A/N: CA still not mine. But this plot line is, so bear with my slowness. The ol' writer's block caught up. But I'm back.

Silence befell the Anderson home. It had been quite a while since there was that silence- everyone had lent a hand in cleaning and disinfecting the house for James' return the following day. It had been a week since Annie arrived, and while tensions between Auggie and his father still was pretty apparent, it had been kept at an awkward stagnant stage. Despite this, Auggie, for the most part, seemed the most at home Annie had ever seen. It was pleasant to see him so loose- something their line of work in the CIA rarely ever allowed them to do. She wondered if he'd been that way since he left the agency, but those were questions that weren't to be queried for that moment.

She watched him at the corner of her eye as he headed to the kitchen. She had said it long before- he mesmerized her, and quite honestly, he still did, even after so many years they had spent together. They were alone in the house after everyone had left- some to go home, others to visit James at the hospital.

"You want a drink, love?" he asked her as he pulled a long neck from the fridge.

"That sounds good, babe. I'll just be here at the living room."

She looked around, the many photos of the family surrounding the place. Annie had caught Amanda countless times just looking at the photos. She'd told Annie that she loved to look at them, especially now that the boys had all grown up and created a life for themselves. A certain one caught her eye- Auggie in his uniform, young, happy and at the prime of his life. His rucksack was over his shoulder, His mom around his arms, her eyes looking red and puffy. It was beautiful though- a testament to the bond that they shared as mother and child.

"What's gotten you so silent?" Auggie asked as he entered the living room space. Upon instinct, Annie moved closer to him, taking the other bottle of beer from his hand and led him to the couch.

"Just looking at the photos around the house. There's one that caught my eye."

"Yeah, which one?" he asked curiously as he pulled Annie close to him. She took the frame from where it stood at the credenza behind the couch. She smiled, took, Auggie's free hand and placed it upon the frame.

"You were in your uniform, raring to leave, but you have your mother wrapped in your arms, and she looked so extremely puffy," Annie laughed. "You looked so happy though."

Auggie ran his hand along the glass of the frame. He remembered that photo. Or at least taking it. "I remember this. This was taken before I left for my last tour of duty in Iraq. Mom was never very happy that I ended up there. She kept telling me she had an odd and very wrong feeling about my departure. Of course I was stubborn about it, and she couldn't stop me from leaving. Sometimes I think I should've followed her. Her mother's instinct was spot on as usual. She was always looking out for me. It felt stifling very often, but I understand now that she meant me a lot of good." He handed the photo back to Annie to return. She had just gotten up to replace it when he asked a question.

"Does she look the same? Mom?" There was an air of nostalgia and despondency upon Auggie, and immediately, Annie came to soothe it. She placed the frame back as quickly as she could, sat down and leaned into Auggie's shoulder as she took a swig of the beer.

"A lot more worry lines on her now. But she's still as beautiful as she always was."

"I don't remember."

"What do you mean?" Annie faced him, putting down her bottle on the coffee table and taking his free hand. Auggie dry swallowed.

"You know how people think that since I wasn't born blind, I'd probably have a concept of how things look like? Like I know which color is which? And what this certain thing looks like?" he began. "It isn't true. At least not anymore. Blue, red, green, pink- they're all just concepts in my head now. I can't pull up an image of what it looks like. I don't remember what the house looks like. I don't remember what my parents look like. I don't remember how I used to look like- not even how I looked as a child. I knew it was a possibility to lose it all from the very beginning- they told me that the span of visual memory is around 7 years. For many years, it was one of the things that terrified me the most. But no matter how hard you protect those memories, you realize that at some point you just aren't capable of keeping everything."

"But you're capable of gaining so much more," Annie said. She tried so very hard to believe what she was saying herself, but these were the few moments that Auggie looked so broken. She hated to use this hand, but she had to make him realize. "I never met you until much later, and you are the best thing that I have gained in this whole journey. Pardon me if it's a wrong assumption, but I'm hoping, that it was the same for you."

Auggie smiled a timid smile. He knew Annie was right. He had wondered this many times- if things had not panned out the way they did, would he have met Annie? And would his life be half as interesting or alive as it was now? Annie meant so much to him now. He'd almost lost her so many times, and he wasn't sure he was willing to even just think of the odds of not having crossed her path.

"I'm realizing that now, Annie. It's taking a lot of you to make me believe it, but I promise you that it's working. I just hope you're patient enough to work things out with me."

Annie closed in the gap, leaning on Auggie again, willing him to feel her proximity. "You've lost enough. You're not going to lose me to my irrationality and impatience again, I promise."

"You do?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"It's been a tough past year, Annie."

"I thought you trusted me."

"I do. It's just… a lot more hangs in the balance when I trust someone, Annie. Trust means a lot more of me than it does other people."

Annie took Auggie's hand, wove her fingers through his long spindly ones, admiring how perfectly fit her own tiny hand was with his. She understood him. She understood why he felt that way, but only because he had openly voiced it. Sometimes, she admitted that it was exhausting to keep reading him. Auggie was very much unlike her- people have told her that they can read her like an open book, but Auggie kept many things away in tidy little piles. She tried and guessed how he felt and while many times she was successful, the possibility of being wrong scared her to death because she knew that the littlest mistake could tip the scale towards being colossally damaging for Auggie and her alike.

"Promise me one thing, Aug," she said after a long breath.

"Anything,"

"You'll tell me things like this. Always." Auggie's confusion caught Annie so quickly. "People may think I know everything about you, but you know I don't. These are places we haven't gone into, Aug. You've kept your private life so far away from me, I'm learning that you know me more than I know you. I know why you built these walls, Auggie. But I'm asking you to break them down for me so I can help you, and if that reason doesn't cut the chase, so you can help us."

Auggie's wrinkled brow straightened almost immediately. She surprised him in so many ways still, even if they'd known each other for quite some time. She didn't know it, but she made him understand himself more. She was his light in the darkness- so to speak of course. She made him see himself in a different perspective, for which he was thankful for. It was so easy to get lost for him now, in every sense of the statement. She was his beacon to guide the way.

There wasn't much to say. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her even closer if it was ever possible. He gently kissed her forehead, and as she upturned her head, Auggie gave her a sweet, chaste kiss on her lips.

"I love you," he whispered. Annie almost forgot that his eyes, though they seemed like they could see through her soul, could see nothing. It never mattered anyway, and it never would. This was how they knew each other, and they both knew that save for a miracle, it wouldn't matter for the rest of their forever.

"I love you, too. You still haven't made the promise though." Annie replied with her own chaste kiss, but Auggie had caught her unaware, deepened the kiss, and everything ceased to exist… until Annie's phone rang. She pulled away so quickly, left no trace of the previous exchange and answered the phone after huffing on her way to find it.

"Joan? What can I do for you?"