“There’s always someone to call.” Elliot moved toward the desk. “If I can get Okafor to push Ferris on the northern?—”
“Hey.” Hudson stepped in front of him.
An exasperated sigh escaped Elliot. He moved to sidestep Hudson, but Hudson moved with him.
“Not now, Hudson.”
“Stop.” Hudson put both hands on his shoulders.
Elliot’s body resisted, still coiled toward the door,toward the operations room. He desperately needed to dosomething.
“Hey,” Hudson tried again.
Slowly, Elliot raised his gaze to meet his.
“You can’t fix this tonight,” Hudson said. “There’s nothing left to do. Ferris has the grid, and the teams. He has everything he needs. Reed is?—”
“Don’t.” Elliot pulled back. “Don’t tell me Reed is going to be fine because you don’t know that.”
“I know. You’re right, I don’t know that.” Hudson’s hands didn’t leave his shoulders. “But I do know that you standing here running solutions in the middle of the night isn’t going to bring him home any faster. You know that too.”
He knew and it didn't matter. He couldn't keep his brain from running variables and finding angles. That was what he did. What he was good at.
He tried to step around Hudson again.
Hudson backed him up against the wall, both hands on his chest, keeping him there. “Elliot. Will you stop?”
“Let me?—”
“Please.” Hudson’s voice dropped. “Wait a second.”
He looked past Hudson, focusing on the familiar strip of light from the lamp-post. He couldn’t meet his eyes. If he did, he might break.
“You don’t have to save everyone,” Hudson said quietly. “That’s not your job. That has never been your job, no matter how long you’ve been telling yourself that.”
Pain moved through Elliot. He opened his mouth to argue, but no words came.
“Your mother. Reed. Me.” Hudson tried to lock eyes with him. “You can’t save everyone. And when you can’t, that’s not?—”
“Stop.” The word sounded wrong. Small, broken. Elliot didn’t recognize his own voice.
Hudson waited.
It was all true. That was the problem. Elliot had spent his entire life believing that if he just worked hard enough, thought clear enough, moved fast enough, he could hold everything together. And standing here now with Reed missing, his father having declined his calls in seconds, and his mother two years in the ground—he couldn’t. He had absolutely no control left.
“... that’s not your fault, Elliot.”
His knees gave way. Hudson caught him before he hit the floor, both arms coming around him hard, taking his weight without hesitation.
Elliot gripped Hudson’s shirt and held on tight.
He sobbed. Properly, without any of the quiet control he’d managed in every hard moment of his life. His shoulders shook. He couldn’t stop even if he tried.
One hand on the back of his head, one arm around his waist, Hudson held him, not saying anything, not moving. A fixed point.
Elliot pressed his face into his neck.
He didn’t know how long they stayed there, but after a while Hudson lowered them both to the floor, not loosening the embrace.
