A Broken Man.
Summary. . . . . . . . . How do you break a man, when pain is an everyday occurrence and can be controlled? Eliot and the team are about to find out, when an easy con turns out to be anything but.
Disclaimer. . . . . . . . Not mine, no money is being made; I'm just testing the waters of a new fandom.
A.N. . . . . . . . . . So, I seem to have confused a lot of you in the previous chapter, for that I'm sorry, hopefully though some things will be answered right now. Thanks to everyone who has read this fic so far, and to those who have reviewed, added to favorites, or even alerted. I really couldn't have asked for a better response. Without further ado, here's chapter 6. I hope you enjoy. Peanut x
They'd proceeded slowly. Even though Hardison's scans of the area had showed nothing unusual, years of thieving had instilled within them an eagerness to always be over cautious. So they moved in slowly, exited the van at different points along the route until only Hardison remained, and each, on Nate's word moved into the alley from different directions; himself from the North, Sophie from the South, and Parker looking over them both from the rooftops.
It was cold and dirty work, every dark and dank corner was investigated, every dumpster examined; even walking was perilous as they attempted to avoid the dubious streams of water that trickled from all points, Sophie at one point cursing herself for being selfish and worrying about her five hundred dollar boots when Eliot was out here somewhere hurting and alone, maybe even. . . . . . . . . . . . . No she refused to even go there. He was alive. He was alive and they would find him.
The gap between the two thieves on the ground was slowly getting smaller and smaller, when the brunette grifter heard a slight movement to her left. Her heart leapt into her throat, was this it? Had they finally found what they had come looking for? She motioned to Nate, beckoning him over as she crept closer to where she thought the sound had come from, the smallest of whimpers, the briefest rustle of trash, the harsh breathing of an ill man, breathing that she could tell someone was trying so hard to drown out. When Nate touched her shoulder to reassure her he was there, she jumped slightly but continued on in her quest, pushing aside rotting boxes and bags of decaying garbage, not caring that her perfectly manicured fingers were now covered putrid smelling mush, or that her designer clothes were now ruined; her focus completely set upon the person she hoped was behind this one last box. With Nate's help she moved it, crying out and stumbling back at the sight that befell her.
That couldn't be him. It just couldn't be him. But deep down she knew it was, that this cowering, practically naked, filthy mess of a man that was recoiling and trying to shrink before her eyes, was the confident and aggressive Hitter she had come to know. She could tell even though the normally silky hair was now matted and knotted and smeared with substances she didn't even want to know. She could tell even though the normally bright and icy and constantly aware beautiful blue eyes, were now dull and ringed with dark circles, wide eyed but seeing nothing, frightened and scared. What the hell had been done to him?
Nate watched as Sophie stumbled, his own mind at seeing Eliot wanting to do the same, but knowing now was not the time, that they were out in the open here, unsafe. He moved slowly forward not wanting to frighten the younger man any more than he already was, he softly called the Hitter's name, not really expecting a response but wanting the man he had come to think of as a friend to know he was there. All his effort gathered him though was for the frightened man to shrink back even further. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Sophie inching closer, her initial emotional display now hidden behind her mask, her motherly nature now in full force.
"Nate, we have to get him out of there."
"I know that, but he's scared and jittery." He turned away for a moment, his hand touching his ear even though there was no need to, he just needed to still their trembling. "Parker, how are we looking?"
"Everything seems clear and quiet from up here. How's Eliot? Is he okay? Can I come down and see him?" Parker responded, he own anxiety for her friend evident in her voice.
"No!" Nate replied, not wanting the young woman to see Eliot like this. "Keep your eyes open up there; let us know the minute you spot any sign of trouble. Hardison, bring the van round, Eliot's won't be able to make it to you." He turned back to Sophie once he had stopped talking to the other two members of the team. "Sophie, stay back for a minute, this is Eliot, and he's confused and frightened, but he's still dangerous. Let me try again to calm him down."
He moved forward once more, grasping Eliot by his arm, shocked at how chilled the flesh felt beneath his fingers, but staying far enough away to avoid being hit, grateful that he did so when both the younger man's arms started swinging. Nate couldn't believe the strength of the blows that rained down, but he held on just the same, asking Sophie for help when Eliot's strength finally began to fade, both of them speaking reassuring words that they hoped their friend would hear, but knowing that he didn't when his eyes rolled back and his resistance stopped.
"We need to get him out of here now!" Nate shouted, thankful that Hardison chose that moment to turn up.
In the end they decided to take the Hitter to Sophie's place, no one really knowing where it was Eliot lived, Parker's place too sparse, Nate and Hardison's places having too many stairs to maneuver up. Hardison and Nate gently placed their unconscious friend onto the Grifter's king sized bed, the older man rummaging into the medical bag Parker had dropped by his side, taking out a sterile swab and cleaning a small area before drawing some blood. Once finished he turned to the older of the two women.
"Hey Sophie, could you run a bath, and then why don't you go and wait outside. Parker I need you to get this analyzed, until we know if there's anything in his system, we can't give him anything." When he saw the two women about to protest he added. "Eliot will be embarrassed enough, when he gets better, to know that we've seen him like this, let alone to know that you two have seen him naked. Please for him, go and do as I ask."
He waited for them to comply before turning to Hardison. "Will you be okay with this? If not, I can do this alone."
"I'm good. I'm good. Well I'm not good with the seeing Eliot naked part, but. . . . . . . . . .Listen let's just do this."
Surprisingly, taking care of Eliot hadn't taken as long as they had imagined. Once divested of what little remained of his clothes, the two man had carried the Hitter into Sophie's spacious bathroom easing him into the warm scented water, yet another thing Nate knew Eliot would protest if he could, before setting to and scrubbing the blood, sweat, dirt and filth from his body; emptying the bath and refilling it once more when the water turned black. When they had finished they carried the unresponsive man back to the bed once he was dry and clothed in boxers, both staring in shock as they looked down upon him. There was hardly a mark upon him.
They looked at each other before bending down to move for a closer look, sure his wrists were a mess, his shoulders looked reddened and swollen, and it looked as though he was still carrying some bruises and cuts from the original fight, but other than that he was relatively intact. There were more bruises covering his sternum, bruises that told Nate everything he needed to know, something he would keep secret from the others; and they could both tell that their usually fit and healthy retrievalist had lost weight, and had not been sleeping, and there was that horrible rattle that emanated from his lungs, but they both found they had expected more. Just what had happened?
Remembering feeling something as he washed the younger man down, Nate turned to Hardison and asked. "Help me turn him; I think I felt an injury to his back."
Turning the Hitter slowly, they waited as he rode out a coughing spell that shock his frame, his eyes briefly opening before exhaustion won out once more. Nate propped a pillow against his chest to ease the pressure on his bruises before moving to the Hitter's other side where Hardison stood riveted to the spot, his eyes wide.
"Hardison, what is it?" He didn't need the younger man to answer though as his eyes took in Eliot's back and the three inch long row of hastily done stitches that crossed the fleshy part above the Hitter's hip, an oblong bulge clearly visible beneath.
"That's nasty man. That's just plain old nasty. Nate man, there's something sewn inside of him."
A.N . . . . . . . . . . .Okay, so I said that you would get some of the confusion sorted out in this chapter, but it kinda ran away with me. I promise the confusion will be sorted next chapter. On a side note, in real life I'm about to make a big move from Toronto to Chicago, so things are really up in the air at my house. I'm gonna try and still get chapter's out pretty quickly, but if I disappear for a while please bear with me, and don't worry as I will be back. Thanks as always for stopping by. Peanut x