warrior of peace

She struggled to elaborate on the question. Did she deserve to be there with her father, reunited after all this time? Did she deserve to be saved at all, 

In desperate need for a shower, hopes of washing away the old her and somehow emerging a woman worthy of what was before her screaming in her mind, she mustered up the energy to pull herself from the bed she’d been lying on. Once she had a spare outfit gathered in her arms, holding them close as if to shield herself, she reached for the doorknob but froze as she gripped it. Once again, she felt as if she was a child again, sleeping over somewhere for the first time and afraid to disturb the parents, and she scoffed at herself after a second. 

Ronnie constantly shuffled between two sides of herself; the first one being the version of her that held every insecurity and doubt she owned, always second guessing her place and her worth as her footsteps left puddles of hatred and guilt behind—and the second one being the version of her that did not give a fuck, because what was there to be afraid of when you let everything roll off your back and do what needs to be done?

She had been the first version for some hours now, and with the cool knob clutched in a whiteknuckle grip, she flipped to the second. She swung the door open and marched out, her socks muffling her steps as she made her way down the hallway, and her heart had just begun to settle in her chest when the bathroom door opened wide.

Sophie walked out casually, running a hand through her hair before she spotted the young woman. Ronnie had frozen in her tracks, but Sophie gave her a kind smile that ever so slightly thawed her. “Hi, Ronnie,” her pleasant accent made its way into her ears and defrosted her just a bit more. “Are you having a quick shower? Your dad was just discussing dinner, are you hungry?”

The familiarity this woman already had with her made her face hot simply because she felt as if she did not deserve it. What the hell was she doing here, putting herself right in the middle of an operation that worked just fine without her? A group where everyone already knew each other and everyone already had their place? She didn’t belong—

“Darling?” A warm hand landed on her shoulder, delicately holding her and interrupting her spiralling mind. Sophie Devereaux had once again found herself acting as the anchor keeping a Ford from drifting away in the tumultuous currents of their thoughts.

“Oh, um—” Ronnie mumbled, blinking a few times at the woman. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Sophie grinned again, yet didn’t withdraw her hand from where it sat. “Are you hungry? We can get dinner after you shower,” she offered, brown eyes taking her in. Even under the cuts and bruises, she could see hints of Nate in his daughter’s face. 

She fought the immediate urge to lie. She was hungry. And if she wanted to move on with her life she needed to get over whatever the first version of her was. “Yeah,” she nodded, voice softly traveling down the hallway. “I, uhm, I’d like that. I’ll try to be quick.” 

“No rush, darling,” Sophie shook her head, finally letting go of her and taking a step around her. “Take your time and we’ll pick somewhere good to welcome you back to Boston!”

Welcome her back to Boston. Even as she stood under the hot water streaming from the showerhead, those hairs still stood on end. What was going to happen if she stayed here? What past crimes would catch up with her, what skeletons in her closet would pop back up? 

And could she tell her father about them? Could she divulge in the fears that were eating away at her? Would he be enough to quell them, assuring her of her safety with him?

Though she smelled much nicer, Ronnie did not emerge from her shower a newer and better version of herself as she had hoped. She remained the same tainted and damaged her that she’d been from the beginning.  

-: ✧ 

“She’s like a scared cat.”

“Parker, you can’t say that—”

“What?! She is!”

After seventy two hours back in Boston, Parker concluded that Ronnie’s skittish nature reminded her of the stray cats that roamed the streets, afraid of the loud sounds and large people around them. 

Nate, while he initially didn’t say anything, felt his heart drop at the comparison. Following Parker’s logic, he could see it; but that didn’t make him feel any better. When he thought back to the Ronnie he knew, she had never been a scared cat, never been a stray lashing out when spooked. 

Sophie had told him it wasn’t fair to her to compare her to her younger self, not after everything that had happened—but he couldn’t help it.

When he looked at her, he saw flashes of the little girl he used to fight with in the mornings, clutching a hairbrush tightly as he begged and bartered with her to just let him brush her damn hair. Flashes of the girl he used to get calls from the school about, citing yet another instance of the girl finding herself in the middle of an altercation on someone else’s behalf. Flashes of the girl who loudly loved her younger brother, toting him around with her cheer friends as if they were a package deal. 

“Cut her some slack, Parker,” he settled on, sighing deeply as he shuffled his feet, a nervous habit he thought he’d rid himself of. 

He didn’t have the full picture, but at the end of the day, he knew Veronica Ford. She didn’t want to be a stray cat, no matter how much life made her think she needed to be one. 

“Hey, guys,” Hardison called out, eyes trained on the screen of his laptop before him. “You might wanna come check this out.”

And interestingly enough, it was something they’d wanted to see. A peculiar case involving a small town boxing scene and a crooked fight promoter. Someone had already gotten hurt, and in Nate's eyes that meant they couldn’t wait any longer before taking this job and making their way to Nebraska. As the team all moved about, spitballing off one another ideas and preparations that needed to be made before their departure, Eliot found himself at Nate’s side.

“So,” he started, still looking forward with his arms crossed. “What about Ronnie?”

“What about her?”

“Is she coming with us?” He elaborated, tossing a hand up as if it was obvious. 

Again, the dark haired man sighed. Was she? Fuck if he knew. “I don’t know yet, Eliot. I guess that’s what I need to figure out next.”

