Fic: Liabilities (Leverage, Nate-Eliot friendship, PG)
Title: Liabilities
Author: sheryden
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2420
Spoilers: Anything up to The Carnival Job 4.06 is fair game.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was, Eliot would be shirtless in half the episodes.
Summary: When Eliot has a meltdown during a job, he wonders if the team would be better off without him.
Notes: Written as part of my leverageland Mini-Bang.
Eliot slumped back against the headrest of the van and shut his eyes tightly. The shame and humiliation of his meltdown burned red on his cheeks. His hands, clenched into fists and resting on his lap, were still shaking. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the others watching him, and he was grateful that Hardison was focused on driving Lucille home and not on playing the game of Twenty Questions that Eliot was sure he had going on in his head.
And Parker. Parker was sitting close enough to him that he could feel her breath against his skin. He thought about growling at her to get out of his personal space, but he was too drained and worn out to exert the effort. After they’d been on the road for a few minutes, Eliot thought he heard Sophie whisper something that sounded suspiciously like, “don’t poke,” and then he felt Parker move away. Part of him wished she would poke at him, so he’d feel like things were a little more normal.
Eliot had been on edge ever since he and Nate had first arrived at the mark’s antique shop four days earlier. At the time, he hadn’t been able to pinpoint a reason for the tension, but his skin had started crawling the moment they had walked through the door, and it still hadn’t quite stopped.
He must’ve hidden his nerves well, because no one on the team had said a word. Sure, they had commented on his trademark grouchiness, but if they’d thought he was crankier than usual, they hadn’t mentioned it to him. They had simply sent him off on his own and had trusted him to do his job just like he had always done.
And for the most part, things had gone well. They had conned their way into the mark’s life and had put the wheels of Nate’s plan into motion. It should have been a simple job. In and out. Mission over. Call it a night.
But at the last minute, Nate had decided to send Eliot back to the antique shop to retrieve a list of clients from the mark’s desk. As soon as the request had tumbled from Nate’s lips, Eliot had felt his mouth go dry and his muscles start to tense. He knew damn well he should have told Nate to send someone else. His pride, though, had pushed him silently out the door and off to the shop.
All Eliot could really remember about the next hour or so was arriving at the shop and gazing at an old grandfather clock that had been shoved against a wall near the back of the room. It had been nowhere near the mark’s office, but still, Eliot had felt compelled to walk over and stare at it. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there in a daze before he’d heard Hardison’s voice in his ear asking him if he was okay or before he’d smashed his earbud on the floor with his boot or before he’d completely unraveled and had starting bashing the face of the clock with a nearby candleholder.
But all of the sudden, he’d heard Nate’s voice and had felt a pair of hands grip tightly onto his shoulders. “Eliot,” Nate had said. “Eliot! Can you hear me? You okay?”
And now they were in the van on their way back to the bar, and Eliot was hoping against hope that he wouldn’t have to talk about what had happened in the antique shop.
***
When they finally got back to McRory’s, Eliot heard Parker, Hardison, and Sophie scramble out of the van. He opened his eyes and watched as the three of them headed toward the stairs leading to Nate’s apartment. Nate, who had been in the passenger seat climbed into the back to sit next to Eliot.
Dammit, Eliot thought to himself. The idea of facing the team’s questions was bad enough. But a conversation alone with Nate? That was brutal.
The two men sat silently in the van for a while, and Eliot knew that Nate was probably giving him time to calm down before their little heart-to-heart. Eliot had to admit that for all of Nate’s flaws, he understood his team-and especially Eliot-pretty well.
After about five minutes, Nate finally cleared his throat and said, “Was it a flashback?” His tone of voice was softer than usual, and it threw Eliot more than a little off balance.
Eliot let out a breath and scrubbed his face with his hands. He thought about downplaying the situation, but he owed it to the team to be upfront with them. “Yeah,” he said. “It just hit me like a sucker punch.”
