Annie dresses in a breezy skirt and silk tank top before padding to where Auggie stands by the open balcony door. They are shrouded in careful silence, perfectly balancing between the emotions that threaten to leave the safety of their own minds, and she doesn't quite want to break the serenity just yet.

Fortunately, she doesn't have to.

"Do you ever think about ending all of this? Just this whole life?" Auggie asks without a hint of hesitation in his voice. If it had come from anyone else, anyone who hadn't been through what Auggie has, Annie would have flinched at the casual sound of such a dark question.

"Yes, I do. And I can't imagine a single spy who doesn't," Annie replies after a moment. She reaches for Auggie's hand and it's comforting when he squeezes her fingers briefly. She ignores the flares of heat that shoot up her arms and into the depths of her soul. "That doesn't mean we should give in to those thoughts, though."

"I don't know how you're supposed to help me, Walker," he diverts the conversation, seemingly satisfied in knowing that his self-loathing can be matched in someone who used to be so pure. "I don't know if I even want your help. I want to figure this out on my own."

Annie lets him talk out his thoughts and she fights the urge to wrap him in her arms and never let go. That's not who they are. That's not who they have been for ages, lifetimes and eternities ago.

"I don't know what I want in life," Auggie sighs finally. He roughly runs his hand through his too long hair and tilts his face up towards the sky. "But I think I need to leave here. Can't say this place has the greatest memories. You know, for either of us."

He takes a moment to shoot her a look and Annie's heart jumps. She remembers that boyish charm and a light laugh tumbles out of her mouth.

"Well, I'm with you," Annie agrees. Her mind is whirling and she's begging her heart to calm down. She wants Auggie to be happy. This version of Auggie is so far from that. She wishes she knew what he needed, that he knew what he needed. Wishing won't change anything, though, and the only thing she can do is let Auggie live his own life.

Auggie reaches out his hand and Annie readily ignores the slight tremble in his fingertips and grasps them firmly instead.

"You need help, Auggie, and I don't think I can give it to you," Annie murmurs. He looks away in what Annie fears is shame. He doesn't disagree, so that is a start.

"Do you trust me?" Annie questions. He doesn't need to say a word for her to see the answer. It might have been far past their time working together, but the trust they built from the moment they first met hasn't wavered.

"With my life."

So they do what they did best together as a team, as agent and handler. They plot their escape route. They keep their focus on their survival.

As they stand in their embrace for what feels like an eternity, the rest of the airport swirls and flies around them.

"So you're going home?" Annie feels him nod, slowly, deliberately. He changes his mind, though, maybe acting involuntarily, and shakes his head once.

"Back to D.C.," he corrects and he doesn't have to clarify. She knows what he means. Washington had been home to him for years, but when the world is so far tilted and turned around, it's hard to identify the place you belong. "What about you, Walker?"

"The problem is, Auggie, nothing has felt like home to me in a long time," Annie murmurs against his neck. If she's being completely honest with herself, nothing has felt like home since a guest house and Fourth of July cupcakes and a red Volkswagen. Or a dead ficus and a Corvette and–"

Auggie cuts her off. "You will find it again. Home. Whether it's with Ryan or someone else. You'll find home and so will I. Otherwise there's no purpose in trying to live this life."

They will see each other again, months or years or decades later. Time will stop and the world will fall away and it will just be the two of them, dancing together in a ballroom with time frozen around them.

When Annie and Auggie meet again, it's a new lifetime for both of them.

Maybe this life will treat them more kindly.