What You're Worth


Nate was the one who found him first.

No, it was a combination effort. Sophie and Nate providing a profile, Parker adjusting their guess because Eliot would know their initial profile and unless he really just wanted to be found he'd go somewhere else, and Hardison actually did the locating.

They'd thought he'd hide out on a ranch, maybe some place he'd retire to.

It hurt a little more to find out he'd gone back to Chicago and was, as far as they could tell, living in an apartment in a bad part of the city.

Nate had been the first one to go after him though.

Over the long trip to get there he'd rehearsed what he'd say in his head, examining different strategies and different courses like a chess game.

Of course he didn't understand why Eliot had left which made this a little more difficult.

Oh sure, he'd seen the message on the back of the photo, knew Eliot thought he'd given them too much, that they didn't appreciate him but this was Eliot not some ninth grade girl who was left out when her friends went to junior prom.

There had to be something else.

He just needed to figure out what it was, fix it, and tell Eliot to come back home.

God, this was like Sophie all over again.

Was every member of the team going to go off taking a sabbatical without warning?

Eliot doesn't seemed surprised when Nate knocks on the door to the loft apartment he's staying him. He just opens the door, leans against the doorframe to block Nate's entry into the apartment, and waits.

With those blue eyes watching him impassively, face not hinting any emotion, Eliot looking like the Retrieval Specialist Nate had known years ago rather than Eliot Spencer…

His plans slipped between his fingers.

"Come back." Was all that actually came out. He and Eliot had always spoken much with few words and looks. A nod, a glance toward the teammates, a slightly concerned look, saying 'go ahead' or 'do your job' or 'are you hurt bad enough I need to pull you back?' "We need you."

With just two words he hoped Eliot understood that they needed him.

That they missed him.

He missed him.

It may have seemed like he'd just given Eliot an order but it was so much more than just an order.

Eliot pushed himself to stand straight and Nate thought he was about to let him into the apartment to further plead his case.

He didn't expect Eliot to close the door in his face.

oOo

Sophie was the second to go after Eliot, two weeks after Nate's failed attempt, making her way through the dimly lit hallway of his apartment building. She stopped outside what was supposedly his door, surprised by the sound of children laughing inside.

She'd barely knocked when he answered. "Come in." He said quietly, letting her inside.

A good sign she hoped.

Of course it could just be him letting the gentleman show through. Nate he could leave standing in his doorway but Sophie he'd at least let in and offer a chair.

She was surprised to find him half herding seven children under the age of ten away from the door. "No school today 'cause the school's mainline broke but their parent's couldn't stay home from work to watch 'em an' no one in this building can afford a sitter." He explained.

Too many emotions to identify them individually bubbled up from her chest as she watched Eliot, dressed down to blend in, watching protectively over the mass of children who all looked just a little too thin.

There was the smell of Eliot's tomato sauce coming from the apartment's make shift kitchen and she managed to smile a little.

"Stay for lunch." He offered to her. "Help me get 'em all fed and I'll let you say your bit."

It was a new experience, and one her jacket would certainly never forget, but forty minutes later the kids each had a heaping plate of spaghetti and tomato sauce and were eating contentedly. Sophie followed Eliot out the back window and onto the fire escape where they could talk in semi private but Eliot could keep a watch on the kids.

"We did a job." Sophie told him. "That's why I wasn't here the day after Nate. We did a job." She left the 'without you' in the silence. "Nate was as reckless as ever. Parker nearly got caught. Hardison has a black eye. The only reason neither has worse is because you taught them how to fight."

As she spoke Eliot's hands tightened on the railing, his body going tense, and Sophie knew at the very least he still cared.

That wasn't the problem.

"Come back." She urged him. "I know you're doing good even here but we did good together. If you're tired of fighting…"

Eliot gave a soft, bitter, almost brittle sounding bark of a noise that might have been called laughter if Sophie wasn't so familiar with Eliot's actual laugh. "You think it's because I'm tired of fightin'?"

Words, plans, her whole read on the situation slipped through Sophie's fingers.

She'd thought he was tired of fighting, tired of the violence and the injuries, and being treated like their glorified body guard and underestimated as just dumb muscle.

