#ot3l

[thekracken]

IM GOING TO JUMP

[thekracken]

please,, how do they find out hardison is immortal?

continuation of this post! i used the rundown job as a basis for this BUT i still hope you enjoy it :)

he tried to send them home. he tried, but they’re too stubborn, too filled to the brim with loyalty (loyalty eliot doesn’t know how he could possible deserve, but is grateful for nonetheless) and when he watches them dig their metaphorical feet into the sand, he knows he can’t do anything but accept their help. 

he tries not to think of the stakes on this one, but this is so much larger than anything he’d run with nate and sophie. this is- this is terrorism and eliot can’t stop thinking about how very human the people in front of him are. 

when hardison tracks down an address, and both hardison and parker turn to leave, eliot feels something tight constrict in his chest. 

“you’re staying here,” he says, voice tight and firm. there’s no excuse for the anxiety making his blood run cold; they’ve dealt with murderers, with kidnappers, with sociopaths, with warlords and crime bosses. they’ve been threatened at gun point, disarmed bombs, raced into danger without caring about the consequences - all because the world could be better and they wanted to make it so. but through all of that, eliot knew he could count on nate and sophie to help keep them safe if he couldn’t. and he’s alone now, with them, and he can’t stop thinking about how he’s made them both a promise to keep them safe. 

above all else, he has to try to honor that promise. 

so he plays dirty, when they start to protest, and stops them in their track with a soft, “please, just wait for me here.” he feels a little guilty for it, but that’s absolved when they physically slouch and nod. 

“i’ll be back,” he promises and slips out of the van before they can reply. 

-

he doesn’t feel the phone in his pocket vibrate while he’s working the man for information, while he learns the where and the when and the why. 

it’s not until he’s finished, when he’s leaving the small house after cuffing the man to his own stair rails, that he pulls out his phone, intent to call hardison and parker and tell them where to meet him, that he sees he’d missed their call. 

he’d missed their call three times. they left a voicemail and two text messages.

found bomb. then, can’t wait. meet us. there’s a string of coordinates and eliot’s heart falls to his feet. 

-

there’s not enough time. 

he tries calling them, but the phone goes straight to voicemail and he knows they’re already there, in the tunneled underground searching for a bomb that’s set to explode far too quickly. 

he races across town, first in a car and when he hits his first stretch of congestion, he abandons it on the side of the road and runs. 

one of them must’ve called in the threat, because the streets are being blocked off as several blocks are being fully evacuated. there’s a fiercely guarded line, that’s pushing gawking onlookers back further and further and eliot fights to the front and tries to look around the cops blocking entry. 

he knows it’s risky, but leaving them down there is not an option. 

he looks for a way around and spots a delivery truck nearby, climbs to the top of it and before anyone notices, jumps behind the law enforcement line. his ankle snaps at the landing, but he can’t afford to hesitate. he charges towards the building, ignoring the screams and shouts behind him. he hears the crack of a gun going off and feels the built bite into his back. he flinches but keeps running. 

more hit him as he enters the building and he allows himself a second to fall to his knees as his back heats in healing, before pushing himself back to his feet and running to the stairwell. 

it feels like it takes years to get to the tunnels under the building. he’s suddenly blinded as he leaves the florescent-lighted staircase and enters the dim tunnel and he breathes heavily. 

“parker!” he screams. “hardison!”  

“eliot?” hardison’s voice echos from his left and he turns, running towards the sound. 

“get out! get out now!” 

he can see them more clearly now. they’re behind an abandoned subway car. they look uninjured, but panicked. hardison takes a step towards him, but he’s looking back at parker- parker who’s kneeling beside the bomb like she might know how to stop it; like it’s a safe she’d spent her whole life cracking. 

“go!” eliot shouts. begs. he’s getting closer to them now, he just needs a few more minutes to reach them and push them a safe distance away. 

he’s close. he can do it. he pushes himself to go faster. 

and then suddenly, parker jumps to her feet and shoves hardison, pushing him towards eliot. hardison stumbles and like deja vu, eliot sees the first time hardison stumbled when a bomb was going off. back then, eliot had been beside him, had been able to grab him and jerk him back to his feet, push him to safety. eliot’s hands burn with the memory and his own feet become clumsy. 

he’s out of time. 

parker throws her body over hardison’s as if that alone would protect him from the flames that suddenly explode outward. 

eliot throws himself at them, is close enough to grab hardison’s wrist, when fire burns through him. 

-

sophie is ghosting down the hall with sterling at her side when she overhears two agents talking together. 

“something exploded in dc,” she hears and her heart immediately is thundering in her throat. she jerks to a stop and ignores sterlings startled, “what are you doing?”

“when?” sophie asks, grabbing the phone out of her purse and holding it tight in her grip. 

“just now,” the agent says, eyes wide. “they think it’s a terrorist attack.” 

“what?” sterling says sharply and sophie grabs the phone and puts it to her ear. 

“nate,” she says, breathlessly and she hears him take a sharp breath. 

“i’m coming to you,” he says and sophie nods, but moves towards the direction he’ll be coming from anyways. she can hear sterling talking to her, but she can’t focus long enough to understand him. her thoughts spin and race in her head and only begin to settle when she sees nate coming down the hall. 

“we have to get to dc, now,” nate says, hands going to sophie’s back as he looks intensely at sterling. 

“we can’t just get to dc,” sterling says, and she can tell his mind is racing as fast as nate’s does, can tell the moment he realizes why they have to get there. 

“the others...” he says slowly and nate nods. sophie mirrors him, feeling like a vice has closed around her throat. 

“i’ll... i’ll see what i can do,” he says with a heavy sigh and pulls out his cellphone. 

-

eliot lives with a gasp, choking on dust and blood catching in his throat. he rolls to the side and immediately regrets it; his freshly made insides pull and pinch at the weak muscle and he tries not to groan. he breathes shallowly, despite the pain, trying to take in as little dust as he can while the previous events slot themselves into place in his mind. 

his new heart cracks and shatters. he feels bile burn at his partially healed throat and a sob catches in his chest. 

he curls tighter in on himself and tries not to think of the two people he loves most in the world in ash behind him. 

-

sterling gets them to dc. 

sophie doesn’t know how, and she doesn’t particularly care. all she can think about are the three members of the team that aren’t returning her phone calls. 

they follow sterling tightly through the throngs of people and she wraps nate’s suit jacket around her shoulders, feeling exposed like a nerve. sterling flashes his badge and gets them entrance to the front of the perimeter. nate’s eyes are wild, red rimmed despite not shedding tears, and his breathing is erratic, coming out in sudden quick gasps. 

sophie reaches out to him and grips his hand tightly as they peer over sterling’s shoulder to watch surveillance footage of eliot racing to a building that’s nothing but a smoking mess of debris. 

“nate,” she says at the same time he lets out a strangled noise, low in his throat. 

“hey!” sterling shouts, catching the nearest agent that isn’t rushing around with duties. “this man. did he come out?” 

“i-” the agent says hesitantly, looking at sterling and then around for help. 

“yes or no,” sterling warns and the agent shakes their head. 

“no, no we haven’t seen any proof he left.” 

sterling pales and nate’s grip on her hand has turned almost painful. her own fingers dig nails into his flesh. 

“he... he wouldn’t have gone down there if... if they weren’t...” 

sophie chokes on her sob. 

-

eliot lets himself scream in agony, growling into his knees as grief saps all the energy out of him. 

he should have been faster. smarter. should have had his phone on. should have sent them home when this whole mess started. 

gravel rains down on him, echoing against the concrete below him, as the crumpled building settles above him. he tucks his head firmly against his knees and for the first time in years, prays for an end. 

-

“we have to get down there,” nate says distantly, eyes far away. he takes a step back and sophie lets go of his arm. nate meets her eyes. “we have to get down there.” 

he’s right; they can’t leave eliot to dig his way out, not after having just seen-- 

“we can’t just go down there,” sterling says, but not nearly as exasperated or sharp as he usually is. “the... the tunnel will have collapsed--” 

“james,” nate says, voice suddenly strong and firm, but his eyes are still wild. “i need you to trust me. he’s down there and we have to get him first.” 

sterling’s face crumples as he looks at nate but he sighs and nods. “i’ll see what i can do.” 

- 

if they go out far enough, the police presence is less and sterling’s able to get them into the tunnels with a flash of his badge and promise of reprimand if he isn’t obeyed. 

the lights dim and they use the flashlights on their cellphones to create a narrow path of light. sophie walks next to nate, holding his hands tight in her grip and she feels like her heart is going to burst out of her chest with every step they take. sterling walks quietly behind them and some part of her aches at feeling supported by that action. 

she likes sterling, they all-- they both do. but some part of her knows this will have to be the last time she sees him. she knows once they get eliot and bury whatever’s left of hardison and parker, they’ll disappear; vanish to lick their wounds and let the universe know they get it, they understand: the mortals are not for them to play with. 

they reach the edge of the cave in and nate walks forward and starts pulling at the debris. sterling, after pausing a moment and shrugging off his jacket, joins him. 

- 

eliot’s laying on his side with his eyes closed, trying to muster up the energy to stand and find a way out, when he hears it. 

a shuttering gasp of a breath. 

his eyes snap open and he twists, his back cracking as his bones shift and relax from the position he’d forced them in. he pushes to his knees and holds his breath. 

hardison’s finger twitches. 

“hardison?” he asks in a raspy breath. his hand clenches tight. eliot scrambles over to him, all thought evaporating his mind. his knees bleed and bruise as he reaches with shaky hands for hardison. he touches his fist and lets out a shaky laugh as hardison responds to the touch. 

“el?” he hears and looks up, looks at parker’s face scrunched in pain. 

confusion and relief flood through him so sharply he feels dizzy with it. he collapses, catching himself on his elbows. 

“you’re alive,” he says and feels tears burn his eyes and fall down his face.  “you’re alive.” 

with a trembling hand, he rests his palm against parker’s dirty cheek and does the same to the top of hardison’s head. hardison shifts and they make twin noises of pain that laces through eliot. 

“it’s okay,” eliot says quickly, soothingly. “stay still, i promise it’ll feel better soon.” 

eliot will never live long enough to repay the universe for this. 

- 

sophie sinks to her knees as they dig and her chest feels split open. it feels like it takes centuries before they make entrance to the little pocket of dust and smoke and the smell of charred flesh and flames rush to escape past them. 

“eliot?” nate calls out and sterling looks over at him as sophie gets to her feet. 

“nate,” eliot replies and there’s a hysterical tone to his voice. sophie rushes forward, ignoring sterling’s questions. 

“soph,” eliot says breathlessly from where he’s kneeled on the ground next to the others. tears are already flowing down her face and she tries to catch her breath when she gets to his side. 

“what’s going on?” nate asks from behind her, voice rough in confusion. 

sophie makes a noise of her own confusion when she looks behind her at him, but then follows his gaze to eliot... eliot who isn’t crying, who looks almost... relieved. without meaning to, sophie’s eyes dart down to where his hands are and sees parker’s face, screwed up in pain and notices hardison’s hand tight around eliot’s. 

“how...?” sophie trails off and eliot shakes his head and shrugs, a helpless smile on his face. 

“i don’t know,” he says, voice light and disbelieving. “and i don’t care.” 

sophie reaches out and strokes hardison’s arm, runs her hand through parker’s hair. they both relax at her touch and she feels her own disbelieving laughter escape her in a huff. 

“what is going on?” sterling demands, confused and angry and sophie looks over as nate smiles, looks upward and then over to his friend. 

“i promise i’ll explain everything, james, just give us this,” nate says and he meets sophie’s gaze with a relieved smile.

[thekracken]

we agreed we all change. better or worse, we change together

[thekracken]

They work alone. They always work alone. There’s no exceptions. 

[thekracken]

ot3 parallels: face holding 

[thekracken]

[thekracken]

part 1 of a little leverage ficlet that @spyderinej and @chadlesbianjasontodd seemed interested in lmao  if i get the whole thing finished ill post it to ao3 but for now, enjoy number one

I.

They’re finishing up a mission, four hours south of Boston. It was a simple mission, as simple as their missions can get, but a hard one nonetheless. Eliot had taken a few hard hits and he’s sure he’ll have an impressive spread of bruising on his torso tomorrow. Sophie had been captured with Nate, but Parker has taken the lion’s share of danger.

Within two days, she had been chased, shot at, and taken an unharnessed climb up a nine-story building to save the mission almost single-handedly.

Eliot doesn’t wait for the rest of the team before heading back to the van. His face is already beginning to swell and he doesn’t feel the need to gloat like the others do; he doesn’t need the satisfaction of seeing the mark’s face, he knows what he’s doing is making a difference and that’s enough.

So, it’s a surprise to find he’s not the first one back at the van. He slides the side door open and pauses when he sees Parker already sitting in the middle bench. She grins at him, showing too many teeth and looking near feral. The tremors that run through her body aren’t easily hid and Eliot identifies the issue: adrenaline rush.

“You gonna stand there all day?” Parker asks and the tremors that run through her body take hold of her voice too.

Eliot climbs in the seat beside her and pulls the door shut.

“How're you doing?” he asks, carefully watching the way she seems to vibrate in her seat. Parker scrunches her nose at the question and even though Eliot’s sure she knows the crash is coming, her eyes are bright and excited.

“Oh, I’m great,” she says with a cocked brow. “How’re you doing?”

“Oh, I’m great,” he mimics and she snorts a laugh. That brings a genuine grin to Eliot’s face and despite the pain, Eliot can’t force his face neutral.

He’s aware they’re both lying, but Parker has Eliot’s respect instinctively, in the way the others don’t quite yet. He understands Parker and he thinks, if he lets her, she could understand him.

He’s prepared to be cheesy, to give her the acknowledgment that without her this case would’ve failed, but before he can get the words ordered in his mind, the backdoors open.

Bright light filters into the semi-dark of the van and Eliot squints, heart pounding and fists clenching on instinct.

“Oh, damn,” Hardison says, letting out a low whistle which settles Eliot’s racing heart. “What in the hell happened to you?”

Hardison climbs in through the back and settles in the final row of seating. Eliot narrows his eyes in lieu of rolling them and shifts to face the front.

“What do you think happened,” he says, well aware Hardison heard every hit through the comms. In his peripherals, he can see Sophie approaching the passenger seat and he sees Nate passing Parker’s window towards the driver’s seat.

Hardison leans forward as the car starts, long arms extending over the seat and tapping Eliot on the shoulder with the backside of his hand. His other hand rests against Parker’s shoulder- effectively placing himself between them.

“Ya know,” he starts, grin in his voice, but then pauses and looks over at Parker. “You’re shaking.”

At Hardison’s tone shift, Nate’s eyes flicker to the rearview mirror and Sophie looks over in her seat.

“I’m fine,” Parker says, waving off the concern, but she is shaking, harder than before. She’s crashing and Eliot wishes they had a blanket or something for her to hold on to. He’s tempted to shrug off his jacket and drape it over her, but he knows she’d like that as much as he would. The only thing he can do to help is back her up and bring the attention off her. She’s a big girl, she’s taken care of herself for a long time; if she needs help she’ll ask.

“Hardison,” Eliot says, softly but firmly. It gets his attention and Hardison’s dark eyes are on him. “She’s fine.” He tries to put as much sincerity into the statement as he could. It seems to work, because Hardison gives her one last look before retreating to the backseat. Parker gives him a grateful smile and something in him wants to say something soothing like, get some sleep, Parker. He bites back the urge and clenches his teeth; this team is making him soft.

But, like she could hear him anyway, Parker slouches in her seat and leans her head against the window. The muscles in her jaw are tight and Eliot’s sure she’s fighting back nausea or a headache, or both, though he hopes for her sake it’s not both.

Eliot stops watching over her, almost certain Hardison is, and closes his own eyes. His ribs ache and he focuses on taking easy, shallow breaths.

The van rumbles soothingly underneath him and he can hear Sophie and Nate talking softly to each other. He lets himself relax; he’s safe, here, in this smelly van with four other thieves. A year ago, hell, six months ago he never would’ve believed that.

He lets the sounds of their conversation flow over him as he drifts. He can hear the sound of Hardison fingers moving across his keyboard, a gentle tapping that usually would irk him, but today just serves as another reminder that someone’s watching his back.

He doesn’t know how long he spends half-asleep, but he’s startled awake by the van jostling sharply. Poor roadwork causes the van to shake and bounce its way down the road and it takes a moment for Eliot to catch his bearings.

Parker’s head rocks from side to side before it slides down the seat and rests on his shoulder. Eliot stiffens and pinches his lips together; a hand raises to cup Parker’s head to keep it from bouncing as best as he can.

“Hey,” he growls towards Nate. Sophie is the one to acknowledge him, but only to smile fondly at them before returning her gaze out the window.

The van stops bouncing suddenly, and without the constant jostling, Eliot’s too aware of the weight of Parker against him.

Tension pulls his shoulders tight and straightens his spine.

Instinct and habit almost have him launching Parker across the van. He restrains, but only just.

“Hey, man, relax. It’s a girl, not a bomb.” Hardison’s grinning; Eliot’s positive he is and the knowledge makes him want to tackle Hardison to the ground and teach him some respect.

“It’s not a girl,” Eliot replies, looking at the blonde hair spilling over his shoulder. “It’s... Parker.”

He knows Hardison is smirking, can practically feel the humor radiating from behind him. He frowns, a wrinkle forming deep between his eyebrows and something in his chest tightens. The urge to shove her off and remove himself from this situation is strong, but knowing it’s Parker is stronger. Eliot shifts, wincing as the movement tweaks the aches in his ribs, and lifts Parker’s head off his shoulder slowly. With a gentleness he uses exclusively with bombs, he maneuvers her off and away from him, guiding her until she’s leaned against the window.

He can see Hardison watching them from the corner of his eye and he wants to be annoyed at the surprise he sees there, but instead he withdraws carefully from Parker and settles back down on the other end of the row. Holding Parker the way he did, at the weird angle he did, put a lot more strain on his ribs than he wanted and white flashes dance across his vision for a moment. He presses his hand to his side and breathes slowly until the pain is back to being manageable, but he keeps his eyes closed.

Hardison has gone back to tapping at his keyboard. Sophie is singing along to the low radio under her breath. Parker shifts in her sleep to get more comfortable. Eliot keeps his eyes closed and breathes.

[thekracken]

me you hardison, pfft, that’s fine that’s working