(no subject)
6/4/11 09:09![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
telarynTitle: Picking Up the Pieces
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
telaryn
Word Count: 769
Fandom: Leverage
Characters: Team fic with Eliot POV
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Hospital setting, team member critically injured.
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: When Eliot makes a mistake, the wrong people end up hurt.
Author's Note: Written for angst_bingo, for the prompt "Burns".
He’d walked into the emergency room. Hours later, Eliot still couldn’t manage to budge his thoughts off that one out of place fact. He’d walked into the emergency room under his own power; three cracked ribs, a broken arm and superficial burns on his back and legs. The staff had treated him, set his arm and run him through the trifecta of CAT scan, X-ray and MRI, but everyone knew it was a formality. He was handed scrips for painkillers he knew he’d never take, given a form of standard instructions he’d memorized over the years, and checked out without argument or complaint.
He hadn’t gone immediately to find the others, instead seeking what privacy he could on a bench outside the entrance to the ER. In the absence of crippling injuries keeping him in place, Eliot knew from bitter, painful experience that he needed time and space to understand what had gone wrong and why.
Hands, stronger than he’d expected, dragging him to the ground. He’d missed the detonator – an understandable mistake, if not entirely forgivable. Body pressing him down, shielding him from the blast…saved instead of savior this time.
He raised a hand to rub his suddenly aching eyes and grimaced when he realized he was shaking. Your fault. It was the most basic rule of his life – when he screwed up, the wrong people got hurt. Or killed.
“He shouldn’t have done it.”
“You’d be tiny little pieces of Eliot right now if he hadn’t.”
Eliot glanced up and saw Parker leaning against a nearby column. “And he wouldn’t be in the burn unit right now, with all of us wondering if he’s gonna make it.”
Parker scowled. “You say that like it would be okay.”
He started to tell her that it would have been okay – certainly more okay than what they were stuck with. It’s my job. It’s what I’m supposed to do. “Did you want anything in particular?” he asked finally. Trying to explain his thought processes to Parker right now was not conducive to his mental health. The best case scenario was that she wouldn’t understand.
Worst case? She would.
“You need to come back inside,” the thief said.
Eliot half turned away from her, looking out over the parking lot. “In a bit.”
“No,” Parker said, stepping in his line of sight. “Now. The doctors say he could wake up any time, and the first thing he’s going to ask is are you all right?” She paused. “You have to be there to show him you’re all right.”
Looking at her, Eliot realized with a start that this was a Parker they rarely saw anymore. Her fatigue and worry aside, this was the Parker who’d threatened to drop Tara off a multi-story building. It was the Parker who’d held a gun on them a lifetime ago because she thought they were trying to cheat her.
She met his gaze squarely, knowing immediately what he was seeing in her. “Get over it,” she said. “Nobody gives a shit about your guilty conscience right now.”
************
The waiting area outside the burn unit was small – a scattering of chairs and a vending machine that looked as though it hadn’t been service in decades. Sophie was sitting in one of the chairs when they entered, cradling a steaming mug of something in her hands and staring blankly into space.
She seemed to come back to life as soon as she registered Eliot drafting in Parker’s wake. “How are you feeling?” she asked, setting her mug aside and getting to her feet.
Eliot shrugged dismissively, uncomfortable with her concern. “Easiest ER visit I think I’ve ever had. How’re things up here?”
Sophie smiled weakly. “No fights with the staff yet, but it’s been a near thing.”
“I’m surprised he’s still here,” Eliot said, walking over to the window. He spotted Nate immediately; even with the mandatory gown and gloves that made him look like nearly every other upright person in the room. “Figured he would have bolted at the first opportunity.” Their leader’s hatred of hospitals bordered on the pathological. The fact that he was still here, and that he was the one at Hardison’s bedside…
Sophie came up beside him. “He keeps saying he’s not going to leave until Hardison wakes up.”
Eliot glanced at her. “That could be a really long time, Soph.” He realized a moment later that not only did she already know that – she was counting on Eliot to do his job.
Protect the team. Even if, in Nate’s case, the person he needed protection from was himself.
Author:
telarynWord Count: 769
Fandom: Leverage
Characters: Team fic with Eliot POV
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Hospital setting, team member critically injured.
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit obtained.
Summary: When Eliot makes a mistake, the wrong people end up hurt.
