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wexhappyxfew · 7 months ago

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home is an anchor

(a/n): annie x brady girlies we're back with another piece where we finally dig a bit into annie's background; was trying to go for a bit more light-hearted again, but instead...it got a little bit sad at parts, so don't mind that. between listening to sad taylor swift songs + hard school week, just needed to put emotions somewhere and here we are :) sometimes we all need a little comfort that feels just like home......

Her mother wasn't really the best at playing the 'mother-role' but she had tried her best, especially with the amount of siblings running around.

Her father had been away in a local mechanic garage, working his hardest to earn what money he could for his family and her older brother, Roy, at the peak age of 16 was going to the mill everyday to earn some extra cash, as Annie and the rest of her younger siblings had done chores around the house, cleaning, washing, scrubbing, keeping the farm running the best they could.

And Annie, being the second oldest, just under Roy, who was always away, the stress and weight of everything seemed to fall right on her shoulders. And the nights her father was working until 2 in the morning, and the stress was far too much for her mother, who went and would drink the night away with what she could scrounge, Annie would take care of her other siblings - and when Roy would get back just after dinner, he'd help out the best he could.

They'd work side by side, feeding, cleaning, locking up the house at night, getting their 5 younger siblings into beds, washed and clean and ready for sleep without a worry in the world. Annie would forget about herself, usually taking whatever was left after everyone had eaten, usually the last to sleep or she'd stay up and wait for her father to get home so that'd he'd be taken care of. The Depression had been the hardest - not just weeks or months like that, but years. Years of that, day in and day out.

So, being here at Thorpe Abbotts - it was like it was telling her that had all been worth it.

She was currently cramped in one of the chairs in the officers' club chairs by the crackling fire, listening to the patter of rain somewhere above her, half in-and-out of sleep as she curled into herself, trying to catch up on sleep that she had missed the previous night. They'd been up so early for today's mission that the tossing and turning of her sleep had done nothing but make her run on only about an hour of sleep by that point.

Annie felt something drape over her body, instantly becoming warmer and she cracked an eye open and saw that it was Brady who had laid the blanket, who was moving himself over towards the chair opposite the table that was at her side, settling down with undoubtedly a cup of something that would take off the edge.

The blanket was warm and instantly made her a bit more exhausted than she had been previously; she shifted around a bit and then cracked open her eyes more and turned her head towards Brady, squinting at him and yawning.

"Thanks." she said through her yawn, slowly sitting up, her hair a bit wet from coming out of Silver Bullets in a torrential downpour, the chill of the evening rolling in, as she rubbed at her hands and scrambled to pull the blanket up and over her body a bit more, "Didn't think I was this tired." Brady watched her for a moment, a small laugh from his lips as he sipped his drink.

"You looked cold, and with this rain," he looked at the ceiling, "nothing a bit of a blanket can't fix."

"Yeah," Annie said quietly, cuddling the blanket up over her body a bit more, "I appreciate it." She met Brady's gentle, doe eyes and he continued smiling at her, the soft glisten of the fire dancing in his eyes as he watched her right back.

Annie lazily stared at the golden hues, her eyes becoming entranced by the flicker of the flame in front of her, enjoying the hum of the heat of the orange and yellow licks of fire in front of her, the slight chatter behind her of pilots and bartenders, the patter of the rain above them; the overall general comfort that at the minute, no one was asking for her. All she needed to do was sit here, warm up and rest.

"Gotten any news back home from your family?" Brady asked her quietly, looking towards her with an almost innocent gaze, "Some of the guys have started getting mail again, and I figured…." Annie slowly slid her eyes towards him and nodded.

"Yeah." she said, "A letter. From my father." Something in Brady's face changed.

"Everything okay?" he asked her, a slight edge to his voice that wasn't there before.

"Mom's not doing well," Annie said, but quickly recovered herself, "hasn't been for a while so." Brady slowly leaned forward in his seat, catching her gaze and a bit of guilt seeped into her stomach, just seeing that look on his face. Worry. Concern. She didn't want someone to have to worry and bother themselves over her for something she herself couldn't even control. Especially people who were already stressed beyond compare.

"Annie…."

"It's okay, really," Annie said with a nod, her eyes traveling back to the fire, "she's actually the one that didn't want me even coming here. Said she needed hands back at the farm, she couldn't do much anymore….I told her no. That I wanted to do this. And now….." Annie stared at the fire and let out a shaky sigh and nodded, before glancing back over at Brady and finding him, worry lines drawn across his face, eyes saddened, expression deep in thought.

"It's complicated." Annie said, a small laugh escaping her lips, but she felt her body constrain at the end of her attempt of covering laughter, "Sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize," Brady said, watching her gaze again as she held his, "I'm sorry, Annie." Annie watched him, their gazes a whole other level of complexity Annie had no time to dig into at this very moment, and she smiled.