He didn’t really have a plan, somehow coming up with nothing on his short trip from the living room to outside Ronnie’s bedroom door. “Honey?” He called out, hoping his knocks didn’t alarm her too much. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

He heard some shuffling before the door slowly opened and he was met with eyes almost identical to his own. “Hey, Dad,” she greeted softly, smiling at him ever so slightly while taking a step back, allowing him to enter the one space she had begun to regard as her own. 

Scared cat? Maybe not.

“Sorry to bug you,” he started, clearing his throat. He’d never felt this awkward entering her room before, but the distance between them still felt so long, so unfamiliar, that he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. “Just wanted to check in on ya,” he settled down on the newly purchased desk chair, turning it to face her. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m okay,” she answered immediately, taking a seat on the bed once again. The book she had been trying to read lay abandoned on top of the comforter, unable to hold her attention and pull her mind away from her ever consuming thoughts.

“Hmm,” he hummed, not breaking eye contact. He didn’t believe her for a second. “Well, honey, I also wanted to let you know that we just got another case. You want in?”

She didn’t answer for a few moments, lips pursing in thought. Did she want to? Was she ready to put herself in the middle of a con so soon, let alone alongside people she had never worked with before? She didn’t even have any extraordinary skills or anything, that much had been made clear to her; she was a small time grifter and amateur hacker, she knew how to fight but she was no hitter and not much of a mastermind herself, so where would she even fall in this plan?

“Do you even need me?” She questioned instead, narrowing her eyes at him. She knew the answer, with certainty, was no. 

“Actually,” he raised his brows, the inklings of that smug face she knew so well creeping out. “Depending on the specifics, I may just need you. So?”

“Dad,” she deadpanned, shoulders deflating ever so slightly. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” he shook his head, never taking his eyes off of hers. “There have been plenty of times where everything goes wrong because we just needed one more person. If we had just one other person we could trust, we’d have enough moving parts and coverage to get in and get out without any hiccups.”

There was a part of Nate that wanted her to say no. He could see the wheels turning in her head, lips tightly pursed as she thought it over seriously, but that small, selfish part of him wanted her to turn him down so that she would remain within the safety of this home he was building. 

It wasn’t a home before three days ago, but things had drastically changed with his daughter, his only remaining child, reentering his life; and he so desperately wanted this home to be enough to cradle her in safety and warmth just as he had when she was a baby. He was a child himself, but with her bundled in his arms and staring up at him, he knew the rest of his life would be dedicated to protecting the baby who already carried the weight of his family name. And even now, a long twenty seven years and many mistakes later, he still felt the same about her. She had no choice in becoming a Ford, had surely been dealt the consequences of it time and time again, and had been left scorned by her fathers shortcomings; and now he was living in the second chance given to him by the skin of his teeth and would not mess it up. 

Though, she sighed and nodded at his request instead. “Yeah,” she whispered, unsure of taking the next steps yet taking them nonetheless. “I’m in. What’re the deets?”

“I’m thinking a tap-out job.”

“Do you, Dad?” She hissed. “You feel bad for the things you said to me? The way you treated me when we were both hurting?” She ducked her head to meet his gaze, forcing him to look into her red eyes. Her voice cracked as she fought off tears, refusing to let them fall just yet, hiccupping her way through her sentence. “I hate myself for leaving you, do you feel like that, Nate?” 

“Ronnie,” he breathed out, face hot and buzzing as everything became too much. “Honey, I—I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.” 

She wasn’t even sure if an apology was what she’d been looking for all this time. She hadn’t felt any better hearing it. 

“I—I know you must hate me, and I get it,” he reached up and ran a shaking hand through messy curls. Her father was a smug man, one who didn’t often admit fault. He was smart, and good at a lot of things, and because of that he had always had something to ‘hold over your head’ one could say. To see him break, to bring himself to the level of telling the truth, meant something to her, Ronnie had decided. “But Ronnie, no matter what happens, or how much time passes, you will never not be my daughter. I love you, and I’m sorry I pushed you out when you needed me.

“I messed everything up, after S—” he choked. He didn’t often say his boy’s name out loud anymore, it dawned on him. “I pushed your mom out, and I pushed you out, and drank myself half to death, and I will never, ever be able to make up for what I said to you.”

Hot tears flowed down her cheeks, dripping from her chin onto the collar of the jacket wrapped around her. “Did you mean it?”

“No, God, no,” he shook his head, taking a few steps towards her. “Honey, none of that was true.”

“Even if you didn’t mean it,” she whispered, “it’s true now.” Her eyes closed tightly, despair spreading from her chest to the tips of her fingers, icy cold and painfully sharp. “I’m a piece of shit, Dad,” she sobbed. “The things I’ve done, the people I’ve had to be and the people I’ve had to hurt, I—I should have gotten sick instead.” 

Her knees felt weak, wobbling as her body was wracked with sobs. She poured everything that had been filling her to the brim out before her, bearing herself as if ripping her chest open. Cold fingers reached up and clawed at the fabric over her heart. “Why did Sam have to get sick? Why couldn’t it have been me? Why, why am I still here when he’s not?” She wailed. 

“Honey—”

“Dad, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything,” she shook her head, closing the distance between them and falling into his arms. Once again, she felt like a little girl engulfed in her father’s love. 

