moonchildfic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moonchildfic) wrote2012-01-16 12:38 am
moonchildfic) wrote2012-01-16 12:38 am
Recovery 2/3
Title: Recovery: part 2
Author: Magpie
Rating: pg-13 mild description of torture
Genre: Teamfic (though there's plenty of subtext if you're looking for it)
Summary:Four days ago Eliot sacraficed himself so the others could escape. It took the team four days to get him back. A lot can be done to a man in four days.
A/n: This is the second of three parts to my fic Recovery. To understand it you really should read the first part. However I do reference two of my other fics “Things Not Said” and “Rescue”. At the moment I’m not sure of a space efficient way to link them (hints would be nice for the clueless girl here) but they were some of the most recent things I posted on my journal so they should be easy to find there.
A/n: I feel like I’ve been hit in the head with an extremely depressing bag of salt and it is the fault of this fandom. As an Eliot fangal I made the mistake of reading Supernatural/Leverage crossovers. I had never seen Supernatural so Thursday night last week I watched the first episode to see what it was all about.
If anyone was wondering where I disappeared to these last five days I am now working my way through season three.
After Sam died Nate had never really been certain about anything. Black and white became shades of gray. Yes and No, True and False were big Maybes and “I just don’t know”s. It was strange then, that with this new team, in this new world of shades of gray there were moments when things were clearer then ever and moments when he didn’t even bother lying to himself.
That moment when Eliot was flipping out he’d told Eliot to lie still, soft and understanding but firm. It had been instinct, after all how many times had he had to calm down Sam so the doctors could try to help him? And the way Eliot had reacted so quickly, calming at his words. It was one of those strange moments when there wasn’t even black and white. Things just were.
This strange bunch of misfits who’d never dreamed of working with anyone trusted each other, trusted him. They were a family. And maybe the maybes were back on who was who and what. He didn’t know if he felt like Eliot, Parker, and Hardison were his kids any more than if they looked to him as a father but they were family in whatever weird way you looked at it. They looked out for each other.
So when Eliot was settled down to go to sleep again Nate stretched out a hand, half seeing Sam in that prone form as he laid a hand on the man’s head, hoping the human contact might help to keep the nightmares at bay this time.
~*~
Hardison watched and waited and worried, half thought jokes about how he felt like he was on a job running through his head. After all, that’s what he did on jobs it seemed. He’d watch and worry and sure he did other stuff but nine times out of ten during the most dangerous situations he was the one at mission control hoping everyone came home in one piece. Hell it was only bad luck he’d been there when Eliot got taken.
Hardison had never been very good at waiting. He was marginally better with the team but… this was driving him batshit crazy. It was close to twenty four hours since they’d got Eliot back. The man had woken up twice and was making recoveries but he felt like they’d all been holding their breath and waiting for far too long. He didn’t want to think about it but it was more than Eliot riding on how long until he woke up for more than a couple minutes.
The people who had Eliot had been after the team. Hardison didn’t think he would of talked but Eliot himself had told Hardison that no one was immune to torture. Everyone talked eventually, you could train and harden and make strategies but professionals were very good at what they did.
Professionals had held Eliot for four days.
“Hardison?” Sophie’s voice broke through Hardison’s thoughts with a start, making him brace himself on the doorframe to Eliot’s office where he’d been leaning to regain his balance.
“Still sleeping Sophie.” Hardison said, turning to face her seeing the concern he was feeling on her face. “Done with the wrap up?”
“A few hours ago.” Sophie replied, there was something close to honest on the grifters face. Regret? She took another step into the room and gently shook Nate awake, speaking softly to not disturb Eliot. “Nate, I think I found something. I need to speak with both of you.”
They slipped out of Eliot’s office, closing the door behind them but unwilling to travel more than a few feet away from it. Nate broke the oppressive silence first. “What did you find?”
Sophie took a breath, trying to approach this as best she could. “I was going through the hard copy files we recovered, just to double check.” They all could easily tell she might as well of said the truth, As an excuse to stay close by. “and I found references to a security camera in the room. I think there might be footage from the room in the files you downloaded when we hacked their security.”
