LONG STORY SHORT
original / blindsided!

tw: kidnapping, severe trauma responses

2010

"Ash, where the hell are we going?"

The field was dark. The only light to guide them came from the moon. Elliot couldn't help but look over her shoulder as the boy pulled her through the plain. She wasn't sure why she looked back, there wasn't anyone there. No one was around for miles aside from the two of them. Just a sixteen-year-old and a seventeen-year-old in the middle of fuck-all, Missouri. Asher had parked his car twenty yards away from the road and promptly guided her into the field. She couldn't even be sure if they were in the same state anymore. But she supposed it didn't matter. This wasn't the first late-night adventure he had taken her on, she had no reason to believe it'd be the last.

"You wanted to see the meteor shower, right?" Asher answered Elliot's question with one of his own, causing her to roll her eyes. He had a tendency to do that, avoid telling her the truth by turning the spotlight back around on her. She didn't notice the underlying tremor in his voice as he spoke and she didn't realize that she hadn't actually seen his face since he pulled her out of the car. He had just been guiding her through the wheat field, his grip on her hand unyielding.

"We could've just climbed onto the roof of the house like we always do," Elliot argued lightly, though there was no real malice in her tone. There never was when it came to Asher. She trusted him implicitly. If he claimed he knew a good spot for stargazing, she believed him. Besides, she loved space far too much to let an opportunity to see a meteor shower uninterrupted pass by. She was just curious why this one was so special that they couldn't watch it from their usual spot. Or, why where they were going was so special he couldn't tell her the location before they got there.

After a few moments, he spoke again, but not without tugging her hand again, making sure she kept up. "Don't worry. We're almost there, I promise."

The further they got from the road, the darker the night seemed to become. Elliot knew it wasn't possible to get darker than it already was without removing the moon and all the stars from the sky completely. It was just a gut feeling she couldn't explain. The atmosphere around Asher grew darker, his hold on her hand now seemed born out of a necessity instead of wanting to spend time with her.

"Won't Gregory and Lillian be upset if they find out we snuck out again?" she questioned him. She knew how much his parents' opinions mattered to him. In the months that she'd known him — longer than she'd known anyone — it was one of the things that she picked up about him easiest. He only started sneaking out with her because he knew she needed the freedom every once in a while.

"We'll be back before they wake up," was his answer, though the conviction in his voice was lacking now. He saw something ahead of them that she didn't right away and the sight of it seemed to leave his confidence dwindling.

It took her a few minutes to see it, the building looming in the distance, not too far from them, but a good half-mile from their current location in the wheat field. A barn, dilapidated by weather and disuse, but still standing, still useful for something. It stood alone in the field, dirt road the only path to and from.

The anxiety quietly bubbling in Elliot's chest flared up as she felt Asher's hand tighten around hers when he realized she had also noticed the barn. That was where he was taking her, she knew now that this was the plan. So why was he so nervous about it if it were as simple as watching a meteor shower?

She stopped walking suddenly, causing Asher to almost trip over his feet as his attempts to pull her along were halted. Elliot needed him to look at her. If he did, she'd be able to read his expression, and maybe, just maybe, figure out what the hell was going on. Because this wasn't just to stargaze, wasn't even just to spend time with her without their foster siblings breathing down their necks. Something felt wrong and she needed to understand why.

"Ellie, we're going to miss the shower if we don't hurry up," he tried to plead with her, aiming to get her to keep moving. However, her feet were rooted in place, unmoving and unwilling to continue until he looked at her.

"We could've done that sitting on the roof of the house," she stated bluntly, though the slight tremor in her voice gave away the fear that was starting to take hold. "Or the hood of your car. Hell, we could do it standing right here. What's so special about that barn?"

Ever heard the phrase 'famous last words?'

Taking a breath that Elliot definitely needed more than he did, Asher finally turned to look at her. His expression was softer than she expected it to be, his behavior leading up to turning around contradicting the boy who now stood with her face to face.

"The hayloft has this giant window," he explained gently, turning slightly to point to the window she could see even from this distance. "I was out here with a couple of friends a few weeks back and it has a great view. I wanted you to have one good stargazing experience before you're sent to a new home. Mom and Dad were talking about it the other night. You're being sent to a girl's home near Jefferson City at the end of next week."

