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if there's something inside that you wanna say, say it out loud - it'll be okay   
04:10am 16/11/2006
 
mood: worried
"Do you want to feel how it feels? Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me? Do you want to hear about the deal I'm making?" [Kate Bush] // Running Up That Hill

Whenever it rains, I can't sleep. It's pretty weird. If it's not raining and I fall asleep and then it starts to rain, I'll wake up. Which is what happened recently.

Bambi and the kids are all moved in. I've been bouncing between the FBI and NSA. I stay busy. They've tried to keep me out of the field in both offices; I suppose it's not all that bad. If I'm not in meetings then I'm filling out paperwork or running through training exercises. My days are starting to find a new routine. I wake up, run three miles, shower, and have breakfast. On alternating days, Bambi and I will get the kids up, feed them and get them on their way to school. Then I'll head into work at one of the offices, or maybe both depending on what's going on at which one. I come home, Bambi and I tagteam with dinner and helping with homework for the kids. Then I basically force them into bed by turning CNN on and catching up on paperwork before deciding to pass out myself.

I climbed into bed a few nights ago after one of these typical days. Sleep came easily, but three hours later was disturbed by the rain. I walked around my bedroom, turned the television on to the History channel, tooled around on the internet. Nothing worked. I went downstairs to get something to drink, when I saw something strange outside.

There's no backyard behind the house. There is a porch, with a staircase leading directly down to a dock that sits on the lake. Upon peeking through the blinds, I realized that what I saw was a tent. Immediately wary, I threw my raincoat and rainboots on over the shorts and tanktop I had worn to bed and grabbed my handgun and a flashlight. The neighborhood is really too nice for hobos to be setting up camp on my dock, but then who the hell was it?

Throwing up the hood of my raincoat, I headed outside and down the stairs slowly, with footsteps as silent as possible. When I reached the tent, I couldn't hear any voices, and there was no movement, but I could see a faint light shining inside. I unzipped the tent and my shone my flashlight inside only to see..... the kids.

Tabitha stared back at me with a blank expression. Rebecca was laying on her side with her head in her sister's lap, and Kyle was sprawled out on his back sleeping with his mouth open. Tabitha had a book in her hand and the two girls were reading. All three were bundled up in their winter coats. I asked Tabitha what the hell she thought she was doing.

She replied, "It's not safe in the house. It's just not."

Before I could even address this issue, I turned into the aunt that the kids hate and forced them inside. Kyle was dead to the world so I picked him up and took the twins to bed. Tabitha stood in the hallway, knowing full well that we were gonna have a little chat. I shut the door of the twins bedroom quietly and approached Tabitha, peeling my rainboots off my feet and shrugging out of my raincoat. Insert my best parental lecture in a hushed whisper:

"Tabitha, what were you thinking? It's freezing cold, you'll all catch your death of cold out there! And what do you mean 'it's not safe"? Haven't I always told you I would do everything in my power to protect you guys from harm? I care about you too much to let anything happen to you!"

All I got in reply was, "It's just not safe. I know it. It's not safe here."

I don't even know what to think about any of this. I still haven't told Bambi.		  
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no one told me about her, how many people cried   
11:57pm 18/09/2006
 
mood: exhausted

"And in your soul they poked a million holes, but you never let them show. You already know how this will end." Devotchka // How it Ends

Thoughts that have been running through my head:

  • I know that it is selfish of me to want to outlive everyone else that I love. Who would want to leave anyone behind to fend for themselves? But there is still a part of me that wants to die first. And it is not a small part of me. That’s selfish, too. I understand that much. I don’t want to have to bury anyone else in the ground. I don’t want to have to sit by anymore hospital beds and hold limp hands or receive phone calls from authority figures at odd hours of the night. I can’t bear the heartache. It is a small handful of people in my life who actually know the extent of my heartache and my loss. I mask my pain in my work.

