Leverage fic: No Rest for the Wicked
Title: No Rest for the Wicked
Fandom(s): Leverage
Rating: PG
Word Count: 289
Summary: He warned them from the beginning this would end in blood and tears.
Author’s Notes: Response to this prompt.
No Rest for the Wicked
He warned them from the beginning this would end in blood and tears. Not in so many words, but he had his ways.
I actually hurt people.
If I was gonna do it, I’d have two guys on the ground at the gate, one guy on the plane to make sure she gets off.
The worst thing I ever did in my entire life, I did for Damien Moreau.
Punch, punch, bang, bang.
Of course, being thieves and conmen made them think he was just a different kind from them, that he’s a good guy who was dealt a bad hand. Which is true, sort of, except he’s accepted his damnation, has helped it along. The others aren’t like him. Their souls are still unmarred. Not like his.
When it ends, when he’s lying in a warehouse with a bullet in his leg, a knife in his back, a concussion so bad he’s not sure which way is up, and Parker’s voice in his ear saying We’re just a couple minutes away, Eliot, just hold on, please, he’s not surprised. Figures he deserves it, given everything he’s done. (All these years, they’ve kept telling him he’s atoned, that he’s got a clean slate, but he knows better. Whatever crimes of his they imagine in their heads, the truth is much, much worse.)
And now, a hair’s breadth from death, he hangs on long enough to see them rush in screaming his name, to see the tears on Hardison’s cheeks and his blood smeared on Parker’s face as she leans down to check for life, he thinks, I told you so. It’ll end in blood and tears, you just didn’t listen.
Not that he gets the chance to say it.
Fandom(s): Leverage
Rating: PG
Word Count: 289
Summary: He warned them from the beginning this would end in blood and tears.
Author’s Notes: Response to this prompt.
No Rest for the Wicked
He warned them from the beginning this would end in blood and tears. Not in so many words, but he had his ways.
I actually hurt people.
If I was gonna do it, I’d have two guys on the ground at the gate, one guy on the plane to make sure she gets off.
The worst thing I ever did in my entire life, I did for Damien Moreau.
Punch, punch, bang, bang.
Of course, being thieves and conmen made them think he was just a different kind from them, that he’s a good guy who was dealt a bad hand. Which is true, sort of, except he’s accepted his damnation, has helped it along. The others aren’t like him. Their souls are still unmarred. Not like his.
When it ends, when he’s lying in a warehouse with a bullet in his leg, a knife in his back, a concussion so bad he’s not sure which way is up, and Parker’s voice in his ear saying We’re just a couple minutes away, Eliot, just hold on, please, he’s not surprised. Figures he deserves it, given everything he’s done. (All these years, they’ve kept telling him he’s atoned, that he’s got a clean slate, but he knows better. Whatever crimes of his they imagine in their heads, the truth is much, much worse.)
And now, a hair’s breadth from death, he hangs on long enough to see them rush in screaming his name, to see the tears on Hardison’s cheeks and his blood smeared on Parker’s face as she leans down to check for life, he thinks, I told you so. It’ll end in blood and tears, you just didn’t listen.
Not that he gets the chance to say it.