The Everlasting, Chapter 5
Title: The Everlasting
Rating: PG-13 for now
Spoilers: Up through end of season 2
Pairing: Alec Hardison/ Eliot Spencer
Warnings: None for *this* chapter...
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Story starts here.
After months of sleeping on roofs, parking garage floors, park benches and the ground itself, Eliot was a little surprised to wake up in a bed feeling so stiff, sore, and utterly unable to open his eyes. He rolled over to go back to sleep when a crinkling noise caught his attention. Paper, lying just under his elbow.
It took a few minutes to roll over enough to pick it up, another one to open his eyes to read it.
If I'm not downstairs, I'm up top and I'll be down in a bit. Coffee's in the thermos on the desk, clean mugs are on the shelf downstairs whenever you actually manage to wake your snoring ass up.
-Alec
p.s. I didn't draw anything on your face, though I was quite tempted. You sleep like the dead, man.
Eliot growled, more concerned that he hadn't woken up the moment Hardison moved than he was with anything he might have scrawled across his forehead, but it didn't stop him from checking his reflection in a dead computer screen before grabbing the coffee and heading downstairs.
Outside, through the window, the sun was making a weak attempt to come out over scads and handfuls of people walking east, probably out towards one of the ration points. Hurrying and annoyed and tired and stressed. Not a car in sight, millions of people dead, and rush hour still sucked.
He leaned against the counter and watched for a while, not really seeing much of anything, thinking vaguely about finding a mug for the coffee, but too tired to put any sort of plan into action.
It wasn't long before he heard a loud slamming up above, and Alec's footsteps coming along the hall and down the stairs, toolbox in hand.
"Hey, man," he grinned as he shoved the box onto a nearby cabinet. "You hungry? Didn't think you'd be up this early."
"Don't think I am," Eliot smirked, resisting the urge to yawn. "Even more tired than I was yesterday. Not really hungry, though." Alec nodded, rummaging around on the shelf to find two mugs and pouring the coffee. "What're you doing up there, anyway?"
"We've got a few months, but it's gonna start getting cold soon. Sunlight's gonna be at a bigger premium than it already is, so unless I want to freeze to death, I need about three hundred times the amount of power I'm currently getting, never mind the work that needs to be done on the generators for the school."
The coffee was surprisingly strong, but Eliot wasn't sure it wasn't just a case of not being used to it, any more. He couldn't even tell if it really tasted burnt or not. "The school?"
"Yeah. Parker's over there, along with about sixty others. Lot of kids, some with families, some without. The usual."
"Seriously?" Eliot rolled his neck, wincing as the stiffness failed to fade. "Would've thought she'd be gone. What's she doing there?"
"Lookin' after them. Making sure they actually get the supplies they need. Doing their shopping, man, what do you think?" Hardison scowled in faint irritation, and it didn't take too long to figure out what he'd said wrong.
"Right. Sorry, man. Just. Tired. Things ain't looking the way I thought they would."
"Right on," Hardison shrugged, broke into a grin. "Hell, things ain't lookin' the way anyone thought they would. Like you."
"What d'you mean?"
"That beard? And the bags under your eyes? You look done in."
"Whatever, man. You don't look quite right yourself." And it was true, though for the most part, Alec looked good. His hair was a bit longer, but he'd managed to get it trimmed sometime recently. His clothes were in relatively pristine repair, though the jeans seemed a bit baggier. For the most part, he looked like he'd just had an overly long weekend, rather than living through the end of the world.
It was just the eyes, really, that had changed. If Alec were somebody else, and Eliot were anybody else, he'd ask about it. Find out if it happened months ago, or just last night, when Eliot was too late to help.
"I'm fine," Eliot rubbed a hand over his face. "Just haven't woken up yet. When're we gonna see Parker?"
"Dude, seriously?" He rolled his eyes. "She probably went to bed an hour ago, maybe two. You've got time to crash for a few more hours."
Eliot didn't want to think about the fact that Hardison knew Parker so well, that they'd had months' worth of inside knowledge that he'd missed out on. And the fact that he was essentially being told to go to bed like a good little boy wasn't sitting right, either.
He was just irritated enough to stagger back up the stairs, but he wasn't ready for Alec to follow him five or ten minutes later, when he was still trying to find something that resembled a comfortable position.
"Here," Alec handed him a bottle of water and knelt by the side of the bed, rummaging around a nearby drawer for some pills. "Ibuprofen, if it helps. I'm gonna open up shop in a bit, here. Come down whenever you want."
"You tuckin' me in, now?" Eliot downed some water, ignored the pills, and lay back down.
"Nah, man. Just making sure I don't have to babysit your exhausted ass because you can't even walk in a straight line," Hardison smirked, tugging the blanket up over Eliot's shoulder. "But I've got time to read you a bedtime story, if you like."
"Fuck off."
"Warm powdered milk? Only three times more disgusting than the real thing?"
"Fuck off."
"Need a teddy bear?"
"Hardison, Eliot growled. "I'm fine."
"If you're sure. Don't let the bedbugs bite. And don't think about that, either. You don't even want to know where I had to drag this mattress up from." Alec easily evaded Eliot's swatting arm, backing out of reach before rising.
Eliot watched him go, and wondered if he was supposed to have done something differently, right then. Considered getting up again, but he was too tired. And he'd finally gotten comfortable. The rest could wait.
---
Eliot had looked like hammered dog shit, his eyes more closed than open, and it had been a relief. It meant that he hadn't asked any questions Alec didn't know the answers to, and he could put off trying to even think about them until later. In the meantime, he had a post office to run.
Mica showed up a few minutes early, leaning against the dead stamp machine and watching Alec sorting the contents of the drop box and picking out the few letters from the postage. One can of chili, a roll of toothpaste, and a surprising amount of baby stuff, clothes and bottles and even a tin of formula that hadn't gone off yet, more stuff than was needed to cover the shipping. Word had gotten out that Lisa Culverson, over at Parker's school, was nearly due. He wondered if the messages they'd sent out would bring a doctor to deliver the baby in time. He doubted it.
Somebody had paid in the shrimp ramen that Janice liked, so he left it on the counter, ready to go out with her delivery. By the time the last of the outgoing mail was bundled and ready to go, Janice still hadn't shown to collect her route, but Tre was there, watching Alec even more curiously than Mica had been doing.
"Everything cool?" he asked, eyes darting towards the back room and the mess that still hadn't been cleaned.
"Yeah. Nothin' else happened last night."
Tre nodded, glancing at Mica, who thankfully only asked, "Alec, man, who was that guy? Elroy. What's his deal?"
"Eliot? Friend of mine from back in the day. He's crashed out upstairs." Still lying in the bed. In my bed. Right now, he's here. Right upstairs. Alive and in my bed and soon he'll be waking up.
"Good people?"
"Yeah." Alec turned to hide his grin, opening the safe where their payment was stored, shoving the night's take on the top shelf before stepping aside so they could grab their cut. "Any idea where Janice is?"
