Note: This was written for the special February Challenge over on H/c Bingo. The prompts used were PTSD, Body Hatred, Rape/recovery, and Werewolf: Silver poisoning.
Other than a special fic set in this universe (but not actually in the storyline) this is the last story I plan on writting for this verse. That being said it's entierly possible I will return if the plot bunnies return to this.

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, non-con, dub-con, and underage (17) dub-con. While none of it is actually shown this story deals with the fall out.

How Hard it Rains

The rain against the window had a pattern. If he listened to it longer maybe he could identify it.

Eliot sat in Nate's apartment, a good fifteen feet from the window, but that didn't mean he couldn't hear it.

One of the first things he'd learned after he turned was how to focus in on one sense or one thing, blocking everything else out, like he'd learned to the times he was captured (tortured), focusing on little things like the steady rhythm of water dripping into the corner of his cell.

Very like that.

He could get lost in that.

"Eliot." Alpha, the voice registers in his head. "I need you to look at me."

When did he look away? Obediently, always obedient these days, Nate was human but the bond was more than strong enough to make up for that, Eliot pulled his focus back to sight and focused his eyes on Nate.

Sophie said something. He only registered the concern. Something in him moved to reassure her but he felt…

"Eliot, it's okay. Hold still." Nate proved once more that he understood how to give the kind of orders a werewolf couldn't refuse. The touch of power in that order, his voice pitched at just the right tone to be sure the command penetrated the fog of his mind and stuck.

Eliot wouldn't move until told.

"This is going to hurt," Nate warned needlessly. The pain was eating at the back of Eliot's mind, tearing into what remaining control he had. He'd gotten lost in the raindrops for a reason.

Eliot couldn't move to tell Nate to just get it over with, but his Alpha got the message.

The hydrochloric acid hit the open wound and it was only the power in Nate's command that kept Eliot from arching off the bed and attacking both of them. He knew, on some level, that the acid would break down any traces of silver still in the wound. The best cure for the aftereffects of silver poisoning in werewolves was dousing the wound after the bullet was removed. As much as it hurt, it couldn't kill him and he'd heal from it within days instead of never.

It did not help the part of his brain that registered the pain as an attack.

The rest of what registered in his brain in that moment made him feel sick.

He tried to breathe through the agony, focus on the sound of rain against the windows, focus on the hands brushing through his hair. Sophie's, from the feel of them.

His mind was working slow. Even with the treatment it would take time for the effects of the silver poisoning to fully fade.

"Try to relax," Sophie told him, the edge order the only reason it registered.

He'd been meaning to talk to Nate and Sophie about being careful how they phrased things but it never seemed to matter enough to bother with the awkward conversation that would ensue.

Maybe he was just reluctant to let them know even a casual statement was registering in his instincts these days as something he couldn't resist.

The prospect of them knowing they had that kind of power was far worse than their accidental misuse of it.

Eliot turned his head slowly, trying to make his eyes focus on Sophie, the tension in his body easing slightly.

Somewhere out there Nate was getting water ready to rinse out the acid. "That's it. Relax. It'll make this easier."

Eliot was almost grateful for the next jolt of pain. It gave him a cover for closing his eyes, taking a sharp breath, and willing the darkness to take him under before…

oOo

They were in the middle of what had been an easy con. Sophie was playing the part of an heiress and Eliot had gone in as her assistant and body guard. The mark, Henry Smith was falling almost too quickly, the con going almost too well.

And then during one of their last meetings, Sophie sitting with the mark in his office going over some numbers, Smith asked Eliot to pour them both some water, joking about how it may be five o'clock somewhere but he liked to stay sharp for business.

Eliot had growled slightly to himself about being treated like a servant, distracted and frustrated more than he should have allowed himself even if there was no sign of danger, but picked up the pitcher to serve them.

Seconds later the water was spilled across the desk and floor, a sound closer to a bark or howl than cry escaping Eliot as he gripped his hand, blisters already appearing across it like he'd handled red hot metal.