Elliot couldn't help the way her face dropped, a deep sadness now replacing her nerves. She thought this home might've been the one, that maybe even if they didn't adopt her, they'd let her finish her two years until adulthood with them. She'd already been with the Reeds for five months, longer than she'd been in any home since she was seven. Elliot didn't need to be their daughter or a sister to their children. She didn't even need them to treat her like family. She just needed the stability of being under a consistent roof.

"Oh."

It was all she said in a delayed response, all she could really express in the wake of such devastating news. She tore her eyes away from his and forced her concentration on her shoes. She couldn't afford to cry, not about something she really should've seen coming.

The silence that followed that single word stretched out for a few moments. Elliot didn't know what she expected. There was nothing that Asher could say that would comfort her. He had no control over what would become of her. She didn't expect him to save her or fight for her to stay. He had no reason to. She was a temporary figure in his life, just another transient child who would pass through his home. It didn't matter to him what happened to her once she was gone.

"Can we go now?" he asked, his voice still soft but tinged with an underlying hurriedness that Elliot missed in her self-pity.

Eventually, Elliot nodded, adjusting her hold on his hand to be just as tight as his. She drew comfort from the strength in his grasp and the need that seemed to fuel his steps, believing for a while longer that he enjoyed her presence, that one last night was as important to him as it was to her.

The rest of the walk was completed in relative silence, save for the sounds of crickets chirping and the wheat rustling both with the breeze and the way the two teenagers' bodies pushed through them.

The barn was more menacing up close, though the window Asher spoke so highly of did ease its lack of appeal. As he let go of her hand to pull open the large doors that creaked with years of disuse, Elliot took the opportunity to look around. Her young eyes took in a lot of the scenery but missed the recent tire tracks in the dirt that trailed to the other side of the barn.

With a small, "c'mon," from Asher, Elliot followed him into the structure, fully believing that he'd take her straight up to the hayloft where they could watch the meteor shower she was sure would start in a matter of minutes.

But Asher Reed was a liar and had been from the moment he suggested going to see the meteor shower. Nothing about what happened in that barn was what he said it would be. Any form of 'we' he had used in their conversations about going home was hiding the true intention of 'I,' as he would get to be home before Gregory and Lillian woke up the next morning.

Elliot Donahue wouldn't escape for another seven months.

✧✦✧

2018

"Asher."

Her heart felt as though it was simultaneously pounding through her ribcage and had stopped beating altogether. Saying his name was a mistake, looking at him was a mistake, opening the door was a mistake. She couldn't believe this was happening. It couldn't be happening. The world, her world, her safety, was crashing down around her and she was completely powerless to stop it.

She wanted to convince herself that this was all a dream. That somewhere between getting out of the shower and opening the door, she had fallen asleep and she was just in some fucked up nightmare. She'd rather this be a nightmare than reality.

"Hey, Ellie."

Asher's voice was nonchalant, adding to Elliot's anxiety like it meant nothing. Why the fuck was he acting like nothing had changed? Like he had any right to use that nickname after what he did to her? After he left her with them?

Anger, violent and all-encompassing anger, crept up on her swiftly, but it was quickly overshadowed by disbelief and a palpable fear she couldn't ignore. He had aged in so many ways, as she might've expected him to if she hadn't killed him in her head. And yet, with all of the ways that his physical attributes had changed, he was still unequivocally the seventeen-year-old boy who left her in that barn with horrors that still haunt her eight years later.

The guilt from that night that she was once convinced was fake still lived in his eyes, but with it now was a relief. As if he found comfort in knowing she was alive, that his choices hadn't killed her. At least not physically. Not in any way he could ever comprehend.

She wasn't sure what to say. God, what else could she say besides, "How did you find me?" Elliot had done a lot to ensure that people like Asher Reed would never be able to find her again. Moving halfway across the country was only part of that never-ending effort that suddenly seemed to be in vain. Her eyes darted down the street without her consent, almost as if they were expecting someone else to be lurking around the corner just as there once was the last time she stood face-to-face with him.

