Finding A New Road

Part Three – A New Road, A New Life

Epilogue

Sophie stepped out of the cab, checked her watch. She was early, not by too much, but she knew where to go, where Eliot would be. She headed through the grounds to the open garden, slowing her steps as she saw the group before her on the grass. It was a good sight; one that she hadn't thought they would achieve. Eliot was standing in front of a group of eight people, leading them smoothly through some simple moves. He had a patience now that had grown out of fighting his own frustrations for so long. It had taken so much work for him to regain his balance to a sufficient enough degree to be able to resume his own katas, but the discipline had been a good focus for him.

Sophie looked round at the surroundings, impressed as always with the facility that Eliot had chosen. She'd fought him, tooth and nail at first, determined that he would stay with her and be looked after 'properly' but in truth what he had now was far better than she could ever have offered.

There were days when she wondered if he would ever leave, make a home of his own, but the reality was that for all of his improvements, each tiny element of recovery, he was still vulnerable and here he had a safe haven and a family of sorts. The people here knew him as a friend, a member of the community. He had freedom to be himself and live his life at his own pace and when things were more difficult, there were people to help and medical staff on hand for the occasions he needed them.

For the most part his health was now under control. The times when things would go wrong were more predictable. A cold could be so much more as it had been when he'd stayed at Sophie's, but he had learned to recognize the symptoms and the staff of the facility were also accustomed to watching out over all their patients for similar symptoms. If Eliot's speech so much as slipped, they'd pay closer attention to him, check in on him more often. Anything to make sure that he was doing okay.

Sophie sat down on a bench to enjoy the tranquility for a time. She looked up as a figure blocked the sunlight, tensing when she recognized one of the administrators, Mr. Sawyer. "Do you mind if I join you for a moment, Ms. Deveraux?"

She nodded, gesturing briefly to the seat alongside, barely waiting until the man was seated before she asked, "Is there a problem? Is something the matter with Eliot?"

"No, not at all, Eliot's doing real well. He's a man with remarkable determination, Ms Deveraux, as I'm sure you know."

"Yes, yes, he is. Looking at him now . . . there was a time when I'd never have believed I'd see this," she waved in direction of Eliot and the group he was working with, watching as Eliot moved from one person to the next making slight adjustments to their posture or offering a few words of praise.

"I need to talk to you about what may be a delicate matter, ask your advice before I speak to Eliot."

"If it's money, you don't need to bother him with it. I can make up any deficit in the required amount."

"No," Mr. Sawyer said, hurriedly. "No, not money or not a shortfall anyway. I have been contacted by a gentleman who says he is close to Eliot, was close to Eliot. He is not on the list of guests that Eliot gave us when he first came here. Eliot has never mentioned him. He was rather insistent that we made arrangements for him to be able to visit and has said he has to discuss a financial matter with Eliot."

"A financial matter? And did this man give a name?" Sophie asked warily.

"He left a card as well. Nathan Ford, an insurance agent. When Eliot came to us, papers were signed giving you authority in official matters where it was felt he either couldn't make a clear decision on his own or where he would be better to have advice. While it's possible that Eliot at the moment might feel that he could manage this independently and we would support him in that, it's also something that, per his instructions, you should be aware of."

"Did Nathan give any indication what it was in relation to?" Sophie asked bitterly.

"No . . . we assumed the insurance . . ."

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure that was what he intended." She sighed and closed her eyes as she thought for a while. "He isn't Eliot's insurance agent. He's . . . yeah, I don't know what to say. I want to say that we shouldn't let him come within miles of this place, but it needs to be Eliot's decision. I'll talk to Eliot about it over dinner."

"You'll let me know?"

"One of us will, yes. If he calls in the meantime –"

"We can delay, that's not a problem. Will you want to be present if Eliot agrees to a meeting?"

"I'd like to be here, but not necessarily with them, I suppose. If it comes to that, I mean Eliot might say no." There was a hopeful note to her voice.

"Ms. Deveraux, the agreement was that if you felt Eliot was at risk . . ."

