Nate was fairly sure he was suffering from sleep deprivation at the very least. It was the only justification he could come with to explain the ideas his mind was coming up with. For example, he was fairly sure at this point that Leverage Inc. should qualify for some kind of "frequent flyer" points at the hospital. After all, it isn't like this was the first time they had been in a waiting room, pacing and praying, waiting for news on one of the team – usually Eliot. Of course, given that they tried to not use the same hospital twice, and definitely tried to use different IDs if they could, implementing such a plan could be problematic.

He also wondered why, as someone who had an almost pathological hatred of hospitals, he so often found himself spending endless hours there. Of course, he knew why. His team was his family, and just as he had known years earlier, you stay for family.

Sophie sat quietly beside him, occasionally mumbling words of encouragement, as much to herself as to him. She hadn't really been in a position to see how badly hurt Eliot was, but the mere fact he was still unconscious was a bad sign. Add in the abject terror in Hardison's eyes, and the unnerving silence from Parker, and Sophie was deeply concerned.

Trying to keep from thinking about what he had seen, Hardison focused on reviewing the information in the book they had liberated from the vault. The passwords contained in the notes gave him all the access he needed to clear out bank accounts and forward incriminating files, through a long series of firewalls to protect the source, to law enforcement, homeland security, IRS and any other targets he could find that would make Dupont's continued existence miserable. So he sat, pounding at the keyboard as his only avenue to vent the frustration and rage he felt. A voice in his head kept asking him why he hadn't pulled the trigger on the bastard that had put Eliot in the hospital. A louder voice, that actually sounded a lot like Eliot, kept telling him he wasn't a killer. He knew that if he had pulled the trigger, Eliot would have been the one to deal with the guilt of being responsible for changing that fact. He had enough guilt in his subconscious and conscious mind – and Hardison tried to take solace in knowing his hesitation had saved Eliot one more demon.

Parker's location throughout the waiting was the only uncertainty. Betting money normally would have her in an air duct watching as much as she could. Since Eliot was in surgery and she knew going in there would put him at risk because she'd have to stop the air filters, she was more likely literally climbing the walls somewhere else, hopefully out of sight. They all still had the comms on, and she knew they would call her back when there was something to call her back to. Like the news Eliot was ready to go home. That was the only news she wanted to hear.

Dr. Edgerton looked at the heavily sedated young man in recovery. He didn't for an instant accept that his patient had gotten tangled in wire at a construction site. This was no simple accident. But the cause was not his concern, only the treatement. He couldn't remember seeing damage this severe since he'd finished his service in Afghanistan. The wound had been every bit as horrific as any IED could inflict. And having seen some of the scars and x-rays for his patient, he felt the comparison was probably appropriate. He stared at the bed for a couple more minutes, trying to put together in his head the information he would be sharing with the family waiting outside. The OR nurse had already told them Mr. Simmons had survived the surgery and would soon be moved from recovery to ICU, at which time they could have a short visit. They needed to be fully briefed, prepared, on his condition before they saw him. Even with warning, seeing him was going to scare the hell out them.

"You are the family members here with Mr. Simmons?"

Nate stood quickly and stepped up. "Yes – Eliot is my brother-in-law. Can we see him now?"

"In a couple of minutes. I'd like to talk to you first." Nate felt a pit in his stomach that went to the floor and beyond. That look coming from a doctor was never promising. They all sat, and waited.

"We've done everything we can for Eliot for the moment. The lesser injuries have been addressed. The bullet wound in the shoulder was clean with very little muscle or nerve damage, and the laceration on his left hand, while deep, doesn't appear to have done any permanent damage. There may be some difficulty with movement at first, but some physio will deal with that. There was a fair bit of blood loss from the combination of injuries, but that has been dealt with as well."

"OK – that's the good news" Nate said. "What's the bad?"

