A/N. Some time ago I have translated in Russian Letting Go, ScoutLover's fanfic, and shortly afterwards understood that I know what happened next in the plot. I wrote this story first in Russian (it's uploaded here, you can find it in my profile), and now started to translate it into English. Not English-Beta-ed, all mistakes - grammatical and punctuations - are all mine :).
Part 1
Typically, Eliot was waking up instantly - over the years that he spent first in the army, and then in various military units, that were acting not always officially, the ability to switch in momentarily from sleep to wakefulness was a vital necessity. But this time there was no sudden awakening, as if from an unexpected firefight that began straight above his head. He came round gradually, like after fainting - although maybe it was true? - and at first just laid there with his eyes closed, not thinking about anything and trying not to focus on the aches in his body; somewhere he felt nagging pain, somewhere - drawing pain. Then memories slowly began to come.
Yesterday they came to his room, helped him to get to the bed, undressed him, helped to lie down and gave him an anesthetic - he remembered it more or less clearly. And after it, only some fragments were left in his mind: Nate's words he heard as through thick layer of cotton wool that they should move out of the hotel and lie low in one of their shelters; Parker was saying something about emergency ambulance... It seemed that they put him on a gurney and had taken away somewhere; there were the engine noise, shaking, pain throughout the body, someone's gentle hand stroking his hair, a soothing whisper...
They stole an ambulance for him?!
It looks that way because the mattress under him is clearly orthopedic, and nobody in ordinary hotels will fork over it. And he definitely heard voices of Hardison and Parker who were disputing about something - they would unlikely spend so much time at bickering in the hallway of the hotel. It was time to open his eyes, or more correctly, a good eye, to make sure that the team really transported him to the apartment.
The first thing he saw was a chair, where Nate was sitting and very carefully was looking at him. Despite the tightly drawn curtains, it was evident that he had black circles under his eyes, and he was quite rumpled.
"Where am I?" Eliot asked hoarsely, involuntarily wincing because of discomfort in the lower back and ribs. He was feeling pulse in his temples, and it was horrible.
"How do you feel? Headache? Nausea?"
"Hey, not so quickly," Eliot muttered, trying to move very carefully, because his left hand became numb quite noticeably. He clenched and unclenched his fingers for several times, twisted the wrist - no difficulties have arisen, but at the slightest movement with the elbow his shoulder started to remind itself very remarkably.
"We discussed situation and decided that you will be safer and calmer not in the hotel, but at our headquarters. After that, everything was very simple: Parker and Hardison had borrowed a gurney from a hospital and an ambulance car with a full range of medicines for first aid, and now you are here!" Nate pulled the chair close to the bed. "In the process of transportation you repeatedly demanded to leave you alone and declared that you can manage everything without us. Remember when you tried to resist, when Hardison said that we all will take care of you until you finally get well?"
Eliot frowned, but could not remember anything.
"No."
Nate grinned.
"Hardison will certainly remind you and even will show a bruise on his wrist."
"I had done something with him?!" Eliot tensed slightly because he knew himself too well.
"Just took his hand and ... uh... Let us just say you were lightly against our proposal. Fortunately, the next moment you fainted, otherwise Hardison's hand would have had a hard time. I hope you are not going to try to over-persuade us? Because I repeat it again - we will stay with you as long as you can move on your own, without our help. And, by the way, it is not discussed."
"No need to stay with me. I'm OK, it's not the first time."
"Not the first time, but sometimes it is necessary to change something," Nate pointedly raised his eyebrow. "Life should not stand still."
Eliot grimaced discontentedly, but he had neither the strength nor the desire to argue.
"Sophie, Hardison and Parker are in the next room, they asked to call them as soon as you will regain consciousness. They worry about you since yesterday evening."
"No need to worry about me. Just a couple of bruises and a slight concussion. It is usually much worse after a sniper's bullet," Eliot began to rub gently his sore forearm with a good hand, because numbness stubbornly did not pass.
Nate stood up.
"Can I draw back curtains? Today is a wonderful sunny weather."
"No," Eliot frowned. "It is much nicer to be in the half-light if you have a concussion."