  • When I work, I feel unstoppable. There’s no fear. I’m bulletproof. And then I stop working, and that’s when I lose control. How is it that I can look at a bomb that was planted in the Department of Defense building and immediately know the schematics and the intricacies and the details, and then come home to an empty house and struggle just being normal? I want to be normal. I wanted to have a family that was my own, with my husband. And I would’ve traded my job for it in a heartbeat seven years ago. But I was not given that opportunity and I no longer have that option. My work is all that I have that is my own, and it is the most satisfying part of my singular existence. So what happens when I go to work and something happens that tells me I am no longer bulletproof? Panic sets in. The bottom drops out. And I’m fucked.
  • I have faults like every normal person, although some of them are not typical faults. I smoke and I drink. I carry a gun even when I really shouldn’t. I’ve kept all of the pictures and everything else from my marriage knowing full well that it’s really something I should let go. I lie to my friends… all two of them. I try to set a good example for the kids, but I can’t lie about what I do or who I am. Above all these other faults, I think my worst one is that I’m selfish. And I didn’t used to be this way. But now I’ve become spiteful and feel like I deserve this. I can't go around walking on eggshells my entire life.
  • It's quite remarkable how the human body can adapt so well to extreme situations.
 
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12:10am 25/06/2006
  [ Not Carter... actually Isis. Insightful, nonetheless! ]

  
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if today was not an endless highway   
06:12pm 19/06/2006
 
mood: thoughtful
"What will be left when I've drawn my last breath besides the folks I've met and the folks who've known me? Will I discover a soul saving love or just the dirt above and below me?" Nickel Creek // Doubting Thomas

We as humans like to think we've come a long way from the cavemen huddled over a fire staving off predators. We drudge from day to day chores only to become dust in some supposedly far distant time and place, and from there... nothing. And it's occurred to me that this revelation only comes about because we have the luxury of questioning survival. So is it a positive thing? Supposedly yes, I would imagine, provided you find something more lasting and worthy to base your life around, but in reality there is nothing of lasting value. And I'm not an adherent to the divinity of the moment (unless there are mitigating factors such as being extremely high) theory... it's as short sighted as flight or fight. So where does that leave us? Confused little monkeys huddling over coffee instead of a fire.

And security and warmth are not as easily attainable for me as others. It's almost like I don't have the luxury of questioning survival - there's no choice to the fact that I'll have to fight for it. Forever. Time makes me nervous. Or anxious. I'm prone to mistakes, but I can't mistake everything for a screw. Even though it is. It's not quite shattering to realize the rapidity of my dilapidation. I'm just so tired so quickly now. And I don't know what it makes me feel to know that happiness is so few miles away. It's (by the way, screw you) feverish right behind my eye lids. The weather in here is balmy, I feel I'm malaria.

Since when have things been so deja voodoo? Who's the super-natural being that controls the tides of destiny, shake my hand, man. You keep it interesting in a spectator sitcom sort of way, if only I were on the other side of the cathode-ray. You ever want to just run and go and do what you know would make things right? Like Kyle. But instead, you don't. Feel you can't. Practical. Proper. Something in that vein. I don't want to overstep things, color outside the lines, spill on my shirt. It'll wash out. Sadly. Refrain against all of your desires for the sake of the future, and space; we all need space, for a time. And to fix everything, if I went running to you maybe it'd get tedious for you.

It starts... and I think... this is me... never really know anyone, and they say you never really know yourself. That's true and total crap too. And really when I think about it, I know that I don't have to think about it. I hate conclusive rants. I don't know anything. I just feel something. Among the holes there's a bit of winnowed... something.		  
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ever dance with the devil baby?   
01:45am 08/06/2006
 
mood: satisfied
"It's foreign on this side, but it feels like I'm home again. There's no place to hide, but I don't think I'm scared." Nickel Creek // This Side

There's a reason we have best friends. And there's a certain criteria they must fulfill in order to qualify for the position. They are the person that can spend an endless amount of days with you and never get tired, even if you're tired of yourself. They will know your every in and out. They will know that you hate orange and yellow Starbursts. They will also know that you like your coffee with two sugars and a cream. They know when to leave you alone, and when to be around. They will hold your hand at your husband's funeral. They will put a combat knife in your Christmas stocking as a serious gift, but put a packet of special effects blood in there also as a joke. And they will forgive you for the most heinous of your various unforgivable deeds.

The reason that these people exist in our lives is to ensure that we don't lose touch with ourselves. That we don't forget why we are the way that we are, and that to change at any time would be a mistake. They keep us in check.

I should've known that Bambi wasn't going to put a bullet in my head for lying to her about Kyle. But for some reason I still didn't feel at ease as I went to her apartment for the first time since Kyle had shown up. When he told me about his plans to go see her, I admit I was pissed. I was upset and I didn't want him to do it. My reasons were mostly selfish, of course. I realized that his actions would mean I would be busted in the lie as well, and I wasn't really sure how Bambs would react. But she was calm, and... we were good. Of course she admitted it hurt, but what did I expect, all flowers and sunshine? If that's the sort of reaction I got, then I would worry about all those meds she's taking.