The pitcher was made out of silver.

The mark was the first one to recover from the surprise.

"Have your dog stand down," Smith told Sophie before hitting a button on his phone. "James, please send someone with whatever's necessary to take care of a burn to my office. One of my associates had an accident with the pitcher."

"Right away, Sir," the Butler's dissociated voice replied before Smith turned his attention back to Sophie.

She had resisted the urge to go to Eliot. He was her bodyguard, her assistant, but not her character's friend. As much as she seemed to want to she couldn't make a fuss and Eliot knew it wasn't that bad. With his werewolf healing, the burns would be gone in little more than a day or two.

Still, he knew when they got back to the apartment later both she and Nate, and probably the rest of the pack, would insist on him staying to make sure he was taken care of, using the pretense that silver was a serious deal for werewolves to try to get him to stay.

Eliot let the servant who'd come to look after his hand do their job, listening to the conversation between Sophie and the mark continue as if it were as natural as anything that her bodyguard was a werewolf.

It was an interesting world he lived in.

He was looking forward to later.

oOo

It was still raining when he woke up.

For a while Eliot just lay there, listening to it, drifting, not trying to move or think or be.

He was better at that than most of the team would guess and he'd gotten a lot better at it since he was turned.

He could feel the wolf in his mind, curled up, almost like it was curling around him, soft whimpers just barely audible in his mind.

He didn't know if the wolf was trying to protect him or seek protection. There was too much overlap and mixing between them lately for him to be certain anymore. Sometimes he wondered if they'd just eventually completely merge. Jacob said it happened with those who grew up as werewolves but rarely for adults.

A hand ran through his hair and he shifted. He recognized Sophie's perfume. Recognized the feel of her skin and fingers, the feel of her weight on the bed next to him and her presence. His wolf always recognized the presence of his alphas.

Slowly Eliot opened his eyes, registering the fact they were alone. He could distantly smell traces of Nate, he was probably still in the apartment and definitely still in the building, but not here.

"Nate's sorting out some details for the wrap up. Hardison and Parker are in the apartments they have here." Sophie told him, probably sensing his confusion. Or perhaps knowing that if he didn't remember how he got here his first question would be the well being of the rest of the pack. "And I thought we might have a talk."

Eliot slowly sat up, holding his injured torso. He'd been shot twice with silver bullets but they'd missed anything important and now that they'd been given proper treatment he would recover almost as quickly as if they'd been normal rounds. In a week he'd be left with little more than flesh wounds. In two there wouldn't even be a scar to show for this mishap.

At least not a physical one.

"What's there to talk about?" He only half growled. He was frustrated but there was no reason to further anger his alphas. "I fucked up. The con went sideways 'cause I couldn't do my job."

"That wasn't your job!" Sophie said with force, moving closer, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You're our hitter, not ou-"

She stopped, cutting herself off, her hand leaving his arm and he cursed himself. He knew why she'd let go. He'd flinched. He, a supposedly world class hitter *before* he'd been turned into a werewolf, had flinched when a close friend, lover, human, civilian, had touched him.

Because she was his alpha and angry and he'd been expecting her to hit him.

His job was to not flinch. His job was to take the punishment and punch back.

"Eliot." Her voice was gentle, anger gone, like she was trying to calm a spooked Parker or some fucking client. "Eliot I want you to look at me."

He wasn't meeting her eyes. He knew she was more than skilled enough to figure out that he stopped making eye contact with them when they'd done something to trigger the conditioning Jacob had done to his wolf.

And him.

He forced himself to look up, to meet her eyes.

"I'm not angry at you," Sophie stated. "Nate isn't angry at you. He's angry at himself. We should have never let you try. There's a line somewhere and…" She sighed, folding in on herself a little, settling next to him and letting him break eye contact. "I don't care if you've done it before. I don't care if I've done it before. We're supposed to protect you, not use you."

