Two Knight's Closing: She Don't Want the World
Title: Two Knight's Closing: She Don't Want the World
Author: Magpie
Rating: pg-13
Genre: Nate/Eliot, referenced pre-series Eliot/OMC, later Parker/Hardison
Verse: BlackKing!WhiteKnight!Verse
Summary: Those who forget the past will be doomed to repeat it.
Notes: Much praise and thanks to my beta: LMX_v3point3
This chapter is brought to you in part by She Don't Want the World.
Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
Los Angeles, CA
Sixteen years ago
There were times when Tara wondered who she might have been or where she might have gone if she hadn’t been chosen as part of The Project, or even if when it dispersed and the survivors were dishonorably discharged she had gone quietly into the night and slipped back into normal society.
And then there were other nights when she felt like this was fate.
Like all her life had lead her to the youth center in L.A., like she was meant to end up meeting those two desperate teenage boys and helping them bring down that second project and somehow transform her whole world.
That she was meant to be here, in a booth in a bar, with Charlie teasing Echo about the fact he was still too young to drink with them, the lights dim but the air warm, wrapped around them.
Her whole world in this little booth in this little bar in this huge city in this strange world of other people who weren’t them.
Who weren’t us.
The conversation flowed back and forth between them. Work, banter, sports, music, fake taunts, and completely understood subtext. They said everything and they said nothing and neither was really needed because they’d been through hell and back and now they’d found a place where, when they were together, the world stood still and they just were.
And even if Echo and Charlie had to hide the love that bound them together from a world that judged, and the three of them shared something beyond what might be considered traditional in any sense of the word.
Even if they all worked in the criminal underworld and the work they talked about so light-heartedly came very close to killing at least one of them on a regular basis.
Even if not one of them existed as far as most of the world was concerned and they would always be exiled to this underworld of thieves and conmen.
Even despite all of that, she knew on nights like tonight that somehow she had found home, and family, and the answers to all those questions that had been floating around her head for the twenty three years she’d been alive before she heard that Samuel was up to no good in L.A.
She looked toward the future, seeing their life stretch out and on just like this.
And she didn’t think she could think of any other way she’d rather have it.
Los Angeles, CA
Present Day
Tara stirred from the daydream, turning away from the boarded up building that had once been a small bar patronized by locals and three young thieves.
It had been a long time since she’d let herself remember those days. For a long time it had been painful, remembering how powerful that sense of belonging was in the face of a world where she knew she’d probably never find it again. Even if she’d found some respite with Sophie and learning the art of the con and much more and even with the connection she had maintained with Charlie through the years, she knew she’d never be able to go back there.
It had taken a long time but she’d learned to let go of that, learned the fine art of being alone as Echo had once called it.
And she’d shut those memories away where they wouldn’t remind her of what she’d lost.
But the team… there were some days when the team almost reminded her of Charlie and Echo, when she watched Eliot, Parker, and Hardison and had to blink away a memory.
Even before Charlie had confirmed her suspicions about Eliot.
And now with all of this…
She shook her head, shaking off the memory, the past, and the train of thought entirely. She needed to focus and keep her head in the game and remember that when all of this was over Eliot would probably still have no memory of that and really she should let it stay that way.
It had practically been Charlie’s dying wish to let it stay that way.
Just keep moving forward, she told herself again, keep putting one foot in front of the other and don’t look back. The usual drill.
She turned away and continued down the street, keeping to the safety of the shadows. It was early in the morning, long before the sun would rise, and she was killing time before Nate got here, too restless to sleep and not wanting to dream anyway…
She stopped halfway through a thought suddenly getting the sense that she was being watched.
She continued down the street, not giving away that she was aware that anything was amiss but searching about for signs of a tail.
She didn’t expect to turn the corner and walk almost straight into someone.
He was a man, mid-thirties, strong build, skin tone suggesting far eastern origins.
Something about the face seemed familiar.
“Bravo?” she asked, the word slipping past her lips in surprise. She hadn’t seen the boy in close to twenty years but she was almost sure.
He nodded. “Hello Tara.”
A smile spread across her face. “What are you doing here? Last I heard from Charlie you were pulling that retrieval in Peru. How’d you end up in L.A.?”
“Same as you I’d guess.” His smile faded. “Samuel.”