Mica hesitated again, and for a moment Alec was positive he was about to bring up last night, but apparently he was trying to guess where Janice was hiding out this time. "Not a clue. Need one of us to take her route?"
Alec scratched his chin as he glanced at the route maps. Janice's drop-off was the launch point for everything going out west. If the mail didn't go through Boylston, it would have to go through Dallas just to get to Chicago. "Yeah, probably. Wish she'd just stay somewhere where we could track her, you know?"
"Yeah. That's her, though. She'd been livin' on the streets for so long, having her pick of apartments is still goin' to her head, you know?"
"Yeah. Alright. Boylston Street. Either of you got the time, you go ahead and take her cut, too. She shows up, I'll talk to her. "
Mica looked wary, but Tre was smirking. "I got this, Mica's got to make himself pretty for Maria tonight."
"Maria, huh?" Alec tried to attach a face to the name he'd heard so much about, and failed. "You finally talked her into it?"
"We're just hangin', yo. Ease up," he said, grabbing his food and a roll of dental floss from the safe, sequestering them in his pack before heading towards the door.
"Just hanging my left nut," Tre called out as he followed Mica out the front door.
As he was locking up the safe, Alec didn't know that it was the last thing he'd hear Tre say. He'd barely registered that he'd heard it at all, because he had to sort through all the local mail before anyone came in looking for it. And there was cooking to sort out, at some point, and bloodstains to be cleaned.
---
The mess in back- because calling it a mess was easier than calling it a murder scene, even if Alec knew better- took ages to clean. It didn't help that he hesitated before each stroke of the scrub brush.
He'd just wanted the guy to back off. The Guy. He'd never wanted to wipe him out of existence.
But he worked until all that remained was a damp looking smear on the concrete, a stain on the wall that might need another scrubbing, and a pile of dirty garbage shoved in the corner.
Should've grabbed the damned trashcan, he thought, dropping the scrub brush into the bucket and rocking back on his heels to survey the scene. Maybe he'd clean the rest of this out, one of these days. For having the huge loading dock door right there, it retained heat like nobody's business. Seal the door up, it might be worth moving down here when winter came.
The Guy would probably have another few bodies stacked on top of him by the time the snow came. And he'd have moldered a bit already too, sunk into the ground a bit. Mixed with the neighbors and frozen into a solid mass of-
It could've fucking well been you.
He grunted as he rose from his knees and caught sight of Parker sitting on a crate, ten feet behind him.
"That blood yours?" she asked, only sounding mildly curious.
"Uh. No." Alec took a breath and watched her, carefully, as he made his admission. "Guy tried to kill me last night. Got him first."
"Good," she replied, hopping down, like he'd said it's not going to rain today, or there's coffee in the thermos. "Looks like we might have a problem."
How is that not a problem?, he wondered, following her into the front, pausing at the foot of the stairs. "Uh, Parker. Got a second before we get into that? Need to show you something."
She didn't reply, just examined him quizzically as he waved her up the stairs.
---
Eliot woke on impact, his hands coming up to block even before his eyes were open.
All he saw at first was a mess of short blonde hair, and Alec smirking in the doorway. Then the hair moved, back and up, and Parker's face was beaming down at him.
"…so good to see you," she was saying, lunging forward to wrap her arms awkwardly around him again. "Missed you, I hope that's okay." The short hair was a change, but there were a lot of things that were different, and this one-
Fuck, she was really here.
There wasn't much air in his lungs, but he managed a laugh, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing tight. "You too, Parker. Holy shit." He struggled for a minute to sit up as Parker backed off and stood up awkwardly.
"Nice beard."
"Fuck. I mean, Hardison said, but. Damn, girl!" He grabbed her again and laughed, glancing at Hardison over her shoulder. "And he also said you weren't gonna be around until tonight."
"Huh? Parker stepped back, scowling in puzzlement. "It is evening, Eliot."
"Yeah, man. You've been out cold all day."
"Seriously?" Eliot glanced out the window and groaned. The sky was about the same shade it had been when he'd fallen asleep, but there was no doubt that only a few moments had passed. "Sorry about that."
"No problem. You're up in time for dinner, anyway. Which is my cue to go down and get it together. Any requests?"
"Got anything that isn't oatmeal?"
"Chili, spaghetti, or mac and cheese with whatever vegetables I grab at random. Parker, you staying?"
"Do you have enough?"
"Yeah, we're good," Alec said, ducking his head back into the room. "Remind me, there's more stuff for Lisa in the safe, you should grab it when you get the chance."
--
"So catch me up, how the hell are you? What's goin' on?" Eliot stretched and decided that maybe some painkillers weren't the worst idea in the world.
"What's Hardison told you?" Parker sat down on the chair, crossing her legs and leaning forward.
"Not much. Looks like he nearly got killed last night, but took the bastard out."
"He was just finishing cleaning up when I got here," she said. "Do you think he's okay?"
Eliot gave it some thought. "I don't know. Haven't talked to him much. Think he will be, though."
Parker nodded slowly. "Yeah. It's sick, but I've kind of been waiting for something like this for a while now. People've been weird since the world ended." She bit her lip and glanced to the side. "I've had to kill a few people myself. I didn't tell him, though."
"Why not?"
"He's Hardison."
"Yeah."
"What about you?" At Eliot's questioning look, she elaborated. "Where've you been? You been okay? Talk to anyone? Had to kill anyone?"
"Came up from South America. Few fights on the way that never went as far as killing, but one was a close thing. Um. Got a letter from Sophie when I came into town."
"Really? She's okay?"
"Last I heard, it's a few months old, though it said Nate was fine, too."
"Good," Parker sighed, happily, and it wasn't until then that he realized exactly how worried she'd seemed. "Wait a minute. How'd she get the letter to you?"
"Not sure. She managed to have the guards looking out for me, and they just handed it over when I got here. Thought it was orders from up the chain at first, and the guards did too, so I didn't ask them about it."
"Why would you be getting orders?"
"Shit's gone to hell, they're looking for all the help they can get. I'm guessing could be on a list somewhere or something. People getting called back in."
"But you don't have orders?"
"No, I have Sophie's orders."
"And what were they?"
"To find you guys," Eliot said. "Letter's in the side pocket of that bag, if you want to take a look at it."
Parker slid the pack closer and undid the zipper silently, finding the creased paper and running her eyes over it. Eliot stopped watching when it looked like she was about to start crying.
---
There was movement upstairs, and soon Parker and Eliot would be coming down. Alec could hear her telling him about the night the church on Arlington Street burned down, and how she'd accidentally wound up with seven children, three teenagers, and one and a half married couples following her back to the hideaway she'd made for herself in the attic of the nearby high school.
"…and after that, it just sort of started growing from there. There's about sixty people living there now. The adults take shifts working security, and we've found enough stuff to get the kids back into the classrooms, but it's weird. Not like how school was when I was a kid at all. And there's nobody teaching chemistry, but nobody seems to mind."