Yes, they needed his protection but they needed him more. If he wanted to stop fighting she'd teach him how to be a grifter and convince them all to learn how to fight.

He shook his head. "Violence is a part of me darlin'. I wouldn't stop fightin' any more than Parker would stop jumpin' off buildings."

"Then why did you leave?"

He met her eyes, anger there, but also resignation and exhaustion of a far different sort. "you're the grifter. Why didn't you know you had to stop me again?"

He looked away and slipped back into the apartment leaving Sophie with an answer she didn't want to consider.

oOo

Parker went after Eliot the day after Sophie.

She watched him from a distance as he walked out of the local grocery store with two bags full of groceries, watched him stop for just half a moment along the side of the sidewalk and curse for a reason she didn't understand.

She followed him back to his apartment and watched as he unloaded the groceries and realized he'd bought enough to feed five out of habit instead enough just for himself.

She bit her lip, swung into the apartment, and moved to help him.

He didn't even look surprised when she was suddenly there, helping him put away groceries. At least she knew where everything went from helping him before.

Eliot had few habits, but the ones he had stayed with him no matter where he went.

When everything was packed away she pushed herself up to sit on the counter, took a deep deep breath, and said. "Come back and I'll give you two million dollars."

He looked at her, surprise written across his face, and she took the opportunity to blaze forward, not letting herself pause. She didn't *want* to give him money but she wanted him back more than she wanted money.

That had been a big realization for her.

And she thought maybe if she offered to give him money he'd know he meant more to her than money and that would make him come back. Plus he'd have something left now.

Wasn't that what he said the problem was? He had nothing left?

"And that's just your coming back bonus. I'll give you a third of my cut from now on." She didn't need it right? She'd just… do a couple side jobs and she wouldn't even miss it. Plus. She'd have Eliot. Focus on Eliot.

Maybe if it worked she could tell the others and they could take turns.

His surprise turned into that soft smile he got sometimes when it was just the two of them and she was being herself and he said there was something wrong with her but not like it was a bad thing because he knew her now, and understood her even better than Hardison.

That smile was something she wanted back.

"That's sweet darlin'." He said pushing himself away from the counter. "But when I come back it's not gonna be 'cause someone paid me… even if that someone is you." Her hopes fell, though she had her money and the fact she was pretty sure he understood her offer as consolation.

"But you will come back?" She asked. "You promise when we figure out why you left and fix it you'll come back?"

He didn't answer right away, but Parker was patient. She watched as he moved around the kitchen, making dinner, making dinner enough for the both of them, without comment.

When he handed her a plate and a mug of cold tea with a splash of Orange soda (the way she liked it, even if she wasn't sure why he had a bottle of orange soda on hand) she let her hands rest over his. "Eliot?"

He let out a breath and she finally realized the name of that thing he'd been carrying around with him since before he walked out on them.

Exhaustion, resignation, like he was carrying something far too heavy to hold, but far too precious to let go.

And it was suffocating him.

"I don't know." He said simply, the words hollow, tired, uncertain, everything so very un Eliot but at the same time honest, like someone being honest for the first time and not sure what to do with it now that it's out there.

She watched him and felt like she was watching something break a little more.

"Why?" Parker asked.

He blinked at her, like people do when she asks them the question she wasn't supposed to ask.

There was that smile again, only with the look in his eyes it was all wrong. "'cause I don't think I'd be able to leave a second time if I had to." He answered. "I don't think there'd be enough of me left."

He took his hands away from hers, retreating to the fire escape without his food.

She ate her food quickly, telling herself she didn't need to savor it because it wasn't going to be the last meal he cooked for her, and joined him.

She didn't say anything, just sat beside him, scooched over close, and leaned against his shoulder.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they watched the city wake up as night fell and she held onto her brother as long as he'd let her.

And if when she walked out the buildings backdoor and down the street her eyes burned and her face got wet and she felt like she couldn't breathe because Eliot had told her goodbye before she left and he only did that when he didn't know if he was going to be seeing someone again she blamed it on the rain.

oOo

Hardison went after Eliot roughly twenty minutes after Parker got back to the suite they were all sharing while trying to steal themselves an Eliot.

