Cell Number Eight 5/9
Title: Cell Number Eight 5/9
Author: Magpie
Rating: pg-13
Genre: Nate, Eliot backstory
Verse: Origins Verse
Summary: Nate was waiting for IYS to pay his ransom. Eliot was waiting to die. Neither expected sharing a tiny cell in a prison outside Cairo would forge the foundation of a relationship that would last the years.
Notes: This is my backstory for Nate and Eliot used in this verse and probably the other stories unless stated otherwise.
Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4
Joey’s eyes were wide, blinking up at him. “El”
Horrified Eliot dropped his hands staggering backwards. How? What?
Agony broke across his consciousness, pounding through him and making him collapse and curl forward. Arms caught him, pulling him close and safe in a way that couldn’t be a dream.
No one had ever really held him like this.
Someone ran a hand through his hair, muttering soft words in his ear. “Don’t understand.” Eliot whispered without really meaning to. He didn’t. It was all… too much, too strange. He was angry and scared and it fucking hurt so much just to breath and it just… he couldn’t understand anything.
Except that he felt safe.
And the feeling was so strange he was terrified it was just a fleeting part of this half waking dream he was in.
He tried to breath steadily, feeling like the would was flying out of control but there was something, a soft steady thumping rhythm right against his right ear. Steady and strong and relaxing. The hand in his hair rested on the back on his neck.
It felt real. It felt solid.
Like when he emptied his mind to try to measure the passage of time Eliot just breathed, letting everything go. He was feeling so much, drowning in everything and his mind couldn’t even process what anything meant or came from. He had to be able to thing or not think at all.
So he let it all go. Let it all fade away into blissful white of oblivion and fade away from the fire rising in his skin.
When Eliot surfaced he knew he was awake, though he drifted just barely to the lucid side of awareness where he was awake but not quite moving yet.
He was leaning forward at an odd angle, his chest leaning against another body with the right side of his head resting against a bare shoulder and chest. Arms were holding him carefully, mindful of the agony that was his back Eliot knew came from a rather nasty beating.
Nate.
Nate was holding him, almost like you’d hold a child.
Holding him tight, close.
Safe.
A soft voice reached him ears. Nate was whispering, his voice soft and soothing as it flowed easily from word to word that blended together before Eliot could really tell exactly what Nate was saying. It sounded like a prayer almost.
Maybe Nate was praying for him?
Eliot stirred a little and the words stopped, the hand lifting from his neck. “Eliot?” Nate asked slowly.
Eliot tried to answer but he couldn’t quite make his voice work. Something between a murmmer and moan passing his lips.
Slowly Nate maneuvered him a little. “Sorry.” Nate whispered a second before shifting so he was holding Eliot up by an arm across his back, tearing another moan from him. “Water” Nate said before touching the rim of a metal pail to Eliot’s lips and helping him drink something.
A few minutes later, leaning back against Nate’s chest, slipping off into Oblivion once more Eliot wasn’t sure if he was slipping back to sleep or waking up from a dream anymore.
Nate had watched in strange horror and awe as that murderous look in Eliot’s eyes dissolved and his body had spasamed as adrenalin gave way to the agony that movement must have been for him. He’d moved without thinking, steadying him and pulling him close to rest against his chest, Nate’s own injured back resting against the rough stone wall somehow didn’t burn as badly as it should.
Eliot’s breath was quick and pained, so close to sobbing Nate was surprised the man wasn’t crying. Nate didn’t really understand what had just happened, and there was a lot about Eliot he wasn’t sure he’d ever understand but at that moment Nate had been going on instinct. Nightmares were nightmares, whether you were an eight year old boy dreaming about monsters in the closet or a twenty something man who’d been put through hell too many times, someone holding you made things a little better.
So close Nate could feel the heat of a fever setting back into Eliot and closed his eyes. If it was because of an infection it could mean Eliot would die. Hell, Nate already wasn’t sure if Eliot would live through the night.
Without even realizing it the soothing murmur of words Nate had been whispering turned into a soft prayer.
Somehow he couldn’t bare the idea of Eliot dieing.
And so he’d prayed and Eliot’s sobs had died down and he’d slept for a time to wake again. Nate helped him drink and watched as once again Eliot faded away.
