Title: Decisions that I Make
Rating: T
Summary: Eliot is the silent enigma, always suspicious and secretive. But when he is injured by a mysterious attacker the group of thieves learns more about the enigmatic man.
Author Note: The tenth chapter has arrived! (throws confetti) I'm always excited when I get to the tenth chapter because I can't scrap this fic now, too much work has gone into it and too many people seem to enjoy it. So, needless to say this story is staying and will be completed, not to soon though, no worries. I see this fic going on for at least 15 chapters. Who knows what will happen in the future, at the moment I don't even know and I'm writing the bloody thing! So, this is where I thank all the people who have reviewed this story and stuck with it from the beginning!
The Leverage fic section is GROWING!! Another reason to celebrate; now all we have to hope for is that this kick butt series doesn't get cancelled because that would really, really suck. I hope the boys who produced it get another contract for another season and get a box set out soon, because it's a popular show.
Alright, I'm done. Onto the fic!
Chapter 10: Rain
"MOM! MOM! Come watch the rain storm!" I shouted, running through the house from the front porch. I can hear her moving around upstairs and quickly climb them, sliding around the corner into my parent's bedroom bare feet barely gripping the polished floor. I stop in the doorway, breathing heavily and watch as my mother erratically piles her belongings into a case. Her hands are shaking ruthlessly as she picks up her jewelry box and dumps it into the suitcase along with all her clothes. I step further into the room, confusion setting in
"Mom? What are you doing?" I ask softly and when she doesn't turn I think she hasn't heard me. Stepping closer I grab into the hem of her shirt but back away quickly as a quick hand comes down, smacking me upside the head. Jolting back a few steps I stare up at her, not understanding the reason behind the swat. Mom never hit Sam or I, not unless we'd done something really, really wrong.
I don't understand, what did I do that would make her swat at me?
"Mom?" I ask, unsure and willing the tears threatening to fall to stay where they are. My mother's Pawnee heritage giving her a youthful look, but the beauty of her face is erased as the narrow eyebrows are drawn together and the thin lipped mouth is pulled back in a snarl.
"Get away from me!" She snaps and comes at me once more, her hand raised as if to strike me. I back away from the motion, wincing away from it.
"So much like your father, stupid, stupid boy." She snaps and the hands connect with my face and head. I fall to my knees and curl up, trying to get away from her blows as they become more painful. I'm crying now, listening as her curses and hateful words assault me.
"Charisma what are you doing!" My father's voice rages and I open my eyes, still protectively huddled to find my father's mud soaked boots leaving mud tracks on the carpet. I look up to see my father holding onto my mother's struggling form. I slowly get to my feet, tears still leaking from my eyes and make for the door, but I'm frozen as the words she's muttering hit me
"Worthless bastard! Should have been destroyed at birth! Get off ME!" she kicks out at my father, who only holds onto her. His light colored hat has been knocked off and lays on the floor beside a silver bracelet, the silver a stark contrast against the dark rug.
"Eliot, go downstairs and find Sam." I hesitate at my father's words but jump at the heartsick words
"Now Eliot. It'll be alright." He soothes and I look at my hysterically sobbing mother, still wondering exactly what I did wrong and obey, wiping at my eyes before heading down the stairs. Sam's on the front porch watching the approaching lightning storm, rocking lightly in the white chairs. I push my way out and let the door slam behind me, ignoring the annoyed look from my sister.
"What's wrong with you?" she asks but I shake my head
"Nothing." Keeping my eyes focused on the fields as the dark, angry clouds billow over them. The wind blows over the stalks, making them sway soothingly in the wind as the scent of damp earth and electricity reach my senses. I breath deeply, earning a giggle from Sam
"Your such an idiot Eliot, you can't smell a storm." She giggles into her school book. I glare at her before sitting down on the steps of our porch. Banging from the house has me turning around and I spot Mom coming through the doorway, a dufflebag and suitcase held firmly in her hands. She plows through the door, making the screen scream loudly as it whacks the siding. I quickly move out of the way, scrambling off the steps and into the small flower bed beside it to avoid the woman, unsure of her reaction.
"Mom? Where ya going?" Sam asks, standing and putting her school book back on the chair. I step up onto the porch beside her, the fat rain drops already starting. Mom doesn't say a word, only throws her bags into the rusted old station wagon and starting the engine.