"Can't say I blame them," Eliot said as they wandered into the break room, just as Alec was pulling the chili off the hotplate. "Hey, man, you need help with any of that?"
"Nah, I got it." Parker went to the drawer to find some silverware, and a few minutes later, they were sitting down around one of the empty tables. There were plenty to choose from. "You awake yet, Eliot?"
"I think so. Yeah?" Eliot yawned, regarding his chili blearily for a moment before starting to eat.
"So what's it like out there?" Alec asked, after a few minutes, needing to distract himself from the blandness of the food. He'd done what he could with it, but the spice rack was running dangerously low. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Parker completely ignoring her food in favor of staring at Eliot.
Eliot shrugged, swallowing before speaking. "Ain't all that different from here, but everyone's moving. Everything's fucked, all the way down to Florida. The Midwest is totally screwed, apparently there was enough radiation getting through that the crops aren't gonna recover anytime soon. Pretty much stuck to the coastal states on the way up. Don't know anything about, like, California or anything. Nobody's really figured anything out yet. There's nowhere to go, but people are going anyway, you know?"
"Yeah," Alec said, unsure why the prognosis, which he'd guessed at already, was so damned depressing.
"So anyway. What's the deal with this Cornelius dude?"
---
Eliot wasn't ready for the dark look that crossed both Parker and Alec's faces. It took a few moments for Alec to start.
"Bad news, man. Got a stranglehold on the supply chain. Set up shop out in the harbor, has a huge crew, they're blocking relief agencies from getting in. You can still get stuff from him, but the markup is insane. He's been taking advantage of people, getting them so into debt that they're stuck with him as unwilling allies. He and his crew run around collecting debts. They've raped some people, beat up others, and he's got us locked in on the East and West sides."
"We've been making deals with some of the gangs, trying to get them organized, but it's like herding three legged cats," Parker explained. "And it's getting worse," she glanced over at Hardison. "What I was coming over to tell you. Have you heard the radio lately?"
"Not today, no."
"Some people were talking. Apparently the relief agencies are getting so fed up with people like Cornelius that they're talking about pulling out to reassess their delivery models. Could get ugly real quick."
"Uglier, you mean," Eliot grumbled. "You guys made any deals with him yet?"
"Haven't had to," Alec answered, the yet hanging heavily in the air. "Been able to hold out so far 'cause of the deal we've got set up here. People want to get stuff mailed, they have to contribute. It's enough to feed us and the runners, with extra for the school, but people are running out of things to trade. Don't know how long it's going to last."
"This could be good, then," Eliot said. "I mean, yeah, it's gonna get tight, but if Cornelius doesn’t have resources anymore…"
"Then he's just going to come in and try to get them from us," Parker said. "Start collecting on his debts worse than before."
"Yeah. Guess so," Eliot admitted, stirring at his chili, his head miles away. "Sophie said you were gonna make a move on him?"
"Planning on it, but don't know how, not really. Hoping to get enough people on side to deal with him head on, but it's been ages, and people are hungry and scared. And even if we knock him out, someone else could easily step in."
"Sophie said she's getting Nate out and heading here. Don't know when or if she's going to be able to put it off," Eliot started, but Alec was pulling a grim face.
"Yeah, but how long can we sit and wait for them?"
"I know, it's just. I'm thinkin' out loud, here. Okay. So. We need to get him and his people out without creating a power vacuum. They're armed?"
"To the teeth." Parker confirmed as Alec nodded. "All of them."
"Okay. So they're better armed and there are a lot of them. They've got the harbor and the west side."
"Closing in on the south, too," Alec said. "Least that's what I hear. Intel's scarce, man. We're runnin' blind up in here."
"Okay. So if they get the north side, Boston's boxed in, and there's no stoppin' them. Right." Eliot ran his hands over his face in frustration, scratching at his beard. "Right. Well. I got nothin', man. Give me a bit, I'll come up with something'."
---
Alec was sliding the window shut behind Parker when he saw Mica hurrying down the block, looking agitated. And unless the kid was a hell of a lot less smooth than he usually made out to be, it wasn't just the date he was worried about. Alec was opening the front door before Mica had a chance to go for his key.
"Alec, man. It's bad. Tre's dead. Got shot workin' Janice's route. Looks like she went down yesterday. You know Jimmy?"
"He's Kings, right? They pressin' the border?"
Mica shrugged. "They ain't had any problem with anyone on those blocks, more'n usual. Just the mail, or something. King's are mountin' up, it's gonna get ugly real fast." Mica shook his head, dropping the bag on the floor. "Janice didn't have family, right?"
"Not that she ever said."
"Right," Mica nodded, rolling his neck and sighing. "Look, man. I gotta go tell Tre's Mama."
Alec was getting damned tired of this shit, this entire fucking life. "Want me to do it, you got that girl-"
"Maria can wait," Mica rolled his eyes. There was a story there, but it wasn't the one they needed to talk about. "I've known Tre's mama since forever, she should hear it from me, y'know?"
"Yeah," Alec sighed. "Hey, look. Tell her I'm really sorry, and Tre's deal still stands. We can call it a pension, or something."
"Right on," Mica's smirk was nearly a sneer, for all the humor that was lacking, so Hardison made the same deal. "And same for you, if you want to retire. You want out, it's cool. Figure you've just made partner, at this point."
Mica snorted, shaking his head. "Nah, man. Ain't like that. I'm not some charity case. I'll be back tomorrow-"
"No you ain't. Mail can wait a few days. I got to think about some shit, sort out a new plan, alright?" It was a pathetic offering, but it was all he had, really. Mica nodded, and Alec pretended not to notice that he had his gun drawn even before stepping outside.
---
It took forever to hack through the beard with the scissors in order to get it short enough to shave, but finally, it was done. The result wasn't much of anything to write home about. The newly revealed skin was pale, standing out in stark contrast to the deep tan of his face, thinner than he remembered it being.
Then again, he thought, glancing down at his shadow-lined ribs, it's not exactly something to be surprised by, now, is it? He'd already gone down four waist sizes, a long time ago. He looked fucking ill, like he'd died on the road and his body hadn't gotten the message yet, and the illusion would've been more easily dissipated if the process of shaving hadn't wiped him the hell out.
And now he was supposed to come up with a plan to take out Cornelius. Because Alec, apparently, couldn't hack it.
Couldn't hack it. Maybe that was the problem.
And shit, from what it sounded like, this wasn't just one bad guy taking advantage. It was as close to the opening volley of a war as Alec had ever been, maybe Parker, too. It was no wonder they were spinning their wheels. This was Eliot's game. He could do this. He'd done it before. Started it, ended it, whatever needed doing, he'd done.
He'd never done it feeling this damned tired, though. Never this close to home.
And he'd never pull it off, either. Not if he kept staring himself down in the mirror trying to guess how much life he had left in him.