“Do you remember it?”
Licking his lips, Eliot shook his head. “Not really. It was like flashes of… gunfire and… I don’t know.” He closed his eyes and tried to recall some bit or piece that might help him shake this off. “I remember this clock,” he said. “I think it was in a house where I’d gone to… to do a job.”
Eliot could feel his muscles in his neck and shoulders starting to stiffen and his breath getting quicker. Instinctively, he gripped the seam of his blue jeans and tried to will himself to calm down. .
“Hey,” he heard Nate say. “It’s okay. Let it go.”
Eliot swallowed hard and gazed out the window. “I’m sorry, Nate,” he said. “I knew I was feeling jumpy, and I should’ve told you. I probably should have sat this one out.”
“Yeah, you should have told me. But then again, I’d probably have brushed it off and sent you anyway.”
“Maybe.” Eliot feigned a smile and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I should probably get back to my place. Get some sleep.” Or a half-dozen beers and an hour with a punching bag, he thought to himself.
Nate shook his head. “We’re not actually done, Eliot. You had a meltdown during a job, and we still have to deal with that.”
Eliot felt his breath hitch. “I’m fine now, Nate,” he said. “All I need is to shake this off.”
“I think you need to talk to someone.”
Still gripping onto the seam of his jeans, Eliot squirmed in his seat and fought the urge to bolt out of the van. “Not happening, Nate,” he said. “It won’t help. I’ve been down that road before. They’d probably try to drug me up, and we can’t afford that.”
“Eliot…”
“Nate, please.” The words came out as a strangled whisper, and Eliot scolded himself internally for showing such vulnerability. “I just need to shake this off. I need some time alone, and I’ll be okay.”
After a moment, Nate let out a breath. “All right,” he said. “Take a day, and we’ll talk about this some more.”
“What about the job?”
“Parker got the list when we came to get you. All we have is some loose ends to tie up, and Sophie and Hardison can handle that.”
Nodding, Eliot climbed out of the van and walked toward his truck. As he left, he turned back to Nate. “I really am sorry,” he said.
***
Eliot spent the evening and the wee hours of the morning walking back and forth in front of his sofa. You had a meltdown during a job, and we still have to deal with that. You had a meltdown during a job, and we still have to deal with that. The words seemed to repeat in his mind as if on a loop. Nate wasn’t wrong, and Eliot knew it.
He had broken down in the middle of a job, and while nothing other than a grandfather clock had gotten hurt, another slip-up could be disastrous. The freak-out at the antique shop was hardly Eliot’s first flashback. What if it happened again? What if he fell apart in front of some mark’s muscle? What if one of the team was with him?
Biting his bottom lip, Eliot grabbed the duffel bag he kept packed and ready for a quick getaway. He double-checked it to make sure he had everything he needed, then he scribbled a note explaining his departure and walked out the door. He had become a liability to his crew-his family, and he was determined to put some distance between him and them before he got someone killed.
He got as far as his truck before he realized he had nowhere to go and no plan. For years, he had survived as a lone, moving target-always ready to pick up and leave and always ready for a fight. Now, he was just sitting in his truck, staring at his steering wheel and wondering what to do next. Maybe he’d gone too soft. The team all liked to joke that Nate had broken them, but in Eliot’s case, maybe he really had.
After about an hour, Eliot drove himself to the only place that made any sense. Duffel bag in hand, he climbed the stairs to Nate’s place and let himself in. The apartment was dark and silent, and Eliot slumped himself down into a chair and laid his head on the table, suddenly aware of how bone-tired he was.
He woke up to the smell of coffee and the presence of someone else a few feet away. “Nate,” he said blearily. “That you?”
“Yep. You want coffee?”
Eliot sat up and kneaded his muscles with his fingers and knuckles. He’d managed to fall asleep at the table and give himself a monster kink in his neck. “Yeah,” he said. “Coffee sounds awesome.”