"Then tell me exactly how the process of your treatment should go further. What medication do you need? Should I have any special bandaging materials? If something necessary is not in the set of the ambulance, Parker and Hardison will get it."
"What should we get?" The door opened and Parker was first who flew into the bedroom, an unusually serious Hardison went in after her, and Sophie with worrisome face remained standing in the doorway.
Nate saw a grimace on Eliot's face and turned around:
"Hey, people, not so loud and not all at once, he just came to his senses."
"We heard your voices and suddenly thought that something is wrong, since you did not call us immediately, as you promised," Sophie gave Nate an upbraiding look and approached the bed. Unusually silent Parker and Hardison remained standing behind Ford. "How do you feel? Do you need another tablet of Percocet?"
Elliot shook his head, but emerged nausea quickly reminded him that with a concussion it is better to avoid unnecessary movements as much as possible:
"Percocet is a good thing only in the early hours, otherwise you will start getting used to it, and I do not want after a while to endure withdrawals too. I'll manage it, it did not particularly hurt."
"How about some tasty meal?" Parker inquired over Nate's shoulder. "Sophie was so excited during the rest of the night that could not sleep and baked some of branded cupcakes on her grandmother's recipe. Bring you a couple? And what will you drink?"
Eliot, who always deeply distrusted in the culinary talents of the team members, threw an expressive glance at Nate, which he interpreted unambiguously:
"Parker, first he needs peace and quiet, not cupcakes. If Eliot will need anything, he will certainly tell us, won't he? Hardison, be so kind, open a window. No, draw curtain aside a little, just for some fresh air. Now let's speak seriously - what do we have in terms of the day? Bandaging? Ice packs? Ointments? What would you like to eat? And do not make such a dissatisfied face, you will not get up and go to the kitchen to cook you until you will recover fully."
"I googled and found out that a bed rest is most favorable with a concussion and numerous bruises," butted Hardison, shaking the newest Smartphone, which will be on the market only after a couple of years.
"Wow, you're our Captain Obvious!" Eliot muttered. "Enlighten me, please, what other useful information did you manage to find?"
"You should not make any sudden movements," rattled hacker, "watch TV, drink beer, talk on a cell phone..."
"Stop!" Nate interrupted him. "I think Eliot with his experience knows better than us and Google how to treat his wounds."
"First of all, I have to stand up now," he replied quietly.
"But you cannot, you have a concussion!" Sophie absolutely theatrically wrung her hands. Eliot once again was surprised how this amazingly talented grifter can be so utterly mediocre on stage. "Tell me what you want, and we will bring it!"
"If necessary - will steal it!" cheerfully added Parker.
Eliot looked dolefully at Nate - in addition to permanent nausea he began to get a headache from loud voices, and he did not want Sophie and Parker to stay in the room during the further conversation. Ford raised an eyebrow, but he was the "Brain" of the team for good reason, - quickly realized what was going on.
"Girls, leave us, please; we - I and Hardison - can handle it."
Parker has already opened her mouth to ask a question, but Sophie took her by the elbow and gently led to the exit of the bedroom:
"Come on, I need you to clarify something about yesterday's safe."
"Did not we yesterday..." Parker started, but stumbled on Nate's warning look and obediently followed Sophie.
When the thief and the grifter closed the door, Nate understandingly turned to Eliot:
"You need to visit bathroom, right?"
"Today I just cannot get up myself and go there," he admitted very reluctantly after a long pause. "Tomorrow your help is no longer needed."
"Come on, dude," Hardison gently patted Eliot's healthy shoulder. "We're friends. And friends always and in everything help each other."
"Well, then we are trying to get up?" Nate looked at Eliot. He slowly nodded and mentally grimaced, looking forward to a full bouquet of discomfort feelings. Nate sat on the edge of the bed, threw back the blanket and, as yesterday, could not resist from the silent curses.
"Damn, they run you down with the Hammer? Twice? Or with the Abrams?"
"Everything would have looked much worse if they had had brass knuckles and truncheons," Elliot sighed, holding out his hand. "Hardison, I'll try to sit down, and you insure me from the back."
"But not rudely," Nate warned hacker, "slowly and smoothly."
