Chapter Ten~ Late Nights
Working his jacket and slightly muddy boots off, Eliot tried to figure out where to sit down. For a woman who lived alone with a small child and didn't do very much entertaining, she had a lot of furniture. There were two couches with two armchairs and a rocking chair strategically placed around the living room, all facing the TV screen over the fireplace. Considering that he didn't want to get her furniture wet, he decided to just wait until she came back. When she did, towel in hand, Tammy had only put a large t-shirt over her tank top. This did nothing to squander the thoughts that were floating around in his brain, and he felt horrible for it. So much shit had happened to this poor woman and he couldn't even stop himself from imagining what it would be like to see what was hiding under the material.
Tamara had gestured to the couch beside him, her silent way of telling him to sit down. To be completely honest, the way he was hovering made her nervous. She handed him the towel, being extra careful not to touch his hand when she did. Despite the front she had put up (one that no one seemed to realize was there), she still shied away from any man besides her son. Not that she had had much physical contact with men since the incident in the hospital. Tammy had made it a prerogative not to be around many people during the time of the trial. As such, she had begun to sink down into that deep dark hole that was depression, considering that she had always been a very outgoing, social person. Vaguely, as she stirred the hot milk and cocoa mix into mugs, she wondered why it was Eliot that her son thought to call, instead of just cuddling up to her like he normally did on the nights where he wanted to sleep in her bed. Thunder boomed, lightning lit up the window over the sink, making her jump. That might be why...
"You alright?" Eliot's voice made her jerk, causing one of mugs to slosh the liquid all over her hand.
"Ow, shit." Tammy grabbed a paper towel to clean up the chocolate on the floor, balling up her burnt fist. Dammit, get a hold of yourself. Freakin' scaredy cat. Sock-clad feet came into her line of sight, and the sound of another paper towel being ripped off preceded the hand that covered hers when Eliot knelt beside her.
"Sorry. I got this." Without a word, or even without looking at him, she pulled her hand out from under his, standing to clean off the counter as well. "Trashcan?" He asked. She simply pointed next at the end of the counter, where the can sat tucked away. When all the mess was cleaned up and the mug refilled, they went to sit in the living room. Him on the couch, and she in the armchair, far enough away that he couldn't touch her without having to get up. Tammy had snatched up the remote and clicked it, bringing up some children's cartoon. Probably a channel that Murphy had been watching before bed. Flipping through the channels, she eventually settled on some mindless reality show, and turned the volume down so they wouldn't wake the child up again.
Both of them sat in silence. The woman sat with her legs drawn up, eyes glued to the TV, if for no other reason than to avoid her guest's gaze. And gaze he did. Eliot noticed everything, they way she had pulled away, how she barely spoke to him, and even now, how she gently rocked back and forth on her perch. The woman before him was broken, it was written in every inch of her face and in every movement that she made. Even the way she tapped her fingers on the cup she held told him a story.
"Hey," he spoke up, attempting to get her attention.
"Hmm?" Tamara didn't even look at him, just barely moved her head in his direction.
"What happened? Murphy's never called me before?"
"I know, I'm sorry. He shouldn't have woken you up."
"I only need about ninety minutes of sleep a day, so he didn't really wake me up. Tamara?" This time she did look at him, if only for a moment before averting her eyes again. "Are you ok?"
She seemed to start rocking faster, her fingers splayed over the cup she held. "I guess you might not remember this...the night of the gala-"
"I remember it."
"It was raining...I remember the rain hitting the window of the car, the roof of the apartment building when he..." She trailed off, gulping. "There was a flash of lightning the first time he punched me. Cliché, right?" Tammy gave a wry laugh. "But that's what I remember. It hasn't rained at night since then...at least, not that I remember."
"So...it was worse tonight because of the storm?"
One of her shoulders raised in a shrug, "I guess. I didn't mean to scare you guys. And I certainly didn't want to bother you in the middle of the night."
"Hey, I told you. Whatever you need, me and the team are gonna be there to make sure you're taken care of. I told Murphy to call me if something happened, and that's what he did. He's a smart kid, he knew that whatever was happening to you, he couldn't handle." Tammy put a hand over her eyes.
"Oh, god, Eliot. What if I had hurt him? What if he had tried to climb in bed and I accidentally hit him, or-or grabbed him, or turned over on him..." Her hand came down her mouth to stifle a sob.
Eliot put his mug down, standing from his seat. "Hey, hey. It's ok." He didn't miss the way she sat back when he knelt in front of her chair. "Your little boy is fine. He's a smart kid, and he did the right thing, calling me to help y'all. Don't do that to yourself. You didn't hurt him, he's safe, asleep, dreaming of candy and teddy bears, or whatever kind of weird shit kids dream about." His last comment pulled a small giggle out of her, which she tried to hide. "Ah, there it is. See? You're gonna be alright. You're one of the strongest women I've ever met, and you will get through this giant pile of crap. I'm not gonna tell you to do it for your son, because that's not why you need to do it. You need to make sure you're ok for yourself. Because if you just do it for your boy, then you're not really ok." Ignoring the tension in her arms, he took both her hands in his. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I don't care if I'm halfway across the planet, ok. If you need me for any reason, you pick up that phone and you call me. Same with any of the team. If you just need someone to come over and sit, not even talk, just sit and not be alone, you call one of us. Even Parker, she's been asking about you."
