Thursday's Child (Leverage Alec/Eliot)
Title:Thursday's Child
Author: jendavis
Fandom/ Pairing: Leverage Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take too seriously.
Summary: Written for hc_bingo prompt "de-age (mental)."
A/N: Woo! It's the last one written for my blackout! *collapses*
So far, everything had been going to plan, as screwed as the plan was. Eliot was helping Parker rifle through Dr. Towhill's tax records in the front office, Nate and Sophie were on the line, gathering intel for part two of the con, and Hardison?
Hardison was in the back office, being psychoanalyzed by their mark.
Eliot didn't like it, and nobody had been thrilled at the notion, but they'd known from the start that they'd need to work Towhill from all angles. They needed someone on the inside, and between Nate and Sophie posing as psychiatrists, and the unspoken agreement that Parker shouldn't be let within a mile of anyone capable of messing with her head, Hardison had volunteered.
"I got this," he'd insisted, when Eliot had argued.
"Thought you hated people messing with your head."
"They don't usually get into any of the hypnosis stuff until your third or fourth session," Parker had interjected, earning wary glances from everyone gathered.
"Not without my permission," he looked pointedly at Nate. "I know what I'm signing up for, and besides, if we wind up needing to work the cult angle later, that's all you. Aliens, though? I'm down."
And Eliot got that, even if it did seem risky. He did.
It didn't mean he liked throwing Hardison in there with a woman who'd hypnotized an entire support group into believing they'd been kidnapped by aliens. Or that, despite all the evidence to the contrary, most of her Thursday night patients knew that as children, they'd witnessed- or helped- with ritual sacrifices. Usually on a black altar, out in the woods, and always overseen by a leader who looked like Charles Manson. Upside down crosses, pentagrams, bizarre looking knives, the works.
Of all the fucked things.
Chill out.
From what Eliot could hear through the door, Hardison was doing fine. By this time next week, Doctor Towhill would be on the streets, if not the loony bin herself.
It was going just smoothly enough that Eliot's warning bells should've been going off, but it was the loud klaxon of an alarm shrieking through the building that he was suddenly hearing instead.
"Damn it," Parker growled, shoving the last of the files in her bag. "I don't get it, they're just filing cabinets, there's no security-"
Through the door, Eliot could hear Doctor Towhill sputtering, hurriedly waking Hardison and telling him that they needed to leave.
"Ah, yeah. Guys," Nate came on comms. "The system's already alerted the fire department. First responders should be here within minutes, so I'm pulling the plug on this one. Eliot, Parker, get out of there. Hardison?"
"I'm fine" Hardison said, addressing Dr. Towhill, and for an instant, Eliot thought he was responding to Nate. It wasn't until a moment later that Sophie reminded everyone that he'd taken his comms out. Right. Privacy. Whatever.
"It's cool," he was saying, now. He sounded worried, but then again, most people seemed worried when the building they were in was on fire.
Eliot followed Parker out into the hallway, joining the throng of traffic heading for the stairs. With all the noise, it was hard to make out much of anything, but they weren't so far ahead that he couldn't still hear Hardison and Towhill talking not ten feet behind them.
"No, that's fine, I'm sure it doesn't happen all the time."
"I'm sure this is nothing, it will be just a short delay," Towhill was saying. "I'm obviously not going to bill you for standing outside, so if you'd like, we can continue this…"
"I have to be at work in an hour," Hardison lied. "But you said you can fit me in on Monday morning?"
Eliot reached the ground floor, then, and their voices were lost in the crowd. By the time they made their way out of the building to reconvene by the van, the news had spread that someone had burned their toast in the break room on the second floor.
"Seriously?" Eliot muttered, letting Parker into the van first.
"It's fine," Nate insisted as Hardison caught up, climbed in after Eliot. "We got what we needed."
---
It wasn't fine at all, but nobody knew it, yet.
---
Hardison was unusually quiet on the way back, but with Sophie and Nate debating the ethics of neuro-linguistic programming, hypnosis, and Gaslight Syndrome, Eliot nearly missed it.
Flipping through the stolen files- each more bizarre than the last- as they wound their way through rush-hour traffic, Eliot shook his head and smirked, holding the file up for Hardison to see. "You know Eric Krosniki thinks his parents made him help sacrifice a goat when he was five years old?"
Expecting loud, sputtering disbelief, he was puzzled to get no response. When he turned to look, Hardison was staring at him, worried and nervous, and he flinched at Parker's barking laugh.
Eventually, they pulled into the lot behind Nate's building and filtered up to his apartment. Parker made a beeline for the cupboard and pulled out her cereal while Sophie put a pot of coffee on.
"Here," Nate said, tossing Hardison the thumb drive that Parker had given him. "Get these loaded up. Let's see what we're looking at."
"Yes, Mister Ford." Hardison sat down, his backpack on his lap. He took his laptop out, but the usual sprawl of external devices and cords didn't follow. Turning it on and tapping a few keys, he pulled up the files, unaware of the confused glances being exchanged around him.
Nate frowned, but went to turn on the wall screen, and after a moment, the complete directory of Towhill's financials and working files was up for everyone to see.
With all the insanity contained within each patient's workup, Eliot forgot about Hardison for a while.
---
"So essentially, Towhill is making a killing convincing people of all sorts of whacked out stuff, to the tune of two hundred dollars a session, and she's good enough at it that most of her clients have been coming back, once or twice a month, for years in some cases."
Sophie shook her head, throwing herself dramatically onto the couch and glaring at the screen. "It's more than once or twice if they're in one of her support groups."
"So, not only is she going in and warping their memories through hypnosis," Nate summarized. "She's shoving them in a room with each other to reinforce their beliefs. What we need to know is, ah. Does she know that's what she's doing, or does she actually believe that she's helping?"
"Why?" Eliot shook his head. It seemed like a waste of time. "Either way, it amounts to the same thing."
"Except for how we handle her. If she knows she's pulling a scam, it's going to be very easy to take her down. If she believes it, though, then we're going to have a much harder time getting her to stop."
"It's going to be hard enough, trying to undo a decade's worth of mind games in ten days," Parker pointed out. "I mean, normally, they try and drag you in for session after session after session, until you wise up and climb over the wall during arts and crafts."
Sophie and Nate exchanged glances, silently electing to ignore the comment. "We don't have to undo it all the way, just plant the suggestions in their heads, same way she's been doing. We just have to get enough of a start that her patients sue her into the ground." Sophie glanced at Nate, who nodded in agreement.
"Now, Sophie and I already have an in with Towhill, enough that she's letting us take over her support groups next week, in order for us to talk to her patients for the study we're working on. While we're in there, we'll have an easy enough time planting the doubt in their minds, but the most important thing is that we don't have Towhill wandering in to botch it all up. Parker, Eliot? You're going to be tailing her to make sure that doesn't happen."
"So, what. You're just going to waltz in and tell her patients that she's been lying to them?"
"No. I'm going to get them to decide that she's been lying to them."
"How?"