"No, this isn't what Eliot meant by that. He's not ill, he's not unable to make a decision about this. I have to respect that. It would be different if he was having a bad spell, but he's not. He's doing well." Her eyes settled back on Eliot and the group he was with. "He's doing really well."

"He is. He's achieved an amazing degree of recovery. For the most part he doesn't need to be here. It's those rare times . . ."

"And that is one of the reasons he stays. He likes it here, he's found a place he feels he belongs, where people aren't judging him badly for the things that are still hard and where he knows he's safe if something starts to go wrong. He likes being able to do this, to help other people, help them begin to improve as much as they can. He has things to offer here, things that he couldn't offer out in the 'real world'. He's good at this, but he couldn't do this for just anybody. He wouldn't get this level of acceptance."

"There are people outside, places that –"

Sophie cut him short, "For all the good people out there, he'd meet a few assholes. He doesn't need to deal with that in his life. Not anymore."

The group below them on the grass was breaking up, the people all saying goodbye and thanking Eliot, some of them hugging him and others shouting their thanks as they walked away. Eliot picked up a bottle of water and took a long swig before turning and seeing Sophie. He raised his hand in greeting and began to make his way towards her.

Mr. Sawyer stood, thanked Sophie for her time and greeted Eliot familiarly as he passed on his way back to the administrative building. "Ssomething wrong?" Eliot asked as he reached Sophie, casting a glance back at the administrator's retreating back.

"No, everything's fine, El. I'll tell you what we talked about over dinner. I believe that's what you promised me, wasn't it?" She smiled affectionately.

"'kay. I-I need to grab a shower, but I've prepared everything. W-well, e-everything except the ssalad. It won't t-take me long."

Sophie rested a hand on his arm, "El, we've got time, I'm not in any rush." He smiled back and nodded, opening the gate and holding it so she could go through first. "Always such a gentleman," she said with a laugh.

He flushed with embarrassment. "It's a good thing, El." He nodded and started to follow her down the path to his house.

"Y-you heard from Hardison or-or Parker?" he asked a few moments later.

"I think they're working their way around the world, taking in the sites and taking some souvenirs to have at home."

He laughed, "I c-can imagine. Is the L-Louvre missing anything yet?"

"Not yet, but it's probably only a matter of time."

Eliot didn't take long in the shower, but Sophie poured herself a glass of wine and washed a few of the vegetables ready for the salad while she waited. She could smell the cooking lasagna and knew it would taste as every bit as good as it used to. There were differences in the way that Eliot cooked now, strategies that he'd learned to help keep track of time and measurements. He had recipes written down so that he knew how far through his task he was, there were timers set for different items and he needed more time to make his preparations. He'd also finally agreed to make use of a gadget that Hardison had found to help with fine chopping, something he still found difficult. At first, Sophie had wanted him to not even try after he managed to cut himself a few times, but gradually Eliot had accepted that he couldn't try to work at the speeds he used to have and that he had to accept that 'finely chopped' either wasn't as fine as it used to be, or was done with the gadget.

Eliot reappeared a few minutes later in a pair of jeans and a shirt. 'Smart casual' was the first thing that sprung to Sophie's mind. "It's g-good to see you, Soph'," he said as he made his way into the kitchen.

"Your session looked like it was going well," Sophie said. He smiled and nodded, pulling out two knives out of the knife block and offering one to Sophie, who accepted it and reached for a tomato. "Slices or chunks?"

Eliot shrugged, "D-doesn't matter. It's j-just for the salad."

Sophie smiled and began to chop the tomato in front of her. She didn't say anything but she was impressed with how much Eliot's speech had improved. He still had a slight stammer, but for the most part that was all that remained noticeable of his speech difficulties.

"Have you had a good week?" he asked. "Bought anything new?"

She laughed, "Well, as you asked . . ." She gave a twirl, letting her skirt spin out.

"N-nice shoes. Manolo Blahnik . . . Jimmy Choo's . . ."

"You know me so well, sweetheart. Jimmy Choo's this time. You like them?"

"Perfect on you. Not my th-thing," he smirked. "They make my ass look big."

