Carter drinks, more slowly this time, mulling the words over.
He should be happy about it. Doing something good for Eliot, making a difference. That used to be what he was about, helping people, a good doctor who is there for his patients. And part of him is, the part that still abhors murder and violence. But that same part is also increasingly enraged by Eliot finding a better life out there at Carter's expense, without him. Having worked so hard to get Eliot to be a better person and to get nothing in return but a few empty words so many years later.
"If that is true I'm happy for you. You learned to care, that's great, really."
John remembers feeling happy when Eliot showed signs of remorse, when he was slowly breaking through to him. It wasn't enough, never enough, but it was something. Some kind of memory of the world out there to cling to, where people looked out for each other, helped each other, loved each other. Where people had friends. When Eliot leaves, that memory is ripped away from John, that last beacon of hope shattered.
"But I learned to survive."
With Eliot gone and the assassins out for blood all he can do is flee into the protection at Moreau's side. And Moreau is there to pick up the pieces, entangling him in his web like a spider and even though Carter knows, deep down, there's nothing he can do about it. Because this time there really is nothing left but survival.
He takes another sip of his drink.
"... You know, I did try to escape. Once." Just once, that was enough to never attempt it again.
He gives Eliot a wan smile. "You can probably imagine how that went. Made it past the fence, though, almost to the station even." He briefly touches his neck, gaze turning inwards with what can only be very bad memories. "Damien... wasn't very happy about it but he said he understood that I was upset and gave me another chance. And I decided to take it."
John shakes his head.
"You don't understand what it's like for a guy like me in here. You may think you do? But you don't. How there's nothing you can do when these guys decide to take you out. Nothing."
He spreads his arm wide. "I'm not like you, Eliot. Somebody attacks you, you go ahead and break their face. I don't have that. And these guys? They have no concept of someone not having that. They don't understand that if they lose their cool, if they hit me too hard, I'm not getting up again. Hardison, he could blackmail these guys, me? I don't even have that. I had nothing on them. All I had was Damien."
His voice turns harsher. "And you don't know what that's like. What I had to do to make it in this place. If you did, you wouldn't--"
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He should be happy about it. Doing something good for Eliot, making a difference. That used to be what he was about, helping people, a good doctor who is there for his patients. And part of him is, the part that still abhors murder and violence. But that same part is also increasingly enraged by Eliot finding a better life out there at Carter's expense, without him. Having worked so hard to get Eliot to be a better person and to get nothing in return but a few empty words so many years later.
"If that is true I'm happy for you. You learned to care, that's great, really."
John remembers feeling happy when Eliot showed signs of remorse, when he was slowly breaking through to him. It wasn't enough, never enough, but it was something. Some kind of memory of the world out there to cling to, where people looked out for each other, helped each other, loved each other. Where people had friends. When Eliot leaves, that memory is ripped away from John, that last beacon of hope shattered.
"But I learned to survive."
With Eliot gone and the assassins out for blood all he can do is flee into the protection at Moreau's side. And Moreau is there to pick up the pieces, entangling him in his web like a spider and even though Carter knows, deep down, there's nothing he can do about it. Because this time there really is nothing left but survival.
He takes another sip of his drink.
"... You know, I did try to escape. Once." Just once, that was enough to never attempt it again.
He gives Eliot a wan smile. "You can probably imagine how that went. Made it past the fence, though, almost to the station even." He briefly touches his neck, gaze turning inwards with what can only be very bad memories. "Damien... wasn't very happy about it but he said he understood that I was upset and gave me another chance. And I decided to take it."
John shakes his head.
"You don't understand what it's like for a guy like me in here. You may think you do? But you don't. How there's nothing you can do when these guys decide to take you out. Nothing."
He spreads his arm wide. "I'm not like you, Eliot. Somebody attacks you, you go ahead and break their face. I don't have that. And these guys? They have no concept of someone not having that. They don't understand that if they lose their cool, if they hit me too hard, I'm not getting up again. Hardison, he could blackmail these guys, me? I don't even have that. I had nothing on them. All I had was Damien."
His voice turns harsher. "And you don't know what that's like. What I had to do to make it in this place. If you did, you wouldn't--"
John stops abruptly, snapping his mouth shut.