"The power of suggestion. Same damned thing Towhill uses in her hypnotherapy sessions. They're going to figure it out for themselves in the days after the session, and by that point, they'll already be getting calls from our client, Dr. Ramirez, who's already chomping at the bit to have his colleagues at the hospital take their cases from there."
"And you know for sure that Ramirez is on the up and up? I mean, I know he's our client, and everything, but…" He caught Hardison's eyes darting away from him and his jaw tightening, just a bit.
Nate shook his head. "They're clean. We've already got the documentation showing that while the board agrees with his concerns, they can't move on them unless her patients are the ones to file a complaint. That's why we've got Hardison going in, just to make sure that one of them will." Nate glanced at Hardison, no doubt waiting for some sort of response, but he was still perched ramrod straight on his chair, saying nothing.
"I believe in aliens," Parker said, fiddling with one of her lock picks. "What's wrong with that?"
"Every single patient of hers is suffering from anxiety, paranoia and depression. Several of them are also dealing with night terrors and delusions that they didn't report when they were going in. They're getting worse, not better"
---
They discussed and planned until there was nothing left to talk about, until they were left sitting there trying to ignore the elephant in the room hovering over Hardison's shoulder.
"So. What happened back there?" Nate asked, earning a warning glance from Sophie. "Hardison?"
"I. I don't know, Mr.- Nate," was his response, and it was nearly enough to tell the whole story.
"You were in there, talking with her…"
"Not on comms," Eliot prompted, because yeah, he'd seen the point- he wouldn't have wanted the team listening in on something like that, even if it was for a job- but it was clearly coming around to bite them in the ass.
Hardison, for his part, looked like he was ready to bolt.
"Nothing happened. We just talked. I told her I wasn't sleeping well and couldn't concentrate at work, and threw in that bit about having nightmares all my life." Hardison was talking to the floor, more than anything, his voice quiet. The words weren't stumbling out rapid-fire like they usually did. "Uh, told her a bit about growing up, and the fire alarms went off, and we were done. Didn't get much out of her, though, but I think if I'd had more time-"
"It's fine," Nate said. "We only needed to convince her that you were a viable patient."
"I've got an appointment to see her on Monday."
"Good. Then it worked. That part at least."
"Yeah, but-" Eliot cut himself off, not wanting to be the one to point out that he could see, plain as anyone, the way Hardison tensed up whenever he looked in Eliot's direction, or the way he avoided it when he could.
---
Going down the stairs from Nate's, Hardison flinched, dodging away when he felt Eliot's hand at the small of his back.
"Sorry, man. Just. Weird head space, is all."
"Yeah."
---
Normally, Alec wandered in like he owned the place and headed straight for the kitchen, and then usually started complaining that Eliot didn't keep any real food at his place. Now, though, he hesitated on the front steps, and had to be reminded that he had a key.
"Yeah, man. Sorry. I forgot."
Eliot opened the door and dumped tossed his coat over the hook. "You hungry? What do you want to eat?"
"Whatever you want."
"Hardison, come on."
Alec sighed, realizing he was doing it again. "Right. Ah. Spaghetti?" He took of his coat and moved back to hang it on the hook, which he'd never done before. Eliot heard him snort, though, and turned to catch him throwing it onto the arm of the couch instead.
Normally, Eliot would have badgered him into putting it away, but tonight, he grinned. It was the most normal thing Alec had done all day.
"Sounds good."
---
He watched Eliot prepare dinner with more interest than usual, like he couldn't believe that he was seeing him cook.
Eliot managed about five minutes- just long enough to get the salad made- before breaking under the scrutiny.
"I keep wanting to ask you stuff, and. I know that ain't how we do."
"What do you mean?"
"Like, where you're from, what you're doing here. If you really did half the things the other kids are saying you did. And when, apparently, you decided that vegetables wouldn't kill you. It's like. I'm seeing you, and I recognize you, but I keep thinking you're someone else entirely."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. And earlier, when we were going up to Nate's? I was going to ask you about him and Sophie. If they were cool."
"Why, did something go down?"
"No. Not like that. Just, if they were good people, what you thought of them." Alec sighed, scratching his arm. "The usual." Glancing up at Eliot, he grimaced. "Like when you go into a new system house. You gotta get the details, survey the surroundings, you know?"
"So let me get this straight. You think Nate and Sophie are what, exactly?"
"Foster parents. I don't know why. And yes, it's more than slightly humiliating. For the record."
Leaning back in his chair, Eliot didn't want to ask. "What happened in there?"
"The home?"
"The shrink's office."
"I don't know. Like I said, we talked, she asked a bunch of questions, and when I woke up-"
Eliot felt the chair legs contact the floor again, hard. "Hang on. Woke up?"
"Yeah," Alec scowled his confusion, realization spreading over his face. "Shit."
"Only reason you'd be doing that is because she put you under," Eliot confirmed. "You seriously don't remember that?"
"No. Well. Kinda? I was really tired."
"Dammit, Hardison."
Alec froze, and Eliot forced himself to take a breath before looking at him again. "Sorry." Nodding, Alec toyed with his food, no longer all interested in actually eating it, and Eliot was at a loss. "Look, man. We should call Nate, see what he thinks we ought to do."
Alec didn't actually answer until Eliot prompted him. "You think we can leave it until morning? See if it goes away first? I don't wanna-"
"What?"
"Irritate him."
Eliot had no idea if this was the sort of thing that would go away on its own, but then again. If he'd been in Alec's shoes, he wouldn't want it broadcast for everyone to see, either. And whatever was going on in Alec's head didn't seem pretty.
"Sure," he answered, carefully keeping the reluctance from his voice. "Yeah. Okay."
---
After dinner, Alec cleared the table and started washing the dishes. It was the most animated Eliot had seen him all evening, which wasn't saying much. It was mostly disturbing, truth be told, but it meant there were ten minutes where Eliot didn't have to pick apart every word he said, didn't have to acknowledge the insistent worry in the back of his head.
When Eliot came back from taking out the garbage and grabbing the mail, he found Alec standing in the kitchen, his back stiff, holding shards of broken glass in his hand.
If this entire afternoon hadn't been so screwed up, Eliot wouldn't have immediately thought the worst, wouldn't have been convinced that Alec was trying to slit his wrists. As it was, though, he strode across the kitchen, glancing at the floor, looking for blood. He found none.
But Alec looked terrified. And it wasn't because of the glass, it was because Eliot had come dangerously close to grabbing his wrists.
"What happened?" Eliot said, trying to keep his voice calm.
Alec back-stepped. "Look, if you can drive us out to the store, I've got some cash, I can replace it, nobody has to know. It was an accident. My hands were all soapy and I tried to catch it, but it hit the edge of the sink."
"Oh." Eliot sighed, grabbing a grocery bag from the cabinet to throw the shards into. "Happens. It's cool. Throw them in here."
Alec did as he was told, but backed away again the moment his hands were empty.
Eliot wasn't expecting it, and he didn't want to know, but he knew when someone was bracing for an attack.
