By the look of sheer disbelief on Auggie's face, Annie thinks maybe she should have tried to be more delicate. But they didn't work so well together because they pulled punches with each other.
"That the worst you've got, Walker?" Auggie taunts. It sounds vicious and cruel. He swallows down another mouthful of whiskey and she tries not to wince.
"No." And it's the truth. If she wanted to match him for verbal brutality, she could. She still knows just how to destroy him, just like he knows how to destroy her. "No, it's not, but I didn't come here to insult you."
"Then why did you come here? Why are you here now?" His tone changes into something more calm, almost like the Auggie she knew. His soldier voice is there, commanding and solid, demanding her to confess everything.
So she does. If he wants her honesty, he will have to deal with receiving it.
"I was... asked to check up on you. When you walked out, when I let you walk out," she starts but pauses. "You were moving on to a life without all the bullshit of the Agency, a life without fearing your imminent death, a life without me. The last thing I wanted was to get in your way. So I stayed out of it.
"I made a good life too, Auggie. Ryan and I are in a good place. We're finding our way through the world where we aren't being shot at daily, and it's good. I wanted that goodness for you too. I figured that you wouldn't want the remnants of every bad memory hanging around you."
Annie stops rambling to see if Auggie has anything to add. He doesn't, judging by the way he's slouching carelessly against the headboard of the bed. His eyes are closed, and frankly she doesn't know if he's even awake. She throws both legs on top of the well-used comforter and sits cross-legged, elbows on her knees, and just watches him. It's been too long since she's just been able to look at him.
"You weren't a bad memory." His voice catches her so off guard that she startles, and at that his lips twitch in something that might have been a grin months ago.
"But I wasn't enough of a good one for you to want to stay," and the words are out of her mouth before she can really process them.
That was entirely not what she wanted to say; hell, she didn't even know she was thinking it until now. She has a great new life, even though she has to remind herself that every so often, during the too-serene candlelit dinners with Ryan and the way he sometimes closes his eyes as they're making love and mouths another woman's name into her hair. She can't blame him; it's his dead wife's name.
Auggie remains quiet, and the silence only serves to unnerve her. Since when is she unnerved around Auggie?
"No, you weren't," he agrees, minutes or hours later. "I couldn't stay with you, because every time I even thought about you, all I could hear was gunshots in that fucking elevator and everything that came after that. That's what you reminded me of. Death and destruction."
She nods even though he can't see her. She can expect that much. She knows it just as well as he does. She's tried to make herself better, though, and that has to count for something.
"But that, and I think of everything that happened, that's not the worst part," Auggie lets out a quiet laugh under his breath as he shakes his head. His body sways in a way that lets Annie know he's far from sober. She almost wants to discredit anything he says because of the booze, but he's talking to her and that's a good start. She's worried that if she stops him, he won't start talking again. It's selfish, and she knows it, but she misses his voice, even it its raspy and slurred present state.
"In my memories, on the good days, you were sunshine and driving my Corvette too fast down an empty road and the best parts of life that I can't always remember." He takes another long pull from the whiskey bottle and she notes that he doesn't offer her any.
They sit in silence, Annie mostly stunned at his confession, but to be fair, she wasn't exactly discreet either. They have more than their fair share of shit to work through.
"Come on," she instructs as she hops off the bed and around to Auggie's side. "My hotel room is clean and you need a shower and to sober the fuck up."
Auggie is far from prude, but he grabs a pair of mostly clean boxers and a tshirt from his drawer before taking Annie's elbow and walking with her across the hall. Annie takes a deep breath of fresh air in the hallway and hears Auggie do the same.
She leaves him in her shower and hopes that the hot water could wash away at least some of his demons. He emerges from the bathroom in a puff of steam and skims his hand along the wall of her hotel room.
"Stay," she says, begs, because she doesn't trust that he won't run. He sighs and curls up next to her, respectfully distant.
"It's not the same, Annie. Nothing can be the same between us," he murmurs.
As she lies in the bed with Auggie, the man she still loves in some way, she can't help but agree. After all, she's blatantly lying to the man back home who loves her unconditionally. Nothing is the same.