The attic of 75 Godiva Street, Thursday afternoon

[vdistinctive]

Eliot was very good at putting on a good face, but he wasn't handling the events of last week very well. He hadn't been sleeping well, even for him, and it wasn't just about nightmares. He was on edge, not so much about his environment -- he'd always been on edge about that, at least since he turned 18 and joined the army -- but about himself. His own reaction to it.

Fighting evil robots in the shop had actually helped that, a little. He'd handled that just as well as he'd ever have done. Had even enjoyed it a little. But he couldn't shake the fact that he had failed last Saturday. Failed his double and failed his partners. Because of an issue he'd thought he had a handle on for years.

Finding time alone hadn't been easy. Parker and Hardison were understandably clingy, right now, and clever enough to notice, despite Eliot's good face, that he really wasn't handling things that well. That he wasn't sleeping. But he couldn't talk to them about this, couldn't look them in the eye and tell them that he wasn't a good enough hitter to keep them safe. And he couldn't think of anyone else he could talk to, either, anyone he could trust, who knew him, who wouldn't change how they treated him once they knew.

So he found his way up to his attic during a quiet moment. Locked the door just to make sure Hardison and Parker knew better than to walk in unannounced.

And made a phone call.

[ooc: for one, and likely slowplay. Mmmm, aftermath.]

Comments

[vdistinctive]

"C'n give it a shot, at least." He wished he'd brought a beer up here or something. It was a terrible idea as far as coping mechanisms went, but at least it might help him through this conversation. "Parker saw 'em first. They had me -- the other me -- cornered, but she just saw they had a victim. Not who it was. I had my sword on me and all, but -- well, apparently I can't stab Parker or Hardison even when I know they're weird zombie copies of themselves."

That wouldn't surprise Sophie in the least. Or anyone else who'd seen him with Parker and Hardison, for that matter. But the fact that his actual Parker and Hardison were there and he hadn't moved to protect them bothered him.

It bothered him a lot.

"Anyway, Parker flipped when she saw it was the other me and basically tried to do my job for me. The other me was -- hurt. Bad. But, you know, he was me, so he was still fightin'. Enough to get the other Hardison --"

He had to cut himself off there. He could still see the dirty, utterly familiar hand thrusting the knife into the other Hardison's throat. He swallowed, took a breath, and decided to skip a step. "Hardison -- the crazy one. Died at my feet. That's, uh. That's when it goes blank."

That was plenty, really. Except for how his Parker and Hardison had still been in danger. Arguably more than they ever had before, with both shaken and afraid, and facing a version of Parker who'd lost her mind, her partner, and her prey.

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

Sophie breathed deep, letting herself process this as much as she could, so that she could help Eliot now. Later, she would demand wine and chocolate from Nate, and cuddling in front of a fire.

"So," she said slowly. "You'd just seen a version of yourself kill a version of Hardison. The other Eliot was badly injured, after being attacked by copies of the other two." Just re-stating it both to make sure she hadn't missed anything, and in order to ground Eliot a bit. "I can guess what you felt right then," she said, rich with sympathy. "Horror. Grief. It sounds like you went into shock."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot shook his head, eyes squeezed shut tight again. "I know from shock, Soph." He knew from physical shock, anyway, the shock of gunshot wounds and blood loss and broken bones. "This was -- I dunno if I was even there. It was like I got -- locked. Into the worst parts of my own head."

Blood and rubble and bodies and bodies. The remains of Sarajevo. Of Belgrade. Of Zagreb. Of Grozny. Of too many damn cities. Too many damn bodies.

He opened his eyes.

"That's exactly what it was." He was getting quieter again. "God, it's almost a cliche, right? Ex-soldier with PTSD. How the hell do I tell Hardison and Parker that I'm not -- I can't --"

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

"Eliot." Sophie's voice was harder now, but still kind. "Post-traumatic stress disorder means that you have a variety of symptoms, for at least several months. Have you been flashing back to the event-- not just recalling it or having nightmares, but surprised out of your normal routine? Have you had any uncontrolled anger over the last week? Hyper-alertness?" Which, for Eliot, would mean even less sleep than usual. "Stop. Do not try to diagnose yourself. Take a breath, a deep breath, and tell me what you are afraid of right now, at this moment."

[vdistinctive]

This. This was exactly why Sophie was the only one he could have called.