“You heard about Charlie then,” Tara stated. “Well as glad as I am to see you you should probably get out of town. From what I can tell Samuel’s up to his usual and I don’t need you getting caught in the cross fire.”
He shook his head, a strange look on his face as he reached a hand out to settle on her shoulder.
She could feel him shaking.
Her eyes widened as he whispered; “It’s a little late for that.”
Tara stood her ground. Turning to run would only trigger his conditioning into full force. She took a breath ready to say the safe word, put him down without hurting him and get the hell away.
“I’m the first one he found,” Bravo said, trying to force himself to hold on a little longer. In the dim light of the street lamps she could see his pupils dilating. “Charlie found me. Tried to get me out again…my fault he’s...” He trailed off, mind starting to slip away and Tara reached out to close a hand around his, pulling him back just a little longer. Bravo blinked at her. “Only one he found… but he heard… talked about Echo coming back. Think Echo’s in LA.” Bravo’s eyes widened. “Find him first.”
Before Tara could react the switch in Bravo’s head flipped and his other hand hit her hard in the solar plexus, knocking the air out of her lungs.
She stumbled back, trying to pull in a gasp of air enough to say the safe words, take Bravo down, but he moved with her. A second blow to her stomach, one to her shoulder, she barely avoided the legs trying to sweep her feet out from under her.
Like Eliot, Bravo had gone into the hitter’s line and his fighting skills had only improved over the years.
A fifth blow landed and she felt a rib nearly give way, she was keeping her guard up so he couldn’t strike a knockout blow but faltering that for even a second would probably result in her getting taken down.
And she wouldn’t last long like this.
She sidestepped the next blow, striking out with her left arm. “Bravo. Check in,” She commanded, her voice as stable as she could manage as Bravo caught her arm, twisting as he struck the next blow.
Breath almost caught in her throat as she felt something in her shoulder jerk, pop, and tear but she bit down the noise of pain as Bravo stilled just for a moment, conditioning kicking in. “Somno. At ease Student.”
She watched as Bravo’s eyes unfocused, faltering, before he seemed to start to shake it off.
Well. Fuck.
“Somno. At ease Student” She repeated, taking a careful step forward, reaching out a hand to run through his hair.
It was a fucking creepy thing about Samuel but he tended to use physical gestures to calm the students, she’d learned from Echo and Charlie gentle physical contact could increase the effectiveness of a safeword.
And if that didn’t work she’d be lined up to knock him out the old fashioned way.
“At ea-“ Her words left in a strangled shout as Bravo’s hand shot out, the blade in it digging into her side before she even registered it. Not letting herself react to the sudden trauma she jerked forward, striking out as hard and fast as she could, knocking Bravo out.
She didn’t allow herself time to catch her breath, adrenalin was masking a good deal of the pain she should be in and the moment that faded her functionality would quickly reduce.
Her shoulder needed to be popped back into place and she needed to stop the bleeding from the knife wound and she needed to get far away from here before Bravo came to or someone came looking for him.
She reached for her cell phone, fumbling with it before finding the number she’d never thought she’d actually use.
She hesitated only a second, she already knew what her other options were and this was the best of bad options.
“Hello?” The voice answered after the third ring, sleep slurred but not angry.
“Maggie?” Tara asked. “Hey. I’m in L.A. and I…”
“You’re hurt and the team can’t get you?” Maggie asked, already sounding more awake.
Tara would have laughed, the situation seemed absurdly funny somehow, but she was pretty sure it would hurt and that the fact it seemed so funny was probably a bad sign. “Yeah. Nate won’t get here ‘til morning. No one else is coming.”
“Where are you?” She asked. “And I suppose calling you an ambulance isn’t an option.” It was a statement not a question.
Tara looked around, trying to find somewhere safe... well safer, to hole up while Maggie got there.
The bar.
She gave the location of the old bar, already moving.
“I’m on my way,” Maggie told her and she must have sounded bad if Maggie’s voice was any indication. “But I’m on the far side of the city. It may be awhile.”
Tara said something, she didn’t remember what seconds after she said it, and hung up. Her eyes focused further up the street in the direction of her destination.
The usual drill.
oOo
Later she wouldn’t really remember the long walk to the bar, or how much time it took, or how exactly she broke into the place.