It was strange, how a week ago they had been strangers. A week ago if someone had told Nate he would care this much about a thief, that he’d see one almost… almost like a son… he would have laughed. He’d always thought thieves were greedy and selfish, doing whatever they had to get what they wanted even if it hurt someone. He’d thought they only cared about themselves.
But a thief had just taken a brutal beating to protect him. Nate traced the tip of a finger over a scar that marked the back of Eliot’s neck.
Now Nate was beginning to wonder how many thieves had been made what they were, at least partly. How many thieves had simply been forced to live in a cruel world and learned how to survive as best they could? If whoever had hurt Eliot as a child had been a good parent would he have turned out differently?
Nate looked down at the man in his arms, lines of pain smoothed away in sleep and those paranoid eyes closed to the world making him look his age for once.
A week ago he would never have believed he’d look at a thief like Eliot and feel like he was holding a son.
And soon they’d part ways to never see each other again.
A bittersweet smile crossed Nate’s lips and he sighed, leaning his head back. “Protect this man” He whispered. “Protect my sons.”
Pain!
Eliot screamed, thrashing against the bindings that held him as sparking alligator clips touched his chest again making his mind blank in pain for a second as his body reacted to the shock. They moved away and he relaxed again.
Nishka’s face swam above him. Taunting and questioning and god Eliot prayed one day he’d be able to punch that little ratty face so bad even the people who look like him would be in pieces. Guards hauled him to his feet, holding him tight.
The Nishka became That Man and Joey was there and Eliot thrashed out. Somewhere in his mind he knew that the hell that had been Nishka’s prisons had never touched Joey. Joey had been safe and free by then. Everything was okay.
The crack of a whip and his mind shifted.
He was free but staring at a burning barn holding a ring in his hand and nothing made sense.
His eyes opened to find daybreak had come. Nate was still holding him but his mind was a little clearer than it had been. He lay still for a long moment, trying to pull himself back together and determine if Nate was awake or asleep.
The steady rising and falling of Nate’s chest told him he was still asleep. Slowly, more because it was really the only option when he was this badly hurt than in difference to Nate, Eliot pulled away from the older man. He felt lightheaded but felt strong enough to move. The beating was bad but he’d grown up on a steady diet of brutality. He could deal.
Sometime during the night or in the morning the normal trays had been delivered to the cell so Eliot went to his own, drinking and taking care of necessities while Nate was out. He was bringing Nate’s food and water to him when Nate stirred, opening his eyes and looking around until he saw Eliot. “Should you be walking around?” He asked, sounding concerned.
Eliot shrugged just enough to avoid hurting his back further. “I’m used to it. When I was a kid my step dad’d beat the shit outta me.” Eliot wasn’t sure why he elaborated. For all that week Nate had really been the only one to talk about personal matters. He felt like something had changed overnight, just wasn’t sure how much.
“Oh…sorry.” Nate said, like most people not really knowing how to respond.
“He’s doing twenty five years of hard time.” Eliot said with another shrug. “Breakfast came.” He said handing Nate his food. “When you’re finished eating I’m gonna take a look at your injuries. Don’t want you dieing on me.”
They ate in silence for awhile after that, both lost in their thoughts. It was only after Eliot was sitting behind Nate, picking the gravel and dirt out of the cuts on his back and mumbling about Nate not taking care of himself that either really said anything.
“It’s none of my business but what were you dreaming about?” Nate asked and Eliot paused for a moment, wondering how or if he even should answer that.
That something in him didn’t mind the personal question and wanted to answer because it was Nate should have been more surprising.
Finally he sighed. “I was dreaming about Nishka’s dungeons. It hasn’t been that long since I escaped. I guess…”
“This brought back bad memories?” Nate filled.
“Yeah.”
“If you were still as hurt from that as you were why did you do this job? You should know better.”
Eliot let out a long breath, that pain flaring up again as he thought about Ammie. He curled his hand closed, feeling the ghost of the promise ring he’d given her in the palm of his hand. “I don’t know. I was a mess.”
“I could tell.” Nate commented. “First time I saw you you looked like you were waiting for death to get the memo.” It was a statement but the question was obvious.
