A/N: So here's chapter 2, as requested. Thanks go out to those that reviewed, favorited and followed this, I just hope I can keep up! There's a little comfort in here, but of course following some internal considerations of Nate. He does so love to think. Well, please enjoy!

Nate stood with his back to Eliot's door, tilting his head to listen in; the room was silent so instead he tilted it back. As the leader of the team he found it extremely distressing to have no idea what to do. For all his clever tricks and intricate plans, he couldn't fix a broken man. And that was his main concern: was Eliot broken?

The old Eliot would have never so much as hesitated in front of them, but now he was a nervous wreck: all flinches, winces and stutters. If even Parker noticed that he seemed scared and unsure, the signs must have been beyond obvious to the grifter. Sophie had pushed him, sure he needed to talk, and he'd only lashed out. Nate considered that the hitter may have lost his resolve and possibly would never be their Eliot again.

On the other hand, there was no one more resilient or strong in his line of work or anywhere else; the fact that he was still alive proved that. The southern man looked young and this appearance was supported by his charming demeanor toward most people. Most hitters, though, either don't live past their late twenties or die too quickly for it to matter. Eliot was an old man in this sense. His eyes showed years of hardship, a statement blared by his scars and habits. Nate scolded himself for his lack of faith; the hitter would get through this and use it to his advantage. He'd learn from his mistakes and be more cautious from now on, despite how Hardison mocked him for his paranoia. Once Eliot had growled in response, "When you've done the things I've done, there's no such thing as paranoia." Well, if nothing else, the hitter would be very careful now.

He walked into the main room to see Parker and Hardison lying on the couch. The hacker was lying behind the thief who had her arms tucked beneath her head as she breathed deeply, almost inaudibly. They must have been asleep to go more than a few seconds without moving or bickering. Nathan was jealous of their innocence, their trust and hope that allowed a sound night's rest. He glanced around, seeing Sophie was in the kitchen area pouring a mug of coffee. At least he wasn't the only one unable to sleep.

She handed him a filled mug and they drank the dark liquid before she spoke up. "What are we going to do?"

The mastermind set down his drink with a sigh. "I don't have any experience with this, I've only ever dealt with fraud and stolen goods. When Eliot warned us we were out of our league, I thought he was putting on a show. We've taken down huge marks before so I thought we could handle it. I didn't listen to him and now..."

The grifter held his forearm gently. "This is not your fault. We should have listened to Eliot but we've done all we can. Now it's up to him."

"You're the best at what you do, Sophie. You can read him, you do it on days when he's not too exhausted to keep up the act. I need to know, is he..." Nate spluttered for a moment, unable to say it out loud.

"Broken? Definitely not." She rolled her eyes at Nate's confused look (which he tried to mask with an expression of fake understanding). "This is Eliot Spencer we're talking about. He's spent years on end fighting wars, breaking the law, and fighting professionals. I'm sure he's gotten familiar with the standards of foreign crime lords' dungeons and prisons. He can easily handle extreme pressure. He's in bad form but coping as well as an emotionally repressed fighter could after that hell. If he'd been broken, he'd either be insane, unstoppable or dead."

Nate nodded in concurrence, slightly less worried now. "Fair enough, but why are you so upset? You left his room in tears."

She paused to find the words. "He'll heal physically and he's remarkably still with us, but Moreau... he did the most awful things... I've seen this game before. Not as vicious as enforcing it with torture so brutal, but it's a classic move. He was manipulating Eliot using everything he had against him to train him to be his own personal toy. Keep in mind that Moreau is probably the only man he fears. He knows Eliot's life, his habits, his mind; he used everything against him. Eliot is not weak, but he has just spent weeks at the hands of his most powerful, resourceful, creative enemy. I'd be surprised if he could ever heal completely."

Nate ran a hand down his face. "I know, I know. But what does he need?"

"He needs trust."

"We trust him with our lives every day."

Sophie tilted her head. "We're treating him like a victim. Eliot is our hitter, our protector. He knows that if we don't trust him to protect us, if we don't respect him to know what he can do, we're easy targets. He can't do his job if we pity him. Do you honestly think that being handcuffed makes him feel trusted? That our forcing him to confess and share makes him feel stronger? Moreau may have beaten him down, but we aren't helping him up."

"He needs the cuffs so he doesn't lose control."

"You know better than that Nathan. He was hanging from his wrists for who knows how long. That and feeling restrained just adds to his panic. You saw him when he woke up, his first instinct wasn't to hurt us, but to defend himself. He's only still cuffed because he thinks we fear him. He doesn't think he has our trust and he doesn't believe he'd deserve it."

"And the way he's been so open…"

"He knows it's worse to not know. He's showing that he's willing to sacrifice his pride to lighten our load. He endured torture to save us and he thinks he still has to."

"So we're only adding to his pain."

"We have to show Eliot that we respect him but he can't always put us first."

"When he wakes up, then?"

"I don't think he'll be able to sleep until we do."

"Then let's go."

The two headed to the guest room. With a quick glance toward Sophie, Nate knocked lightly.

Pause. "Yeah?" His rasping voice was soft.

The mastermind slowly opened the door. Eliot lay propped up against the headboard, shifting absently trying to relieve his shoulders. His face pinched from the shifting of his ribs but he remained focused on them.

"Whaddya want?"

Nate blanked so Sophie stepped in. "We want to apologize for how we've treated you. You've been so good to us and we, well we just slapped on some gauze, handcuffed you and then made you talk to make us feel better when it wasn't for your sake, but our own selfishness."

Eliot frowned. "You're doin' the best you can."

"That's the point, Eliot, we're not. Are you telling me you'd rather stay locked up?" Nate's words seemed to annoy the hitter.

"I gotta stay cuffed, Nate, ya know that. A'int gonna put y'all in danger for pride."

Nate raised his eyebrows. "Right, because you're such a threat to us in your state. Tell me, what was your first instinct when you woke up?"

The hitter looked to Sophie, who only nodded sadly. "You read me?"

"Can you blame me? You're an open book."

"Yeah, well it a'int my fault." Eliot mumbled.

"None of it is. You don't have to punish yourself. You saved us, now let us save you. Can I unlock the cuffs?"

He rolled his eyes, "Fine."

Nate pulled out the key and gently unlocked the bracelets. First his right arm, then his left was released. He groaned as his arms left the position they'd been in for too long. Moving them very slowly, he brought them to his sides. It felt like they were being torn off but he had to move them sometime. A hitter wasn't a hitter without them.

"Better?"

"Yeah," Eliot's strained voice jogged Sophie.

"I'll go get you some water. Are you hungry?"

"Look like I been livin' in a five-star hotel, woman?" He growled mockingly. Her subsequent grin made his lips quirk. When she left, he turned to the team's leader. "How're the others?"

"Sleeping. They trust you to take your time and heal. They just want it to be like it was."

"You think it'll ever be the same?"

"I think things have changed, but they always do. We're a group of the most wanted thieves in the world, and at least one of us is insane. Nothing will ever be normal. That said, I'm sure it'll eventually level out to what we can call normal. At least, normal for us."

Eliot accepted the answer, taking note that Nate believed he could get past this. Parker and Hardison seemed to agree. Sophie, well, if she thought he was beyond help, she'd be coddling him to no end. They trusted him without the cuffs and swore to protect him.

Maybe having a family wasn't too bad after all.

A/N: Aww, there's that charming and sentimental (albeit rarely) dork we all know and love. I think we're moving towards more fluff, but don't worry, our boy's not done fighting yet ;) Review if you so wish, it sure does make my day!