No Second Chances by Disoriented
A/N: So…be prepared, this is sort of a weird AU plot. I give you warning for Character!Death and there is also a tinge of the supernatural involved. There aren't any pairings except maybe a hint of Nate/Sophie.
Synopsis: What if the team had never been formed? AU. The Nigerian Job never happened and Nate is sunk in drunken depression until he gets advice from a friend he didn't know he ever had.
(Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.)
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Nate heard about it by a fluke really. He had been living in his car for the last half of the month, only going out to get more liquor or take a piss. There were calls from Maggie on his phone but he didn't even bother to listen to them.
Life was a drag. His son was dead, he was divorced and he was unemployed. But hey, at least there was such a thing as alcohol.
He was currently in a bar, idling drinking. The seats on either side of him were empty, partly because of the dark dreary bubble he had around himself and mostly because he didn't smell all that good.
"Hey, Ford!" Nate turned to see a man walking over, smiling. It took him a second to recognize the guy. Tommy Dean. He had met him during his work hours, but the guy didn't work for IYS. He was sort of an information broker. It had been Nate who had helped him really get on his feet and get business running properly.
"Hey, it's been awhile, how's it going?" Tommy said, far to cheerfully. Nate raised an eyebrow at the question, not sure why the guy didn't just get the answer from Nate's appearance.
"Not so good, Tommy. How about you?" Nate replied dryly. Tommy shrugged.
"Nothing really interesting is going down. I've been helping out a few big companies like yours but I haven't really been having fun lately." Ah that's right, Tommy actually really got off on the criminal information like it was gossip or something. Nate turned away, disgusted by the turn of conversation or maybe just conversation in general.
"Right, well, Tommy, I guess you should be-"
"Hey, Nate, listen, I heard you quit or something a little while back. But I thought you still might want to hear some information I picked up that's connected to a few of your cold cases." Tommy interrupted, sitting down. "It probably won't help the case but I heard that the guy you chased got killed. Eliot Spencer." Oh, yeah, Eliot the mercenary. Hmmm, see told ya Tommy was a gossip. Loved sharing news, even if it's not important.
"You sure? When I knew him, nobody could kill Eliot Spencer." Nate commented without much interest.
"Oh yeah, I'm sure. It's big news for a lot of the criminal underground. The guy certainly had a reputation." Nate nodded absently and started on his drink again. Tommy looked awkwardly out the window and then back.
"So, Nate, what I really wanted to say was…well you were one of the best agents I've ever met so…why did you quit?" Nate almost rolled his eyes. Of course this was the real reason Tommy came over.
"The dental plan wasn't good enough." Nate said sarcastically, after a long swig.
"Huh? Nate, come on, I-" Nate turned to look Tommy in the eye. Nate wasn't sure if it was the annoyance, drunkenness or sheer misery that finally forced Tommy to admit defeat.
"See ya around, Ford." And he left.
"No, you won't." Nate muttered to himself.
As he took another drink, a thought struck him. Eliot Spencer was dead, huh? Some how that just seemed…wrong. Nate knew that the guy had done some nasty stuff although he didn't know the particulars. On the other hand, Nate had met him before.
He had been…well different. Eliot had been one of those criminals that made you think 'if things had just happened differently, maybe he could have been a good person.' Of course, Eliot would have argued against that point strongly.
Nate shrugged off the stray sorrowful thought, blaming the alcohol. Or maybe his mind was so twisted by now that he took every available opportunity to make himself even more miserable. Didn't matter, anyway. Nothing mattered anymore.
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A year later Nate had a low paying job and was only living in his car half the time. He wasn't getting better. No, he was merely settling into a more 'long term' self-destruct life plan. It was amazing he hadn't been fired yet because he always came to work drunk.
But one thing he never did was steal or lie. All the liquor he got was paid for, he parked his car legally every time and he never let his drunken mind lead him into a fight or into doing something crazy to finally unleash the raging revengeful anger inside of him. Nate told people he was a functioning alcoholic. He really was just emotionally stonewalled, unable to let go of the bitter fire inside of him even while drunk.
And then of course Sophie had to show up. He hadn't seen her in two years and yet she still looked exactly the same. Perfect. Always perfect. He didn't even want to think about what he looked like to her.
"Haven't seen you in awhile." She said softly, taking the seat next to him. He was, of course, in a bar again although not the same one. No, he had gotten the shitty job in Boston, his hometown. Crawled back into the hole that he had escaped from so long ago.
"Yeah, Soph. Having a blast without me out there?" Nate said, faking energy that he didn't have.
"No, not really." She paused. "It's been a year, Nate." Nate let out a laugh that was cold and lifeless.
"No, Sophie, two years. Wouldn't have thought you would forget the last time we met that easily." Sophie sighed and looked down, away from Nate.
"You know what I'm talking about." Nate nodded and turned back to his drink. Yes, he knew what she was talking about. Sophie looked back up at him and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder.
"Come with me, Nate. Get out of Boston, travel. You and me, we could do anything we wanted." Her voice was now earnest.