She’d only vaguely remember instinctively making her way to the corner where Their booth had once sat, leaning against the wall and trying to do what she could for her injuries.
She’d remember the bright flashpain of relocating her shoulder, the slow and deadly burn of the wound in her side and the way it would flare white hot at odd times.
She’d remember her head growing light and her limbs growing heavy and how she’d wondered how much better she’d be fairing if she’d eaten or slept at all in the past forty eight hours.
She’d remember looking up and seeing Echo there, looking worried, and knowing that the fact she was hallucinating was Not Good with capital letters and Hardison’s voice providing extra emphasis.
She’d remember laughter, the oddly hysteric kind, when she realized Hardison had hacked his way into her brain with the others and she needed to spend less time with the team. Her ribs and side then made her pay for breaking the shallow breathing pattern and she wondered if maybe she did have a broken rib.
Then Charlie was there at her side, telling her the same thing he always did, and she muttered back that yeah, she knew, focus on the usual.
Then Echo curled in next to her and Charlie sat down and she closed her eyes, focusing on breathing.
The usual drill.
oOo
In the back of their minds they’d known something was wrong. Their fears had already aided the roll call of worst case scenarios that had been playing out in their minds in the time since they found Echo’s apartment unlocked and signs of a struggle inside.
Rationally, they’d known the moment they saw the police tape what they’d find.
They had to wait until the police moved on. They both had fake identities but neither would hold up for long.
While they were waiting they saw the body bag brought out by the cops, the right size for Echo.
They also saw two rookie cops throwing up outside.
They’d known what had happened.
But now they were standing here, staring at a blood stain on concrete, scuff marks from where a chair had been, the smell of burnt flesh and piss making even them gag.
In the morning they’d con their way into the police precinct, find out that among the evidence collected was half a set of Dog Tags belonging to Tara Cole, an ex-marine killed in a drive-by shooting three years before.
They’d learn that one body had been found, too mutilated for identification of any kind.
But just in that moment they stood there and stared at that blood stain and muttered under their breaths, like a prayer, like the only mantra that would carry them through the coming days, like a spell to summon the one they’d lost back to them.
“The usual drill.”
oOo
“Be careful out there,” he told her, the distance and bad connection distorting his voice but it could have made it unintelligible and she still would have known that was what he said. It was what Charlie always told her when she was somewhere where she could call him.
“You too,” she answered back, taking in a breath, the silence waiting for words but she couldn’t fill it. The words died with Echo. They both know it. That’s why she was Europe and he was in America and they hadn’t seen each other since they left L.A. four years ago.
Another moment, another silence, and then a click and she hung up the phone, exiting the phone booth and turning back to Charlotte, her friend and mentor giving her a sort of indulging but kind smile. “What’s your brother been up to this week?”
Tara shrugged. “He’s in Kentucky on business.” She didn’t explain the business involved heads that needed busting and an ex-student that had found a bit more trouble that he could deal with alone.
She fell into step beside Charlotte, the two of them making their way down the streets of London toward their next destination. With the long con Charlotte was working she couldn’t really play many other roles without risking her cover and Tara had needed time, experience, and teaching to break out of the role of a hitter with basic spy training. Their meeting and the partnership that followed had been lucrative.
Their friendship had been beyond what either had expected.
“You miss him,” Charlotte said, casually like they were talking about the weather but with the same sincere empathy Tara *had* to learn how to fake.
“I miss them both,” she admitted. “Every so often I think I’m moving on and then… at the airport just yesterday I thought I saw Echo but…” She sighed and shook her head. “I just… need to remind myself of the usual.”
“The usual?” Charlotte asked.
“Something Echo used to say,” Tara responded. “When things got bad, he’d tell us to just focus on the usual. Just keep walking forward.”
Charlotte smiled, nodding in approval. “Well then. I suppose now’s as good a time as any for me to keep my promise.”
It was a distraction, Tara knew that, but she was grateful for it none the less. “Now you’re going to explain?”
“I told you I would sooner or later,” Charlotte countered, delaying a moment longer for the art of the delay. “And someone has to teach you that Neuro linguistics don’t work like you think they do.”
oOo
She was warm. It rushed through her veins, swelled in her chest, pulled her in and held her.
