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But then Keats explained that in the 22 years he’s been retired from his own operation, he’s seen 2 team leaders and 1 support drink themselves to death, 1 team leader overdose on heroin, 1 support shoot himself, 1 team commander die on a rescue mission that was in no doubt a suicide run, and 1 operation technician drop off the face of the fucking earth.
“You want any shot at happiness?” he had asked after, looking Travis right in the eye. “You want any shot at that boy of yours that the gossip mill says you fell in love with? Then fucking talk. Don’t bottle it up until it kills you.”
It’s a line nearly straight out of Dr. Singh’s playbook, but unlike the doctor, Keats gets it.
So, Travis fucking talked. He’s been talking.
But tonight… man, does he not want to talk about Todd fucking Henley tonight.
Keats sighs. Then he steals the binoculars from Travis and puts them to his own face. “Fine - I’ll give you a break from the storyline. Just tell me about Carter.”
Travis smiles.
He can talk about Carter all damn night.
A knock on Carter's bedroom door in the morning has his heart threatening to lurch from his chest. He's out of his bed and tugging on sweatpants in less than 10 seconds, nearly tripping to get to the door and unlock it - something he's been doing since Travis left because he somehow feels much less safe without him here. He's halfway to a grin when he opens the door.
But it's Ace.
Ace’s lips curve into an apologetic smile as Carter's shoulders slump. "Not the one you wanted, I know. But I have good news."
Good news about Travis?
Carter tries to keep his voice level when he asks, "And what's that?"
Ace hands Carter a photograph. The moment Carter looks at the face smiling up at him, his knees buckle. He slaps a hand against the doorframe to keep himself up.
Elliot.
That's Elliot smiling up at him. Elliot, who cried in his arms when they were trapped in the cage. Elliot, who just wanted his mom. Elliot, who didn't understand why he was being hurt when he didn't do anything naughty.
Elliot, who begged Carter and Casey to save him as the guards hauled him away.
"Before he left, Trav asked me to see if I could find any missing children reported with the name Elliot. Every year almost half a million children are reported missing in the U.S. alone, so I knew it'd be tricky. He had a description, which helped. We also knew an estimate of when he was taken. It still took time. Turns out, little Elliot is from Canada, not the U.S. Once Maison suggested we might be looking for our needle in the wrong haystack and I broadened my search, I found him."
Carter processes the sentences slowly, his brain whirring. Canada. The boy hadn't had an accent, but he supposes he's never actually been to Canada. Maybe they don't have heavy accents like they always do in the movies. Did Elliot ever say eh? Or you betcha? He can't remember.
It doesn't really matter.
They found Elliot. Travis asked them to find Elliot.
"But… how'd you get a description?"
"Travis had Jake talk to Casey."
Carter frowns. "Why? I could have given it to him."
"I was under the impression he didn't want you involved. Didn't want to get your hopes up. Even if we found his identity, that doesn't mean we found who has him now. It doesn't mean we figured out a way to save him."
"Isn't he going to be mad you told me then?" Carter asks, trying not to feel dejected as reality settles in. They still might never find him. Never save him.
“He never explicitly said not to tell you.” Ace smirks. “Besides, I’d like to think I’ve come to know you a little bit. Enough at least to know you want to do something. You don’t want to sit around here wallowing in your emotions and talking about your trauma - not that there’s a fucking thing wrong with that, because there’s not, but it’s not you. It’s not what you want.”
Carter returns the smirk with one of his own. “So, you’re going to let me help find Elliot?”
“Yes and no. There’s nothing you can do right now, but when there is, I promise to tell you.” He points to the picture now in Carter’s hands. “I wanted to let you know we’re on it, though. I’ll feel like shit if this is me getting your hopes up and we never find him, but I thought you deserved to know.”
“What now? How do you find him?”