That was just wrong.
"This is where you make a scene, you know. Start bitching about my crappy dishes," Eliot joked, and after a minute, Alec nodded, but he didn't laugh, didn't say anything. Just kept his eyes frozen on Eliot.
For all Eliot knew, he might have been seeing someone else completely.
---
Alec relaxed somewhat during the movie- Batman- even if he didn't talk through it the way Eliot had half-hoped that he would, but then again, he'd had put it on specifically so talking wouldn't be an issue.
To be honest, Alec spent half the evening watching Eliot watch the movie from the far end of the couch, and the other half casting his eyes around the room, as if he was seeing it for the first time.
When the credits rolled, Eliot stretched. "Wanna turn in?"
"Sure. Where do I sleep?"
"Huh?"
Alec didn't repeat himself, though, instead preferring to stare at the floor in what mostly looked like embarrassed annoyance, but that wariness was still there.
"What the hell's up with all this, anyway? Hey," he said, tapping him on the arm when he looked away. "Seriously. You don't want to bring it to Nate, that's cool, but that means you're stuck explaining it to me, okay?"
Alec settled back into the couch. "I don't know. It's like. I know where we are and what's going on, but I keep forgetting that I know it." Alec rocked his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Feels like I'm, like, ten or something. I keep expecting to see things, people I haven't talked to in years. It's not like I'm delusional, but…" he trailed off. "Fuck, who knows, maybe that's what this is."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you know what it feels like to be insane?"
"No."
"Me neither. But I'm starting to wonder."
Eliot had absolutely no idea what to say to that. "That's gotta be weird." It was strange enough just hearing about it. "Well look. I mean, you can crash with me if you want, but the guest room's all made up if you think that would be better. No harm, no foul."
Alec rocked his head against the back of the couch, stared up at the ceiling. "Nah. Um. Thanks, though. I think."
"Right on. You go turn in, I've got a few things to handle down here. I'll be in there in a bit."
---
He pretended not to notice that Alec wandered back through the kitchen, towards the office that Eliot never used, before turning around and heading the other way towards the stairs. It didn't mean he was getting lost. Maybe he'd just meant to go check something online and then decided against it.
---
"Eliot?"
"Hey, Nate," he paused, not really knowing where to go from there, but Nate saved him the trouble.
"How's Hardison doing?"
"Turned in a little while ago, but he's been way off all night. Said that he keeps thinking that he's a kid, or remembering a bunch of stuff. He got lost in my house, he's still being really quiet, and-" he broke off, knowing that he was rambling and not wanting to go into any more detail, and changed tracks. "If he has a second to think about it, he knows what's going on, but he's not processing much of anything."
"Oh."
"Yeah. We, ah. Talked about it a bit, and it sounds like Towhill had him under hypnosis when the alarms went off. He's not talking about cults or aliens or anything, but-"
"He was only in there for half an hour. Odds are, if she had him under, she was just establishing a baseline. But you're right, someone who's in that state and brought suddenly out of it is going to have a hard time tracking, for a while. Lots of memories brought up to the surface, that kind of thing."
"Seems more than just memories, Nate. It's his entire personality."
"Well. She specializes in age regression, so that's probably where all this is coming from. He's probably having a hard time parsing it all out."
"Does it wear off?"
"It can." Nate stated it firmly enough that Eliot was fairly certain he'd been spending the entire evening researching this. Of Course. He would've seen it right away. "But if it doesn't, it's no big deal to go in again and bring him out properly. I'd rather we wait a day or two, though, especially if he's not in a trusting mood."
Eliot thought about every single flinch, every attempt Alec had made to avoid his eyes. "Why do you say that?"
"You said he's walking around convinced that he's a kid, well, he's going to act like one."
"He's not acting like a kid, he's acting, like. I don't know, I mean. He's quiet, not cracking any jokes. I would've thought ten-year-old Hardison would've been at least twice as loud."
"Not necessarily," Nate muttered, something his voice making Eliot wonder what else he'd been looking into. "Anyway. For now, just keep an eye on him. If he's not faring any better by tomorrow afternoon, and he's up for it, bring him over here, all right?"
"Right. Cool. Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
---
Eliot felt a little better after talking to Nate, but his improved mood didn't transmit through the house to infect Alec.
He'd taken his usual spot on the bed, but that was where the similarity ended. His shoes were placed neatly at the foot of the bed instead of lying where they'd fallen. Other than the shoes, he was still fully dressed, and his computer bag, Eliot noticed, was within arm's reach.
That's fine, Eliot told himself. Strange, but fine. Slightly more troubling, though not surprising, was the fact that he was still awake. It meant they'd probably have to talk, more, and the only thing Eliot could think of to mention was the fact that he'd just essentially ratted him out.
"Is he mad?"
"What?"
"I heard you. On the phone. Nate."
"Ah. No, nobody's mad." Shucking his jeans, but left his t-shirt on, and climbed into bed. "Just wondering what's going on in your head, is all. It's fine."
"Yeah. I know it is," Alec rolled over to face him, clearly still tense. "Kinda. Just being stupid. Trying to stop it, but…"
"Hey," Eliot was glad the lights were off, probably nearly as much as Alec was. "Under the circumstances, you're doing good, all right?"
Alec mumbled a noncommittal response, and Eliot tried to guess what he'd have to say to get him to relaxed enough to sleep, because the way he was curled on his side, arms pressed close, looked like a defensive position. Eliot didn't know if it was just how Alec had slept when he was a kid, or it was because he was feeling awkward about all of this. It wasn't a question he wanted the answer to, honestly, and probably not one Alec would want to give.
Still, though. He needed to know. "You sure you're okay, here? It's not. I'm not freakin' you out or anything, am I, bein' here?"
"Ah. No. It's good."
"Cool."
They were lying there in the dark for a long time before Alec shifted, moving decisively. "Almost forgot," he grinned sheepishly, and kissed Eliot goodnight, quick and darting. He'd moved away again, though, before Eliot could do more than touch his shoulder.
But he hadn't moved as far away as he'd been. Eliot decided to read it as a good sign.
---
The shift of the mattress woke Eliot as Alec rose, but he didn't turn over. A quick glance at the clock told him it was nearly five in the morning, and he closed his eyes when Alec crossed to the door.
Ten minutes later, he still wasn't back. Another five minutes, and Eliot was throwing his jeans on and heading out to look for him.
He didn't have to go further than the kitchen, where Alec was standing by the counter with a glass of water, apparently surveying the back yard through the window.
Careful to move noisily, Eliot entered the kitchen, but didn't approach until he was certain Alec knew he was there. "You okay?"
Alec shrugged. "Yeah. Just thinking, is all."
"About?"
For a while, it didn't seem like Alec was going to respond, but Eliot was getting used to it. "Trying to figure out how it all works, in my head. I came down here, knowing I'd be able to see the busted up lawnmower in the yard next door, but I was still surprised when I didn't see the ally behind my Nana's old place." He shook his head and turned. He looked exhausted.
