A/N: This was in the back of my mind for some time now. Although I'm a die hard Auggie fan, someone had to show us what had happened those four months before any got back from the cold. Not a one shot anymore. ;)
Enough was enough. It's been three weeks, he thought. Three weeks since he took her to bed, and three weeks since he collapsed on him. Which would make three weeks since they were both ignoring the elephant in the room: it was 5 am, and he was half way through his running regimen. This was the third coffee shop he spotted today, and thought about her. Well, he could stop to get her coffee on his way back. He knew how much she appreciated her coffee and pastries in the morning; maybe it would put her in a good mood. He was starting to get a hang of her moods… After all, she was here, at his house, wearing his clothes, eating his food, and emptying his alcohol stock for three fucking weeks. Every time he tried to talk to her, she deflected. Usually, she would get up and come back with a bottle of beer. She made it pretty clear she didn't want to talk: she didn't want to talk about her health condition, she didn't want to talk about what happened between them, she didn't want to talk about what led her to him. She didn't want to talk, period. If it was one of the really bad days, she would trade the bottle of beer for a bottle of whiskey. The only bottle left untouched was the bottle of Tequila.
He looked at his clock, and changed streets, deciding to add another lap today; he still had some pent up energy to burn. Just thinking about Annie was enough to make his stomach churn, and those damn coffee shops always made him think about her. He tried to gather all information he had on her again: Her mission was over; she was still presumed dead, she was still in the dark. He thought about reaching out to Auggie again, but the one time he mentioned his name, on week one, was the night she emptied a bottle of his favorite vodka. He added Auggie to the list of things they were not discussing.
Well, reason number one was Auggie. Let's go to reason number two: Wilcox was dead. Sure, he heard all about the demise of Henry Wilcox by the hands of Jessica Mattews. That was another topic she didn't want to discuss. That leaves reason number 3: she was still presumed dead, blacklisted by the CIA.
Eyal sensed that all of those things were intrinsically connected to one another, and if he managed to make her talk about one of them, he'd get her to talk about all of it. It was clear to him that she needed a break, even clearer that she intended to drink herself to numbness to get that break. And whatever was wrong with her – probably her heart, if his medical training counted for anything – would not benefit from the binge drinking.
He had to do something, and she probably was not going to like any of this options. He stopped to get some air, standing outside his favorite bakery, and made up his mind. She may hate him afterwards; he understood the risks very well. One does not survive in his line of work not being good at risk assessment. However, it was the only way to get through her defenses. She came here for his help, and he was going to help her, or die trying. The image of Annie putting a bullet through him was almost amusing. Almost. He got in line, and while he waited his turn, he went through his plan again. He got the pastries, the coffee, and walked out with a brand new attitude.
He got home, left the food over the counter in the kitchen and got into the shower. He went through what was he was going to do a third time in his mind. Just thinking about it made that slow fire in the pit of his stomach come alive. He turned off the hot water. Yeah, she would hate him, but he would finally take what he wanted. Three weeks was enough time to make him crazy, out of his mind. Maybe that was why he decided to go through with it. He had to be out of his mind to think it would work. He turned the cold water off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and silently stalked to the kitchen.
Annie was sitting at the counter, sipping her coffee, still wearing the very large t-shirt –his favorite t-shirt, mind you –she uses as a camisole, when she looked up and almost spit most of the coffee out. Ever since that night, he was being extremely polite and careful around her. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. Which was exactly how she was feeling right now, seeing him half naked on his own kitchen, water dripping all over his body. Her mouth went dry, her stomach dropped. She remember that night she collapsed in his arms, in his bed, as if it was yesterday. Her feelings were all over the place for a while now. She liked him, even loved him, in a mostly platonic way. She knew there was possibility here. They could be something. If only she could manage to let herself be something. A part of her even wanted him, wanted this, but deep down she knew to whom her heart belonged to, and she didn't want to go back there. Not now. Probably never. Starting something right now was not an option: that wouldn't be fair to any of them.
She was so preoccupied ogling him, and trying to clear her mind, that she didn't noticed his eyes going dark as a result of her response to his near nakedness; she didn't notice how close to her he has gotten until she was in his arms. She started to struggle, needing to put some distance between them, but he only held her tighter. Locked in his arms, all those confusing feelings coming to surface, she looked in his eyes, and pleaded:
"Please, Eyal. Just… please." She started, but the intense look on his face made her avert her eyes. She couldn't think, couldn't move. She just stood there, waiting for her training to rear its head, waiting for that second nature will to scape her assailant to come to surface. Only it didn't.