Like strong arms holding her tight she was settled in amongst them, Echo to her right, Sophie to her left, Charlie leaning on the back of the booth, hands resting on her shoulders. The team sat around them, Nate and Eliot chatting, Parker and Hardison bickering, Sophie calling over to Nate about something and Eliot interjecting into the play fight between Parker and Hardison.
It was an unbroken circle.
Charlie leaned down, whispering in her ear words she couldn’t make out.
oOo
The words echoed through her mind, still too distant to make out, as Tara fought to open her eyes. Soft sheets against the skin of her arms told her she was in a bed.
Pain flaring from her injuries reminded her of what had happened.
Her eyes opened quickly, she had to warn Nate, had to find Eliot, had to do something before things spiraled further out of control.
She sat up, ignoring the white hot flare of pain.
A hand touched her good shoulder, the gentle pressure mixing with a sudden wave of dizziness to force her to lie down again.
“Take it easy,” Maggie told her. “I called Hardison, he’ll let Nate know you won’t be able to meet him as soon as he lands. “ Tara turned, seeing her sitting in a chair beside the bed, feeling the sling securing her relocated arm and the bandages around the knife wound. “You should really let me take you to a hospital. I’ve picked up a lot of first aid but stitching a knife wound…”
Tara winced. “If you’ve got what I need I can do it myself.”
“With only one good hand?” Maggie asked, incredulous, but standing anyway. Maggie had a point. “Could you tell me what to do?”
It was the best of bad choices.
Tara nodded, giving Maggie the list of things she’d need that could be found in a normal home, ending with a request for the strongest type of alcohol she kept on hand.
Maggie at the very least seemed to get the point of that and came back with the supplies and a shot of something Tara didn’t take the time to process what it was before knocking it back, letting the burn down her throat and the weight of it in her stomach dampen the fire from her injuries.
Not enough, not nearly enough, but it would have to do.
Maggie was following her early instructions, getting ready, her hands shaking just a little bit, but even then she still looked over to Tara, forcing an almost reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, just remember to do the usual; just keep breathing. It’ll be alright.”
Tara didn’t know who Maggie was really reassuring, or where she’d learned Echo’s old advice, but she took it as a comfort, reminding herself to keep breathing, keep walking forward.
She leaned her head back and gave Maggie the first instruction.
Author: Magpie
Rating: pg-13
Genre: Nate/Eliot, referenced pre-series Eliot/OMC, later Parker/Hardison
Verse: BlackKing!WhiteKnight!Verse
Summary: Those who forget the past will be doomed to repeat it.
Notes: Much praise and thanks to my beta: LMX_v3point3
This chapter is brought to you in part by She Don't Want the World.
Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
Los Angeles, CA
Sixteen years ago
There were times when Tara wondered who she might have been or where she might have gone if she hadn’t been chosen as part of The Project, or even if when it dispersed and the survivors were dishonorably discharged she had gone quietly into the night and slipped back into normal society.
And then there were other nights when she felt like this was fate.
Like all her life had lead her to the youth center in L.A., like she was meant to end up meeting those two desperate teenage boys and helping them bring down that second project and somehow transform her whole world.
That she was meant to be here, in a booth in a bar, with Charlie teasing Echo about the fact he was still too young to drink with them, the lights dim but the air warm, wrapped around them.
Her whole world in this little booth in this little bar in this huge city in this strange world of other people who weren’t them.
Who weren’t us.
The conversation flowed back and forth between them. Work, banter, sports, music, fake taunts, and completely understood subtext. They said everything and they said nothing and neither was really needed because they’d been through hell and back and now they’d found a place where, when they were together, the world stood still and they just were.
And even if Echo and Charlie had to hide the love that bound them together from a world that judged, and the three of them shared something beyond what might be considered traditional in any sense of the word.
Even if they all worked in the criminal underworld and the work they talked about so light-heartedly came very close to killing at least one of them on a regular basis.
Even if not one of them existed as far as most of the world was concerned and they would always be exiled to this underworld of thieves and conmen.
Even despite all of that, she knew on nights like tonight that somehow she had found home, and family, and the answers to all those questions that had been floating around her head for the twenty three years she’d been alive before she heard that Samuel was up to no good in L.A.
She looked toward the future, seeing their life stretch out and on just like this.
And she didn’t think she could think of any other way she’d rather have it.