The need to explain his reappearance seemed to wipe a little bit of the confidence off of his face. She wasn't sure what he was expecting her reaction to be, but this didn't seem to be it. "I, uh... You were on the news the other night with that other firefighter who looks like he got decked. After the rollercoaster incident."

Fuck.

"I never found out what happened to you after... you know," Asher continued, unintentionally, or perhaps incredibly intentionally, causing her stomach to churn with even the briefest allusion to the barn. "I moved out here after I graduated. I had no idea you were so close, let alone living in LA for the last three years. I would've reached out sooner if I didn't just find out."

"You didn't answer my question." Elliot's voice was colder now, no longer tolerating his aversion to her questions like she did eight years ago. While it wasn't great that he had learned of her existence through the news, a decision she was now thoroughly regretting, it didn't tell her how he found her address. That wasn't public information and wasn't something she gave out to just anyone. Hell, even her teammates didn't know where she lived. Bobby did because it was in her file, but that was it.

Asher winced slightly at her tone, but she showed no sympathy. He had just turned her world upside down, he wasn't getting an ounce of kindness from her. Not after everything. "I've got a friend at LAPD. I asked him to help me find you."

She didn't like the fact that all it took for Asher to see her on the news and then find out where she lived was 72 hours. She didn't like the fact that someone on the force would just give out her personal information to a 'friend.' Was she entirely surprised that someone would be that easy to convince? No, but that didn't make it feel good.

Especially when there were people out there a lot worse than Asher Reed.

"The police aren't supposed to give out that information to just anyone," she stated, speaking the obvious into the air.

"No, I know, but I... I had a favor to call in. This felt like a pretty good use of it."

Elliot wanted to laugh. His excuse of a police officer owing him seemed inadequate in the knowledge that he used it to gain information about her she didn't want him or really anyone to have.

All she could do now was stare at him. There was nothing left for her to say. Perhaps if she wasn't in a state of emotional shock, she would've found it in herself to yell at him, to express any of the plethora of emotions she was feeling, to do more than just look at this boy standing on her doorstep pretending to be a man.

Realizing that she wasn't going to ask another question or poke further into his method of locating her, Asher decided to speak again, now with a question of his own. "Can I come in? I feel like we should sit down and talk."

Absolutely. Fucking. Not.

There was no way in hell Elliot Donahue would ever willingly allow Asher Reed into her home. He had already tainted it enough the moment he darkened her doorstep, she wouldn't let him tarnish the interior as well.

Perhaps she lacked subtlety in the way she narrowed the space between the door and its frame, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. Though she already took up most of that opening, she wanted to prevent him from even thinking about entering her house. "I actually have to get ready for work soon," she stumbled over her words slightly, the excuse falling out of her lips easily, though she really could've just said 'no' and left it at that. "My boss is a real stickler when it comes to us being on time."

Everything she had just said was a lie, and she was almost positive that Asher could read it on her face. She had another two hours until her shift started, but that didn't matter now. Elliot would leave in the next 20 minutes if it meant convincing him that she didn't have the time to talk to him about anything. She didn't want to hear his explanations, what she could only assume would be half-assed apologies, his side of a story she had never asked to be a part of in the first place. Every day of her life since her escape had been an attempt to rid herself of that narrative, she wasn't going to willingly invite it back in now.

Elliot hadn't noticed the hopeful expression on Asher's face until it faded with her denial. He tried his best to hide his disappointment, but she could read him and everyone else like open books. She had to learn after being so painfully blindsided by him all those years ago.

"Sure. No problem," he spoke softly, a tight-lipped smile now accompanying his words. He took a few steps back, but each step was somehow not enough for Elliot. A galaxy of distance between her and Asher wouldn't ever be enough.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and fished out a card. He extended his hand toward her, the piece of paper between two fingers. If he expected her to take it from him, he was going to be quickly disappointed. Elliot would never willingly put herself within reach of him again.

What would Elliot have to sacrifice to turn time back 72 hours? Or better yet, eight years so she could tell herself to never trust Asher Reed?

Eventually, he just placed it on the porch railing, starting to understand and maybe respect her apprehension to some extent. "That has my number on it," Asher explained, taking a step down her porch, still facing her. "Feel free to call or text me anytime. Maybe we could meet for coffee or something."

