had brought to work earlier that day, and was headed toward the exit.
Auggie? she wondered. What is going on?
Before she could follow him, to investigate, one of Auggie's techies scurried past her desk. "Joan wants to talk to you in her office," Stu mumbled nervously. "And she doesn't look too happy about it."
Annie tucked the file she had been translating into her desk and locked the drawer. She glanced at Joan's office, all the blinds drawn, and she sighed apprehensively. Here goes nothing, she thought, walking through the mass of desks to her boss's office. She knocked, trying to peer through the slats in the blinds to see Joan's mood before she entered the storm.
"Come in," the voice from within called, emotion masked.
She hesitantly pushed the door open, looking around. "Joan?" she asked. "You wanted to see me?"
Joan sighed quietly and motioned for Annie to enter. "Yes, Annie, sit down." She indicated the chair that Auggie had occupied moments ago. After Annie was settled in comfortably, she began again. "Annie, I need you to do something for me."
Annie's eyebrows rose in curiosity. This didn't sound like the beginning of a mission briefing, so what was this about?
Joan began to speak again. "Auggie is having some…" she paused to find the right words. "Personal problems. Has he talked to you about his time in Iraq? Before his accident?"
Annie shook her head. "No."
"He was very close to his team over there. They loved him, and he took care of them. He was like a big brother to them." Joan handed her a picture of Auggie and a young man, possibly a few years younger than Auggie, posing together. Auggie's arm was raised in the air, shaking the football victoriously. Both of them had cheesy grins on their faces, and Annie could see the laughter in Auggie's eyes.
She smiled. "Who's the other guy? Someone in Auggie's team?"
Joan nodded. "Yeah. His name was Gregory St. Nikolai. Auggie always called him Rory." She accepted the photo back from Annie, and handed her another one. This time, it was Rory with a girl. A petite brunette, pretty, shy. They were obviously in love.
"I got a memo this morning that Rory died over the weekend. Saturday, actually. He had a massive heart attack while he was waiting for his girlfriend to arrive. They found an engagement ring in his pocket."
"Oh, no," Annie whispered. Images of Ben's cryptic note entered her mind. Rory's girlfriend could have had the real deal—and then this happened.
Joan nodded. "Yes. When Auggie came back to the States after his accident, Auggie and Rory were best friends. Closer than brothers. Rory wouldn't leave Auggie's side, and he was the only one Auggie really opened up to. Together, they made it through. Shortly after Auggie's accident, Rory quit the military and moved to Toledo, Ohio, where he taught French at a small high school. Auggie and Rory were still close—still talked all the time.
"Auggie's taken some time off to go to Rory's funeral. Annie, you're the best friend Auggie has. I don't want him alone during this time. Can you keep an eye out for him, make sure he's okay? Go to the funeral with him?"
Joan hated to sound so desperate—that's what she was, she deprecated herself, desperate—but she had always taken a liking to Auggie, always protected him against the sharks. She couldn't protect him now, though, and she needed someone who could. Annie could.
Annie studied Joan's face curiously, gauging her genuineness. Why was Joan so concerned now? "Okay," she said, standing to her feet.
When she reached the door, Joan called out, "Annie?"
Annie turned to look at her boss.
"Thank you," she said, the poised, austere Joan returning to the forefront. A bolstering belief in her eyes, however, made Annie question the motives behind every stern command and glare Joan had ever given.
She smiled her reply and slipped out the door.
CA
Annie knocked on Auggie's door, listening for any hint as to what was happening on the inside. It had been noon before she had been able to get away from Langley, and she was hoping that Auggie was at home still. He hadn't answered any of the times she had called. Some might consider that a sign, but she wasn't giving up on Auggie—no way.
The lock clicked, and the wooden door slowly slid open. Auggie leaned against the wall, looking a little better than a couple hours ago, now dressed in navy sweatpants and an Army tee shirt. "Annie?" he asked, breathing in her perfume.
She crooked a smile, not caring that he couldn't see it. "You got it, pal," she said.
He stepped aside so she could enter. "What are you doing here?" he asked, ambling over to the couch, where he had been sitting earlier. He tucked the photo album back into the box setting on the floor and felt around for the lid.
She watched him slide the box underneath his coffee table. "I… uh," she paused. "Joan told me what happened," she confessed.
Auggie stared blankly at the floor in the middle of the room. "Oh," he finally said.
"She's worried about you," she ventured.
He sighed. "I know."
She came and sat down next to him. "Auggie," she offered, after a moment. "Do you want me to go with you?"
"To the funeral?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Yeah," she said quickly. "Auggie, if you were as close to Rory as Joan said, you don't deserve to be alone right now. Joan has given me the time off, if you want the company."
He stared right at her, studied her, as if he could see her. She squirmed under his scrutiny, feeling foolish, but unable to stop herself. He finally let out the breath he was holding. "Okay," he said finally.