---
He was ready for Hardison's teasing when he made it back downstairs, but found only rigid shoulders, crossed arms, and eyes looking out the windows, seeing nothing. He was fucking still.
"Hardison?" Eliot stepped back when Alec started. "Hey, sorry, man, what-" He fell silent when he realized that there was nothing at all in Alec's eyes. No humor, no sadness, no anger. Nothing that Eliot could even hope to read. "Alec?"
"We lost two more today. Good people."
"What happened?"
"Cornelius, it looks like. Took out Tre and Janice."
"Janice?"
"Another mail runner. She was," Alec shrugged. "Doesn't matter," and he turned his attention to the pack lying on the floor.
"She was what?"
"Just this chick. Been homeless for a year before it all went down. She was a little off, like, quiet, didn't trust people, not ever. Not even me, probably. Moved around a lot, didn't even know until today."
"When did it happen?"
"Yesterday. I should have known yesterday."
"Why?"
"I sent Tre out to cover her route. Same thing happened-" Alec's jaw clenched shut angrily, and he glanced sidelong at Eliot. "I've killed three people in two days. What's your record?"
If you really wanted to know that, you'd have looked it up by now, Eliot thought about answering, but that wasn't what this was about anyway. "A lot more than that, man."
"Does it get easier?"
"Yeah," Eliot said, at length. He wouldn't be doing Alec any favors, lying to him. Giving him platitudes about wanting it to be hard, to kill a person, about how it makes you human, but maybe they didn't live in that world any more. "Yeah it does."
---
"Gotta get you some fake tanning lotion or something for your face. There's a big stripe across it," Alec mumbled into his shoulder, once the lights were out.
"Yeah," Eliot grimaced at the ceiling and shifted, his movement making Alec resettle against him. This, then, was what they were doing. Talking around things. Trying to make jokes. "I noticed. Think the drug store is still open?"
"It's probably all that's left, man."
"I'm sure I could pick up a few bottles of nail polish." Eliot couldn't imagine that there'd been too many people looking for manicures, lately.
"Nah, that stuff's better than ink. Doesn't run when it gets wet," Alec replied, reminding him of all the signs he'd seen coming in to town Bible passages and signs offering work in trade for supplies. Have you seen Rebecca, and The world hasn't finished ending, yet. "But if you want, we can go find you a curling iron or something in the morning."
"Okay," Eliot didn't feel up to laughing, but it needed some sort of acknowledgement.
"I need you to show me how to do what you do."
"What d'you mean?"
"Disarming people. Not letting people get killed."
"Okay. It's a lot of practice, and-"
"Don't worry, my expectations, at this point, are pretty low." He rolled onto his back. "But this sucks ass."
"Nothing you could have done about Janice and Tre."
"Yeah, but. It's gotta be karma, right? Like, what was Nate talking about? Chess. I take a pawn, they take out my bishop and knight."
That, maybe- the fucking void in his voice- was a sign that Eliot had been waiting for, or maybe a switch had just been flipped, or maybe this was all just the way shit went sometimes.
And the stutter in Alec's breathing? It fucking killed.
Eliot rolled over on his left knee, until he was more or less straddling him, squinting hard to see through the darkness, giving him no option but to listen. "Look, man. I know you aren't going to hear this right now, but that dude? He attacked you, right?"
"And if I knew what I was doing, I-"
"Yeah, and if I'd been there, you wouldn’t have had to," Eliot grumbled, wishing that it was true, suddenly aware that Alec might feel the weight of him, how little of it there was, how inconsequential he'd become. "But there's a hundred different ways that could've played out. You could be dead, already, or worse, still in the process of dying. You could've clipped him, he might have run, or he might've fought back harder. You did what you're supposed to do with a gun."
"What's that?" Alec asked, reluctantly, his arms shifting slightly under Eliot's hands, his breath held steady. Faking it until he could make it.
"Shoot to kill. You don't draw if you're not intending to use it. Ever. Got that?"
Another breath, then, "yeah."
"You still have the gun?"
Alec hesitated before answering, but he was staring at some point on Eliot's neck. "Box on the loading dock. Got others, though. All over the place."
"Okay. Good to know."
"Okay?" Alec snorted up at him, and Eliot wasn't sure how much of Alec's expression he was imagining. "Thought you hated the things."
"I do. But it kept you alive, so I'm willing to make concessions, alright? Just." He was starting to feel a little foolish, hanging over Alec like this. Presumptive, intrusive, arrogant. But Alec hadn't shoved him away, yet. "Maybe in the morning, I'll start showing you some stuff. Ain't up for much sparring, but we can start you on disarming techniques. Deal?"
Alec was looking at him straight on as he nodded, and for a moment, Eliot had to wonder if it was only because he thought Eliot couldn't see him in the near-total darkness. He was a little surprised when Alec's hand brushed up along his side and rested there, heavy weight, and suddenly it was his turn to miss a breath.
The last time they'd been like this, there had been streetlights reflecting off snow and the sound of airplanes landing at Logan coming in through the window. He'd been proving a point, and Alec had been laughing him off but not shoving him aside, yet, and neither of them had been thinking about what they'd had right then.
Eliot fucking missed it, but Alec's hand hadn't moved, and this was close as they'd come, maybe was as close as they'd get, and right then, there was no sound, no light. Nothing in the world but the two of them, only it didn't feel like an ending, anymore.
Experimentally, Eliot ran a hand up Alec's arm until it was resting over his collarbone, using it to steady himself as he leaned down. The pressure on his side increased, sliding around to his back and stubble rasped against his mouth in the moments before their lips met. They were kissing before he'd had time to process anything besides soft and teeth and a tension in his chest that loosened all at once, sparking out towards his skin.
When he brushed against Alec's temple, there was dampness there, but he pretended not to notice. Deepened the kiss in case Alec noticed him noticing.
He used to get annoyed when Alec tugged at his hair, but when his fingers caught this time, accidentally on purpose, he let himself be steered, pulled closer until he was nearly lying down, until the sweatshirt was far too warm, until he could feel the shifting of Alec's shoulder blades under his fingers.
Until he couldn't breathe anymore, and didn't really care, because he'd stolen all of Alec's breath first, leaving him just enough left to laugh quietly into Eliot's ear.
"Even without the tan, still looks better gone," Alec murmured into his neck, ridiculously. "The beard. Not your face, because that would just be unsettling."
Eliot meant to say something to the effect of not half as unsettling as you being gone, but there were kisses being pressed into the corner of his jaw, and then Alec was moving back, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him down.
Eliot crashed into him, sliding slightly to the side and manhandling him into a more comfortable position. He hadn't planned on going far, and from the looks of it, Alec wouldn't have let him.
It was only a vague blurred flash as he shifted his head, just before the curtain of hair obscured what little vision he had left, but he was nearly sure that Alec was grinning. Not quite the wide mouthed beam he got sometimes, but it was more than he'd been wearing, lately.
Fucking gorgeous, by comparison, even if Eliot wasn't sure he'd actually seen it.