"I'm not a criminal, Sophie. Besides, I have to stay in Boston." Nate said without looking at her.
"Why?"
"Its…its where I belong." It was? Because this was where his father had lived? Because this was where he was born? Because this was where his mother was buried? Or was it simpler like this was where his favorite bar was?
A thought crossed his mind as he searched. Eliot was dead. Yeah he died a year ago, it had nothing to do with Boston. He glanced at Sophie and the same feeling came. No, Sophie had nothing to do with Boston either. Something was missing. God, he was drunk.
"I'll see you around, Nate." Sophie said softly and then she left. Nate added the, 'no you won't' only in his mind.
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It was three years later and nothing had really changed. Nate had ended up being fired but he got another job…and then another. He still went to the same bar. And once again he was sitting in a seat, drinking and trying not to think too much.
"Look lady, why are you here if you don't want anything?" Nate glanced over to where the bartender was talking to a girl. She looked a bit familiar but Nate didn't bother to place her.
"I just wanted to come here and…and just be here, ok?" She said. The bartender shrugged and left.
"A bar is a place where you drown your sorrows. You're not supposed to simply sit with your sorrows." Nate said absently for no particular reason.
"I'm not sad." The girl denied, scooting over to the seat next to his.
"Sorry, my mistake. You just look sad then." Nate mocked, now wanting the conversation he started to end.
"I'm not sad." The girl repeated. "I just feel all wrong inside and when I do things I love, they don't make me smile anymore." Nate raised an eyebrow and looked at the girl again. She was blonde, pretty even though she obviously made no attempt to make herself attractive. And she did look familiar; Nate just couldn't place it yet.
"Sorry to break it to you but your sad." Nate told her. She gave him a small frown.
"So that's how you feel too? Your sad, right?"
"Yeah sure, I'm sad." He took another drink. "Thus the 'drowning my sorrows' thing." The girl gave a 'your silly' look and let loose a strange laugh.
"Ha, that doesn't make you feel better. Drink makes people dangerous, angry, not happy." She said with a child like conviction. Nate got the impression that she had gained that opinion through experience.
"Yeah, well, at least your not as sad anymore." Nate sighed. There was a silence. Not awkward but thoughtful, each thinking over what had been said and what could still be said.
"If that's the only reason you drink, Nate, then why don't you actually do something that does make you happy?" Nate looked at her in surprise at the use of his name and then it clicked. Parker. Parker, the best thief in the world was sitting with him at a bar talking about happiness. Oh boy.
"Yeah well, like you said, things that used to make you smile don't work anymore." Nate sighed.
"Are you going to commit suicide?" Nate blinked, starring at her in surprise.
"No."
"Oh well I always thought the reason people killed themselves was that they couldn't find anything to make them happy anymore. That's why I came here, to find something that will make me happy." Parker explained.
"So you came to a small bar in Boston? Why?" Nate asked.
"I don't know. I… I just needed to be in Boston." Parker shrugged, looking thoughtfully at the wall and then gave a shudder like she was simply throwing off an emotion, a piece of herself.
"Bye, Nate." She turned and left and Nate went back to his drink. Both him and Parker knew that they wouldn't 'see each other around'.
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A mere half a year later, Nate was dully watching the news in; you guessed it, the bar. Apparently some big arrest had been made in a computer fraud case.
"Hey, get me a beer, will ya?" Nate turned to glance to his side where a young black man was ordering. He did a double take and then looked back up at the screen.
"Yah, that's yesterday's footage. They don't know it, but I'm already sprung." The guy next to him said with a grin. The same guy on the screen. The same guy that Nate had known five years ago.
"Alec Hardison, what're doing in my town?" Nate asked, of course too drunk to have real interest in his voice.
"Your town? Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see your name written on it. I'll leave in a bit, ok?" Nate couldn't help but grin slightly into his glass.
"Not like you to get caught, is it?"
"Yeah, well." Hardison hung his head slightly, his cheery attitude starting to drop. "Not like you to quit either."
"That was a while ago now."
"I still remember. Sorry dude, everybody heard what happened." Nate turned to glare angrily at Hardison. He didn't want sympathy from a criminal like him. However, Hardison still had his head lowered, subdued and slightly sad. The situation reminded Nate of his encounter with Parker.
"You gonna tell me why you let yourself get caught?" Nate said, his anger drained. Hardison's head shot up and he starred at Nate.
"How did you…?" Hardison shifted and sighed, deciding it was better not to ask. "Job didn't feel right, you know? Hacking, it's the best thrill ride ever. But lately, well, not so much."
"Yeah, that seems to be going around." Nate muttered.
"I didn't know you were here, honestly Nate. Haven't thought about you in awhile. I just came to try a different setting. Tried to get the juices up and running again." Hardison gestured toward the screen. "Didn't work."
"Why Boston?" Nate asked instantly. Hardison shrugged.
"I don't know. Just…felt like I could find something here." Hardison finished his beer with a flourish and put money on the counter.
"Hey, stay strong, bro." Hardison stood up and left. Just like when Sophie left, just like when Parker left, he knew he would never see Hardison again. Just like he would never see Eliot again.
