Chapter Three

"It's been three days, Nate." Sophie paced the room again. "Do you know what could happen to him in three days? He could be dead."

"I know, Sophie. Don't you think I know exactly what the different scenarios are?"

Sophie turned away from him. They were in Nate's condo, staring at the useless screens, not telling them where Eliot was. They'd ended the disastrous con by leaking info to the CEO that Anderson had the chip. Then Anderson turned on the CEO and they were both being held for questioning. It wasn't what they'd set out to do, but it was good enough. Sophie rubbed her arms, crinkling her shirt. Nate sat on the couch, his curly hair a mess, bags under his eyes. She suspected she looked no better, even though she did her hair and makeup. Course, she only spent five minutes total and the effect was less than sparkling.

She rubbed her ear. She wore the com all the time now, even to bed. The others drew the line at letting her wear it in the shower—except Parker, who said she closed her eyes and pictured herself at a peaceful waterfall in the woods.

They all exhibited the stress in their own unique ways, but Sophie could hardly soothe any of them—her usual role, the voice of reason—because her guilt ate away at her and she felt a shell of the woman she'd become with them.

That was irony for you. She'd been so focused on not putting herself in a vulnerable position and risk betrayal, and then she went and failed Eliot. He was a great example. His job required him to hold no ties. If he worked alone, he could run when needed. Sophie should have run. The moment Eliot body-slammed Anderson, she should have run. Eliot had looked at her, made sure she was all right. Then he was flying backwards, flailing his arms. Then he broke through the railing and then that sickening crack.

Over and over and over, she couldn't sleep. She couldn't eat. Every time she tried, she saw him save her. Look at her. Fall backwards. And that sound. And then he woke up in fear for his own life.

At first, she'd assumed Eliot remembered the fight and thought she was Anderson, or that Anderson had caught them, or even that Eliot only had a vague notion he was in danger because of the battle. Of course. Why else would a man like Eliot wake up outside and in pain? She thought he just needed a moment to orient himself, and then he'd let her help him.

All because she let something slip past and Anderson saw it. She hadn't taken him seriously. He was a mark, a little office drone, and all she needed was that computer chip, and now Eliot wasn't their Eliot and he could be lying anywhere, in need of help. Confused. Hurt. Dead.

"I still don't get it," Parker said over the com.

Parker and Hardison were in the streets, searching for Eliot. Nate stayed behind that morning to come up with a new plan because this one wasn't working. Sophie was forced to stay behind because, as Nate so delicately put it, 'I'm not jeopardizing the three of them because you can't eat or sleep and look like crap.' Couldn't he have just said, 'stay here in case Eliot comes back?'

Nate would disappear for hours at a time, meeting with contacts, trying to get a lead on Eliot without spreading the word that Eliot was missing or hurt. It was tricky, and for anyone else Sophie could have needled the information out without them knowing she'd so much as asked a question, but when it was one of the team, she couldn't do it.

"He doesn't remember us," Hardison explained for the millionth time.

"That's just ridiculous," Parker said. "Of course he remembers us. How could he forget?"

"It's not his fault, Parker," Sophie said. It's mine, she thought.

Nate let out a deep sigh and stood, stretching his arms and rotating an ankle in the air. His clothes were wrinkled and he hadn't shaved in two days. And he said she looked like crap. "He thinks it's sometime before September of 2001. He thinks he's…whoever he was back then. It would be hard enough to track him if he disappeared now."

"He did disappear now," Parker pointed out.

Hardison's voice came out of the com. "He means if Eliot hadn't lost his memory. We know him now, sort of. Could we find him if he didn't want us to?"

"He doesn't want us to."

Nate rubbed his temples with long fingers, and then grabbed his hair and pulled. His voice came out in calm, even tones. "It's called retrograde amnesia. He hasn't forgotten who he is, he's forgotten everything that's happened to him over the last…dozen years or so."

"Hmph." Parker seemed dissatisfied. "He'd count that as a blessing. We used to joke about it."

Sophie's heart beat faster as she waited for Parker to continue.

"Hardison, can we get some ice cream?"

"Parker!" Sophie snapped. "What did you used to joke about with Eliot?"

"Lots of things. One time—"

"No, Parker. In regards to losing his memory."

"Oh. He said if he ever lost his memory, tell him to enjoy it. I told him if I ever lost my memory, help me get it back quick because I'd want to remember all—"

There was a pause.

"All what?" Hardison asked.

"Nothing. It's private."

"You told Eliot."

"That's true. Okay. All of you guys. I never belonged anywhere. I don't ever want to forget this feeling."

Sophie glanced at Nate. He was staring at her.

"But even though I'm fine, it doesn't feel the same. Eliot missing is like a part of me is missing."

Sophie felt miserable.

"Is that okay?"

"Yes." Sophie started pacing again. "That's okay, Parker."

"We're not us, and we haven't been us in three days. We're never going to find him without us being us, but we won't be us until we find him."

Sophie's heart clenched in her chest and she didn't know how to respond.

"Can we get some ice cream now?"

Sophie heard Hardison snort.

"Can't you just get a Tardis and go get him from 2000-whatever?"

"As glad as I am that you're paying attention to the DVDs I show you, it wouldn't work."

Parker clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Because we couldn't get Eliot to step inside."

Sophie wanted to cry. Parker was so…cheerful, even while she worried for Eliot. And she saw things so differently, so simplistically.

"Yes, Parker," Hardison said, exhaustion in his voice. "That's why."

"Okay, let's review." Nate put his hands together and walked around the couch. "Sophie slipped the com into Eliot's jeans, but we lost the signal around 3rd and Pine."

