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What, was "Rudy" on cable last night?

. . . Yes.


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Eliot Spencer vdistinctive
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75 Godiva Street, Thursday afternoon
It'd taken a few days of gathering supplies and drawing up more plans, but Eliot finally managed to get his house properly secured. He finished screwing in the last bolt on the heavy steel bar that now extended across the center of his front door and stepped back to admire his handy-work. You couldn't hack -- or pick -- a ten pound steel bar.

And yeah, okay, he knew it was kind of overkill. He got that. But the pounding headache that kicked up every time he thought about that, about the fact that he was literally locking out two of the people he cared about most, kept him from thinking about it too hard. He had to lock them out, had to lock the whole world out, to keep them from taking the necklace from him. If he had to he'd put in a goddamn portcullis and moat to keep the thing safe.

Val trotted up next to him and pawed at the door, letting out a little whine. She looked up at Eliot and pressed her body against his leg, then pawed at the door again. Time to go out!

Eliot looked down at her, then back up at the door. The door he'd just finished heavily locking and bolting in such a way that it would take several minutes to get open again.

". . . Dammit."

This was exactly why people didn't have portcullises and moats anymore, wasn't it.

[ooc: pretty sure by now he's alienated anyone who would want to come talk to him, but can be open if I happen to be wrong.]

When had Hardison ever listened?

"Is someone trying to hunt you down?" he asked, finding another possible angle. "Is that what this is all about? Are you in trouble?"

This could absolutely be some kind of 'I must protect them by pushing them away' scenario, now that he thought about it.

"If someone's comin' for you, man, we stand a better chance of all of us comin out of this if we stick together. Anyone messin' with you is gonna have to deal with all of us, so it's better if you just tell us about it now--"

Eliot reached out and wrapped his fist in Hardison's shirt, yanking him forward against the counter. When he looked up into Hardison's eyes, he poured as much of the dark, terrible shit he had inside him into his expression as he could. "Go," he bit off again. "Home."

Eliot was pretty sure he was about thirty seconds from throwing up and collapsing. And if Hardison saw that, he'd never leave.

Edited at 2015-03-21 01:39 am (UTC)

Hardison had always known that Eliot had what his Nana had always described as 'darkness in his soul.' But he'd never seen anything more than glimpses, never stared directly into it.

When you look into the Abyss, he thought, a little giddy, the Abyss is making plans to kick yo' ass.

When Eliot finally let him go, Hardison dropped like a stone, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. He'd never been afraid of Eliot before, not really. Not like this. But looking into Eliot's eyes right then, he'd seen something that wouldn't hesitate to hurt him. Something that might even enjoy it a little.

He scrambled backwards, very nearly tumbling into the bear trap, before pushing himself up. "Eliot," he whispered. "Please, man...What am I supposed to tell Parker?"

She was counting on him to make things right!

Eliot braced his hand against the counter, having learned a long time ago how to hold himself up without looking like he had to hold himself up. "I don't --" He closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. "I don't care."

What was one more lie on top of all the others?

"Just -- leave. Now." He looked back over at Hardison. "Before I have to break you."

Hardison raised a hand to touch Eliot's shoulder, then let it fall.

Without another word, he turned and left the house.

The sound of the door closing was very loud. And sounded so very final.

Eliot finally let himself sink down to the floor, his arms wrapped around his head again. The headache was actually easing up, now, some combination of painkillers and silence, but he didn't get up again until Val started scratching at the back door to be let back in.