"MOM!?" we both cry as I jump off the porch and race to keep up with the car, wanting to know, wanting to see her. Why is she leaving! My mind is screaming at me as I pump my legs faster, screaming out for her to stop and saying I'm sorry. Tears mingle with the icy rain drops of a summer rain as I am forced to give up my chase.
"Eliot! Get back here!" Dad shouts from the porch but I sit myself down on the muddy road, my pants becoming soaked through as the rain continues to pour down. I sob, not understanding, warm, salty tears mixed with those falling from the sky.
"C'mon boy." My father picks me up and slings me over his shoulder, uncaring if my soaked body is making his shirt all muddy and wet. Setting me back on the porch he kneels down, pulling Sam in front of him
"Dad, where's Mom? Where'd she go?" Sam asks, her voice thick with tears. I stare down at the boards of the porch, watching the water drip from my nose and hair.
"It's 'cause of me…that's why she left." I sniff, rubbing at my eyes. My father makes a face before pulling me into a hug, dragging my sister with me
"No, no Eliot. It's not because of you. Your mom is sick right now, that's all. She'll come back when she's better." Sam and I sob into the wet shirt, clinging to it as the rain continues to hammer down on our house.
My mom never came back and I never saw her after that day.
I wake up, my body jolting out of the memory of my mom's departure from my life. Breathing heavily I press a hand against my ribs as I try to get my heart to slow down. I haven't dreamed of that day in so long, but the memory is still fresh, still painful. The clock beside my bedside reads five-thirty in glowing green letters. Groaning softly I allow myself to fall back onto the pillows. Raising my left arm I sigh, playing with the old bracelet, the only thing I have left from my mother. Spinning it around I fiddle with the clasp, the Fleur-de-lis is tarnished in places. One of the pieces is worn from being scraped along tables. Dropping my arm back down onto the bed I listen intently for any sounds from the main area. Gingerly I get out of bed and move over to the railing, peering over cautiously I can't help but snort at the scene below me. Parker is sprawled out on her back on top of her sleeping bag, her lanky limbs hanging off the cot's sides. Peaceful and innocent in sleep I think it's the only time she's ever still. Hardison is curled on his side under the military issued sleeping bag I loaned him, soft snores coming from him every time he inhales. Nate is on the couch, having claimed it the first night he stayed here, I often wonder what makes his sleep so restless but dismiss it as the same reason my own sleep is disturbed. Sophie is covered with blankets and sleeping soundly in the reclining chair, her hair tussled. Smiling to myself I step back from the railing and drag on a pair of sweat pants before settling down in the chair beside the bookshelf. My personal reading collection takes up one shelf of the cherry oak case, the rest of the shelves are small reminders of places I have been, a few photographs. I sit in the silence and allow myself to be pulled back asleep, curled up in the chair.
(Nate)
"Hardison you clogged the toilet!" Parker shouts as she bangs the bathroom door open, face twisted in anger. The hacker looks up from his place beside me and frowns
"No I didn't, I didn't even do that." He clarifies making Sophie groan and look away, the woman always having been a bit sensitive to bodily functions. Parker sighs and crosses her arms and cocks a hip
"Well, something's wrong with it." She gripes and huffs, turning sharply and heading for the steps to the loft. I give chase, not wanting her to disturb Eliot.
"Pakrer!" I whisper harshly as I approach the stairs in time to see the lithe blond skirting around the corner. A low whistle echoes from her and cautiously I head up, trying to stay silent. Reaching the top I m shocked to find Eliot's up and pulling a shirt over his bruised torso. I wince at the dark bruising and smile when his eyes find me.
"And Hardison went in before me, and he's the one who clogged your toilet." Parker's spewing quickly and judging by the blurry and befuddled look Eliot's trying to understand the quick words. With a wordless nod he stumbles past me and down the steps, Parker close at his heels. I gaze around the loft, the bed unmade and wrinkled.
"At least he slept." I mumble to myself before following the two back down. Eliot's standing in front of the bathroom, rubbing a hand through his short cropped hair before sighing.