She helped him carry the salad to the table, taking her seat as he held her chair for her then returned to fetch the lasagna. He served her before leaving her to help herself to salad as he poured her wine then sat down himself.

"So you've got quite a group now for your T'ai Chi. It looked like they were enjoying themselves."

"It's g-going well. Everybody's improving, e-even if it's only slowly. I understand though. I th-think they get that I know how it feels and that you just h-have to keep trying. Some things will get easier. Ssome things . . ." He didn't finish the sentence. "You have to b-build something n-new."

"Yes," she agreed, understanding all the things he wasn't saying along with those he was.

They talked for a while, with Eliot asking her questions about what she had been doing before the conversation drifted back to Hardison and Parker and their trip and from there to their own memories of some of the places they had been.

The meal was finished and the table cleared, the two of them moving to sit in more comfort with cups of coffee before Sophie broached the subject of Nathan. "Mr. Sawyer was saying he's received a call from Nathan asking to come and visit you."

"Oh? He didn't say."

"Nathan told him he was an insurance agent. I think he was concerned about the agreement you had them sign," she smiled. "He wasn't sure what insurance it was in relation to and we can safely guess that Nathan wouldn't have given anything away."

"Is he coming?" Eliot asked, one hand rubbing against the denim of his jeans, giving away his anxiety. "What does he want?"

"He only gets to visit if you give permission. As for what he wants, I have no idea what he wants this time."

Eliot nodded and the two of them sat in silence for a while as he seemed to consider what Nathan might want. "If he wants to try again, he's out of luck. I don't want to know any more."

Sophie watched waiting to see if he said anymore.

"Do you have an opinion?" he asked.

"Only that I think you should do what's right for you," she said.

"Soph-," he leaned forward, fell silent and just looked down at his hands for a while. "Fuck!" he pushed himself upwards and moved towards the window, looking out into the grounds beyond, seeing a few people out walking. He felt as Sophie's hand came to rest on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. He turned slowly and apologized.

She frowned, waving away the apology, adding, "You don't have anything to apologize for. He's the one who was in the wrong and you don't have to see him. Tell Sawyer you're not interested in anything he has to say."

"Su-supposing he needs something – supposing he comes here and sees ," he gestured out the window, "this. What will he think? What will he say?"

"El, firstly you owe him nothing. None of us do anymore. Secondly, if you allow him to visit, what is there for him to think? You've found a home, a good one with real friends. You've found somewhere where you can be independent, but when you need help it's there. You have nothing whatsoever to be ashamed of about living here." Eliot seemed about to contradict what she'd said, so she continued, "Do you not want to live here? Do you want to move on?" He shook his head. "Eliot, you've rebuilt your life."

"A-and some of my friendships," he said, taking her free hand.

She pulled him closer with the hand still on his shoulder and the two of them shared a warm embrace.

"If he comes, if I say he can visit, would you . . .?"

"Certainly."

Nathan wasn't sure what to expect as he approached the reception center for the complex where Eliot now lived. It had taken him a while to track him down - when he'd finally decided to look again. He was clean . . . sober now for four hundred and fifty two days, sixteen hours and counting. It was still a battle. The urge to head for a bar, to buy a bottle was always lingering just below the surface. He'd had enough therapy, been to enough meetings to know that nobody thought the answers to his problems were in the bottom of any bottle he would choose to try and find it in.

So he plodded on, day by day, sometimes hour by hour, sober and trying to make himself into somebody who deserved to be alive.

The woman in the reception smiled as he entered. "Good afternoon, can I help you?"

"Yeah. I've come to visit Eliot Spencer."

"Eliot . . . okay, and you are?"

"Nathan Ford."

She smiled again, slightly less relaxed before picking up a phone and pressing a few numbers. When she spoke it was to tell Eliot presumably that he was here. The conversation was brief and when she hung up, she gestured to a set of chairs and said, "If you want to take a seat, Eliot will be along for you shortly."

