75 Godiva Street, Early Tuesday morning

[vdistinctive]

It was inevitable after what had happened over the last week, even with Parker and Hardison and Val all right there in the bed with him. Last night had been blissfully dreamless, but it was never destined to last.

The sun beat down so hard on the barren hills it blinded him. Eliot squinted into it, shading his eyes with his hands, but it didn't help. All he could make out were silhouettes of trees and mirages.

Don't worry, Eliot. Kathy turned and raised her fingers in a V.

Dammit, child --

The world exploded in a volley of gun shots and Eliot ducked behind a broken piece of concrete, pressing his helmet down harder on his head.

не брините Елиот. She stood in the center of the broken road and smiled at him. ви ћете доћи да ме видиш , зар не? The heat warped the air around her in waves, and she vanished. Eliot vaulted over the edge of the barricade with a shout, but the warehouse had already gone up in flames.

He couldn't reach her. He couldn't reach any of them.

Hands landed on his shoulders and he spun, drawing his weapon and catching the first figure holding him on the side of the head. Al Swearengen collapsed at Eliot's feet, and Eliot fired at the second, square between the eyes. Wild Bill dropped to his knees, aces and eights. Don't hold me back, Eliot begged. Don't you dare hold me back. Al grabbed for his ankle and Eliot swung the gun again and again, until his face was putty and blood coated Eliot's hands.

Now look what you fucking went and did, Al said, and Eliot stared down at the body of the man beneath him, tall and dark skinned and wearing a tattered leather trenchcoat. He twisted and looked back, and saw Parker staring at him, blue and cold, the bullet wound like a third eye on her brow.

Eliot's whole body clenched and he came awake on a ragged inhale, instinctively holding still and quiet until he could recognize his surroundings. He forced his hands to release their grip on the sheets as he recognized his bedroom. He could hear Hardison and Parker breathing beside him. He tried to close his eyes and will himself back to sleep, but the moment they shut all he could see were his bloody hands and his crew on the dusty ground.

Fuck.

He wasn't going to be getting back to sleep any time soon. Time to go for a run.

[ooc: for those in the bed. Dream contents bloody and violent, and NFB, natch.]

Comments

[vdistinctive]

Jesus, they were going to make him cry. "I know that," he growled. "It ain't -- you can't logic it better. You don't do what I've done and come out whole. It's just something I deal with."

[whoisalicewhite.livejournal.com]

That was so sad. And so wrong. And... Parker hung onto him, and threaded her fingers through Hardison's. "You don't have to be," she whispered. "We just.. .wanted you to know."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Ain't tryna convince you," Hardison said at the same time. "Just remindin' you. Makin' sure you know that you ain't gotta deal with this alone. You wouldn't leave me after my nightmare, would you? Or expect me to keep it to myself? We're the same here. You can have your space if you need it, or be quiet if you wanna, but that ain't gonna stop us from bein' here for you in whatever way you need."

[vdistinctive]

Dealing with it alone was the only thing Eliot knew how to do. Eliot's breath shuddered on something frighteningly close to a sob.

He usually ran to drown it all out. Exhausted his body until his mind had no choice but to shut up as well. Let the images play out over and over until they lost their power. He couldn't bear to do that with these though, couldn't press his tongue to them like a toothache. Parker and Hardison dead was never something he wanted to get used to, even in his subconscious.

So he'd replace it, then. A bloody hand traded for a wet cheek pressed against Hardison's palm. Dead, staring eyes for smell of Parker's hair. Terror for tear-salted lips, making contact on whatever skin he could find.

They were warm. There. And alive. Anything else was details.

[whoisalicewhite.livejournal.com]

Eliot was crying.

Panic wanted to rear its head, but Parker stomped on it. And glomped Eliot tighter. And wished she could fix it for him, somehow. But he said it couldn't be fixed, and he was perfectly Eliot anyway, so...

She matched her breathing to his, and kept her eyes on Hardison as an anchor, and held on.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Hardison pressed his lips softly against the back of Eliot's neck, lacing his fingers with Parker's, a pattern of light and dark over Eliot. His other hand kept carding through Eliot's hair, soft and soothing. "We're here for you, man, we got you. As long as you're here, with us, you're safe."

It didn't really matter what he said, honestly, so long as it came out as a calming rumble.