Work Text:
Title: "Eliot's Prayers"
Author: Kat Lee
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Eliot finds himself praying again.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
He used to never pray. He'd given up on God and religion. If there was a God, He'd either never cared about him or stopped caring after Eliot had killed a thousand or so people. Some days, Eliot preferred to believe the latter, some days the former, but then, slowly, he started finding himself praying again.
He prayed he'd see the team again the first time they split up. He prayed Sophie would find who she needed, Nate what he needed, and Parker some one who wouldn't hurt her. He prayed Alec would stay the same always and never let the harsh realities of the world in which they had to live take away the last bit of his innocence, the desire to spend hours playing games, and the simple pleasures he took in Internet chat.
He prayed the first time Parker made what seemed to even him to be an impossible jump. She was so young. She might not actually be all that much younger than him, but her naivety, especially the beautiful innocence that had stayed with her throughout all the hardships she'd suffered, made her seem so much younger, sometimes not much older than a child. He prayed she'd keep that naivety when she survived that fall, and another, and another still until he stopped praying altogether that she'd survive the falls and just kept praying that her sweet innocence would survive all they underwent.
He prayed the first time it seemed that they weren't getting out of the mission alive. He didn't pray for himself. God knew he deserved to be caught, to be punished, and to be killed, but he prayed for the others around him. Nate had been hurt so much; he didn't want to see the older man lose for which he felt he had to live. Like Nate, Sophie had been hurt too much; he didn't want to see her beauty ever be tarnished again. Alec and Parker still somehow held on to some innocence, making him want to protect them even more than Nate and Sophie. He'd gladly die to keep them alive or even just their innocence intact.
He prayed when they ran from multiple governments, an army, and sweeping other numbers that seemed impossible to beat. Again, it wasn't himself for whom he prayed. He prayed for his friends, for the team and family they had become. And then he realized, one day when Nate was downed, Sophie tied up, Parker almost crushed, and Hardison defenseless . . . He realized it wasn't them for whom he'd been praying all this time.
He'd been praying for himself. He didn't want to lose a single member of his team. He didn't want any of them to be hurt, because he hurt when they hurt. He'd rather be shot a thousand times over than watch any of the four being hurt again. He'd come to love them each in their own way and for their own reasons.
He needed every one of them. They made something deep inside of him come to life again. They made him want to pray, want to be a better man, want to be good again. They made him want to live.
The President he was facing suddenly paused when a grin sparked over Eliot's wry face. The man was covered in blood, both his arms broken and his feet chained. He was surrounded by the President's men. There was no way he could escape. He was as good as dead already.
But the President didn't know Eliot Spencer. He didn't know what made him tick or what makes a man who's lost everything suddenly decide to fight and live and love again. He didn't know the force with which he reckoned wasn't merely the force of one man. It was the force of love. Eliot laughed as he overthrew the President with apparent ease.
Then he faced his guards, his eyes and smile becoming hard again. He gestured to them with his fingers to come at them, and as they came, he fought. He fought harder, braver, and better than ever before. He fought with the strength, courage, and cunning of a man who'd just gone from having nothing to lose to having everything to lose or gain, depending on rather or not he reached his opponents' other prisoners in time. He fought better than he ever had before, knowing, believing, and trusting in God that he would win and all the while praying that his time with his team, his family and friends, will never end.
The End