Eliot closed opened his mouth and closed it, his chest tightening as he tried to put into words what he’d been carrying around all this time. “Theres this girl… knew her since I was a kid. Use’d ta patch me up sometimes. She was the one who got me ta run when I did. She and her dad were family and no matter how long I was gone I could come home ta her. For years they’ve been all I’ve had.” His voice faded away for a second. “We were talking about getting engaged but I went off on this job and got caught by Nishka. I spent three months in his dungeons. Only reason I escaped before I died was cause I kept tellin’ myself I was gonna get out and marry her.”
He shook his head, bitter laugh escaping his lips. “I finally get back to see her and she’s engaged to someone else. She told me not to come back. I don’t know if I was running or trying to get myself killed but I didn’t have anything left but the job after that. So I did a job.”
Nate was quiet. Which wasn’t surprising considering what he’d just been told.
“So yeah. I was already messed up then put back into a place, which didn’t exactly bring back good memories. I’d had enough.”
Nate was still quiet.
So Eliot went back to his work.
Sometime later Nate finally spoke. “When you get out of here what are you going to do?” The real question was obvious.
“I don’t know. A week ago I’d probably say pick a fight with someone who’d kill me but now… I don’t know.” He grinned a little. “Probably another job, it’s what I do and I need money.”
“If you didn’t need money what would you do?”
That earned a laugh from Eliot before he realized it was a serious question. “Normally horses... but I… her daddy owned a stable so I don’t think.” He sighed. “Honestly I don’t know. My whole life’s been what I had ta do, not what I wanted.” He sighed. “If I could… I’d do somthin’ to leave a mark. Somthin’ to let the world know I was here for once. Those in my line live and fight and die without leaving anything more than a trail of bodies behind. I don’t want ta be that.”
Nate nodded but didn’t respond.
Eliot finished soon after that and they both moved, setting out the chess board without even needing to speak. They were four moves in when Nate spoke.
“I don’t think IYS is coming for me. I know you’re leaving as soon as you can escape but you think you can give your old teacher a couple lessons before you go?”
“Lessons, maybe” Eliot said slowly as he moved. “But I think I can do better.” He’d never done it before but he’d been making plans for days.
“Huh?”
Eliot looked up, meeting Nate’s eyes. “I’ll getcha outta here myself.”
Previous: Chapter Four
Next: Chapter Six
Author: Magpie
Rating: pg-13
Genre: Nate, Eliot backstory
Verse: Origins Verse
Summary: Nate was waiting for IYS to pay his ransom. Eliot was waiting to die. Neither expected sharing a tiny cell in a prison outside Cairo would forge the foundation of a relationship that would last the years.
Notes: This is my backstory for Nate and Eliot used in this verse and probably the other stories unless stated otherwise.
Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4
Joey’s eyes were wide, blinking up at him. “El”
Horrified Eliot dropped his hands staggering backwards. How? What?
Agony broke across his consciousness, pounding through him and making him collapse and curl forward. Arms caught him, pulling him close and safe in a way that couldn’t be a dream.
No one had ever really held him like this.
Someone ran a hand through his hair, muttering soft words in his ear. “Don’t understand.” Eliot whispered without really meaning to. He didn’t. It was all… too much, too strange. He was angry and scared and it fucking hurt so much just to breath and it just… he couldn’t understand anything.
Except that he felt safe.
And the feeling was so strange he was terrified it was just a fleeting part of this half waking dream he was in.
He tried to breath steadily, feeling like the would was flying out of control but there was something, a soft steady thumping rhythm right against his right ear. Steady and strong and relaxing. The hand in his hair rested on the back on his neck.
It felt real. It felt solid.
Like when he emptied his mind to try to measure the passage of time Eliot just breathed, letting everything go. He was feeling so much, drowning in everything and his mind couldn’t even process what anything meant or came from. He had to be able to thing or not think at all.
So he let it all go. Let it all fade away into blissful white of oblivion and fade away from the fire rising in his skin.
When Eliot surfaced he knew he was awake, though he drifted just barely to the lucid side of awareness where he was awake but not quite moving yet.
He was leaning forward at an odd angle, his chest leaning against another body with the right side of his head resting against a bare shoulder and chest. Arms were holding him carefully, mindful of the agony that was his back Eliot knew came from a rather nasty beating.
Nate.
Nate was holding him, almost like you’d hold a child.
Holding him tight, close.
Safe.