"Have you slept at all?"
"Tried. Failed. Tried again, failed more. Thought a lot about Parker, and where she was, if she's in any trouble, because I've convinced myself that she's this girl I used to know who ran away from the home."
"She ever come back? The girl, I mean."
"Yeah, but they moved her somewhere else, not long after. She'd only made it a few blocks away when the police caught up with her."
"That's good," right? Eliot shrugged, having no clue at all what to say, and Alec shrugged.
Deciding that it was close enough to morning, Eliot put some coffee on, grabbing the beans from the fridge. "You want some? Or some soda or something?"
"Nana only lets me have soda on Sun- what the hell?" Hardison rolled his eyes, frustrated, and grabbed the bottle when Eliot held it out. "Thanks. Man, I'm sick of this shit."
"You and me both." Eliot sat down across the table. "So what do you feel like doing today?"
"It's visitation day, we've got to-" Alec grimaced, looking beseechingly at Eliot. "This is gonna wear off, right?"
"Probably. If not, Nate can put you under you and bring you back out again, and that'll take care of it."
"More hypnosis, huh?"
"Looks that way."
"Remind me again why I volunteered for this?"
"Beats the hell out of me. But hey, look. I was thinking maybe we should head back to your apartment. Maybe that'll help, you know? Familiar grounds and all?"
"You think? I'm pretty familiar with this place."
"You got lost on the way to the bedroom. And wandered into the closet when you were looking for the bathroom, and if you've actually slept, I'm the Queen of England."
"I was looking for towels," Alec weakly insisted. "Just. Forgot you kept them in the bathroom cabinet is all."
Eliot let the matter drop, reluctant to argue. Eventually, he followed Alec out onto the couch, and dozed along to the cartoons.
Alec probably would've been watching them anyway.
---
"Hey, man. Let's go." Alec was already dressed, jeans and sweatshirt and shoes and nervous energy.
"What time is it?"
"A little after one."
"You should've woken me up."
Alec shrugged. "To what, walk on eggshells around me? I mean, not that I blame you, but. Anyway. You needed the sleep."
"What've you been up to all morning?"
Alec shrugged, his eyes darting to the side as he considered lying, but then he shrugged. "Drawing. Just wanted to see if I still could."
"Can you?"
"No. It's all coming out all wrong. Scribbling. Stick figures and all. I gotta get this taken care of before the next forgery job I have to do, that's for damned sure."
"Right this minute?"
"You said Nate could fix me. I'm still wandering around expecting the van to pull up to take me down to see my mom at the jail, and she's been out for, like, eight years. Or I'll be looking out the window waiting for Nate and Sophie to come in yelling because you're passed out on the couch and we're not doing our chores. It's distracting as hell. Seriously. If you even end up going insane, make sure you go so far 'round the bend that you don't know you're messed up."
"I'll keep that in mind," Eliot said, wondering at his inclusion in the errant memories, but when he moved to ask, Alec was already heading towards the kitchen, moving quickly, the matter evidently closed.
---
The ride over was tense and awkward. Of course it fucking was.
---
Nate kicked Eliot out to wait in the bar while he dealt with Hardison, so he found himself staring at the television on the wall and tearing at the label on his beer. Sometimes, he drank, and mostly, he tried not to think about what would happen if Nate's whatever he was doing didn't work.
He could be imaginative when the situation called for it, showing him several possible futures.
The attempts to keep Alec's head where it needed to be, and the steady downward slide that followed anyway.
Breaking up after a few tense weeks spent wandering around terrified that Alec was turning him into a pedophile.
Alec quitting the team, maybe even being committed, unable to parse reality. Locked in some insane asylum with padded walls and no windows. Straitjackets and the works.
He was only about halfway done thinking about the horrors of hospital visiting hours when his phone rang.
---
Hardison's grin was sheepish, when Eliot went upstairs, but it was there.
"We will never speak of this again," he said, solemnly. "You hear?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die."
"What the hell, Eliot, now you're twelve years old?" Nate snorted.
---
Alec maintained his narration from Nate's door to Eliot's, but didn't seem too particular about his topic. He ranged from wondering exactly what kind of stuff Nate got into in prison, to the seven extra levels of hell he wanted to give Doctor Towhill. He described the adjustments he still wanted to make for Nate and Sophie's forged certifications, and told Eliot about the new digital watermarking system that had been adopted for use by the state. He was just starting to go into detail when Eliot snorted, finally reaching the turnoff to his house.
"Hey, man," Alec huffed. "Just because you've got no proper appreciation for the finer points of review board documentation doesn't mean I'm gonna go on and get sloppy."
Inside, he bitched about Eliot's wifi signal, spent half an hour doing all the updates that Eliot had promised he'd get around to, one of these days, and seemed to run both sides of the debate regarding what, exactly, they were doing for dinner. Apparently pizza was winning out., for now, but already, Alec was changing his mind, and-
"Just. Stop it," Eliot interjected. "All this. I know what you're doing."
"And what's that?"
You're being more you than you've ever been, and you're doing it all at once. "Look. I don't know if it's me that you're trying to distract, or you, but you can stop any time, you know."
"Sorry, I-"
Eliot sighed. "No. Hang on. That right there? That was me being a jackass."
"It's cool." Alec forced himself to relax. "I was being kind of a head case. It's just. I don't even know what. Fucking with my head, you know?"
Eliot nodded, staring out the window, not knowing what he was supposed to say for the hundredth time today. When he turned back, Alec was still holding himself like he was expecting another round of argument, if not worse. Sitting on the very edge of the couch, elbows on his knees and hands toying with the cord from the sweatshirt's hood. His posture looked suspiciously defensive.
"Got a question. That guy you thought you were seeing when you were looking at me."
"Yeah?"
"He didn't." Eliot didn't know where he was going with this. "You want me to track him down and kick his ass?"
"What? No. Steve was cool." Alec peered at him like it was Eliot's turn to be crazy.
"Oh. Okay." Eliot stared at the takeout menus on the table, feeling like a tool, before deciding that they'd both had enough awkwardness for the next year or so. "Good."
Alec grinned, shaking his head in amusement, and Eliot figured that he'd rather be laughed at than anything else Alec had managed all weekend.
Eliot held his hands out and waited for Alec to take them before pulling him to his feet.
"You'd tell me if there was someone, though, right?"
"Already handled everyone who needed handling a long time ago," he shrugged as Eliot hooked his fingers into the pocket of Alec's jeans. "But thanks anyway."
When he tugged, Alec came forward willingly enough, his grin widening as he grabbed at Eliot's shoulders. If his fingers were curled into the material of his shirt a little more tightly, or if his kisses were closer, quieter than usual, Eliot wasn't going to call him on it.
And when he pulled back to breathe, wild eyed and happy and mind half-blown, Eliot didn't know if he was seeing Alec for the first time this weekend, or if Alec was seeing him. Either way, he wasn't going to let him go far.
Then Alec's hands were in his hair again, tugging slightly and tipping his face up to meet him. Apparently he wasn't set on going anywhere, either.