Nathan sat down and began to look round at his surroundings. He noticed that the center seemed to double as a simple grocery store with a few basic essentials on the shelf. A young woman entered the store side of the shop, through the door that led out into the complex. She walked with a limp, but seemed quite determined. The woman behind the counter greeted her warmly and as the woman made a sign of some sort with her hands, Nathan saw as that too was returned. "B-b-b-bread," the young woman eventually managed to say, backing up the word with a set of hand gestures.

"Bread, Maisie, no problem." The woman behind the counter lifted a couple of loaves from the shelf and held them out for the younger one, Maisie, to choose. She tapped a hand against one and that was set down by the cash register. While the woman serving returned the other loaf to the shelf, Maisie turned away and moved to select other things from the open shelves picking up a couple of oranges and then some milk from the chiller cabinet. Maisie's gaze passed over Nathan for a moment, but it didn't rest as she turned back to her own shopping.

Standing back at the counter again, Maisie said, "A-a-all, th-thank."

"You are doing so well with your speech now, Maisie," the woman praised, beaming. "So let's total that up and it comes to $6.45." Nathan watched Maisie laboriously count out six dollars and then shuffle her fingers backward and forward through some loose change as if she had no idea where to even start before handing over the change to the woman behind the counter. The woman sifted through the coins quickly, lifting out a quarter and saying, "This one's the quarter, remember, Maisie? A quarter is twenty-five cents, so with the quarter we put a ten to make it thirty-five and then another ten to make it forty-five." She helped Maisie return the money to her purse before putting the rest into the cash register.

Nathan felt a stir of panic, supposing this was what Eliot was like now; what would he do then? How could they talk? How could he deal with Eliot if this is what he was like? He'd taken that turn for the worse at Sophie's and had been in the hospital last time Nathan had seen him. He'd been playing it down saying it was nothing, but supposing it had been something; supposing he'd suffered some terrible setback that had stolen all the progress he'd made? Nathan shuddered, looking at the young woman who was now leaving the store, signing her thanks and waving goodbye.

Shit! He felt like an asshole. What right did he have to judge? Yet the thought of Eliot being like that terrified him. He rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, forcing himself to stay where he was and not make a run for it.

"Mmaisie, good to see you today." Nathan looked up at the voice, taking in the first sight of Eliot. The young woman had stopped and was signing something to Eliot. She looked embarrassed, head down and cheeks flushed. Nathan wondered what she'd signed when Eliot replied, "Not today. I-I-I have someone visiting ttoday. T-tomorrow." He backed up his words with his own set of signs and Nathan wondered when Eliot had learned to sign, not remembering any indication of it before.

As Maisie left, Eliot entered the store and headed towards Nathan. Nathan stood up, relieved that he looked so well, so tanned and relaxed. He stepped forward as if to embrace Eliot who stopped dead and didn't come closer. They stood awkwardly for a moment or two before the woman behind the counter broke the silence, "Everything okay, Eliot?"

Nathan saw him turn quickly and nod, his attention never really leaving Nathan, despite the turn of his head. When he spoke it lacked any real warmth, "E-everything's fine. Nnathan was a work associate before . . ."

Nathan dropped his arms. He'd wanted more of a recognition than that, but it seemed unlikely he was going to get it. When Eliot offered a hand to shake, Nathan took it in a firm grip, reluctant to let go until Eliot pulled his hand away. "This way," Eliot said, beginning to walk towards the door that lead into the complex. Nathan followed.

Nathan was surprised as he walked through and saw the spread of buildings beyond surrounding an elegant garden with both open green spaces and beds of flowers. There was plenty of seating as well and people out enjoying the sunshine, some of them sitting, others walking. Nathan took it all in, looking for details, clues that might tell him more about the man Eliot was now.

"It's been a llong time," Eliot broke the silence. "Why now?"

"I . . . I'm sober now."

Eliot snorted, "Y-you said that before."

"Yeah and I fell off the wagon. It's one of the reasons I never came back . . . I knew you couldn't trust me to stay that way. I couldn't trust myself. The first hurdle and I still headed for the bottle."

"And now?" Eliot seemed curious.