She wanted to tell him not to get his hopes up... or to maybe get the fuck away from her. She wanted to yell and scream and hurt something in a fraction of the way she was hurt. She wanted to lock herself away from the world, to find a place to hide where no one, absolutely no one, would ever find her again. But all she could do was stand there, her hand clutching the interior doorknob to the point her hand was sweating.

"Have a good shift," he said, a finality in his voice as he finally walked away from her home.

Once she was sure he was gone, Elliot stepped out a few paces to take the card from the porch railing. She didn't linger on her porch, didn't give her paranoia the satisfaction of glancing down the street again. Instead, she went back inside, locking the door behind her and holding the lock in place for a few seconds longer than necessary.

✦✧✦

In the three years that Elliot had been with the 118, she had always been a skilled and reliable paramedic. Her personal issues never got in the way of the job, the risks she took were always calculated, and she never ever froze. Even when she was the probie, she adapted to each scene they responded to with an ease that spoke of a lifetime of navigating change. When she was at the station, that would sometimes be another story. There were the post-call routines that occasionally included emptying her stomach into a toilet because she blamed herself for the negative outcome. A teammate would step into the apparatus bay to see her in the corner of the gym, taking out her frustrations on a bag because a bystander didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. She's had a panic attack or two at the station, but usually in the privacy of the dorms or on the roof. She didn't like it when other people saw her vulnerability. Letting them see it allowed them to potentially use it against her.

She had always been guarded, distancing herself from the group in a way that still allowed her to be a teammate, but not really part of their circle. She would still join them for team dinners, join in on the banter that filled the truck as they made their way to a call, and offer slivers of advice when someone needed it. She was present, but she wasn't invested in the relationships she could build there like everyone else was.

Today, however, Elliot seemed to be an entirely different person. She was trying to embody the version of herself they all knew — the unflappable, compassionate, composed paramedic who was ready for anything, but she was failing miserably.

On calls, she still did her job perfectly, but there was a detachment that wasn't there before. She had always been able to keep a level head while maintaining compassion for their patients. She was kind to those who needed it, firm with those who earned it, and unforgiving to the ones who purposefully made her job and those of her teammates harder. She gave what she got or better most of the time. Yet on the call she took during this shift, the detachment kept her quiet, fulfilling the physical needs of her job without creating connections or even speaking unless it was to provide information needed for hospital arrivals.

At the station, it was the same. She kept to herself in ways she hadn't before. If they weren't on a call, the team pretty much didn't see her. Hen had gone up to ask Elliot a question while she was restocking the ambulance only to be distracted for a split second and by the time she turned back to her original goal, the paramedic was gone. She didn't join them for breakfast or lunch and even when Bobby went looking for her to ensure that she had at least eaten something, he couldn't find her anywhere. She showed up when the alarm rang, and all of her station duties were fulfilled, but it was like she was a ghost.

Her behavior should've been more concerning to the team than it was. Her demeanor had always been consistent up until now and such a drastic change should've been enough for them to say something or try to reach out when they did see her, anything at all would've been better than letting her be. But they didn't. They let Elliot be. Unwittingly letting her spiral into a dark place that had never fully let it out of its grasp.

Asher's card was tucked away in her duffle bag. Not because she wanted to keep it or would ever even use it, but because she couldn't leave it anywhere someone else could find it. She didn't want the questions that could potentially be asked or assumptions that he was some guy who gave her his number in hopes that she'd call and they could go on a date. She should've shredded it the minute she stepped back into her home, but she hadn't. Instead, she had opted to fulfill the lie she fed to Asher and head to work much earlier than necessary, tucking the business card in her duffle and attempting to pretend that it wasn't there.

Elliot had wracked her brain to find a logical reason that Asher would ever want to see her again. Seeking forgiveness or redemption seemed inadequate for what he had put her through. How could he ever think he deserved it? The idea of catching up was laughable at best. She had nothing kind to say to him, let alone be cordial. If his mere presence didn't leave her in a state of pure panic, she was sure she'd only be able to find it in herself to cuss him out.