"I screwed up, Soph. When I came out of it, they were all dead. Parker and Hardison were holdin' the other me and they were wrecked. I couldn't protect them from that. What good is a hitter who can't even do his job?"

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

You didn't get to be one of the best grifters ever by not knowing how people react to stress. And how to avoid triggering it in marks, as well as helping clients with Leverage.

"You are the best hitter I know. These are extraordinarily unfair circumstances. The odds of you encountering this situation again--" Well, they were probably higher than average, living on that blasted Island. "How long does this -- blank space in your memory, last? It sounds like it was at most a minute or two." Sophie frowned, and then asked, "And what happened to the other Parker?"

[vdistinctive]

"I don't know," Eliot admitted. "Coulda been a minute. Coulda been ten. And Parker -- It wasn't Hardison who did it." He wouldn't have been able to. "But other than that. I really don't know."

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

"Have you talked about this with either of them?" Sophie paused and said more quietly, "I think you should. Without all the blame, and second-guessing. You can't accurately judge what you did or didn't do right now, without more information."

She sighed and sat down in front of an abstract painting (http://www.artic.edu/sites/default/files/styles/slideshow_scale/public/exh_moholy-nagy_main_4.jpg?itok=v7iFajvs) that reminded her of a sunset in a lost city, and said, "And you will get past this. Not over it. I can't imagine that's possible. But, one moment of overwhelming emotion is not a trend. Do you know what emotional shock is, by the way? Acute stress reaction?" He might have come across the term while he was in service to any of a number of military outfits in the past.

[vdistinctive]

"Not really," he admitted. "Parker talked about trainin' the two of 'em up, makin' 'em better fighters. Hardison -- we been dodgin' the conversation. Keepin' it light."

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

"Perfectly normal. For the three of you," Sophie said lightly. "And there's no reason to rush it. But when you're ready, I think you'll find they won't judge you for it. It can't have been any less traumatic for them, either."

She let her voice become matter-of-fact. "Acute stress reaction is when you experience an ugly, terrifying surprise on such a level that it shakes you to your foundations. Your fight-or-flight response kicks in as the adrenaline takes over. Most people run or freeze then, or react with whatever automatic training they have. You're so well-trained, experienced, and used to split-second decisions, that I would imagine it's been years since you've had to fall back on intuition in a fight due to that kind of shock." So many bloody fights, so many battles, and this, this was not something anyone could prepare for.

[vdistinctive]

Eliot rubbed his eyes, wiping away a dampness he hadn't noticed until now. "I guess -- that ain't inaccurate." Hell, he watched hockey fights just in case he ended up fighting someone on ice. He prepared for everything. "We'd had a run in with the other Parker and Hardison the day before. Fought 'em off, but it wasn't anything like -- that."

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

"Your double wasn't there the first time?" Sophie asked, then said softly, "Eliot, you've been through awful things on that island before. But this-- you love them both so much. Even knowing their twins existed before you stumbled across them attacking the other Eliot, that wouldn't be enough preparation for a fight to the death. And it sounds like they wouldn't have been satisfied with anything less."

[vdistinctive]

"But bein' prepared is what I'm supposed to do, Sophie. Especially when it's life or death. If anything had happened to them while I was -- if either of them had gotten hurt, I don't know what I'd do."

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

The what-ifs, the might-have-beens, those were not roads that could help him, or that he could avoid going down for a while, probably. Sophie ached for him, and for Hardison and Parker, and wished she could bundle them all in the softest Egyptian cotton for the immediate future.

"It would not be all on you. First: you all came out alive. And you can not, should not, condemn yourself for what no one else could handle any better." More gently, Sophie said, "What have you learned from this? If there were to be a next time: what would you do first?"

[vdistinctive]

Kill the other two, so his crew never had to.

Except he was pretty sure he still wouldn't be able to do that. Not without losing it completely.

"Not freeze," he said instead, which still wasn't a real answer to her question. "God, Sophie. I didn't even try --"

She wasn't asking for your regrets, Eliot.

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

"Eliot, no," Sophie said, her voice that stern older-sisterish one that she got sometimes, when dealing with one of the crew's foibles. This is the way the world is, and you must believe me about that. "You learned that you *could* freeze. This isn't a choice you consciously make. This is what happens when the people you love most are the threat." She was silent a moment, hoping he was hearing her. "And that means you can't let your reactions be the only line of defense."

