Eliot turned the key in that lock and pushed the door open. His attention immediately lit on the familiar brown leather guitar case right by the couch. He stepped inside; he had never been to her third-floor apartment overlooking the downtown area before now. It was in one of the many old brick buildings lining the street, which surprised him as he knew how much of a country girl Catherine was growing up. Tommy's mom could never keep her in the house or shoes on her feet.
He looked around the apartment, missing little. It wasn't large, just a small kitchenette, living room, a bathroom off to the side and he could see a bedroom.
He turned to find Nate standing a step or two behind him. "I am going to get Cat some clothes," he said with a nod, glad the older man came with him. Eliot wouldn't readily admit this, but if this was a few years ago, he would have already be hunting the sunsabitches responsible for this mess.
He crossed the hardwood floor to her room, grabbing a bag from the closet before getting some clothes.
Eliot paused, a faint smile slipping onto his lips, he shook his head. He grabbed the picture off the dresser, a happy family stared back at him from the frame. A five year old Catherine with her mom, dad and Tommy and surprisingly was a young him staring up at him.
He forgot about the day they took that picture. It was the week before he and Tommy left. It all felt like so long ago.
Joe and Jessica wanted a picture of what they deemed their family. He sighed, the happy family before it all fell apart.
He tucked the picture in the bag and opened one of her drawers. He pulled some clothes out, somehow not surprised he found his high school jersey in there with her clothes. He put it in the bag along with other things she would need. Eliot turned, giving the room one last cursory sweep when his gaze snapped back to the bed. A raggedy old brown teddy bear sat there, hair matted, one eye missing.
The memory of high pitched squeals and bouncing blond curls and warm sun on his skin filled his head.
"She's gonna be all grown up by the time I'm home again," Tommy said, watching as Cat ran through the sprinkler.
The Donnellys were having a barbecue.
"Not all grown up," Eliot assured his friend. Though honestly, the idea of how much they'd miss bothered him also.
"Hey, spaz," Tommy said as she went running past them again, arms flailing. She completely ignored her brother. She had very matter-of-factly informed Eliot earlier that she had to run through the sprinkler at the exact right time, or she got water up her nose. That had naturally taken place as she tried to get him to play in the water with her. Spaz was the exact appropriate term.
She went screeching through the water again. Tommy caught her this time. Five-year-old Cat was less than impressed.
"If you don't be nice, I won't give you your present."
Cat stopped squirming, her big blue eyes earnest in their eagerness, Tommy handed her a bag. Eliot didn't think he ever saw her so happy unless there was funnel cake involved.
The memory faded, and Eliot grabbed the bear from the bed, tucking it in the bag as well. He was surprised the poor thing had made it through Catherine's childhood. Within moments of getting it, she was running through the sprinklers with it. Then later that evening, she lectured her new friend on why you couldn't sit down at the dinner table inside if you were wet, so he probably shouldn't do that again.
Eliot smiled, before letting go of the bittersweet memory like he had so many times before. He filed it away in the do not look portion of his mind. Some days he'd still give almost anything to have had Tommy be the one that made it home.
He loved Cat and had done the best he could, even after her parent's deaths, but sometimes he didn't feel like it was enough. Keeping her safe meant her being alone. She wasn't completely alone; she had had Amy and Shelly, but he knew he had owed her more. He owed Tommy and her parents more as well.
Eliot Stepped back to find Nate standing pretty much where he left him. "I got the clothes."
"Are you going to tell me why she doesn't show up in any of your files?" He asked looking around the apartment there wasn't much there. A small tv, small couch and desk. He had done a lot of investigating about Eliot, but nothing had even come up about her.
"I made sure no one that would hurt her because of me knew about her," he stated flatly. He walked over to the couch and grabbed the guitar case, frowning; it should be heavier than that. He put the bag down on the floor and flipped open the case. "Son of a bitch." He growled.
Curious, Nate moved closer. "What is it …" he looked down at the empty case. "Maybe she left it at the record company when she last worked there?" Though from the look on Eliot's face that wouldn't be possible.
Eliot shook his head. "No …she would only use a regular acoustic at recording, which probably got ruined in the crash." He gripped the case handle, "I know this case. It held a special guitar, and it's not here."
Nate watched the hitter closely for a half a second, sensing the missing guitar might just send the younger man teetering over the edge. "You're sure; it's not possible that she could have put it somewhere else? A guitar stand, maybe?" He questioned, looking about the space. "Musicians use those."
"It's not likely." Eliot began gruffly, "I had it made for her."
Nate stored that piece of info away as well. He was sure of one thing: custom guitar or not, it most likely wasn't the guitar itself but what that guitar represented. Nate was going to ask Eliot what he thought it meant, but instead, Nate found himself reassuring him: "we will get these guys."
Eliot didn't say anything, in reply, just hoisted her bag over his shoulder and carried the case with him despite the missing guitar.