The doctor moistened his lips, stalling a couple more seconds. He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. "His throat was severely damaged. His larynx was crushed, abrasions and deep bruising to his vocal cords. There is extensive nerve, and muscle damage. We had to do a tracheotomy – there was no way to intubate him. Without that, breathing would be impossible for him at this time. We've repaired what we can at this time, but there is so much inflammation, so much damage, that we couldn't address it all during this initial surgery. It was just too stressful for him right now. I've put a call in to a top otolaryngologist" he paused at the puzzled look, "throat specialist. This guy is the best I know."

Ironically, Nate wasn't sure at this point he could get his own vocal cords to work. Finally finding his voice, he asked the question the others wanted to, but were too afraid of the response to try.

"What's the likely outcome doc?"

"I'm not trying to stall you, or avoid answering. It really is too early to know, but I can tell where we stand right now. Eliot cannot speak, can barely swallow or breathe. We have him heavily sedated to keep him as still as possible. Movement will only make matters worse. His head is braced and his neck wrapped to keep him restrained."

"Doctor that could be a problem. Eliot has, let's call them issues, with restraint. He has had some experiences in the past that aren't exactly conducive to his cooperation if he wakes up tied down."

"PTSD? I'm guessing from some of the scars and x-rays that your brother-in-law saw action in either the Gulf or Afghanistan."

"Something like that." Nate replied vaguely.

"I understand. If I could, I'd remove them, but it is imperative that he be kept as still as possible. We can keep him sedated for now. My suggestion would be that we bring him around when you can be with him. Hopefully that will help to keep him avoid any anxiety."

"When will this specialist be able to see him?"

"I'm not sure yet – haven't heard back from him. I will keep you in the loop on any plans. Eliot should be ready for visitors in about 30 minutes. Why don't you all get a bit of fresh air and come back then. I'll leave word that you can stay with him as long as it will help him to stay calm."

An hour later Nate sat by Eliot's bed, carefully holding onto his bandaged hand, hoping his presence could be felt by the damaged man, and equally hoping his fears couldn't. Sophie was on the other side resting a hand on his arm, while Parker and Hardison stood at the foot of the bed, looking on, silently stunned. Although they had seen more of the injury than the others had, and had watched him agonize through the act that caused this, somehow it was worse seeing him lying helpless here, connected to monitors, tubes and medications. As horrendous as it was when it was all happening, they had been able to help, to do something to come to his aid. Now, in this sterile imposing environment, all they could do was wait. Hardison and Parker were not equipped for waiting.

A casual observer might think they had not moved from those positions over the next 72 hours, as that is how they were again situated when Dr. Edgerton came to check on his patient.

"We are going to start reducing the sedation to bring him around. As much as he needs the rest, he should be getting off the medications as soon as it is realistic to do so, and I think we can start the process. I don't imagine I need to ask if at least one of you can be here at all times."

Sophie smiled at him. "I doubt that will be an issue. What did the specialist have to say?"

"He wasn't overly optimistic, but at the same time, he didn't dismiss Eliot's chances of recovery. There is a great deal of damage, and we have to prioritize the repairs. Obviously, easing his breathing is primary, as is restoring his ability to swallow properly. The inflammation has gone down somewhat but it will be a few more days before we have a clear idea of what we will be dealing with. There will be more surgery in his future to try to reconstruct the damaged area."

"What about his voice? We ever gonna get to hear that growl again?"

The doctor looked at Hardison. "Growl?" "It was kind of his trademark. You have to know him to get it."

"As I said, breathing and swallowing are the priority. You have to keep in mind there was a massive amount of damage done. The fact he survived it is a miracle in itself."

"That your roundabout way of saying he won't be talking again?"

"I can't say anything for certain yet."

"Yeah – that pretty much answers the question." As Hardison turned away Parker latched onto his arm and pulled herself close to him, willing herself not to cry.

Dr. Edgerton left the room with the firm conviction that despite his best efforts he had let them all down.