A soft voice reached him ears. Nate was whispering, his voice soft and soothing as it flowed easily from word to word that blended together before Eliot could really tell exactly what Nate was saying. It sounded like a prayer almost.
Maybe Nate was praying for him?
Eliot stirred a little and the words stopped, the hand lifting from his neck. “Eliot?” Nate asked slowly.
Eliot tried to answer but he couldn’t quite make his voice work. Something between a murmmer and moan passing his lips.
Slowly Nate maneuvered him a little. “Sorry.” Nate whispered a second before shifting so he was holding Eliot up by an arm across his back, tearing another moan from him. “Water” Nate said before touching the rim of a metal pail to Eliot’s lips and helping him drink something.
A few minutes later, leaning back against Nate’s chest, slipping off into Oblivion once more Eliot wasn’t sure if he was slipping back to sleep or waking up from a dream anymore.
Nate had watched in strange horror and awe as that murderous look in Eliot’s eyes dissolved and his body had spasamed as adrenalin gave way to the agony that movement must have been for him. He’d moved without thinking, steadying him and pulling him close to rest against his chest, Nate’s own injured back resting against the rough stone wall somehow didn’t burn as badly as it should.
Eliot’s breath was quick and pained, so close to sobbing Nate was surprised the man wasn’t crying. Nate didn’t really understand what had just happened, and there was a lot about Eliot he wasn’t sure he’d ever understand but at that moment Nate had been going on instinct. Nightmares were nightmares, whether you were an eight year old boy dreaming about monsters in the closet or a twenty something man who’d been put through hell too many times, someone holding you made things a little better.
So close Nate could feel the heat of a fever setting back into Eliot and closed his eyes. If it was because of an infection it could mean Eliot would die. Hell, Nate already wasn’t sure if Eliot would live through the night.
Without even realizing it the soothing murmur of words Nate had been whispering turned into a soft prayer.
Somehow he couldn’t bare the idea of Eliot dieing.
And so he’d prayed and Eliot’s sobs had died down and he’d slept for a time to wake again. Nate helped him drink and watched as once again Eliot faded away.
It was strange, how a week ago they had been strangers. A week ago if someone had told Nate he would care this much about a thief, that he’d see one almost… almost like a son… he would have laughed. He’d always thought thieves were greedy and selfish, doing whatever they had to get what they wanted even if it hurt someone. He’d thought they only cared about themselves.
But a thief had just taken a brutal beating to protect him. Nate traced the tip of a finger over a scar that marked the back of Eliot’s neck.
Now Nate was beginning to wonder how many thieves had been made what they were, at least partly. How many thieves had simply been forced to live in a cruel world and learned how to survive as best they could? If whoever had hurt Eliot as a child had been a good parent would he have turned out differently?
Nate looked down at the man in his arms, lines of pain smoothed away in sleep and those paranoid eyes closed to the world making him look his age for once.
A week ago he would never have believed he’d look at a thief like Eliot and feel like he was holding a son.
And soon they’d part ways to never see each other again.
A bittersweet smile crossed Nate’s lips and he sighed, leaning his head back. “Protect this man” He whispered. “Protect my sons.”
Pain!
Eliot screamed, thrashing against the bindings that held him as sparking alligator clips touched his chest again making his mind blank in pain for a second as his body reacted to the shock. They moved away and he relaxed again.
Nishka’s face swam above him. Taunting and questioning and god Eliot prayed one day he’d be able to punch that little ratty face so bad even the people who look like him would be in pieces. Guards hauled him to his feet, holding him tight.
The Nishka became That Man and Joey was there and Eliot thrashed out. Somewhere in his mind he knew that the hell that had been Nishka’s prisons had never touched Joey. Joey had been safe and free by then. Everything was okay.
The crack of a whip and his mind shifted.
He was free but staring at a burning barn holding a ring in his hand and nothing made sense.
His eyes opened to find daybreak had come. Nate was still holding him but his mind was a little clearer than it had been. He lay still for a long moment, trying to pull himself back together and determine if Nate was awake or asleep.
The steady rising and falling of Nate’s chest told him he was still asleep. Slowly, more because it was really the only option when he was this badly hurt than in difference to Nate, Eliot pulled away from the older man. He felt lightheaded but felt strong enough to move. The beating was bad but he’d grown up on a steady diet of brutality. He could deal.