Silence. The rain had a pattern. If he wanted to he could lose himself in it again. Put off the rest of this conversation for a while longer.

But he hadn't changed so much he'd run from a fight. Not one he'd have to face eventually anyway.

"You've done it before?"

Sophie stared toward the window. She smelled calm. But Eliot knew she could hide her emotions even from him.

"I was seventeen and in a bad situation the first time. It was the best way out. Now? I'm a Grifter. I do what I have to, to sell the con."

"To sell the con," Eliot repeated. "To get the job done."

oOo

"Please, Julian, take a seat. Someone will be by with the papers for your employer momentarily."

Eliot was uncomfortable. He was here for the final stage of the con, picking up papers on behalf of Sophie's cover. The mark was sitting at his desk, watching him with interest.

Eliot knew that the man knew about werewolves, enough to recognize Sophie was dominant to him, or at the very least had control over him. Enough to know about silver and who even knew what else. The wolf in Eliot's head was telling him there was trouble coming. That this man was too curious, knew too much, that it could only end badly.

But there was the con to finish. After this Eliot didn't have to have anything to do with this man.

If he tried really hard maybe he could just convince himself he was uncomfortable playing Julian again, or maybe just weirded out by having to play him next to Sophie instead of Nate and Tara.

"You know I've studied your kind," Smith said, standing slowly, walking to loom over Eliot. He fought to stay in character. It would not do to have his wolf rear up and prove to this man a beta was only submissive to the alpha they chose. "They say a dominant enough human can hold power over a submissive wolf. That's what's happening with your mistress, isn't it?"

Eliot held back another growl, Sophie's voice in his ear telling him to stay in character oddly calming.

The man reached out, gripping a handful of Eliot's hair, pulling, forcing his head back to show neck. It was like the way the man was looming over him, that sticky smooth purr to him voice, a human overconfidence, trying to prove that they're the most dominant being in the room while mistaking a Wolf for a lapdog.

The wolf itched to just show this worthless scrap of life just how incorrect his assumption was.

"Eliot, can you ride this out?" Nate asked, the wording as a question on purpose. "Or figure out some way to make him back down without throwing the character?"

Smith took insult quickly and did not let it go. They all knew this was a delicate situation that could easily end up with Smith throwing Eliot out and refusing to do business with Sophie until Eliot was properly disciplined. It would add days to the con and complications.

The rule of any con was that every day and every complication was a chance for something else to go wrong.

"Sir, my employer sent me here to do business," Eliot stated, his voice even. "I am here to pick up her papers."

"Well then," Smith said. "I suppose then I'll just have to insist we do a bit of business before I'll give you the papers." The hand let go and petted through his hair. "It'd be a shame to let you go through here so quickly. I've always been… curious."

Two men, servants from their clothes but they had the very distinctive stance of security men, entered the room and Eliot reached for some way out of this short of breaking his cover.

"Eliot. What's going on?" Nate asked, like Eliot could answer.

"You will go with these two men," Smith said, his voice pitched deeper, the command obvious. There was even some force of will behind it but it fell away before really even touching Eliot. He was a Beta who had two Alphas he shared a strong bond with. It would take a very dominant werewolf to force him to do something he didn't want to.

This pampered housecat that thought himself a lion was no threat.

"You will go with these two men and you will wait for me where they leave you."

"Eliot, go with them." Nate told him. "If things start coming apart you can leave but try to ride this out. Sophie and I are on our way."

oOo

"Eliot, I signed up for this," Sophie said. "I chose to become what I am. I chose marks and strategies, balancing the risks and rewards for my entire career. Just like you took any job with the knowledge you might have to kill or be killed, I did my job knowing there were risks."

"Your point?" Eliot asked, still making a mental note to try to figure out some way to find names and knock off the people who'd mess with a seventeen year old.