The others had been nice. Well okay, Nate had ordered Eliot back which wasn't nice but Eliot usually appreciated a clear chain of command and yeah Parker had tried to pay him to come back but it was Parker and that was more than nice from Parker.

They had all been nice and as apologetic as people as emotionally stunted as them could be. They had fed Eliot's little temper tantrum

And really, Hardison had been convinced this was nothing more than a temper tantrum and if they stopped paying attention to it Eliot would just come back and they could try to get through that man- child's childhood trauma and fix the most recent emotional issue.

But that was *before* Parker came back trying to look like she hadn't been crying.

That was frikken it.

Nate had tried to stop him. Parker had been quiet and not asked him to kill Eliot like the last time someone had made her cry. Sophie had given that look she'd given him over and over since the first day after Eliot walked out on them and the shock had worn off and Hardison had realized this was a hitter's version of throwing a tantrum for not getting his way.

He'd gone out anyway, tracking his way through the city to Eliot's place, going up to his apartment, picking the lock and loudly banging the door open ready to give the hitter a piece of his mind.

Seeing the hitter for the first time in weeks, dressed a worn out and poorly made version of his usual clothes, sitting at a battered table, looking up from the meal he was eating alone made something inside Hardison pause half a second before he shook it off and barged in.

Only to find the carefully constructed verbal bitch slapping Eliot so deserved had disappeared.

"I hope you're happy." Hardison finally managed, trying to make his voice as growly and angry as he felt. "You made Parker cry."

Eliot put down his silverware (plastic, looked like reused take out, his mind told him. He knew Eliot was blending in and playing a role but why on earth did it have to be this one? Didn't the hitter at least have the sense to run away to somewhere nice and safe?) and pushed himself slowly to his feet.

And god did Eliot always look this tired?

When Eliot didn't respond more than just to meet his eyes steadily Hardison barreled forward. "Sophie was… nah, Sophie is a wreck. I thought Nate's drinking got bad the night you just up and left but I didn't have the night he got back from his visit here to compare it with yet. Compared to that he was flippen fantastic that night. Parker was walking round like a zombie for three. Days. Then she started searching the entire building for everything of yours you'd left behind." His voice was starting to grow lounder. "All because of what? Because we asked you to go play a role in a con instead of letting you tag along to a party? Because we didn't ask if you were alright? Are you seriously so fucked up in the head that if we don't say 'thank you you're awesome' every time you do your job you abandon us?"

"Here's a funny thing 'bout what you just said there." Eliot said his face not changing, something disturbing about him not responding with anger for once. "It wasn't just one time." He turned his back to Hardison, moving to go do something that Hardison didn't even really follow because of the punch to the metaphorical gutt he'd just been given.

He didn't want to think about the fact he couldn't remember a time when the team had given more attention to what Eliot did for them than to poke at his injuries to annoy him.

"You left because we took you for granted?" Hardison said, his voice not as angry as he wanted it to be.

Eliot stopped what he was doing, one hand on the door of the open refrigerator, deep breath in, deep breath out.

"No." The word came softly, sounding final, like any other one word answer Eliot ever gave, but then he kept going. "I fight. I cook. I keep you safe. It's what I do and seeing my family sittin' round a table together an' alive is more than I would have thought I'd ever get five years ago." He let out another breath, shoulders slumping a little further, exhaustion writing over his body a little bit more like it was taking what he had left to put this out there. "Or for those six fucking long months of trying to hold us together while waiting for the news that something happened to Nate…"

There was a hint of fear that made something in Hardison hurt, that he wanted to end even if the fear was old. "Dude, it was minimum security."

Eliot gave a bark of laughter before letting out another breath before adding. "I know… but the prisons I've been in…" He hesitated a second, the slight hitch to his words Hardison was more used to hearing when he was playing a role in a con. "In my head I knew he was in a minimum security prison and that Sterling wouldn't let him get killed before he testified… but something in here…" He tapped his chest. "well it's never quite forgotten four months in Serbia, six weeks in North Korea, three weeks in Egypt, or a prison camp in Croatia. It's my job to keep you all safe and for Six months I couldn't do my job." He shook it off, grabbed whatever he was grabbing from the fridge and shut the door with a little more force than he needed to. "I got tired."

