The mastermind slammed the empty glass on the bar and quickly asked for another. He was in a bar a few blocks away from the hospital. Well, technically it was one block away but he circled around it three times before he decided to go in. Hardison needed him and he knew it but the pain was too much. He needed a few hours to lose himself before he could help the hacker out.
"A man who drinks like that must have an interesting life."
Nate turned towards the source of the noise and stared. There was an old looking man on his right. He looked like Santa with his long white beard and cherry cheeks. His eyes were happy and a bright blue color. There was a smile on his face and he looked far too interested for the mastermind's taste.
"I'm an alcoholic," Nate shrugged, "I drink for a living."
"Oh really," the man chuckled, "How are you still alive?"
Nate rolled his eyes and tried to come up with the most childish retort he could. "Too stubborn to die," he said.
"I'm sure Ms. Devereaux would agree with you," the man chuckled harder this time around.
Nate's whole body tensed at that one statement. He concentrated on the bartender delivering his drink and took a deep breath. He carefully controlled his emotions and switched to a blank face. He turned towards the man and smiled.
"Who's that?" He asked.
"Ms. Devereaux," the man repeated. That stupid smile was still on his face and he looked genuinely fascinated by the reaction he was getting. Then he sputtered and started shaking his head with a frown on his face. "Oh, you misunderstand me. I mean you no harm, Mr. Ford."
Nate stared at the man and allowed the façade to fail. He allowed his anger and frustration through. Then he carefully glared the man down.
"I'm here to help," the strange man added.
"Yeah," Nate growled, "And who are you?"
"A friend, Mr. Ford," the man replied. He placed his hand on the mastermind's arm and squeezed gently. "You're in need and I'm here to help however you wish."
Nate stared at the man incredulously. He couldn't quite decide if this was a con or just a weird guy too drunk to figure out where he was. But he mentioned Sophie and that was dangerous territory.
"Are you here to offer me some kind of ransom?" Nate asked.
"No, Mr. Ford," the man said, "Like I said before. I'm here to help you. Ms. Devereaux will be fine. Mr. Spencer is taking care of it. He's in for quite a surprise when he gets there too. That grifter of yours is a little spitfire."
Nate jumped to his feet and the whole bar quieted. His fists were in the old man's shirt and ready for danger. The rage of what happened was pulsing through his veins and he had no qualms about taking it out on this guy.
"What do you mean by that?" He demanded shouting as he went, "What the Hell do you mean by that? Tell me now, old man!"
"Relax," the man replied. He raised his arms in surrender and waved the bar patrons away. He just stared his blue eyes into the mastermind's soul and let him see the kind intentions. "I'm not going to harm any member of your team. I'm here to help you see that this is not as bad as it seems."
"Parker's lying in a hospital bed with a bullet wound. Hardison is nothing but a shell until she wakes up and that's if she wakes up. Eliot's missing and refuses to let me know where he is so I don't have to worry about him. And my girlfriend has been taken by a mark who likes to use pretty things even if they don't want him! What could be worse?"
The man smiled at the mastermind's answer. "Why do you think this happened?" He asked.
Nate stared at the man in confusion again. He quickly placed the man on the stool and tried to understand the question at large. He was coming up empty.
"Mr. Ford," the man replied, "I was sent here to show you the answer to your question."
"What question?" Nate snarled, "Sent by whom?"
"First," the man said, "Tell me the one thing you wish for most."
"My son," Nate replied readily enough, "but you can't give me him."
The man thought about it for a moment then shook his head. "I can but you have to ask," he explained, "but you have to be willing to accept the consequences and I'm pretty certain that isn't the real question you want answered."
"Go away," Nate begged. He picked up his forgotten glass of beer and drained it in one gulp. He signaled for another and ignored the man staring at him. Then the blue eyes became too much. "What?"
"Today's job ended badly, didn't it?"
Nate rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. Humoring this stranger seemed to be the only thing left to do.
"It was definitely in the bottom five."
The man nodded at that. "Right next to the job where you lost your father, I'm sure," he said, "Then there's that one that started with Ms. Devereaux holding a bomb. Mr. Hardison buried alive shook you up pretty badly. Is Mr. Spencer's run in with the carnival ride on that list?"
"You've really done your homework," Nate scoffed.
"I had to," the man said, "I had to know why you were sitting in a bar when your friend is in a hospital bed."
"I told you I'm an alcoholic," Nate replied.
"Yes," the man chuckled, "You did. But that's just an excuse. Alcoholics run to alcohol to survive. You run to hide."
"How is that not the definition of an alcoholic?" The mastermind laughed.
"You think it's your fault that Parker was shot."
The final gulp of whiskey down the mastermind's throat took a while to go down. His muscles tensed at the man's very good guess. His jaw tightened and his teeth wanted to ground each other into dust. He turned towards the man and waited.
"Of course that's not true but I want to know how you think you could avoid it?"
"I missed something," Nate decided, "I was too busy worrying about the dead kid and the similarities she had with my son. I should have let Sophie take over."
"You think Sophie would have done better under the circumstances?" the man mused.
"She would have listened to Eliot when he warned her to avoid a direct confrontation," the mastermind nodded.
