In Death
Title: In Death
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Eliot +Team
Verse:
Fandoms: Leverage
Summary: Concerning heaven, hell, and retirement plans.
Notes: WarningMajor character deaths, borderline crack, esotiric themes about heaven written by a girl who's major source of Christian Knowledge is The West Wing and Supernatural.
This is basically a concept that's been floating in my head for years but finally just demanded to be written.
After Eliot died he lost track of time. Maybe there just wasn’t time after death.
First there was darkness and hellfire, hell. Demons wearing the faces of those he killed put him on a rack and they cut and burned and broke him with no measure of time but the screams wrenched from his throat until it narrowed down and any perception of time or anything else lost all meaning.
Then…
Hands, ghostly but radiating a blinding light, appeared out of the darkness, forms attached so bright the demons and ghosts were driven back. A slender hand with delicate, feather light, touches undid the chains holding him in place and pulled the spikes from his hands. Hands and arms stronger than you’d think, lifted him from the rack and cradled him close as another set of hands, nails neatly manicured even now, worked to pull off the last traces of the infernal devices from his body.
A hand touched his forehead in benediction and after that all he knew was light.
He woke up on the couch in Nate’s apartment, his back hurting, memories of fire pressing in his mind and he knew he would carry them always but the pain and fear would fade in time.
He sat up and looked around, the unearthly bright light streaming in the windows telling him this was not the condo he’d died in.
Parker landed in front of him, wings the color of shadows spreading out behind her as she grins at him and calls out. “He’s awake!”
Nate wandered over, mug in hand, wings a shifting constantly between shades of gray, black, and white. Sophie’s a step behind him with her own wings a pristine ivory, and Hardison, older than Eliot remembered but still recognizable, patters down the stairs with wings like metallic constructs of wiring and lights that shouldn’t be as beautiful as the rest but were.
“Where am I?” Eliot asked, not sure if he could trust his eyes, not sure if he could trusts the memory of the hands saving him, desperate to believe this wasn’t some trick to break him some new way because it would. It would so utterly break him if it wasn’t true.
Time had no meaning in hell, but Eliot had wanted nothing more than to see them again and know they were safe for what could possibly be an eternity.
Parker glanced toward Hardison. “It’s kind of complicated.” She said.
“The suburbs of heaven. Sort of.” Hardison answered.
Eliot blinked. Their heaven was Nate’s condo?
“Why am I here?” He asked. “I… I was in…” The fire roared in the back of his mind and he couldn’t say it. Not yet.
Sophie came forward, sitting next to him, hand settling gently on his shoulder, smile bittersweet. “Because we got to heaven and found out you weren’t here and… it’s supposed to be perfect. Perfect happiness. No more pain. No more tears. N-“
There was a ring of delighted laughter as a door burst open. Little feet.
A boy Eliot knew must have been Sam launched himself into Nate’s waiting arms and turned to look to Eliot with large, happy, eyes. “He’s here?” Sam asked, his smile widening. Nate put Sam down and the boy gave an excited clap. “So you’ll all stop being sad now?”
And that little question from a child Eliot had never known alive and Eliot had understood.
He’d joined the team looking to make amends but never seeking redemption. He was already damned.
But him being in hell had kept his team from having their heaven and so their love for him had redeemed him.
“Now.” Nate said after a moment. “Sam, tell your mother Eliot’s risen and the team won’t be down for dinner. We’ve got work to do.”
Eliot’s eyes widen and Parker patted his shoulder. “What, you think our heaven would be us all retired?” She asked before patting him again. “You’re adorable.”
After that time had meaning again.
After that everything had meaning again.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Eliot +Team
Verse:
Fandoms: Leverage
Summary: Concerning heaven, hell, and retirement plans.
Notes: WarningMajor character deaths, borderline crack, esotiric themes about heaven written by a girl who's major source of Christian Knowledge is The West Wing and Supernatural.
This is basically a concept that's been floating in my head for years but finally just demanded to be written.
After Eliot died he lost track of time. Maybe there just wasn’t time after death.
First there was darkness and hellfire, hell. Demons wearing the faces of those he killed put him on a rack and they cut and burned and broke him with no measure of time but the screams wrenched from his throat until it narrowed down and any perception of time or anything else lost all meaning.
Then…
Hands, ghostly but radiating a blinding light, appeared out of the darkness, forms attached so bright the demons and ghosts were driven back. A slender hand with delicate, feather light, touches undid the chains holding him in place and pulled the spikes from his hands. Hands and arms stronger than you’d think, lifted him from the rack and cradled him close as another set of hands, nails neatly manicured even now, worked to pull off the last traces of the infernal devices from his body.
A hand touched his forehead in benediction and after that all he knew was light.
He woke up on the couch in Nate’s apartment, his back hurting, memories of fire pressing in his mind and he knew he would carry them always but the pain and fear would fade in time.
He sat up and looked around, the unearthly bright light streaming in the windows telling him this was not the condo he’d died in.
Parker landed in front of him, wings the color of shadows spreading out behind her as she grins at him and calls out. “He’s awake!”
Nate wandered over, mug in hand, wings a shifting constantly between shades of gray, black, and white. Sophie’s a step behind him with her own wings a pristine ivory, and Hardison, older than Eliot remembered but still recognizable, patters down the stairs with wings like metallic constructs of wiring and lights that shouldn’t be as beautiful as the rest but were.
“Where am I?” Eliot asked, not sure if he could trust his eyes, not sure if he could trusts the memory of the hands saving him, desperate to believe this wasn’t some trick to break him some new way because it would. It would so utterly break him if it wasn’t true.
Time had no meaning in hell, but Eliot had wanted nothing more than to see them again and know they were safe for what could possibly be an eternity.
Parker glanced toward Hardison. “It’s kind of complicated.” She said.
“The suburbs of heaven. Sort of.” Hardison answered.
Eliot blinked. Their heaven was Nate’s condo?
“Why am I here?” He asked. “I… I was in…” The fire roared in the back of his mind and he couldn’t say it. Not yet.
Sophie came forward, sitting next to him, hand settling gently on his shoulder, smile bittersweet. “Because we got to heaven and found out you weren’t here and… it’s supposed to be perfect. Perfect happiness. No more pain. No more tears. N-“
There was a ring of delighted laughter as a door burst open. Little feet.
A boy Eliot knew must have been Sam launched himself into Nate’s waiting arms and turned to look to Eliot with large, happy, eyes. “He’s here?” Sam asked, his smile widening. Nate put Sam down and the boy gave an excited clap. “So you’ll all stop being sad now?”
And that little question from a child Eliot had never known alive and Eliot had understood.
He’d joined the team looking to make amends but never seeking redemption. He was already damned.
But him being in hell had kept his team from having their heaven and so their love for him had redeemed him.
“Now.” Nate said after a moment. “Sam, tell your mother Eliot’s risen and the team won’t be down for dinner. We’ve got work to do.”
Eliot’s eyes widen and Parker patted his shoulder. “What, you think our heaven would be us all retired?” She asked before patting him again. “You’re adorable.”
After that time had meaning again.
After that everything had meaning again.