---
Chapter 6
Rating: PG-13 for now
Spoilers: Up through end of season 2
Pairing: Alec Hardison/ Eliot Spencer
Warnings: None for *this* chapter...
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Story starts here.
After months of sleeping on roofs, parking garage floors, park benches and the ground itself, Eliot was a little surprised to wake up in a bed feeling so stiff, sore, and utterly unable to open his eyes. He rolled over to go back to sleep when a crinkling noise caught his attention. Paper, lying just under his elbow.
It took a few minutes to roll over enough to pick it up, another one to open his eyes to read it.
If I'm not downstairs, I'm up top and I'll be down in a bit. Coffee's in the thermos on the desk, clean mugs are on the shelf downstairs whenever you actually manage to wake your snoring ass up.
-Alec
p.s. I didn't draw anything on your face, though I was quite tempted. You sleep like the dead, man.
Eliot growled, more concerned that he hadn't woken up the moment Hardison moved than he was with anything he might have scrawled across his forehead, but it didn't stop him from checking his reflection in a dead computer screen before grabbing the coffee and heading downstairs.
Outside, through the window, the sun was making a weak attempt to come out over scads and handfuls of people walking east, probably out towards one of the ration points. Hurrying and annoyed and tired and stressed. Not a car in sight, millions of people dead, and rush hour still sucked.
He leaned against the counter and watched for a while, not really seeing much of anything, thinking vaguely about finding a mug for the coffee, but too tired to put any sort of plan into action.
It wasn't long before he heard a loud slamming up above, and Alec's footsteps coming along the hall and down the stairs, toolbox in hand.
"Hey, man," he grinned as he shoved the box onto a nearby cabinet. "You hungry? Didn't think you'd be up this early."
"Don't think I am," Eliot smirked, resisting the urge to yawn. "Even more tired than I was yesterday. Not really hungry, though." Alec nodded, rummaging around on the shelf to find two mugs and pouring the coffee. "What're you doing up there, anyway?"
"We've got a few months, but it's gonna start getting cold soon. Sunlight's gonna be at a bigger premium than it already is, so unless I want to freeze to death, I need about three hundred times the amount of power I'm currently getting, never mind the work that needs to be done on the generators for the school."
The coffee was surprisingly strong, but Eliot wasn't sure it wasn't just a case of not being used to it, any more. He couldn't even tell if it really tasted burnt or not. "The school?"
"Yeah. Parker's over there, along with about sixty others. Lot of kids, some with families, some without. The usual."
"Seriously?" Eliot rolled his neck, wincing as the stiffness failed to fade. "Would've thought she'd be gone. What's she doing there?"
"Lookin' after them. Making sure they actually get the supplies they need. Doing their shopping, man, what do you think?" Hardison scowled in faint irritation, and it didn't take too long to figure out what he'd said wrong.
"Right. Sorry, man. Just. Tired. Things ain't looking the way I thought they would."
"Right on," Hardison shrugged, broke into a grin. "Hell, things ain't lookin' the way anyone thought they would. Like you."
"What d'you mean?"
"That beard? And the bags under your eyes? You look done in."
"Whatever, man. You don't look quite right yourself." And it was true, though for the most part, Alec looked good. His hair was a bit longer, but he'd managed to get it trimmed sometime recently. His clothes were in relatively pristine repair, though the jeans seemed a bit baggier. For the most part, he looked like he'd just had an overly long weekend, rather than living through the end of the world.
It was just the eyes, really, that had changed. If Alec were somebody else, and Eliot were anybody else, he'd ask about it. Find out if it happened months ago, or just last night, when Eliot was too late to help.
"I'm fine," Eliot rubbed a hand over his face. "Just haven't woken up yet. When're we gonna see Parker?"
"Dude, seriously?" He rolled his eyes. "She probably went to bed an hour ago, maybe two. You've got time to crash for a few more hours."
Eliot didn't want to think about the fact that Hardison knew Parker so well, that they'd had months' worth of inside knowledge that he'd missed out on. And the fact that he was essentially being told to go to bed like a good little boy wasn't sitting right, either.
He was just irritated enough to stagger back up the stairs, but he wasn't ready for Alec to follow him five or ten minutes later, when he was still trying to find something that resembled a comfortable position.
"Here," Alec handed him a bottle of water and knelt by the side of the bed, rummaging around a nearby drawer for some pills. "Ibuprofen, if it helps. I'm gonna open up shop in a bit, here. Come down whenever you want."
"You tuckin' me in, now?" Eliot downed some water, ignored the pills, and lay back down.
"Nah, man. Just making sure I don't have to babysit your exhausted ass because you can't even walk in a straight line," Hardison smirked, tugging the blanket up over Eliot's shoulder. "But I've got time to read you a bedtime story, if you like."
"Fuck off."
"Warm powdered milk? Only three times more disgusting than the real thing?"
"Fuck off."
"Need a teddy bear?"
"Hardison, Eliot growled. "I'm fine."
"If you're sure. Don't let the bedbugs bite. And don't think about that, either. You don't even want to know where I had to drag this mattress up from." Alec easily evaded Eliot's swatting arm, backing out of reach before rising.
Eliot watched him go, and wondered if he was supposed to have done something differently, right then. Considered getting up again, but he was too tired. And he'd finally gotten comfortable. The rest could wait.
---
Eliot had looked like hammered dog shit, his eyes more closed than open, and it had been a relief. It meant that he hadn't asked any questions Alec didn't know the answers to, and he could put off trying to even think about them until later. In the meantime, he had a post office to run.
Mica showed up a few minutes early, leaning against the dead stamp machine and watching Alec sorting the contents of the drop box and picking out the few letters from the postage. One can of chili, a roll of toothpaste, and a surprising amount of baby stuff, clothes and bottles and even a tin of formula that hadn't gone off yet, more stuff than was needed to cover the shipping. Word had gotten out that Lisa Culverson, over at Parker's school, was nearly due. He wondered if the messages they'd sent out would bring a doctor to deliver the baby in time. He doubted it.
Somebody had paid in the shrimp ramen that Janice liked, so he left it on the counter, ready to go out with her delivery. By the time the last of the outgoing mail was bundled and ready to go, Janice still hadn't shown to collect her route, but Tre was there, watching Alec even more curiously than Mica had been doing.
"Everything cool?" he asked, eyes darting towards the back room and the mess that still hadn't been cleaned.
"Yeah. Nothin' else happened last night."
Tre nodded, glancing at Mica, who thankfully only asked, "Alec, man, who was that guy? Elroy. What's his deal?"
"Eliot? Friend of mine from back in the day. He's crashed out upstairs." Still lying in the bed. In my bed. Right now, he's here. Right upstairs. Alive and in my bed and soon he'll be waking up.
"Good people?"
"Yeah." Alec turned to hide his grin, opening the safe where their payment was stored, shoving the night's take on the top shelf before stepping aside so they could grab their cut. "Any idea where Janice is?"
