A/N: As you've probably noticed by now, I changed the title. This was formerly Numb. Now it's Can You Save Me? The title makes more sense now, in my opinion. And it's not just because I love the song.
I posted a prequel of sorts, called Cosmic Love. So it happens before this story here and can explain certain things. You don't have to read it though, in order to understand this. It might help you understand a certain section.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed and added this to alerts! I'm glad you guys gave it a shot and I do hope that you all continue to enjoy it! (Random tidbit: when you combine you and all, it's Y'ALL. Not YA'LL. Sorry, that's just something that irks me to no end. Random tidbit over.) Please do leave some feedback/thoughts on this! What do you guys think about their situation? Am I doing justice to Auggie's character by writing from his POV (third person limited)?
Disclaimer: Covert Affairs and its characters belong to Matt Corman and Chris Ord.
Can You Save Me?
Don't you blame me,
For this nothing I've become.
It's just something that I've done.
Can You Save Me, Apple Trees & Tangerines
Chapter Two
Sometime before the crack of dawn, he awakes to the sound of running water. He bolts up in bed, worried that he forgot to shut off the sink, when he recalls that he isn't alone tonight.
He's definitely not alone tonight.
As he lies back down and reaches over to her side of the bed, he quickly realizes that it's she who is washing her hands. A small frown appears on his face and worry fills his thoughts. He ponders getting up from bed and bringing her back to bed, when, as if by some kind of magic, the water shuts off and the shuffling of feet noise approaches him.
Like a robot she returns to bed, hands still somewhat humid when they wrap themselves around his torso. She rests her head in the crook of his neck, and he allows her to accommodate herself before he leans his body towards hers and brings her closer to him.
He's almost afraid to ask if she's all right, but he takes the risk by simply whispering her name. He takes a deep breath during her silence, the smell of his hand soap and his shirt (when did she put on his shirt?) nearly bombarding his olfactory.
To his surprise, she doesn't respond. He's never personally known someone who sleepwalks, but there's a first for everything. She shifts in his arms, with her back to his chest, and his hands remain around her waist. As her fingers interlace with his, he can feel the dry skin due to the excessive hand-washing. He wouldn't be surprised if her knuckles were red and bare.
The sound of her steady breathing soon lulls him back to sleep. For a moment, he forgets about the morning, forgets about work, forgets about what this means for them, and simply focuses on the girl in his arms and how he wishes morning never has to arrive.
The morning after is definitely more awkward than the night before. At least, that's what he expected it to be. They wake up around the same time thanks to the alarm clock on the nightstand.
"Shut it off," she mumbles into his bare should as he reaches over and does just that. They've switched positions right now, with Auggie's back against her chest and Annie's arm around him. She's still sluggish and half asleep when she asks him what time it is.
A digital voice reads out: "Seven. Thirteen."
She immediately jolts up in bed, dragging the sheets with her. He hears her shuffling around his room, grabbing her things, and knows she's changing into her clothes when his shirt is thrown next to him on the bed. Before he can even get up from the bed and follow her out he hears the front door being slid open and then shut.
Auggie only remains in bed and wonders if he's just been used. Either way, thinking about it just brings a slight headache to him.
He knew today wasn't going to be like any other days at the DPD. He realizes during their first joined meeting with Joan and everyone else that she's ignoring him. Annie Walker is flat out ignoring him.
Part of him understands why she's doing that, but a gander part of him is pissed off at the fact that she's talking to Jai Wilcox more easily than she's talking to him. Hell, she's only said two words to the man. Then again, those are two more words than she's said to him during the day.
After their meeting, Joan calls a lunch break. Auggie gets up from his seat next to one of the fresh faces (Dan, he believes his name is) and turns on his laser cane, hoping to catch up to Annie before she leaves from his vicinity, leaving only the faint scent of grapefruit in her wake.
It takes almost all of his self-control to not break something when he exits the conference room and hears what he does.
"So…dinner tonight?" the voice of Jai Wilcox says. His mind tells him he has nothing to worry about, for Jai, at this point in time, would be the last person Annie would agree to go to dinner with. Annie always manages to surprise him, though.
"Sounds nice. Any place in particular?" Annie inquires. To Auggie, this all sounds wrong. She's being nice with Jai and actually talking to him, yet he, her friend since day one, is getting the cold shoulder. What has this world come to?
"I'll let you choose. Eight o'clock?"
"Eight o'clock," she agrees. He hears the click-clack of her stilettos and knows she's walking away.
Slightly angered by what he just heard (and the fact that she's going to great lengths to avoid him), Auggie bumps into Jai on his way to his office, not even bothering to stay for the repercussions or apologize.
He doesn't even bother with lunch today, deciding that staying alone in Tech Ops is better than feeling like she's around him every moment.
His workday could not end any sooner. The minute he finishes the last bit he needs to do for the day, he heads off to grab a ride and go directly home, foregoing a trip to Allen's Tavern with a small group of Tech Ops.
Stu, who bumps into him just as he's exiting the building, offers him a ride. Auggie politely declines, instructing his techie to go and have fun at the Tavern. In all honestly, Auggie just wants to be alone.
Being around people would simply trigger any emotional outburst.
With his white cane in hand (the lovely laser can only be used in the building), Auggie walks over to transportation, and heads into the usual cab he does. He greets the cabbie and then sits back, enjoying the silence of the ride. He pays his fare once he arrives and then walks into his apartment complex without a hesitant motion.
When he opens his apartment door, his olfactory picks up the faint smell of Jo Malone Grapefruit—along with the faint smell of antibacterial soap.
"Annie," he says, surprised to have her in his apartment. "How'd you get here before me?"
"I left before you. Did you forget that I drive and you take a cab?"
He nods his head. "That doesn't explain how you got inside."
"You forgot to lock your door this morning," she answers simply.
Backtracking, he recalls that he in fact did forget to lock the door this morning. His mind was just focused on so many other things that the simple task of locking his door slipped his mind.
"Auggie," she whispers and he can feel her hand on his arm. He immediately shoves it off; a simple action like that triggered the little budding anger in his mind.
"No!" his voice raises. "You leave this morning without a word, ignore me all day at work, and just expect me to be fine with you randomly appearing in my apartment? I get it; you used me last night to forget the pain, and I was fine with that then, but damn it, Annie, do you have to give me the cold shoulder afterward?"
Before he can continue his rant, Annie's lips are on his, preventing him from doing so. He drops his cane and house keys onto the nearby armchair and then wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. He forgets about everything except the feeling of her lips on his and her arms around his neck.
Immediately, he pulls away. A part of his mind is utterly confused as to what's occurring, and it wants answers. "Annie," he breathes, "What are you doing?"
"Showing you that I wasn't using you last night."
His mind can't comprehend anything else but the fact that she's leading them to the bedroom—and that the feeling of her lips on his is the best thing he's felt in a while.