Los Angeles, CA
Present Day
Tara stirred from the daydream, turning away from the boarded up building that had once been a small bar patronized by locals and three young thieves.
It had been a long time since she’d let herself remember those days. For a long time it had been painful, remembering how powerful that sense of belonging was in the face of a world where she knew she’d probably never find it again. Even if she’d found some respite with Sophie and learning the art of the con and much more and even with the connection she had maintained with Charlie through the years, she knew she’d never be able to go back there.
It had taken a long time but she’d learned to let go of that, learned the fine art of being alone as Echo had once called it.
And she’d shut those memories away where they wouldn’t remind her of what she’d lost.
But the team… there were some days when the team almost reminded her of Charlie and Echo, when she watched Eliot, Parker, and Hardison and had to blink away a memory.
Even before Charlie had confirmed her suspicions about Eliot.
And now with all of this…
She shook her head, shaking off the memory, the past, and the train of thought entirely. She needed to focus and keep her head in the game and remember that when all of this was over Eliot would probably still have no memory of that and really she should let it stay that way.
It had practically been Charlie’s dying wish to let it stay that way.
Just keep moving forward, she told herself again, keep putting one foot in front of the other and don’t look back. The usual drill.
She turned away and continued down the street, keeping to the safety of the shadows. It was early in the morning, long before the sun would rise, and she was killing time before Nate got here, too restless to sleep and not wanting to dream anyway…
She stopped halfway through a thought suddenly getting the sense that she was being watched.
She continued down the street, not giving away that she was aware that anything was amiss but searching about for signs of a tail.
She didn’t expect to turn the corner and walk almost straight into someone.
He was a man, mid-thirties, strong build, skin tone suggesting far eastern origins.
Something about the face seemed familiar.
“Bravo?” she asked, the word slipping past her lips in surprise. She hadn’t seen the boy in close to twenty years but she was almost sure.
He nodded. “Hello Tara.”
A smile spread across her face. “What are you doing here? Last I heard from Charlie you were pulling that retrieval in Peru. How’d you end up in L.A.?”
“Same as you I’d guess.” His smile faded. “Samuel.”
“You heard about Charlie then,” Tara stated. “Well as glad as I am to see you you should probably get out of town. From what I can tell Samuel’s up to his usual and I don’t need you getting caught in the cross fire.”
He shook his head, a strange look on his face as he reached a hand out to settle on her shoulder.
She could feel him shaking.
Her eyes widened as he whispered; “It’s a little late for that.”
Tara stood her ground. Turning to run would only trigger his conditioning into full force. She took a breath ready to say the safe word, put him down without hurting him and get the hell away.
“I’m the first one he found,” Bravo said, trying to force himself to hold on a little longer. In the dim light of the street lamps she could see his pupils dilating. “Charlie found me. Tried to get me out again…my fault he’s...” He trailed off, mind starting to slip away and Tara reached out to close a hand around his, pulling him back just a little longer. Bravo blinked at her. “Only one he found… but he heard… talked about Echo coming back. Think Echo’s in LA.” Bravo’s eyes widened. “Find him first.”
Before Tara could react the switch in Bravo’s head flipped and his other hand hit her hard in the solar plexus, knocking the air out of her lungs.
She stumbled back, trying to pull in a gasp of air enough to say the safe words, take Bravo down, but he moved with her. A second blow to her stomach, one to her shoulder, she barely avoided the legs trying to sweep her feet out from under her.
Like Eliot, Bravo had gone into the hitter’s line and his fighting skills had only improved over the years.
A fifth blow landed and she felt a rib nearly give way, she was keeping her guard up so he couldn’t strike a knockout blow but faltering that for even a second would probably result in her getting taken down.
And she wouldn’t last long like this.
She sidestepped the next blow, striking out with her left arm. “Bravo. Check in,” She commanded, her voice as stable as she could manage as Bravo caught her arm, twisting as he struck the next blow.
Breath almost caught in her throat as she felt something in her shoulder jerk, pop, and tear but she bit down the noise of pain as Bravo stilled just for a moment, conditioning kicking in. “Somno. At ease Student.”
She watched as Bravo’s eyes unfocused, faltering, before he seemed to start to shake it off.
Well. Fuck.
“Somno. At ease Student” She repeated, taking a careful step forward, reaching out a hand to run through his hair.