Mica hesitated again, and for a moment Alec was positive he was about to bring up last night, but apparently he was trying to guess where Janice was hiding out this time. "Not a clue. Need one of us to take her route?"
Alec scratched his chin as he glanced at the route maps. Janice's drop-off was the launch point for everything going out west. If the mail didn't go through Boylston, it would have to go through Dallas just to get to Chicago. "Yeah, probably. Wish she'd just stay somewhere where we could track her, you know?"
"Yeah. That's her, though. She'd been livin' on the streets for so long, having her pick of apartments is still goin' to her head, you know?"
"Yeah. Alright. Boylston Street. Either of you got the time, you go ahead and take her cut, too. She shows up, I'll talk to her. "
Mica looked wary, but Tre was smirking. "I got this, Mica's got to make himself pretty for Maria tonight."
"Maria, huh?" Alec tried to attach a face to the name he'd heard so much about, and failed. "You finally talked her into it?"
"We're just hangin', yo. Ease up," he said, grabbing his food and a roll of dental floss from the safe, sequestering them in his pack before heading towards the door.
"Just hanging my left nut," Tre called out as he followed Mica out the front door.
As he was locking up the safe, Alec didn't know that it was the last thing he'd hear Tre say. He'd barely registered that he'd heard it at all, because he had to sort through all the local mail before anyone came in looking for it. And there was cooking to sort out, at some point, and bloodstains to be cleaned.
---
The mess in back- because calling it a mess was easier than calling it a murder scene, even if Alec knew better- took ages to clean. It didn't help that he hesitated before each stroke of the scrub brush.
He'd just wanted the guy to back off. The Guy. He'd never wanted to wipe him out of existence.
But he worked until all that remained was a damp looking smear on the concrete, a stain on the wall that might need another scrubbing, and a pile of dirty garbage shoved in the corner.
Should've grabbed the damned trashcan, he thought, dropping the scrub brush into the bucket and rocking back on his heels to survey the scene. Maybe he'd clean the rest of this out, one of these days. For having the huge loading dock door right there, it retained heat like nobody's business. Seal the door up, it might be worth moving down here when winter came.
The Guy would probably have another few bodies stacked on top of him by the time the snow came. And he'd have moldered a bit already too, sunk into the ground a bit. Mixed with the neighbors and frozen into a solid mass of-
It could've fucking well been you.
He grunted as he rose from his knees and caught sight of Parker sitting on a crate, ten feet behind him.
"That blood yours?" she asked, only sounding mildly curious.
"Uh. No." Alec took a breath and watched her, carefully, as he made his admission. "Guy tried to kill me last night. Got him first."
"Good," she replied, hopping down, like he'd said it's not going to rain today, or there's coffee in the thermos. "Looks like we might have a problem."
How is that not a problem?, he wondered, following her into the front, pausing at the foot of the stairs. "Uh, Parker. Got a second before we get into that? Need to show you something."
She didn't reply, just examined him quizzically as he waved her up the stairs.
---
Eliot woke on impact, his hands coming up to block even before his eyes were open.
All he saw at first was a mess of short blonde hair, and Alec smirking in the doorway. Then the hair moved, back and up, and Parker's face was beaming down at him.
"…so good to see you," she was saying, lunging forward to wrap her arms awkwardly around him again. "Missed you, I hope that's okay." The short hair was a change, but there were a lot of things that were different, and this one-
Fuck, she was really here.
There wasn't much air in his lungs, but he managed a laugh, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing tight. "You too, Parker. Holy shit." He struggled for a minute to sit up as Parker backed off and stood up awkwardly.
"Nice beard."
"Fuck. I mean, Hardison said, but. Damn, girl!" He grabbed her again and laughed, glancing at Hardison over her shoulder. "And he also said you weren't gonna be around until tonight."
"Huh? Parker stepped back, scowling in puzzlement. "It is evening, Eliot."
"Yeah, man. You've been out cold all day."
"Seriously?" Eliot glanced out the window and groaned. The sky was about the same shade it had been when he'd fallen asleep, but there was no doubt that only a few moments had passed. "Sorry about that."
"No problem. You're up in time for dinner, anyway. Which is my cue to go down and get it together. Any requests?"
"Got anything that isn't oatmeal?"
"Chili, spaghetti, or mac and cheese with whatever vegetables I grab at random. Parker, you staying?"
"Do you have enough?"
"Yeah, we're good," Alec said, ducking his head back into the room. "Remind me, there's more stuff for Lisa in the safe, you should grab it when you get the chance."
--
"So catch me up, how the hell are you? What's goin' on?" Eliot stretched and decided that maybe some painkillers weren't the worst idea in the world.
"What's Hardison told you?" Parker sat down on the chair, crossing her legs and leaning forward.
"Not much. Looks like he nearly got killed last night, but took the bastard out."
"He was just finishing cleaning up when I got here," she said. "Do you think he's okay?"
Eliot gave it some thought. "I don't know. Haven't talked to him much. Think he will be, though."
Parker nodded slowly. "Yeah. It's sick, but I've kind of been waiting for something like this for a while now. People've been weird since the world ended." She bit her lip and glanced to the side. "I've had to kill a few people myself. I didn't tell him, though."
"Why not?"
"He's Hardison."
"Yeah."
"What about you?" At Eliot's questioning look, she elaborated. "Where've you been? You been okay? Talk to anyone? Had to kill anyone?"
"Came up from South America. Few fights on the way that never went as far as killing, but one was a close thing. Um. Got a letter from Sophie when I came into town."
"Really? She's okay?"
"Last I heard, it's a few months old, though it said Nate was fine, too."
"Good," Parker sighed, happily, and it wasn't until then that he realized exactly how worried she'd seemed. "Wait a minute. How'd she get the letter to you?"
"Not sure. She managed to have the guards looking out for me, and they just handed it over when I got here. Thought it was orders from up the chain at first, and the guards did too, so I didn't ask them about it."
"Why would you be getting orders?"
"Shit's gone to hell, they're looking for all the help they can get. I'm guessing could be on a list somewhere or something. People getting called back in."
"But you don't have orders?"
"No, I have Sophie's orders."
"And what were they?"
"To find you guys," Eliot said. "Letter's in the side pocket of that bag, if you want to take a look at it."
Parker slid the pack closer and undid the zipper silently, finding the creased paper and running her eyes over it. Eliot stopped watching when it looked like she was about to start crying.
---
There was movement upstairs, and soon Parker and Eliot would be coming down. Alec could hear her telling him about the night the church on Arlington Street burned down, and how she'd accidentally wound up with seven children, three teenagers, and one and a half married couples following her back to the hideaway she'd made for herself in the attic of the nearby high school.
"…and after that, it just sort of started growing from there. There's about sixty people living there now. The adults take shifts working security, and we've found enough stuff to get the kids back into the classrooms, but it's weird. Not like how school was when I was a kid at all. And there's nobody teaching chemistry, but nobody seems to mind."