“Ronnie you have nothing to be sorry for,” he muttered, lips pressed to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

In the end, as he dried her tears and tucked her hair behind her ears, Nate was able to convince her to come with him. After letting go of so much of what was weighing her down, she didn’t want to be alone any longer. Things would be better, they would be better. 

And so there she was, sat next to Eliot on a quiet drive. He had offered to drive her car, stashed with all her belongings, and she had jumped on the opportunity to be as alone as possible. While she considered it a major breakthrough for her and her father, she felt as if she had nothing left to give. She needed space, and knew this would be her last opportunity for a while. 

“You look like the only one who can go twenty minutes without talking,” she joked as they both climbed into the vehicle. He laughed, smile lighting up an already handsome face, and nodded in agreement.

He could only begin to imagine what kind of stuff she had gone through, and the sight of her bruised face pulled at the strings of sympathy in his heart. Though she looked better now, cleaned up and donning much more comfortable clothes, she still seemed as if she was only halfway there, as if Eliot was only getting the parts of her that survived after all this time. Because of this he granted her wish and became the silent solace she had been seeking, listening to the music that hummed lowly from the speakers. 

For a long time, Ronnie had her eyes closed. She wasn’t quite asleep, but she was drifting across the plain of unconsciousness. She floated, so much lighter than she had been in years. It had been so long, so agonizingly long, since she had truly rested without the weight of her pain and guilt crushing her. She relished in the lack of obligations, the freedom of letting go, and the relief of it all ending even for a moment. 

After a while, she opened her eyes and looked over at the man next to her. It had also been so long since she allowed herself to appreciate the traits of the people around her. She had isolated herself from practically everyone, shutting out the outside world and retreating into her hardened shell; and so she let her eyes linger in his profile. 

Eliot was handsome. He was also strong, she knew that from when he rescued her only the night prior, from a certain end. 

He pretended he didn’t feel her stare. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, as if she didn’t know the words had come out at all. 

His glance was quick, though his eyes took in as much of her face as possible. “What are you thanking me for?”

“Back at the club,” she croaked, shying away slightly. “And for driving my car.”

“Don’t mention it.” He almost called her sweetheart, stopping short before the name could slip out. That was a road he wouldn’t even let himself go down, he decided, Nate’s face flashing in his mind. 

“You know,” she started, kicking off her shoes and tucking her legs under her. Once again, her gaze shied away from him and landed in the scenery outside. “I’m kinda nervous.”

“Nervous? Ronnie Ford, solo con artist, nervous?” 

When she smiled at him, it met her eyes. She wasn’t just halfway there any longer, parts of her coming back with every passing second. 

She sighed. “Nervous to go back to Boston.” The words were on the tip of her tongue, but after so long of keeping everything bottled up she was reluctant to put it all out there. Secrets, memories, past experiences not to be shared with just anyone swirled in her mind before she abruptly looked over at him again. Deflection, one of her most used weapons in her arsenal, was what she settled on. “Girls got a past, ya know.”

Again, Eliot graced her with a grin, throwing her a soft look. He had vowed not to, but if he was to go down that path…perhaps Ronnie Ford wouldn’t be a bad choice to go down it with. “Ah, don’t we all,” he affirmed, gruff voice filling the space pleasantly. “But don’t worry, we’ll take care of ya.”

And, for once, she took that to heart. This team, they were different, almost like a family; and she found herself yearning for it as she shuffled in her seat. Getting comfortable for the long drive ahead, her heart skipped a beat as she thought about her new life. She was nervous, yes, but excited despite it all. She’d written Boston off as a home she’d never see again, and here she was diving headfirst into the past.

No, if she wanted to move on, pull herself out of the spot she’d been cemented in for so long, she needed to let it go. Pack it up, carry it to where she could set it down safely and walk away. 

Then, in the flurry of pain and bleariness, a soft voice hit her ringing ears. “I got her, Nate. You alright, sweetheart?” And she tried to answer, tried to form any word at all but she couldn’t. All she could do was groan when the man slipped his hands under her aching body, carefully scooping her up. “Come on, stay with me a little longer,” he consoled, pulling her close as he rose up and quickly made his way to the rendezvous point. “I work with your dad, we’re getting you outta here.”

“M—my dad?” She mumbled, almost gasping. Thank God, she thought to herself, that her father hadn’t turned his back on her despite everything she’d done. 

Through Eliot’s mic, Nate heard her and almost cried out in relief. He had already lived through a parents worst nightmare, and he didn’t know if he could go on if they hadn’t made it in time. 

“Yeah, we got your flash drive,” the long haired man answered, rushing down the stairs as quickly and carefully as he could. “You did it, Ronnie,” he whispered as the doors leading outside became visible. And he didn’t know it, but those words were what she needed to hear to keep going. As they broke through the doors, she felt the rush of cold air on her skin and new life was shakily breathed into her. 

She had done it, had stopped the horrors that had gone on on these grounds from happening again. Flynn Horn would never have the power he once held ever again, and the rush of succeeding kept her eyes open as her head rested on his chest. 

“Ronnie!” She heard through the chaos happening around them, someone calling her name in the distance. “Ronnie, honey,” they gasped, much closer this time, and tears streamed down her face as her father’s voice registered in her sluggish mind. 