"I can't ask you to put your lives and jobs on hold just to check up on me."
"And you're not. We are offering to put what we do on the back burner if you need us to. Let me tell you something, I think you are the first client to ever end up being friends with every single one of the team. Most people don't have any contact with us after we fix their problems."
"So, why are you bothering with me?"
"Because, Tamara, you are important to all of us." His 100 watt smile stretched all the way to his eyes, bringing out the flecks of gold that spotted them here and there. "Now, hold still." Letting go with one of his hands, he snagged a tissue from the end table beside them, raising it to her face and gently scrubbing her cheeks free of the tears that had fallen. Not used to being treated like a child, Tammy started laughing, trying to push his hand away. "There, that's better."
Sitting there, in that moment, Tammy felt the wall she had built start to chip away. It would seem that Eliot had, metaphorically, taken a sledge hammer to her wall. He continued to sit there, holding her hand, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. It was oddly soothing, between the catch of Eliot's rough skin on hers, and the way he had caught her in his gaze, keep her from looking away. Having long ago given up on conventional religion, Tamara was suddenly hit with the feeling that whatever higher power there was had sent her the equivalent of an angel. Yeah, that sounded right. Her strong, sweet, yet kind of scary guardian angel, who had saved her that day, then again after that. And now, here he was, after midnight in the middle of a rainstorm. All because her son had scared him into thinking she was in danger.
Likewise, Eliot could physically feel her body relax under his ministrations. All the hell she had been through, Tamara deserved an award for how well she had hidden it in the courts so far. Hardison had made sure to bug the courtroom where Randall's crimes would, one by one, come to light. Through the cameras they had planted, they watched the woman sit stone faced and silent throughout the proceedings, never looking at the man who had hurt her, looking almost as if she wasn't even in the room mentally. He knew what fear could do to a person. Especially someone as sweet and soft as the woman that held onto his hand like a lifeline. What he didn't know, was that to her, he was her lifeline. Right now, he was the only thing keeping her from unraveling and slipping even farther into her pit of despair.
In the heat of the moment, Tamara raised his hand to her lips and pressed them against his tanned knuckles. Eyes closed, a single tear tracked its way down to her chin, where it ran into the side of his hand and ran down his wrist. Neither said a word as she expressed her thanks without words. Despite the thoughts that had been running through his brain earlier, Eliot knew that this was not a romantic gesture, but one of a woman who was grateful just to be alive. When her eyes finally opened, he was surprised that the color he was so used to seeing by this time, that blend of warm honey and birch leaves, was gone. In it's place was the startling shade of dark green surrounding her large, dilated pupils. Of course, simple biology caused his own body to react as well. Almost immediately after opening her eyes, Tammy watched, intrigued at the sight of his clear blue and gold eyes darken into a stormy amber-flecked grey. She could feel his grip almost impersepherably tighten on her fingers, felt her heart skip a beat at the change in his whole demeanor. He moved ever so slightly closer. She wanted to move away, but for some reason, she was rooted in her seat, held by no more than the look in Eliot's eyes. It scared her.
Because it was the same look she saw in Joshua Randall's eyes when he had-
Her limbs finally got their mobility back. Tamara snatched her hands away and vaulted herself over the arm of her chair. Hitting the floor in a pile of tangled appendages, she scrambled into the corner of the room as fast as she could, leaving a very confused Eliot on his ass from where she had pushed him back. Shaking off the fog that had descended on his brain, he watched as Tammy curled in on herself and started rocking back and forth again. He could hear her muttering, indecipherable until he got closer, which just made her whimper and make herself smaller.
"No, no, no, no. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Please, I'm sorry." Her voice was so quiet, he knew she wasn't talking to him.
"Tammy? Sweetheart, you're alright. He can't get you anymore. I'm right here." At the sound of his voice, her rocking eased a bit. Good, he thought, She's still responding. "How 'bout we get you to bed, darlin'?" He eased closer, crouched and with his hands out so she wouldn't think he was trying to hurt her. Her eyes darted to him at the movement, stopping him. "Can I touch you?" He didn't mean it in a romantic way, and luckily, she knew that, because she nodded jerkily. Slowly, he managed to put his arms around her, pulling her into the safest embrace she had felt since she was a child. "Shh, shh. It's ok." She could feel him press his lips into her hair, an attempt to show her that he was still there for her. "Let's get you into bed. You still have court tomorrow."
It didn't take long for him to get the mentally and physically exhausted woman to sleep. He just sat beside her and held her hand until she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Once she was out, he pulled on his boots long enough to grab his go-bag from his truck and come back inside. Eliot made use of the hall bathroom, changing into his pajama pants and a tank top, before rooting through the closet to get an extra pillow and blanket. Knowing full well that she might have another nightmare, he had decided to suck it up and hang out on the couch, having left her door open just a crack so he could hear her if something happened. She was in no shape to be alone, especially not with a small child.
Poor girl.