"Can't say I blame them," Eliot said as they wandered into the break room, just as Alec was pulling the chili off the hotplate. "Hey, man, you need help with any of that?"
"Nah, I got it." Parker went to the drawer to find some silverware, and a few minutes later, they were sitting down around one of the empty tables. There were plenty to choose from. "You awake yet, Eliot?"
"I think so. Yeah?" Eliot yawned, regarding his chili blearily for a moment before starting to eat.
"So what's it like out there?" Alec asked, after a few minutes, needing to distract himself from the blandness of the food. He'd done what he could with it, but the spice rack was running dangerously low. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Parker completely ignoring her food in favor of staring at Eliot.
Eliot shrugged, swallowing before speaking. "Ain't all that different from here, but everyone's moving. Everything's fucked, all the way down to Florida. The Midwest is totally screwed, apparently there was enough radiation getting through that the crops aren't gonna recover anytime soon. Pretty much stuck to the coastal states on the way up. Don't know anything about, like, California or anything. Nobody's really figured anything out yet. There's nowhere to go, but people are going anyway, you know?"
"Yeah," Alec said, unsure why the prognosis, which he'd guessed at already, was so damned depressing.
"So anyway. What's the deal with this Cornelius dude?"
---
Eliot wasn't ready for the dark look that crossed both Parker and Alec's faces. It took a few moments for Alec to start.
"Bad news, man. Got a stranglehold on the supply chain. Set up shop out in the harbor, has a huge crew, they're blocking relief agencies from getting in. You can still get stuff from him, but the markup is insane. He's been taking advantage of people, getting them so into debt that they're stuck with him as unwilling allies. He and his crew run around collecting debts. They've raped some people, beat up others, and he's got us locked in on the East and West sides."
"We've been making deals with some of the gangs, trying to get them organized, but it's like herding three legged cats," Parker explained. "And it's getting worse," she glanced over at Hardison. "What I was coming over to tell you. Have you heard the radio lately?"
"Not today, no."
"Some people were talking. Apparently the relief agencies are getting so fed up with people like Cornelius that they're talking about pulling out to reassess their delivery models. Could get ugly real quick."
"Uglier, you mean," Eliot grumbled. "You guys made any deals with him yet?"
"Haven't had to," Alec answered, the yet hanging heavily in the air. "Been able to hold out so far 'cause of the deal we've got set up here. People want to get stuff mailed, they have to contribute. It's enough to feed us and the runners, with extra for the school, but people are running out of things to trade. Don't know how long it's going to last."
"This could be good, then," Eliot said. "I mean, yeah, it's gonna get tight, but if Cornelius doesn’t have resources anymore…"
"Then he's just going to come in and try to get them from us," Parker said. "Start collecting on his debts worse than before."
"Yeah. Guess so," Eliot admitted, stirring at his chili, his head miles away. "Sophie said you were gonna make a move on him?"
"Planning on it, but don't know how, not really. Hoping to get enough people on side to deal with him head on, but it's been ages, and people are hungry and scared. And even if we knock him out, someone else could easily step in."
"Sophie said she's getting Nate out and heading here. Don't know when or if she's going to be able to put it off," Eliot started, but Alec was pulling a grim face.
"Yeah, but how long can we sit and wait for them?"
"I know, it's just. I'm thinkin' out loud, here. Okay. So. We need to get him and his people out without creating a power vacuum. They're armed?"
"To the teeth." Parker confirmed as Alec nodded. "All of them."
"Okay. So they're better armed and there are a lot of them. They've got the harbor and the west side."
"Closing in on the south, too," Alec said. "Least that's what I hear. Intel's scarce, man. We're runnin' blind up in here."
"Okay. So if they get the north side, Boston's boxed in, and there's no stoppin' them. Right." Eliot ran his hands over his face in frustration, scratching at his beard. "Right. Well. I got nothin', man. Give me a bit, I'll come up with something'."
---
Alec was sliding the window shut behind Parker when he saw Mica hurrying down the block, looking agitated. And unless the kid was a hell of a lot less smooth than he usually made out to be, it wasn't just the date he was worried about. Alec was opening the front door before Mica had a chance to go for his key.
"Alec, man. It's bad. Tre's dead. Got shot workin' Janice's route. Looks like she went down yesterday. You know Jimmy?"
"He's Kings, right? They pressin' the border?"
Mica shrugged. "They ain't had any problem with anyone on those blocks, more'n usual. Just the mail, or something. King's are mountin' up, it's gonna get ugly real fast." Mica shook his head, dropping the bag on the floor. "Janice didn't have family, right?"
"Not that she ever said."
"Right," Mica nodded, rolling his neck and sighing. "Look, man. I gotta go tell Tre's Mama."
Alec was getting damned tired of this shit, this entire fucking life. "Want me to do it, you got that girl-"
"Maria can wait," Mica rolled his eyes. There was a story there, but it wasn't the one they needed to talk about. "I've known Tre's mama since forever, she should hear it from me, y'know?"
"Yeah," Alec sighed. "Hey, look. Tell her I'm really sorry, and Tre's deal still stands. We can call it a pension, or something."
"Right on," Mica's smirk was nearly a sneer, for all the humor that was lacking, so Hardison made the same deal. "And same for you, if you want to retire. You want out, it's cool. Figure you've just made partner, at this point."
Mica snorted, shaking his head. "Nah, man. Ain't like that. I'm not some charity case. I'll be back tomorrow-"
"No you ain't. Mail can wait a few days. I got to think about some shit, sort out a new plan, alright?" It was a pathetic offering, but it was all he had, really. Mica nodded, and Alec pretended not to notice that he had his gun drawn even before stepping outside.
---
It took forever to hack through the beard with the scissors in order to get it short enough to shave, but finally, it was done. The result wasn't much of anything to write home about. The newly revealed skin was pale, standing out in stark contrast to the deep tan of his face, thinner than he remembered it being.
Then again, he thought, glancing down at his shadow-lined ribs, it's not exactly something to be surprised by, now, is it? He'd already gone down four waist sizes, a long time ago. He looked fucking ill, like he'd died on the road and his body hadn't gotten the message yet, and the illusion would've been more easily dissipated if the process of shaving hadn't wiped him the hell out.
And now he was supposed to come up with a plan to take out Cornelius. Because Alec, apparently, couldn't hack it.
Couldn't hack it. Maybe that was the problem.
And shit, from what it sounded like, this wasn't just one bad guy taking advantage. It was as close to the opening volley of a war as Alec had ever been, maybe Parker, too. It was no wonder they were spinning their wheels. This was Eliot's game. He could do this. He'd done it before. Started it, ended it, whatever needed doing, he'd done.
He'd never done it feeling this damned tired, though. Never this close to home.
And he'd never pull it off, either. Not if he kept staring himself down in the mirror trying to guess how much life he had left in him.
---
He was ready for Hardison's teasing when he made it back downstairs, but found only rigid shoulders, crossed arms, and eyes looking out the windows, seeing nothing. He was fucking still.