"You didn't make the same choices I did. You didn't choose this. When Nate asked you to ride this out it went beyond you-"

"You know dungeons exist Sophie," Eliot said; frustration, anger, fire he both was and wasn't used to flashing up. "You know what they are, you know what they're for, and you know I've seen the insides of plenty." Sophie didn't try to mask the horror or pity on her face. "What makes you think what happened is anything new to me?"

"It is," Sophie said simply. "At least it was different."

Eliot growled and looked away, she was looking at him like a victim. Did she really think…?

Why wouldn't she.

"If it wasn't different. If… if this was just like all those times before… would we be having this conversation?"

oOo

Eliot knew before they reached the top of the stairs, before they turned down the hallway, before the guards opened a door and let Eliot into a bedroom.

He waited for the door to lock, waited for…

What was he going to tell Nate? 'It seems our mark has a kink for werewolves that he's trying to force me to play along with? Can I get outta here? Mind if I protect my non-existent virtue at the cost of the job?'

Was he even surprised? It was the whole reason they were here. Their clients had been a maid and gardener here, fired and ruined after their sixteen year old daughter rejected Smith's advances and tried to take it to court when he pressed the issue.

Sure, Eliot was about as far from a sixteen year old girl as you could get but…

"Eliot what's going on?" Nate.

"I think I can ride this out," Eliot told him. It wasn't like he had anything left to protect. He did what he had to, to survive. He'd always done that. It wasn't like he'd never been forced before. Hell even Jacob…

"What's going on?" Nate insisted again, probably catching the hitch in his breathing.

He couldn't think about that now. It wouldn't do him any good to think about Jacob or… he would just let this happen. It didn't matter. The job would go on without another hitch and he wouldn't be burned and they wouldn't have to send in Parker.

Parker looked a lot more like a sixteen year old girl.

"I'm going to have to go off coms for a little while," Eliot stated, trying to sound calm.

"Tell me what's going on." Nate was not impressed.

"Smith is convinced he's a dominant personality and it looks like he's gonna try to steal me from Sophie. I can ride this out, just kinda don't think you all wanna hear it happening."

"Oh, hell no," Hardison started before Nate cut him off.

"Eliot, this is your call. If it goes too far get out of there. We'll be there in twenty minutes."

Outside the door Eliot heard Smith telling the guards to wait down the hall.

"Take me off com, now," he hissed. He didn't want them to hear this. He could do whatever he needed to, but apparently some part of him didn't want them to know how far he would go. How easily he could go.

Smith opened the door before he got an answer from Nate.

He was too busy playing along to listen for the coms being cut off. Too busy biting down the wolf's distaste for this, feeling hands not his alpha's peeling off his shirt, telling him to…

oOo

The rain was falling harder, the pattern had meaning. It sounded almost like the water of Nate's shower against the glass door…

Eliot shook off the memory, pushed it away, struggled to get to his feet. He was gross, sweat soaked, bloody, dirty in more ways than that. He could almost feel it smearing off him onto the sheets of his alpha's bed.

"Eliot. What's wrong?" Sophie asked, worried.

"'m taking a shower." Eliot told her. "I'm dirty. I'll feel more human if I can wash up."

He wasn't OCD or anything but one of the things he always hated about getting injured is how grimy he'd get, waiting to heal up enough to clean himself. Thankfully as a werewolf that period was mercifully short.

"Hot shower'd do me good." The words were out of his mouth before he realized he'd accidentally cut Sophie off.

His feet hit the floor but he didn't stand, his head was swimming. He was practically naked but the thought of getting to the bathroom, getting undressed, and actually getting into the shower…

He flinched again when Sophie touched his arm. His awareness of his surroundings seemed to have been more affected by the silver poisoning than he'd thought.

Yeah. The silver poisoning. He'd go with that theory.

"Eliot, you should rest for a little while longer," Sophie cautioned. "I know your werewolf healing's much quicker but you were shot less than ten hours ago." When he didn't move she added, "Twice."

"Sophie, I just… need a quick shower. It'll make me feel better."

