A/N: Here's the update! Was ecstatic to see so many reviews for the last chap, so many people are on board for this sequel and I am more than happy to provide. Milydo, jediyam, BookLover223, TexasPrissy, lilz54, SeaStarr, luna-pendragon, Wah-Keetcha (haha, you really think I could start a trend?? Thanks! What a compliment!), Petpolka, Mayhem21, vickyloka, and MusicEstVita all dropped me a line and have made me an incredibly happy girl. Don't you want me to be a happy girl? Then you should review too!! lol. Oh and, btw everybody, I don't know about other writers, but please don't EVER apologize for leaving long, detailed reviews for me. That's EXACTLY what I want. Be as long winded and gushy as you like, lol. Makes my whole flippin week!!
Thanks to my wonderful beta vickyloka who is beyond all things awesome and takes time out of her busy day to indulge me. Luvya! Also, I have recently discovered a penchent for creating Eliot themed icons/avatars that I'm gonna be posting on livejournal pretty soon so keep a lookout and in the meantime...Enjoy! -pj
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Nate gripped the armrests tightly, but wisely chose not to comment on Eliot's driving. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of letting the distressed young man drive in his current state, but he knew where they were going. Nate didn't, so there hadn't been much discussion on the matter.
Still, after the third time Eliot cut off another vehicle and sped through a changing yellow light, Nate decided to try to distract him from their current situation somewhat.
"So, how long have Savannah and Logan been in town?"
Eliot glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his stern expression not changing.
"Sav's been here a week. The hospital offered her a job as their new Surgical Director and she accepted," he explained, keeping his eyes on the road though Nate seriously doubted he was seeing much of anything, "Logan stayed behind in Seattle to finish up with his tutor and say 'goodbye' to friends. I didn't know he was here yet."
Nate nodded, grimacing when they took a left turn at breakneck speeds.
"And we're headed…where exactly?"
"First to Savannah's new apartment. If she's not there…" he trailed off and Nate didn't press him. They both knew the possible implications if she wasn't there.
"She'll be there."
Eliot glanced over at him briefly. Nate had no way of knowing that, of course. But it was nice to have someone willing say it out loud.
---
Eliot slinked down the hallway to Savanah's apartment, keeping one shoulder against the wall, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he listened for threatening noises. Nate was glad he didn't have to remind the hitter that there could possibly still be danger and not to go in guns blazin'. It seemed the hitter's old habits died hard.
Nate did notice, however, the high-rise apartment Savannah chose was one of the very nicest Boston had to offer. He wondered if she wasn't just as well off financially as her brother. Her penthouse was one of four on the tenth floor and security here was tight. Which did not bode well for their situation.
It meant the men that had gotten to Logan were professionals of Parker and Eliot's caliber.
Nate knew from experience that people like that were capable of anything.
When they got to the door he saw Eliot's body get tense again and leaned around the hitter to see what had him so worked up. The doorknob was scratched up, obviously tampered with and the door itself was standing slightly ajar.
Yeah. That tended to make Eliot a bit uneasy.
Eliot glanced at Nate, giving him a subtle 'stay back' sign and then started to move inside, slowly pushing the door open, scanning the entire room for threats or signs of life.
There were none.
Until they heard a slight whimpering coming from the couch.
When he heard it Eliot threw one more cautious glance around the spacious room, which was obscured by stacks of boxes and bubble wrap and then moved quickly to the couch.
Curled up on her side in a pair of jeans and an oversized shirt, was Savannah's thin form. Even with the black hood over her head and her arms and feet duct taped together as they were, he could tell it was her.
Eliot got to his knees beside the couch and gently pulled the black bag off her head to reveal Savannah's eyes, puffy and red, bright with fear and pain. She shrunk back immediately only to sag with relief when she realized it was Eliot.
Nate approached the couch and watched as Eliot carefully helped her sit up, preparing to peel the tape off Savannah's mouth as her body started to shake with sobs. He gave her a quick once over, subtly checking for other injuries while the hitter was preoccupied.
Like Logan, she had a rapidly swelling bruise on her cheek. Her arms had bruises the shapes of handprints near the wrists and, if she tilted her head just so, he could see a bump forming at the edge of her hairline.
"Sav, are you-?"
"Logan?" she interrupted immediately, frantically. "They took Logan is he-"
"Shh, shh," Eliot raised his hands to quiet her, "we got him. He's safe. Alright? He's okay."
Savannah took a desperate, ragged breath and started to nod, but the attempt at breath quickly grew uneven and shallow, then turned into big, heavy sobs that ripped his heart in half as she collapsed against him. Eliot enfolded her in his arms, moving up onto the couch to keep her more comfortably pressed against him. He caught Nate's eye and mouthed 'knife', looking pointedly at his foot.
The mastermind nodded, getting the message and retrieved the switchblade he knew the hitter kept on a Velcro strap on his calf, slicing carefully through the tape on Savannah's ankles and wrists.
