Notes: There will likely be one more chapter and then an epilouge. I just would like to send a shout out of thank you to everyone who reviewed. This chapter was difficult to write since it contains a lot of elements I'm not very good at (Action sequences, actual pulling off of escapes and such, ect.). Your encouragment helped me force myself to work through it. *Bows* thank you.
Cell Number Eight
With the final lesson the rules of the game changed quickly. What before had been a crash course for Nate in the rules of escape and survival became a observationary course in cutting corners to recovery.
Four days after the incident with the guards Nate woke to find the space beside him empty.
A lot of other rules had been changing in the past few days but sleeping arrangements seemed most distinct. Where before they'd doused the light (when the guards provided one) and retreated to separate pallets on far sides of the narrow cell. But in the days after the guard's intrusion into their little world Eliot's sleep had been disturbed by nightmares more and more, the beating reopening more than just physical wounds.
After the first night Nate had retreated to his own pallet and Eliot to his, resuming their traditional patterns but Eliot's restless slumber through that night had kept Nate awake and the following night, unable to stand it longer, Nate had crossed the dark cell for the first time and drove off the nightmares, standing guard (or sleeping guard) over the younger man. When Nate remembered following Eliot into a finally restful sleep they'd been lying shoulder to shoulder.
Somehow it seemed significant to Nate. After everything that had happened the last few barriers between them had finally been stripped away.
Or so he'd thought. Only half awake Nate had to wonder if maybe Eliot had read more into it than he'd thought. He hoped not. The idea of… well that was awkward at best.
He rolled over, trying to wake up, wincing as the movement pulled at the still healing wounds on his back. The sight he found made him take a sharp breath, worry for a moment, but smile none the less.
Eliot stood near the far wall of the room, eyes closed, statue still, just breathing slowly in and out. Without opening his eyes he moved, slow, deliberate. It took Nate a moment to identify the action, Katas, martial arts practice routines done to practice, master moves, and build endurance.
He moved slowly through one, block, hit, duck, block, dodge, blow. Nate didn't know much about what he was seeing but it looked impressive.
It looked damn impressive.
He returned to the beginning and began again, moving a little faster.
It wasn't until Nate sat up, still feeling the effects of a much lighter beating that he had to wonder at Eliot. Three days ago he'd been beaten unconscious and now he was moving with more ease and precision than Nate knew how on a good day.
Eliot finished the repetition he was going through and turned to Nate, opening his eyes and breathing a little hard but still smiling. "Mornin', did I wake ya?"
Nate shook his head. "Don't let me stop you." He said gesturing.
Eliot shrugged and sat down, still grinning. It seemed the exercise had put him in a good mood despite the previous night's terrors. "I need to take a break anyway. I'm pushing myself hard to get back to fightin' form but it won't do us any good if I push too hard an' hurt myself." He sat beside Nate, stretching. After a moment he stopped. "Whatcha lookin' at?"
Nate mentally shook himself and stopped staring, turning to the door, listening for the sound of "room service" coming down the hall. "Guess I just never really thought about Hitters practicing martial arts. Not a lot of Hitters I've seen actually do much hitting. Guns took the necessity out."
"Don't like guns" Eliot said with a bitter grin. "And any Hitter that wants to survive his first job practices any time they get the chance." He settled down a little, apparently trying to relax to let his body recover before he forced it back into motion. "And not just one thing. I don't like guns but I used to practice at a range once a week to make sure I know how to use one." He grinned, something amusing him. "Ya know they say Hitters are thieves too dumb for a proper con. Any of us could tell ya that it's only the smart ones survive long in the buiz."
"I wouldn't agree with you." Nate said offhand reaching out to nudge Eliot's shoulder that was closest to him. Understanding his intentions without further prompting, he turned his back to Nate to give him a better view of his injuries. Nate continued talking as he checked for signs of infection and examined the places where the activity had reopened the wounds. He'd learned the earlier day to let them go without comment, Eliot's only reaction to his concern had been a shrug. "Hitters I've been sent after have a tendency to be annoyingly lucky."
Eliot turned his head, giving Nate a look.
"Current situation aside." Nate added, mostly to appease his patient to keep him from twisting further and undoubtedly hurting himself. Nate didn't mention the bizzar twist of fate that had landed them in the same cell was probably the only reason Eliot hadn't died more than a week ago.
Eliot faced forward once more without comment but a few minutes later, when Eliot stood up to force himself through more training he half muttered, half growled something that sounded suspiciously like a thank you.
Judging by the way he wouldn't look at Nate and his face was more flushed than it should have been when he'd only just started moving Nate had a feeling Eliot was talking about more than just the medical help.
That night Eliot said they should save the stump of the candle they had left. He didn't think they'd need it for the escape but you never knew.
So when the sun went down and the cell fell into nighttime darkness they settled onto their pallets one more time. "Tomorrow night." Eliot said after they'd settled down.
"Tomorrow night?"
"I'm not gonna get much stronger and I've done as much preparation as I can. Tomorrow night we break out of here. I think I can get us to the garage. We need a ride or we'll be stuck in the desert without water come mornin'." This was Egypt in the dry season, Nate knew if that happened they'd be lucky to live to see nightfall.