At twenty seven years old, Ronnie found herself feeling quite small again, teary eyes searching for those of her hero’s as her arms, bruised and trembling, reached out for him. She didn’t care about being angry at him, didn’t care about being upset at his actions or guilty for leaving him behind; she just wanted the sweet safety a parent’s embrace provided. “Dad?” She cried, mouth stained red from blood. 

She bloodied his clothes as soon as she was passed off, but the warmth that radiated from him made everything okay again. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered, because she was scared and hurt but she had won and found her dad.

“Nate, let’s get her to the van,” Sophie placed a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder, eyes meeting his. The girl in his arms was hurt—badly—and her clothes did little to protect her from the cold air of the night. 

“Ronnie, honey, you’re gonna be okay,” Nate whispered as he sped to the van, climbing into the back and kicking things around to make space for her. Parker scrambled to help, and watched as the woman was placed down gently before reaching for their first aid kit. Skilled hands thoughtlessly reached out to clean her wounds, starting on the deep scraped on her knees. Nate did the same for her face, gently cradling what remained of his heart. 

He had been a dead man walking for some time now, and he thanked the Lord above that he had his daughter before him again. 

“Dad?” She croaked, voice cutting through the quiet in the van. They were all crammed in there, waiting with baited breath on what to do next. They needed to know if she was finished, if there were any loose ends she needed to tie up before she could walk away; and so they remained where they were. 

Nate hummed, eyes remaining on her cheek as he wiped the blood away from a cut. “D’ya get him good?” 

He chuckled, tossing the used cloth to the side. “Oh yeah,” he assured. “We made sure no one can ignore Flynn Horn’s crimes anymore, Hardison over there—” he threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the man in the driver seat who smiled widely at her, “—drained pretty much everything he had and dispersed it amongst those victimized by said crimes, and Eliot over there took care of the man himself.” 

“And we wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, Ronnie,” a British woman interjected, voice carrying sweetly over to her. “We pulled this case off because of your work, and all those girls get to go home now.” 

“That’s all I wanted,” she whispered, the weight she had been carrying for months dissolving with every passing second. 

“This was really dangerous, Ronnie,” Nate chastised lightly. “This was a high level job you took on alone. How’d you even get mixed up in this?”

“I moved into town and things were weird from day one,” she explained, eyes drifting off as her voice grew slightly hollow. “I came to scope it out, and I met a brother of one of the girls, the guy I had give you the drive, and he told me about everything. I…I told him I could help, so I did my best. I knew I was in over my head pretty quickly but I couldn’t just quit, I’d already gotten my ass there and I wasn’t gonna walk away from helping those women,” she shook her head, wincing at the motion. “I’d heard rumors that you were back in the game but on a different side, so when I started to connect the dots that someone else was sniffing around the club I knew it could have been you. Then I saw you.”

Nate sighed. “Why didn’t you come over to me?”

Ronnie didn’t answer right away. At first she didn’t know the answer, and then she remembered. “I was afraid,” she whispered. “They were gonna send me off to who knows where at any moment and I saw you and I wanted to, but I…I was just afraid.” 

“Afraid?” He muttered to himself, face twisting in confusion. 

Ronnie sighed, hurting for every second of it. “Afraid you wouldn’t help me,” she deadpanned. “Afraid you’d hate me when you saw what I became in that club,” her voice cracked, struggling under the weight of her confession. She didn’t have it in her to lie anymore tonight, couldn’t fathom enduring anything but the easy freedom that came with just telling the truth. And because of this, she let her tongue slip and reveal a thought buried deep in the darkness. “Afraid you’d realize you’d rather it had been me instead.” 

Heavy silence engulfed the van, thick in the air around them; and Ronnie didn’t care. “W—what?” Nate gasped, jerking in surprise as her words registered in his mind. “Veronica—”

“You asked,” she cut him off, Boston accent coming through in her growing agitation. She was slowly getting upset, though all she wanted was to just let it fucking go right now. “You asked, and that was the answer. Stupid, I know, but whatever, Dad. I got the drive to you, and it all worked out.” 

Before anything else could be said, there was a knock on the back door of the van. Everyone tensed at the sound, not knowing who it could be. “Uh, Aubrey?” They heard someone call out, muffled and confused. 

Ronnie’s mind registered who it was after a delayed second, and braced herself. Limbs were stiff as she began to rise, ribs protesting as her body twisted and strained. Nate made a noise of objection and she just grunted, causing his hands to reach out for her anyways. Her head nodded in the direction of the door, and only after making eye contact with her did Eliot actually reach for the handle. He put himself directly in front of the man on the other side, as if acting as the last barrier between the outside world and Ronnie, though his guard lowered when he saw who it was. 

Ronnie’s guy, and the sister he had asked her to save. They stood awkwardly next to each other, intimidated by Eliot’s initial gaze and the uncertainty of the situation. Though, their faces changed when the battered girl hobbled into view, now clad in her father’s coat. She didn’t even know if she had the strength to pull Aubrey out one last time, shaking on her feet as she stepped out of the van, but she did it anyway when the woman wrapped her arms around her. 

“Oh Aubrey!” She cried, horrified at the state of her companion. It felt weird to use the word friend, as Aubrey wasn't real and they only knew each other because of their shared traumatic experience, but going through that with someone else meant you were more than strangers. “Did Flynn do that to you?”

Ronnie grunted under the weight of the taller woman, yet wrapped an arm around her too. “Don’t worry about it,” she dismissed, as if her current state was to be taken lightly. “I don’t always get my ass kicked, you know that.”