I asked her to move back to Virginia with me, and to of course bring the children. She agreed and we'll be residing in my old lakehouse, which I've missed desperately. The water always calmed me, and I think the kids will enjoy it. I warned Bambi to be on her guard, though. With Isis as our next mark, well... we need to expect everything. The woman is out for blood and it's personal.

Kyle stopped by the lakehouse when I was moving in. Even though we're partnered, we barely get any time around each other what with briefings and meetings and training. Every new and innovative weapon or tactic is another four hours of training -- I had forgotten how satisfying field work was. But I showed Kyle the house and reminded him not to be a stranger; he may still be dead to the rest of the world, but not us. I think it will help us maintain some semblance of normalcy that none of us have experienced in a long time.

Things are looking up. I wish that I wasn't so skeptical to know that it won't last, but I know it all too well.
  
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i just know that these things will never change for us at all   
12:55am 22/05/2006
 
mood: sore
"And not to pull your halo down around your neck and tug you off your cloud, but I'm more than just a little curious how you're planning to go about making your amends to the dead."  A Perfect Circle // The Noose

I'm exhausted. My body aches. I spent four days in the hospital -- I practically ripped the IV from my arm when they told me I could leave.

But Zorin's dead. He's dead. And it's nowhere near to being over.

Somewhere between firing a shotgun shell into the head of Zorin's right-hand man after he broke one of my ribs and having a gun pointed at my head for the second out of three times that afternoon, Kyle and I discovered that Isis was working for Zorin. Yes, Isis. We know she's going to pick up where he left off, but Kyle let her go. He let her leave. I'm not positive that he can bring himself to ever kill her, but at one point it will be necessary. The bitch shot me in the arm, so I'm not going to hesitate returning the favor.

I'm being completely honest when I say that I really wasn't sure if Kyle and I were going to make it out of the mission alive. And he made a deal with Zorin that was intended to guarantee my escape. It backfired in Zorin's face (literally), but not before he was able to shoot Kyle in the stomach. He wanted me to leave him... asshole. If it comes down to it, I'm always going to choose Kyle over the job. It's always been that way for us as a team. There's no more question about it now.

Lambert has partnered us permanently. I think it's back to Virginia for me -- great. The Bureau will be ecstatic to see me back there.... eh. I will be asking Bambi to come and bring the kids. I can't leave them... Zorin mentioned their names and I wouldn't put it past Isis to try something.

There's no way out now.		  
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talking shit about a pretty sunset   
02:01am 14/11/2005
 
mood: thoughtful
"I wanted freedom, bound and restricted. I tried to give you up, but I'm addicted. Now that you know I'm trapped, sense of elation. You'd never dream of breaking this fixation. You will squeeze the life out of me. You will be the death of me. Yeah, you will suck the life out of me. Bury it, I won't let you bury it. I won't let you smother it. I won't let you murder it. But our time is running out." ~ Muse // Time is Running Out

I feel as if there is this weight on my shoulders, mainly because we don't know where Zorin is or what he's up to. Let's just say we didn't leave Paris on a happy note. The problem is that I'm witness to his power and his potential; I believed the man when he told me he wanted the world. Why is it that I feel confident in referring to him as a potential Hitler for our time? A man who would stop at nothing to achieve what he wanted, no matter how unbelievable or ironic it was.

I find myself being pulled in two directions. There's a split down the middle and both sides are pulling at the polar opposite. Self destruction is inevitable. On the one hand, I want to do my job. Hooking up with the NSA offers me other various outlets to utilize my skills and do what it is that I do best. But coming home from Paris and seeing the children makes me want other things. For one, a real life.

I have not been living in a fantasy. I know that this is not a real life. Real people don't sleep with guns left at various accessible points in their apartment for any situation. Real people don't fly to Europe to infiltrate a rich man's system to find out where he is linked to the government. Real people don't have to worry about their best friend's children being kidnapped or murdered or some having some other unspeakable act happen to them.

If I wanted to be a "real person," who would do what it is that I do? These are not solo jobs, mind you, but each individual plays key roles and in ones absence, who steps in? We don't have bench warmers and we don't have a "sixth man." If, God forbid, someone dies in the middle of an operation, then something has gone horribly wrong and Murphy's Law is the only law that applies. Up Shit Creek without a paddle.