Feeling her hands were mobile again, Savannah pressed her face harder into Eliot's chest and wrapped her arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably while Eliot whispered in her ear.
Nate stood to one side, watching as Eliot comforted his sister, knowing the person or persons responsible for this had no idea what they had just done. The wrath they had just released on themselves.
There was no honor among thieves, Nate knew that much, but he had learned there was a code among criminals.
And those that didn't follow that code always suffered the consequences.
---
Colt's blue eyes were glued to the clock that hung above his classroom door. His eyes hadn't left it in nearly half an hour. His right leg bounced uncontrollably under his desk while he chewed his thumbnail.
The teacher took no notice of her young pupils' fidgeting. It was the first week back in school after a long summer and she was sure her newest batch of 5th graders wanted nothing more than to be outside enjoying the waning days of summer.
She gave Colt a patient smile and he ignored her. She wouldn't be any different than all this other teachers. She would smile and nod, ignoring bruises and broken bones with the explanation of 'boys will be boys' and nothing would change.
He knew that. Had accepted it. He wasn't angry at her. But he had to get out of this room.
Kindergartners got out of school a half hour earlier than everyone else.
It wouldn't have been a problem before. Before the layoffs at the plant that gave so many fathers so much free time.
Finally the ending bell rang and Colt shot up from his chair, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and pushing past his slower classmates unremorsefully. He ran down the hallway and burst through the doors, ignoring shouted invitations for a pick-up basketball game that lingered in his wake.
A mile and a half later he skidded to a stop on a gravel driveway between an old Chevy truck parked outside a one car garage and a neat, small two story house.
Inside the garage he could hear cursing and toolboxes crashing to the floor.
Colt swallowed hard and slipped inside, careful not to let the screen door slam. He dropped his bag and slinked across the kitchen toward the stairs. A noise caught his attention and he looked over to see his mother crying over the kitchen sink, a glass of milk spilled across the table.
His breath caught.
"Savannah!" He shouted, taking off for the stairs. A small voice inside him told him he shouldn't shout, that it brought unneeded attention to himself, but he couldn't bring himself to care, "Savannah?"
There was no answer and his heart rate quickened, shooting him up the stairs two at a time. He burst into his sisters' bedroom, his eyes bouncing frantically around the pink and white world searching for a small body and warm brown eyes. She was nowhere in sight.
"C'mon Savvy, where are you?" he said again, trying to sound casual instead of scared. The bathroom and hall closet both revealed nothing. Finally, he went to his own bedroom, glancing first into his closet and then pushing aside the mess of blankets, but still there was no sign of the little girl.
"Savannah answer me right now," he demanded in the tone he used when she was to do as he told her, no questions asked, part strong, part panicked.
Just as he started for the door, terrified his sister might have been in the garage with his stepfather, he heard a whimper from beneath the bed.
Dropping to his knees, he pulled the displaced blankets away and breathed a huge sigh of relief.
She was trembling and tear-streaked, clinging to a stuffed bear with white knuckles, but she was there. She was okay.
Or so he hoped.
Colt beckoned her out and Savannah obediently crawled up into his lap, but as soon as he wrapped her in a hug she yelped and pulled away.
"Sav? What's wrong?" He asked, eyes wide.
Her bottom lip trembled dangerously and she dropped her eyes to the floor.
"Nothin," she raised and lowered one thin shoulder, "shouda' been more careful with m'milk."
Colt froze, his face set somewhere between anger and horror. He motioned for her to turn around. When she did, he lifted the hem of her pink sweater to reveal her bare back. And the angry, dark purple bruises already forming there.
His stomach rolled violently.
"Oh Sav," he breathed, grimacing. He reached out gently to assess the bruising, trying to decide if she would need a hospital.
The girl pulled away enough for the sweater to drop from his fingers and turned to face him.
"S'okay," she told him quietly, her voice far too strong and even, "not as bad as some of yours."
Colt felt tears spring to his eyes and it confused him. He didn't know how to reconcile the sudden urge to cry with the burning rage he could feel building in his stomach and spreading across his chest.
He'd always been able to keep his stepfather from hurting Savannah before this, yet here she was putting on a brave face as if it happened all the time.
He cursed under his breath. He didn't want his five year old sister to be brave.
"That's a bad word," she admonished halfheartedly and looked up from her stuffed bear, seeing for the first time the tears in her brother's eyes. "Colt? Are you crying?" her eyes grew wide and scared.
"Did he hurt you too?" she demanded worriedly.
He swallowed convulsively a few times and leaned his head back against the bed, closing his eyes.
"Yeah Sav, he hurt me too," he whispered, unable to find the strength to lie. No bruise or broken bone he'd ever gotten had hurt so much as seeing those bruises on Savannah's back.
He felt small arms encircle him gently and it broke his heart all over again because she was so used to being careful with him. A warm, wet face was pressed into his shirt.