The longer she was left alone with her thoughts, the further she spiraled. She remembered the text she received from Buck while she was at the gym telling her that their interview with the news had aired on national television. Initially, the information left her uncomfortable with the unwanted spotlight, but now it just served as a catalyst for fears she couldn't suppress with how easy it was for Asher to find her.

She knew staying in LA for so long was a mistake. Even staying after that first year was a surprise to herself, but she had craved that stability so badly that she forgot what she was running from in the first place. Elliot had let her guard down when she agreed to start working at the boxing gym. She started relaxing a bit when she and Macie extended the lease on their house past those first twelve months. She got comfortable with the 118 and the routine they provided her, and that was her biggest mistake. Getting comfortable meant getting sloppy. And getting sloppy allowed for slips like standing in front of news cameras long enough to tell them her name. A third of her life was spent in vigilance and she fucked it all up just by agreeing to stand by Buck's side one night. They were coming for her. She was almost sure of it.

All Elliot could envision now was the faces that haunted her sleeping hours. She hated it when they infiltrated her waking ones, but right now there was no escape. Not one she could experience within the confines of the firehouse. And certainly not one she would experience while feeling like she was still running. Her senses began to fill with scents, sounds, and textures she hadn't encountered in eight years. She could hear the crunch of tires against gravel that always served as a prelude for another night she wouldn't be able to escape. The smell of old, damp hay permeated her very being. The metal around her wrists was a phantom feeling she still to this day had a hard time shaking off.

But the restraints weren't there now, and maybe that's what sent her fight-or-flight response into full gear.

She didn't have much time left in her shift anymore, maybe thirty minutes tops, but her mind wasn't in the station anymore. Elliot wasn't changing from her uniform into her street clothes, she was finally finding something to cover herself after months of the bare minimum. She wasn't just preparing her bag to go home, she was making sure there was no trace of her left anywhere. And she certainly wasn't pushing open the doors that lead to the station's parking lot. Instead, her mind showed her the reality of the sixteen-year-old girl who escaped one night on a fluke.

If Elliot had said she noticed her teammates trying to get her attention as she moved mechanically, she would've been lying. To be completely honest, she didn't even realize they were there until one of them made a choice that probably should've been reconsidered before it got that far.

Amid her attempt to escape an existence that only she knew of, she missed Hen's persistent questions and the concern in her voice as she followed her through the station. She was oblivious when Buck and Chimney joined in to try to get her attention. They had done everything so far aside from touching her and everything they had done was far from enough to get her to snap out of whatever daze she was in. She didn't flinch when Buck clapped in her face or stop when Hen's voice raised to get Bobby's attention. All she did was keep moving.

Her movements were slow, her teenage self would've run if she could, but at the time, that was impossible without aggravating something. So now, at 24, Elliot moved at a brisk speed that wouldn't worsen a long-healed injury.

It was Bobby who set off the worst of her distorted reality. He hadn't meant to, no part of him would ever want to further a spiral he couldn't even begin to imagine. But when Hen told him that something was wrong and that Elliot wasn't in any state to drive, he allowed his instincts to protect his team to propel him instead of his knowledge of trauma.

Grabbing her arm to get her to stop served not as a return to reality but a break from the flashback she was currently grappling with. The flashback, so far, had been rooted in what actually happened with no deviations. But now someone was getting her to stop, they had found her trying to escape. She would be punished.

Elliot frantically tried to pull away from Bobby's grip, a strangled cry escaping her lips that no one had ever heard from her before. Her body was in a state of pure panic. She couldn't go back. She couldn't keep doing this.

Bobby held her firmly, adjusting his hold so he could turn her around to face him, though she didn't make it easy with the way she was fighting. The blurs of her face that he managed to see were those of unadulterated terror. He'd never seen her so scared, not of anything. The tears that streamed down her face were new to him and the rest of the team, who could only stand and watch for now.

As she continued to try to pull out of his grasp, her hands balled into fists that would be used if she had the range of movement to do so. "Elliot, you gotta stop. Please, stop." Bobby's voice was calm — laced with his own fear, yes, but he knew that yelling here wouldn't do anything for her.