I feel a sense of duty in two directions, and never before have I dealt with this. I suppose when I was with my husband it offered a compromise. Work in the day and come home to a normal life at night. What has happened, however, is since my husband's death, I've let myself become so completely consumed in my work that it has started to spill over into my "normal" life, and now it's not so normal. I have to worry about that part, also. There was a time when I wanted children of my own and a normal home life. I feel that it is impossible now; I guess this is why I carry on with what I do. A sacrifice that can't be taken back. I will die working.

Kyle is trying to regain normalcy. He went to see Isis. Talk about another couple of people who just aren't "normal." While there are people who feel this strong sense of duty that people like Kyle, Isis, and myself feel, few return from their tour of duty feeling as strongly as they did. They become bitter and resent their roles and the reasons they are at war or fighting for others. People like Kyle, Isis, and myself are the ones who keep coming back for more; we are the ones with the addiction.

I just wonder sometimes what it would be like without people like us.		  
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if you'd been a dog they would have drowned you at birth   
02:54pm 07/10/2005
 
mood: angry
"I'm a peace-loving decoy, ready for retaliation. I change the whole occasion to a pine box six-under. Impulsive, don't ask wild wonder. Orders given to me is: strike and I'm thunder with lightning fast reflexes on constant alert from the constant hurt that seems limitless with no dropping press." ~ Gorillaz // Dirty Harry

I guess we're just getting old.

I should have known Zorin was on to us. I mean, come on. If you could see him, you'd know what I was trying to say. Basically, that he has any and every resource at his very fingertips. That he would find out who I was and who I worked for, sooner if not later.

I don't care to recall the way he looked at me and the things he said to me. Disgusting.

Needless to say, Kyle and I got out of there as soon as possible in our typical fashion. Kicking ass, stealing, and blowing shit up. But I'll say it again; I guess we're just getting old. We should've known better, especially with this guy.

Honestly, I'm ready to kill him. I'd love to be the one who wraps their fingers around his neck and steals the very life from his lungs. I don't think that's so much to ask when it comes to destroying the scum of the earth. He deserves the most excrutiating type of death. The type where you recognize the fact that life is slowly being drained from your body and you can feel it and you're very aware of it.

It's the type of death I fear the most.

So why shouldn't he get to experience it?		  
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once again, we are hungry for a lynching...   
12:54pm 15/09/2005
 
mood: nervous
"Limb by limb, tooth by tooth, tearing up inside of me. Every day, every hour, I wish I was bullet proof."  ~ Radiohead // Bulletproof... I Wish I Was

It was probably one of the most uncomfortable nights of my life. Standing there with this man, pretending I was interested and attracted to him. I think I already hate / love my job with the NSA.

Kyle and I were in Paris, following leads of higherups who, we believe, had power over even Arancio. It was mostly an undercover stint, spending a night in an expensive dress talking about investing money with this bank and this man... Max Zorin. Kyle needed me to distract him while he went to find files. So I spent almost an hour speaking to this man about money, about being unbelievably rich. I used to love going undercover, I really did. I enjoyed playing a role that night. He fell for everything, and it wasn't difficult to keep him occupied with conversation. I didn't think it was going to be that bad. I mean, honestly, how bad could it have been? Spend an hour or so flirting with this man, let Kyle get what he needed, and get out of there. But Kyle needed more information that he couldn't get on the company database. So now we have to go to this Max Zorin's estate, and I have to spend even more time with him. An entire fuckin' weekend.

He sickened me, honestly. He's power hungry and crazy. He spoke about wanting to attain respect, power... "the world." You can just look at this man and know that he's planning something diabolical. I don't even want to imagine. But when I spent time with him, I couldn't help it. I had to fight back several urges to jam my heel into his heart.

After the party, Kyle and I returned to the hotel room and told our superior that we'd have to spend more time on the case. He and I spent some time on the balcony, discussing things. Mainly about the options we have in front of ourselves: me considering retiring from the Bureau and returning to teaching. Taking a more active part in the kids' lives and making sure Bambi is going to be okay. Kyle told me he wanted to see Isis when we got back to the States, which I told him I would help arrange. It appears as if the two of us want to regain some sense of normalcy in our lives -- normal being one thing we've both come to realize is basically not part of our vocabulary. But the more I thought about retiring, the more I realized it wasn't what I truly wanted. I mean, since Kyle and I have been working together I've gotten to kick more ass than in the past four years. I've been doing okay working and still being able to help out with the kids, and I think sometimes when I leave on these missions, Bambi realizes she can't just let the kids fend for themselves. I know Tabitha helps her out. The last thing I ever want to do, however, is endanger Bambi and the kids. If it ever comes to that, it's going to rain fuckin' fire...
  