“No.” Hardison said, not even sure what he was refusing. “I mean I downloaded all their security footage but…”
“If we looked at it we would know if they did something to him more than we know.”
Nate surprised him then, his voice hard and there was something almost scary in the thin line of his mouth. “We’d know who they are and if any of them got away.”
Neither of them were saying the third reason for wanting to know what had happened. They’d know sooner if Eliot had said anything. Hell, in his condition it might be the only way they’d know for sure if they were going to be getting nasty surprises.
“I get it.” Hardison said putting up his hands and looking away. “but… that’s not just some guy in there. This is Eliot.” He didn’t like the way his voice got that weird edge in it but with any luck no one would hold it against him, they were all on edge and he couldn’t belive, well he could since he knew why but, god this was not a good week. “You seriously want me to watch four days of video of that being done to him?”
There was a pause as what exactly they were asking sank in.
“You’re right.” Nate said with a long sigh running a hand down his face getting that “I need a drink” look before speaking again. “Set it up anyway. I’ll go over it.”
Hardison nodded mutely glad he didn’t have to but not particularly happy about any other part of the situation.
Nate and Sophie went back into Eliot’s office and Hardison made his way into the conference room, grabbing one of his job laptops and starting to locate and prepare the files.
It was quiet, and the silence was eating away at him again. Would silence always be this disturbing to them? He could remember the screams he’d heard even over their coms and how the silence that followed felt like a deathblow. Then that blasted hood, four days with the only indication to what was going on being pain? Hardison was pretty sure it would of driven him mad. He could only imagine what that kind of vulnerability would of done to Eliot.
Hardison’s fingers stopped moving. He swallowed hard, trying to push back that thought that had wormed it’s way into the back of his mind. He did not need to give himself PTSD when Nate was willing to take the hit for him.
Still…
Hardison heard Nate walking into the room. It was a sign he was spending far too much time around Eliot and Parker that he could identify Nate by his footsteps.
“You know about a month ago, the night Eliot bailed on the planning we talked a little about this stuff and then a couple night’s later in that crappy motel it came up again.” Hardison said, even as his brain told that idiotic feeling of caring about the rest of them that had gotten way out of control in the past few months to shut up. “I kinda think I was the first person he really talked to about it.” Nate’s silence was getting to him but he kept saying things. “I don’t know man but… I kinda think if any of us.” He was laughing now for reasons he couldn’t really understand though the bitterness in it was unusual for him. “I think things are already weird enough between us. I should be the one to do this.”
There was silence a moment longer then Nate crossed the room and put the bottle and glass next to Hardison and left without a word.
Yeah, this wasn’t at all one of those days he missed working solo.
Not at all.
~*~
Eliot wasn’t entirely sure who was making that raspy panting breathing sound, though
the idea that it might be him had crossed his mind. He really hoped that sound very close to a whimper was just some fluke of his muted hearing. He was loosing track of a lot of things, always a bad idea in this situation. Keep track of time, keep track of rounds, hell get ocd and count things if you had to. It gave you something to focus on besides the pain.
Eliot was having a hard time focusing on anything. Oblivion was closing in around him again even as the voltage was turned on and a agonized scream ripped from his throat one more time and thoughts slipped away for a small eternity before the current was cut off.
How long? How long since they’d killed Parker? How long since he’d started to believe that this time was no different and no one would come for him?
How much longer should he hold out? He had his exit strategy. If he had no other choice he could bite down in just the right way to break the capsual implanted in his back molar half a decade ago in preparation for just this kind of situation. Break it open, swallow. The quick acting poison would take care of the rest.
Another round another scream.
He couldn’t catch his breath, and he couldn’t deny that those were indeed whimpers coming from him now. When Oblivion yawned in front of his sightless eyes he gave himself willingly into it.
~*~
When Eliot surfaced again he did so slowly. Pain but also feeling spread toward his extremities. Darkness was giving way but Eliot clung to it, not ready to face that again. He was too tired, to worn out, he couldn’t do this anymore.
Then he heard it. Breathing, slow and steady nearby. A weight on his head different than before. In a rush he remembered where he was, recognizing Nate’s presence.
He let himself wake up fully, his internal clock tells him it’s very late or very early.