Eliot squeezed Ford's hand, gathered his strength - his ribs immediately responded with pain - and slowly began to sit up in bed. After a moment, Alec's hands appeared on his lower back and gently, but with a completely unnecessary force pushed him forward. Elliot jerked and stifled a cry, his eyes shaded with acute pain; Hardison apparently forgot that the area of his kidneys is one big bruise.
"Hands off!" Nate's reaction, as always, was at its height; Hardison gasped in fright and immediately recoiled from Eliot, who now sat on the bed, grasping one hand to Nate's hand, with his healthy eye closed, and breathed heavily.
"I'm an idiot, I forgot about your back. I'm sorry," Hardison's voice was so disconcerted and apologetic that Eliot paltered with truth a little and whispered hoarsely:
"Forget it, everything is all right. It was not as painful as it may seem from the outside."
He was sitting, holding Nate's hand, trying to catch his breath, which is quite difficult to do when your whole left side is one entire bruise. Still with his eyes closed, he heard the door opened and Sophie's voice with explicit hint of hysteria in it:
"What happened? Do you need our help?"
"It's my fault," hacker answered dejectedly somewhere behind. "I grabbed Eliot by the waist, and there all those bruises are..."
"Sophie, please, shut the door. We really have everything in order," Nate said soothingly. "Take Parker away and make sure that she will not break into any bank to destress and because of excitement for Eliot will not do something wrong. I and Hardison can handle everything."
"Come on, Parker. Do you remember that a long time ago you promised me to show how to tie a double bowknot? Now is a good time to do it..."
"Have you noticed that Eliot have boxers by Calvin Klein?" cheerfully exclaimed Parker from somewhere afar. Then the door closed and they could not hear what Sophie answered at this unexpected remark.
"Guys, I do not know how about you, but I definitely don't know that our Parker knows brands of men's underwear," Hardison said in amazement with perfectly round eyes. Eliot, who more or less came to himself, raised his head and said fiercely:
"One more comment, and a double bowknot will be on your neck!"
"So, we more or less happily had sat down," Nate quickly turned the conversation to a more urgent topic. "What to do now? I'll have to fix somehow your shoulder, right?"
"Take any long broad cloth, tie the ends. Put my hand in the one end of the ring, the other throw on my neck."
"I guess we'll have to borrow Sophie's scarf," thoughtfully suggested Nate. "Hardison, go and take it, I'm sure she will not mind using her Hermes for a such purpose."
"Yes, boss!"
When hacker closed the door, Eliot for the first time during the whole morning looked straight into Nate's eyes.
"I repeat, do not worry about me so much, but..." he made a definite effort, because from military times he was not used to thank anyone for care, because it was taken for granted, "...thank you."
"It's the least we can do for you. In the future, it is not necessary to try to evade us," Ford gave Eliot a serious glance. "Your problems are now our problems, and we always will solve them together."
Eliot did not answer, but he knew that Nate had interpreted his silence correctly. For a couple of minutes they sat calm, Eliot was gathering strength before going to the bathroom, and Nate supported him. Then Hardison brought the scarf and made a bit clumsy sling, they with all precautions put Eliot's arm in it - he frowned, but still managed to keep himself from moaning - and finally helped him to stand on his feet. Like last night, he grabbed Nate's shoulder with his good hand, and Hardison, who have learned from bitter experience, only stood near them, just in case.
Eliot could not straighten fully, the pain was radiating from the lower back to the abdomen, he felt dizziness, nausea have become even stronger. He could not breathe deeply to ensure a greater flow of oxygen to the blood and thus reduce the pain - it's all the damn ribs! His knees every now and then doubled up under him, his mouth went dry, and if not Nate's support, he was likely fell to the floor shamefully.
"So, let's go bit by bit? Or it's better to sit down again?"
"Let's go," Eliot whispered, realizing that in the near future he possibly will not be able to do another attempt to get up.
When they finally had hobbled to the bathroom, sweat was dripping from Eliot's temples, and heart was pounding not where it was supposed to be according to anatomy, but somewhere in the throat. But they hobbled and even without any problems went inside; hacker wide opened a door in advance.
"Hardison, now take out a clean towel of the locker and hang it near the sink," Nate commanded. "And then go out, please."
