Title: It Ain't Easy
Author: Trapper Creek Kaniac
Fandom: Leverage
Category: Romance/Angst/Family
Pairing: Eliot/Aimee
Rating: T
Warning(s): One or two expletives.
Summary: Eliot returns to find that Aimee has moved on and gotten married. Written for the Leverage Fan Media's Fall Festival of Fiction "It's All in the Backstory" challenge.
Prompt: Write about Eliot returning to find Aimee married...
Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage, all recognizable characters belong to the awesome show's creators John Rogers and Chris Downey; I am just having some fun with them.

Author's Note: I played with the time line a little bit... It's never been established how old Eliot really is, just that he's in his thirties. In my mind I like to think that Eliot is right around 33-34ish at the beginning of S4, which makes him old enough to have the career he's had, but young enough to take the hits he does.

Thanks to TriaKane for helping me catch my mistakes! Hope you enjoy!

Kentucky, September 2004

An old Garth Brooks song was playing on the radio as Eliot drove through Kensington, Kentucky. The window was down and he drove with one hand on the wheel, his other arm resting on the door, the wind ruffling his hair as he flew down Middleton Creek road. Kensington was on the outskirts of Louisville, near the heart of horse racing country. Horses inside white rail fences dotted the landscape; the scenery was beautiful this time of year. Up ahead he saw the driveway leading to the Martin farm.

He was finally coming home.

It had been years since he'd been down that driveway. The last time he'd left was burned into his memory as clear as if it had happened yesterday. Aimee had cried as she watched him drive away though he assured her that he would return, he always did. That had been a little over seven years ago. The black ops mission he was called away on took the better of a month to complete. News traveled fast in the crime world. It was only a couple of days later, after the mandatory debriefing, when Damien Moreau got a hold of him.

Eliot thought it best not to contact Aimee, lest Moreau find a reason to use the ones he loved as leverage against him. Several weeks turned into months and months turned into years. He became a cold-blooded killer, killing willingly whenever Moreau snapped his fingers and pointed at a target. There was no way he could bring himself to face Aimee like this, so he continued to put off contacting her. He told himself that it was better for the both of them that way.

Several more years passed. The bodies began to pile up and the blood on his hands thickened until he couldn't take it anymore. One of the Moreau's missions was the final straw for Eliot; he had finally had enough. The things he did under Moreau's orders weighed heavily on him and he knew that he would never be rid of the dark stain on his soul for as long as he lived. He broke away from Moreau and honed his skills as a retrieval specialist. Moreau was not pleased, and Eliot had to constantly be on guard, always looking over his shoulder. He would have been a death sentence to Aimee and her family.

The government was happy – though they would never admit it – to put him to work, as well as a multitude of rich fat cats that were willing to pay well to have him retrieve, and move, merchandise for them.

His last job had been to retrieve something called the Sapphire Monkey. Thanks to some bad information, Eliot barely escaped with his life – and sans monkey. While he was recovering, he had some time to think. At this point he was as safe from Moreau as he was ever going to be, he couldn't put off talking Aimee any longer.

And so here he was.

Mares grazed peacefully, a few young colts lifting their heads to look at the newcomer rattling down the driveway. Someone was working a bright bay colt on the dirt track.

As Eliot neared the house he recognized Aimee's Ford pickup backed up to one of the barns. The door was open and he could hear a Shenandoah song blasting on the radio. He parked his pickup in front of the house and made his way towards the barn. When he reached the pickup he saw that the bed was filled with bags of grain. Eliot leaned against the tailgate to wait for her to return for another bag. She appeared out darkness of the barn a few seconds later and stopped in her tracks when she saw him. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and a few strands had escaped were fluttering around her face in the light breeze.

"Eliot?" She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice.

Aimee could not believe what she was seeing. Eliot Spencer was leaning against the back of her pickup as casual as you please, like he had never been gone for the last seven years. His hair was longer, almost touching his shoulders, like it used to be before he joined the military. He looked older, too, like he'd seen too much in his absence. Still, she would know that handsome face and piercing blue eyes anywhere; they had broken her heart, after all.

"Aimee."

His voice sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't know if she would rather shove him up against the nearest wall and have her way with him, or strangle him. She'd been telling herself for the last four years that she was over him but that was easier said than done. Even though she had long since given up hope that Eliot would ever return, she still found herself occasionally letting her eyes wander to the ridge at the edge of the property, half expecting to see him coming up the drive.

"If you're expectin' a homecomin' parade, you're not gonna get one."

"Aimee." Eliot said again, and walked towards her.

"Seven years, Eliot!" Aimee exploded at him. He stopped. "That whole time, not a single word. Nothing. How do you – how does anybodyjustify that?" He could see tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

"My country needed me." He said simply. At one point that was true, but it had turned into so much more. He wasn't about to tell her the things he'd done.

Aimee angrily wiped away a tear. She wasn't going to cry, damn it. Now not, after all those restless nights where she lay in bed pondering all the unanswered questions that seemed follow him around.

"What about me? What about when I needed you, Eliot? Huh?"

Eliot didn't know what to say to that so he said the only thing he could think of, though he knew it would never be able to cover the hurt he saw so plainly in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Not good enough! I though you were dead. Hell, we all did!" She waved her arm to encompass all the people he'd left behind.

He moved swiftly and pulled her into his arms. She tried to fight against him but he silenced her by covering her lips with his. It was a passionate but bittersweet kiss and Eliot poured his heart and soul into it. She was the island to his stormy sea and he held onto her tightly.

"I love you," he murmured against her lips.

Aimee kissed him back desperately before pushing him away. She held up her left hand.

"Eliot, I'm married."

Eliot froze, his eyes on the diamond ring wrapped around a certain finger. "What?"

"I'm married." Aimee repeated.

"But, the ring I-" He swallowed and felt what was left of his heart begin to crack.

"Nothing but a promise that you walked out on a long time ago. Not all of us can spend the rest of our lives waitin' and hopin' you'll come back. Some need more than just a picture to hold, Eliot."

Eliot was silent for a long time and Aimee could see the hurt reflected in his eyes. Her own heart was breaking – again – but she would never let him know that.

"Do I know him?" he asked finally.

"No. He's a trainer. Eliot... just-just, please just go." Aimee wiped away more tears.

He stared at her a long moment. "Is Willy here?"

"No, he's off looking at a colt." With David, Aimee thought. "I'll be sure and tell him the prodigal son has returned," she retorted.

"Don't bother." Eliot growled and turned on his heel to stalk back to his pickup. This wasn't going to be one of their knock-down-drag-out fights followed by a round or two of passionate makeup sex.

He reached the truck, climbed in, slamming the door loudly and quickly started it, and took off down the driveway.

"Fuck!" Eliot exploded when he reached the road. He sent his fist flying into the dashboard. Why the hell hadn't he thought of this, he berated himself. How could he really expect her to wait for him that long when he had done nothing to deserve her. Deep down he knew that he wouldn't be able to give her the life with the white picket fence, that he would just end up leaving again, but that doesn't stop him from feeling like his heart was crushed beyond repair. His heart in pieces, Eliot turned onto the onto the main highway, to disappear into the sunset once again.

It was safe to say that his punching bag would take a beating that night.

Author's Note: Thanks again for reading! Hope you enjoyed it - reviews are always much appreciated!