Author: jendavis
Fandom/ Pairing: Leverage Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take too seriously.
Summary: Written for hc_bingo prompt "de-age (mental)."
A/N: Woo! It's the last one written for my blackout! *collapses*
So far, everything had been going to plan, as screwed as the plan was. Eliot was helping Parker rifle through Dr. Towhill's tax records in the front office, Nate and Sophie were on the line, gathering intel for part two of the con, and Hardison?
Hardison was in the back office, being psychoanalyzed by their mark.
Eliot didn't like it, and nobody had been thrilled at the notion, but they'd known from the start that they'd need to work Towhill from all angles. They needed someone on the inside, and between Nate and Sophie posing as psychiatrists, and the unspoken agreement that Parker shouldn't be let within a mile of anyone capable of messing with her head, Hardison had volunteered.
"I got this," he'd insisted, when Eliot had argued.
"Thought you hated people messing with your head."
"They don't usually get into any of the hypnosis stuff until your third or fourth session," Parker had interjected, earning wary glances from everyone gathered.
"Not without my permission," he looked pointedly at Nate. "I know what I'm signing up for, and besides, if we wind up needing to work the cult angle later, that's all you. Aliens, though? I'm down."
And Eliot got that, even if it did seem risky. He did.
It didn't mean he liked throwing Hardison in there with a woman who'd hypnotized an entire support group into believing they'd been kidnapped by aliens. Or that, despite all the evidence to the contrary, most of her Thursday night patients knew that as children, they'd witnessed- or helped- with ritual sacrifices. Usually on a black altar, out in the woods, and always overseen by a leader who looked like Charles Manson. Upside down crosses, pentagrams, bizarre looking knives, the works.
Of all the fucked things.
Chill out.
From what Eliot could hear through the door, Hardison was doing fine. By this time next week, Doctor Towhill would be on the streets, if not the loony bin herself.
It was going just smoothly enough that Eliot's warning bells should've been going off, but it was the loud klaxon of an alarm shrieking through the building that he was suddenly hearing instead.
"Damn it," Parker growled, shoving the last of the files in her bag. "I don't get it, they're just filing cabinets, there's no security-"
Through the door, Eliot could hear Doctor Towhill sputtering, hurriedly waking Hardison and telling him that they needed to leave.
"Ah, yeah. Guys," Nate came on comms. "The system's already alerted the fire department. First responders should be here within minutes, so I'm pulling the plug on this one. Eliot, Parker, get out of there. Hardison?"
"I'm fine" Hardison said, addressing Dr. Towhill, and for an instant, Eliot thought he was responding to Nate. It wasn't until a moment later that Sophie reminded everyone that he'd taken his comms out. Right. Privacy. Whatever.
"It's cool," he was saying, now. He sounded worried, but then again, most people seemed worried when the building they were in was on fire.
Eliot followed Parker out into the hallway, joining the throng of traffic heading for the stairs. With all the noise, it was hard to make out much of anything, but they weren't so far ahead that he couldn't still hear Hardison and Towhill talking not ten feet behind them.
"No, that's fine, I'm sure it doesn't happen all the time."
"I'm sure this is nothing, it will be just a short delay," Towhill was saying. "I'm obviously not going to bill you for standing outside, so if you'd like, we can continue this…"
"I have to be at work in an hour," Hardison lied. "But you said you can fit me in on Monday morning?"
Eliot reached the ground floor, then, and their voices were lost in the crowd. By the time they made their way out of the building to reconvene by the van, the news had spread that someone had burned their toast in the break room on the second floor.
"Seriously?" Eliot muttered, letting Parker into the van first.
"It's fine," Nate insisted as Hardison caught up, climbed in after Eliot. "We got what we needed."
---
It wasn't fine at all, but nobody knew it, yet.
---
Hardison was unusually quiet on the way back, but with Sophie and Nate debating the ethics of neuro-linguistic programming, hypnosis, and Gaslight Syndrome, Eliot nearly missed it.
Flipping through the stolen files- each more bizarre than the last- as they wound their way through rush-hour traffic, Eliot shook his head and smirked, holding the file up for Hardison to see. "You know Eric Krosniki thinks his parents made him help sacrifice a goat when he was five years old?"
Expecting loud, sputtering disbelief, he was puzzled to get no response. When he turned to look, Hardison was staring at him, worried and nervous, and he flinched at Parker's barking laugh.
Eventually, they pulled into the lot behind Nate's building and filtered up to his apartment. Parker made a beeline for the cupboard and pulled out her cereal while Sophie put a pot of coffee on.
"Here," Nate said, tossing Hardison the thumb drive that Parker had given him. "Get these loaded up. Let's see what we're looking at."
"Yes, Mister Ford." Hardison sat down, his backpack on his lap. He took his laptop out, but the usual sprawl of external devices and cords didn't follow. Turning it on and tapping a few keys, he pulled up the files, unaware of the confused glances being exchanged around him.
Nate frowned, but went to turn on the wall screen, and after a moment, the complete directory of Towhill's financials and working files was up for everyone to see.
With all the insanity contained within each patient's workup, Eliot forgot about Hardison for a while.
---
"So essentially, Towhill is making a killing convincing people of all sorts of whacked out stuff, to the tune of two hundred dollars a session, and she's good enough at it that most of her clients have been coming back, once or twice a month, for years in some cases."
Sophie shook her head, throwing herself dramatically onto the couch and glaring at the screen. "It's more than once or twice if they're in one of her support groups."
"So, not only is she going in and warping their memories through hypnosis," Nate summarized. "She's shoving them in a room with each other to reinforce their beliefs. What we need to know is, ah. Does she know that's what she's doing, or does she actually believe that she's helping?"
"Why?" Eliot shook his head. It seemed like a waste of time. "Either way, it amounts to the same thing."
"Except for how we handle her. If she knows she's pulling a scam, it's going to be very easy to take her down. If she believes it, though, then we're going to have a much harder time getting her to stop."
"It's going to be hard enough, trying to undo a decade's worth of mind games in ten days," Parker pointed out. "I mean, normally, they try and drag you in for session after session after session, until you wise up and climb over the wall during arts and crafts."
Sophie and Nate exchanged glances, silently electing to ignore the comment. "We don't have to undo it all the way, just plant the suggestions in their heads, same way she's been doing. We just have to get enough of a start that her patients sue her into the ground." Sophie glanced at Nate, who nodded in agreement.
"Now, Sophie and I already have an in with Towhill, enough that she's letting us take over her support groups next week, in order for us to talk to her patients for the study we're working on. While we're in there, we'll have an easy enough time planting the doubt in their minds, but the most important thing is that we don't have Towhill wandering in to botch it all up. Parker, Eliot? You're going to be tailing her to make sure that doesn't happen."
"So, what. You're just going to waltz in and tell her patients that she's been lying to them?"
"No. I'm going to get them to decide that she's been lying to them."
"How?"
