Eliot found himself unusually off his game today, for some reason. They had just gotten back from the job up in Alaska, bringing Drexel and his company down, and he hadn't been able to shake the time spent with Parker in the crevasse. Something between them had changed that day. He could feel it, and he was almost certain she felt it too. He'd always felt a certain amount of protection towards her, but it had only heightened when they fell into that cave where they found Alan's body. He knew realistically that she didn't need his protection, or anyone's for that matter. She was far from innocent; yet still he felt an increase responsibility to take care of her.

In the days since returning from Alaska, Eliot had hardly been able to meet Parker's eyes. She was highly perceptive, perhaps more than he was, and he feared her being able to sense that something in him had changed. That was easier said than done, as their next job happened to involve a case that hit home for Parker. Orphaned and abandoned children.

A foster parent came forward to them, describing the situation as nothing short of grim and tragic. Her newest foster daughter had come from a children's home that, as she told, looked as though it would barely pass a health inspection. Her foster child had come to her malnourished, abused and struggling with night terrors. Upon gentle persuasion, she had discovered that the children's home was basically turning the children into slaves, domestically and physically. No doubt of there even being sexual abuse in the home. It was clearly filled with corrupt caretakers who sought out cheap labor.

Eliot couldn't help watching Parker react as Nate laid out the case for them. He could see the nostalgia in her eyes, though it was anything but good. It was broken and so very sad. He knew she too had grown up in the system, though he had no idea the things she had seen and experienced there. Had she too been forced into physical labor, or been sexually abused? While part of him wondered, the other part dreaded the answer, especially in regards to the last part. He wasn't sure if he actually even wanted to know.

"Are you good, Eliot?" He heard a voice break through his trance, and snapped his head in the direction of the voice, only to find it was Parker. The rest of the team had already left for their assigned roles.

He struggled for a response, and just shook his head. "I was just thinking, this case might be on the harder side for you, don't you think?" He was in no way implying she couldn't do it. But he knew enough from her past that, had it been him, he wouldn't have wanted to take part of this case. If he was being honest though, this case hit home for him too. He'd spent much of his past doing things he now wished he could go back and change, and a lot of it had involved kids. Now, any case that involved children was a case of redemption for him. But for Parker he knew it ran deeper. So it came as no shock to him when he saw a shift in her expression.

"I don't know," she started as she sat down next to him, "I try not to think about my time in the system. Honestly though it makes me think more of my brother and less of myself."

He couldn't help but smile, albeit sadly. Leave it to Parker to think of other's before herself in a case like this. He knew her brother had died when she was young. How unfair that she had to endure such trauma at such a young age. "Well, you and I are taking the lead on this case. But if you need to step back, tell me immediately. I can take this if you really need me to."

She smiled lightly at him, her way of saying thank you. "He was a great kid, you know." She said in a soft voice.

He tilted his head, waiting for her to continue rather than saying anything.

"He would've managed our parents' deaths better than I did. I was never good at being with or around people. Alex was outgoing and friendly and sweet. Sometimes it was almost as if he was the older one looking out for me." Tears came to her eyes that she tried hard to push down.

Eliot couldn't watch. He didn't want to ever see her in pain. But his heart fluttered at the fact that she trusted him enough to talk to him about a painful subject. And yet he also wondered... "Can I ask what it was like in the system? You know better than anyone what these kids are or might be going through." He feared asking her about something so close and personal. He beat himself up internally when her face only fell further.

She fiddled with her thumbs for a moment, trying to think of how to word her response. "The system isn't easy for any kid. There's so much fear because most of the homes are horribly abusive. I can't think of a single home I was in where we weren't smacked around daily, or used as free child labor. Don't even get me started on the sexual abuse."

His heart stopped. So she had been sexually abused. He had spent the time hoping she'd been one of the lucky few who hadn't been. Hoping to come across as some kind of comfort, he reached and held her hand in his own. "You don't have to continue if it hurts too much, Parker," he assured her gently. He never wanted her to feel like she had to share any of this with him.

Parker simply shook her head in response. "I want to." She paused for a moment, likely gathering her thoughts and courage to talk about what had happened to her in the homes. "Most kids who are put in the system experience some kind of sexual abuse, whether it's touching, verbal, or...rape. Unfortunately, I don't have enough fingers on my hands to count the amount of times I experienced each one of those," her eyes closed in noticeable pain at the memories being washed to the surface. "I remember...this one home I was in, I was taken in by an older couple. They never had children, and the man was nice enough I suppose. But, his wife was cruel. She would often have these little parties when her husband was out of town on business. There would be all these people over, men and women. I think they paid the woman...for me. She once sold me to this man, I think he was ex-military now that I think about it. He kept me locked in his home for weeks. I spent those weeks in the basement of his house. When he wasn't beating or...raping me...I was left alone in the darkness. I think that's why I like crawling through dark places. It was the only time I felt safe during the time I was with him." A small tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly brushed it away.

Eliot had only seen Parker cry once before, when that Rand guy pulled out the past of her brother's death. She never cried, and it was a heartbreaking scene to witness. "How old were you?" He tried so hard to keep his voice from cracking, but the story had brought back memories of his own. How many lives had he destroyed? How many kids had he sent to probably experience the same fate as Parker? He knew he had no business feeling sorrowful at the story, but he had put in so much effort to change. Kids were now on his top list, and any harm inflicted on them made him want to fly into a rage.

she shrugged. "I don't know. Ten? Maybe eleven. It was before I found Archie."

Few things made Eliot want to throw up in his mouth anymore. After all he had seen and done, he wasn't easily sickened. But knowing Parker had been raped, especially at such a young age, horrified him. Before he had the chance to say anything, his phone rang next to him on the counter. "What?" He asked in a harsher tone than he intended. He hated that he and Parker had just been interrupted.

"Alright, Eliot," it was Nate on the other side, and he seemed unfazed by Eliot's tone, "I need you and Parker to get down to the home now. Sophie has them in a good mood. They think they're in line for an award as one of the best children's homes in the country. They will want to keep up appearances for anyone looking to foster or adopt." He hung up with no further instructions.

With a grumble, Eliot moved to put his comm in his ear. "C'mon," he motioned to Parker to get up, "they're ready for us."

She stood from her seat and straightened out her blazer that Sophie had lent her so she would look professional. "Do I look motherly in this?" She questioned Eliot, unsure whether she looked more like a politician and less like a fake-wanna-be mother.

He looked her up and down. It was hard for him to concentrate on what she was wearing over the figure of her body. She had such a shapely figure, slim but still curvy. She fit in his arms so perfectly, he already knew from the sadly few times she had embraced him. He quickly realized that he was taking a little long to respond and cleared his throat. "You look great." He said softly, trying not to sound so emotional and give away what he was thinking. He turned quickly on his heel and walked out the door before she had a chance to respond.