A Broken Man.

Summary. . . . . . . . . How do you break a man, when pain is an everyday occurrence and can be controlled? Eliot and the team are about to find out, when an easy con turns out to be anything but.

Disclaimer. . . . . . . . Not mine, no money is being made; I'm just testing the waters of a new fandom.

A.N. . . . . . . . . . . As always thanks to everyone who had taken time out to read, review, or add to their favs, this story so far, I'm glad you're enjoying the ride. Without further ado, here's chapter 7, I hope it clears up some of the confusion. Peanut x


A bitterly cold wind blew in from the ocean, bringing with it the first heavy flakes of the season that coated the city beneath his window in a blanket of pristine white. Thick clouds smothered all signs of the newly rising sun, muting its normally brilliant rays and casting instead a sickly grey green glow that suited his mood perfectly. He sat in his office chair, his legs raised, his feet propped upon his desk, his head slouched back, the fingers of his left hand idly toying with the object that had been sewn into his Hitter's back. A whiskey glass sat half empty within reach, the bottle its contents had come from lying dry and decanted beside it. He reached out with the digits of his right hand, grasped the glass and downed the remaining liquid in one, relishing the slow burn as it eased down his throat, and the warmth that spread in his otherwise chilled body.

A movement in the outer office, brought his attention from where it had been languishing, back to the present and the nightmare he now found himself in. He waited to see if more movement followed that would signal that one of the team had followed him here, but heard nothing but the sound of the wind rattling the windows. He was glad, he needed time to think, needed time to decide if keeping everything he now knew a secret was the right thing to do, or if it would one day come back to haunt him. He'd left Hardison tending to Eliot, told Sophie and Parker that he needed some air, that he wouldn't be long; but instead he'd retreated to their offices, where he had booted up the computers, inserted the hidden thumb drive, and watched Eliot's missing days play in glorious Technicolor before him; now he didn't know what to do.

"You can't hide this from us Nate, he's our friend too, we deserve to know what happened and why. Don't shut us out man." Hardison spoke as he entered the room.

"How long have you been there?" Nate replied.

"Sophie told me to follow you, she's worried man. Told me to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. I saw most of what was on the drive, and as nasty as it is, we all deserve to be given the option to watch it."

"I know." Nate answered, his shoulders slipping in defeat. "I know, but it's bad and I wasn't sure how you would handle it."

"What, so you decided to carry the weight of this alone? This is Eliot man, he's busted up and broken inside, and we're the ones that are gonna have to fix him, but you gotta trust us, and we've gotta know what happened, we gotta know the truth."

"Okay, okay, we'll head back, and I'll give the others the choice."


In the end giving them the choice was not an option, both Sophie and Parker agreeing with Hardison that they needed to see what had been done. Not wanting to watch the horror movie again, Nate retreated to where Eliot was resting, leaving the others to relive Eliot's torture.

They choose to sit on the couch to watch, all three of them unconsciously positioning themselves side by side, instead of spreading out like they would normally do, needing the closeness to bring them the comfort they knew they would need once they started watching. Hardison pressed some buttons on his tablet and their chilling feature film began, videos of Eliot naked and captured and suffering played before them, overlaid with a softly accented voice.

Eliot Spencer,

It has been too long my friend. Too long since our last encounter, too long since I swore you would pay for the atrocities you inflicted upon my country, for the atrocities you inflicted upon my family. You hid yourself well my friend, hiding deep underground like the vermin you are. Hid yourself so well in fact that I almost gave up hope of ever finding you again, but then you made a mistake, you surfaced for whatever reason, and your name began to float around again.

I could have had you killed numerous times this year my friend, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted you to suffer. Killing you would have been an easy way out for you, and an easy way out, in my eyes, in my heart, is something you do not deserve. So I watched, and I waited. Watched your little band of modern day Robin Hoods and waited for the right opportunity to strike, and plotted exactly how I would reap my revenge.

You see I wanted to break you Eliot, I wanted to dig deep into your soul and tear you apart from the inside out, I wanted the tough man to cower and whimper before me, I wanted to see you beg and plead; but I didn't want to kill you, I wanted to return you afterwards demoralized and destroyed, defective and defeated, damaged beyond repair, suffering for the rest of your life.

I wanted to send you back to those who will try and fix you, I wanted to send you back to those who will want you to fight back; I want to watch from afar to see if they succeed. I want to wait in the shadows in case they do, I want to watch you walk down the street, edgy and unnerved, wary and waiting for me to strike back again, I want you to always be watching over your shoulder, I want my face to be the one that haunts your dreams at night, I want my face to be the one you glimpse in the crowd. You see my friend, even if your friends succeed, I will always be in the back of your mind, and you will always be wondering when I will strike again.

This is not the end Eliot, this is just the beginning.

Sophie was crying, Parker had disappeared, and Hardison was struck dumb, by the time the recording had finished. The words had been haunting enough, that someone knew that they were out there and that they would try to bring Eliot back, and would be watching was bad enough; but the images were worse, much worse. The horrors that had been inflicted upon the Hitter, the psychological damage that been delivered, were much more damaging than any beating could ever be. To see their friend, their protector, bound and naked and scared and so vulnerable, was soul destroying. To see him give up at one point, and be revived, was heartbreaking. To remember him cowering and begging and not even realizing he was safe and back among friends, was something Sophie knew she would never forget.

"So what do we do?" She eventually asked, wiping at her damp eyes as she spoke.

"We do what we always do." A voice answered from behind, as Nate stepped back into the room. "We fight for those who can't fight for themselves, and at this moment in time that's Eliot. We bring him back, and we find and destroy whoever did this."


A.N. . . . . . . . . . . . Well I hope that you enjoyed it, will be back as soon as possible with chapter 8. Peanut x