He turned around in his seat and starred at the empty bar. Real slow night. He sat there starring and drinking for an hour. And then, after almost five years something caught his attention enough to waken him slightly.
There was a strange picture faint but slowly getting stronger. Figures that Nate recognized all sitting at a round table in the back. He, Nate, was one of them and he was actually happy. Sophie was sitting at his side and they were in love again, he could tell just by looking into their eyes.
Parker, that crazy thief, had an arm thrown around Alec Hardison's shoulder while they were all laughing at somebody else's joke. That somebody else was Eliot Spencer. Eliot wasn't a picture though. He was talking, smiling and then he turned and he looked right at the real Nate. Standing up he walked over.
"Hey, Nate, been awhile." Nate nodded. Eliot took the seat next to him.
"I don't think you ever really liked me." Eliot said to him, reaching over to take a swig of Nate's drink.
"I liked you Eliot. As much as you deserved."
"Ouch." Eliot grinned. "Well, I guess I earned that. Never did do anything good with my life."
"Yeah, and now your dead." Nate gave Eliot a very pointed look.
"Right, I'm dead. Meaning I shouldn't be here. Funny that." Eliot looked thoughtfully at the far wall, taking another drink from Nate's glass.
"What's funny?" Nate said with slight annoyance.
"Well, I'm dead, Nate, meaning I get to know a few stuff." Eliot said swinging around to face him.
"Or meaning that you're not real." Nate muttered. Eliot ignored him.
"And the truth is I really am supposed to be here. Right here." He tapped the counter top. "Same as Sophie and Hardison and Parker. Of course, you went and blew that." Nate glared at him and Eliot looked back, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Your determined to stay the same, aren't you?"
"I'm nothing like how I was before." Nate said bitterly.
"You sure about that? All that happened to you and you still refuse to do something about it? Sometimes, Nate, you got to break the law to fix what's important."
"So you want me to be a criminal? Like you?" Nate accused. Eliot faced the bar, taking another drink.
"No." For a second Eliot looked angry. Not angry at Nate, but at something else. "Nothing like me, Nate. No, we were all changed into a different kind of criminal. You always called it, 'starting where the law leaves off'."
"I never said that."
"No." Eliot sighed. "I guess you didn't. Like I said, you haven't changed. Your stubborn and proud and you just won't do what's best for yourself. People, when they loose something they love, they hate the thought of getting something else that makes them as happy because it feels like their replacing the thing lost. But Hardison, Parker, even Sophie they don't have anything to loose in the first place because you can't let go."
"How am I supposed to let go? And why the hell are you giving me advice. I don't even know you, Eliot." Nate snapped. That caused Eliot to take another drink from the glass. And then he pointed to the back table again.
"You could've." Nate turned to look at the happy picture again. He glanced at Eliot and then back.
"No second chances, uh?" Nate asked listlessly. Eliot shrugged.
"I guess not with me. But Hardison, Parker and Sophie were always a bit more forgiving."
"Why Parker and Hardison? I've chased hundreds of criminals, why them?"
"Why don't you meet them and find out." Eliot smiled and finished off Nate's drink.
"Good luck, Nate! See ya in hell, right?" Eliot grinned and then pushed himself off the seat, heading for the door. He gestured at the picture. "If you're lucky, Nate, you will get a second chance."
"But…" Nate hesitated, something strong suddenly stirring inside him, "but you're not in it anymore." And for some reason that was a terrible thing. That feeling Nate had gotten four and half years ago when talking to Tommy suddenly amplified. Nate now knew he hadn't felt sad back then because of the whiskey or the raw heartache of Sam. He was sad because for some reason he cared about a man he met only briefly once or twice while trying to throw him in prison. Eliot Spencer shouldn't be dead; he didn't want him to be.
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Eliot said thoughtfully, standing by the bar door. "When I said I get to know a few stuff cause I'm dead and all that shit, didn't mean I know everything. You guys might be able to manage without me," Then he smirked teasingly again, "but probably not. If you see them, tell Hardison to shut up for me and tell Parker she's crazy as a loon." Then he was gone.
Nate turned to look at the back table and saw it was empty just like it should be. The bar tender was still working and showed no signs that Nate had just had a conversation with himself.
Huh…God, he was drunk.
Grabbing his glass, he made to gulp the whole thing down. Except…it was empty. Nate glared, sighed, sat the cup down and stood up to go home.
He woke up the next morning with a hangover and not much memory of what happened earlier. Big surprise, that's the way life had been since Sam. But one thing was different this morning.
That feeling when Sophie had left as well as Parker and Hardison, the feeling that he would never ever see them again. That feeling was gone.
END
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A/N: Ok, that's it, just a one shot. I swear, I have much happier Leverage Fics in my documents, they just aren't finished yet! If you're mad at me for killing Eliot well…review anyway. I'm not a newbie on Fanfiction or anything but I rarely post any stories of my own and reviews would really help to draw me out!
Thanks for reading and I hope it wasn't too weird and you enjoyed it!