"The power of suggestion. Same damned thing Towhill uses in her hypnotherapy sessions. They're going to figure it out for themselves in the days after the session, and by that point, they'll already be getting calls from our client, Dr. Ramirez, who's already chomping at the bit to have his colleagues at the hospital take their cases from there."
"And you know for sure that Ramirez is on the up and up? I mean, I know he's our client, and everything, but…" He caught Hardison's eyes darting away from him and his jaw tightening, just a bit.
Nate shook his head. "They're clean. We've already got the documentation showing that while the board agrees with his concerns, they can't move on them unless her patients are the ones to file a complaint. That's why we've got Hardison going in, just to make sure that one of them will." Nate glanced at Hardison, no doubt waiting for some sort of response, but he was still perched ramrod straight on his chair, saying nothing.
"I believe in aliens," Parker said, fiddling with one of her lock picks. "What's wrong with that?"
"Every single patient of hers is suffering from anxiety, paranoia and depression. Several of them are also dealing with night terrors and delusions that they didn't report when they were going in. They're getting worse, not better"
---
They discussed and planned until there was nothing left to talk about, until they were left sitting there trying to ignore the elephant in the room hovering over Hardison's shoulder.
"So. What happened back there?" Nate asked, earning a warning glance from Sophie. "Hardison?"
"I. I don't know, Mr.- Nate," was his response, and it was nearly enough to tell the whole story.
"You were in there, talking with her…"
"Not on comms," Eliot prompted, because yeah, he'd seen the point- he wouldn't have wanted the team listening in on something like that, even if it was for a job- but it was clearly coming around to bite them in the ass.
Hardison, for his part, looked like he was ready to bolt.
"Nothing happened. We just talked. I told her I wasn't sleeping well and couldn't concentrate at work, and threw in that bit about having nightmares all my life." Hardison was talking to the floor, more than anything, his voice quiet. The words weren't stumbling out rapid-fire like they usually did. "Uh, told her a bit about growing up, and the fire alarms went off, and we were done. Didn't get much out of her, though, but I think if I'd had more time-"
"It's fine," Nate said. "We only needed to convince her that you were a viable patient."
"I've got an appointment to see her on Monday."
"Good. Then it worked. That part at least."
"Yeah, but-" Eliot cut himself off, not wanting to be the one to point out that he could see, plain as anyone, the way Hardison tensed up whenever he looked in Eliot's direction, or the way he avoided it when he could.
---
Going down the stairs from Nate's, Hardison flinched, dodging away when he felt Eliot's hand at the small of his back.
"Sorry, man. Just. Weird head space, is all."
"Yeah."
---
Normally, Alec wandered in like he owned the place and headed straight for the kitchen, and then usually started complaining that Eliot didn't keep any real food at his place. Now, though, he hesitated on the front steps, and had to be reminded that he had a key.
"Yeah, man. Sorry. I forgot."
Eliot opened the door and dumped tossed his coat over the hook. "You hungry? What do you want to eat?"
"Whatever you want."
"Hardison, come on."
Alec sighed, realizing he was doing it again. "Right. Ah. Spaghetti?" He took of his coat and moved back to hang it on the hook, which he'd never done before. Eliot heard him snort, though, and turned to catch him throwing it onto the arm of the couch instead.
Normally, Eliot would have badgered him into putting it away, but tonight, he grinned. It was the most normal thing Alec had done all day.
"Sounds good."
---
He watched Eliot prepare dinner with more interest than usual, like he couldn't believe that he was seeing him cook.
Eliot managed about five minutes- just long enough to get the salad made- before breaking under the scrutiny.
"I keep wanting to ask you stuff, and. I know that ain't how we do."
"What do you mean?"
"Like, where you're from, what you're doing here. If you really did half the things the other kids are saying you did. And when, apparently, you decided that vegetables wouldn't kill you. It's like. I'm seeing you, and I recognize you, but I keep thinking you're someone else entirely."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. And earlier, when we were going up to Nate's? I was going to ask you about him and Sophie. If they were cool."
"Why, did something go down?"
"No. Not like that. Just, if they were good people, what you thought of them." Alec sighed, scratching his arm. "The usual." Glancing up at Eliot, he grimaced. "Like when you go into a new system house. You gotta get the details, survey the surroundings, you know?"
"So let me get this straight. You think Nate and Sophie are what, exactly?"
"Foster parents. I don't know why. And yes, it's more than slightly humiliating. For the record."
Leaning back in his chair, Eliot didn't want to ask. "What happened in there?"
"The home?"
"The shrink's office."
"I don't know. Like I said, we talked, she asked a bunch of questions, and when I woke up-"
Eliot felt the chair legs contact the floor again, hard. "Hang on. Woke up?"
"Yeah," Alec scowled his confusion, realization spreading over his face. "Shit."
"Only reason you'd be doing that is because she put you under," Eliot confirmed. "You seriously don't remember that?"
"No. Well. Kinda? I was really tired."
"Dammit, Hardison."
Alec froze, and Eliot forced himself to take a breath before looking at him again. "Sorry." Nodding, Alec toyed with his food, no longer all interested in actually eating it, and Eliot was at a loss. "Look, man. We should call Nate, see what he thinks we ought to do."
Alec didn't actually answer until Eliot prompted him. "You think we can leave it until morning? See if it goes away first? I don't wanna-"
"What?"
"Irritate him."
Eliot had no idea if this was the sort of thing that would go away on its own, but then again. If he'd been in Alec's shoes, he wouldn't want it broadcast for everyone to see, either. And whatever was going on in Alec's head didn't seem pretty.
"Sure," he answered, carefully keeping the reluctance from his voice. "Yeah. Okay."
---
After dinner, Alec cleared the table and started washing the dishes. It was the most animated Eliot had seen him all evening, which wasn't saying much. It was mostly disturbing, truth be told, but it meant there were ten minutes where Eliot didn't have to pick apart every word he said, didn't have to acknowledge the insistent worry in the back of his head.
When Eliot came back from taking out the garbage and grabbing the mail, he found Alec standing in the kitchen, his back stiff, holding shards of broken glass in his hand.
If this entire afternoon hadn't been so screwed up, Eliot wouldn't have immediately thought the worst, wouldn't have been convinced that Alec was trying to slit his wrists. As it was, though, he strode across the kitchen, glancing at the floor, looking for blood. He found none.
But Alec looked terrified. And it wasn't because of the glass, it was because Eliot had come dangerously close to grabbing his wrists.
"What happened?" Eliot said, trying to keep his voice calm.
Alec back-stepped. "Look, if you can drive us out to the store, I've got some cash, I can replace it, nobody has to know. It was an accident. My hands were all soapy and I tried to catch it, but it hit the edge of the sink."
"Oh." Eliot sighed, grabbing a grocery bag from the cabinet to throw the shards into. "Happens. It's cool. Throw them in here."
Alec did as he was told, but backed away again the moment his hands were empty.
Eliot wasn't expecting it, and he didn't want to know, but he knew when someone was bracing for an attack.
That was just wrong.
