Of course, Eliot wasn't going to sleep. He couldn't. He just sat still, eyes closed and breathing slowed. He was meditating.

That's why he jumped when the door opened.

It didn't slam open like it did when the men entering were working under orders. There were only two men and they were quiet and efficient. They went straight for the hitter.

Nate could tell that something was off. They were acting like they were doing something below the radar. One knelt, grabbed Eliot by the neck, and leaned in to whisper something. Eliot shook his head fervently, but the man just stood to the side while the other unlocked the restraints. While Eliot was free of the iron (except for the collar, which was never removed,) he tried to fight back. Desperately. His hands were forced behind his back and cuffed, but he kept fighting, trying to kick and shove and bite. He was punched in the face; when he bared his bloody teeth, he was hit more. In the struggle, he almost twisted out of their hands. The one holding him was so enraged that he grabbed a fistful of the hitter's long hair and smashed his head into the wall. Eliot's resistance was slowed and his eyes seemed a little clouded. He still feebly fought them as he was pulled over to the door, dragging his heels, but they shoved him out of the cell and locked the door.

Nate could hear him still struggling. It sounded like he was negotiating, even begging, in Arabic, but he was silenced with a slap. Then, a cell door shut far down the corridor.

The mastermind puzzled over all of this. It seemed to be late in the night. This was not a normal interrogation, by the way these guys usually operated. These two weren't operating on orders.

Nate really hoped he was wrong about what they wanted.

Eliot was dragged back only a little while later, gone no more than half an hour. He was just thrown onto the cell floor. The guards closed the door and left without more than a comment to the shivering form on the floor.

Nate called out to him quietly once the men were far gone, but it didn't matter. Eliot had already passed out.

Eliot had nightmares again. Mostly he just jerked or gasped lightly, but sometimes he whimpered. He woke up a few times, if he moved and hurt himself; Nate could tell because he breathed quicker, tried to move his arms, and then remembered that he was alone.

Well, Nate was there, but he couldn't do anything to help, so he just stayed quiet.

One time, a few hours after he was thrown back into the cell, Eliot had his worst dream yet. He just shook. In the faint light from under the door, Nate could see him. He was tense, shaking, and his mouth was stretched open in a silent scream. Sweat dripped from his clammy skin. Then, a tear rolled down his cheek. Another was caught in the crook of his nose. Suddenly, he jolted and awoke with a sharp gasp. The hitter pushed his bare heels into the concrete floor to shove himself back until he hit the wall opposite the door. He looked around in panic, unable to see in the dark despite the slight light from the corridor. He asked something in Arabic, so softly.

Nate just watched.

Eliot asked again.

"Eliot, it's okay. You had a nightmare."

The hitter jerked and looked in his direction.

"Nate?" His voice was small.

"Yeah?"

"Are we alone?"

"Yes."

Eliot seemed to relax a bit. "You should sleep," he said. "I can't, so I'll keep an eye out."

"Thanks." Nate didn't know what else to say.

He was asleep before he knew it.

Nate woke when he heard yelling. He hadn't heard the door open, but there were several men beating his cellmate. Eliot was trying to tell them something, but they yelled over him. He refused to cry out under the heavy boots and fists. Eventually, he was dragged up to his knees in the center of the room, facing Nate. One of his captors was handed a whip and he yelled something at Eliot before he raised it.

The hitter spat out a mouthful of blood before saying to Nate, "He says that this is a lesson of what happens when you try to escape." He lowered his head before the first crack of the whip.

Nate blanched. Eliot hadn't tried to escape!

Eliot bit his lip to keep from crying out. It worked for about a dozen lashes. On wrapped over his shoulder, though, and he wasn't ready for that. He couldn't hold back a choked cry. The men laughed, and he knew they wouldn't stop until he'd earned it. They wanted him to beg. He wouldn't.

After several more, he couldn't swallow another cry. The man with the whip was enraged at his stubborn resistance, so he began to bring the biting leather down with as much speed and strength as he could.

Eliot screamed.

Blood splattered with the nest vicious lash, and he screamed again.

The man whipping him continued, yelling. Eliot responded with a choked word, shaking his head. The man demanded the same thing, and Eliot denied him again.

The next onslaught of lashes was so brutal, each scream torn from the hitter was cut off by the next.

Finally, he yelled something in Arabic. The hits continued. He yelled it again, and again, until the ship stilled. He repeated it, quiet now. Then, whispered it. It slipped out on a heaved breath.

The guard, still holding the whip, gently dragged its bloody tails up the shredded back before him. Eliot whimpered.

The men laughed, then grabbed his arms and dragged him back to his chains opposite Nate. His arms were chained in front of him once again, his collar also chained to the wall. They left.

Eliot was still on his knees. He slumped forward and rested his forehead on the cool ground.

"You didn't try to escape."

The hitter chuckled darkly. Breathlessly. "Doesn't matter. I was out of my chains. That counts."

"It wasn't your fault." Nate was livid.

"They don't care."

Nate shook his head incredulously. "So, when you said the price to try something was too high..."

"All that, that was for some guard forgettin' ta lock me back up. When I try to get out, if I make it outta this room... different story."

"Did you know this would happen, last night?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I?"

Nate noticed the blood running down his back. "You could bleed out."

"They're comin' back."

"Why?"

"We gotta eat sometime."