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time to feed the monster   
01:48am 16/08/2005
 
mood: stressed
"Little angel, go away. Come again some other day. The devil has my ear today. I'll never hear a word you say. He promised I would find a little solace and some peace of mind. Whatever, just as long as I don't feel so desperate and ravenous." ~ A Perfect Circle // Weak and Powerless

I've been working more and more with Kyle lately. Damn if it isn't killing me keeping this secret from Bambi. And what's worse is I feel extremely guilty because not only do I know that he isn't dead, but I also get to spend time with him. It's like nothing ever happened between the two of us, though it wasn't always this way.

There was definitely a time where I felt very bitter towards Kyle. I felt like he was using me for information that he needed, coming into my apartment whenever, getting whatever files he needed, leaving. We barely ever spoke, just mild pleasantries about how this was going or that. Everything was so strained. I've never felt like it was necessary for him to fake his death. There was a lot of tension and animosity between us. He actually dared me to kill him if I felt it would've been easier that way. Asshole.

Things changed when he found out Jay Arancio was back. That he was manipulating me like when I was Deputy Director in DC. Arancio came to my place one night when Kyle was there, telling me he needed me to go to Ireland and assist in the recovery of important files that would eventually help blow up a plane over the Atlantic coast. A statement by the Irish Republican Army. That fucking asshole knew that it would kill me inside to do something like that. Kyle made his presence known by killing the man that came with Arancio and telling Arancio he would come with me. So we went to Ireland, dove into freezing waters for some bullshit files, where a man tried to kill us. Fun, hm? Only the best from Jay. So we went back to the house of my friend in Ireland who provided us with gear, and of course Arancio's men had taken over. Basically, Arancio wanted to kill me. It ended up the opposite way.

The relief was unbelievable. Arancio had been manipulating me since I became Deputy Director. Killing him was like killing the devil on my shoulder.

I went home for a few days to check on Bambi and the kids. The twins are starting Kindergarten and Tabitha needs to go back to school. I don't even want to think about what the teacher is going to say when the children start drawing pictures of their families and they have two mommy's instead of one. Bambi hasn't gotten much better, but not very worse, which is a good thing. Kyle and I have discussed the possibility of letting her know that he's still alive, but it's almost like the damage has already been done. I just don't know what we can do to change things. I tried to talk some sense into her, letting her know that she needed to be strong for the sake of the kids. I understand she needs time to recover, but it's been almost five years. We were cooking dinner and I pretty much thought she was going to stab me with the knife she was cutting the chicken with. In fact, I was positive. I fear the moment when she snaps and does something like that. It gives me nightmares. But... I don't know what else I can do. I let Marie check in on the kids when I'm gone and just... pray for the best. I would like to get a house at Calville Bay just outside of Vegas, a lakehouse like my old one in DC. Bambi and the kids could live with me. But that would never work. My job is too dangerous, and Kyle comes to see me too often.

And now? Well, fuck. I'm working for the NSA in the same division as Kyle. Supposedly his superior pulled me in to work for them, and now I'm being shipped off to Paris to distract some old man while Kyle breaks in and steals files and shit. Don't get me wrong. I'm really fucking excited about getting to work undercover again and it feels great to work with Kyle again. It's just... we were at his place in DC having a few beers like I like to before a job, and we just sort of opened up to each other. He said he had a lot of regrets about the past and one of them was never letting me know how much he cared about me. Yeah, cared about me. I had to admit I was attracted to him when we first met. Who wasn't? But I was with my husband at the time, and Bambi absolutely devoted her heart to him. I could never do that to her. Ever. But dammit if I didn't give him a kiss, just barely, not even on the lips, when he said that. We both know it would never work. Our real chemistry lies in the work we do together, and the way we work in the field. We've always had each other's backs. Strictly professional.

Sometimes I just want to say "fuck it all," but I can't. I have to be strong for everyone.		  
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Little bit of background...   
04:57am 15/08/2005
  ( 100 Questions )  
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rebeccacarter
 
 

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