“Aubrey,” the young man began, voice somber as he took her in. “I’m sorry you got so hurt, but thank you so, so much for helping my sister.” His thanks came out wavering, shaky under the weight of his gratitude. “You were the only one who actually listened and did something. I’m never gonna forget you.”

As the others slowly filtered out of the van behind her, gathering around to form an unlikely yet almost seamless team, her body grew warm despite the chill in the air. They all stood together, watching the siblings depart in silence. And when the police dragged Flynn Horn out of the building, Ronnie felt lighter than she had in months. The sick bastard, the face of so many people’s nightmares, would never hold power again.

“Alright,” she sighed, clapping her hands once. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

-: ✧

Ronnie had dodged as many questions as she could get away with on the drive to her apartment, Parker having the most invasive and surprising ones. Eliot chastised here and there, citing that she hardly knew how to talk to people, but Ronnie found her almost endearing. Truthfully, it had been so long since she had even tried to have a friend that she didn’t know how to talk to people either.

Though, she still felt vulnerable, like she was naked under the eye of first impressions and expectations, and so she kept her secrets for a little longer. 

“Wait,” Parker interrupted as they pulled into the parking lot of Ronnie’s apartment complex. “This is where you live?” 

The young woman felt a laugh bubble up and it came out breathy, mouth still stained slightly red as she smiled with split lips. “Yeah, it's a shit hole, right?” She climbed out of the van with Eliot’s help, him having offered her a calloused hand. She took it, placing hers in his and taking in the warmth of his rough skin. “Thanks,” she mumbled, mind drifting to the hazy memory of him rushing to her aid. 

He stayed close as they all followed, trailing behind her slowly, and she didn’t have the courage to ask why. Were they planning on staying? Hanging around the awkward battered girl and watching her crawl into herself? And she especially didn’t have it in her to speak up when Eliot’s large hand hovered against the small of her back as she hobbled up the creaky wooden steps to the third floor. 

Once the front door was unlocked, Ronnie didn’t feel any better than she had before. The little apartment she slowly entered held nothing one would miss when away, bare in decorations and memories. It wasn’t home, she hadn’t gotten a chance to feel like she had one since the day she walked away from her father; not even when she was with Jimmy, working under him with his crew, did she feel like she was around family. 

“Nice place you got here,” Hardison broke the silence, giving her an unconvincing smile. 

“No it’s not,” Parker shot out, face scrunched up as her eyes traversed the ugly room. 

“Parker--”

“It’s alright,” Nate held a hand out, head tilted towards the ceiling. “She’s not gonna be living here much longer.”

And while Ronnie didn’t want to live there, the certainty in her father’s tone when he made decisions for her elicited a spark of rebellion in her, irritating her ever so slightly.

“What?”

The dark haired man looked over at her, wearing a smug smile to conceal just how depressing it was to realize his daughter had lost so much of what made her her. When she was younger, her room was the first thing to change when her interests shifted, entering new phases and leaving the old ones behind. He felt a sharp pang in his chest as he took her in against the background of her empty and dark apartment and realized that she was living much like himself just a few years prior. 

“You’re coming with us.” His elaboration was blunt and sure, lighting the spark and causing flames of defiance to lick at her insides. 

“Says who?” She shot back, turning to face him fully.

“Says me.” He raised his eyebrows slightly, not perturbed by her backtalk but unsure why she wouldn’t want to go with them. 

“What’s that got to do with me?” She pointed to herself, scrunching her face up. “Just because I asked you for help doesn’t mean you get to order me around and rearrange my life, I’m twenty seven, Dad. And second of all, I never said I wanted to live with you again, never said I wanted to join your little team, never said I was letting you back in.”

He scoffed at her, feeling a bout of deja vu at her defiance. “I’m not trying to rearrange your life,” he attempted to de-escalate, though he shuffled his feet as he spoke. Nervous under his daughter’s fiery gaze? Guilty knowing he didn’t have the right to pull the parent rank on her after all this time? “But it's the best option for you, Ronnie. What, are you going to stay here in this place, running jobs all by yourself? You almost got yourself killed back there!”

“And so what?!” She yelled back. “What’s it fucking matter to you? To Ma? To anybody!”

Her voice echoed slightly in the cramped space, lingering into the thick silence that followed her outburst. She was asking, finally allowing herself to ask, what reason she had to hold on anymore. For so long she had been empty, a shell of who she used to be, walking around not knowing what purpose she had. Guilt and grief weighed her down and self hatred chained her in place, the recurring wish of trading places with her brother ricocheting off the walls of her mind. With a heaving chest she stared at her father with wide eyes, stinging as fat tears welled up, and Nate felt fear tingle through every nerve in his body.

“Guys,” he didn’t look at them when he softly addressed them, eyes never leaving his daughter who was holding on by a string. “Can we get a minute?”

And find out they did. Countless photographs of drug rings, rooms filled to the ceilings with cash, and—what they hadn’t known about—girls. There was a lot more going on behind the scenes in their mark’s highly esteemed club, and someone on the inside was documenting it all. Their sender, the answerer of their silent prayers and someone clearly working their own job, was monikered by nothing other than an RF coded into the file with the knowledge that they’d have someone to find it. How she would have known that, how she knew to get it to them, and how she would have known they could do something about this, the team could not answer. But these initials had struck something in Nate, changing his disposition altogether. 

