Can't Help Myself
Title: Can't Help Myself
Rating: T
Warnings: Language! (dropping the F-bomb again!), un-beta'd
Pairings: Non explicitly but Nate/Eliot is there
Disclaimer: I don't own Leverage... I just like to play with the characters, bend them to my will. *grins*
Summary: If he can't stop this soon, someone was going to get hurt.
Sequel to I'm Not Pissed (Really)
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Of course his revelation that he was actually miserable about his situation with Nathan fucking Ford would bring to light another issue, one that should not be an issue to begin with, but what the hell. If he did something he put his full effort into it so why should this be any different? Hell, since he didn’t exactly believe in a higher power it was kind of poetic that his revelation - yes, he’s still going to call it that, probably forevermore - would bring about this… unwelcome side effect. Unwelcome in the fact that it made his lifestyle, dangerous before, even more dangerous. Possibly even fatal if he didn’t put a cap on it soon.
See, there’s a reason he always worked alone - and it wasn’t because he couldn’t protect everyone. He worked alone to keep anything or anyone from getting too damn close. He didn’t need their emotional baggage or physical need to help him. He taught himself to be self sufficient to a fault a long time ago and come Hell or high water he would do just that. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, or want it, he just couldn’t protect others and himself at the same time. He couldn’t physically or mentally do it.
Physical protection was almost always easier to accomplish than the other. If he didn’t want to talk he’d remove himself from the conversation. If he didn’t want to be around the said bastard - however petty it sounded - he’d leave. Not the group but leave the room, go talk to someone else, whatever he had to do to get away. Those were simple and straight forward. It was harder when he was actually fighting for protection. When he fought a whole shit storm of thoughts plagued him. He knew his primary job was to get the others out safely no matter what.
It didn’t matter what happened to him.
Dammit!
Until his heart clenched and he thought about how it might affect that drunken bastard. Then it became about not just getting everyone out but himself out too - which never crossed his mind in the past. It’s what made him very notorious at his job: get in, get the job done or die trying if you have to but don’t go out without fighting. His safety didn’t matter because what the hell, he was a retrieval specialist and there were more where he came from. But damn it all to Hell if he didn’t seem to fight harder and make more rash decisions when he thought about him.
It was enough to make him physically nauseous.
But damn.
He was fucked up mentally against people. He would love to blame it all on his parents or how his rough childhood had screwed him over… but he was an honest man, figuratively speaking, and he wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself. They may have contributed to his mental blockades to the more… damaging emotions but it was still his own choice to make that happen. Blame could only lie within himself because how could others do it when he kept them so far away?
The hell.
His mind went in twelve different directions because of this shit. It didn’t stay still and let him brood over anything, it was the next plan, the next idea, or the next decision he was going to make to get this shit off his mind. It pulled him in all directions and demanded he make choices that weren’t there to take. It asked questions he wasn’t really able to answer because when he did he’d second guess himself or doubt his decision. He really couldn’t afford that type of distraction because it made him sloppy.
And people got hurt when he got sloppy.
It affected everything about him. His movement, his thinking, his stance, his reaction time… everything became that much harder to control and in return shit happened. He would pull a punch on accident, let his guard down when it needed to be up, he’d leave people open to attack… shit that got people killed. He didn’t want to make mistakes like that but staying with this group of people, that bastard Nathan fucking Ford, was like trying to walk away from a real family.
He was fucking screwed.
And so were they because he couldn’t protect them and him at the same time. Sooner or later something would give and it would be his fault.
Just because of that bastard Nathan fucking Ford.
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Author's Note: So I'm happier with this one. It kinda explains why I'm Not Pissed (Really) jumps around a lot (this one does too.) XD I didn't really have intentions to follow up with that fic but... well, who am I to turn down writing ficition? Hahah. Plot bunnies are welcome!