AN: Whoa, still a lot of interest in this 'verse, huh? It's been about a year and a half since I started it, and I had no idea that it would 1) get this long or that 2) people will still be reading it and enjoying it. Thanks!


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Still

Lindsey follows Eliot into Nate's spare bedroom, now transformed into a part-time bedroom for Eliot (he lives at Lindsey's place the rest of the time).

Although he knows that Eliot is in the room somewhere, when he first steps in, he can't place where he is. Then ah-hah! There, under the bed.

He walks on over to the Batman-themed bed and sits down on the floor next to it with a sigh.

"C'mon outta there, El," he says, "I can't talk to ya if I can't see ya."

"Sure ya can," comes the muffled reply, "What're ya doin' now?"

Lindsey huffs. "C'mon, El." He crouches on his hands and knees with a disgruntled grumble and peers under the bed. His now baby brother's face looks back at him, eyes suspiciously shiny. Bandit, also hiding under the bed, licks his muzzle.

"Eliot. Come out."

"Go 'way, Linny," Eliot says, and scoots back further with a sniffle, burying his face in the dog's spotted side.

"I'm not goin' in there after ya," Lindsey says.

"Then don't! Go 'way!"

"No." Lindsey sits up and leans his back against the bedside table. "I'm stayin' right here 'til you get out from under there."

"Not gonna," Eliot says stubbornly. Lindsey's hand is right there, dangling in his sightline, and it's just begging to be stabbed. Or something. Tickled? Lindsey always was a ticklish bastard. Nah, Eliot decides. He really wants to stab something right now.

"So what?" Lindsey says mildly, "You're gonna stay down there until Judgment Day? Huh? You gotta eat. You expectin' me ta bring you food?"

There's silence from the darkness under the bed. "They're laughin' at me," Eliot says, sounding small and so young.

Lindsey's heart breaks a little at the smallness of his brother's voice. "No one's laughin', buddy." The endearment slips out unwittingly.

"Liar," Eliot says sullenly, "Lie alla time."

Lindsey rolls his eyes. "Maybe, but it's not funny, and no one's laughin'. Promise." Well, except it was funny before, when he didn't know that he couldn't fix it. Now, witnessing his brother's pain, no, it's not funny, not a bit.

"Liar."

"Eliot, come on. Please?" Lindsey sighs. "Look, this sucks, I know. Okay? I know. And I'm sorry I let it happen. I shoulda been there. All that surveillance I'd been doin' on you and the team, I shoulda known what kinda job you were walkin' into, and I shoulda come. I'm sorry."

Eliot starts sliding out from under the bed slowly, slowly.

"This," Lindsey gestures angrily in Eliot's direction without looking at him, his voice full of self-hate, "This was my fault. I shoulda known. And I shoulda been able to fix it. I'm sorry."

Eliot creeps the rest of the way out and tugs on Lindsey's sleeve. "It wasn't your fault. I was the one who was careless. Wasn't your fault."

Lindsey looks up at him through long-ish bangs, and...smirks. "Gotcha!" he exclaims, and bundles Eliot into his arms.

"Hey!" Eliot cries, squirming in his brother's strong grip, "You tricked me! Liar! You big fat liar!"

He struggles and struggles – Bandit looks worriedly between Master and Smells-Like-Master, unsure of who to help because Smells-Like-Master would never hurt Master – and with an almighty kick in Lindsey's gut, is able to get away until Lindsey tackles him from behind.

"Eliot," he grunts, "Eliot, hey, hey. Calm down, bud."

Angry tears slide down Eliot's cheeks in an unstoppable torrent and he flaps and flails his arms and legs mindlessly, trying to get away.

"Eliot, hey, shhhhh. It's okay, it's okay." Lindsey's hold on him is strong, but it doesn't hurt. He's not trying to hurt Eliot.

So he calms down enough that Lindsey looses his grip. Then, he scoots away and glares at him the best he can through streaming eyes and trembling lips. Bandit finally settles for lying down in the space between them.

Lindsey sits back, too, just looking at Eliot with an unreadable expression.

Eliot's nose is running, so he first gives it a tentative sniffle, then takes a good loud sniff.

Lindsey softens. "C'mere," he says gently, and draws Eliot into his lap.

Eliot shoves him and scrambles out of his grip. "I'm not a baby! I don't need cuddles, Linny!"