It also tells him if he doesn’t take a shower, use the toilet, and get something in his stomach soon violence may ensue.
It draws a pained smile to his face. His body is beginning to function like a body should. It was a good sign.
Slowly Eliot opened his eyes, finding his head clearer and the pain easier to bear than before. He winced at the thought but forced first his wrists, then his arms to move. No restraints this time.
Painfully he sat up, leaning back against the couch as he waited for his body to recover from the position change. Habitually he catalogued everything in the room. Nate was sleeping in a chair not far from where Eliot’s head had been, the empty bottle by his feet suggesting he’d drank himself to sleep while watching over Eliot, though there was only one which meant he wouldn’t be as drunk as usual.
They were in Eliot’s office, though the computer set up on his desk was Hardison’s and Parker’s little plant sat on a side table next to a pile of clothing that looked like it could cloth half a dozen guys.
The office was dark beyond Hardison’s computer screen and a little lamp on Nate’s other side. It looked like everyone had either gone home or were playing a rousing game of laser tag.
Another deep breath. Eliot closed his eyes and let his awareness travel inward. He couldn’t be down long. He had to start getting better now. He mentally logged each of his injuries, aknowleging them and moving on. There was a lot of pain but not much damage. He should be back on his feet soon enough now that his body seemed to be on the rebound. It was time to press the limit a little.
It took him a moment longer than he’d like to admit to force himself to move, leveraging his body forward and into an upright position, the pain in his shoulders grew to nearly white hot as they were forced to take full weight of his arms again. He was shaking, his legs not willing to support him and weakened body wanting to curl up against this fresh onslaught.
But pain was something Eliot had to live with, he couldn’t let it slow him down. It was the brutal truth that he’d been getting soft and this was good for him, at least as far as his survival skills went.
He was almost gasping for breath and near collapse by the time he reached his clothes but Eliot only allowed himself a few minutes to kneel by the table, strain off his arms as he regathered his strength. He had to get his body working again, get the stiffness out and blood flowing. He had to move.
Eliot grabbed his clothes and forced himself back to his feet only to find the world swing out from under him as blackness edged into his vision.
A strong arm caught him around the waist, avoiding his throbbing shoulders as much as possible. “If we knew you’d be moving around this much we might have rethought the restraints.” Nate chided ignoring the fact they were a little too close for comfort and Eliot didn’t have a shirt. “Bathroom?”
“Not with your arm ‘round me.” Eliot growled, his voice horse, even as he let Nate help him toward his office’s bathroom, grateful Hardison had had the presence of mind to give him the office with a shower in the bathroom. “Just get me in there.”
Nate got him inside and gave him a look that in any other context than at a co worker who may or may not collapse at any second might have caused Eliot to punch him and left Eliot to clean himself up.
It was nearly a half hour, and Nate asking him if he was still conscious every five minutes like clockwork, damn that guy needed to loosen up a little, that Eliot emerged. In clean clothes, still wet from the shower, and beginning to feel a little bit human he sat down on the couch and didn’t feel like he’d be getting up any time in the near future. He was exhausted, and everything hurt, but he felt a little better. If he had too he would be able to move and function.
Nate pressed a mug of something warm into his hands, tea from the smell of it, his usual. “If you keep that down I’ll get you something to eat.” Nate said simply as Eliot drank, forcing himself to pace it. There was no idiocy quite like making yourself sick from drinking too much too fast after an ordeal.
It wasn’t long before he set the half empty cup on the table and leaned back, his strength and will both beginning to give out on him. How long had it been and how long it would take for him to get past this he didn’t know but it looked like oblivion would be pulling him back under soon.
“You should rest some more.” Nate said, gently trying to maneuver Eliot so he’d lie back down. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll get you back to your place.”
Eliot let himself be moved, already closing his eyes. He hoped by tomorrow he’d be able to get back to his place under his own power but… a small sigh escaped him. Maybe one more day here. It was safest here. Strange how for the first time in his criminal life he thought it was safer around people than alone. “Maybe.” He said softly in response.
“Get some sleep Eliot.” Nate said. “You’ll be back to bashing heads in no time, just get a little rest first.”