Sophie gave a disbelieving sigh. "Stay in bed," she said. Where Nate's tone changed and Eliot could almost feel the force of will behind his commands, Sophie's were pure silk, the force feather light but strong as steel and precise enough he couldn't find a loophole to crawl through. "We need to talk about this."

"We don't," Eliot insisted. "I know I messed up. I know I need to rest up so I can help ya'll fix this." The thought he'd been trying to push down, trying to convince the wolf he'd just been… "I know I let that… man… touch what ain't his but it was for a job an' if I could just wash his smell off me it might help you both feel a little calmer."

Sophie made a noise and grabbed his arm, loosening the hold when he flinched. "His smell is on you?" Sophie asked, adjusting her hold to make it clearer she was helping him stand. When Eliot gave her a look, she added with a gentle smile: "We aren't all werewolves here Eliot. Nate and I don't smell anything but a bit of sweat and blood."

"Then why are ya suddenly so keen on getting me to the showers?" Eliot asked, though he had to admit the smell of sweat and blood had never really appealed to him in his human days either.

"Because…" Sophie paused her words for a moment, seeming to make up her mind as they crossed into the bathroom, settling him down on the seat in the shower they may or may not have gotten for these situations, and making sure he was meeting her eyes. "Because Smith tried to rape you, and you've been laying in there this whole time smelling him on you and I doubt that's really helping you work through what happened."

Eliot shook his head. "I… he didn't." He stumbled to reject the wording, he wasn't sure why. "I could have stopped it. Hell I coulda said no. I chose to go along with it 'cause it was the easiest way outta there without getting hurt more."

He stopped speaking and swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He was self aware enough to recognize the more tacked onto that sentence was a slip of a sort other than the tongue. He was smelling Jacob on his skin now.

"You slept with Jacob to stop him from beating you," Sophie said, her voice mercifully void of emotion. "Was it just the night you left or before that?"

"I don't-" Eliot leaned his head back against the wall behind him, eyes shutting tight, trying to just block out… everything. "Please, Sophie, don't…"

He wasn't going to go there. Wasn't going to think about it. There was just…

oOo

It happened too fast, before he could stop it, before he could even warn anyone…

One second Smith had been pulling his shirt off, hands trailing toward Eliot's waistband the next Eliot was seeing Jacob, was waiting for the beating to start, but the pitiful show of will Smith had been trying to exert was nothing to Eliot when he was calm.

It could hold him no more than a peashooter could stop a bear.

Smith was down in the space of a heartbeat, claw marks across his face and chest a testimony to how out of control Eliot was. Guards broke in a moment later but Eliot was moving, breaking for the window, not even feeling the bullets until he was out it and halfway out of the grounds.

It all got hazy after that, though he still, clearly, remembered Nate telling him to lie down and wait for them, remembers fighting the power because he was half delusional from the silver embedded in his body and trauma he was trying his hardest to just forget.

oOo

"It's different," Sophie said, and when did she get to be right in front of him, the wash cloth trailing over his torso, cleaning between bandages and wiping away that smell, feeling so good. Her scent was all around him now, even when he closed his eyes he could still all but see it. Something in him eased a little bit, the wolf calming under the closeness and care of an Alpha. "Isn't it?"

Eliot blinked at her, he'd lost the train of their conversation somewhere along the line.

She smiled sadly at him before gently touching his neck. The first claiming mark she'd made had faded weeks ago but she renewed it when it did, the touch of alpha magic they got from him ensuring it stayed a good deal longer than his normal healing rate would allow.

The last had faded before this job started but he almost felt like her fingers were skimming the ghost of it.

"I've seen the signs, but we always figured we'd have time to get you to open up, help you heal." She shook her head. "We should have known better than to let that sort of thing fester."

Eliot looked down to his hands. There was still blood under his nails.

