And here we are, the weekend once more! Which brings us round to one of our favorite days, of course - the Free For All. Which means all fandoms, pairings, and prompts are good to go
( Read more... )
Not sure this was what you were looking for, but it’s what came out. ==== He didn’t have the vaguest fuckin’ clue when it had happened. Or how. Or why he had let it happen. Because he knew better, right?
Right?!
Apparently not.
Because these people … these people … they were all fuckin’ crazy in their own severely messed-up ways-
And he had just let them in. Let them into his life, into his thoughts, hell, into whatever passed these days for his heart-
Well, hell, who would have known that he was crazy, too? Because that would have to be the only reason he was still here, still with them … and still with no plans to be anywhere else.
And still … fuckin’ hell … okay with that.
Crazy, right? Maybe even like Parker-level crazy.
Damn.
Because he did not do the caring thing. He did not do the family thing. Hell, he had a sister - real, honest-to-God kin - that he saw maybe once in a blue moon. It was just safer for her and her kid not to have him in their lives. And, okay, safer for him.
Because, y’know, family was a liability, a vulnerability, a weakness to be exploited. And Eliot fuckin’ Spencer did not do weakness. Or vulnerability. It was dangerous.
And, y’know, messy.
Like worryin’ about Nate when he’d been happily drinking himself to death. And then feeling … Jesus … happy when the man had stopped. Because then he wouldn’t have to watch - fuckin’ hell - a friend die. And how fucked was that?
Since when did he have friends?!
Well, clearly since he’d started hurting for Sophie and all the shit she’d been going through. And then feeling like part of his world had been ripped away when she’d left.
Yeah, the grifter who’d betrayed them all that one time? Had gotten them busted by Sterling and forced them all to split? That grifter?
Except that Sophie wasn’t that grifter anymore … and he couldn’t help thinking about her. Worrying about her. Wondering if - and, God, somebody please kill him now - if she’d ever come back and, Jesus fuckin’ Christ, make the family whole again.
Because, seriously, Parker and Hardison needed her. Parker especially. The girl flat out needed Sophie, wasn’t quite right - even for Parker - without her, and seeing that pale, pinched face and those lost, haunted eyes-
Hurt him. In ways he hadn’t even known were possible anymore. Hell, who knew he could feel, much less hurt?
But he did. Hurt. And feel. And care.
Had cared about Hardison when the damn fool kid had gotten so badly over his head in the Carity job that, against his own better judgment, and to his own surprise, he’d made a liar of himself and helped the idiot out of his jam. Hell, he’d given up court-side seats to do it!
Like, y’know, Hardison mattered to him or something.
Like any of them did.
Like … they all did. Mattered more than he could say, more than he cared to admit. More than he ever would admit, even under pain of torture.
Which, shit, was pretty much what they all were, right? Torture of a kind even he had never experienced on a daily basis? Crazy as loons, all of them, broken in ways not all the superglue in the world could fix and just plain hell on his nerves-
And his, every one of them. Just like he was theirs.
Because, fuck yeah, he was crazy, too, bent and twisted and broken, and still so much theirs that sometimes that hurt, too.
He didn’t have the vaguest fuckin’ clue when it had happened. Or how. Or why he had let it happen.
But he had, and it was too late for second thoughts now. All he could do was just … go with it.
He was Eliot fuckin’ Spencer … and even he knew when it was time to surrender.
There are many scenarios possible with that one word. Eliot letting himself care for the team I hadn't thought of (more him outnumbered and having to surrender) but it fits perfectly with what's happening in canon.
====
He didn’t have the vaguest fuckin’ clue when it had happened. Or how. Or why he had let it happen. Because he knew better, right?
Right?!
Apparently not.
Because these people … these people … they were all fuckin’ crazy in their own severely messed-up ways-
And he had just let them in. Let them into his life, into his thoughts, hell, into whatever passed these days for his heart-
Well, hell, who would have known that he was crazy, too? Because that would have to be the only reason he was still here, still with them … and still with no plans to be anywhere else.
And still … fuckin’ hell … okay with that.
Crazy, right? Maybe even like Parker-level crazy.
Damn.
Because he did not do the caring thing. He did not do the family thing. Hell, he had a sister - real, honest-to-God kin - that he saw maybe once in a blue moon. It was just safer for her and her kid not to have him in their lives. And, okay, safer for him.
Because, y’know, family was a liability, a vulnerability, a weakness to be exploited. And Eliot fuckin’ Spencer did not do weakness. Or vulnerability. It was dangerous.
And, y’know, messy.
Like worryin’ about Nate when he’d been happily drinking himself to death. And then feeling … Jesus … happy when the man had stopped. Because then he wouldn’t have to watch - fuckin’ hell - a friend die. And how fucked was that?
Since when did he have friends?!
Well, clearly since he’d started hurting for Sophie and all the shit she’d been going through. And then feeling like part of his world had been ripped away when she’d left.
Yeah, the grifter who’d betrayed them all that one time? Had gotten them busted by Sterling and forced them all to split? That grifter?
Except that Sophie wasn’t that grifter anymore … and he couldn’t help thinking about her. Worrying about her. Wondering if - and, God, somebody please kill him now - if she’d ever come back and, Jesus fuckin’ Christ, make the family whole again.
Because, seriously, Parker and Hardison needed her. Parker especially. The girl flat out needed Sophie, wasn’t quite right - even for Parker - without her, and seeing that pale, pinched face and those lost, haunted eyes-
Hurt him. In ways he hadn’t even known were possible anymore. Hell, who knew he could feel, much less hurt?
But he did. Hurt. And feel. And care.
Had cared about Hardison when the damn fool kid had gotten so badly over his head in the Carity job that, against his own better judgment, and to his own surprise, he’d made a liar of himself and helped the idiot out of his jam. Hell, he’d given up court-side seats to do it!
Like, y’know, Hardison mattered to him or something.
Like any of them did.
Like … they all did. Mattered more than he could say, more than he cared to admit. More than he ever would admit, even under pain of torture.
Which, shit, was pretty much what they all were, right? Torture of a kind even he had never experienced on a daily basis? Crazy as loons, all of them, broken in ways not all the superglue in the world could fix and just plain hell on his nerves-
And his, every one of them. Just like he was theirs.
Because, fuck yeah, he was crazy, too, bent and twisted and broken, and still so much theirs that sometimes that hurt, too.
He didn’t have the vaguest fuckin’ clue when it had happened. Or how. Or why he had let it happen.
But he had, and it was too late for second thoughts now. All he could do was just … go with it.
He was Eliot fuckin’ Spencer … and even he knew when it was time to surrender.
Reply
There are many scenarios possible with that one word. Eliot letting himself care for the team I hadn't thought of (more him outnumbered and having to surrender) but it fits perfectly with what's happening in canon.
Thank You!
Reply
But, yeah, the Eliot outnumbered thing is interesting, too. Exactly what would it take for Eliot to surrender in a fight? Hmmm …
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment