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#eliot + ot3: I’ll be good

vinelark · 4 months

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do you have any whumpy fic recs (ideally romance, but gen would do in a pinch)? Open to any fandoms. I feel like I used to see them a lot more, but they are harder to find these days. Bbts really hits the spot tho btw haha.

ANY fandoms? oh boy do i.

Hotel Heart by Laughsalot3412 (and its sequel Safe as Houses): not quite romance but not NOT romance ot3 leverage psychics au where eliot is a hitman who used to be under the control of a horrible empath who left him with major mental scars and huge trust issues. he reluctantly ends up protecting another empath (hardison) and thief (parker) and sloooowly starts to work through the aforementioned trauma while they take down the aforementioned evil empath together. excellent series with excellent pangy plot. also i knew nothing about leverage when i first read it and it’s what got me to watch the show.

Hold my Eyes to the Sky by myrmidryad: an enjoltaire/les mis longfic set in a 1970s(?) wizarding au in which grantaire is a very sad and lonely werewolf and the idealistic activist he’s hopelessly in love with just got himself turned as well, and grantaire has to help him navigate the changes while dealing with his own self-worth issues and tragic backstory. you want whump? look no further.

Occultation by Geese_in_flight & pineapplesquid: a novel-length au of the book Winter’s Orbit, in which the main difference is that kiem, not jainan, is the one dealing with a previous, horrible arranged marriage. somehow this simple switch brings so much fresh potential to the characters (i loved seeing how this played into kiem’s self-worth issues, and also loved this exploration of what jainan’s character would be like if he had been able to flourish the last few years), with a whole new set of pangs. i recommend both the book and the fic!

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie: a post-cql wangxian getting together fic with the classic amounts of yiqie pain & pining & h/c & devastatingly beautiful writing about the devastatingly beautiful experience of being in love. also blood. honestly most fics by yiqie probably fulfill this request (are you into vashwood, perhaps?)

Morning, keep the streets empty for me by feyburner: a wangxian modern au oneshot with self-sacrificing wei ying getting into trouble and landing himself in the hospital while pining very very hard for his cultivation partner. i’m reccing this one out of all feyburner fics because it has the obvious physical hurt but fey is so good at weaving pangs into fic that tbh there’s emotional whump to be found in most of them. also, god-tier writing in general.

the kite string and the anchor rope by fleurdeliser: a wangxian canon-divergence au that falls into the sickfic whump subgenre. the pangs! wangxian’s love for each other and for a-yuan and the way wwx’s desperation and powerlessness in the face of a sick child (and his own illness) clash with how the world perceives him at the time is so 🤌🤌. this is saved in my h/c favs folder for a reason.

The Long Way Home by itsnatalie: extremely whumpy batfam tim & jason fic, which i’ve definitely rec’d here before but if i’m reccing whumpy longfics it HAS to be on the list. good god this fic is a masterpiece, both for the angst and for the absolute beautiful worldbuilding/navigation of its horror tropes.

and since you like bbts, i’ll also self-rec a few of my older fics! i think you’d probably enjoy this river runs to you, a wangxian/mdzs modern cultivation longfic feat. (sort of) identity shenanigans, angsty backstories, self-worth issues, and the main character getting all manner of hurt. also: you’re the trouble that i always find, a wenzhou/shl dreamsharing/amnesia/sort-of-timeloop fic in which the main character is supposed to dream about killing his love interest but said love interest keeps dreamcrashing to change the plot.

this reclist could’ve been dozens of fics long tbh. i live for The Pangs which usually go hand in hand with good whump, and seek those fics out whenever possible, so as always this is a super incomplete reclist! also i welcome any and all recs in return.

#fic rec #asks #a buffet table of fandoms #i KNOW i’m forgetting like 75% of my favs here #my organization system exists in my heart #anyway these span years and years of reading and i will probably come back to add to this post #the whump in wangxian fandom alone could power a small city for a week #also i wish i could manifest the 500 incredible pangy fics my friends and i have brainstormed in the DMs because whew. the angst #i forget they don’t exist outside of our brains because they’re part of my own mental canon

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griseldagimpel · 2 years

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On Extra-textual Authorial Statements & Queer-baiting

In the series finale of Leverage, Eliot corrects Nate that there was something he needed in his life and then turns and looks pointedly at Hardison and Parker, who beam back at him. The newly engaged Sophie tells him to take care of them, and Eliot, winking at her, promises to do so until his dying day, echoing traditional wedding vows.

While none of the characters come out and say, “This is the start of a poly relationship”, after all the built up, well, that sure seems like the start of a poly relationship. How exactly is one supposed to interpret that, if not as the start of a poly relationship?

And this interpretation was backed up by the word of John Rogers, show runner and writer of the episode. He stated on Twitter - repeatedly and unprompted! - that he had made the OT3 canon in the series finale. He even used the term OT3, a long-established bit of fan terminology that means One True Threesome. And I’ve followed John Rogers on Twitter long enough to know that, yes, the man knows his fan terminology.

But no. Come Leverage: Redemption, that’s all out the window, and we get a subplot about how Eliot needs to find someone so that he can have a relationship like Hardison and Parker have with each other. And this happened even as Leverage: Redemption had other queer characters and queer relationships.

Which is why, when it comes to possible future queer relationships on What We Do in the Shadows or Good Omens or Our Flag Means Death (which I need to watch), I’ll believe it when I see it. I don’t care what statements the show runners make. Until it’s actually in the show and so blindingly obvious that even the most oblivious-to-queer-stuff straight person sees it, I’m not getting my hopes up.

And I hate that show runner queer-baiting has made me this cynical.

#queer stuff #vent post #Leverage #leverage: redemption #good omens #what we do in the shadows #our flag means death

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bethanyactually · 2 years

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Hardison, from Leverage, for the character ask 🙂

I just realized I didn't answer this one yet! I think I answered it in my head.

do I like them:

5 good qualities: he's self-confident, he's kind, he's hilarious, the man can dress himself, he is an enthusiastic and unapologetic geek, did I mention he is KIND.

3 bad qualities: Sometimes that confidence makes him a little incautious, he drinks an awful lot of orange soda (which I hate), he got buried alive in a coffin that one time and scared everyone to death (I'm sure he has more actual bad qualities but these are the ones that stand out to me)

favourite episode/etc: I mean...The Scheherazade Job is the obvious answer, right? He's also incredibly good in The Iceman Job even though he fucks up a little bit. And honestly, I have a soft spot for grown-up Hardison in The Too Many Rembrandts Job. "This isn't the win. This is the start, Harry."

brotp: Hardison & Eliot.

ot3: I don’t have one. (Nope, I don't ship the OT3. I'm happy it's practically canon for those who do, I just don't.)

notp: Uh...Hardison/Sophie, I guess? Since she's basically his crime mom, that would be weird.

best quote: I'VE HACKED HISTORY, PEOPLE.

headcanon: I think Hardison takes lots of weird selfies and sends them to the group text.

Thanks, @albatrossisland! :)

give me a character and I’ll answer

#albatrossisland #meme #alec hardison #leverage #character questions meme #I only got three asks for this and one was for a character/show I don't remember well enough to do it for #have I been out of the ask meme game too long??

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idiopath-fic-smile · 3 years

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Leverage ot3 fic bit

another installment in the “donate at least $25 to a BLM-related cause and i’ll write at least 250 words of fic” series, which is still ongoing!

In retrospect, brunch was a mistake. Hardison was a grown-ass man; he could admit when he was wrong, on the (very) rare occasion it happened.

It had seemed like a good call, was the thing. Eliot was high-strung at the best of times. He could give a cup of coffee the jitters, as Nana would say. What better way to lower Eliot's guard a little than a gourmet outing where they could ply him with whatever esoteric food was trending on Instagram, Parker could eat something that wasn't repped by a grinning cartoon character with cold dead eyes and no pants, and the combined team of Parker and Hardison could down just enough mimosas to stumble onto the words for what Eliot meant to them, romantically speaking? (But not so many mimosas that should the touchy-feeliness get physical, anyone would feel gross about consent. Hardison had done his research.)

Grass + Spoon had good ratings online, their website was not a cringe-factory of early-aughts design choices, and a quick look at the blueprints showed that if Eliot did, in fact, reject them, Parker could easily hide from her feelings in the vents.

Simple. Straightforward. A slam dunk.

The fact that sports analogies had started to bleed into his vocabulary would’ve given Hardison-from-five-years-ago an aneurysm. But Hardison-from-five-years-ago’d had been blind to a lot. At least he had always appreciated Parker, had seen from the beginning that she was so much more than just a hot, dubiously sane cat burglar. He couldn’t say the same for Eliot, who had initially tripped off Hardison’s bully sensors, the middle school synapses in his brain that were on constant high alert for guys who could--and would--break Hardison in half for fun.

It had taken months to realize that Hardison was just comically wrong. Eliot, who taught kids self-defense as almost a reflex and cradled puppies gently in his big, scarred hands. Eliot, who handled a knife like an extension of his body but mostly used that blade to make ceviche. Eliot, who would snap a guy’s neck without a second thought if it meant keeping Parker--or Hardison, but more importantly Parker--safe.

Eliot, who was currently staring at the menu like it had slapped his mom.

“What?” said Hardison.

“There’s a hamburger on here,” said Eliot. “A hamburger.”

“It’s got an egg on it,” Parker observed. “That’s brunchy, right?”

“Brunch requires a careful balance of flavors and components,” Eliot said. “You can’t just crack an egg on dinner and call it brunch.”

Parker, who considered Frosted Flakes a pizza topping, nodded distractedly.

“We could always open the brewpub earlier on the weekends, if you wanna show them how it’s done,” Hardison offered.

Eliot narrowed his eyes.

Hardison widened his.

“You’re plotting something,” said Eliot. “I’ve seen that look before, and you ain’t as subtle as you think.”

Well. He wasn’t wrong. But blurting out any version of “Me and Parker wanna date you; how do you feel about throuples?” felt a little too on the nose. It was like trying to explain an inside joke to someone who hadn’t been in the room--you had to ease in, you had to give context, or Eliot would be out of there like a shot.

“These things must be done delicately” to quote--well, the Wicked Witch of the West. (Wizard of Oz was probably not geeky enough to neutralize the basketball metaphor earlier. Not that Hardison was keeping score, but.)

Parker’s gaze had slid beyond them, slightly to the side.

“What?” said Hardison.

“The waitress is crying,” she said.

More was definitely coming. Hardison and Eliot waited. “I think this place is mistreating their staff,” said Parker slowly. “Shorting their wages, stuff like that.”

Hardison and Eliot didn’t press her. Parker knew what she was doing; if she saw enough clues to paint a picture, that was good enough for them.

Eliot put down the menu and leaned in. “What’s our move?” he said quietly.

Hardison looked between the two of them, their faces intent, wheels already spinning. God, he loved them. Talking about feelings could wait.

Let’s go steal a brunch spot.

#leverage

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thieves-never-say-die · 3 years

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Is redemption as good as the original? Is the OT3 safe?

Yes! I personally think Redemption is just as good as the original. The team is back together and the chemistry between them is great as ever. The additions of Breanna and Harry bring a new aspect to the team, and I love their interactions with the original crew. I think they handled Nate leaving well, and gave it the appropriate about of discussion and screen time without talking about Too Much. And even though Hardison could only be in the first two episodes they gave him a good reason to leave and it didn’t feel out of character.

The episodes themselves are still fun to watch, it’s always satisfying to see the team take town corporate assholes, and the cons are still ridiculously over the top and I love them.

As for the ot3, there are a few hints towards it, but it’s not majorly mentioned or expanded upon. I’ll put it this way: someone who already ships the ot3 and is looking for confirmation will find lines and actions to support that, but to a new viewer it is not obvious.

Still, overall it’s just as good as the original, with a good balance of lighthearted comedy and intense moments. Eliot still beats people up, Parker steals thing a in increasingly impossible ways, Hardison (in the first two episodes) has amazing banter with everyone and they handled the actors need to leave really well, Sophie is still an amazing grifter and she and Parker both work to fill the mastermind role. Breanna brings a new view to things (her speech in the third episode will hit hard to everyone in Gen Z) and has such a childlike enjoyment of stuff which I love. Harry’s storyline is worked with without becoming overbearing, they give him an appropriate amount of storyline without overshadowing the original crew.

#leverage #redemption #redemption spoilers #leverage redemption #eliot spencer #parker #alec hardison #sophie devereaux #breanna casey #harry wilson #ask #anon #meta #m speaks

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grasslandgirl · 3 years

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leverage ot3 sentence prompt idea! "there were some mornings where eliot woke up and immediately knew he was going to get roped into some bullshit."

(apparently im physically incapable of only writing five sentences. oops again! <3 ty for the prompt)

There were some mornings where Eliot woke up and immediately knew he was going to get roped into some bullshit. He’d roll over, half-awake and seeking out warmth, and squint against the early morning light to see Parker already grinning at him. Or the mornings where he’d wake up to Hardison never having gone to bed in the first place, and Eliot had to stomp into Hardison’s cave of screens and drag him away from whatever internet pit he’d dug himself into. Just because Eliot could get by with 90 minutes of sleep every night, didn’t mean that Hardison could- or should. (They were all getting better at that- the whole sleeping and taking care of themselves thing- something Eliot didn’t let himself examine the reasonings for too closely.)

But this morning, Eliot woke up alone. Which still happened, sometimes, when Parker felt too antsy to sleep in a communal bed, or when one or both of them had to prep for a con in the early morning, or when Eliot fell asleep on the couch. But it didn’t happen often. He reached out and swiped a hand across the mattress, the blanket that had been carefully tucked around him while he slept. The linens were long since cold, which was enough for Eliot to sit up, all residual sleep wiped from in by the clanging of mental alarm bells. He sat, perfectly still and silent, and listened to the apartment.

There, a quiet clang, followed by a stifled laugh and something whispered that Eliot couldn’t make out. The tension seeped out of his bones as quick as it had come, followed almost as fast by the familiar disquieted fondness he felt everytime Parker and Hardison were in the kitchen.

He rolled out of bed and walked towards the kitchen, pulling his hair back in one of Parker’s abandoned hair ties. Parker and Hardison were, as expected, in the kitchen. Covered in flour. Eliot stopped by the edge of the counter, eyeing where the flour had spilled onto the floor and across the counter. “Good morning?”

Hardison spun around abruptly, a smear of flour across his face and his eyes wide and sheepish, and Parker popped up on her toes at his shoulder, peering at Eliot with an unrepentant grin on her face. “Uh… pancakes?” Hardison said, as much as explanation as it was a cry for help, given the slow drip of what was probably supposed to be batter off the counter and onto the floor.

“Chocolate chips,” Parker added helpfully- he wasn’t sure whether she was explaining the reasoning behind wanting pancakes, giving context for the bomb of batter that had gone off, or asking him to put chocolate in her pancakes when he inevitably made breakfast for them.

Eliot rolled his eyes, scowled at the mess in their kitchen. “Fine. But you’re cleaning up this mess.” Maybe it was too early in the morning for this kind of bullshit- but it was Eliot’s bullshit, and he found he didn’t really mind.

send me a sentence prompt and i'll write five (or probably more) sentences for it!!

#i caaaaaaaaare themmmm #aka. how many fics can sav write where eliot shows parker and hardison how to cook??#leverage #parker x hardison x eliot #fic #prompt #asks

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party-gilmore · 3 years

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I'm thinking about the motifs of "Just one job." "Just this one." "...we finish this one." throughout the entirety of Leverage, and like. I'm thinking bout certain people using that little self-told fairytale not just on a professional level, but on a personal one too? To sort of... give them permission to do something stupid because it'll only be the one time, right? Plausible deniability, 'oh, don't worry, this won't become A Thing, I'll only do it this once,' even though in the back of their head they hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like Nate Ford cackling madly in the distance?

Anyways what I mean is hey you think whenever Eliot starting working his way into the OT3 proper (or, let's be real here, when Parker and Hardison finally make progress on coaxing him into being comfortable with it) he's like.

He's leaning in for that first nerve-wracking kiss with one of them, and he's telling himself '...just the one. So I know what it feels like to have his lips against mine and can finally stop obsessing over it and focus on the job.'

But then of course, it's not fair if he only kisses ONE of them, so one turns into two. turns into three. turns into ten.

turns into stumbling into a luxury hotel's elevator a couple months later, one of them hanging off each arm and high on victory and a little bit of tequila maybe and they're still in the sequined and shiny clothes from stealing the vegas floorshow they'd needed to complete the con and plastic beads are draped any where they'll stay across the three of them and they're tugging him into the room now and Parkers lipstick is smudged and he doesn't know if Hardison did it or if he's the one who did it but it doesn't really matter because it looks good on her like this and they're pulling him into the stupid over decorated bedroom with the rose petals and the ceiling mirror and he tells himself '...just this one. just one night. to... get it out of my system.'

but then of course, it's hard to remember the details of such delightful, over-excitable, tipsy fumblings of people who've finally been given permission to touch. So if he wants it out of his system properly, well he HAS to do it again sober, so one turns into two. turns into three. turns into ten. turns into

#no spoilers #leverage ot3 #leverage

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schrijverr · 3 years

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Hold Me Together

Chapter 2 out of 4

Eliot gets hurt on a job and then sick. Hardison and Parker waste no time to jump in to care for him and it becomes harder and harder to say no to their care when it’s just so nice. After he has a nightmare, they’re there for him and feelings come to light.

AKA Eliot has a terrible time physically (and partly emotionally), but gets lots of cuddles and two partners in the end.

On AO3.

Ships: Thiefsome OT3

Warnings: Eliot's low self-esteem and the flu

~~~~~~~~~~

Pull Me Close

When he awoke the next morning, he was pinned down by two warm weights at his sides. He kept his breathing steady, as if he were still asleep while he assessed the situation, before last night came back to him.

He felt a heat rising to his cheeks as he cracked open one eye to look, the other having swollen shut throughout the night. It was indeed Parker and Hardison who were pinning him down and he knew he couldn't sneak out without them noticing right now. He was trapped and sooner or later he would have to face them again.

Quietly he sorted through everything, hoping to come up with a plan to make this less awkward for everyone involved.

If he moved now, they would wake up and know he was awake and he would have to talk to them, but if he pretended to still be asleep maybe they’d leave him alone, however that would be unrealistic, because he would never sleep through them waking up and it was creepy to pretend to sleep just so that you could enjoy laying in the warmth of your two coworkers that you were in love with without having to deal with the mess that made.

But, fuck, he was comfortable. More comfortable that he’d been in years. The pain had dulled a lot and he was warm and cozy under the sheets with Parker and Hardison there. Hardison snored softly and Parker’s fingers skittered over him in her sleep, almost miming a pickpocket.

It was something nice that he would never have, never deserve. And while it was selfish, he didn’t want it to end just yet.

Still, he had no say in that and all his thinking was for naught when his door slammed open and the familiar silhouette of Nate appeared, saying: “Ah, there you all are. It’s eight, we want to leave as soon as we can.”

“We’ll be there,” Parker chirped, having gone from fast asleep to awake in a moment. Nate nodded at her, before leaving.

On Eliot’s other side, Hardison was taking his time, burrowing his face into Eliot’s uninjured shoulder as he whined softly. Eliot couldn't blame him, they’d gotten to the hotel around three in the morning, so they’d had less than five hours if it was eight now. Still, the hot breaths on his neck were not good if he wanted to keep this platonic, so he poked Hardison and grouched: “Get off me, man.”

“Wha?” Hardison looked up, smiling in a way that made Eliot’s heart twist when he saw it, before he said: “Hey, it’s you. How you doin’?”

“I’m fine, slight headache and sore muscles,,” Eliot told him honestly. “I’ll be up and running in no time, now just get off me so that I can get up.”

“Your eye is bruised,” Hardison frowned, noticing the black eye that had been a light bruise a few hours ago.

“Yeah,” Parker agreed poking it and making him wince.

“Don’t touch it, Parker,” he said, leading her hand away from his face. “It’s fine, just a bruise that I forgot to cool, it’s nothing. Now stop pinning me to the mattress.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, man,” Hardison got off and Eliot could see the other man was just wearing sweatpants nothing else and his face got a bit hot again, so he looked to the other side, only to discover that Parker was in nothing but a shirt and underwear. God either loved or hated him very much.

So, instead of focusing on them, he focused on getting to a sitting position, pleased to find he could do that on his own.

He was still in Hardison’s hoodie and his own sweatpants and he really didn’t want to change. This was comfortable and warm and it would be easy to take off at home when he was by himself again, which twisted something cold in his chest. Besides he could always wash it and give it back later, an excuse to keep it for a little while. He asked: “Hey, man, can I keep this for today?” as he rubbed the sleeves between his fingers, trying not to think how sad it was that he wanted to keep it, just craving a bit of comfort for today. He still felt groggy and generally uncomfortable.

Hardison looked over, a strange look coming over his face when he saw how the sleeves fell over Eliot’s hands, before he nodded: “Yeah, course.”

“Cool, thanks.” Now this was just getting awkward, so Eliot swung his legs over the side of the bed where Parker had been, since she had disappeared a few seconds ago.

Before he could stand up, however, Hardison was crawling after him, nearly toppling off the bed, before he said: “Wait! Stop. You can’t just do that, Eliot. Your ankle is hurt.”

“Me and my ankle will live,” Eliot informed him. It would be slightly painful to walk, but not impossible.

“Just let me help for a moment,” Hardison asked, quickly pulling on a shirt he found on the floor, before offering a hand.

Eliot rolled his eyes at the fussing, but he was also selfish enough to allow it. It was going to be over soon anyway, why not enjoy a bit of contact? Hardison wanted to help, so it wasn’t taking advantage of it, and not putting any weight on his ankle would be a smart move.

So, they made their way downstairs, with Hardison carrying Eliot’s bag and laying his hand on Eliot’s waist again, while Parker met them at the elevator, her and Hardison’s stuff in hand almost as if they’d planned this.

He tried not to think about it as Hardison led him to the table where Sophie was sitting, before telling him he was to stay there and that Hardison would get him a plate from the buffet. Once he was gone, Sophie leaned over and asked: “So, good night?”

“Was fine,” he replied, eyeing her suspiciously after she’d grinned at him and flicked her eyes towards Hardison and Parker. Had she figured out his feelings? Was he being obvious? Did she think something happened between them? Trying to play it cool, he added: “Got more than 90 minutes of sleep for a change.”

“Oh, your productivity out the door like that,” she teased, luckily dropping any suggestiveness and prying.

“I was productive in healing my body,” he shot back, hiding his relief.

Sophie frowned at his face, cocking her head. “I can see that,” she said sarcastically.

“Come on, Soph, this is not my first black eye,” Eliot said. “My stitches are clean, my ankle is wrapped, my shoulder is back. I’m as good as I can be, little swollen eye is nothing. Could be much worse. Has been in the past.”

At that point Hardison came back with a plate of stuff Eliot actually liked, which touched him more than he’d liked to admit. He put the plate down in front of Eliot, inserting himself into the conversation: “Is he trying to tell you he’s fine by telling you everything that’s wrong with him and reminding you that he’s had a shit life?”

“Yes, it’s not really working,” Sophie said, before Eliot could protest that it was useful, because he was reminding them this was his job and it was okay, that he was okay and taken care off, because all his wounds were clean and it wasn’t that bad.

Instead of saying all that, however, he shoved a fork of food into his mouth and glowered: “See if I ever tell you about my injuries again.”

“He’s grouching, that means he’s okay, right?” Parker asked, poking his cheek again.

“Stop that, Parker,” he snapped, not really mad at her, because he was weak and would do anything to make her happy.

“Jup, he’s okay,” Hardison said, smiling and Eliot wanted to smack him, but he was right and cute, so he couldn’t. “And he’s telling us about his injuries next time.”

“Or we’ll force him!” Parker added enthusiastically.

“Was it that bad?” Sophie was immediately worried again and Eliot wanted them to stop fussing, because it felt weird and twisty in his chest when they did and he hated that he didn’t know what to do with the feeling.

“No, it wasn’t, I’m-” he got cut off by Hardison, who said: “He was kinda out of it for a bit, but nothing we couldn't handle. He was a bit grumpy about the whole thing, but he’s always like that. We just need to keep his leg up and as cool as we can during the drive and he should be set. Probably sleep a bit on the way too.”

“And how am going to sleep in that crappy van?” Eliot grouched. He wanted to protest it all, but no one was listening to him, so protesting seemed a bit redundant. Besides it was hard to be mad at them about it when it seemed like they all cared about his well being and the twisty feeling in his chest was only getting twistier.

“Excuse you, Lucille is a beautiful lady and you will treat her as such,” Hardison began. “And second off, you can sleep in the backseat. There’s a storage area between the front seats that you can rest you foot on. Promise me and Parker won’t bother your little nap.”

“I’m not sleeping in the van,” not between the two of you, he added mentally. “And why don’t I get to sit up front? Don’t I have injured rights?”

“No, there’s more space on the backseat and Nate’s driving and you’re horrible when Nate drives,” Hardison explained.

“I’m not horrible when Nate drives, he just sucks at driving,” Eliot frowned.

“He turned on his blinker once and you got annoyed, because it was too early, Eliot,” Sophie pointed out.

“Yeah and what about that time you said he switched lanes wrong,” Parker said. “You were very scary. You’re not even that scary when I drive and everyone hates my driving.”

“I can’t help that Nate can’t drive,” Eliot crossed his arms.

From behind him Nate’s voice said: “I’m glad you think so highly off my driving skills. You’re in the back seat, I don’t need you to grouch at me for hours about holding the steering wheel wrong or whatever you come up with.”

Eliot had registered him coming up behind him, but he didn’t care that Nate heard. He wanted to be mad about being injured and unable to fight, but he wasn’t able to, so he was going to be mad about something else and right now that was Nate’s driving and being in the back seat. He frowned (frowned, not pouted, Hardison): “I’m still gonna yell at you from the back.”

“Sure you are,” Nate said as he started to walk off with a cup of coffee. “Our mark has officially been taken into custody and the victims have been repaid. I want to be home before dinner, so buckle up everyone.”

They grumbled and groaned about it being too earlier to pack up, but no one stayed seated. This time it was Parker steadying him while Hardison carried all their stuff to Lucille.

Getting back into Lucille was another problem and Eliot was glad Nate and Sophie had already gotten into the van, because this was embarrassing enough as it was without onlookers.

Hardison had to support him fully on the left side, where his injured ankle was, but not his ex-dislocated shoulder, while Parker physically put his uninjured foot into Lucille. Then Hardison hoisted them into the van with Parker making sure they wouldn't fall back, until they were in and they could shuffle forwards and get seated.

Eliot was determined not to be visibly injured, so he crossed his arms and planted his feet on the ground, before staring ahead, vowing to keep his one, not swollen eye firmly open for the entire ride.

His plan was ruined by Parker the moment she settled on his other side, because she leaned forwards and put his leg on the little platform and right as he was about to protest, she put a bag of ice cubes on his foot and that actually felt really nice, so he cut himself off with a soft, grumpy thanks. She smiled: “Of course,” before handing him another ice cube bag for his eye.

Still, he could be awake and grumpy about everything, even when they were treating him like he was terribly injured, which he could understand after the fucking spectacle he made of himself last night. So he just told Nate that he shouldn’t pull up so fast, which earned him a glare from the man through the rear view mirror that he ignored.

Parker was on his right fiddling with one of her locks while she gazed out the window. Hardison was on his left and tapping away on a screen that was moving too fast for Eliot to follow. It was peaceful and they talked with each other softly, though Eliot didn’t have the energy to add his own commentary.

He felt bad about being in the middle of them again when they had already missed each other last night because of him. They hadn’t even seen each other during the job either with Hardison on tech support and Parker running between stealing and grifting.

He didn’t know how to bring it up that he wouldn’t mind switching with Hardison so that they could be next to each other and he could lean against the window. It wasn’t that he was tired and wanted to lean against something, he just wanted to have a clear line of sight, that was all.

The ice was slowly melting, until he had two bags of water and they were nearing their first stop, where Nate pulled over. Sophie would be driving the next stretch, because car-safety and all that jazz.

“Want me to get you anything?” Hardison asked when it became clear that Eliot wasn’t leaving the van.

“Nah, I’m good,” he said. “Maybe switch places with me? I can’t lean against anything in the middle.” He didn’t add: ‘and I’m sure you missed Parker,’ partially because he knew it would have come out sounding bitter and that was something he did not need to deal with, both mentally and in real life.

Hardison raised a brow. “And where are you going to rest you foot if you’re on the left? And I know you ain’t going to be on the right, I heard your shoulder that shit was just wrong.”

“I’ll be fine without resting my foot anywhere. Dammit, Hardison,” Eliot frowned, not sure why the hacker was even fighting him on this.

“You can lean against me, promise I won’t draw on your face,” Hardison said, before walking away so that Eliot couldn't reply. Parker skipped up next to him and asked about the drawing on the face with a bit too much glee.

The words caught up with Eliot and he could feel his cheeks getting warmer, which he pushed down immediately. Hardison had offered it so casually, like it wasn’t weird at all that he was turning down the offer of sitting next to his girlfriend so that Eliot could lean against his shoulder. But maybe Eliot was seeing things where there was nothing, he was injured (minor injuries but that didn’t seem to stop Hardison from worrying), so it could just be a normal offer. It wasn’t as if Hardison hadn’t fallen asleep on his shoulder from time to time.

It wouldn't be weird, he didn’t need to make it weird. Besides, he didn’t needto take him up on the offer and lean on Hardison. He could just not sleep and keep on looking forwards. Yeah, that was a plan.

Soon the others came back, piling into the van once more, with Parker shoving two cold things in his hands as she proudly proclaimed: “They sold ice packs!”

“Oh, thank you, Parker,” he smiled at her, starting to lean forward with a grunt only to find one of the ice packs stolen and being placed on his foot again. He nodded his thanks to Parker, before settling down against the backseat and putting the other ice pack against his eye.

The swelling had gone down already with the ice cubes from the hotel, but the fresh coolness of the ice pack was still welcome.

On his other side, Hardison said: “I managed to convince her not to take the markers, so you’re welcome.”

“And who gave her the idea in the first place,” Eliot shot back, getting an idea. “I’m not risking it by sleeping. You never know if she doesn’t have them anyway.”

“Come on, man, you need the rest,” Hardison tried to argue.

“I already had more sleep than normal, Hardison. I’m fine,” Eliot replied. He did feel tired, but he wasn’t admitting that.

“But I promise I don’t have the markers,” Parker inserted herself into the conversation as well, showing that she only had some hundred dollar bills in her pockets along with some earrings that weren’t hers and a small stuffed mushroom.

“You literally just asked me if we could switch places so that you could lean against something,” it was clear that Hardison wasn’t believing him.

“I thought that you would want to sit next to Parker, sorry for trying to be nice,” he huffed out the truth, hoping it would get them off his back. They stayed silent, so he called out to the front: “Soph, can we please listen to something else, I am so not in the mood for opera.”

Sophie did change the station to something more generic with less high notes that made his head hurt, even if she grumbled: “Someone’s in a mood today.”

He snapped back: “You try getting beat up on a regular basis, see if you’re still sunshine and rainbows after.”

“No, for real, man, you’re never this grouchy,” Hardison frowned, trying to subtly check him over and failing on the subtle part. “Is something wrong? What’s going on?”

“Is there an alien in your stomach controlling you?” Parker asked with wide eyes.

“Dammit, Hardison, I told you not to watch those stupid alien movies with her,” Eliot focused on something other than the uncomfortable questions Hardison had asked.

Because yeah, he was more grouchy than normal and something was wrong, but the something that was wrong was the fact that he had discovered that he was in love with his two best friends and now he was stuck on an eight hour car ride between them after they had seen him vulnerable and he feared that they would catch on or that he was coming between them and it was all the confusing twisty things he had tried to avoid and didn’t want to talk about.

Grouchy didn’t entirely cover that.

“Uhm, excuse you, alien movies are a staple of American culture that everyone should get to experience, so don’t even start there, also you didn’t answer my question,” Hardison told him, leveling him with a stare.

Eliot now had a choice. And it was easily made. “I have a huge headache, Hardison,” he sighed a partially lie, before going on with a whole lie, “I have a headache, I barely slept on the last con and you’re all very loud. I don’t need anyone’s fussing, I just wanted to sit quietly and everyone is making it really hard.”

“Thank you for being honest with us,” Parker said and it was obviously something she’d learned from Sophie and Eliot felt guilty about pretending to be open about his injuries a bit, just so they would get off his back.

“Yeah, man, we’ll be quiet,” Hardison added.

Hardison turned back to his screen and Parker to her locks and Eliot tried not to miss their soft chatter as he closed his eyes and tried to find his zen place.

After how much he’d insisted he wasn’t going to sleep, he was slightly embarrassed that the next moment he was waking up, having been asleep for some time. He could tell Sophie was behind the wheel, which meant he either hadn’t been asleep for long or they were on the last two hour stretch home.

He now registered that the ice pack on his foot had was cool again and the one on his cheek was held in place by someone – Parker his mind supplied – but he was leaning against something, someone, else with his other cheek. He was kind of groggy and he struggled to wake up, blinking bleary until he heard Hardison’s voice near his left ear: “Hey there, finally joining us in the land of the living again, huh?”

“Wha?” he was still feeling disorientated, the headache was much worse than when he’d drifted off and his muscles were sore, he was also cold and his throat ached slightly in the background. He levered himself into a sitting position and tried to take a deep breath to wake up, only to find his nose stuffy.

No.

Fuck no.

It all clicked into place after a second. The confusion, the chills, the headache, sore muscles and throat and then also a stuffy nose. He was sick. He had managed to get himself sick.

“You okay?” Hardison asked, obviously concerned and Eliot felt guilty about having been asleep on his shoulder after everything, as well as guilt because that couldn't have been comfortable and Eliot just cozied up to him again, even when he knew Hardison had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who had been holding his ice pack for him.

He owed those two so much in just the last 24 hours alone, not to mention the past few years. That was something he couldn't pay back and he had treated them like shit and had caught weird feelings for them and gotten in between them.

Tears came to his eyes and he blinked them away as a hole started to eat away at his heart and he couldn't fully push that down, even if he tried.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that his too emotional state of being was due to his lower defenses since he was sick. He felt too exhausted to fight it, but did it after a moment anyway, replacing it with enough grumpiness to be believable.

“‘m fine,” he mumbled, trying not to make his sore throat obvious as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake up. They didn’t need to know he was sick, they would only worry. He would disappear when they got home and come back when he felt better again. “Are we near the brewpub yet?”

“Yes, you slept for so long, it was a bit boring, but your nose whistled and that was funny,” Parker informed him. “Hardison was trapped under you the entire ride.”

Now at that he did blush and avoided Hardison’s eyes as he softly apologized.

“No worries, man, you obviously needed the sleep,” Hardison assured him. “And I wasn’t trapped under you the entire ride, we managed to lever you over to Parker’s shoulder when Nate took Sophie’s place again. We only switched you back last stop.”

“I didn’t wake up?” Eliot asked, frowning, he must be sicker than he thought.

“Slept like a baby,” Hardison said. “Are you sure you’re okay, man?”

“‘m fine, I already said that,” Eliot grouched, trying not to let show how much he wanted to not be okay and wrapped up in a hug or a blanket or something. He was the tough one, he couldn't be weak, because his job was being strong. Just hold on, Eliot, he thought, then you can crash on your bed.

“Your voice sounds off,” Parker observed, “more gravelly than normal. And you didn’t wake up in a second and your eyes are still drooping.” She cocked her head, before her eyes got a knowing gleam in them. He was made. “Do you feel hungry? Or are you nauseous? Are you in any discomfort? Cold, perhaps? How’s your headache?”

“Hey, mama, why don’t you give the man a rest,” Hardison came to his defense. “You’re kinda overwhelming him with questions right now.”

“When has Eliot ever been overwhelmed?” Parker shot back and Eliot cursed her observation skills, there went his plan to hide until he was better.

“What are you getting at, baby?” Hardison frowned.

“She figured out I’m sick,” Eliot snapped, before Parker could tell him. “And I’m right here. No need to talk about me like I’m not.”

“You’re sick?” Nate asked. “How long has that been going on?”

“I only noticed it when I woke up,” Eliot replied, remembering one of Nate’s rules. “I would have told you if I was sick on the con. I wouldn’t have put you all in danger over me being sick, you know that.”

“Is his wound infected?” Sophie asked and before Eliot could tell them that no it was not, because he would have noticed that, two small calloused thief hands crawled under his shirt, feeling at the bandage, before lifting his shirt to inspect it. Parker reported: “The wound is fine.”

“Do we have supplies for soup at home?” Hardison asked.

“I think we have a blanket for him somewhere under the chairs,” Nate said.

“Oehh, we can build a pillow fort!” Parker exclaimed.

“I’m right here,” Eliot grouched, he didn’t need their care. Craved it? Yes. But he didn’t need it and he wasn’t going to let them. He was supposed to be invincible and while they were long past believing that, he couldn't let them see how pathetic he was. “And I don’t need a damn blanket or soup, or a pillow fort. I’m just a bit under the weather and I am fine on my own. I’ll take a few days and then I’m good to go, don’t be so dramatic.”

Hardison looked him over, then looked at Parker and raised his brow in an ‘are you hearing this guy’ manner, before he said: “I can be as dramatic as I want to be.”

“What? No,” Eliot said. “I’m the sick one and if I say I’m fine and you gotta stop being dramatic about it, then you stop being dramatic about it. Simple.”

“Sure, simple,” Hardison said, pulling out the blanket and teamworking with Parker to get it around his shoulders. “Except I worried my ass off last night because you could hardly walk, or even stand on your own and you dazed out constantly while trying to tell us you were fine. So when it comes to you telling me you’re fine, I’m not really trusting you, alright.”

The blanket around his shoulders was warm and he wanted to burrow into it, but he wasn’t giving in so easily.

“Dammit, Hardison, I said I was fine. I don’t need any of your fussing near me, alright. I’m not incompetent. It’s not even that bad,” he yelled, snapping because he had no energy to do anything but snapping or giving in at this point. And giving in wasn’t an option.

“I know you’re not incompetent, Eliot, we all do,” Hardison said, Parker agreeing: “Of course we don’t think that, you’re skilled.”

He crossed his arms and looked away. He knew they didn’t think he was incompetent, they wouldn't trust him with their lives otherwise, but that could change at any moment. He’d seen it happen before, so he wasn’t risking it.

“And I’m also hearing a lot about you don’t needing anything, which I also believe,” Hardison went on in a tone that had Eliot’s guard up. “But I ain’t hearing nothing about wanting. And we care about you, man, how many times have I got to tell you that? We want to take care of you, even if we know you don’t need it.”

“I don’t need anyone playing nurse,” he protested again. It was weak and he knew it, but he had to protest, he had to warn them without explicitly warning them, because that would also be a weakness and- His head hurt and the thoughts in it were swirling and confusing him.

“That kinda looks like a lie to me,” Hardison said, looking him over with concern in his eyes. “And you’re again talking about needing not wanting.”

“Are you okay, Eliot?” Parker was also not happy with his face it seemed, but he knew he must look like a confused, sweating, hurt mess, with a swollen eye and a shivering frame. He had even pitifully burrowed into the blanket without even realizing.

“I’m- I’m- I don’t know,” he finally admitted. He was just tired and upset about feelings he couldn't place. He wanted to crash someplace warm and not have to think for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said again, voice unsteady. “It’s- I- I can never want something. ‘s a weakness.”

If he was paying attention, he could have pinpointed when Hardison’s heart broke by the look in his eye, but instead he was distracted by Parker pulling him into a hug as she said: “I get it, but Hardison taught me how to feel stuff and you taught me how to like stuff, we can teach you how to be taken care of.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Sophie’s voice was slightly fake in her enthusiasm as it came from the front seat, cutting off any half-formed protests from Eliot.

“Me too,” Hardison quickly agreed, throwing an arm over Eliot’s shoulder and pulling him close, until he was leaning against his chest, Parker on his lap like a pretzel. “We’ll teach you how to be taken care off and then you can work on your verbal explanations by teaching me how to make soup for you from the comforts of a bed.”

“Wha- I don’t-” Eliot’s mind was too confused to properly fight the argument, he somewhere knew needed to be fought, while also not wanting to fight it.

“It’s been a lot of don’ts from you, just accept it, alright?” Hardison said, pulling him closer and he wanted to protest again. Really, he did. But he was also very comfortable and warm and he was tired and they’d be home soon. He could fight them again when they were home.

In the end, it turned out that fighting them when they got home was a terrible plan. The sleeping had left him groggy and Nate and Sophie had already disappeared, leaving him with just Hardison’s comforting chattering and Parker’s puppy eyes. He couldn't drive home in this state and both had refused to drive him and he already had a room above the brewpub, so he could go home tomorrow if he felt like it and-

And he gave in, the great Eliot Spencer, defeated by cute little eyes and too many arguments about a comfortable bed nearby. What had his life come to?

His life had come to waking up in a soft bed, that Hardison had managed to get exactly right before he’d even arrived in Portland all those months ago, with a sore throat and muscles, while being nicely warm on his right side where a bony elbow was wedged into his side, while on the other side there was a consistent, comfortingly familiar tapping noise.

He blinked blearily and groaned when a wave of nausea rolled over him, before a coughing fit overtook him. Parker’s warmth disappeared, but Hardison’s voice came: “Hey, hey, you’re alright, you’re alright.”

A glass of water appeared and he took it gratefully, sipping it slowly and letting it sooth his throat and wash away the itch at the back of it.

“You’ve been clonked out for the past few hours, about sixteen. How you feeling?” And Eliot was grateful that Hardison knew him well enough to first tell him how much time he’d lost before asking him about his state.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but his voice was barely a whisper.

“That response is really ingrained, isn’t it, huh?” Hardison said, but there was no judgment in his voice.

“Oehh, is that one of the things we’re teaching him to stop with? Like how I had to look further than the alarms in a museum?” Parker piped up.

“Yeah, exactly, mama,” Hardison’s smile was obvious when he talked. “He can start by telling us how he really feels.”

And Eliot was honestly too tired to follow the conversation, so he gave up on trying and just answered honestly: “Like I’ve been hit by a motorcycle.”

“Not a truck?” Hardison asked.

“No, motorcycle hit is very distinctive.”

“You and your distinctive,” the mutter was more for Hardison himself than him, so he ignored it. “Parker, baby, if I go get the soup, can you make sure he doesn’t drop off again. He needs to eat if he wants to recover.”

“Of course, I’ll keep watch!” Parker saluted and Hardison left the room.

Eliot let his eyes close, content to just lie there, but Parker obviously thought he was falling asleep again, because she poked his right cheek where the bruise was. It was less tender than last time, but still sore, so he hissed: “The fuck, Parker.”

“I need to keep you awake,” she said with wide eyes and he wanted to roll his, but that would make her sad, so he just sighed and leaned back into his pillow, this time with his eyes open.

“What happened?” he asked, trying to put together the little bit of information his brain was willing to give him.

“Well, you were out beating people up in the rain,” she launched into an explanation, “and Hardison says you don’t actually get sick from the rain, but you did get sick and me and Hardison are taking care of you, but you were really grumpy on the drive back, but then you fell asleep. And your nose whistled.”

He let her voice wash over him as she went on.

“But then you woke up and you were really sad about something, but also grouchy and then Hardison did his thing, where he gets people and has like the voice that tells him what you need to hear. He and Sophie both do it, it’s fascinating, he’s teaching me how to do it too. And you gave in, because you wanted to, but you didn’t want to tell us, so we had to crack your emotion safe with our words and now we’re going to teach you how to be taken care of,” she finished.

Wait what? He had put most of the pieces together and part of him had only partially questioned why they were in his bed, but he hadn’t remembered this. He thought they were just here to see if he woke up again and now that he had, he could throw them out of his room (going to his apartment seemed too hard at this point), but not this.

Before the freak out could fully set in, Hardison entered with a bowl of steaming soup. “Here you go, chicken noodle soup, the best for when you’re sick and homemade,” Hardison grinned. “I really want to say by us, but we set a pan on fire and then asked the kitchen staff to make it.”

He wordlessly accepted the soup, still trying to figure out what was going on exactly, how he felt about it and how he would get out of it.

Yeah, okay, what the fuck had his life come to?

A/N:

I really like the idea of Eliot being fine with the insane driving off Sophie and Parker, because it’s at least functional in a getaway situation, but he can’t stand Nate’s just below average driving (personal headcanon) in an everyday situation. It tickles me.

Also I know that Lucille doesn’t have a backseat bench, but the vibes were too good so just go with it

#RR writing #tw: self esteem issues #tw: flu #tw: sickfic #leverage #leverage tv #leverage ot3 #hitter hacker thief #thiefsome #eliot x hardison x parker #eliot spencer #eliot spencer angst #alec hardison #parker #leverage parker #nate ford #sophie devereaux #Hold Me Together #Hold Me Together Part 2

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innytoes · 3 years

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Leverage Redemption 1x15

Leverage Redemption spoilers ahead!

-Zero percent the point of the intro but did those kids have lights on their bicycle wheels? I want lights on my bicycle wheels!!!

-TEDDY BEAR. Did Hardison send you that, Eliot?

-Parker’s abandonment issues being poked. Get this woman some puppets, stat.

-I like Becky already. “Hey dad, remember how you thought you were slick well you ain’t shit.”

-Harry, her stepdad is not a good man. Whoever responds to ‘teen daughter gets grabbed by a dude right outside her home’ with ‘don’t call the police it’s fine I’ll take care of it’ is not a good dude.

-Love Parker beating up people too.

-I’m sorry but Grace, I don’t care how much you trust your husband WHY IS NOBODY TAKING THE ‘OUR TEEN DAUGHTER GOT GRABBED OUTSIDE THE HOUSE’ seriously? You have terrible taste in men.

-Stop ruining Eliot’s little fantasy, Breanna.

-I am ignoring the whole Maria thing and twisting ‘I always admired you and Hardison’s relationship’ as ‘in our very solid poly triad’. You’re not taking my ot3 away from me, writers.

-Parker: Nobody tells our boyfriend he’s not good enough.

-Ouch. It must hurt to hear that your wife didn’t leave you because you were a terrible person, but because you were a terrible person who didn’t take her out to brunch enough.

-But no way am I believing Harry actually went evil.

#leverage #leverage redemption #leverage redemption spoilers #fun fact my aunt Teddy's first serious boyfriend was named Bear and she always said she was glad she didn't marry him for that reason

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lets-go-steal-a-hardison · 3 years

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Good Days and Bad Ones

New Leverage ot3 fic! Warning for gun violence and gun wounds. Fluff then angst then fluff again. ~2.9k words | Teen

Can read below or on my ao3 account here.

It had been a good day. Eliot should have known not to trust that, but lately, he had been having a lot of good days. The worst part was that what happened wasn’t even on a job. They didn’t even see it coming.

Eliot had woken up surrounded by his partners. The fact that he couldn’t move from being so entangled in their arms and legs should have felt suffocating, but instead, it just felt safe. He started to move around, wanting to get up and go start his morning routine, and Hardison nuzzled into his neck.

“C’mon man, I gotta get up,” Eliot whispered to him.

Hardison grunted, still mostly asleep, then kissed where he had just nuzzled. He did relax his arms though.

Okay. One down. One more to go.

Eliot turned to look at Parker and saw she was awake, already looking at him.

“I gotta get up, sweetheart, you gonna let me?” he said with a small smile.

Parker was wrapped around his arm with a leg thrown over him. She pouted a bit, then kissed his shoulder before letting him go.

“Thanks, darlin’. I’ll make pancakes later, kay?”

Parker grinned at him. “With whipped cream?”

“Only if I can add blueberries,” Eliot bargained as he got up and pulled on a shirt. He had to get her to eat fruit somehow.

“Fiiiiiine,” Parker said, moving into the warmed spot Eliot had just vacated and wrapping around Hardison, who octopused onto her the moment she was in arm’s reach.

Eliot took a moment to stare at them. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe that they chose to love him. Change with him. It was humbling, their love for him.

He was one lucky bastard.

Eliot did his morning workout, then showered. By the time that he was going into the bedroom to get clothes, towel around his waist, Parker was up. She took off Hardison’s old shirt, which she had been using as a pajama shirt, and kissed Eliot one more time before taking the next shift in the shower. Hardison was still passed out on the bed, but as Eliot walked in, he started to stir.

Letting the towel slip off, Eliot bent over to pull on underwear and heard an appreciative rumble from Hardison. It took a while for him to be coherent in the morning, unless he had stayed up all night. That caused a different kind of incoherence.

Eliot grinned at him from over his shoulder as he continued to get dressed. “You snooze, you lose,” he teased.

Hardison let out a sleepy groan, then made grabby hands towards Eliot.

“Hell nah, I’ve got to get started on Parker’s pancakes,” Eliot said, already walking forward anyway.

“Mmmmm… pancakes,” Hardison hummed as he pulled Eliot in. Eliot could feel his boyfriend’s smile against his lips. He pulled back and kissed him once more, on the forehead this time, and moved away.

“They’ll be ready in a bit, you just gotta be up for them!” Eliot called as he walked out of the bedroom.

It was a good morning.

It didn’t last.

___________________________________

The first gunshot rang out at 1:12 pm. Eliot knew because in the moment, everything froze and he took in everything in the kitchen of the brewpub, including the time.

The screams came next.

Eliot immediately put himself in between the doors to the kitchen and the waitstaff and cooks. “Run. If you can’t run, hide. If you can’t hide, fight. GO!” he said, jerking his head to the back entrance, hoping he wasn’t sending them into a trap.

“ALEC HARDISON!” a voice roared. “COME OUT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT.”

Eliot felt himself move before he had really thought about it. He cut across the kitchen and made his way quickly but effectively towards the living part of the brewpub, where he had left Hardison and Parker at their dining room table.

Too late.

Hardison came out of the back room with his hands up and Eliot redirected his attention to the rest of the room, immediately assessing the three men with guns in the middle of the room. The patrons of the brewpub were cowering in their seats and on the floor. There was one man by the door too, covering the exit.

It didn’t look good.

“Sinclair,” Hardison drawled. If Eliot didn’t know Hardison as well as he did, he wouldn’t be able to tell how tense he was. He kept it hidden in the flex of his back muscles and his hands.

It was a very distinctive flex.

“Haven’t seen you in years. How you been, man?” Hardison continued, arms still raised.

“Well, prison is a bitch and those anger management classes just didn’t take. So, here we are,” the man in the front, Sinclair, said as he waved the hand not holding his gun to take in the scene.

“What do you want?” Hardison asked, his face and voice becoming serious.

“Need your help with a job.”

“And you thought coming in guns blazing into my day job was the best way to ask?” Hardison asked derisively.

Sinclair smiled grimly. “This isn’t asking. Either you will help me or I will shoot you where you stand.”

Hardison shrugged. “I’ve got my own crew and while they don’t mind me working freelance, I think they would object to the job conditions.”

“You’re damn right,” Eliot growled, moving into the room.

“Oh hell no,” the guy who was guarding the door said. “You didn’t say Eliot fucking Spencer was part of the target’s crew. I’m out.”

He threw open the door and ran out the brewpub.

One down, three to go.

The other two men shifted nervously as Eliot stared them down, looking between them and the man Hardison had called Sinclair. Eliot didn’t like how steady Sinclair’s aim was at Hardison.

“Fellas. Now we can either have y’all walk out of here alive, or there’s gonna be a need for body bags. Which is it gonna be?” Eliot said.

The two men glanced at each other. One shook his head, but the other one started sliding towards the door.

“Don’t you dare, Clancy, don’t you dare!” Sinclair shouted.

“Man, I got a baby at home. I just needed the payout, but she needs me more,” the man, Clancy, said. He turned and was out the door.

Two on two.

Eliot liked those odds.

“You sure you won’t help?” Sinclair asked, and Eliot started edging towards Hardison, ready to move if he needed.

Suddenly, Sinclair’s gun was pointed at Eliot.

“Not even if I threaten to shoot your buddy here?”

“Whoa. Now, hey man, you didn’t have to go there. We had our moment, I said no, and you just had to keep pressing. They always keep pressing, don’t they, Eliot?”

“Hardison…” Eliot cautioned, cause he knew what Hardison was doing. He was trying to get himself back in Sinclair’s crosshairs, even though Eliot was much more comfortable being the one with the gun pointed at him.

“Nah, man, I know you’re doing your macho shit right now, and I for one do not appreciate it. You are trying to kill him just with your glarey eyes and guess what, man? Doesn’t work. I know, cause otherwise I would be at least slightly damaged by now.”

“Oh my God, shut UP!” Sinclair said.

He turned.

Eliot jumped.

And Hardison gasped as the bullet hit his shoulder.

Sinclair watched as Hardison stared disbelievingly down at the bloom of blood on his shoulder. He took a gasping breath of air, then his knees went out.

Eliot caught him before he could hit the ground.

“Put pressure on it, Alec. Come on, you know the deal,” Eliot encouraged, pressing down himself. He could sense Sinclair in his peripheral vision, but Hardison was his priority.

“It’s d-d-different wh-when it’s you,” Hardison stuttered.

He was going into shock. Eliot needed to finish this so that they could get Chicken Parm down here, get him to help Hardison.

Eliot forced himself to take his attention off of Hardison and place it firmly on Sinclair.

He looked disconcerted at the look on Eliot’s face.

Good.

“You lost your chance to walk away when you pulled that trigger,” he said to Sinclair. He turned to the last man standing, who flinched when their eyes met. “Last chance for you.”

The man nodded. Dropped his gun. Walked out.

“You fucker!” Sinclair said, sighting his gun on Eliot.

Only for Parker to drop down from the ceiling, right on top of him.

The gun still went off, but Eliot was unscathed. He rushed forward, diving on top of Sinclair who fought tooth and nail to keep his gun in his hands. Eliot saw Parker crawl across the floor towards the gun the last man had dropped out of the corner of his eyes.

In the moment of distraction, Sinclair’s finger found the trigger and pulled.

Eliot felt the bright burn of the bullet going into his hip, but he just grunted and pulled back a fist, bringing it crashing down onto Sinclair’s temple.

He went limp.

Eliot forced himself to stand. He turned and Parker nodded to him from where she was standing, gun pointed at Sinclair.

“I’ve got him, you get Alec,” she said.

Eliot nodded. He pulled out his phone as he went over to Hardison and put pressure on his wound, making Alec whine, high and full of pain.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, gotta keep pressure on it. Help’s coming, Alec, just hang on, kay?” he murmured as the phone rang.

“P-parker okay?” Hardison whispered.

“Yeah, she’s-” Eliot glanced over to Parker and froze. “Parker.”

She looked at him from keeping an eye on Sinclair. “What?”

“Your leg.”

She followed Eliot's gaze and looked down to her thigh. The right leg of her sweatpants - actually Eliot was pretty sure those had been his as some point - was soaked with blood.

She looked back at Eliot. “Huh.”

Then she collapsed.

“SHIT!” Eliot shouted.

“Hello?”

Eliot remembered the phone in his hand. His head was swimming and he blinked repeatedly to clear it. “Parm, altercation at the brewpub. Three GSW’s, Hardison n’ Parker are down. You need to- to… aw, hell,” he slurred.

Then he fell forward onto Hardison’s chest and the world went black.

_________________________________

Dragging himself out of inky black unconsciousness was one of Eliot’s least favorite things in the world. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it sucked.

He was definitely on drugs, cause his brain took way too long to connect to his body. He was floating a bit even when he realized who he was and started registering his body and surroundings.

He was definitely in a hospital. The smell, the sounds of the intercom, and the feeling of an IV in his hand were too distinct for him to be anywhere else.

Eliot wasn’t as bad as Nate, but he still wasn’t a fan of hospitals. The catheter alone was enough to make him wanna punch someone.

Forcing his eyes open, he looked around the room. There was an empty bed next to him and no one else in the room. He wanted to jump up and find Hardison and Parker, find out if they were alright, but the ache in his hip made him grimace as he sat up.

He settled for hitting the call button.

“Hello, Mr. Dubois, how are you feeling?” the nurse who came in asked.

“Sore and floaty. Can we reduce the meds? I hate this feeling. Rather have the pain,” Eliot said.

The woman pursed her lips. “We can, though I will ask you to start taking tylenol in its place, so you still have something in your system.”

Eliot nodded. “The others at the brewery,” he started, not sure what cover he should be working with, how he should be referring to his partners, “are they alright?”

“The gunman has been taken into custody after getting treatment for his concussion. The man and woman who were also injured are stable. I’m sorry, that’s all I can say,” she said, working with the machine next to Eliot.

He hoped that the floating feeling would leave soon. He needed to come back to his body, pain or no pain.

“Alright, call if you need to get back on the morphine or if you need assistance with anything else.”

“When can I get up?” Eliot asked.

“We can do a walk around this evening, but we’re leery of moving before in case the stitches are disturbed. We can take out the catheter at that time as well, as you will be able to get up for bathroom needs at that point. Sounds okay?”

It didn’t, but Eliot forced himself to nod again.

The nurse had been out of the room for about a minute when Eliot heard something overhead. He grinned at the ceiling, then frowned.

“Parker, should you be up yet?” he asked.

“The doc said that I could get up to see to my needs, and I needed to check on you,” she said through the vent.

“They meant the bathroom, Parker, not my sorry ass,” Eliot said.

“Yeah, yeah. How you feeling?” she asked.

“They reduced my meds, but still disconnected a bit.” He knew she would get what he meant, so he didn’t elaborate. “Alec okay?”

“Yeah. He was still sleeping, but his vitals looked good. He lost the most blood of us, so he’ll probably be in here the longest,” Parker said.

“He’ll love that,” Eliot grumbled, already imagining the havoc that Hardison could produce if left in a hospital bed for any extended period of time.

Of course, he would have to be awake to cause havoc…

Eliot shrugged away the thought, reminded himself that Parker said he was doing well.

“How long you gonna be here?” Eliot asked.

He heard a rustle and imagined that Parker had shrugged. “Bullet went through and through, just bled a lot. Once they are sure that it’s closed and healing, I’ll be good to go. They had to dig the bullet out of your hip,” she said, her voice getting quieter. “So it might be longer for you.”

“I figured that, darlin’. It’ll be alright.” He glared at the grate without any real heat. “Now get back to your bed and to healing.”

“I’d rather be here with you,” she said, her voice soft.

“That ain’t fair,” Eliot said, staring at the grate. He felt the ache in his hip and now he had one in his heart. “You gotta go back, Parker, cause if you’re here, you aren’t getting your meds. I’m being good and taking mine, you gotta too.”

“Fiiiiine,” Parker said. “I’ll be back though.”

“I would be worried if you didn’t,” Eliot said.

He didn’t hear her go, but felt when she was gone.

It was going to be a long stay in the hospital.

___________________________________

Hardison had woken up later that evening and Eliot had been able to see him when he was doing his walk around. Alec was still pretty out of it, but he smiled up at Eliot.

“Knew you would take care of it,” he said, only slurring a bit.

“Get some sleep,” Eliot said, resisting the urge to touch him. Their cover stories weren’t partners.

Parker got out of the hospital first. Eliot missed her voice coming out of the ceiling, but was checked out the next day anyways.

The brewpub wasn’t the same without Alec around. Eliot ended up stocking a bunch of the meals that Alec liked in the fridge for when he came home and Parker installed a new security system. They cleaned the whole back area of the pub they called their home, working in tandem as they washed sheets and clothes, scrubbed down the kitchen and bathroom, and tidied the rest of it. They didn’t sleep much.

By the time Alec got home, the place was spotless and stocked with orange soda and Eliot’s food.

Hardison eased onto the couch and looked around. He turned to his partners and grinned. “You missed me.”

Parker rolled her eyes. “Course we did, dummy.”

Eliot inclined his head, conceding. “Maybe.”

“You hungry?” Eliot continued.

“Eliot made all your favorites,” Parker said. Eliot narrowed his eyes at her, cause he wanted that to be a surprise.

“Did he?” Hardison said, smile turning toward Eliot. “You know I’d never say no to Eliot’s cooking. Mind bringing it here? Have y’all eaten? Let’s just all eat here, pull up some movie.”

Eliot nodded. Parker jumped up from where she had been sitting next to Alec, kissing him on the top of his head before she followed Eliot into the kitchen.

They settled in, food and movie at the ready. They finished eating long before the end of the movie, but their plates lay forgotten on the coffee table as they cuddled as close as their wounds would allow them to.

Eliot felt sleep come slowly towards him, but didn’t do anything to fight it. He trusted Parker, and by extension, her security system. He knew that both Parker and Hardison were safe and healing. More bad days may come, but they would face them together.

In the arms of his two best friends and loves of his life, he let himself rest.

#leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #alec hardison #parker #eliot spencer #leverage #fanfic #my fic

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meggie-stardust · 3 years

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Expanded thoughts on Leverage: Redemption episodes 1 and 2, as expressed through a bulleted list in a random order:

I love how respectful they are of Nate’s legacy. As @mpanighetti said “Nate is everywhere”

Sophie's explanation of Nate's life –– at least he burned –– is amazing.

The development of Parker’s emotional intelligence (and then mentioning she sees a child psychiatrist) is A+

The character dynamic of the OT3 is just so on point. Hardison referring to Parker as "babe"; Eliot calling Parker "Park"; the way they always know that the other one is doing... you can tell they have been each other's whole world for years off screen.

Eliot saying "Evens only, baby" is like half quoting Hardison, but also like half calling Hardison baby, right?

They built vents in the house for Parker!!!

"Babe, my accents have always been good, right" D-E-D dead baby

I love they aren't trying to make Harry Wilson a direct replacement for Nate. And I love that he's part stand in for the audience as he's learning what they do, but also so enthusiastic about it.

Can we talk about Eliot's upgraded fighting??

And how Hardison says "That cowboy over there gets up every day and says it's still not enough"?? Break my heart.

I said "I am so happy" out loud like 4x while watching

Breanna seems like she's going to be a fun addition. And I love how parental they are, especially Parker.

I hope that they treat Hardison's absence like they did for Sophie in S2, and that he's "there" even if he isn't on the job with them (I guess I'll find out tonight).

I also laughed out loud at least 6x during just the first episode alone

I am very curious how they are working around the technical advances since 2012: Hardison's 3D printer for forgeries, Breanna's skill with social media, etc. I'm excited to see what else they do.

Their new HQ is amazing. I assume they sold the brewpub when they started up the foodtrucks (also so delightful)

My only complaint is that they dropped the first 8 episodes on the same day, and I just hate the binge mentality for new content like this. I'm trying to watch 1-2 episodes a night, so I'll continue my random and rambley thoughts as I go.

Also at one point my husband asked "why did they make a sequel for this?" and I was like "Because it's the greatest show of all time, and everyone knows that I don't understand the question."

#leverage: redemption #leverage spoilers #come yell at me about leverage

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suddenrundown · 3 years

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THOUGHTS OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD WHILE I HAVE THEM MARINATING!

it’s long and rambly so under the cut:

-Ripperoni Naterooni. I guess that’s a good way to not totally destroy the memory of his character. They didn’t want to do Nate dirty and I respect that.

-Ok so the house is Sophie’s house not the ot3 house. Gotcha. Nice house, Sophie, it’s lovely. AS ARE YOU!

-it’s not the ot3 house but parker, hardison, and eliot are being the most domestic people inside that house oh my god they’re married.

-no like, legit? they are married. It’s hard to pin down exactly what moment to talk about with them because like in literally every moment they were so married. You look up the dictionary definition of “married” and their picture is just there. The caption reads “3 people happily married”

-ELIOT! CALLED! PARKER! PARK! WHEN I TELL YOU THAT I HAVE VERY NEARLY WRITTEN HIM CALLING HER THAT IN FICS BUT DIDNT CUZ I THOUGHT IT WOULDN’T BE TRUE TO CHARACTER! NOTHING IS STOPPING ME NOW, BABY! ITS PARK ALL DAY EVERY DAY.

-Ok i guess let’s just get all the eliot/parker moments out of the way and then i’ll do the others. ok like uhhhhhhh they stood so close to each other all the time and also?? the moment where eliot was gonna go help sophie while she was crying during the con and parker pulled him back and just held him against the wall. off topic but at this moment i got a charlie horse in my leg and was in extreme pain trying to focus on what was happening and i had to pause it. BUT you know what? worth it. anyway, married.

-uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh so hardison and eliot???? their handshake! the way they stood so close together! the way eliot kept making fun of hardison being a light weight? “i told you hardison! dammit hardison!” the banter? oh the banter.“OH WHEN HARRY WAS LIKE “what happened?” and they were like “WE HAPPENED!” OH MY GOD.

-Parker and Hardisonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn BABIES. The most obvious relationship of course, looooooooove how comfortable parker has become with physical contact, the way she pulled him in by the TIE!! LORD! oof.

-shoutout to eliot and sophie, just because you know, you gotta. he’s most in tune with her emotions it seems. love that for them. they’re a special breed of friendship fo’ sho.

-ALL the little callbacks and the character moments! Parker doing a flip for no reason other than she can, how bad she wanted to crawl through vents lol. Eliot telegraphing a fight before it happens and then doing it (woo!). Hardison just being the smartest man alive and just being so damn funny. Sophie having to pick up the pieces of herself after nate but she is still! so! capable! i believe in you ma’am!

-the plot?? im down for the plot! and harry! love harry needing to go on this road to redemption IM HERE FOR IT! IM HERE FOR IT ALL!

YAY!!! LEVERAGE IS BACK!!

#leverage #leverage redemption #leverage 2.0 #L2 spoilers #alec hardison #parker #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #harry wilson

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