Hardison winced mentally at the memory of a joke he'd made once about Eliot studying any visual of Nate they'd gotten while he was away and how maybe Eliot had something he needed to tell them. Eliot had been studying Nate for signs of injury, for any clue he'd received the injuries Eliot associated with prisons, trying to reassure himself without letting the others know his fears.

"So you left because you got tired?" Hardison asked, trying to process, trying to deal with what the hitter had just told him.

Eliot shook his head again.

"Then what?" Hardison asked, his voice getting sharp again, anger was easier, it loosened the tense knot in his gutt enough that he could breath. "Why now? Why not… I don't know. Any time before?"

Eliot put down whatever he'd been holding and turned, blue eyes finally meeting Hardison's, just a hint of anger in his voice finally matching Hardison's. "Because no one was there to stop me."

"Newsflash Eliot. We can't read your mind."

"Never seemed to be a problem before. This aint the first time I thought 'bout running. Just the first time I got out the door." Eliot said, his lips settling into an expression that might have been called a smirk if it had slightly less disdain.

Something in the back of Hardison's mind added inappropriate facial expressions to the list of problems he had right now.

"Oh really now." Hardison said, mockingly impressed. "That supposed to make me feel sorry for you? That's what this whole thing is about isn't it? The melodramatic note, the crappy hide out, looking oh so tired and oh so broken up. You're just pissed off that there's an odd number on the team and want to make sure we're all paying attention to the odd man out when you don't feel like dating your way through the female population of Boston." As he went his voice got sharper and louder, everything he'd been feeling since finding the note snowballing and running out his mouth into words that crossed a line he'd only realize he never should have touched. "Then again we were warned about this weren't we. You promise to be there then you fucking leave me. That's what you do isn't it."

Fire, the kind that warned Eliot was about to go into kill mode, flared across the hitter's face but before Hardison could even get through a mental oh shit and realized he'd gone past fighting fair, the anger turned bitter and cooled to the slow burning at the Hitter's core. "You're right about one thing I guess." He said turning away, the anger still in his voice but different now, and fading. "I'm doing what I do. Surviving. Least this time I learned to leave before I get left."

Hardison felt the words hit him like a computer crash, blue screen of death flashing through his mind when the words first processed, when the resignation behind the words hit him.

Eliot had been tired, had given them all he had, and been worn too thin and been thinking about running and then the party happened and Eliot had seen the writing on the wall and just…

Left.

Because he'd thought they were going to leave him.

For a long long moment neither spoke, or moved, the only sounds were the noise pollution leaking in from the window, Hardison's breath loud in his ears, and his own mind replaying all the times in the past few weeks he'd mentally ranted about Eliot and his emotional issues and obvious childhood traumas and god…

What must have fucking happened to Eliot to make him think they were all going to just move on without him with no warning other than a dance and them being as wrapped up in their own worlds as usual?

They were all so used to dealing with eachother's emotional baggage how had they missed this?

"You said me." Eliot muttered, breaking through the silence and Hardison's train of thought.

"What?"

"When you were shouting." Eliot said. "You said 'you fucking leave me'" He turned around and crossed the distance between them. He looked up, meeting Hardison's eyes with understanding, like the last few pieces had fallen into place in Eliot's mind and he'd seen the big picture and *knew* something Hardison wasn't even sure there was to know. "Go home." He said, with the almost gentleness he normally reserved for kids or a scared and hurting Parker.

Hardison, for once unable to think of something to say, nodded, his eyes finding the floor, and he turned to leave.

He was at the door when he heard it, and it was so soft and came as he closed the squeaky door behind him, and he wasn't really sure it was more than just his mind but…

At the same time he knew that as the door shut behind him Eliot had said. "Be careful out there, little brother."

oOo

It had been five days since Hardison's visit and Eliot hadn't even caught a glimpse of anyone from the team.

The old team, he reminded himself.

He wasn't as glad as he wanted to be.

It was more peaceful without them dropping by, or the threat of them dropping by. He could rest and continue to set them in the past and focus on the task at hand. Maybe in a little while, after he finished dealing with the landlord and his many many misdealings here he'd go visit his sister. Seeing her kids always helped a little.