She managed to get one of her arms out of her captor's grasp and began to hit him with weak fists. Elliot was just a teenager, after all. She didn't start training to fight back until long after she had escaped. " No! Let me go! Please, just let me go!"

With both of her arms wildly trying to get Bobby away from her, Buck felt he had no choice but to step in. He stepped up behind her, his arms wrapping around her chest, pinning her biceps to her sides. The gesture, meant to contain her movements, only made things worse. Elliot's scream echoed against his chest as she lifted her feet off the ground, throwing him off balance. Her goal was to get her captor to worry about himself long enough to let her go, but Buck wouldn't budge.

"Ellie, it's us!" Buck pleaded with her, his hold never loosening enough to let her get far. To limit her lashing out, he and Bobby brought her to a sitting position on the sidewalk, her back still pressed against Buck's chest. Bobby kneeled in front of both of them, out of the way of her kicking, but close enough to make sure that he could stop her before she inadvertently hurt Buck. "It's me. It's Buck. You're safe."

"Please, just let me go," she repeated, a sob escaping her as she tried to get away. "I don't want to do this anymore."

"Elliot, you're safe," Bobby echoed Buck's affirmation, hands on her knees in an attempt to ground her. "You're at the firehouse. You're with your team in LA. No one here is going to hurt you or make you do anything you don't want to do."

But she couldn't hear them. Their voices sounded like taunts, lies she had heard before. There was no such thing as safety or freedom or autonomy. All there was and ever would be was this — a fight for the pain to stop just for a little.

Hen and Chimney stood a few steps away from the altercation, their expressions a mix of horror and concern as they witnessed such a strong break from reality. They knew what they would do if they had responded to a call like this, but this was their friend, their teammate.

"Bobby, what should we do?" Hen asked when Elliot showed no signs of calming down on her own. She knew what the answer would be, and she knew there was a chance that Elliot would never forgive them for this, but it needed to be done. They needed to keep her safe until they knew how to help her.

Bobby seemed to be on the same page as he hesitated for a moment. He watched his youngest paramedic scream and fight against unseen assailants and felt a helplessness he seldom experienced. "Chim, go get a sedative from the ambulance."

Chimney took off without questioning it and Hen joined the trio on the pavement. With Bobby's help, she managed to keep Elliot's arm still enough that she could roll up the sleeve a little past the elbow. She couldn't focus on the scars that she hadn't noticed before, instead, she had to focus on giving her friend the best possible care.

"It's okay, El. I'm gonna give you a sedative and you're going to feel a lot better," Hen told her gently, trying as best she could to soothe the terror she could see in Elliot's eyes. But she couldn't hear her, not really, and Hen could tell. Chimney returned with the sedative and an alcohol wipe to prep the area, handing both to Hen. "We're going to take care of you, I promise."

The downer took effect within a few minutes of being in her system, slowing Elliot's violent struggle against Buck and Bobby into quiet sobs. It was a defeat she wanted no part in. "You're safe, Ellie. You're safe," Buck whispered into her hair repeatedly, rocking back and forth with her in his arms.

Chimney and Hen took to taking her vitals, watching the Pulse Ox slowly show that her heart rate was slowing. Her blood pressure stabilized and that haunted look in her eyes dissolved.

Elliot's return to reality was another reminder of why she didn't stay in one place for too long. Staying around meant people getting attached to her and looking at her the way her team is now. She wasn't entirely sure what just happened. She never remembered her episodes after she came back to reality, but the look on Bobby's face told her that she had one. And from the drowsy, heavy feeling creeping through her veins, it was bad enough they had to sedate her.

The aftermath hit her team hard. The adrenaline that fueled them gave way to the reality that their teammate struggled with something so profound it left her fighting against the very people who wanted to keep her safe. The breakdown was eye-opening to the fact that they truly knew so little about Elliot that this had come out of nowhere.

They moved mechanically for now, allowing a few other on-duty paramedics to approach with a stretcher. They'd deal with their own emotions later, once they could be sure that she was in the best hands.

Elliot didn't put up a fight as they transferred her, though she didn't have much energy to do so. The sedative had done its job and now all she wanted was to sleep, to find some version of the peace that had been so elusive her entire life.

Maybe one day, she'd get it.

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