“What’s an RF?” Eliot questioned as he paced behind the desk where Sophie and Parker sat, arms crossed over his chest and brows squinted. He would never admit it, but the tension in the air was causing him to grow antsy, feet unable to remain planted in one spot. The not knowing, the discomfort at seeing the state of the women in the photos on the screens, the way he could read that something was going on beyond their knowledge; it all melded together inside his chest to form a potentially disastrous force.

Nate found himself right in front of the screens, Hardison having backed away to stand with the others, with his eyes glued to the letters as he thought it over; the gears in his head turning and smoke coming out of his ears. 

This was unexpected. He could predict a lot of things before they happened, educated guesses made using context clues and years of sharpened instincts, but never would he have thought this would be a situation he would find himself in. He couldn’t pinpoint what he was feeling as realization washed over him, dripping from the crown of his head all the way down until it filled his shoes, because there simply was no time. It was as if he was being pulled at lightning speed through his past, the future he had always wanted, and his worst nightmares all at once. 

“It’s her,” he whispered, certainty coating his words, though nobody was sure of just who he was speaking to. The team shared a look at the vague answer, unease bubbling up in them all as things made less and less sense. “Not a what, Eliot,” he spoke again, louder than before, and Sophie and Hardison jumped slightly, startled at the rise in volume and conviction. “But rather a who.” 

“Then,” Sophie started, uncrossing her legs and leaning in closer, “who’s RF, Nate?” 

The man turned in place, finally facing them but looking far away. He was almost looking beyond them, traveling much slower now to somewhere in his past so he could dredge the memories back into the present with him; and along with it, a confession of one of the many things that weighed heavy on the shoulders of Nathan Ford. “A long time ago,” he began, shoving his hand into his pockets because he didn’t know what to do with them. His shoes felt as if they were full of cement as he shuffled about, not being able to stand still under the scrutiny of those who presently meant the most to him. “Before Sam…before Maggie, when I was much younger, I had a girlfriend. And—” he took a deep breath, “—we ended up with a baby.” 

He peeled back the first layer. He always struggled with whether or not it should be peeled or ripped; slowly or quickly; torturously or mercifully. 

He took a few steps forward, stood at the edge of the platform before the desk where everyone sat and watched him relive a truth he had hidden from the light of day. “And when it was all said and done, she packed up and left town.” He peeled back the second layer. “Parent’s said that everyone already knew it was a Ford and they didn’t need that,” he shook his head. “Didn’t want that. It was too late, so they moved somewhere else.” 

Nate’s eyes hadn’t met anyone else’s since he began speaking, but they finally landed on Sophie. Perhaps she was the anchor he needed to keep himself from floating away in the painful currents of his past once again. He hoped she would keep a hold on him despite another lie being added to the list. “Her parents made her leave the baby, though.” He pursed his lips and threw his hands out as he took the last steps to be right before the others. “I still don’t know if she really wanted to or not, but I try not to blame her too much. We were just kids,” he sighed, placing his hands on the desk before him, drumming his fingers for a few beats. Stalling, as a man afraid to take the next step forward does.

This story had yet to be relieved to anyone on the Leverage Co. team, and they were practically holding their breath as they watched Nate's every move. They’d seen him low, seen him dig up the ugly and put it on display, and they were seeing him do it once again right before their very eyes. “I was younger, so I was still around my dad, but if I was a testament to his ability to raise a healthy and happy child I wasn’t working with much help,” he explained, hands reaching for the bottle and glass he had sat there previously. A comfort, a security, a vice, a punishment. “Still, it was the three of us for a while, and she was just about the only weakness I think that man ever had besides my mother.” 

He threw back the contents of his glass, pouring more of the dark liquid immediately after. “The way that little girl worked him was something I wasn’t expecting. Then I met Maggie, and then we had Sam, and I had my family.” His voice grew thick and his grip on the glass tightened. “I had my career, Maggie had hers, and Ronnie had all sorts of interests and things she was good at. Her and Sam—” he laughed, a small and breathy and emotional laugh, “—they were best friends. She was so much older than him but they just knew each other in a way we didn’t. ” The smile that had grown at the memory of his children faded quickly from his face and he was once again far away from them. It was rare they got to see glimpses into Nate’s past, speaking so freely about the life he could no longer live.

“When Ronnie was in high school she started having a hard time sleeping,” his brows drew in tightly, as if he was still trying to solve the puzzle of why. “She would come into the living room late at night and sit with me while I worked, because the work hardly ever ended, and that was when I discovered that my father had begun pulling the strings of fine tuning her into some kind of protege when she was younger. Taught her things he had taught me at her age, and I wasn’t surprised; I just felt stupid to think he wouldn’t do that to her. I…I was on the straight and narrow and I wanted that for my kids, too,” he sighed, hanging his head momentarily. He had tried, and tried, and tried, and none of it had been enough. 

“What Ronnie had that my father lacked, though,” he raised the glass to eye level, inspecting it in the light as he spoke. “Was a good heart. Ronnie wasn’t a bad kid, and I didn’t see her growing up to be a bad person, and that was their fundamental difference; that was the wedge between them. That…was where I had to step in.” 