"This is where you make a scene, you know. Start bitching about my crappy dishes," Eliot joked, and after a minute, Alec nodded, but he didn't laugh, didn't say anything. Just kept his eyes frozen on Eliot.
For all Eliot knew, he might have been seeing someone else completely.
---
Alec relaxed somewhat during the movie- Batman- even if he didn't talk through it the way Eliot had half-hoped that he would, but then again, he'd had put it on specifically so talking wouldn't be an issue.
To be honest, Alec spent half the evening watching Eliot watch the movie from the far end of the couch, and the other half casting his eyes around the room, as if he was seeing it for the first time.
When the credits rolled, Eliot stretched. "Wanna turn in?"
"Sure. Where do I sleep?"
"Huh?"
Alec didn't repeat himself, though, instead preferring to stare at the floor in what mostly looked like embarrassed annoyance, but that wariness was still there.
"What the hell's up with all this, anyway? Hey," he said, tapping him on the arm when he looked away. "Seriously. You don't want to bring it to Nate, that's cool, but that means you're stuck explaining it to me, okay?"
Alec settled back into the couch. "I don't know. It's like. I know where we are and what's going on, but I keep forgetting that I know it." Alec rocked his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Feels like I'm, like, ten or something. I keep expecting to see things, people I haven't talked to in years. It's not like I'm delusional, but…" he trailed off. "Fuck, who knows, maybe that's what this is."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you know what it feels like to be insane?"
"No."
"Me neither. But I'm starting to wonder."
Eliot had absolutely no idea what to say to that. "That's gotta be weird." It was strange enough just hearing about it. "Well look. I mean, you can crash with me if you want, but the guest room's all made up if you think that would be better. No harm, no foul."
Alec rocked his head against the back of the couch, stared up at the ceiling. "Nah. Um. Thanks, though. I think."
"Right on. You go turn in, I've got a few things to handle down here. I'll be in there in a bit."
---
He pretended not to notice that Alec wandered back through the kitchen, towards the office that Eliot never used, before turning around and heading the other way towards the stairs. It didn't mean he was getting lost. Maybe he'd just meant to go check something online and then decided against it.
---
"Eliot?"
"Hey, Nate," he paused, not really knowing where to go from there, but Nate saved him the trouble.
"How's Hardison doing?"
"Turned in a little while ago, but he's been way off all night. Said that he keeps thinking that he's a kid, or remembering a bunch of stuff. He got lost in my house, he's still being really quiet, and-" he broke off, knowing that he was rambling and not wanting to go into any more detail, and changed tracks. "If he has a second to think about it, he knows what's going on, but he's not processing much of anything."
"Oh."
"Yeah. We, ah. Talked about it a bit, and it sounds like Towhill had him under hypnosis when the alarms went off. He's not talking about cults or aliens or anything, but-"
"He was only in there for half an hour. Odds are, if she had him under, she was just establishing a baseline. But you're right, someone who's in that state and brought suddenly out of it is going to have a hard time tracking, for a while. Lots of memories brought up to the surface, that kind of thing."
"Seems more than just memories, Nate. It's his entire personality."
"Well. She specializes in age regression, so that's probably where all this is coming from. He's probably having a hard time parsing it all out."
"Does it wear off?"
"It can." Nate stated it firmly enough that Eliot was fairly certain he'd been spending the entire evening researching this. Of Course. He would've seen it right away. "But if it doesn't, it's no big deal to go in again and bring him out properly. I'd rather we wait a day or two, though, especially if he's not in a trusting mood."
Eliot thought about every single flinch, every attempt Alec had made to avoid his eyes. "Why do you say that?"
"You said he's walking around convinced that he's a kid, well, he's going to act like one."
"He's not acting like a kid, he's acting, like. I don't know, I mean. He's quiet, not cracking any jokes. I would've thought ten-year-old Hardison would've been at least twice as loud."
"Not necessarily," Nate muttered, something his voice making Eliot wonder what else he'd been looking into. "Anyway. For now, just keep an eye on him. If he's not faring any better by tomorrow afternoon, and he's up for it, bring him over here, all right?"
"Right. Cool. Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
---
Eliot felt a little better after talking to Nate, but his improved mood didn't transmit through the house to infect Alec.
He'd taken his usual spot on the bed, but that was where the similarity ended. His shoes were placed neatly at the foot of the bed instead of lying where they'd fallen. Other than the shoes, he was still fully dressed, and his computer bag, Eliot noticed, was within arm's reach.
That's fine, Eliot told himself. Strange, but fine. Slightly more troubling, though not surprising, was the fact that he was still awake. It meant they'd probably have to talk, more, and the only thing Eliot could think of to mention was the fact that he'd just essentially ratted him out.
"Is he mad?"
"What?"
"I heard you. On the phone. Nate."
"Ah. No, nobody's mad." Shucking his jeans, but left his t-shirt on, and climbed into bed. "Just wondering what's going on in your head, is all. It's fine."
"Yeah. I know it is," Alec rolled over to face him, clearly still tense. "Kinda. Just being stupid. Trying to stop it, but…"
"Hey," Eliot was glad the lights were off, probably nearly as much as Alec was. "Under the circumstances, you're doing good, all right?"
Alec mumbled a noncommittal response, and Eliot tried to guess what he'd have to say to get him to relaxed enough to sleep, because the way he was curled on his side, arms pressed close, looked like a defensive position. Eliot didn't know if it was just how Alec had slept when he was a kid, or it was because he was feeling awkward about all of this. It wasn't a question he wanted the answer to, honestly, and probably not one Alec would want to give.
Still, though. He needed to know. "You sure you're okay, here? It's not. I'm not freakin' you out or anything, am I, bein' here?"
"Ah. No. It's good."
"Cool."
They were lying there in the dark for a long time before Alec shifted, moving decisively. "Almost forgot," he grinned sheepishly, and kissed Eliot goodnight, quick and darting. He'd moved away again, though, before Eliot could do more than touch his shoulder.
But he hadn't moved as far away as he'd been. Eliot decided to read it as a good sign.
---
The shift of the mattress woke Eliot as Alec rose, but he didn't turn over. A quick glance at the clock told him it was nearly five in the morning, and he closed his eyes when Alec crossed to the door.
Ten minutes later, he still wasn't back. Another five minutes, and Eliot was throwing his jeans on and heading out to look for him.
He didn't have to go further than the kitchen, where Alec was standing by the counter with a glass of water, apparently surveying the back yard through the window.
Careful to move noisily, Eliot entered the kitchen, but didn't approach until he was certain Alec knew he was there. "You okay?"
Alec shrugged. "Yeah. Just thinking, is all."
"About?"
For a while, it didn't seem like Alec was going to respond, but Eliot was getting used to it. "Trying to figure out how it all works, in my head. I came down here, knowing I'd be able to see the busted up lawnmower in the yard next door, but I was still surprised when I didn't see the ally behind my Nana's old place." He shook his head and turned. He looked exhausted.
"Have you slept at all?"