"No, it does this occasionally. The guy in the building across from me and I share the same central city line. I think he has a girlfriend who flushes stuff down she's not supposed too." He remarks, yawning and heading for a closet. I peer into the bathroom and find that the water spilling forth from the porcelain bowl is being held back from the hardwood floors by several towels. Eliot returns with his pants rolled up and a pair of water boots on, a mop and bucket held in his hand.
"I deal with this at least once every two months, so don't worry about it. I'll have to go over and chat with my neighbor later today though." Without ceremony Eliot steps into the flooded room, his rubber boots sloshing through the water. Parker leans against the doorframe and I head back to my coffee. Hardison the first night he stayed here declared he would be purchasing a coffee maker because the hacker can not get going without his caffeine shot in the morning.
"So, what's the plan for today?" Hardison asks, his fingers dancing over the lap top's keys.
"Well… uh. I was thinking that today maybe would be a down day, I'd take a ride over to Mariner Ave with Eliot later on, scope out the place and see what's what. Other than that I'm not going to be launching anything new today. I think we all need a break." Sophie and Hardison both agree. I look up to where Parker is hovering in the bathroom doorway and frown as the young woman steps into the small room. Pushing it aside I stand and take my coffee and head back to the couch, flipping on the TV and surfing, mind already focused on the upcoming job.
++!!++
"So, what do you want to take?" Eliot asks as the lift falls into home at the garage. Pushing back the safety gate Eliot steps out and stands in the middle of his collection. Left side of the garage is filled with motorcycles, the other with a wide variety of trucks. I gaze at one of the metallic midnight blue bikes in the center and step closer. No emblems adorn the tank and I puzzle over the lines for a moment before drawing Eliot's attention.
"Harley?" I ask and at Eliot's look I feel incredibly stupid.
"No, it's a Kawasaki Vulcan 1600, custom pipes. I pry all the emblems off, makes people guess." He says, a smirk coming to his face. I nod and look up and down the row
"Ya know, I always figured you for a crotch rocket type." Eliot's hand hovers over a handlebar.
"I use to ride them when I was younger. Take one too many spills going over eighty and you decide to keep it safe. But I do have one, incase I need the speed to get away." He hints and walks over to a covered bike. Pulling the covering off I stare at the Kawasaki Ninja, beaten to hell the bike has massive road burn down one side and I glance up at the man. Eliot rubs a hand over the back of his neck and gives a soft laugh
"Yeah, I had a little accident." He remarks but straddles the bike none the less.
"I had one of the ones they removed from the market because too many idiots were buying them and killing themselves, but I got a good deal when I bought this one." He says, not unlike any other man in a garage. Eliot looks at home on a motorcycle of any kind really, he has that quality to him where he would appreciate the freedom it provides.
"Well, I'm too old to be riding around on one of those. I prefer my car." I smile and Eliot gives a chuckle, standing and swinging his leg over the back. Recovering the Black and gunmetal grey bike and stares down his line of bikes.
"Next to horses, motorcycles are the next step to freedom." He says softly and I smile to myself, knowing the man is a free spirit above all else. The mood seems to have developed into a melancholy one so I turn it away, gesturing to the collection of trucks.
"How about we take that one." I point to the massive vehicle and Eliot gets a truly sardonic smirk.
"That truck is my baby." He grabs a set of keys out of a cabinet as I step close to appreciate the truck.
"1986 Chevrolet 4x4 with a six inch lift. Fully restored in my off time, correct to manufactures specs. Got Super Swampers for the tires. This truck will go through everything." Eliot rattles off like I know what he's talking about. I picked this one because it was the biggest out of them all. Eliot's already up in the cab and firing up the throaty engine.
"Do you need a milk crate?" Eliot says mockingly and I frown at him, hauling myself up into the beast. With a laugh Eliot eases the truck out of the garage and we head off to scope out the bar sites and try to figure out how to work this so no one get's hurt.
Author Note: I am a huge Motorcycle and Truck fanatic. My parents rode a 1997 Kawasaki Vulcan 1500 but sadly it had to be junked due to a very bad accident in which both my parents were badly injured a few months ago. Anyway I was watching LockDown on TV the other night and got a really, really good idea for another story, so don't be surprised if you see another pop up soon.
I don't like this chapter, it served the purpose of showing a unity between the characters but that's all really. Next one we'll be getting down and dirty with the scam. Please review and I'll update again soon!