Sophie nodded. When she'd lost her balance as Eliot was about to tie her up, she'd slipped Eliot's com in the tiny pocket no one used. She prayed he wouldn't discover it or toss his jeans. Hardison tracked the signal until it disappeared. All their coms went down. It was a dead zone. No wonder Eliot had picked the place. Technology had come a long way since Eliot had first set up whatever safe house he was hopefully in, but he would have done whatever was necessary to keep the security up to date. He just didn't remember.

Hardison and Parker went together, knocking on doors, looking for their friend without giving away they were looking for their friend but it was slow, dangerous work and they checked in every fifteen to thirty minutes, coming out of the dead zone to report that they were fine and to see if Eliot had moved out of it. The deeper they went in, the longer the process took.

Nate continued. "We can assume Eliot ditched his jeans."

"Or he's lying dead in the dead zone," Sophie snapped.

Nate held his hand to his ear. "Guys, we're going to switch off for a moment. Sit tight." He turned his com off.

Sophie bit her lip and reached up to do the same with hers, cutting Parker off in mid-sentence.

"Oooh, Sophie's in big trou—"

"What do you think you're doing? You're a mess. You feel so guilty, you're sabotaging our efforts to get him home safe."

"I'm just—"

"No more excuses. Knock it off or I'm sending you home."

"You can't do that."

"I can and I will. If you want to be a part of this, then be a part of it. We can't hear one more negative comment. They're out there knocking on doors in a dangerous neighborhood looking for a dangerous man. They're breaking into hopefully empty buildings to search for him. I can't send you out there because I'm afraid you'll fold under the pressure, which means they're out there alone and they need our support. You don't think they know they could break into an empty place and find Eliot cold and blue on some dirty floor, deader than a doornail?"

Sophie's jaw dropped.

"That's what you want to remind them of? That possible outcome?" He moved over to her and grabbed her shoulders. "Until then, he's alive. He's in hiding, licking his wounds. His movements are concealed, his contacts are unknown to us. What he's thinking, who he thinks he is, is unknown to us. But we'll find him. You have to believe that or your mind is closed to a potential clue. You'll miss something that might be helpful and might be the one tiny piece that gets him back to us. Do you understand me, Sophie?"

Sophie's breath caught in her throat. "The biker bar."

"What are you talking about?"

Sophie switched her com back on.

"No, the Daleks are bad, Parker," Hardison was saying.

"Hardison, are there any biker bars in the dead zone?"

"Uh…let me pull up the map. Let's see. Yes. There's one about three blocks from Eliot's last known position. Why?"

"I think he might go there."

"To a biker bar. With a concussion."

"Please check it out."

Parker's voice came through. "He's already driving, Sophie. What's this about?"

"Did you know that Eliot likes Adam Sandler movies?" Nobody responded to her question. She couldn't blame them. "I completely forgot about it until Nate said we don't know what he's thinking. It's like that movie, 50 First Dates."

"This is nothing like 50 First Dates, Sophie." Hardison's voice was hard. "Nate, maybe it's time we send her home."

"Let's hear her out."

"The girl in the movie had some form of retrograde amnesia and always went to this one diner. Eliot said he'd go to the biker bar because it was the safest place to gather and impart information because nobody would be foolhardy enough to try to find anyone known to the bikers. They would protect him because he's like one of their own and there's a lot of misinformation. An enemy wouldn't make it out in one piece with the correct information but friendlies stood a chance."

Nate smirked.

"You don't need to look so smug," she whispered.

Parker chuckled. "Leave it to Eliot to watch a romantic movie and turn it into a lesson in security."

"Stood a chance?" Hardison repeated. "Friendlies stood a chance?"

"It's the only lead we've got," Nate said.

"Th-that is not a lead, okay? A lead is a blip from the GPS. A lead is seeing him walking down the street. Walking into a biker bar to have our butts handed to us is not a lead."

"I'll do it," Parker said.

"Of course you will," Hardison breathed.

"Oh, good."

"No, you will not do it."

"But you just said—"

"Parker. Do you know how dangerous this is?"

"As dangerous as jumping off buildings?"

Hardison sucked in a breath. "I forgot who I was talking to."

"There's a lot of that going around."

Sophie heard the sound of the van door opening.

"Parker, wait!"

Nate held his hand to his ear. "Hardison, Parker, do it."

"Nate!"

Sophie didn't know what to think. "Parker, where are you going? We need to prep carefully for this."

"I'm going across the street to that clothing store. I'll be right back."

Hardison spoke again, his voice weary. "You realize we have to go dark for this."

Sophie glanced at Nate. She hadn't thought of that. The bar was in the dead zone.

"I know," Nate said.

"She'll have no back up. If I stay in the van, I won't know if she's in trouble."

"You'll have to stay in the van, Hardison. Parker is…"

"Is what, Nate?" Parker asked in a thin voice.

"Non-threatening. Unassuming. If she's careful, no one'll want to hurt her. They might want to protect her."

It was true, Parker was the sort of person who was so used to being alone that her social skills were that of an excited child. She did bring out the motherly instinct, but how would that play to a roomful of drunken bikers?

"And just think, this time if I stab a guy with a fork, no one'll even react."

Hardison spoke again. "I don't think it's worth it to try. It's too risky."

Parker's voice came through, over background conversations in the clothes store. "Anything is worth a try. Do you remember who we're talking about? There's one reason I can do this without a care in the world or a doubt in my mind."

"What's that?" Sophie asked.

"Without complaint, without thinking twice, without any reservations at all—Eliot would do it for me."