"Tried. Failed. Tried again, failed more. Thought a lot about Parker, and where she was, if she's in any trouble, because I've convinced myself that she's this girl I used to know who ran away from the home."
"She ever come back? The girl, I mean."
"Yeah, but they moved her somewhere else, not long after. She'd only made it a few blocks away when the police caught up with her."
"That's good," right? Eliot shrugged, having no clue at all what to say, and Alec shrugged.
Deciding that it was close enough to morning, Eliot put some coffee on, grabbing the beans from the fridge. "You want some? Or some soda or something?"
"Nana only lets me have soda on Sun- what the hell?" Hardison rolled his eyes, frustrated, and grabbed the bottle when Eliot held it out. "Thanks. Man, I'm sick of this shit."
"You and me both." Eliot sat down across the table. "So what do you feel like doing today?"
"It's visitation day, we've got to-" Alec grimaced, looking beseechingly at Eliot. "This is gonna wear off, right?"
"Probably. If not, Nate can put you under you and bring you back out again, and that'll take care of it."
"More hypnosis, huh?"
"Looks that way."
"Remind me again why I volunteered for this?"
"Beats the hell out of me. But hey, look. I was thinking maybe we should head back to your apartment. Maybe that'll help, you know? Familiar grounds and all?"
"You think? I'm pretty familiar with this place."
"You got lost on the way to the bedroom. And wandered into the closet when you were looking for the bathroom, and if you've actually slept, I'm the Queen of England."
"I was looking for towels," Alec weakly insisted. "Just. Forgot you kept them in the bathroom cabinet is all."
Eliot let the matter drop, reluctant to argue. Eventually, he followed Alec out onto the couch, and dozed along to the cartoons.
Alec probably would've been watching them anyway.
---
"Hey, man. Let's go." Alec was already dressed, jeans and sweatshirt and shoes and nervous energy.
"What time is it?"
"A little after one."
"You should've woken me up."
Alec shrugged. "To what, walk on eggshells around me? I mean, not that I blame you, but. Anyway. You needed the sleep."
"What've you been up to all morning?"
Alec shrugged, his eyes darting to the side as he considered lying, but then he shrugged. "Drawing. Just wanted to see if I still could."
"Can you?"
"No. It's all coming out all wrong. Scribbling. Stick figures and all. I gotta get this taken care of before the next forgery job I have to do, that's for damned sure."
"Right this minute?"
"You said Nate could fix me. I'm still wandering around expecting the van to pull up to take me down to see my mom at the jail, and she's been out for, like, eight years. Or I'll be looking out the window waiting for Nate and Sophie to come in yelling because you're passed out on the couch and we're not doing our chores. It's distracting as hell. Seriously. If you even end up going insane, make sure you go so far 'round the bend that you don't know you're messed up."
"I'll keep that in mind," Eliot said, wondering at his inclusion in the errant memories, but when he moved to ask, Alec was already heading towards the kitchen, moving quickly, the matter evidently closed.
---
The ride over was tense and awkward. Of course it fucking was.
---
Nate kicked Eliot out to wait in the bar while he dealt with Hardison, so he found himself staring at the television on the wall and tearing at the label on his beer. Sometimes, he drank, and mostly, he tried not to think about what would happen if Nate's whatever he was doing didn't work.
He could be imaginative when the situation called for it, showing him several possible futures.
The attempts to keep Alec's head where it needed to be, and the steady downward slide that followed anyway.
Breaking up after a few tense weeks spent wandering around terrified that Alec was turning him into a pedophile.
Alec quitting the team, maybe even being committed, unable to parse reality. Locked in some insane asylum with padded walls and no windows. Straitjackets and the works.
He was only about halfway done thinking about the horrors of hospital visiting hours when his phone rang.
---
Hardison's grin was sheepish, when Eliot went upstairs, but it was there.
"We will never speak of this again," he said, solemnly. "You hear?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die."
"What the hell, Eliot, now you're twelve years old?" Nate snorted.
---
Alec maintained his narration from Nate's door to Eliot's, but didn't seem too particular about his topic. He ranged from wondering exactly what kind of stuff Nate got into in prison, to the seven extra levels of hell he wanted to give Doctor Towhill. He described the adjustments he still wanted to make for Nate and Sophie's forged certifications, and told Eliot about the new digital watermarking system that had been adopted for use by the state. He was just starting to go into detail when Eliot snorted, finally reaching the turnoff to his house.
"Hey, man," Alec huffed. "Just because you've got no proper appreciation for the finer points of review board documentation doesn't mean I'm gonna go on and get sloppy."
Inside, he bitched about Eliot's wifi signal, spent half an hour doing all the updates that Eliot had promised he'd get around to, one of these days, and seemed to run both sides of the debate regarding what, exactly, they were doing for dinner. Apparently pizza was winning out., for now, but already, Alec was changing his mind, and-
"Just. Stop it," Eliot interjected. "All this. I know what you're doing."
"And what's that?"
You're being more you than you've ever been, and you're doing it all at once. "Look. I don't know if it's me that you're trying to distract, or you, but you can stop any time, you know."
"Sorry, I-"
Eliot sighed. "No. Hang on. That right there? That was me being a jackass."
"It's cool." Alec forced himself to relax. "I was being kind of a head case. It's just. I don't even know what. Fucking with my head, you know?"
Eliot nodded, staring out the window, not knowing what he was supposed to say for the hundredth time today. When he turned back, Alec was still holding himself like he was expecting another round of argument, if not worse. Sitting on the very edge of the couch, elbows on his knees and hands toying with the cord from the sweatshirt's hood. His posture looked suspiciously defensive.
"Got a question. That guy you thought you were seeing when you were looking at me."
"Yeah?"
"He didn't." Eliot didn't know where he was going with this. "You want me to track him down and kick his ass?"
"What? No. Steve was cool." Alec peered at him like it was Eliot's turn to be crazy.
"Oh. Okay." Eliot stared at the takeout menus on the table, feeling like a tool, before deciding that they'd both had enough awkwardness for the next year or so. "Good."
Alec grinned, shaking his head in amusement, and Eliot figured that he'd rather be laughed at than anything else Alec had managed all weekend.
Eliot held his hands out and waited for Alec to take them before pulling him to his feet.
"You'd tell me if there was someone, though, right?"
"Already handled everyone who needed handling a long time ago," he shrugged as Eliot hooked his fingers into the pocket of Alec's jeans. "But thanks anyway."
When he tugged, Alec came forward willingly enough, his grin widening as he grabbed at Eliot's shoulders. If his fingers were curled into the material of his shirt a little more tightly, or if his kisses were closer, quieter than usual, Eliot wasn't going to call him on it.
And when he pulled back to breathe, wild eyed and happy and mind half-blown, Eliot didn't know if he was seeing Alec for the first time this weekend, or if Alec was seeing him. Either way, he wasn't going to let him go far.
Then Alec's hands were in his hair again, tugging slightly and tipping his face up to meet him. Apparently he wasn't set on going anywhere, either.