"Ahh," the man nodded, "that. You listened. Why didn't you heed the advice?"
"I listen but I don't care," Nate responded, "Sophie tried to keep my head straight but that shouldn't be her job. She's supposed to only worry about how she's going to get the mark eating out of her hand."
"And what about Mr. Hardison and Parker?" the man asked, "How did you fail them?"
"She got shot didn't she?" Nate rasped, "And Hardison is willing to follow me into the fire even though I've failed him time and time again."
"So you're saying they'd be better off without you?" the man asked softly.
Nate mulled that over for a few moments. There were a lot of truths to what the man said. If it wasn't for him the team would have never been in that kind of danger.
"Yeah," he said, "They would be better off without me. They certainly wouldn't get into as much danger as they do now."
"Are you absolutely certain of that, Mr. Ford?" the man demanded softly, "They seem to be the kind of people to know what's good for them and what's bad. They think you're the best thing to ever happen."
"That's because they don't know any better," Nate replied, "Dammit! Every single one of them had crappy childhoods. Except Eliot… and maybe Sophie. They were all broken when I met them. They only got worse when I got a hold of them. Parker used to know when danger was coming a mile away! Hardison never left the building he used to set up shop! Eliot already had his moment of clarity before he met me! Hell, Sophie would be a better grifter and a lot richer. So Yes, I think they would be better off without me!"
"Is that your wish?" the man asked a devilish grin forming on his lips.
"Is that what you want?" Nate demanded briskly, "Fine! I wish they never met me! No! Let's do one better. I wish I was never born! That way Maggie wouldn't have to deal with the loss of a child or anything."
"If you insist," the man replied. He snapped his fingers and clapped his hands. Nobody in the bar even gave him a second look. They just kept drinking and he just kept that smile on his face. "There. It's done. You've never been born."
"Just like that?" Nate laughed. This was ridiculous. A wish like that could never happen.
"Just like that," the man nodded, "I'm an angel of the Lord and I just granted your wish. Maybe now I'll get my wings."
Nate spit out his drink and stared at the man. He stared at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "And angel of the Lord," he asked.
"Yes," the man nodded, "My name is Reuel. I have granted your wish to earn my wings."
"Are you serious?" Nate asked, "It's a Wonderful Life? That's what you're going with?"
"It's true," Reuel replied, "Just check the hospital. Your friends are no longer there. You were never born."
"So if I were to use my credit card," Nate suggested boldly, "It wouldn't work, right?"
"No, but there's plenty of cash in your wallet," Reuel said, "You still have your license too. I even gave you my platinum card. All you have to do is run it through and you have as much money as you need."
"For what?" Nate demanded irritably.
"To see what they've gained since they never had you," Reuel smiled demonically towards him, "Check the hospital if you don't believe me."
Nate stared at the man for a few minutes and decided to see how far this went. He paid the bartender, amazed by the amount of cash in his wallet. Then he grabbed Reuel's arm and headed for the theif's room.
When they got there, the room was empty. Nate panicked and rushed towards the nurse's desk. She looked confused and didn't understand who he was.
"Alice Wh-Baker!" He corrected softly, "Alice Baker. She came in here with a bullet to the chest."
The nurse nodded at the statement and quickly clicked away. She stared at the screen a few seconds then shook her head.
"There's no Alice Baker here, sir," she said.
"What?" Nate demanded frantically, "No! We brought her here just a few hours ago. Check again!"
The nurse looked annoyed but obeyed. She shook her head and took notice of his panicking exterior.
"Maybe she was transferred to another hospital," she suggested softly, "I can check."
"Please," Nate smiled in relief.
"I'm sorry," she said, "Maybe you have the wrong hospital."
"Yeah," Nate nodded, "maybe."
Reuel was standing there with a bright smile on his face. Well, a four year old girl was telling him what she wanted for Christmas. He was kindly taking note and making certain to add it to the list. Then he took note of the fact that Nate had returned. He bid the girl good-bye and looked expectantly towards his charge.
"Well?" he asked.
"She's gone," Nate replied, "Parker's gone."
"I told you," Reuel smiled, "You were never born. Your team was never made. She was never shot. All of your worries are gone."
"Can I see them?" Nate asked. He wanted to see how elaborate this con was. Fooling the nurse and changing the hospital was easy. How far did this con go, was the question.
"Of course you can," Reuel said, "Who would you like to start with. Mr. Hardison might be a bit of a shock but Mr. Spencer will be easy. Parker's always been difficult. Ms. Devereaux no longer exists-"
"What do you mean Sophie doesn't exist?" Nate snarled.
Reuel rolled his eyes. "Relax," he said, "I meant the name doesn't exist. You weren't there to inspire her to create it. The person still exists. She's just… different."
Nate grabbed the man by his collar and growled.
"That's a pretty good Eliot Spencer impersonation," Reuel said. His voice was only slightly nervous. He looked confidant that his face would not be caved in by the end of this.
"Listen," Nate rasped, "I don't care what kind of con you're trying to pull off. I want to know what you've done with my team and I want to know right now!"
"Find Mr. Spencer and you'll understand everything," he said.
"Fine," Nate sighed, "Let's go."
"I've got enough magic," Reuel explained, "We'll take the fast way."