"Tomorrow night." Nate confirmed.
Silence returned briefly, Nate practiced the counting/timing method Eliot had taught him for lack of something better to do. He'd made it to just past four hundred when Eliot shifted on his pallet and sighed. "You know it's still light enough that if you came over now instead of waitin' for later you'd probably manage to not trip and kill me."
Nate rolled over and pushed himself up, crossing to lie next to Eliot. As he dropped to one knee beside him, trying to leverage himself down without aggravating his injuries he stopped. A fleeting look of something across Eliot's face, the way the man almost shifted away but didn't, it gave Nate pause.
But it was probably the darkness and his own growing paranoia at the back of his mind about this weird friendship with Eliot mixed with the boy's none too pleasant history. He lay down and Eliot relaxed.
They didn't say anything, not even good night, just closed their eyes and let healing sleep steal over them.
oOo
The day dragged on long.
Plans were formed and prepared by noon leaving them hours to kill before they could make their escape.
They played one last chess game. Traded little bits of languages. Nate watched Eliot do his exercises, still unable to get over them. Something just caught and held his attention.
Eliot must have caught him watching a few too many times because as the day was beginning to dim just a hint Eliot stopped his exercise and turned, gripping Nate's arm and pulling him to his feet. "You need to get some exercise."
And so cell number eight saw one last lesson. With steady hands Eliot guided him through a very basic kata.
Darkness found them laying down to rest for the long night ahead, the kata having done the most to sooth their nerves that could be hoped for.
Neither slept, only one prayed, and both of them briefly entertained the idea of delaying one more day.
"Nate?"
"Yeah?"
"I… uh" There was a long moment where things were almost said but left as offerings to the darkness around them. Eliot sighed then sat up. "Lets go."
"I'll follow you."
oOo
Eliot stood beside the door, eyes closed, listening. They normally heard the guards coming far in advance but there was no reason to be careless.
He took the moment to take a breath and center himself. Somewhere along the line Nate had sparked his old fire in him. That desperation, that Thing, that violence inside his mind was awake again and looking for a fight. He'd felt it during the beating but now as danger pressed near…
But Nate was with him. There could be no mistakes.
His entire world was focused on getting Nate out and to safety now and the idea of losing control of That Thing, of hurting Nate… It made him feel sick.
He nodded to Nate, unlocked the door, and they crept out into the hallway together.
It had always been a strangely surreal experience, creeping through darkened hallways, listening for just the softest hint of a noise that would clue you in to an approaching enemy, moving towards a destination as seconds ticked by like hours.
Eliot kept his mental map of his surroundings in his mind, taking them down barely used hallways and up a flight of stairs. Twice he pulled them into an abandoned room or down a side hallway and pressed them back against a wall, barely breathing as they listened to voices and footsteps creep by.
It was almost too easy, which was making Eliot more than a little paranoid. He knew there was no reason for the guards to not come after them immediately should they find out that he and Nate had escaped but it was too easy. He wasn't used to being lucky. He was used to fate screwing him six different ways before breakfast.
They reached the garage without incident, Eliot picking the lock and pulling them inside, closing the door behind them.
It was dark, just a few emergency lights on. A small fleet of cars and jeeps sat and a closed metal door sat between them and the outside of the compound.
Almost too easy.
Eliot turned to Nate, asking just barely above a whisper, a question that hadn't occurred to him until now. "Can you hotwire a car?" Nate's expression reminded Eliot about the difference between their worlds. It hadn't occurred to Eliot that Nate might not know. "Try to figure out how to open the bay doors."
Nate nodded and turned toward the doors when Eliot's usual luck got the memo that it was needed.
oOo
Nate heard the door to the garage open only a moment before Eliot tackled him to the ground, gunfire hitting the wall where he'd been standing moments before.
Time started to move to quickly as Eliot dragged him, stumbling to his feet and pulled him behind a car, cursing as he went.
A window shattered above their heads and Eliot's curses paused a moment as he grabbed Nate's arm and pulling him to keep moving. "Of course they wouldn't have bullet proof cars." He snarked shoving Nate behind a slightly more solid looking vehicle and looking around the corner at the shooter. "They're getting backup." Eliot whispered. "Have to stop them now."
Suddenly Eliot shoved Nate to the ground. "Get under the car. Stay still. Don't move until I say." He said, his voice suddenly strangly calm. "They realized we aren't ar-" The window by them shattering cut him off. He gasped slightly, shock registering on his face for a moment as he pressed a hand to the bullet wound now in his side.
He looked down at Nate, who'd been moving to do as told but was beginning to surge up to help the now injured man.
The look in those terrifying blue eyes stopped him. There was no pain, fear, or shock anymore. No recognition anymore.
Eliot dropped his hand from the wound, turning away to punch the guard who'd come around the corner a little too eagerly. He moved fast, too fast for Nate to even follow, and the guard was on the ground beside Nate, broken and bleeding in a dozen places.
Eliot turned to look back at Nate, his set expression not even hinting at changing. "Stay down."
Nate rolled over to slip underneath the car and stared into the dark space above him for only two heartbeats.
Then the screaming began.