"Hardison?" Eliot stepped back when Alec started. "Hey, sorry, man, what-" He fell silent when he realized that there was nothing at all in Alec's eyes. No humor, no sadness, no anger. Nothing that Eliot could even hope to read. "Alec?"
"We lost two more today. Good people."
"What happened?"
"Cornelius, it looks like. Took out Tre and Janice."
"Janice?"
"Another mail runner. She was," Alec shrugged. "Doesn't matter," and he turned his attention to the pack lying on the floor.
"She was what?"
"Just this chick. Been homeless for a year before it all went down. She was a little off, like, quiet, didn't trust people, not ever. Not even me, probably. Moved around a lot, didn't even know until today."
"When did it happen?"
"Yesterday. I should have known yesterday."
"Why?"
"I sent Tre out to cover her route. Same thing happened-" Alec's jaw clenched shut angrily, and he glanced sidelong at Eliot. "I've killed three people in two days. What's your record?"
If you really wanted to know that, you'd have looked it up by now, Eliot thought about answering, but that wasn't what this was about anyway. "A lot more than that, man."
"Does it get easier?"
"Yeah," Eliot said, at length. He wouldn't be doing Alec any favors, lying to him. Giving him platitudes about wanting it to be hard, to kill a person, about how it makes you human, but maybe they didn't live in that world any more. "Yeah it does."
---
"Gotta get you some fake tanning lotion or something for your face. There's a big stripe across it," Alec mumbled into his shoulder, once the lights were out.
"Yeah," Eliot grimaced at the ceiling and shifted, his movement making Alec resettle against him. This, then, was what they were doing. Talking around things. Trying to make jokes. "I noticed. Think the drug store is still open?"
"It's probably all that's left, man."
"I'm sure I could pick up a few bottles of nail polish." Eliot couldn't imagine that there'd been too many people looking for manicures, lately.
"Nah, that stuff's better than ink. Doesn't run when it gets wet," Alec replied, reminding him of all the signs he'd seen coming in to town Bible passages and signs offering work in trade for supplies. Have you seen Rebecca, and The world hasn't finished ending, yet. "But if you want, we can go find you a curling iron or something in the morning."
"Okay," Eliot didn't feel up to laughing, but it needed some sort of acknowledgement.
"I need you to show me how to do what you do."
"What d'you mean?"
"Disarming people. Not letting people get killed."
"Okay. It's a lot of practice, and-"
"Don't worry, my expectations, at this point, are pretty low." He rolled onto his back. "But this sucks ass."
"Nothing you could have done about Janice and Tre."
"Yeah, but. It's gotta be karma, right? Like, what was Nate talking about? Chess. I take a pawn, they take out my bishop and knight."
That, maybe- the fucking void in his voice- was a sign that Eliot had been waiting for, or maybe a switch had just been flipped, or maybe this was all just the way shit went sometimes.
And the stutter in Alec's breathing? It fucking killed.
Eliot rolled over on his left knee, until he was more or less straddling him, squinting hard to see through the darkness, giving him no option but to listen. "Look, man. I know you aren't going to hear this right now, but that dude? He attacked you, right?"
"And if I knew what I was doing, I-"
"Yeah, and if I'd been there, you wouldn’t have had to," Eliot grumbled, wishing that it was true, suddenly aware that Alec might feel the weight of him, how little of it there was, how inconsequential he'd become. "But there's a hundred different ways that could've played out. You could be dead, already, or worse, still in the process of dying. You could've clipped him, he might have run, or he might've fought back harder. You did what you're supposed to do with a gun."
"What's that?" Alec asked, reluctantly, his arms shifting slightly under Eliot's hands, his breath held steady. Faking it until he could make it.
"Shoot to kill. You don't draw if you're not intending to use it. Ever. Got that?"
Another breath, then, "yeah."
"You still have the gun?"
Alec hesitated before answering, but he was staring at some point on Eliot's neck. "Box on the loading dock. Got others, though. All over the place."
"Okay. Good to know."
"Okay?" Alec snorted up at him, and Eliot wasn't sure how much of Alec's expression he was imagining. "Thought you hated the things."
"I do. But it kept you alive, so I'm willing to make concessions, alright? Just." He was starting to feel a little foolish, hanging over Alec like this. Presumptive, intrusive, arrogant. But Alec hadn't shoved him away, yet. "Maybe in the morning, I'll start showing you some stuff. Ain't up for much sparring, but we can start you on disarming techniques. Deal?"
Alec was looking at him straight on as he nodded, and for a moment, Eliot had to wonder if it was only because he thought Eliot couldn't see him in the near-total darkness. He was a little surprised when Alec's hand brushed up along his side and rested there, heavy weight, and suddenly it was his turn to miss a breath.
The last time they'd been like this, there had been streetlights reflecting off snow and the sound of airplanes landing at Logan coming in through the window. He'd been proving a point, and Alec had been laughing him off but not shoving him aside, yet, and neither of them had been thinking about what they'd had right then.
Eliot fucking missed it, but Alec's hand hadn't moved, and this was close as they'd come, maybe was as close as they'd get, and right then, there was no sound, no light. Nothing in the world but the two of them, only it didn't feel like an ending, anymore.
Experimentally, Eliot ran a hand up Alec's arm until it was resting over his collarbone, using it to steady himself as he leaned down. The pressure on his side increased, sliding around to his back and stubble rasped against his mouth in the moments before their lips met. They were kissing before he'd had time to process anything besides soft and teeth and a tension in his chest that loosened all at once, sparking out towards his skin.
When he brushed against Alec's temple, there was dampness there, but he pretended not to notice. Deepened the kiss in case Alec noticed him noticing.
He used to get annoyed when Alec tugged at his hair, but when his fingers caught this time, accidentally on purpose, he let himself be steered, pulled closer until he was nearly lying down, until the sweatshirt was far too warm, until he could feel the shifting of Alec's shoulder blades under his fingers.
Until he couldn't breathe anymore, and didn't really care, because he'd stolen all of Alec's breath first, leaving him just enough left to laugh quietly into Eliot's ear.
"Even without the tan, still looks better gone," Alec murmured into his neck, ridiculously. "The beard. Not your face, because that would just be unsettling."
Eliot meant to say something to the effect of not half as unsettling as you being gone, but there were kisses being pressed into the corner of his jaw, and then Alec was moving back, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him down.
Eliot crashed into him, sliding slightly to the side and manhandling him into a more comfortable position. He hadn't planned on going far, and from the looks of it, Alec wouldn't have let him.
It was only a vague blurred flash as he shifted his head, just before the curtain of hair obscured what little vision he had left, but he was nearly sure that Alec was grinning. Not quite the wide mouthed beam he got sometimes, but it was more than he'd been wearing, lately.
Fucking gorgeous, by comparison, even if Eliot wasn't sure he'd actually seen it.
---
Chapter 6