Leverage, Nate/Eliot, Waiting for him to wake up
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Wake Up And Prove To Me You're Alright
Nathan paced the length of the room before returning to the bedside and looking at the man lying there again. "You need to wake up," he growled at the bed's occupant before pacing the same route again, what little remained of his composure in danger of fraying at the edges.
It had seemed like nothing at the time, no big deal and although they'd all seen it happen, seen the blow which had sent Eliot staggering, he'd also got back up and carried on fighting. They'd all made it out unscathed and at first it had seemed like Eliot would have nothing more than a little bruising and a small cut above his eye to show for it.
They'd been driving away in the van, each of them bubbling with the excitement of a job done well, when Eliot had suddenly said, "N-n-n-nate!" and that had been the first acknowledgement that anything even could be wrong. The word had been drawn out a mix of drawl and stammer unlike anything they'd ever heard from him before. Almost instantly they'd all turned their attention to Eliot in time to see his eyes roll up and him slump forward unconscious. The excited babble had turned to frightened squeals and shrieks of "Get him to the hospital" and the like.
They were lucky they'd been so close was what the doctor had said, the pressure building up inside his skull since the blow was too great for him to have survived much longer. There'd been warnings for the future and reassurances that this wait was to be expected but nothing beyond Eliot waking up and proving that he was fine would be enough.
He turned and paced back again, looking up into eyes just fluttering open and struggling to focus. He rushed to Eliot's side and leant over. "Nnate?" Eliot's voice was slurred, still filled with sleep. "Wwhat? Where?"
Nathan released the tight grip he'd got on Eliot's hand when he saw him wince, instead bringing the fingers up to his lips to press a kiss to them before he began to scold, "What the fuck did you think you were doing? Collapsing like that? Don't you know I need you? How can you take risks like that?"
Eliot's confusion was clear in his eyes and Nathan softened, sitting down on the edge of Eliot's bed, still gripping his hand and beginning to explain just how close they'd come to losing him. Nathan felt the tired squeeze as Eliot tried to reassure him, the soft slide of words that sink inside and heal the breaking pieces, knitting them back together again, "Ssorry, Nate. 'm gonna be okay, I promise. Just need to sleep a bit more."
Eliot's eyes were already closing and Nathan smiled, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "Yeah, you sleep. I'll be here when you wake up," he murmured softly.