A/N: Fair warning, this one is not very fluffy. But we have to have a little bit of angst mixed in with the fluff, right? Just to shake things up? Anyway, this came about because I was reading somewhere that in the show, Sophie and Eliot are more like peers whereas she's more like a mother to Hardison and Parker. So I thought I would see what things looked like in the Little Leverage 'verse if Eliot was growing up and starting to have a different role in the family. But of course, he is first and always, their protector. :) I would love to hear your thoughts on this one!
The night was lonely again, Sophie's only comfort the fact that this time he had at least given her a call to let her know he would be late. But she knew what late meant.
The kettle whistled and she filled her mug, letting the hot porcelain warm her hands as she headed for the couch and her book. She would wait up for him, even though she knew he hated it because it made him feel guilty. She didn't mind making him feel a little guilty.
She sank down into the soft leather, her feet curled up under the throw pillow in the corner, but didn't reach for her book yet. She had heard the soft snick of an opening door down the hall, and she watched the darkness, wondering which of the kids it would be.
It was Eliot. The teenager paused for a moment when she met his eyes, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes asking questions she knew would be hard to answer.
She patted the couch next to her, giving him an apologetic smile. "Did I wake you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He shook his head. His hair was shorter than it'd been in a long time and it was sticking up at gravity-defying angles which she was dying to attempt to smooth out. "Dad out again?" he asked, sitting down carefully next to her, his eyes on his knees.
"Eliot," she said, a gentle warning. She saw the anger in his shoulders.
He gave a short shake of his head. "He has to stop."
She watched him, a little surprised by the vehemence in his tone.
"That's not for you to worry about, honey. I've told you, Dad will be fine."
"I'm still waiting," he said, his eyes flashing as he threw a glare at her.
Sophie sat quietly, staring him down.
His eyes darted away. "Sorry. It's just …"
She took a sip of her tea; it was just still hot enough to feel uncomfortably hot on her tongue. "I don't want you to worry," she repeated.
He stood, shoving his hands in the pockets of his flannel pants and turning away from her. "If I don't, who will?" he muttered.
"Dad and I are taking care of it," she said firmly, getting frustrated with his stubbornness.
He snorted. "Yeah, I can tell."
Sophie bit her lip, clutching her mug tightly. This new, adolescent incarnation of her stubborn boy was a bit disturbing to her. "Better get some sleep," she said, making an effort to keep her voice level.
"Mom!" he exploded, turning toward her, his hands flying into the air in frustration. "You can't keep letting him do this! Parker and Alec are gonna find out and freak out, and what if he gets worse? He's gonna get worse unless you stop him!"
The fear on his face was suddenly all she could see. Her brave Eliot, who had passed through trial and injury and storms with hardly a wince was going to let this be his undoing? She stood, setting her mug on the coffee table and reaching for his shoulder - his shoulder that came almost up to her's now - but he shrugged away, his eyes still burning.
"I can't stop him," she told him. She watched surprise, then resolve pass across his face. "You need to understand something about people, Eliot. You can't make people do things. You can encourage, you can convince, you can do everything in your power, but in the end people will make the choices they feel they have to make."
His shoulders slumped a little, his eyebrows drawing together. "Then what are we supposed to do?"
The defeat and confusion in his voice reminded he was only fourteen. An age where everything seemed bigger than you, and Eliot had been taking on too many big things his entire life. "Sweetheart, we keep doing what we're doing. We have patience. We try to understand. And we let him know we love him."
He frowned, staring at the floor. "How long's it gonna take?"
She just shook her head.
He heaved a sigh and headed for his bedroom.
"It's going to be okay, Eliot, I promise," she said, hoping she sounded more convinced than she felt.
He just shrugged and disappeared down the dim hallway.
Sophie sighed a sigh to match and sat back down, picking up her cooling mug, and waited for the front door to open.