A few seconds later, Nate appeared at the kitchen table with two cups of coffee and a couple of donuts. Nodding at the duffel bag that Eliot had dropped by the door, he said, “Running away from home?”
Eliot poked at one of the donuts. “I’m not running. I just… figured it was time for me to disappear before I got one of you killed.”
“You’re not doing a very good job of disappearing,” Nate said. “I know where you are.”
Shrugging, Eliot tore a piece off the donut and dipped it into his coffee. “I didn’t know where to go.” His lips formed a rueful smile. “I think you broke me, Nate.”
Nate clasped his hands in front of him and looked Eliot in the eye. “Listen to me, Eliot. You know what’s happening? You’re still shaking off what went down in the antique shop. You’re off-balance, and you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
“You’re scared. And there’s no shame in that.” He leaned forward and patted one of Eliot’s forearms. “I’m gonna find you someone to talk to.”
Eliot laughed under his breath. “Should I make a list of my crimes and take it on the first visit?”
“We’ll find someone discreet. Either way, running from us isn’t the answer.”
Letting out a breath, Eliot smacked his hand down on the table. “Nate,” he said. “I’m a liability. If I stay on the team, we’re vulnerable. Replacing me would be safer. I have a couple of names you can contact.”
Nate shook his head. “Eliot, you’re family. We’re not replacing you.”
“I’m just the hitter.”
“You’re more than that, and you know it.”
“Don’t give me that, dammit. I’m just a soldier. You can find another one of those.”
Nate folded his arms across his chest. “Let me know when you’re done feeling sorry for yourself.”
Eliot stared at Nate for a long moment, then he turned his attention to a droplet of coffee that had spilled when he’d smacked the table. “My past haunts me all the time,” he said. “I don’t want it to haunt you guys, too. Look what I put Hardison through when he met Damien.” He licked his lips. “Moreau. And I’ve been running into more and more people I know from back in the day. That guy at the carnival? I knew him.”
“Well, that was bound to happen.” Nate walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of orange juice. “You want some?”
“No.”
“You should be impressed. I haven’t had a drop of whiskey this morning.” He walked back to the table and put a hand on Eliot’s shoulder. “We haven’t really talked much about Moreau. Or what happened in the warehouse.”
“No, I guess we haven’t.”
“Have things gotten worse since all of that went down?”
Eliot scrubbed his hands over his face. Of course things had gotten worse. Seeing Damien again he could have handled. But in the warehouse, he’d been forced to become the man he used to be. He fleetingly wondered if that’s what Damien had wanted all along. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I guess they have.”
Sliding into a chair next to Eliot, Nate gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I never should have let you pick up that gun.”
“We’d both be dead if I hadn’t.”
They sat silently for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair. “You’re right,” he said. “I’d definitely be dead. I’m not because you were willing to go somewhere you didn’t want to go to save me.”
“I’m still a liability.”
“Eliot, come on. I’m a liability. I’m a drunk with control issues. And Parker. Well, she’s… Parker. And Hardison. He’s always going overboard on cons-captured by Russians? Really? And if our near miss with an exploding flower pot has taught us anything, it’s that Sophie has a past of her own. We’re all liabilities. That’s why we have each other.”
“With me, it’s different.”
“Is it?” Nate emptied his orange juice and sat the glass on the table. “You know what I think? I think you’re worried about more than what could happen. I mean, that possibility has always been there. I think you’re pride took a hit because we all saw you fall apart, and you feel exposed now.”
Eliot swallowed. “I don’t like to feel vulnerable,” he said softly.
“Well, I got news for you. The team’s well aware that you’re a human being. I don’t think you give us enough credit.” Shaking his head, Nate stared intently at Eliot. “You take on all the responsibility for protecting the rest of us, but we’re a team. Let us protect you once in a while.”
“What if I have another flashback during a job?”
“Then you do, and we handle it. We’re all liabilities when we’re alone. Together we can pick up each other’s slack."