"M'sorry."
He cupped her head with one hand and pressed his face into her hair.
"I'm sorry too, Sav," he said, then opened his eyes as he made her a solemn vow, "I'll never let anyone hurt you again, I promise."
---
No one wanted to make the first move, so they all remained motionless. Sophie, Parker and Hardison staring at Logan, Logan staring right back.
Finally, Sophie blew out a breath, muttering, "this is ridiculous."
She took a couple steps forward, though it didn't really close the gap between them, and bent at the waist to be closer to eye level.
"I'm Sophie," she started, talking loud and slow, "would you like to-"
"That doesn't help." Hardison interrupted.
Sophie stopped and glanced back at him, "what are you talking about?"
He gestured between her and Logan, "talking loud. Exaggerating your words. Makes it harder for him to understand you."
She straightened, "and how do you know all this?"
He shrugged, watching as Parker slowly approached the boy, sniffing the air as she got closer and circling him with the same critical eye she used when familiarizing herself with a safe that needed cracking.
"I had a foster sister for a while who was deaf," he explained, bringing his eyes back to Sophie.
Sophie's eyes widened, "so you can sign to him, yeah?"
"No no no," Hardison took a step back, "it was a long time ago, I don't remember anything except maybe the alphabet."
Sophie rolled her eyes. "Then what good are you?" she sighed, turning back toward Logan and Parker.
"Hey!" Hardison exclaimed, indignant, "I don't see you steppin' forward to offer anything valuable to the situation."
Sophie ignored him, "Parker, stop staring at him like that. He's not a lock you can pick."
Parker's blank frown remained firmly in place as she hovered just outside the boy's personal space. Logan tried to turn to keep the others in his peripheral vision while keeping most of his attention on Parker.
Her eyes dropped down when she noticed his feet moving apart. She grinned.
"Eliot trains you too?"
She took a stepp back and assumed the ready position Eliot had taught her, the one the boy had just subtly shifted himself into.
At the sight of his uncle's name on Parker's lips Logan relaxed slightly and nodded. He illustrated a quick one two punch and put his hands up, the way Eliot did when he was waiting for his trainee to deliver a couple blows.
Parker tilted her head but gently hit his flat palms with a quick jab and cross.
Her face brightened even more when Logan smiled. She turned to look at Sophie, who was rifling around in the fridge.
"Hey, I think I did it right. It's smiling!"
"For God's sake Parker he's a 'boy' not an 'it'. Aha!" Sophie made a triumphant sound and turned around with the ice pack she had retrieved from the freezer. Wrapping it in a clean dish towel, she came back around to the other side of the counter and held it out to Logan.
He stared at her.
"Oh, it's um," she gestured toward his face and then pointed at her own cheek, "for the bruise."
Logan reached up to touch his swollen cheek, as if he'd forgotten it, and then nodded, taking the ice from her hand and pressing it to his cheek.
Hardison had disappeared into an adjoining room for a moment but reemerged with his laptop and went to set it up at the kitchen table, popping the top on a bottle of orange soda before setting his fingers to dance across the keyboard.
After a moment, Logan went to settle in on the couch, propping the ice against his cheek and staring at the floor.
Sophie hugged her arms around herself, watching the boy from the far side of the room, "I feel bad. I feel like we should be doing something."
"Like what? Eliot's already out there hunting these guys down." Parker stood beside her, hands stuffed into the pockets of her leather jacket, still giving Logan that appraising look.
"I don't know, I want to…hug him or something," she said quietly, "poor little guy is probably scared to death."
Parker frowned.
"So go do it," she said, utterly confused as to why Sophie would hesitate in doing something for the little boy that she would do so readily for any of the rest of them.
Sophie looked at her and Parker impatiently shooed her away, practically pushing the grifter toward the living room.
Hesitantly, Sophie gave in and approached the boy, settling down beside him. Logan watched her curiously and she sent him a small understanding smile and opened her arms in the universal sign for 'hug'. Logan stared at her for a second, a familiar war between 'strength' and 'dependence' waging behind those big eyes, before he seemed to reach a decision and flung himself toward her, burying his face in her neck.
Logan didn't cry, but he didn't let Sophie go either.
Parker approached and perched on the edge of the chair, staring at the pair.
"They broke the rules," she said after a moment. "They went after family."
Hardison paused and looked up.
"Who did?"
Parker gave him a look as if she really shouldn't have to explain such a thing, and pointed at Logan.
"Whoever did this."
Realizing her meaning, Hardison turned to look at Logan, practically sitting in Sophie's lap as she stroked his hair and held him close, murmuring comfortingly out of habit.
"Family is off limits, Hardison," Parker said, looking back over at him, "everybody knows 'family is off limits'. Some rules you just don't break."
Hardison nodded, going back to his computer, "well I say we find out who did, and we break them."
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TBC- would love to hear what you thought! No. Really. I would! I'm not kidding!...please??