That was getting into tactics, and long-term strategy, so: back to Eliot. "What do you do when a plane is crashing, and the oxygen mask comes down?"

[vdistinctive]

Eliot was quiet for a long moment, processing what she'd just said.

This is what happens when the people you love most are the threat.

He hadn't thought of it that way. Even while watching it happen, it just didn't compute. Parker and Hardison weren't threats. The only time he'd ever thought that way was under Gaunt's thrall, which had been so strong that the love, repressed and unexamined as it had been then, couldn't show through.

This is what happens when the people you love most are the threat.

"Put the mask on," he said finally. He wanted to say 'get to the cockpit and help land the plane' but 99 times out of 100, that wouldn't be feasible. There wouldn't be time, and he wouldn't have the expertise. Or Hardison on the line to hack the plane. "Brace for impact."

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

"Yes." Sophie smiled, and got up, walking away from the lost-city-and-sunset painting. "You will be better prepared, if there ever is a next time, and I truly hope there never will be. But if there is." She smiled sadly. "You'll brace yourself. You'll recognize what is happening. You'll take that moment to breathe. And then you'll work out where the threat is, and act." She was quiet, and then said in her most flippant tone, because it was far too serious for any kind of convincing tone, and she didn't want Eliot to think she was trying to con him. "I have faith in you."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot leaned his head back against the wall and let out a slow breath through his nose.

God, he was tired.

"Thanks, Sophie."

He wasn't better. This wasn't a phone call about fixing anything. But he'd been stuck in the worst part of his own head, and Sophie was the woman who could convince anyone of anything.

"So. What've you and Nate been up to? Still pretendin' you two went legit?"

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

"We are legit!... Mostly." Her theater and director's job was still very real, thank you very much. "My students are progressing wonderfully. Nate is trying several different things in order to keep himself occupied." She paused and added, "Including chess. I think he'll want a rematch, the next time you two are in the same city."

You couldn't 'fix' pain, or trauma, like you could a broken vase. Bruised hearts needed time and softness to heal. But you could bandage up the wounds a bit, put on antiseptic so feelings didn't go toxic, and recommend a course of treatment. Hopefully Eliot would listen to what she prescribed.

"Keeping busy keeps him out of trouble."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot snorted. "Always were an optimist when it comes to him, huh." Nate keeping out of trouble. Good one. "Tell him I'm up for a game whenever he is. They used to publish chess games in the newspaper, I figure we can do long distance over email or whatever."

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

Sophie laughed, already amused at the idea, and the no-doubt stinging mockeries that would be slung from phones and email very soon. "I shall." She bit her lip and said, "I don't want to invite ourselves, if you three need time to yourselves, but. Do you think you'd be up for a visit from us, sometime before the new year?"

[vdistinctive]

"Absolutely," Eliot said, with feeling. That would make their plan to steal them a wedding that much easier to pull off, after all. "Hell, Soph, you two are family. You're welcome any time. And you know Parker'll go nuts at getting to see you guys for Christmas."

Parker's Christmas lasted well past the Epiphany, so that gave them all plenty of time.

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

"Oh, lord. Is it elf hats or angel halos this year?" Sophie was smiling into the phone, her own mood lightening as it seemed Eliot's did. "I'll be sure to bring ribbons and money for her. As well the newest tech we can find for Hardison." She paused at the exit of the Institute. "And what do you want for Christmas, Eliot?"

[vdistinctive]

"Antlers. I'm predictin' three pairs at a time by this time next week." And probably a giant Christmas light necklace. The more obnoxious, the better.

Hell, he might even get one for her himself.

"Was thinkin' of a wakizashi, but I already asked Parker for that one. Also been thinkin' about settin' one of these rooms here up as a dojo or somethin', though. How 'bout somethin' peaceful to decorate with?"

[thenameislara.livejournal.com]

"Excellent." Sophie beamed as she walked out the door. A random passerby walked into a wall, seeing that smile. "I know just the thing. Expect us when you see us, darling." Then more quietly, "And call again, if you need to. All right?"

[vdistinctive]

"Yeah," Eliot agreed. "Might finally manage more'n an hour of sleep tonight. Thanks again, Soph."

He'd promise to call next time with something happy, but, well. They'd both know better.