“Don’t get all chick flick on me Nate.” Eliot said grumbled. He didn’t even have to hear Nate’s frustrated sigh to know it would be there as he drifted off to sleep.
Author: Magpie
Rating: pg-13 mild description of torture
Genre: Teamfic (though there's plenty of subtext if you're looking for it)
Summary:Four days ago Eliot sacraficed himself so the others could escape. It took the team four days to get him back. A lot can be done to a man in four days.
A/n: This is the second of three parts to my fic Recovery. To understand it you really should read the first part. However I do reference two of my other fics “Things Not Said” and “Rescue”. At the moment I’m not sure of a space efficient way to link them (hints would be nice for the clueless girl here) but they were some of the most recent things I posted on my journal so they should be easy to find there.
A/n: I feel like I’ve been hit in the head with an extremely depressing bag of salt and it is the fault of this fandom. As an Eliot fangal I made the mistake of reading Supernatural/Leverage crossovers. I had never seen Supernatural so Thursday night last week I watched the first episode to see what it was all about.
If anyone was wondering where I disappeared to these last five days I am now working my way through season three.
After Sam died Nate had never really been certain about anything. Black and white became shades of gray. Yes and No, True and False were big Maybes and “I just don’t know”s. It was strange then, that with this new team, in this new world of shades of gray there were moments when things were clearer then ever and moments when he didn’t even bother lying to himself.
That moment when Eliot was flipping out he’d told Eliot to lie still, soft and understanding but firm. It had been instinct, after all how many times had he had to calm down Sam so the doctors could try to help him? And the way Eliot had reacted so quickly, calming at his words. It was one of those strange moments when there wasn’t even black and white. Things just were.
This strange bunch of misfits who’d never dreamed of working with anyone trusted each other, trusted him. They were a family. And maybe the maybes were back on who was who and what. He didn’t know if he felt like Eliot, Parker, and Hardison were his kids any more than if they looked to him as a father but they were family in whatever weird way you looked at it. They looked out for each other.
So when Eliot was settled down to go to sleep again Nate stretched out a hand, half seeing Sam in that prone form as he laid a hand on the man’s head, hoping the human contact might help to keep the nightmares at bay this time.
~*~
Hardison watched and waited and worried, half thought jokes about how he felt like he was on a job running through his head. After all, that’s what he did on jobs it seemed. He’d watch and worry and sure he did other stuff but nine times out of ten during the most dangerous situations he was the one at mission control hoping everyone came home in one piece. Hell it was only bad luck he’d been there when Eliot got taken.
Hardison had never been very good at waiting. He was marginally better with the team but… this was driving him batshit crazy. It was close to twenty four hours since they’d got Eliot back. The man had woken up twice and was making recoveries but he felt like they’d all been holding their breath and waiting for far too long. He didn’t want to think about it but it was more than Eliot riding on how long until he woke up for more than a couple minutes.
The people who had Eliot had been after the team. Hardison didn’t think he would of talked but Eliot himself had told Hardison that no one was immune to torture. Everyone talked eventually, you could train and harden and make strategies but professionals were very good at what they did.
Professionals had held Eliot for four days.
“Hardison?” Sophie’s voice broke through Hardison’s thoughts with a start, making him brace himself on the doorframe to Eliot’s office where he’d been leaning to regain his balance.
“Still sleeping Sophie.” Hardison said, turning to face her seeing the concern he was feeling on her face. “Done with the wrap up?”
“A few hours ago.” Sophie replied, there was something close to honest on the grifters face. Regret? She took another step into the room and gently shook Nate awake, speaking softly to not disturb Eliot. “Nate, I think I found something. I need to speak with both of you.”
They slipped out of Eliot’s office, closing the door behind them but unwilling to travel more than a few feet away from it. Nate broke the oppressive silence first. “What did you find?”
Sophie took a breath, trying to approach this as best she could. “I was going through the hard copy files we recovered, just to double check.” They all could easily tell she might as well of said the truth, As an excuse to stay close by. “and I found references to a security camera in the room. I think there might be footage from the room in the files you downloaded when we hacked their security.”
“No.” Hardison said, not even sure what he was refusing. “I mean I downloaded all their security footage but…”
“If we looked at it we would know if they did something to him more than we know.”
