Eliot was walking stealthily down the quiet ally, knowing he had to get to the far end and down a few blocks without being seen by any of the mark's men. The team had to be especially careful with this one; the mark was more sadistic than any they'd faced. As long as they got the job done, he didn't care what his men did on the side. That's why when he was grabbed from behind and thrown into the opposite alley wall, he growled, "Nate!"

The next instant, a fist was cinched in his hair as the man pulled his head back and smashed it into the wall. Eliot lashed out but his wrist was caught in the arc of the swinging punch and used to leverage his arm into a hold pinned to his back that would have his arm snap at the right pull. Next he tried to kick but the man forced his legs apart with a knee between them and he stood so that all the good Eliot's legs did him was to keep his standing. His other arm was brought up to mirror its counterpart. The man used one hand to keep his arms in place and used the other to pull out cuffs with and extended chain. He cuffed one of his wrists, pulled the other cuff and wrapped the chain around his neck a few times tight enough to partially cut off his breathing, then used the other cuff to encircle the other wrist. Now Eliot's arms were held securely and painfully far up his back, near the base of his neck, and he was forced to breathe too shallowly. He tried to utter a warning to the team, but the man smashed his head into the wall again. Blood trickled down the hitter's face. His attacker leaned into him and whispered, "I think I'll have a little fun with you before I take you in, hmm?" He pushed his hips into the man now writhing under him, alerting the man of his attacker's arousal. Eliot tried again to twist out of his grip, earning a punch in the side, which he grunted at. The man wasted no more time in accomplishing his task, unbuckling Eliot's belt and proceeding to undo his pants before pulling them down. Eliot didn't even have the time to fight back before the man had undone his own pants and cleared away of both pairs of boxers. The hitter tensed as he felt something hard press at his ass. Yeah, this was gonna hurt like hell. It's not like he was exactly new to this, having been in his fair share of foreign prisons and torture chambers, but shit, he didn't want to face it again. Not with the team so close… he gasped as the man pressed a finger into him. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed himself farther into the wall. The man pressed and pushed his finger inside the retrieval specialist and he tried not to move too much. Speaking now would only egg him on. Now he noticed the strange feeling in his ear, the cool absence of an earbud. The guy must've taken his comm in the struggle, might've been a hit to the head. At least the team wouldn't hear this. In fact, none of them had been on foot like he was, so they weren't close enough to possibly find him in time for anything. He'd either be dead or missing when they came looking for him. Just as well.

The man pushed another finger into him, and he tensed up more. He really didn't want to have to deal with the fallout of this again. It was the worst he'd undertaken in past attacks and far too personal for him to brush off. This was going to cut deep.

He didn't think any of this for the sake of self-pity or desperation. He had to be brutally honest with himself, especially now, so he was.

With a third finger introduced, Eliot arched against the wall and his breathing hitched. He tried to pull away but had nowhere to go. the man invading him bit his ear playfully and muttered, "Just you wait." After messing with the hitter for another minute, he pulled out the intrusive digits. Eliot breathed lividly for a split-second before he gasped as the man forced his hand into him. Eliot controlled his breathing as the man pushed farther into him and felt around. He pushed at different spots until he found what he'd been looking for. Suddenly, Eliot's gasps of pain turned to those of a different nature. He froze, refusing to curl into the man's unwanted touch. Growing impatient (and not noticing the sweat growing on Eliot's brow from the resistance to the warm, fake arousal pooling in his gut), the man pulled out his hand and moved something else to Eliot's entrance. The hitter cringed at the thought. The next instant, when the man shoved in viciously, the hitter couldn't hold in a choked scream.

When Nate had heard nothing but radio silence from the hitter for an hour, he asked Hardison why.

The hacker then realized that Eliot's comm had been off for as long. He hadn't checked in once.

"Hardison, drive along the route to his last post. He was supposed to check in when he got there. Apparently, he didn't."

The Hacker was driving down the road adjacent to the hitter's projected path when he spotted something down the alley. He parked and jumped out, looking around and narrowing his eyes. I It was dark and creepy. He so didn't do dark and creepy. He continued down the alley until he neared the something he'd seen. He backed away immediately once he realized who it was.

Eliot.

He was sitting against the wall, one leg brought up with an arm propped up on it… with a cuff and chain hanging from his wrist. He was really dirty, and bloody, but there was no carnage to be seen. He looked exhausted and worn down. He mustn't have heard the hacker approach him because when Alec moved toward him again, he flinched.

"Hey, what happened? What the hell is that?"

The hitter didn't respond, he just rubbed at his darkly bruised neck and breathed deeply, eyes downcast. Alec thought he saw the imprint of a chain in his neck. Something bad had happened to his friend.

"Eliot, listen, we gotta get outta here, I don't know what happened but there are too many of the mark's people on watch around here."

The hitter closed his eyes and leaned his pounding head back against the cool wall. Hardison noticed the thick trail of blood from his forehead and cringed. He kneeled next to his friend.

"At least let me help you up, man. You look like shit."

Eliot shook his head. "Naw, think I'll just relax a minute…"

"No, I really think we should go right now El-"

"I said no." The retrieval specialist growled, his eyes flashing something dangerous.

The hacker reached out to grab his friend's shoulder to ask what was wrong, but before he even came into contact with it, the hitter grabbed his wrist. Hardison looked down and saw that Eliot was shaking, along with his usually unwavering grip. He instantly let go of the hacker and let his hand fall to the ground.

Alec pulled out his comm and put it in his pocket. Eliot noticed the gesture and looked at him with weary eyes.

This time he spoke softly, sure the question would go unanswered. "Man, what happened to you?"

After an eternity of staring at the ground, Eliot closed his eyes and sighed. "Let's go."

It turned out he needed help to walk, a fact that astounded the hacker. Still, he assisted without a word. Must've been one hell of a fight, he thought.

When they got to the van, Eliot just laid on the floor in the back. That was fine with the driver, as then he didn't have to deal with his friend's hinky behavior.

It was a long drive.