"Thanks, John." she said quietly and he nodded. Then, before he could look away, she looked down at the fire and let out a small breath. She wasn't looking at him, but she could tell he wanted to say something; the air wasn't cleared, there was clearly something still on the edge of his tongue and the longer they sat in that tense silence, the more she wanted to hear him say it. Whatever it happened to be.

Annie thought back to those times - her mother drinking, father stressed out of his mind, all those kids, Roy barely afloat, Annie feeling like a single mother at 15 when she shouldn't have even been in that position in the first place. She had just done as she was told, to survive, to breathe a bit. She thought it had been the right thing and it had, but the guilt never left her. Leaving her family like that, thinking it was okay. She knew that she was an adult and had every right to do what she did, to live a bit more, fight against this war, but sometimes it ate her alive. Knowing her mother was dying and she was here. Annie hadn't realized her eyes had begun to fill with tears until one was itching down her cheek.

"Hey, Annie, you okay?" Brady asked quietly, leaning forward, his drink forgotten about along with the world. Annie looked to him and nodded, reaching up to wipe at her eyes and get rid of the tears as fast as she could - it was embarrassing, alright? To be getting so upset over this, in front of Brady, in their current situation. There were a lot more worse-off situations than hers.

"I'm okay," Annie said, "all good." Brady slowly stood and kneeled beside her chair and watched her face - God, he was pretty tall wasn't he. Kneeling beside her, he leaned a hand on the chair back that snaked an arm around the one side of her form - and he watched her face, trying to dissect the problem and fix it, seemingly as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry about your mom, Annie," he whispered, her eyes looking to his like some sort of forbidden safe haven - because it'd never leave her - even when her mother did eventually die, and this war was over. It would never go away. But she could try and bury it.

"Thanks, John," she whispered, "I didn't mean to turn into a sap. Especially here, goddamn." Annie briefly, angrily, reached up and wiped at some tears.

"It's stupid anyway."

"No it's not," Brady breathed out quietly, catching her eyes again, and offering a small smile that made her heart warm, "things like that, especially dealing with family. It's not stupid, I can promise you. Despite whatever's going on." Annie held his gaze.

"It's not stupid to me." he said softer this time, "Especially when it's you." Annie stared at him, the tears in her eyes making his face a slightly blurred Picasso painting and she managed a watery smile his way.

"I just hate the feeling, ya know?" Annie said quietly, "Feeling guilty, but knowing you can't do anything. Like, I know I can't do a thing, I did what I could, we turned out our separate ways, but I still feel like that scared little girl. To her. To me."

"Hey," Brady said quietly, reaching up to wipe at the tear that squeaked out from her eye, before resting a hand on her arm through the blanket, "don't worry yourself thin at the minute. You said it yourself. You can only do what you can right now. Especially half-way across the world. You just did a helluva bombing run, okay? You're doing your best, Annie. It's admirable." And when Brady uttered little things like that to her, she believed them like a prayer verse in the family Bible in her father's bedside. She believed it like it were something she'd whisper to herself every night. She believed it because it had fallen from Brady's lips.

"Here," Brady said, getting to his feet and standing in front of her - floppy hair in his eyes, A-2 jacket having seen better days, tie that she felt the urge to fix - and holding out a hand. Annie stared at him, raising a brow his way, and chuckling a slightly wet laugh from the tears that were slowly disappearing.

"What are you doing?" she managed out quietly, with a laugh.

"Just trust me." he said with a lopsided smirk, that seemed to light up his eyes in a way that made her insides twist. Annie laughed quietly, but shifted off the blanket, which had been delightfully warm now that it was removed from her now cold form and took his hand - warm, much larger than her own it practically encased it, and inviting. Comforting. A touch that lingered.

He took her other hand and she stared at him. There hadn't been really any times previous they'd been like this. They'd danced together once - one of those big-band upbeat songs that had her off her feet and twirling in his arms. But she'd done that with Bucky, who'd nearly twirled her into a table. This felt different though. The way his hands held her own, the way he was watching her, the way this felt.

"What's going on?" she whispered sneakily with a chuckle. Brady, smirking again that brooding and rather charming grin, pulled her closer to him and placed a hand on her hip, his thumb brushing against the fabric of her own jacket and the fleece underneath, his other hand holding her own against his shoulder like something holy. And he watched her, just inches above her and smiled.

"Ahhh." Annie whispered quietly, with a small laugh, "I'll admit, I have two left feet when it comes to this." Brady watched her, his eyes so big and whole and staring only at her; it made her want to shrink into him for some reason.

"I saw you dancing with Bucky that one time," he whispered, his voice gentle on her ears, "you have anything but." Her cheeks flamed a bit at the thought - he'd seen that? Annie laughed lightly, catching herself as she looked to his bright eyes again. He leaned his head forward to her ear.

"I didn't realize you had freckles," he whispered, before his small chuckle seemed to fill in her ears, "they're cute." Annie's face must've been on fire as a laugh left her lips and she curled her head to the side in between his neck and collarbone - he smelled sweet, almost like honey, and in some weird way, it reminded her of home.

