Title: None So Blind
Author: Trowa B
Rating: FRA
Notes: For once not a comment fic... This may spawn more. I don't know. It may have sprung into being fully formed but the words weren't there...
Summary: Nate learns something about one of his team that will have far reaching implications.
*****
"iI ain'tcher daddy/i," Eliot had snarled at him before storming from the hotel room, and it had taken Nate too long to figure out that tone, too long to figure out what the words left unsaid had been.
It had taken, in fact, until he had seen the younger man arm in arm with Maggie at the IYS soiree for him to make the connection and fill in the blanks, and all he could think then was, "He looks so much like Sam." He almost flubbed then; managed to pass it off as the alcohol later with the team and he kept meaning to talk to Eliot about it, but it was never the right moment. It made sense of so much, from the way Eliot had refused to back off even after Nate had snapped at him that they weren't friends, to the way he had been more pissed at Sophie for using Nate's grief against him than for her betrayal of the team as a whole – and he'd been plenty pissed about that.
It also explains how he finds himself here, at the airport, standing with the other four, saying that they should split up, while all he wants to do is say, "Hang the fallout," and tell Eliot he knows everything. But it's still not the right moment; the words refusing to come, and they all turn to go.
Sophie is the first to move off. He had expected it of her, for all she kept making eyes at him, her independence still more of a draw than any team. It had been why she had tried to cheat them, after all. Her footsteps don't falter. She doesn't look back; doesn't even falter to consider doing so.
Parker and Hardison go together, and that he didn't expect. Or maybe he did, and was trying to keep it blocked from his mind. Either way they're not out there alone, and he can't help but be glad.
Eliot though. He wouldn't have heard the man's footsteps unless he wanted to be heard. He could have left at any point since they all turned away, and Nate sighs quietly. It may not be the right time for this, but there's a feeling of 'now or never' about this whole situation, and it's this more than anything that makes up his mind.
"How long have you known?" he asks softly, voice cracking as he puts all his faith in the younger man still being there.
The silence stretches for so long that he thinks he's alone, but then there's a tiny scuff of booted foot on concrete and abruptly Eliot is at his side. He's looking more unsure than Nate has ever seen him, shoulders slumped, head down.
"Kinda always known," he says. "Mama always had your picture." He snorts in something that might almost have been amusement and shakes his head. "Didn't know what ta do when I saw you that first time. Nearly messed up the job." He shrugs slightly. "Didn't realise you didn't know 'bout me til then," he adds softly, "And then what could I do? You'd got married, had Sam."
The silence after Eliot's comment stretches, both men thinking of might-have-beens, before Nate heaves a sigh, part relief, part resignation, and slings an arm over Eliot's shoulders. "C'mon then, son," he says, trying out the long unused word, "You can buy your old man a beer and nag him about stopping drinking."
Eliot snorts in something that's mostly amusement. "Do I look like Sophie?" he demands gruffly, using an elbow to dig Nate in the ribs and Nate shrugs.
"Maybe a little round the hair."