Sometime during the night or in the morning the normal trays had been delivered to the cell so Eliot went to his own, drinking and taking care of necessities while Nate was out. He was bringing Nate’s food and water to him when Nate stirred, opening his eyes and looking around until he saw Eliot. “Should you be walking around?” He asked, sounding concerned.
Eliot shrugged just enough to avoid hurting his back further. “I’m used to it. When I was a kid my step dad’d beat the shit outta me.” Eliot wasn’t sure why he elaborated. For all that week Nate had really been the only one to talk about personal matters. He felt like something had changed overnight, just wasn’t sure how much.
“Oh…sorry.” Nate said, like most people not really knowing how to respond.
“He’s doing twenty five years of hard time.” Eliot said with another shrug. “Breakfast came.” He said handing Nate his food. “When you’re finished eating I’m gonna take a look at your injuries. Don’t want you dieing on me.”
They ate in silence for awhile after that, both lost in their thoughts. It was only after Eliot was sitting behind Nate, picking the gravel and dirt out of the cuts on his back and mumbling about Nate not taking care of himself that either really said anything.
“It’s none of my business but what were you dreaming about?” Nate asked and Eliot paused for a moment, wondering how or if he even should answer that.
That something in him didn’t mind the personal question and wanted to answer because it was Nate should have been more surprising.
Finally he sighed. “I was dreaming about Nishka’s dungeons. It hasn’t been that long since I escaped. I guess…”
“This brought back bad memories?” Nate filled.
“Yeah.”
“If you were still as hurt from that as you were why did you do this job? You should know better.”
Eliot let out a long breath, that pain flaring up again as he thought about Ammie. He curled his hand closed, feeling the ghost of the promise ring he’d given her in the palm of his hand. “I don’t know. I was a mess.”
“I could tell.” Nate commented. “First time I saw you you looked like you were waiting for death to get the memo.” It was a statement but the question was obvious.
Eliot closed opened his mouth and closed it, his chest tightening as he tried to put into words what he’d been carrying around all this time. “Theres this girl… knew her since I was a kid. Use’d ta patch me up sometimes. She was the one who got me ta run when I did. She and her dad were family and no matter how long I was gone I could come home ta her. For years they’ve been all I’ve had.” His voice faded away for a second. “We were talking about getting engaged but I went off on this job and got caught by Nishka. I spent three months in his dungeons. Only reason I escaped before I died was cause I kept tellin’ myself I was gonna get out and marry her.”
He shook his head, bitter laugh escaping his lips. “I finally get back to see her and she’s engaged to someone else. She told me not to come back. I don’t know if I was running or trying to get myself killed but I didn’t have anything left but the job after that. So I did a job.”
Nate was quiet. Which wasn’t surprising considering what he’d just been told.
“So yeah. I was already messed up then put back into a place, which didn’t exactly bring back good memories. I’d had enough.”
Nate was still quiet.
So Eliot went back to his work.
Sometime later Nate finally spoke. “When you get out of here what are you going to do?” The real question was obvious.
“I don’t know. A week ago I’d probably say pick a fight with someone who’d kill me but now… I don’t know.” He grinned a little. “Probably another job, it’s what I do and I need money.”
“If you didn’t need money what would you do?”
That earned a laugh from Eliot before he realized it was a serious question. “Normally horses... but I… her daddy owned a stable so I don’t think.” He sighed. “Honestly I don’t know. My whole life’s been what I had ta do, not what I wanted.” He sighed. “If I could… I’d do somthin’ to leave a mark. Somthin’ to let the world know I was here for once. Those in my line live and fight and die without leaving anything more than a trail of bodies behind. I don’t want ta be that.”
Nate nodded but didn’t respond.
Eliot finished soon after that and they both moved, setting out the chess board without even needing to speak. They were four moves in when Nate spoke.
“I don’t think IYS is coming for me. I know you’re leaving as soon as you can escape but you think you can give your old teacher a couple lessons before you go?”
“Lessons, maybe” Eliot said slowly as he moved. “But I think I can do better.” He’d never done it before but he’d been making plans for days.
“Huh?”
Eliot looked up, meeting Nate’s eyes. “I’ll getcha outta here myself.”
Previous: Chapter Four
Next: Chapter Six