Author's Note: Written for angst_bingo, for the prompt "Burns".
He’d walked into the emergency room. Hours later, Eliot still couldn’t manage to budge his thoughts off that one out of place fact. He’d walked into the emergency room under his own power; three cracked ribs, a broken arm and superficial burns on his back and legs. The staff had treated him, set his arm and run him through the trifecta of CAT scan, X-ray and MRI, but everyone knew it was a formality. He was handed scrips for painkillers he knew he’d never take, given a form of standard instructions he’d memorized over the years, and checked out without argument or complaint.
He hadn’t gone immediately to find the others, instead seeking what privacy he could on a bench outside the entrance to the ER. In the absence of crippling injuries keeping him in place, Eliot knew from bitter, painful experience that he needed time and space to understand what had gone wrong and why.
Hands, stronger than he’d expected, dragging him to the ground. He’d missed the detonator – an understandable mistake, if not entirely forgivable. Body pressing him down, shielding him from the blast…saved instead of savior this time.
He raised a hand to rub his suddenly aching eyes and grimaced when he realized he was shaking. Your fault. It was the most basic rule of his life – when he screwed up, the wrong people got hurt. Or killed.
“He shouldn’t have done it.”
“You’d be tiny little pieces of Eliot right now if he hadn’t.”
Eliot glanced up and saw Parker leaning against a nearby column. “And he wouldn’t be in the burn unit right now, with all of us wondering if he’s gonna make it.”
Parker scowled. “You say that like it would be okay.”
He started to tell her that it would have been okay – certainly more okay than what they were stuck with. It’s my job. It’s what I’m supposed to do. “Did you want anything in particular?” he asked finally. Trying to explain his thought processes to Parker right now was not conducive to his mental health. The best case scenario was that she wouldn’t understand.
Worst case? She would.
“You need to come back inside,” the thief said.
Eliot half turned away from her, looking out over the parking lot. “In a bit.”
“No,” Parker said, stepping in his line of sight. “Now. The doctors say he could wake up any time, and the first thing he’s going to ask is are you all right?” She paused. “You have to be there to show him you’re all right.”
Looking at her, Eliot realized with a start that this was a Parker they rarely saw anymore. Her fatigue and worry aside, this was the Parker who’d threatened to drop Tara off a multi-story building. It was the Parker who’d held a gun on them a lifetime ago because she thought they were trying to cheat her.
She met his gaze squarely, knowing immediately what he was seeing in her. “Get over it,” she said. “Nobody gives a shit about your guilty conscience right now.”
************
The waiting area outside the burn unit was small – a scattering of chairs and a vending machine that looked as though it hadn’t been service in decades. Sophie was sitting in one of the chairs when they entered, cradling a steaming mug of something in her hands and staring blankly into space.
She seemed to come back to life as soon as she registered Eliot drafting in Parker’s wake. “How are you feeling?” she asked, setting her mug aside and getting to her feet.
Eliot shrugged dismissively, uncomfortable with her concern. “Easiest ER visit I think I’ve ever had. How’re things up here?”
Sophie smiled weakly. “No fights with the staff yet, but it’s been a near thing.”
“I’m surprised he’s still here,” Eliot said, walking over to the window. He spotted Nate immediately; even with the mandatory gown and gloves that made him look like nearly every other upright person in the room. “Figured he would have bolted at the first opportunity.” Their leader’s hatred of hospitals bordered on the pathological. The fact that he was still here, and that he was the one at Hardison’s bedside…
Sophie came up beside him. “He keeps saying he’s not going to leave until Hardison wakes up.”
Eliot glanced at her. “That could be a really long time, Soph.” He realized a moment later that not only did she already know that – she was counting on Eliot to do his job.
Protect the team. Even if, in Nate’s case, the person he needed protection from was himself.
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
6/4/11 13:29 (UTC)Awesome Parker.
Is it Heist time yet? *grins*
(no subject)
7/4/11 21:13 (UTC)*g*
(no subject)
7/4/11 12:21 (UTC)This is wonderful honey, as always, and so perfectly Eliot to see himself as, ultimately, expendable whilst none of the others are.
And Parker? You go girl!
(no subject)
7/4/11 21:14 (UTC)(no subject)
8/4/11 05:42 (UTC)(no subject)
8/4/11 13:14 (UTC)(no subject)
9/4/11 06:37 (UTC)