Before Charlie there was Eliot, though none of the girls knew him by that name.
As Tanner Chasson he was the preteen stablehand who gave six year old Alex her love for bows and horses, the starting quarterback who taught awkward Natalie how to dance and drive, and the returning soldier who taught rebelling Dillon how to play the guitar and fight. To them he was their first hero, their older brother who knew more about them than anyone else, the only one with no preset expectations or perceptions; to them he was Tan-Tan, Tanner, and T-man.
A few deaths and wars and black-ops later he would come back not as Tanner Chasson, but as Raymond Colt. He would give Alex her love of cooking even if she couldn't make a thing with the quiet words "Everything is in context. Figure out that context and everything else falls into place." He would give Natalie her love of bird calls as he whispered in her ear "Each call is distinctive, different as night and day, and that difference is what makes each one uniquely beautiful." He would give Dillon her love of words and how they fit together as he stated "Words are weapons, just like guns, and ya need to know how to use them whether ya like them or not." To them he was their mentor, their anchor when they set off into the real world, and if they never knew about the kidnappers that never got near Alex, the would-be Rapist who disappeared after meeting Natalie, or the abusive drunk dad who died soon after finding where his wife had hidden his child, all the better.
A few year later and multiple lost opportunities for all three girls, Eliot Spencer could be seen in a bar drinking a beer. He had just been betrayed by the army, betrayed by the very organization he gave everything too, and betrayed by the one he asked to marry him. He was no longer Tanner, the friendly southern boy who could be a friend to three lonely girls, and he was no longer Raymond, the strong, silent soldier who would be their protector. No, he was Eliot Spencer, a bitter man who barely contained the violence branded into his soul on a good day, a man who had no business being around the girls. He looks up when the bell rings to see a man enter, his face hidden beneath a wide brimmed hat.
"Hello Eliot. What can I do for you?"
"Protect my girls Charlie. They're angels and they'll need some help to keep their wings white."
"What about you?"
"I've already fallen. Ain't much ya can do for me, and they certainly don't need a demon, not one like me. I'll just tear them down with me. Protect my angels Charlie, and help them ta fly."
Charlie watches the man walk away without so much as a goodbye, and looking at the pictures of the three girls in the file left for him. He can do this for the man who had saved his life 3 times over, though he would insist that it was only 2 1/2. He could protect the three little angel girls that the brightest angel fell for, and meanwhile he would pray that even if Eliot never could regain the white wings of childhood that he could at least find another way to fly.