Master Fic List
Author: sheryden
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2420
Spoilers: Anything up to The Carnival Job 4.06 is fair game.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was, Eliot would be shirtless in half the episodes.
Summary: When Eliot has a meltdown during a job, he wonders if the team would be better off without him.
Notes: Written as part of my leverageland Mini-Bang.
Eliot slumped back against the headrest of the van and shut his eyes tightly. The shame and humiliation of his meltdown burned red on his cheeks. His hands, clenched into fists and resting on his lap, were still shaking. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the others watching him, and he was grateful that Hardison was focused on driving Lucille home and not on playing the game of Twenty Questions that Eliot was sure he had going on in his head.
And Parker. Parker was sitting close enough to him that he could feel her breath against his skin. He thought about growling at her to get out of his personal space, but he was too drained and worn out to exert the effort. After they’d been on the road for a few minutes, Eliot thought he heard Sophie whisper something that sounded suspiciously like, “don’t poke,” and then he felt Parker move away. Part of him wished she would poke at him, so he’d feel like things were a little more normal.
Eliot had been on edge ever since he and Nate had first arrived at the mark’s antique shop four days earlier. At the time, he hadn’t been able to pinpoint a reason for the tension, but his skin had started crawling the moment they had walked through the door, and it still hadn’t quite stopped.
He must’ve hidden his nerves well, because no one on the team had said a word. Sure, they had commented on his trademark grouchiness, but if they’d thought he was crankier than usual, they hadn’t mentioned it to him. They had simply sent him off on his own and had trusted him to do his job just like he had always done.
And for the most part, things had gone well. They had conned their way into the mark’s life and had put the wheels of Nate’s plan into motion. It should have been a simple job. In and out. Mission over. Call it a night.
But at the last minute, Nate had decided to send Eliot back to the antique shop to retrieve a list of clients from the mark’s desk. As soon as the request had tumbled from Nate’s lips, Eliot had felt his mouth go dry and his muscles start to tense. He knew damn well he should have told Nate to send someone else. His pride, though, had pushed him silently out the door and off to the shop.
All Eliot could really remember about the next hour or so was arriving at the shop and gazing at an old grandfather clock that had been shoved against a wall near the back of the room. It had been nowhere near the mark’s office, but still, Eliot had felt compelled to walk over and stare at it. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there in a daze before he’d heard Hardison’s voice in his ear asking him if he was okay or before he’d smashed his earbud on the floor with his boot or before he’d completely unraveled and had starting bashing the face of the clock with a nearby candleholder.
But all of the sudden, he’d heard Nate’s voice and had felt a pair of hands grip tightly onto his shoulders. “Eliot,” Nate had said. “Eliot! Can you hear me? You okay?”
And now they were in the van on their way back to the bar, and Eliot was hoping against hope that he wouldn’t have to talk about what had happened in the antique shop.
***
When they finally got back to McRory’s, Eliot heard Parker, Hardison, and Sophie scramble out of the van. He opened his eyes and watched as the three of them headed toward the stairs leading to Nate’s apartment. Nate, who had been in the passenger seat climbed into the back to sit next to Eliot.
Dammit, Eliot thought to himself. The idea of facing the team’s questions was bad enough. But a conversation alone with Nate? That was brutal.
The two men sat silently in the van for a while, and Eliot knew that Nate was probably giving him time to calm down before their little heart-to-heart. Eliot had to admit that for all of Nate’s flaws, he understood his team-and especially Eliot-pretty well.
After about five minutes, Nate finally cleared his throat and said, “Was it a flashback?” His tone of voice was softer than usual, and it threw Eliot more than a little off balance.
Eliot let out a breath and scrubbed his face with his hands. He thought about downplaying the situation, but he owed it to the team to be upfront with them. “Yeah,” he said. “It just hit me like a sucker punch.”
“Do you remember it?”