Eliot twitched, as if from a blow:
"Nate, you also go away. I'm not so weak and disabled, and somehow can manage everything without both of you!"
"You have persistent dizziness," gently reminded Nate, "and only one good arm. And if you will lose your balance and fall?"
"We lack your fractured skull, dude," sympathetically agreed Hardison. "The bathroom is full of angles, which can hurt you seriously if you fall."
"Get out," quietly asked Eliot and, forcing himself, added, "please."
Oh, this little "please" was a continuous struggle for him! He has never asked anything for the last... well, minimum twenty years!
Nate clearly heard in his voice something that made him grab Hardison's elbow and leave the bedroom with the hacker, pre-warning:
"Do not lock the door. If you feel bad, call us immediately, we will be next to the door and will quickly come to the rescue."
"But only if I'll call you," Eliot agreed hoarsely, gripping the edge of the sink with his good hand and trying to stop knees from shaking.
Finally the bathroom door was closed, and he remembered how many years ago in a far hot country a blast threw him for a couple of meters away, and then later, in the hospital, each time when he was getting out of bed, it was always an excruciating pain in the back. Well, he had passed it once, and will undergo it now somehow.
To stand without anybody's support was difficult and painful; he did his best but could not suppress a moan. Urine, as he had expected, was pink, with a pair of blood clots, but fortunately not in life-threatening amounts. There immediately was an excited Hardison's voice behind the door:
"Eliot, how are you?"
"All right," he groaned through gritted teeth, struggling to keep himself from cursing, because fierce pain pierced his shoulder after an unsuccessful move; it felt as if a hot needle was stuck in the joint. "Just give me a minute."
That minute he spent staring in the mirror at his shattered face. Lucky that all the teeth are still in place; eye will gradually open, it is not the most serious current problem. Cuts on his cheek and forehead are not so deep and don't need to be sewed; simple Band-Aids, that someone from the team stuck on cuts at night, stopped the bleeding.
The bruise on his side had all shades of dark-red and blue, and he still was lucky that there were no broken ribs. Yesterday pain in his side was so unbearable that he was sure he has at least a couple of fractures in ribs, but now, having examined himself very carefully, had convinced that it is just a strong bruise. No need to worry about kidneys despite the blood clots in the urine - he just needs rest and time.
But Eliot did not like the shoulder - edema already was quite decent, the whole hand up to the wrist ached disgustingly, and he should not have even think about some movements with the elbow. He must take care on the joint, hands are his main weapon, and any restriction on mobility because of undertreated injuries will be only benefit for his future enemies.
Thinking over a treatment plan, Eliot somehow managed to have a wash with help of one hand, or rather he splashed cold water on the healthy side of the face. Silently whispering all oaths and curses that he knew, he wiped himself with a damp towel - not a chance taking a shower or a hot bath in the coming days! - and realized that if he does not sit down right now, he it is likely to lose consciousness. Too much physical activity for the first day, he thought, grabbed the sink stronger and called for Nate.
Nate and Hardison entered the bathroom literally after a second, so that Eliot, despite the gradual clouding of mind, still managed to ask with a weak voice:
"What, you were standing at the door and listening?"
"Of course! What if you fainted and did not have time to call us?" outraged Hardison and catched him by the arm.
"Let's have a little rest," busily interrupted Nate. "There's bath ledge right behind you, we are holding you. Slowly, gently, sit down... That's it."
Eliot hardly caught his breath. Now he will sit here for some time, until his pulse, that was way over the limit, calms down a little, and then he has to pull through a painful ruck march back to the bed. And he will manage it, because with the help of Nate and Hardison - let's say honestly! - it will not be as bad as if he had to move alone. He just will drink some water because he has a cobweb in his throat from stress and pain.
Road back to the bed seemed to him much longer than to the bathroom. Every few steps they had to stop so that Eliot could recover his breath and endure ever-increasing attacks of dizziness and nausea. He could not even moan, because the last vestiges of strength he was spending to stand on his feet. He remembered vaguely, being in almost swooning state, how Nate and Hardison helped him to lie down, only managed to ask them to turn him on the healthy side and put a pillow under his back - and fell into long awaited unconsciousness.
To be continued