"Now is different. I've been sober for four hundred and fifty two days. I could tell you the number of hours and minutes as well, but that probably isn't that reassuring. I get it . . . now anyway. I went for help, realized I really can't do this on my own. Even with help, it's a struggle some days." Nathan looked a little embarrassed by that.

"Today?"

Nathan nodded. He sighed, "I have a sponsor. I do the meetings. I'm doing it by the book this time."

"Good for you," Eliot's voice was quiet and Nathan wasn't sure what to read into the words. They walked in silence for a while, a few people they passed greeted Eliot warmly and he responded, clearly at home and relaxed with them in a way that he wasn't with Nathan. A few of them looked curiously at Nathan but no one spoke to him or even acknowledged him beyond a simple greeting .

Nathan looked round seeing the larger central buildings with a variety of people coming and going, a few in suits or uniforms and smaller cottage-like buildings in the distance. There were walking paths leading off in a variety of directions and a few small roads down which the occasional car passed. It was nothing like he'd expected and he was almost lost for words.

He wasn't sure where Eliot was leading him, but the paths were getting quieter and for a moment he presumed that Eliot was taking him to his home, but then they turned a corner and Eliot waved at a seat. Nathan paused, waiting for Eliot to sit, but when he didn't, he sat down himself. That was clearly what Eliot was waiting for, because once Nathan was still, he took his own seat at the opposite end of the bench. He turned his body to face Nathan, positioning his legs in such a way that Nathan couldn't move closer if he were to try.

"Wh-why are you here, Nnate?"

The stammer was still there, but Eliot didn't seem to have the same degree of problem with getting the right words out. Nathan drew a deep breath. "I don't know completely. I mean I wanted to see you, to see how you were doing. I wanted to say I was sorry, but hell there are so many things I need to say sorry to you for, I don't even know where to begin." Nathan's words didn't get any real reaction from Eliot, who continued to just sit and watch silently. "I fucked up so many times, Eliot and I know I came back and I said I was going to be there for you, but . . . I just let you down again. I couldn't do it, I couldn't support you when I couldn't even deal with . . ."

Eliot snorted in disgust, his face a sneer. "I don't need your support."

"No, no you don't. I don't think you ever have really . . . You're a stronger man than I've ever been. I think you're the only one of the team who could have come through this." Nathan looked down at his hands, round the surroundings before he looked back at Eliot. The sneer had gone, but there was no real interest there either. "I treated you badly."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry." Nathan realized it would never be enough and he'd left it too late, there was nothing left to rebuild. "I'm sorry."

"Did you w-want anything else?" Eliot asked.

"You're still in touch with Sophie?"

Eliot nodded curtly.

"If there's ever anything you need, have her contact me. . . I sold the offices and put the money in an account for you, but she said you had it all taken care of. If that should ever change . . ." Nathan stood up. "It's nice here. You're happy here? They look after you?"

Eliot stood up, his face showing his anger. "You're a b-bastard, Nathan . . . " Nathan winced at the accusation. "Is your conscience c-clear now? You ssaid sorry, w-was that enough?" Eliot paced away then turned back and came right up to Nathan, poking him in the chest. "Ssorry isn't enough! Y-you treated me like sh-shit b-before th-the a-accident. Y-you v-vanished afterwards. Y-you w-waltzed b-back in, ssaying ssorry and wanting a-another chance. Y-you didn't even s-stay twenty-f-four hours. You rran." He panted, short of breath, took a step back and tried to get his breathing under control. "A-and you th-think y-you can ssay ssorry and th-that's it!"

"I don't know what else I can give you, Eliot. I can't make up for my mistakes. The only thing I can give you is the apology and the money."

"G-get out. G-get the f-fuck out! I don't w-want your ap-pology and I d-don't want your money!"

"Eliot –" Nathan tried to stop him.

"Th-this is my home a-and you're n-not welcome in it." Eliot turned and walked away without looking back.

Nathan stood watching him go, realizing that this was final. He didn't belong here, Eliot had made that clear. He'd left it too late to try and rebuild any friendship with Eliot and he would have to assume by extension Sophie. He'd hoped to retrieve something but there was one thing he'd learned and that was that he'd made the choice to drink and by extension made the choice to ruin friendships and relationships. Eliot had the right not to accept the apology, whether he liked it or not.