"I've been raped before," he stated, staring at the blood like it had meaning, or like it could be proof of something. "It's not about attraction. It's about anger. It's about dominating someone. Control. Worried the new guy in cell block 3 is going to cause waves? Send your gang in to break him down. Want information? Want to make sure your new employee knows his place?" He couldn't control the violence. But he put up a fight at least.

He fought back and even if he lost he knew, at least, he didn't break. That had kept him sane. It made him angry instead of hopeless.

"Why is this…" He didn't even know what he was asking.

"Different?" Sophie supplied, hands going still, resting over his. "I don't know. I can guess, but I don't live in your world. Why do you think it's different?"

"I couldn't…" he started. He hadn't been able to fight back, but that wasn't right. Maybe this time he hadn't been able to fight back, but he had control, he had a choice, and he'd freaked out because of a flashback to Jacob. With Jacob he had fought back in the end, or tried. It had been hard. For all the violence in him, attacking someone he loved had been against his nature before the wolf and had become almost physically impossible after.

Someone he…

Jacob had always been the catalyst for confusing emotions. The Need Eliot hated but was still intimately part of being a werewolf had found an answer in Jacob. He'd brought love, and safety but also restrictions and confines and…

Pain.

There was something broken in him that love and pain were so closely connected in his head that the former coming without the later was half of what was keeping him holding Nate and Sophie at arm's length.

That if he was really honest with himself he knew that broken bit of him was why he'd stayed with Jacob so damn long.

A part of him hadn't really believed there was anything wrong with their relationship.

"I loved him," Eliot said, forcing his eyes up to meet Sophie's, defiantly, not letting... "And he beat me until I'd stay still long enough for him ta fuck me." Eliot stated, words he had never really thought he'd speak before, his voice losing power until it was barely a whisper. "And I still…" He shook his head. "A part of me still looks for him every time I go for a run."

He surrendered to Jacob. He let Jacob break him.

He stared at the wall, listening for the rain. It was too far.

But he could hear hints of sounds from below, the team, his pack.

His chest hurt, and he knew it wasn't the silver. His head was foggy and he knew it wasn't the silver.

He just…

"Eliot I want you to listen and really, try, to pay attention for a bit," Sophie said, drawing his attention back to her. "Jacob? Just because you didn't fight right then doesn't mean you gave your consent, and doesn't make you the victim." She gave him a small smile. "Or have you forgotten who sent Jacob running out of town with his tail between his legs?"

He looked at her, trying to comprehend, trying to get her to understand, trying…

"Eliot you once told me you can't control the violence. You couldn't control what Jacob did. All you can control is this." She lightly tapped the skin over his heart. "This is what you can control." Her hand moved up to cup his neck. "And I know you got mixed up, and I know it hurts, but Jacob's gone. You made the choice to walk away. You fought back when it mattered. He didn't break you." She placed a chaste kiss on his forehead and he closed his eyes, willing the words to sink in, take hold.

Heal wounds and replace words left to fester for too long.

He didn't suddenly feel better. There was no sudden relief and the weight of the world didn't budge from the spot on his shoulders where it had rested for the past twenty-odd years.

But she settled her hand on his shoulder and he didn't flinch.

It was a little victory, but he'd learned a long time ago to take what victories he could.

An hour later, clean, exhausted, his head only marginally clearer than before, Eliot stirred from the light doze he'd slipped into. He registered Nate had slipped into bed on the side of him that was not already occupied by Sophie. Nate kept a space between them, careful of Eliot's wounds, physical and otherwise.

With a low growl Eliot turned, wincing at the pull to his injuries, but not stopping until he'd given Nate a glare and tugged at his arm.

There were some (many) issues they needed to work out but he was tired and hurting and even if his human mind was confused he'd let the wolf's instincts lead him in this.

And the wolf felt safest, rested most easy, when he was barely more than a breath away from his alphas.

He closed his eyes and listened, the rain outside was coming down harder, but if he focused on his alpha's breathing he almost couldn't hear it.