No. That would remind him of family and he needed a little more of a buffer than one job before he'd be ready for that. He was practicing the fine art of being alone again.

There was always that youth center that needed looking into. It had been too small of a job for the team when they had so many high stake jobs lined up but he should be able to see it through by himself. Knock Beuford off the list of bad people in the world.

If the reports he'd heard were true maybe it would be more of a bumping off. There were advantages to not being on a team.

He just had to focus on that. He'd be fine.

In a little while he'd be fine. Like always. Just keep moving forward.

Don't look back.

He repeated what had been his mantra over a decade ago as he fished his keys out of his pocket and let himself back into his apartment building before forcing his thoughts to go back to the current con.

His well dressed and obviously non-local team mates showing up repeatedly hadn't really helped his cover but he'd been able to work around it, keeping the trust of the other tenants while keeping his cover as a war-vet with PTSD living on disability viable. The slumlord had already made the moves Eliot had predicted and it wouldn't be too long until Eliot could move this game into checkmate and get out of this hell hole, the deed of this stretch of buildings in the hands of the Luna family that had lost their youngest daughter last winter, and a couple key officials looking into the ongoing corruption.

It wasn't as elegant as something Nate would put together and Eliot was still trying to work out some of the kinks in the plan before moving into the main stages, but his intel was good and he was getting used to working alone again and he was ready to make some mistakes since he was shifting his focus a little.

He wouldn't move into the next stage until he was certain that if things went as badly as possible the collateral damage would be still be low.

The point was still to make sure things didn't go badly.

"Abe!" Maria Luna called out to him, jogging down the hallway to meet him with a smile on her face like he didn't think he'd seen before but oddly familiar all the same. "It's so… I can't…" She gave up her attempt at broken english and hugged him, slipping into fast paced Spanish that seemed to circle around "thank you" a lot more than anything he'd done for her thus far deserved.

"Maria, Darlin', slow down." He tried to disentangle himself from the near hysterically happy woman, glad at least her husband wasn't around even if he was a rather understanding fellow and it was only a hug.

"Thank you." She said looking up to meet his eyes. "You said you would do something about him, I didn't belive you but…" She took a step back, pulling a manila envelope out of the inside of her jacket and showing it to him. "It is the deed to this building, it belongs to my family now. The slumlord, he is taken down… news today is all about his crimes. I know you have no TV." She said the last with a teasing smile. "You kept your promise. Thank you."

"I didn't do anything." He said, confused.

A jokingly secretive smile crossed her face. "You did nothing. Right." She patted his face. "Go. Keep doing nothing. Your family is waiting for you in your apartment."

"My… family?"

She nodded and understanding dawned on Eliot. He turned, racing up the stairs, ready to… he didn't even know what.

He let himself into his apartment, not expecting to find Nate and Parker together in his kitchen and Sophie set five places at the circular card table they'd set up, tut tuting to herself over his dishware, while Hardison moved chairs and stools from where they were scattered throughout the apartment.

Alright, an invasion of his space was par for course, but this he didn't know what to make of.

"What did you do?" He asked finally, making his presence known, not like they hadn't all known the moment he stepped into the apartment.

The silence would likely have lasted much longer if Parker hadn't finished cutting the tomato she'd been working on and blurted out. "The broken can opener is Nate's fault." Like she had no idea what he was talking about.

Though this being Parker she probably did break his can opener and passing the blame had taken priority in her mind.

"Not what I meant." He growled. "The Luna's, the slumlord. What did you do?"

"Well, it's hard to leave a job unfinished." Sophie explained, examining a plate in the light like there was nothing at all unusual about the situation other than the possibility of cracked dishware.

"So we figured we'd help move your plans along." Hardison finished, depositing one last chair at the table before sitting down himself.

"This job wasn't what was keeping me here" Eliot growled, demand they get the hell out of his apartment on the tip of his tounge but refusing to leave his mouth.

"We aren't here to tell you to come back" Parker stated, bringing a couple big plates to the table before taking her seat while Sophie settled next to her.

Nate turned away from the stove bringing one last steaming dish, setting it down and looking up to meet Eliot's eyes.

"We came here to ask you to come home."