Licking his lips, Eliot shook his head. “Not really. It was like flashes of… gunfire and… I don’t know.” He closed his eyes and tried to recall some bit or piece that might help him shake this off. “I remember this clock,” he said. “I think it was in a house where I’d gone to… to do a job.”
Eliot could feel his muscles in his neck and shoulders starting to stiffen and his breath getting quicker. Instinctively, he gripped the seam of his blue jeans and tried to will himself to calm down. .
“Hey,” he heard Nate say. “It’s okay. Let it go.”
Eliot swallowed hard and gazed out the window. “I’m sorry, Nate,” he said. “I knew I was feeling jumpy, and I should’ve told you. I probably should have sat this one out.”
“Yeah, you should have told me. But then again, I’d probably have brushed it off and sent you anyway.”
“Maybe.” Eliot feigned a smile and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I should probably get back to my place. Get some sleep.” Or a half-dozen beers and an hour with a punching bag, he thought to himself.
Nate shook his head. “We’re not actually done, Eliot. You had a meltdown during a job, and we still have to deal with that.”
Eliot felt his breath hitch. “I’m fine now, Nate,” he said. “All I need is to shake this off.”
“I think you need to talk to someone.”
Still gripping onto the seam of his jeans, Eliot squirmed in his seat and fought the urge to bolt out of the van. “Not happening, Nate,” he said. “It won’t help. I’ve been down that road before. They’d probably try to drug me up, and we can’t afford that.”
“Eliot…”
“Nate, please.” The words came out as a strangled whisper, and Eliot scolded himself internally for showing such vulnerability. “I just need to shake this off. I need some time alone, and I’ll be okay.”
After a moment, Nate let out a breath. “All right,” he said. “Take a day, and we’ll talk about this some more.”
“What about the job?”
“Parker got the list when we came to get you. All we have is some loose ends to tie up, and Sophie and Hardison can handle that.”
Nodding, Eliot climbed out of the van and walked toward his truck. As he left, he turned back to Nate. “I really am sorry,” he said.
***
Eliot spent the evening and the wee hours of the morning walking back and forth in front of his sofa. You had a meltdown during a job, and we still have to deal with that. You had a meltdown during a job, and we still have to deal with that. The words seemed to repeat in his mind as if on a loop. Nate wasn’t wrong, and Eliot knew it.
He had broken down in the middle of a job, and while nothing other than a grandfather clock had gotten hurt, another slip-up could be disastrous. The freak-out at the antique shop was hardly Eliot’s first flashback. What if it happened again? What if he fell apart in front of some mark’s muscle? What if one of the team was with him?
Biting his bottom lip, Eliot grabbed the duffel bag he kept packed and ready for a quick getaway. He double-checked it to make sure he had everything he needed, then he scribbled a note explaining his departure and walked out the door. He had become a liability to his crew-his family, and he was determined to put some distance between him and them before he got someone killed.
He got as far as his truck before he realized he had nowhere to go and no plan. For years, he had survived as a lone, moving target-always ready to pick up and leave and always ready for a fight. Now, he was just sitting in his truck, staring at his steering wheel and wondering what to do next. Maybe he’d gone too soft. The team all liked to joke that Nate had broken them, but in Eliot’s case, maybe he really had.
After about an hour, Eliot drove himself to the only place that made any sense. Duffel bag in hand, he climbed the stairs to Nate’s place and let himself in. The apartment was dark and silent, and Eliot slumped himself down into a chair and laid his head on the table, suddenly aware of how bone-tired he was.
He woke up to the smell of coffee and the presence of someone else a few feet away. “Nate,” he said blearily. “That you?”
“Yep. You want coffee?”
Eliot sat up and kneaded his muscles with his fingers and knuckles. He’d managed to fall asleep at the table and give himself a monster kink in his neck. “Yeah,” he said. “Coffee sounds awesome.”
