Hey, could you write a fanfic about the missing scenes after yesterday's clip? A still out of it and not completely well Eliott realizing Lola is 'fine'? I think they both need a convo and honestly, after yesterday's clip I'm worried more about Eliott now that we know that Lola is safe. Don't get me wrong, I'm still worried about her
Ah, yes the missing scenes! I hope I can provide a small sense of closure for you and I hope that this is what you were looking for! Thank you for the request!
AO3- Book_Lover2001
Eliott could feel Lucas’ hand on his back; he could feel his presence next to him like a comforting, soothing force. He could see him, worry and fear creased in the lines of his face all for a girl who he barely knew, all for a situation they couldn’t control. Eliott felt him, saw him, and yet it was as if he wasn’t there. It was as if Eliott was underwater and everything was out of reach, floating away from Lucas the further he sunk.
He was better than he was last weekend, but not entirely. He still felt like he was trapped under a sheet of ice, or like he was living out of his body, or like he just woke up from a long nap-- pick whichever analogy you want to use, but none could truly describe how off he felt.
Daphné had gone up the tower thirty minutes ago and for each minute that passed, Eliott slipped an inch further. Lucas didn’t speak, afraid that he might say the wrong thing and unsure if the moment required arbitrary small talk or the mutterings of hopeful optimism.
“Was this how you felt when I ran off?” Eliott asked, his voice far off in a daze as his eyes never broke from the doorway. He could sense his boyfriend watching him, as the question hung in the air.
“Yes and no,” Lucas finally replied with a soft tone. “I felt, unsure, afraid, worried, a bit lost, but the difference is I knew where you were.”
“I don’t like feeling like this.” Lucas reached up and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, in a loving manor.
“She’ll be okay. She’s strong, like you.” As if Lucas' words triggered the mercy of the universe, the door of the building swung open and Daphné walked out with Lola tucked under her arm. Eliott felt all the air leave his lungs at the sight of his friend safe, but suddenly he didn’t know what to do. Should he hug her? Should he say something? Lucas’ touch ran down Eliott’s arm before dropping entirely, as if giving him permission to leave his side, but Eliott stayed frozen.
Daphné and Lola came up to them, and the latter looked up at Eliott, her eyes full of… everything; apology, embarrassment, pain, fear, confusion, relief and all of it made Eliott’s mouth dry.
“I’m sorry,” she cried quietly, tears falling down her face and immediately Eliott pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
Lucas held Daphné as all the energy seemed to be drained from her, her face slack and pale from a night none of them would forget anytime soon. He muttered something into her ear, to which she nodded. Lola looked up and over at the two, before lowering her gaze. Lucas reached out and ran his hand over her hair, a gesture that meant more to her than Eliott believed his boyfriend knew.
The cab ride was rigidly silent as they drove back to the Lecomte house, with Lola between Daphné and Eliott as if she might vanish into thin air if they let her go. When they stepped out onto the street in front of the apartment complex, Lola dropped Daphné's hand.
“Do I have to go up right away?” Daphné looked between her sister and Eliott, then a flicker over to Lucas before taking a shaky breath.
“Come on, Daphy,” Lucas spoke calmly, wrapping his arm around her. “Let’s make you some tea.” Lucas locked eyes with Eliott for a moment, a silent agreement between the two; an acknowledgement of trust.
As the two retreated inside, Eliott and Lola took up a spot on the stoop, as Parisians walked the streets unaware of what they had been going through all night.
“I’m--”
“Please, Lola,” Eliott cut her off with a quiet voice. “Don’t apologize.”
“I’ve messed everything up,” she muttered, her fingers laced together in her lap.
“You haven’t,” he disagreed, shaking his head. She looked to him, her lips set in a line, her jaw tight.
“I hurt you and Lucas.” The confession made his stomach sink, an awful churning sensation that made him want to cry. He didn’t know what to say.
“You can’t be blaming yourself for things that I did. I should have known better.”
“But I knew you couldn’t drink and I still made you do it.”
“You didn’t pour beer and vodka down my throat, Lola,” he argued, with restraint. She turned her eyes away, looking out onto the road in front of them.
“I still said things… stupid things that hurt you.”
“Yes, but I believed them when I shouldn’t have,” Eliott sighed, running a hand over his face. “We both made mistakes Lola, but that doesn’t make you a horrible person.”
“Lucas hates me.”
“Lucas doesn’t hate you,” he replied with a huff. “He’s been worried all night, just as much as I have. He’s kept the level head to make sure we didn’t all freak out, and he’s the one who talked to Daphné, helping her think about where you could have been. You care too much about what people think of you.”
“I keep hearing that,” she said drily but not without a small shadow of distant appreciation behind her expression.
“I tried too hard to fix you,” Eliott began slowly. “And it pushed you further.” She didn’t reply. “And if anyone should’ve known that you couldn’t be healed so easily, it should’ve been me.”
“I put too much pressure on you-- you’re not a therapist or my phycologist,” she admitted. “I… I need to be more of a friend.”
“I think we both do,” Eliott nodded. “Less doctor and patient and more ‘friend who needs help sometimes’ and ‘other friend who needs help sometimes’.” She snorted at this, the first moment of levity of the night--well, early morning. In the moment of silence that followed, he stood up in a stretch offering a hand to her. She took it, rising to her feet, and then reached for the door.
“I didn’t mean to drag you down with me,” she promised, opening it.
“And I didn’t mean to go down so willingly.”
…
“You were strong tonight,” Lucas mumbled proudly, running his fingers through Eliott’s hair as the older boy pressed himself to his boyfriend under the blanket.
“I feel sick,” Eliott told him. He could hear Lucas steady heartbeat, the sound calming his own racing thoughts.
“It was a lot to go through,” he agreed, holding him tightly. “I didn’t expect you to walk away unphased.”
“I think I’m slipping.”
“Minute by minute, my love,” Lucas whispered into his hair.
“I was getting better.”
“You can’t think about it like moving backwards,” he explained softly. “You just have to move forwards.”
“This has been an awful year,” Eliott said. Lucas placed a kiss on the top of his head, before resuming to play with strands of his hair.
“Not entirely. For this minute let's just think about all the good things.”
“You start.”
“Okay, Lola’s safe, you’re safe, and I’m safe. There, that’s three things. Your turn.”
“We moved in together.”
“You haven’t burned our kitchen down and we’ve had a surprisingly low number of food poisoning cases.” Eliott laughed at the comment, far from feeling better but now slightly lighter.
“I’m tired,” he spoke with a yawn.
“Go to sleep,” Lucas hummed. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
“I love you.”
“Me too,” Lucas replied with a breath. “Just remember that and we'll be perfectly fine.”