Notes: This is a short series I'm doing for my Hurt/Comfort Bingo Square over on Live Journal. It will eventually be Nate/werewolf!Eliot/Sophie but will contain mentions of Eliot/OMC.
This chapter is for the Orphans and Runaways Square.

Those Who Were Lost

In retrospect he probably shouldn't have taken this case.

No. Someone had to take this case and there wasn't exactly another team he could just toss this one over to.

But there were days…

They'd made it to Nowhere'Vil Middle America, a tiny town not ten miles from an abandoned commune recently reinhabbited by what seemed to be a cult with mostly orphans and runaways as members, a very well connected leader, and a tendency to move from town to town leaving a trail of dead kids.

Then they were sitting in their hotel, working through the final stages of planning for the con and Nate had just outlined the beginning of the mark's downfall as they proved to his followers that he was the one killing dissenters when Eliot cut in.

"They already know." He crossed his arms but didn't move away from the wall he was leaning against, unphased by the confused and disbelieving looks they were giving him. "If they don't most wouldn't care."

"What do you mean wouldn't care?" Sophie asked.

"These were street kids. They'd lost everythin', home, family, safety, if they ever had it ta begin with and this nutjob used the promise of a second chance to lure them in. He tells them they're a family, gives them something close enough to a home that they take it, makes them feel like they're part of something. They develop a pack mentality, nothing but the group matters, everything they have, even their identities is tied into it. He'd teach them to see someone trying to leave as a threat." He let out a long breath. "And for them…. Without the group they're nothing. So a threat to the group…"

There was a beat of silence, the words sinking in, and an awkward sort of quiet settling when they fell a little too close to home.

Yeah Nate knew taking a job about a group of orphans and runaways would be a bad idea.

His own group was made out of mostly orphans and runaways.

They planned through the next step and ended the meeting, Sophie drifting over to sit next to him off to the side.

They watched, not even bothering to follow the words said, as an argument broke out between Hardison and Eliot, Parker inevitably being drawn into the mix.

The volume soon rose and the back and forth sped up and Eliot was threatening bodily harm.

But Nate didn't really bother to track it, because the dialogue didn't match the scene he was watching.

Eliot and Hardison were sitting together on the couch shoulders touching, Parker perched on the coffee table feet mixed in with Eliot and Hardison. Hands gestured but seemed to brush against one another, or reach out and make contact that was never nearly as harsh as the tone of the words being spoken suggested and even as Eliot threatened them both they leaned closer to him.

Nate ignored the words and in those actions he saw them unconsciously expressing agitation from the reminder of past isolation when they had nothing and seeking to remind themselves and each other that though they had once been lost they were now found.

"It's ironic." Sophie muttered next to him. "We aren't so different in the end. A bunch of orphans and runaways." She paused a moment before adding. "Or those running from themselves… the longer we're all together the more we tie who we are to this group." Her voice dropped a little softer and Nate wasn't sure if it was on purpose or she was simply thinking as she muttered, eyes tracking the other three as Parker all but climbed onto Eliot's lap to try to get the remote from Hardison. "The more the family becomes everything. Even if most of us would never admit to it."

"Ironic?" Nate half asked, only partially seeing the irony in their group taking down the abusive head of another such group. He sensed that wasn't her only feeling.

"And somewhat concerning." She mused.

His eyes lingered on Parker now settled quite comfortably on the couch with the boys, for a moment longer before drifting up to the picture of their mark with his arm around a fifteen year old girl, his mind turning back to the teams accounts of the job that put him in jail.

And Parker almost casual description of nearly dropping Tara off a roof when she thought Tara had betrayed the team.

His eyes track back to the three, track back to Eliot, his thoughts turning as he mutters in response. "Somewhat."