Up until that moment, no one had even attempted to interrupt Nate, mouths agape as his words left them speechless. But, in the lull of silence in the middle of his story, their minds began to catch up with them and Parker couldn’t stop herself. “So you’ve had two kids this entire time? And one of them was a SECRET kid?”

“Parker—” Eliot began to chastise, grumbling her name but was cut off almost immediately. 

“I haven’t heard or seen anything about a daughter in your files and records. Never even heard of a Ronnie,” Hardison interjected, raising a hand to point at Nate as he worked through his thoughts aloud.

For the umteenth time, the older man sighed, deep and heavy. “Veronica Ford,” he clarified, "affectionately known as Ronnie. She…she left after Sam died.” His voice grew quiet, losing any confidence he possessed in expressing his past. “I…pushed her away, wasn’t good to her and she…she had to leave,” he trailed off, throat feeling tight as he grew warm. He was hurting, right before their very eyes, yet again.

“Where’d she go?” Eliot inquired, gruff voice just above a whisper. He knew this was hard, could see the way the man was clawing at the surface to stay afloat and was beginning to get dragged under. His words were a lifeline, pulling Nate back up and letting his head tread above water, gasping for air. 

“I don’t know,” Nate whispered back, black curls falling forward and obscuring his tear brimmed eyes.

“And you think,” Sophie threw in another float for the man to hold on to. “That RF means Ronnie Ford?”

Nate didn’t answer immediately, collecting himself for a moment before he could bring himself to use his voice again. A series of sniffles, deep breaths, and clearing of the throat, and he straightened his posture, though he didn’t meet anyone’s gaze. “Yes,” his voice cracked despite his best efforts. “In one of these photos, you can see the reflection of the person taking it,” he pointed to the one he was referring to, highlighting the faint outline of a woman scantily dressed. 

“I know that’s her. And the man that came to Sophie told her that ‘she’ said to use it after asking about me by name,” he explained, turning to them. “How would he know about us? Someone clearly sent him with the drive, and I bet it's this woman in the photo. I’d say she infiltrated the trafficking ring since she’s with the other women so much, putting herself in a long con to get as much as possible.”

“Certainly not a job I’d run solo,” Sophie interjected, almost alarmed. Was this girl in there alone?

“No, far too dangerous,” Nate agreed. “That guy is her access to the outside world but he’s just a regular guy,” he thought aloud, piecing the puzzle together now that his daughter had given him the remaining pieces. “Hardison, pull up any news on missing women in the surrounding towns of our mark’s club.” 

After only a few moments, the screens were filled with pages and pictures of women who had disappeared in the surrounding towns, all of them having something in common—these women left their lives to work at the club, seemingly of their own free will, before going missing only months later. Statements from families claiming they knew something was wrong, that this wasn’t like them, and the police could never find any of them after. And in the midst of all of them, they found one from the man Sophie had seen. 

His picture was blurry, taken from a clip of a news interview, but the worry was etched so clearly on his face despite that. His sister had quit school, left for the club, and had cut all contact off. “Bingo,” Nate declared, pointing to the screen. “I bet he got Ronnie to help get his sister out.” 

“So why’d she give the drive to us?” Parker asked. “If she’s been running this con for what, months? Why would she give literally all of her evidence over?”

That was a good question. They hit another lull of silence as it hung in the air between them all. 

“You think she figured out we were working the club too?” Eliot tried, brows furrowed deeply. 

“Our guy got swindled out of some money in a deal with a very well liked, rich entrepreneur,” Nate started, going through the whole thing, pacing around the room now. “He comes to us, says he wants revenge, but doesn’t say anything about the drugs or the women. Why?” 

“Because he didn’t know?”

“Right. Because this guy,” he pointed at the picture of their mark, a handsome man with a greasy smirk, “has almost impenetrable PR and media coverage. He’s got so much other stuff going on that this gets buried under it all, and the police won’t do anything about it. But to these families, this is the biggest concern. Ronnie’s guy finds her somehow, gets her to help his sister, and she goes in for the long con. I—” he stuttered, faltering as his next words stuck to the back of his throat. “I don’t even want to know what she’s had to do for this grift,” he choked out, clearing his throat. “But she knows that if no one has done anything about it yet, it won’t be as simple as just getting this drive to the cops or the news.” 

“She had to have figured out we were running a job in the club, too,” Eliot stated. “Maybe she recognized you the other day.”

Nate stayed silent, not knowing what to say next. “I mean, you guys said it yourselves,” Hardison started, looking over at the man with honest eyes. “This isn’t a job you’d do by yourselves, and she ain’t got nobody other than old dude who slipped us the drive. She saw the opportunity and took it, even with all the other stuff.”

“She saw her dad, Nate,” Sophie clarified, leaning forward in an attempt to catch his eye. “She saw you and she knew she could come to you for help.”

Her words almost had him staggering, the weight of their meaning parting the sea he had been slowly drowning in. His struggles against the ferocious currents ended and his lungs were able to expand. Despite everything that he had ever done, everything that had happened to the both of them, his daughter called upon him in her time of need. For all his shortcomings, Nate Ford was a beacon of hope, once again, in the eyes of the girl he called his own.

“Well, we’ve gotta figure it out now,” Parker stated, conviction coating her words. “If she’s been there three months already, and these girls disappear in four, she’s running out of time.”