"You're such a tease, John Brady," she whispered against his neck, his grip tightening on her hip as he pulled her closer to his form, "but thank you." He chuckled.

For a moment, they both grew quiet, these sweet nothings between them lingering and as tender as a light touch, their bodies swaying back and forth like a wave lapping gently on the shoreline. Annie closed her eyes, inviting the touch from him all over her body - her face pressed on his neckline, his hand on her hip and lingering on her hand, holding it softly, his face somewhere in her hair and near her ear, her body pressed against his chest, holding on like he were an anchor of some sort. A grounding one at that.

"No one's ever told me that." Annie whispered against his neck, her breath warm.

"What?" Brady whispered back into her ear - his voice seemingly always doing something to her no matter what.

"About my freckles." Annie said softly, no one's ever been this close. She heard Brady's little laugh in her ear and smiled.

"Honored to be the first." Brady said, though his words sort of hung out in the air like a tree branch in fall. Maybe you'll be the last, Annie thought, but jumping to thoughts like that right now was something she buried deep inside her.

"I think a part of me will always be attached to the idea of what my life was when I was younger, when Mom was better," Annie whispered, and Brady seemed to tense under her fingertips, "but, I won't lie, right now all I can think about is…." she trailed off in a manner she hadn't intended and could feel him waiting for her to finish her answer. Instead, she pulled back slightly and looked up at him and managed a small smile. He watched her, eyes glowing, on her.

"Right now all you can think about is…." Brady started quietly, expectantly waiting for an answer. Annie felt herself go red again, a deeper crimson than before and found that when he was suddenly very intently watching her like this, all she could do was smile.

"Annie." Quickly turning her head from Brady, her walls suddenly going back up unexpectedly, she found Francis coming towards them and let her walls crumble again as the woman approach with a small smile on her face.

"Listen, I hate to break this up, but Harding's been asking for you. Needs an opinion on….something or other, says there's some new crews joining us. Primeblue? I don't know, something like that - lead pilot did some runs in Africa, name's Matilda Kerkering. Got a crew, too. Like a mini-you." Francis rambled on, and then caught Annie's expression and cleared her throat, "Alright, listen, just….meet me outside. I got an umbrella and everything, real snazzy." And with that Francis was turning away and Annie was frozen somewhat in her place. Slowly, she turned back to look at Brady and found him watching her with that look on his face, all warm and gentle and intently focusing on her, his eyes all soft.

"A mini-you." Brady said, his hand squeezing at her hip a bit, before whispering in her ear, "You look incredibly excited." Annie mock-scoffed and gave him a small smack on the shoulder with a grin and shook her head.

"Just because you can read my facial expressions, doesn't mean you have to verbally express that meaning," she whispered back with a chuckle, "it might get me in trouble one day." Brady smirked at her and raised a brow and she shoved at his shoulder again with a buckle of laughter, before turning slightly and grabbing the blanket and pulling it into her arms. His hand ever-presently still lingered on her hip and she found herself enjoying that bit of a presence there. Just a touch that told her he was there.

"Thanks for taking my mind off things a bit," Annie said to him, smiling brightly up towards him, "it just gets to me sometimes, all of that. What's going on back home, can't control things, all of that. So, just, thank you, truly." Brady smiled at her and nodded.

"Everyone needs a little cheering up sometimes," Brady said, "but hey, look, I'll see you later." She smiled at him.

"Go on, Lieutenant, they're in need of your wisdom and guidance." Annie let out a bark of laughter, shoving his shoulder teasingly again before stepping away, her hip slightly cold, the lack of Brady's hand suddenly engrained in her brain, her thoughts, her feelings.

"Hey, Annie," Brady called, and she turned to look over her shoulder and found him stood, hands in his pockets, smirk on his face, "right now all you can think about is….?" Annie stared at him, suddenly staring him down from a few feet away now, no longer under his rather intense gaze that she gravitated towards.

You.

You, you, you, her head seemed to scream. Annie smiled at him and then offered him a mock salute before immediately turning away and speeding right out of the officers' club, a small smile on her lips as she stepped outside, immediately crash-landing into Francis, who caught her arm and chuckled.

"You and Brady looked incredibly cozy." Francis said with a chuckle and Annie rolled her eyes.

"Shut up."

“Just saying, looked like the guy was about to ya know, make it official or something."

"He was just being nice, Francis," Annie said, "nothing to worry about."

"You and I clearly define 'nice' as completely different things."

"It was nothing." Annie admonished again, crossing her arms and glancing up towards the woman, "Brady's just…..he's just being nice." Francis smirked and sent her a look as she held the umbrella up above their heads.

"Tell that to the grip he had on your hip." Francis said and then looked away and stepped forward, "Come on! Harding's got a million different documents that need sorting and a second brain." Annie followed under the umbrella, bright red in the face, Francis smirking like a loon. Maybe anchors didn't only anchor other things, but one another in some sort of way a war would force something to.