Nate surprised him then, his voice hard and there was something almost scary in the thin line of his mouth. “We’d know who they are and if any of them got away.”
Neither of them were saying the third reason for wanting to know what had happened. They’d know sooner if Eliot had said anything. Hell, in his condition it might be the only way they’d know for sure if they were going to be getting nasty surprises.
“I get it.” Hardison said putting up his hands and looking away. “but… that’s not just some guy in there. This is Eliot.” He didn’t like the way his voice got that weird edge in it but with any luck no one would hold it against him, they were all on edge and he couldn’t belive, well he could since he knew why but, god this was not a good week. “You seriously want me to watch four days of video of that being done to him?”
There was a pause as what exactly they were asking sank in.
“You’re right.” Nate said with a long sigh running a hand down his face getting that “I need a drink” look before speaking again. “Set it up anyway. I’ll go over it.”
Hardison nodded mutely glad he didn’t have to but not particularly happy about any other part of the situation.
Nate and Sophie went back into Eliot’s office and Hardison made his way into the conference room, grabbing one of his job laptops and starting to locate and prepare the files.
It was quiet, and the silence was eating away at him again. Would silence always be this disturbing to them? He could remember the screams he’d heard even over their coms and how the silence that followed felt like a deathblow. Then that blasted hood, four days with the only indication to what was going on being pain? Hardison was pretty sure it would of driven him mad. He could only imagine what that kind of vulnerability would of done to Eliot.
Hardison’s fingers stopped moving. He swallowed hard, trying to push back that thought that had wormed it’s way into the back of his mind. He did not need to give himself PTSD when Nate was willing to take the hit for him.
Still…
Hardison heard Nate walking into the room. It was a sign he was spending far too much time around Eliot and Parker that he could identify Nate by his footsteps.
“You know about a month ago, the night Eliot bailed on the planning we talked a little about this stuff and then a couple night’s later in that crappy motel it came up again.” Hardison said, even as his brain told that idiotic feeling of caring about the rest of them that had gotten way out of control in the past few months to shut up. “I kinda think I was the first person he really talked to about it.” Nate’s silence was getting to him but he kept saying things. “I don’t know man but… I kinda think if any of us.” He was laughing now for reasons he couldn’t really understand though the bitterness in it was unusual for him. “I think things are already weird enough between us. I should be the one to do this.”
There was silence a moment longer then Nate crossed the room and put the bottle and glass next to Hardison and left without a word.
Yeah, this wasn’t at all one of those days he missed working solo.
Not at all.
~*~
Eliot wasn’t entirely sure who was making that raspy panting breathing sound, though
the idea that it might be him had crossed his mind. He really hoped that sound very close to a whimper was just some fluke of his muted hearing. He was loosing track of a lot of things, always a bad idea in this situation. Keep track of time, keep track of rounds, hell get ocd and count things if you had to. It gave you something to focus on besides the pain.
Eliot was having a hard time focusing on anything. Oblivion was closing in around him again even as the voltage was turned on and a agonized scream ripped from his throat one more time and thoughts slipped away for a small eternity before the current was cut off.
How long? How long since they’d killed Parker? How long since he’d started to believe that this time was no different and no one would come for him?
How much longer should he hold out? He had his exit strategy. If he had no other choice he could bite down in just the right way to break the capsual implanted in his back molar half a decade ago in preparation for just this kind of situation. Break it open, swallow. The quick acting poison would take care of the rest.
Another round another scream.
He couldn’t catch his breath, and he couldn’t deny that those were indeed whimpers coming from him now. When Oblivion yawned in front of his sightless eyes he gave himself willingly into it.
~*~
When Eliot surfaced again he did so slowly. Pain but also feeling spread toward his extremities. Darkness was giving way but Eliot clung to it, not ready to face that again. He was too tired, to worn out, he couldn’t do this anymore.
Then he heard it. Breathing, slow and steady nearby. A weight on his head different than before. In a rush he remembered where he was, recognizing Nate’s presence.
He let himself wake up fully, his internal clock tells him it’s very late or very early.
It also tells him if he doesn’t take a shower, use the toilet, and get something in his stomach soon violence may ensue.