Eliot turned a corner further along the path and moved out sight. He hadn't looked back once and that was all Nathan had needed to know. Sadly he turned back the way he'd come, but knowing he had to accept Eliot's decision didn't make it any easier to do so.

Just as he approached the reception area, he saw two familiar figures exit the building, laughing and smiling and holding hands. He took a step back, making his presence less obvious to the pair who clearly knew where they were going. Parker and Hardison headed straight down the main path, crossing the lawn before turning off down a smaller path towards the houses beyond without noticing him.

He hadn't expected to see them, but then maybe that was just another foolishness on his part. They'd been at the hospital when he'd visited Eliot there; they'd been a big part of why he'd left. They had been real friends to Eliot, something he couldn't ever claim to have been.

There'd been no point in the visit, he'd achieved nothing but a feeling of failure. He wouldn't come back.

Eliot stormed down the path angrily. He didn't know what he'd hoped for, what he thought Nathan could do or say after all this time to make things better, but the word sorry, the offer of money and no attempt at explaining his actions wasn't enough. It wasn't like Eliot didn't know why Nathan had done half of the things he'd done, but he'd needed to hear it from Nathan not just from his own assumptions or Sophie's assurances.

He couldn't work out whether he was more angry with Nathan or with himself. To make matters worse, he'd not only had Sophie come out today but Parker and Hardison were on their way. He'd told them he'd make lunch as if he needed anyone else to see his humiliation now. Where he'd got the idea it could be a reunion, that Nathan could become part of their group again, their team, he couldn't really say.

He'd allowed himself to get so worked up that he'd not been able to control the stammer, hitching and stuttering his way through everything he'd wanted to say, everything getting worse the more he'd allowed himself to lose control. He hated himself right then almost as much as he hated Nathan, blamed himself probably more than Nathan. He leaned against a tree trying to get the rage and hurt under control. He'd brought this on himself.

He heard gravel crunch on the path behind him, the steps slow and tentative, as if someone wasn't sure whether to disturb him or not.

"Eliot?" Sophie's soft voice called. He took a few deep slow breaths, then lifted his head and turned. "Hey," she said, moving closer. "So it didn't work out, there's still the four of us . . . We don't have to . . ."

"I – I – I t-told." He stopped, took another deep breath and tried again, "Ii told him tto go."

"That's okay, Eliot." She reached out a hand to take hold of his where it was clenched at his side. "It's okay. You tried, you agreed to give him the chance. Lots of people wouldn't have done."

"H-he said sssorry." He knew he wasn't hiding the sense of defeat from his voice.

"It's just a word, Eliot. You'd have known if he really meant it." Her voice was soothing, he could feel some of his anger slipping away. His shoulders dropped and he began to relax, opening his hand and letting their fingers entwine. "Eliot, maybe it's time to let go of the past and to be grateful for all that we have now. Good friends, health, home, a future."

He nodded, "I-I'm not the same person anymore." He could feel the tension easing, the ability to say the words he wanted getting easier. He never seemed able to completely rid himself of the stammer, but it wasn't so noticeable when he was relaxed. "I-it wasn't right before, I-I was leaving so . . ."

"So . . ." Sophie smiled at him. "If this had never happened, you'd have left and you'd be on your own. Instead you have us. Speaking of which, Parker and Hardison are here already, so if you feel up to it, we should probably head back before Hardison takes it into his head to 'help' with the cooking!"

Eliot laughed, letting the last of his anger go and accepting all that he now had. It may not have been the health that he had before, but it was better than he'd hoped, than the doctors had said would be possible after the accident. Friends and a family of sorts, more than he'd believed he could have. Safety and security and a home where he was happy to be.

Eliot let Sophie's hand slip from his and instead threw his arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer for a hug. "Thank you," he said, "and maybe we should hurry back, before I don't have a home to go back to!"

He let her go again, his smile wide and as they started down the path, Eliot knew his future was just starting.