It was a fucking creepy thing about Samuel but he tended to use physical gestures to calm the students, she’d learned from Echo and Charlie gentle physical contact could increase the effectiveness of a safeword.
And if that didn’t work she’d be lined up to knock him out the old fashioned way.
“At ea-“ Her words left in a strangled shout as Bravo’s hand shot out, the blade in it digging into her side before she even registered it. Not letting herself react to the sudden trauma she jerked forward, striking out as hard and fast as she could, knocking Bravo out.
She didn’t allow herself time to catch her breath, adrenalin was masking a good deal of the pain she should be in and the moment that faded her functionality would quickly reduce.
Her shoulder needed to be popped back into place and she needed to stop the bleeding from the knife wound and she needed to get far away from here before Bravo came to or someone came looking for him.
She reached for her cell phone, fumbling with it before finding the number she’d never thought she’d actually use.
She hesitated only a second, she already knew what her other options were and this was the best of bad options.
“Hello?” The voice answered after the third ring, sleep slurred but not angry.
“Maggie?” Tara asked. “Hey. I’m in L.A. and I…”
“You’re hurt and the team can’t get you?” Maggie asked, already sounding more awake.
Tara would have laughed, the situation seemed absurdly funny somehow, but she was pretty sure it would hurt and that the fact it seemed so funny was probably a bad sign. “Yeah. Nate won’t get here ‘til morning. No one else is coming.”
“Where are you?” She asked. “And I suppose calling you an ambulance isn’t an option.” It was a statement not a question.
Tara looked around, trying to find somewhere safe... well safer, to hole up while Maggie got there.
The bar.
She gave the location of the old bar, already moving.
“I’m on my way,” Maggie told her and she must have sounded bad if Maggie’s voice was any indication. “But I’m on the far side of the city. It may be awhile.”
Tara said something, she didn’t remember what seconds after she said it, and hung up. Her eyes focused further up the street in the direction of her destination.
The usual drill.
oOo
Later she wouldn’t really remember the long walk to the bar, or how much time it took, or how exactly she broke into the place.
She’d only vaguely remember instinctively making her way to the corner where Their booth had once sat, leaning against the wall and trying to do what she could for her injuries.
She’d remember the bright flashpain of relocating her shoulder, the slow and deadly burn of the wound in her side and the way it would flare white hot at odd times.
She’d remember her head growing light and her limbs growing heavy and how she’d wondered how much better she’d be fairing if she’d eaten or slept at all in the past forty eight hours.
She’d remember looking up and seeing Echo there, looking worried, and knowing that the fact she was hallucinating was Not Good with capital letters and Hardison’s voice providing extra emphasis.
She’d remember laughter, the oddly hysteric kind, when she realized Hardison had hacked his way into her brain with the others and she needed to spend less time with the team. Her ribs and side then made her pay for breaking the shallow breathing pattern and she wondered if maybe she did have a broken rib.
Then Charlie was there at her side, telling her the same thing he always did, and she muttered back that yeah, she knew, focus on the usual.
Then Echo curled in next to her and Charlie sat down and she closed her eyes, focusing on breathing.
The usual drill.
oOo
In the back of their minds they’d known something was wrong. Their fears had already aided the roll call of worst case scenarios that had been playing out in their minds in the time since they found Echo’s apartment unlocked and signs of a struggle inside.
Rationally, they’d known the moment they saw the police tape what they’d find.
They had to wait until the police moved on. They both had fake identities but neither would hold up for long.
While they were waiting they saw the body bag brought out by the cops, the right size for Echo.
They also saw two rookie cops throwing up outside.
They’d known what had happened.
But now they were standing here, staring at a blood stain on concrete, scuff marks from where a chair had been, the smell of burnt flesh and piss making even them gag.
In the morning they’d con their way into the police precinct, find out that among the evidence collected was half a set of Dog Tags belonging to Tara Cole, an ex-marine killed in a drive-by shooting three years before.
They’d learn that one body had been found, too mutilated for identification of any kind.
But just in that moment they stood there and stared at that blood stain and muttered under their breaths, like a prayer, like the only mantra that would carry them through the coming days, like a spell to summon the one they’d lost back to them.