“You’re right, Parker,” he nodded, heart racing in his chest at the connection he hadn’t even made. “This changes everything. New objective, bringing this guy down for good.” The picture of their mark illuminated the screen, blown up and taking over all the pictures of the women he’d trafficked. “Team, let’s go steal a crime ring.”

“Someone who doesn’t know what’s coming if they bang on our doors one more time,” Magma answered, pushing his sleeves up as he pushed past Luck. His steps are determined and confident, fiery temper already flared; and almost as if they heard him, another sequence of bangs echoed around the room. 

Magma Swing exploded. 

The young man, though always intense and a bit unhinged, had clearly crossed the line of normal to something else–anger? No, this wasn’t Magma angry, this was a display of his fury. 

It was just a knock on the door, Yami thought to himself, scoffing internally as he brought his cigarette up to his lips. Nevertheless, Magma screamed as he burst through the doors lit up in flames, fist held up as he stomped out. “Do you know whose door you’re knocking on, idiot? Do you have a death wish?!” 

The others slowly inched towards the doorway, but are stopped in their tracks as a beam of light shoots at Magma and blasts him out of view. It happened so quickly, and it was so bright, that one beat…two beats…three beats passed before Asta finally came back to himself and broke the silence. “What was that?!” he screamed, worry and fear showering over him as his eyes took in the equally shocked and worried faces of his teammates. 

“Is that…?” Noelle whispered to herself, brows squinted but eyes still wide. Before he can question her, Luck gasps and runs past them. 

“Luck–!” Asta shouted, attempting to stop him but unable to do so. The blonde haired boy darted through the open doors, already covered in lightning as he looked around for their attacker. His thirst for combat had taken control yet again; thus marking his outcome of this test. 

“Honey!” They all heard a woman’s voice call out from beyond the walls of the base, drawing the word out as if to taunt them. “I’m home!” They watched as Luck turned his head, watched as he spotted her and his smile widened, and watched as she shot another beam of light at him before he could even finish casting his spell. 

Thankfully, Luck was quick. He just barely managed to dodge, missing the brunt of the force of her attack. 

“What the hell is happening?!” Asta screamed again, more desperation in his voice than before. His eyes darted to his captain, his leader, hoping for some guidance in this situation. The boy almost had hope when he saw how calm Yami was in this otherwise very alarming situation. 

“You’re about to get beat up, idiot.”

The members who were in their rooms finally trickled into the main room, the commotion outside shaking the building they were in. 

“Was that what I think it was?” Finral questioned frantically, looking back and forth between Yami and Vanessa, who had sobered up quite a bit after realizing just who was outside. In the wake of seeing those familiar beams of light and hearing that voice, she scrambled to put her clothes back on and ready her grimoire. 

Seeing her grow so serious had Finral and Charmy following her lead, and it wasn’t even a moment later that they heard Magma and Luck yell from outside. All eyes were on the entryway, and for a moment it felt as if time was frozen, as if everything outside of the base went still. 

They all jumped as a hand popped into view, white knuckling the doorframe as its owner, a woman with long wavy hair and fancy robes, creeped into view. Her power was so strong and potent they could see it around her, glowing so brightly, and her eyes almost had a look of insanity in them.

“Don’t tell me this is how you defend your base?” Her voice was smooth and familial, as if she was comfortable speaking to them. As if she knew them. 

Noelle gasped, eyes widening. “Y/N…?” She whispered to herself, and Asta looked over at her. The expression on her face was enough to send him into action, his body acting before he could tell it to. His grimoire appeared beside him, opening and granting him access to his sword. 

“And who are you?” The woman questioned, charging up her mana even more, glowing even brighter. 

Asta took a deep breath, readying himself and adjusting his grip on the weapon. His heart pounded in his chest, but his resolve was steely and no one could take that from him. “My name is Asta,” he answered lowly, though he grew louder and louder with each word. “And I’m going to be the Wizard King one day!” 

She only hummed in response. Her arm raised, fingers pointed at him as before she shot a beam of light at him, her signature laser. The spell was cast wordlessly, and the laser moved faster than the average person could process, but to her surprise, the boy cut through it with his sword.

He had cut through it?

The tip of his sword had pierced through the concentrated beam of light she had shot at him, and it had nullified the magic as it existed. She had never seen anything like it. 

“Oh?” She perked up, eyes widening slightly. “That was interesting,” her pretty face turned into a grin, though she sort of reminded him of Luck at the moment. “Do that again…” she commanded, going into a fighting stance without taking her sights off of him, a crazed look on her face. “...Asta.”

Yami’s cigarette had long since been forgotten as he watched this sneak attack take place. Part of him felt bad, but they knew this would be coming eventually. They just never knew when she was coming.

Though, despite that, he couldn’t help but be quietly in awe of his wife. She had always been strong, and her light had always been bright; yet he was never not amazed at her raw power when he saw her in action. 

He had to squint as her mana shrouded her in a warm glow so bright it was almost blinding as she shot forward, the ground crumbling where her boots pushed off of; she moved so fast Asta didn’t even have time to react before she grabbed him and flung him backwards. He went flying through the open doorway, taking some of the wall with him on his way out, and she followed him just as quickly, not done with him yet. 

The remaining members of the squad stood there frozen, minds still processing what had just happened, before they slowly turned their heads towards their captain, blinking at him wordlessly. 

“What’re you looking at me for?” He grinned, shaking his head at the poor fools. “You know what to do.”