Summary: And your hand shakes. Set during The 12-Step Job. Oneshot.
Warnings: Highly recommend you watch The 12-Step Job. This might not make so much sense if you don't.
Disclaimer: I don't own Leverage, sadly.
OOOO
The Bomb Job
It's a bomb.
This isn't anythng new. You've faced down bombs before. But before, you've always been alone. You've always worked on your own, with no one to watch out for but yourself. Even if you've had team members behind you, you didn't trust them, couldn't trust them, because they were mercenaries just like you, hired hands who could be bought for the right amount.
You never liked that word. Mercenary. You prefer retrieval specialist. It's a little more vague, a little less violent-sounding. But no matter what title you put on it, a mercenary is all you are. You just happen to be better at retrieving things than killing. But you can kill, if you have to. You have killed, because you had to. It's not something unfamiliar.
And you've faced down bombs. You've been in wars and you've been shot at and tortured and drugged doing your job, and yes, there have been bombs. No surprise there. It seems like there's always someone who wants to kill you, and bombs are the easiest way to try. Bombs can be accessed remotely, and the mess is someone else's to deal with.
Even now, even with this new life, you still check for bombs, because there are people out there who would do anything to have you dead. Even if it means killing your new team. You've been out of that life for a while now, but people still want you dead. So every night you check doors and windows and underneath tables, as quietly as you can, just to make sure. Just to be certain that no one else will get hurt because someone wants you dead.
So you know bombs, and you've dealt with them before.
But it's always been just you. All those other times, all those other bombs, you were the only one you had to worry about.
Now you have to worry about him too, because he's just a skinny, loud-mouthed computer geek who hasn't dealt with bombs before. Not the way you have. He's dealt with them remotely, computer bombs that he can take out from far away. He's never been close enough to see the timer counting down, to touch the wires as you try to figure out which one to cut so you'll live. To feel your breath catch in your throat as fear convinces you that you're going to die, to have sweat dripping into your eyes as you frantically try to figure out how to disarm it.
He's never sat on a bomb before.
You see the terror in his eyes when you tell him, the hysteria as he tries to get out of the car, and you want to let him go, want to let him get as far away as possible. But if you do that, then you'll both die, so you force him back into the seat and you cut through the hysteria like a knife.
It's alright. You can do this. You can both get through this.
Then you get back down on your belly and see the timer, and your stomach sinks. A bag of rocks is a stupd idea, but there are other ideas you can try, given enough time.
There is no time.
You explain the bomb, talking quickly because you don't have much time, and he says something about rebooting the system. Reboot? Whenever you have computer troubles, you always---
"You want me to kick it?"
---and he moans that he's going to die. Computers aren't your thing. You know how to fight and protect and can identify the sounds of gunfire. Computers are his thing, and even though he's been teaching you, it's still a helluva lot easier to just kick the machine and hope it starts working again.
But he's not going to die. You won't let him.
More talking. Instructions. You stare at the mess of wires under the hood, feeling nervous and sick. You haven't felt this way in a long time. There's a whole lot of wires here, and if you make a mistake, you'll both end up dead.
You're fine with risking your own life. You do it all the time.
But you don't work alone anymore. He's more than just an annoying nerd, he's a part of the team and something more. You hate to admit it, but Aimee was right when she said you had a family. You denied it then, but now, you can feel it. You're scared. Scared because it's entirely possible you'll lose a member of your family, right here and now, and it'll be all your fault because you just weren't fast enough.
Deep breath. Calm down.
You can do this. Just yank the wires out. Half second margin of error.
Oh god, you're both going to die---
He asks, "Are you ready?"
Do or die, you're going to pull those wires.
You reach out, into the hood.
And your hand shakes.
OOOO
I was re-watching Leverage with my mom, and this plot bunny hit me as I was watching the scene with the car and the bomb. Eliot's hand totally shakes. So I wrote this. It's the first time I've written second-person/present-tense, and since I've always wanted to try it, I hope I pulled it off. I think this tense fits in better with the story anyway.
Here's hoping you liked it!
~See you!
