Heroes And Monsters
The time Annie spends convincing the police that she's a harmless drug addict with expensive vacation tastes feels like an eternity.
Every second that passes is another second too long, and waiting for the second officer to come back down the stairs when his commander calls him off the hunt is quite possibly one of the most torturous experiences of her entire existence. A thousand scenarios have flown through her head if things were to go south - none of them with happy endings. So when the officers finally, finally deem her too useless to waste anymore effort on, it feels like salvation.
They kick the empty syringe across the house, sneering and muttering their obscenities in Spanish slang, before marching to the door and slamming it behind them.
Annie bores holes into their backs as they go, simpering and smug, her smile a picture perfect image of unadulterated satisfaction.
It appears they'll make it out alive after all.
She's almost disappointed knowing this means she'll have to come up with more excuses as to why she can't have dinner with McQuaid.
Almost.
When she pulls back the shower curtain, reflex causes her to jump when she realizes she's staring down the barrel of McQuaid's gun. He drops it to his side quickly once he sees it's her, readjusting his grip around Borz waist as he lowers him to the ground. Annie quickly shuts off the shower; both of them are drenched from head to toe, and she tries to ignore the rivulets of red running down Borz shirt.
"They're gone." She breathes, visibly relieved.
"Nice work." McQuaid commends, jovial despite the fact that he's soaked to the bone.
"We should get him in some dry clothes and get out of here." She eyes Borz, covered in his own blood and still wheezing. She can't ignore the sinking feeling in her chest.
"I'll take care of that." McQuaid offers, and then very seriously adds, "Can I borrow your towel?"
Annie's not sure she'll ever quite understand his ill-timed sense of humor. Try as she might to fix him with a disapproving scowl, she can't stop the smile from reaching her eyes when she walks away and his laugh follows her.
She finally gets her hour with Borz.
Annie watches him lie prostrate on the floor, pale and weak and fading, pushing him for answers. There's new blood on his shirt, on his mouth. He's breathing, but the whisper reminds her of death. She's heard it before. It's not something she can forget.
She thinks she should feel something - anything. This is the man responsible for so much destruction. This is the man responsible for so much death. This is the man that killed Charlie. And yet the only thing Annie feels is a gaping emptiness, a void that swallows her whole, because staring at him - watching him die - all she can see are the shattered pieces of a man who chose the ultimate sacrifice at the cost of his soul.
She would ask herself why faith fractures into desperation, why heroes become monsters, but she already knows the answer.
She's been one all along.
"Tell me what I need to know, and I will help Oksana."
Her hands are folded, as if in prayer, but not for the dying man in front of her.
It's for herself.
"You never answered my question about Colombia, y'know, before shit hit the fan back at the border crossing."
Annie doesn't hear McQuaid at first, her eyes focused on the road ahead, her head in an entirely different place. Caracas and Borz Altan's dead body are far behind them now thanks to the stolen Audi they're sitting in. McQuaid tried to help fill the time with small talk, but to little avail. She's spent the last few hours in her own silent daze thinking about Chicago, about The Postman, and Borz's dying words.
She keeps thinking about how he had said his sister's name.
"Walker? You ok?" When McQuaid reaches over to touch her shoulder, she flinches involuntarily, and then she feels bad when she sees the hurt look on his face.
"Sorry. Sleep deprivation must be catching up with me." She lies. "What were you saying?"
McQuaid's not buying it, but he doesn't press her.
"I asked if you've ever been to Colombia."
"Oh…" Annie averts her gaze. A different kind of daze hits her, a different kind of grief. "Yes."
"That's it? Just a yes?" McQuaid teases, oblivious. "No wild stories? No knife fights or bar surfing?"
"Har har." Annie casts him a sideways glare, expertly deflecting. "Am I supposed to believe that's what you do with your free time? Dinner is sounding less and less appealing."
"That's not exactly fair." McQuaid points out, half serious and feigning injury. "As I recall, you're the one who likes to make things exciting."
Annie scowls, arms crossed, lips in a thin line, to which McQuaid shrugs and grins. She doesn't say anything for a while after that, and an uncomfortable silence fills the car.
Annie doesn't understand McQuaid, what he wants from her, but what's more frustrating is that she doesn't understand what she wants from him, or why she continues to let him pull her back in. She's spent the entire time in Venezuela trying to keep him out, but despite her best efforts he's somehow managed to work past each of her defenses. Perhaps it's his persistence she admires, or his sincerity, but there's a fine line between respect and something entirely different. Something more dangerous.
She doesn't trust herself to walk that line and stay on the right side of it, and yet…
"I spent time in Medellín." She says suddenly. "I had a friend - a really good friend - who was from there."
"Oh yeah?" McQuaid's surprised, but pleased that she's speaking to him. "What's this friend up to now?"
"He's dead."
"Shit… I'm sorry, Walker."
"So am I, everyday."
Annie's heart aches and a flood of memories threatens to overwhelm her. She thinks about Teo, about the last car ride she took with him, and suddenly the pain in her chest is worse than any heart attack could ever be. It's a regret that she will carry with her forever.
She fights the heat form her face and clenches her teeth. She stares at the road again because she can't force herself to look at Ryan. If she had looked at Ryan, she might have seen how his face fell for her. She might have seen the sadness in his eyes, the unequivocal transcendence of what it is to understand someone.
She might have seen everything she wanted.
AN: So writing this gave me all sorts of feels. Annie is in such a dark place at the end of season 4, and I feel like she's still in the place right now in season 5. So much happened to her, and she sacrificed so much, and broke a lot of relationships because of it (Auggie, Joan, the agency, even her sister). Knowing Annie she has to carry the guilt of what happened with her, especially Teo's death. I was glad I found a way to sneak his name in - I miss him so much. Anyway, I think some of that "darkness" is still there with Annie, she's not the same light hearted, hopeful spy we knew at the beginning of her story. She's been directly involved in a lot of death and destruction. I think because of that she's very lost, very far away from herself, and I would like to think that Ryan is sort of pulling her back to a place where she can be ok, if she will let him do that. Hope y'all like it, thanks for the love! xoxo
Musical inspiration: "Heroes and Monsters" by Penny and Sparrow.