It draws a pained smile to his face. His body is beginning to function like a body should. It was a good sign.
Slowly Eliot opened his eyes, finding his head clearer and the pain easier to bear than before. He winced at the thought but forced first his wrists, then his arms to move. No restraints this time.
Painfully he sat up, leaning back against the couch as he waited for his body to recover from the position change. Habitually he catalogued everything in the room. Nate was sleeping in a chair not far from where Eliot’s head had been, the empty bottle by his feet suggesting he’d drank himself to sleep while watching over Eliot, though there was only one which meant he wouldn’t be as drunk as usual.
They were in Eliot’s office, though the computer set up on his desk was Hardison’s and Parker’s little plant sat on a side table next to a pile of clothing that looked like it could cloth half a dozen guys.
The office was dark beyond Hardison’s computer screen and a little lamp on Nate’s other side. It looked like everyone had either gone home or were playing a rousing game of laser tag.
Another deep breath. Eliot closed his eyes and let his awareness travel inward. He couldn’t be down long. He had to start getting better now. He mentally logged each of his injuries, aknowleging them and moving on. There was a lot of pain but not much damage. He should be back on his feet soon enough now that his body seemed to be on the rebound. It was time to press the limit a little.
It took him a moment longer than he’d like to admit to force himself to move, leveraging his body forward and into an upright position, the pain in his shoulders grew to nearly white hot as they were forced to take full weight of his arms again. He was shaking, his legs not willing to support him and weakened body wanting to curl up against this fresh onslaught.
But pain was something Eliot had to live with, he couldn’t let it slow him down. It was the brutal truth that he’d been getting soft and this was good for him, at least as far as his survival skills went.
He was almost gasping for breath and near collapse by the time he reached his clothes but Eliot only allowed himself a few minutes to kneel by the table, strain off his arms as he regathered his strength. He had to get his body working again, get the stiffness out and blood flowing. He had to move.
Eliot grabbed his clothes and forced himself back to his feet only to find the world swing out from under him as blackness edged into his vision.
A strong arm caught him around the waist, avoiding his throbbing shoulders as much as possible. “If we knew you’d be moving around this much we might have rethought the restraints.” Nate chided ignoring the fact they were a little too close for comfort and Eliot didn’t have a shirt. “Bathroom?”
“Not with your arm ‘round me.” Eliot growled, his voice horse, even as he let Nate help him toward his office’s bathroom, grateful Hardison had had the presence of mind to give him the office with a shower in the bathroom. “Just get me in there.”
Nate got him inside and gave him a look that in any other context than at a co worker who may or may not collapse at any second might have caused Eliot to punch him and left Eliot to clean himself up.
It was nearly a half hour, and Nate asking him if he was still conscious every five minutes like clockwork, damn that guy needed to loosen up a little, that Eliot emerged. In clean clothes, still wet from the shower, and beginning to feel a little bit human he sat down on the couch and didn’t feel like he’d be getting up any time in the near future. He was exhausted, and everything hurt, but he felt a little better. If he had too he would be able to move and function.
Nate pressed a mug of something warm into his hands, tea from the smell of it, his usual. “If you keep that down I’ll get you something to eat.” Nate said simply as Eliot drank, forcing himself to pace it. There was no idiocy quite like making yourself sick from drinking too much too fast after an ordeal.
It wasn’t long before he set the half empty cup on the table and leaned back, his strength and will both beginning to give out on him. How long had it been and how long it would take for him to get past this he didn’t know but it looked like oblivion would be pulling him back under soon.
“You should rest some more.” Nate said, gently trying to maneuver Eliot so he’d lie back down. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll get you back to your place.”
Eliot let himself be moved, already closing his eyes. He hoped by tomorrow he’d be able to get back to his place under his own power but… a small sigh escaped him. Maybe one more day here. It was safest here. Strange how for the first time in his criminal life he thought it was safer around people than alone. “Maybe.” He said softly in response.
“Get some sleep Eliot.” Nate said. “You’ll be back to bashing heads in no time, just get a little rest first.”
“Don’t get all chick flick on me Nate.” Eliot said grumbled. He didn’t even have to hear Nate’s frustrated sigh to know it would be there as he drifted off to sleep.