A few seconds later, Nate appeared at the kitchen table with two cups of coffee and a couple of donuts. Nodding at the duffel bag that Eliot had dropped by the door, he said, “Running away from home?”
Eliot poked at one of the donuts. “I’m not running. I just… figured it was time for me to disappear before I got one of you killed.”
“You’re not doing a very good job of disappearing,” Nate said. “I know where you are.”
Shrugging, Eliot tore a piece off the donut and dipped it into his coffee. “I didn’t know where to go.” His lips formed a rueful smile. “I think you broke me, Nate.”
Nate clasped his hands in front of him and looked Eliot in the eye. “Listen to me, Eliot. You know what’s happening? You’re still shaking off what went down in the antique shop. You’re off-balance, and you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
“You’re scared. And there’s no shame in that.” He leaned forward and patted one of Eliot’s forearms. “I’m gonna find you someone to talk to.”
Eliot laughed under his breath. “Should I make a list of my crimes and take it on the first visit?”
“We’ll find someone discreet. Either way, running from us isn’t the answer.”
Letting out a breath, Eliot smacked his hand down on the table. “Nate,” he said. “I’m a liability. If I stay on the team, we’re vulnerable. Replacing me would be safer. I have a couple of names you can contact.”
Nate shook his head. “Eliot, you’re family. We’re not replacing you.”
“I’m just the hitter.”
“You’re more than that, and you know it.”
“Don’t give me that, dammit. I’m just a soldier. You can find another one of those.”
Nate folded his arms across his chest. “Let me know when you’re done feeling sorry for yourself.”
Eliot stared at Nate for a long moment, then he turned his attention to a droplet of coffee that had spilled when he’d smacked the table. “My past haunts me all the time,” he said. “I don’t want it to haunt you guys, too. Look what I put Hardison through when he met Damien.” He licked his lips. “Moreau. And I’ve been running into more and more people I know from back in the day. That guy at the carnival? I knew him.”
“Well, that was bound to happen.” Nate walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of orange juice. “You want some?”
“No.”
“You should be impressed. I haven’t had a drop of whiskey this morning.” He walked back to the table and put a hand on Eliot’s shoulder. “We haven’t really talked much about Moreau. Or what happened in the warehouse.”
“No, I guess we haven’t.”
“Have things gotten worse since all of that went down?”
Eliot scrubbed his hands over his face. Of course things had gotten worse. Seeing Damien again he could have handled. But in the warehouse, he’d been forced to become the man he used to be. He fleetingly wondered if that’s what Damien had wanted all along. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I guess they have.”
Sliding into a chair next to Eliot, Nate gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I never should have let you pick up that gun.”
“We’d both be dead if I hadn’t.”
They sat silently for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair. “You’re right,” he said. “I’d definitely be dead. I’m not because you were willing to go somewhere you didn’t want to go to save me.”
“I’m still a liability.”
“Eliot, come on. I’m a liability. I’m a drunk with control issues. And Parker. Well, she’s… Parker. And Hardison. He’s always going overboard on cons-captured by Russians? Really? And if our near miss with an exploding flower pot has taught us anything, it’s that Sophie has a past of her own. We’re all liabilities. That’s why we have each other.”
“With me, it’s different.”
“Is it?” Nate emptied his orange juice and sat the glass on the table. “You know what I think? I think you’re worried about more than what could happen. I mean, that possibility has always been there. I think you’re pride took a hit because we all saw you fall apart, and you feel exposed now.”
Eliot swallowed. “I don’t like to feel vulnerable,” he said softly.
“Well, I got news for you. The team’s well aware that you’re a human being. I don’t think you give us enough credit.” Shaking his head, Nate stared intently at Eliot. “You take on all the responsibility for protecting the rest of us, but we’re a team. Let us protect you once in a while.”
“What if I have another flashback during a job?”
“Then you do, and we handle it. We’re all liabilities when we’re alone. Together we can pick up each other’s slack."
Master Fic List