“The usual drill.”
oOo
“Be careful out there,” he told her, the distance and bad connection distorting his voice but it could have made it unintelligible and she still would have known that was what he said. It was what Charlie always told her when she was somewhere where she could call him.
“You too,” she answered back, taking in a breath, the silence waiting for words but she couldn’t fill it. The words died with Echo. They both know it. That’s why she was Europe and he was in America and they hadn’t seen each other since they left L.A. four years ago.
Another moment, another silence, and then a click and she hung up the phone, exiting the phone booth and turning back to Charlotte, her friend and mentor giving her a sort of indulging but kind smile. “What’s your brother been up to this week?”
Tara shrugged. “He’s in Kentucky on business.” She didn’t explain the business involved heads that needed busting and an ex-student that had found a bit more trouble that he could deal with alone.
She fell into step beside Charlotte, the two of them making their way down the streets of London toward their next destination. With the long con Charlotte was working she couldn’t really play many other roles without risking her cover and Tara had needed time, experience, and teaching to break out of the role of a hitter with basic spy training. Their meeting and the partnership that followed had been lucrative.
Their friendship had been beyond what either had expected.
“You miss him,” Charlotte said, casually like they were talking about the weather but with the same sincere empathy Tara *had* to learn how to fake.
“I miss them both,” she admitted. “Every so often I think I’m moving on and then… at the airport just yesterday I thought I saw Echo but…” She sighed and shook her head. “I just… need to remind myself of the usual.”
“The usual?” Charlotte asked.
“Something Echo used to say,” Tara responded. “When things got bad, he’d tell us to just focus on the usual. Just keep walking forward.”
Charlotte smiled, nodding in approval. “Well then. I suppose now’s as good a time as any for me to keep my promise.”
It was a distraction, Tara knew that, but she was grateful for it none the less. “Now you’re going to explain?”
“I told you I would sooner or later,” Charlotte countered, delaying a moment longer for the art of the delay. “And someone has to teach you that Neuro linguistics don’t work like you think they do.”
oOo
She was warm. It rushed through her veins, swelled in her chest, pulled her in and held her.
Like strong arms holding her tight she was settled in amongst them, Echo to her right, Sophie to her left, Charlie leaning on the back of the booth, hands resting on her shoulders. The team sat around them, Nate and Eliot chatting, Parker and Hardison bickering, Sophie calling over to Nate about something and Eliot interjecting into the play fight between Parker and Hardison.
It was an unbroken circle.
Charlie leaned down, whispering in her ear words she couldn’t make out.
oOo
The words echoed through her mind, still too distant to make out, as Tara fought to open her eyes. Soft sheets against the skin of her arms told her she was in a bed.
Pain flaring from her injuries reminded her of what had happened.
Her eyes opened quickly, she had to warn Nate, had to find Eliot, had to do something before things spiraled further out of control.
She sat up, ignoring the white hot flare of pain.
A hand touched her good shoulder, the gentle pressure mixing with a sudden wave of dizziness to force her to lie down again.
“Take it easy,” Maggie told her. “I called Hardison, he’ll let Nate know you won’t be able to meet him as soon as he lands. “ Tara turned, seeing her sitting in a chair beside the bed, feeling the sling securing her relocated arm and the bandages around the knife wound. “You should really let me take you to a hospital. I’ve picked up a lot of first aid but stitching a knife wound…”
Tara winced. “If you’ve got what I need I can do it myself.”
“With only one good hand?” Maggie asked, incredulous, but standing anyway. Maggie had a point. “Could you tell me what to do?”
It was the best of bad choices.
Tara nodded, giving Maggie the list of things she’d need that could be found in a normal home, ending with a request for the strongest type of alcohol she kept on hand.
Maggie at the very least seemed to get the point of that and came back with the supplies and a shot of something Tara didn’t take the time to process what it was before knocking it back, letting the burn down her throat and the weight of it in her stomach dampen the fire from her injuries.
Not enough, not nearly enough, but it would have to do.
Maggie was following her early instructions, getting ready, her hands shaking just a little bit, but even then she still looked over to Tara, forcing an almost reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, just remember to do the usual; just keep breathing. It’ll be alright.”
Tara didn’t know who Maggie was really reassuring, or where she’d learned Echo’s old advice, but she took it as a comfort, reminding herself to keep breathing, keep walking forward.
She leaned her head back and gave Maggie the first instruction.