A small, victorious smile inched up her face. She sat back onto the couch, leaning her shoulder against his. They shared the silence familiarly. A moment later, she glanced up into his eyes. "Auggie?" she asked. "What was he like?"
He laughed easily. "Rory… Rory was… I can't explain Rory." He shook his head, and reached for the box he had slid under his coffee table. He reached in and pulled out the photo album. "Noelle—his girlfriend—sent this to me last Christmas. Along with a note written in Braille. Apparently Rory thought he was forgettable, and sent this to me to ensure that I didn't forget."
Annie ran her fingers over the captions written in Braille, attached next to each photo. She smirked as she came upon a photo of Auggie and Rory hiding underneath an office desk, peaking out from behind the chair, grinning goofily up at the photographer. "What's this one about?" she asked.
"Which one?" he asked, feeling for the caption.
Annie guided his hand to the correct photo. "Here. You and Rory are hiding…" She paused to laugh. "Hiding under some desk. It almost looks like it was taken… at Langley?"
His genuine laugh returned, and it reassured Annie. "That's because it was taken at Langley," he explained. "Rory and I both shared a deep dislike for Henry Wilcox and how he ran the agency. Rory was all talk and pranks—never a serious threat for anything. A couple weeks before we left for Iraq, he convinced whoever had gone out on the sandwich run for lunch that day to add jalapeno peppers and lemon juice to Henry's sub… both of which Henry really hates. Of course, Rory had to see the benefits of his prank, but no one wanted to be caught by Henry… so he insisted that we hide under Arthur's desk to hear Henry's roar of disapproval." Auggie rolled his eyes. "Half the time I didn't even know what Rory was doing."
Annie laughed and she nudged his shoulder with her own. "Tell me another story about Rory," she said, continuing to look through the pictures. She'd seen the light reappear in her friend's eyes, and she would do anything to keep that light, that laughter, that love, there.
He thought for a moment, studying the small ballerina figurine that was in the box with his fingers. One of Rory's gifts that would last a lifetime, Annie assumed.
He laughed as he thought of a good one. "Okay. Rory and I met at the Farm," he began. "I remember thinking he was the strangest person I had ever met. He secretly hid this larger-than-life, dirty, old, ratted pink bunny under his bed, sang the Hallelujah Chorus every time he took a shower, despite the multiple protests…"
"Protests?" Annie interjected.
"He sang the soprano part," Auggie supplied with a laugh.
"Oh," she laughed.
"He pranked the trainers, read Dostoyevsky every afternoon, always found a lady to take to dinner every Saturday night, and somehow, he managed to graduate at the top of our class…"
CA
Liam settled back into his hotel bed in downtown Toledo. He reached for the television remote and flipped through the channels until he reached a local news channel as he finished the hamburger he had picked up from the restaurant across the street.
A local reporter was standing in front of Tess's Coffeehouse and Diner, reporting on two-day-old news. The caption at the bottom of the screen announced that she was Valentina Cortez. "Well, Bowen," she was reporting, "behind me is Tess's Coffeehouse and Diner, frequented often by the people of Toledo. Two days ago, however, local Army veteran Private Gregory St. Nikolai was sitting inside, eating a light sandwich while waiting for the arrival of his girlfriend, Noelle Coventry. Suddenly, St. Nikolai collapsed. Dr. Emilia Cordova, an ER doctor, was on-scene, but by the time she reached him, St. Nikolai had passed away…"
Liam's lips locked into a self-satisfied grin as he sampled the French fries, dipping them in the mound of ketchup. One down, two to go, he thought.
His thoughts turned to the tapped conversation he had listened in on a couple moments ago. This was turning out to be easy.
Noelle Coventry had answered her telephone. "Hello?" she had asked, sounding a bit timid and teary-eyed.
A man's voice responded. "Noelle?"
Liam had heard her sigh of relief. "Auggie! I'm so glad you called." She paused. "Are you going to be able to make it to Rory's funeral?"
"Yes," he reassured her easily. "Of course, Elle. Even though Rory and I haven't lived in the same state since the accident, he was my best friend. Of course I'll be there." A moment passed. "Nothing could keep me away," he promised.
Liam had smirked at that. Americans must be incredibly stupid, he thought. Although, in his case, that was a good thing. No one had caught the poison that had ended Gregory St. Nikolai's life so quickly. No man—particularly no saint—would come between him and Juliana's justice.
And it looked like August Anderson would be the next to pay.
He continued to listen to the broadcast. "St. Nikolai's funeral will be held at New Hope Chapel at the corner of Everett Street and Buttonwood Lane on Thursday, October 7, at 10:30 in the morning. It is an open ceremony, and all are invited to attend the celebration of St. Nikolai's life…"
Exactly what he needed to know. He flicked off the television and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 8:42 pm. He had three days of waiting ahead of him. Grabbing his jacket, he slipped out of his room and down to the street, in search of the nearest pub.
A/N: And ah, I KNOW I said I didn't want to be one of those people that craves reviews, haha, but let's face it—I'm already addicted, haha. Please review!