"Please, what, Annie?" He asked, his voice rougher that he expected. This was getting out of hand. If she asked him to let go of her, he didn't know if he'd be strong enough to do that. Not when he finally decided to just take his chance, consequences be damned. He had to kiss her, he had to taste her again. "What do you want? What do you need?"
But before she was able to answer his question, his lips touched hers, and all hell broke loose inside of her. Something broke inside of her, and she just… she just took the fall. She kissed him back with equal measure, not caring if this was right or wrong. She came here for a reason, and even if it weren't for this, for the sex itself, if she hadn't collapsed in his arms that night, they would still be sleeping together anyway. This, this thing between them, was like trying to stop a roller coaster in the middle of the steepest fall: you cannot stop, you cannot get out, you have to ride it out, to see it through. So she did.
The minute he felt her yielding, he picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. In no time at all, he maneuvered them across the kitchen into his bedroom, and placed her on the bed. He removed her t-shirt, and tossed it across the room, leaving her only in her panties. That and his towel were the only thing between them right now, and he intended to leave at least one of those in place, otherwise, he'd be inside her too soon. He wanted to savor the moment, to make it last, but Annie got rid of the towel before he could say something, and fisted her hand around him, sending him to a feverish state of desire, where going slow was the last thing on his mind, and his carefully laid plan was out the window.
He managed to stop her before he got too far gone, and their first time was a blur. He was so wrapped up in her magic that it was hard to separate first time and second time. They were both fast, and hard. It was all about the need. He needed to touch her, to brand her, to make her his.
They were at the beginning of round three before he remembered what he needed to do. As wonderful as being with Annie was, he knew that it wouldn't fix her. She was on autopilot now, letting her body take the lead, but burying her heart. He needed to make her feel, really feel, beyond desire, beyond the raw need. He took her arms, and held them over her head with one hand, as his other hand took her face, and made her look at him.
"Open your eyes, Neshama." He demanded. He was hovering over her, poised at her entrance. "Look at me". He repeated, as he applied the slightest pressure, so she'd know he meant it. "I want you to look into my eyes, while I love you". He said, putting aside the needs of his own heart, his own happiness. He could have said while I have you or even while I fuck you, but he deliberately used the L word. The truth is he did love her. He really did. He had so many scars; one more would not break him. He has gotten used to them, anyway. This, the few months that would take to fix Annie, would have to be enough. "I want you to feel all of it. I want you to feel it when I kiss you" his lips softly touched hers, "I want you to feel it when I touch you" his hand left her face, and travelled down her body, touching her, worshiping her. "I want you to feel it when I make love to you". He moved into her. "I need you to see me, Neshama." Only me, he silently added. No one else. "I need you to feel it too. Do you? Can you feel it?" He slowly withdrew, and moved into her again.
"No, no Eyal. Please, don't say that" She asked him. This was too much. Sure, she wanted him, but not like that. She was no good for him. For no one, really. She needed the release he brought to her, she needed to feel free, to release the tension. She needed his help. She didn't need, nor want his love. She couldn't bear it.
"I love you, Annie. I love you." He said, as he repeated the action. Slowly. Agonizingly slow. He could feel she was not ready to listen, so decided to show her until she was. He would speed up a little, driving her to the brick, and retreat. Then speed up again. Over and over again. "I love you" He tried again, more forcefully this time. He was close, and he needed her to listen to him this time. Really listen. "I love you".
"Don't do this. Please, don't do this." She pleaded. "I can't, I… I can't". Tears streamed down her face. The walls started to crumble. That moment, Eyal let go. He set up a fast pace, riding her fast and hard, like the first two times. It was too much for Annie, and she exploded around him, her defenses shattered. He came, chanting her name, chanting his love for her. He must have said it a thousand times. A million times. He knew she was openly crying now, and it broke her heart too. But that's what he set out to do today.
Eyal lovingly held her in his arms while she cried.
She cried until there were no more tears, until she was empty: empty of rage, empty of sorrow, empty of feelings. She cried until the numbness left her. She cried for what she became, for what she did, for what she lost. And when there was nothing left, she heard him. He loved her, and that warmed her heart. He loved her, and she took this feeling as a lifeline, and came back of the darkness. She didn't know if this was right, or wrong, or if it would last, but she needed him. He was the only one who could put her back together, and let her go, when the time came. She knew he would end up hurt. She knew it. She tried to stay away, to leave it at the carnal level, to avoid feelings. She really tried. She wanted to leave her heart out of it, leave his heart out of it.