Lindsey shrugs. "Yeah, well, maybe I do, so sit still and cuddle, dammit!" With that, he reaches out again and tugs Eliot around his middle.

Eliot knows damn well that he's being manipulated into being babied, but for now, he just leans into his brother's chest and lets himself be comforted. But only because Linny needs it. He does. That's the only reason.

And if Lindsey's shirt gets wet around the shoulder, well, that's only because Linny sweats weird.

A warm hand rubs circles on his back and it feels...good. He hiccups and clenches Lindsey's shirt in his fist.

"You okay?" Lindsey murmurs into his hair.

Not trusting his voice, Eliot nods, then a moment later, changes his mind and shakes his head no.

Lindsey squeezes him harder. "Okay," he whispers, "Let it out, just let it out. It's okay."

Eliot hiccups again. "Don't tell?" he asks, voice wavering, "Don't tell the others, 'kay?"

Lindsey nods, "Okay. I won't tell. Wild horses, El. Promise."

"I'm scared," Eliot tells him, "I'm scared of losin' myself. I'm scared o' forgettin' who I am. But sometimes, I like being little and…and then I hate it. I hate this. I hate being confused alla time."

"I know, I know. But you're still you," Lindsey says, repeating Eliot's words from before. He runs his fingers through the tangled curls. "Smaller, and more annoying," he teases, "but still you. I've known you all our lives, so take it from me, you're still you. Whatever happens, you're still you."

Eliot shrugs, face still glued to Lindsey's shoulder.

"Hey," Lindsey says, nudging him away so that he can look at the boy's face. "Hey, I won't let you forget who you are, okay?" He wipes away the tears with his thumb. "Alright? Promise. I'll take care of you. Always. Doesn't matter what size you are. I'll always have your back."

There's a rustling outside the door - Parker and Hardison. Or rather, the sounds are all Hardison, and the feeling - that's Parker.

"Don't even think about openin' that door," Lindsey hollers, anxious about the rest of the team seeing Eliot in this state.

There's some whispering behind the door, then some more rustling.

"You didn't hafta yell at them," Eliot says, scrubbing his face with a sleeve.

Lindsey blinks down at him. "I didn't? Hey, ew, don't use your sleeve, man. That's gross."

Eliot glares at him. "Then what am I supposed ta use?" he asks, making clear the lack of tissues in the room.

Lindsey levels his best bitch-face at him, and stands up, purposely dumping the kid out of his lap as he does so. "Fine," he says, "Stay put. I'll be right back."

Eliot mutters an ear-burning invective at him as he firmly closes the door and looks left and right to check that the thief and hacker aren't still hanging around.

He slips to the bathroom and emerges with a roll of toilet paper. Going back into Eliot's room, he tears a couple of pieces off and holds the tissue to Eliot's nose. "Blow," he instructs.

Eliot's glare is scathing. He snatches the paper out of Lindsey's fingers and growls, "I can blow my own damn nose!"

"Alright, alright," Lindsey says, backing up pacifically, "It's not like I wanted your snot all over my hand anyway."

He gets a used tissue thrown in his face for that. Sighing dramatically, he offers the toilet paper to his brother. "Need more?"

Eliot sniffles and takes the roll. "Don't tell."

Lindsey smiles. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Eliot narrows his eyes. "You promised."

"I did."

"Linny."

"What?"

"Linny."

"I said I wouldn't tell," Lindsey says, "Don't you believe me?" He pastes on his most earnest expression.

"No."

Lindsey chuckles and stands up. "I'd better get out there before they start thinking that I've finally committed fratricide."

Eliot shrugs.

"You gonna be okay?"

Nod.

Lindsey looks down at the forlorn figure stubbornly trying to look grown-up. "Holler if ya need me," he says, looks to Bandit – "Take care of him" – and leaves.

Closing the door, he sighs and rubs a hand over his face. Crap. He hates this, he really does. Yet again, he finds himself considering that solution, but reminds himself that it's only a last resort. The last resort.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


References:

"You're still you" - Eliot says "I'm still me" to Lindsey in "The Sky's Gonna Open."

The "solution" is a reference to the end of SGO, when Lindsey turns up with a spell that would turn Eliot back into an adult, but at the price of a blood sacrifice...Don't worry! I'm not gonna do that here, okay?