Auggie turns his face back to the breeze flowing through the Sri Lankan air. It may be his imagination, but it's almost as if he can feel the cleansing ocean salt against his skin. It's a good feeling, refreshing. Open and pure in a way that he hadn't remembered having in months. Despite the ocean being on the other side of his hotel walls, all he can remember is darkness and the closest to death he has ever come. That's saying something, given his personal and professional history.
Annie steps closer and suddenly the saltwater air merges with citrus and spice and he wants to laugh because the only constant he has when it comes to Annie is her choice in perfume. It's been minutes without an answer to her question, he realizes.
He has the word yes on the tip of his tongue, just to see what would happen. The curiosity is almost overwhelming; he wants to know how invested she is in staying with him. Obviously more invested than Tash, but Annie has her own life now. She's doing just fine without him, probably even better without him, but he can't let himself drive her away. Not yet, not when he feels like his head is almost back above the water.
"I'm not asking you to do anything," he answers, voice steady and hard, and he prays that she can't tell that the tone is forced. She may be the best spy he's ever worked with, but he's a better liar, that much is certain. Or at least it was certain. He knows better than to underestimate Annie Walker.
Annie pulls the balcony door open further and slides out past him. He follows her movement and allows his left hand to skim for a chair until it hits wicker, then lowers himself to the seat cushion. Annie hasn't made a noise, so he has no idea what direction she's facing. He doesn't feel rude not looking in her general direction if he doesn't know if she's looking at him. Instead, he follows the scent of the ocean waves and tries to separate it from Annie.
"You know what Joan told me when she tried to bring me on to her major task force?" Annie breaks the silence and waits a beat. He doesn't know if he was supposed to answer, but she continues anyway. "She said that I was 'dyed in the wool CIA', a rising star on my way to becoming a constellation. I used to think she was right."
Annie's facing him, probably in a chair perpendicular to his own. Auggie hears the strain in her voice. No matter what he does, he would never be able to make that go away. If anything, he's made it worse.
"You were one of the best that the Agency had to offer. You know that," Auggie replies, managing again to say something without actually saying anything at all.
"Ryan said I burned too brightly too quickly," she counters with a snort that could maybe be interpreted as a laugh, cynical as it was.
He manages to hide the wince at the mention of McQuaid's name, the casual way it fell from Annie's lips. As much as it bothers him, he agrees with Ryan. Annie was good, too good, too strong for anything that could be encapsulated by the missions he was her handler for. From the first time he met her, Auggie wholeheartedly believed that she would either die in the field or make it as Director in her own department.
The possibility of Annie leaving the Agency never crossed his mind, not until it was already done. Not until she was so far gone he had no hope of catching her.
"From what Joan said, from what I heard from everyone, you were too, Auggie," Annie intones softly, wistfully. Auggie wants to disagree, but he knows it's true. Bragging rights aside, he was damn good at what he did. "But in the end, this is where we ended up. Two rising stars, fucked up beyond repair, off the grid in a fancy hotel in Sri Lanka."
Auggie isn't completely sure what point she's trying to make, reiterating just how far they've fallen. Or him, at least. Annie still has her life together. "Would you have preferred a shitty hostel?"
Annie lets out a surprised genuine laugh at that, and Auggie tilts his lips up into the closest he has come to a real smile in months.
"Auggie," Annie sighs and his mind automatically races back to a time ages ago when she sighed his name in a much different context. "This isn't where we were supposed to end up. I don't know where we are meant to be, but it sure as hell isn't here."
His face closes up, cross at her words and the implication that he should be more than he is. It's the same feeling he had immediately after Tikrit, when he was surrounded by false cheer and forced encouragement from his family and his trainers. In the same way, Annie is doing her best, and he has to understand that, has to accept it. Auggie knows on a fundamental level that she's trying to help him, but he doesn't want to come to terms with his life yet.
It's irrational, but he wants to wallow. It's not like he has anything but time anyway.
"Don't start with me, Anderson," Annie scoffed. Clearly, she could still read his expressions. "If you don't want my help now, then I'm going to leave."
Auggie hears the resolution in her voice and he has no doubt that she actually would. It seems cold, but he's been in her position. Of everyone in the world, he still understands her the best.