I had the idea for this while looking over some of my other stories. All of my works can be read as a series in a way, though they do not have to. The way I see Jai, he deals with a lot of pain. We even get a few glimpses of that in the show, though we don't see why. I've always wondered what Jai's story is...

As always, Covert Affairs does not belong to me.

ENJOY!

The Masks We Wear

His hands ran over the grain of the worn wood, feeling each ridge in the old material as though memorizing it. The one thing on his mind kept his thoughts in a jumble and his lungs in a knot. Pain. White hot and burning, it shot through him.

If anything could get to the hardened agent, it was pain. It didn't matter how severe, it just went right in as if it were welcomed with open arms. He made an honest effort to hide it, he felt as though the pain were blazoned across his face, much like a news ticker in Times Square. As time wore slowly on, he realized one thing: he felt old.

He, Jai Wilcox, Prince of the CIA, felt very old, indeed.

Things hadn't always been that way. There was a time when Jai Wilcox felt youthful, even innocent. That had been before he met her.

She was everything to him. She was the air he breathed and the color in his eyes. Without her, he would die. Or, at least, it had felt that way. She was beside him every step of the way, at first, she took his heart and sheltered it. She had made it swell with a love never before imagined. Then, when he least expected, she crushed it beneath a heel-clad foot. Her hazel eyes blazed with anger as unforgiving as the CIA itself.

Why hadn't he known that she would hurt him? Why couldn't he, CIA Royalty, see that coming? With every angry toss of her mahogany locks and each mischievous grin, he should have seen it coming a mile away.

But he didn't and he was a fool. He fell for her and he fell hard, landing right on his own heart. He tried to forget, spending endless amounts of energy in an attempt to erase her face from his mind. It was imprinted into his brain and he just couldn't get it out.

Her face haunted his every dream, as well as every nightmare. Everywhere he turned, it was there. Around each corner, in every hallway, behind every step, it followed him.

She left him. He found her in his bed… without him. Another man had replaced Jai Wilcox as hers and there was not a thing he could do. How could he forget the only woman he'd ever loved? Was it even possible?

He stared out the translucent pane at the streets below him. Life moved in infinite directions, always in motion with something new and unknown. However, he was a mere outsider looking in, never touching the flow, merely skimming the surface.

Her face washed through his mind as yet another wave of pain hit him. Jai knew he had only minutes before his colleagues would arrive and he'd have to lock away every sign of his anguish, lock it away tightly with everything he had.

He liked to tell himself that it was getting easier. Maybe it was, who knew? So far, the only thing that was making any difference was his relationship with a certain blonde.

Annie Walker. Of course. Sure, at first he thought her another inexperienced rookie who would wash out in just a few weeks. Soon, however, she proved him wrong.

As the weeks progressed, he kept an eye on her. She was doing remarkably well for someone her age. Yes, she was young, but she was smart. Resourceful. Brave, even. She was everything that he expected her not to be.

She proved him wrong very easily.

Annie had actually become what he could consider a friend. He looked out for her as much as possible, making an effort to keep her out of harm's way. He felt an unexplainable urge to protect her. It was the same way he'd felt about a young cousin of his. He had been her mentor and he was determined to do the same for Annie.

When he saw her struggle with her pain over Ben Mercer, he set out to fix it at any cost to himself, even if it meant bringing up his own. Jai knew he'd never regret what he told her.

She didn't push for information, either. Annie was discreet. Annie was comforting. Annie was everything he had wanted in a sister without the hard family ties. She seemed to know so much about him without even asking.

If it had been a year earlier, he would have shut her out. He would have ignored every kind word and generous action. Perhaps he would have even been cruel. But, he knew that she was healing him. Albeit, slowly. She was the salve for his wounds.

Jai Wilcox had a mask. It was something he'd made sure to put on everyday. Somehow, though, Annie could see through it. Ever since he opened up to her on that doorstep, she was able to see the real Jai.

It felt good to know that. It felt good to have someone understand.

Someday, he would take off his mask. Someday, he wouldn't need it. That day would come sooner than he'd have thought. It was all Annie's doing. Every time he saw Annie's face, her face would fade a little more. Soon, it would fade completely.

His mask was just a ruse, but not for long. He knew that he would finally have the courage to tear it away and leave it for good. Maybe not in the immediate future, but not too far from that.

The hand on the wood stopped. His eyes moved away from the window and the life flowing outside. Instead, they rested on the woman who walked into the room. Her blonde hair fell into her face as she rushed in.

"Joan needs us for debriefing," her out-of-breath voice rang in the silent room.

Duty called, as it always would. When he stepped out of the room after her, his mask was not as important to him. It was barely there. Soon, it would be gone for good.

Soon, indeed.

Thanks for reading!
~FITS