This is shorter chapter, because I'm not at home, but I'm working on fourth one and it will be posted soon, maybe next week. Thank you all for your reviews, it means a lot to me. Special thanks goes to Trappercreekd, who did a great job as Beta. And it was not an easy job, because I don't speak English so well. Without her, this fic wouldn't be possible.
Something was very, very wrong.
He could feel his heart thumping slowly, painfully in his chest, every beat spreading a numb pain. Moving of that kind was a good sign, he somehow knew, but that pain... with it was connected something important, urgent and far from good.
Thoughts were light and hard to catch, he couldn't even make himself ask appropriate questions, so he just let his eyes stay closed, and tried to listen.
Somebody was talking about moving, and things going well; female voice, soft, with a very distinctive tenderness. 'I dated a lot of nurses', he answered an unspoken question from someone who wasn't even there. He couldn't tell to whom he was talking, but a feeling associated with that silent conversation made his heart run faster.
A female voice continued to talk about morphine, long sleep and recovering, but his mind could focus on only one sentence that continued to reel in his head in circles, slower and slower as something started to drag him deeper into the darkness: the time was running out.
.
.
.
Nate almost choked on his coffee when Harlan Leverage III had entered the van himself, looking very disapprovingly at him.
"What the f-" he barely managed to say when Harlan flipped over, as Parker lowered the painting she held in both hands, and smiled at him.
Hardison and Sophie had the same half angry, half relieved expressions. All three of them had spent the past few hours searching through the hospital campus, hoping that they'd find her doing something crazy or dangerous… but alive. Nate knew that Hardison was so desperate that he searched for her body; he, on the other hand, was half expecting to find a trail of dead Chileans. Nate couldn't guess what Sophie was thinking; she seemed worried, but not as much as the two of them.
"I went home and picked up some stuff," Parker explained as if they needed explanations beside old Harlan. The thief went out again and drug in two large bags.
"You went into the office, knowing there might still be Chileans waiting for us to return?" Nate's voice was dangerously low.
"Oh, they are there. Two waiting in the street, one in the bar, and two situated in the office. They must have some sort of early warning, because two in the office felt secure enough to watch a game. Lights off, of course. I went in and out four times, and they didn't notice," the thief stopped and frowned. "Would it be better if I let them to see me?"
"No!" three voices screamed at the same time.
"Okay then," she shrugged and opened the bags. "I took all the money I could find, all comms and cell phones, IDs and documents, hard drives and your second favorite laptop, Hardison. Even one of the large monitors. Will you please go to the cab and take the rest? And pay him?
Hardison obeyed immediately, but stopped for the second to give her bone crushing hug.
"Don't do this ever again, girl. Ever!"
"What?"
"Disappear without telling us where you are? I thought… all sort of bad, bad things. You don't get it, don't you?" he sighed and went out.
Parker stood there for few seconds, obviously rethinking what he said, and Nate knew better than to intercept that process. So relieved that he couldn't feel anger anymore, he waited patiently until she shook her head, and went back to examine second bag.
"This is important." She emptied the bag on the floor of the van. They saw three hand guns, one Uzi, a few hand grenades, Eliot's samurai sword and kitchen knives, one nasty looking axe, along with all sorts of wigs, ropes and harnesses. She took a hand grenade and examined it. "The cab driver said Francisco has never sold broken stuff, but I think we should try those things before we actual use them."
"And how would you try hand grenade, Parker?" Nate said calmly.
"I don't know, you'll think of someth- Oh, Hardison, look! A hand grenade!"
Hands full of bags, Hardison was able only to dodge a little when she threw the grenade at him, hitting him directly above the left eye. "Oooops…."
"What? Did you just hit me with an unstable explosion device?"
"No."
"No?"
"I didn't hit you, you just didn't catch it. There's a huge difference. Same thing with crowbar and E-" She sighed, looking unhappy. "I'm sorry. I won't do that again."
"Bet you won't," he murmured, brushing his brow.
"Hardison, will you please put all these weapons back in the bag again, and seal it… somehow?" Nate politely asked.
"Sure."
"But why?" Parker said. "It's the first time we're working without a hitter, and it doesn't feel safe. I don't feel safe. There are the guys with guns!"
"And, when there are guys with guns, do we go near them, or we avoid the danger?" Nate said patiently.
"It wasn't dangerous," Parked blinked at him, and Nate suppressed the growl, finally understanding how Eliot must had felt all those years. He also realized that only he could take the hitter's role in the team. Taking care of their safety could be harder than he thought it was.
Sophie was throwing them significant glances, evidently disturbed, but he couldn't guess what she wanted.
"Parker, help Hardison, please." He waited until she got out of the van. "What?"
"Talk to her." Sophie whispered.
"Me? Why don't you-?"
"Because she's more upset than she is showing. The stability of the team is disturbed, meaning her whole world is turned upside down, and she needs a voice of authority to tell her everything is still under control. Just imagine what's the next disturbed thing Parker can- Dear Lord, you brought my shoes? And clothes? Girl, you're a life-saver!"
"Yes, encourage her." Nate murmured and went out to help Hardison with other bags. Clothes and wigs, though, were not a bad idea.
He needed to go back to watch… talking to Parker could wait.
.
.
.
Hardison tried to convince Nate that 3 a.m. was the best time to show them the info he'd collected on the Chileans, but Nate simply said no, and went out. Parker was curious; they didn't actually know why that gang was so eager to kill them. She vaguely remembered mentioning Chileans when they were in L.A, it was connected with Hurley and his money that they were after… but nothing else, as she could remember. Nate was strangely disinterested, Sophie looked tired, and Hardison was fuming and mumbling, so it didn't seem like a good time to start asking questions about anything.
"I'll be in the hospital for next three hours, so you should try to sleep." Nate's voice traveled through comms. "If you can't, I want to know where you are; no more solo actions. Parker?"
"I can't sleep, I'll check the parking lots to see if there's something suspicious," Parker quickly answered, already on her way out. It was difficult to just sit and wait, and urge to do anything was stronger than the weariness.
"Sophie?
"I'll try to rest." Sophie sighed.
"Hardison?"
"Maybe later." Hardison sounded disgruntled.
Parker closed the door behind her and stopped, because the silence from Nate emphasized absence of fourth name and his report.
"All right," Nate said after few seconds of uncomfortable silence, in an uncertain voice so untypical that Parker just stood there, trying to figure out what was the meaning of the sudden heavy pressure that she felt on her shoulders. "I'll call you if anything happens." Nate finished and line went silent.
Parker took out her earbud and put it in the pocket of her shirt; if Hardison yelled and called her, she'd hear and respond, but for now, she didn't want to listen to their silence. Even worse, if they continued to talk, she knew she'd constantly wait to hear Eliot's voice to fill the void that was driving her nuts.
"Dammit, Parker, it's too much even for you!" familiar annoyed growl sounded disturbingly real and she almost turned around. She giggled and continued her cautious walk among the parked cars.
"If you think it's too much, wait till I start to answer you," she giggled again. "Erm, wait…I just did, didn't I? Cool."
She knew exactly what degree of annoyance his sigh would have, and what would he say… and she smiled again. Some holes in the conversation could be fulfilled after all, and she put the eardbud back in her ear. Until things went back to normal, she'd have her own hitter to tell her she's crazy, exactly when she needed it.
In meantime, she had to think about the kitchen knives, safely hidden in her jacket, and their appropriate use.
