One Hour Before the Incident…

Nate glared daggers into the steering wheel in front of him. The wheels of his brain were visibly turning as he continued to stare into the abyss. He made none of his usual moves when he parked the car. He just put it in park and stared at the dashboard in front of him.

The grifter observed this and still refused to say a word. She was nervous and scared. Those were two emotions she was not a fan of. She opened her mouth to speak and immediately forced her mouth closed again. There was nothing she could say. Their fight had been explosive when the hitter left. Nate had tried so hard to be understanding but his anger wasn't helping. He was probably trying to figure out how to apologize when he had no reason to.

"Sophie, I-" Nate started.

The grifter responded by grabbing his hand. Tears instantly filled her eyes but she ignored them. She brought his hand to her lips and placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles. She traced his hand and stared at every nook and cranny with in it. His hands were so big compared to hers. They were rough and etched with years of hard work in every line and pore. Her hands wrapped around them in fear of forgetting their feel.

"I have a secret," she explained softly. She could sense Nate's ears perking up at that. His hand even squeezed hers to nudge her along.

"It's very important that I keep it," she said, "but only for now. Don't worry about anything. I'm taking care of it and I understand if you can't-"

"If this is your way of breaking up with me, I suggest you stop now or hear just how angry I can be," Nate interrupted softly.

Sophie jumped. His breath was hot on her neck and it sent chills up her spine that he could get so close without her noticing. His other hand was on her face, trying to get her to look at him. His voice was soft and filled with concern. He wasn't doing anything the way she wanted him to. He refused to be manipulated apparently.

"It's not a break-up," she replied, "It's an 'I want to tell you but I can't.' It's not quite my secret to tell-"

"Is it Eliot's?" Nate asked.

Sophie's breath hitched at the weird jealous ring to that stubborn man's voice. She hated that it was there but she knew it was her fault. This whole mess was her fault. The hitter had even warned her about this happening. She was going to lose her best friend because of this.

"It's a secret that will destroy us all if not kept," she said.

Then brown eyes finally met blue and her world was undone.

Present…

"He said he felt her hand move!" Parker growled at the nurse defensively, "Why aren't you doing anything about it?"

She had been traveling the hospital for hours now. She demanded attention from every doctor and nurse. Her impatience was only growing as everybody continued to ignore her or pretend to feel sympathy. Nobody believed her. They were all treating her like some traumatized child. She wanted to strangle them for it.

"She really did move!" Parker hissed towards the newest nurse to escape her persuasive escapades, "He was happy. He's never happy!"

"Parker, why are you terrifying the hospital staff?" Eliot groaned.

The young thief turned a dangerous scowl his way. She bared her teeth at him and a low hiss fell from her lips. Her blue-grey eyes were narrow and her shoulders flexed forward. She was a cat ready to strike. Then she spoke with an acidic voice.

"Why are you here?" She demanded.

The hitter looked torn at her vicious words. He looked on the verge of collapse from his world caving in and yet he understood. He was the one who screwed up and now he was paying the price.

"They arrested Nate," he explained, "I want to make certain you guys are alright."

"We're fine," Parker snarled, "Get lost!"

"You know," Eliot rolled his eyes, "You can't be mad at me if he's the one who stabbed her!"

Parker whipped around in seconds at that comment. Her fists clenched together in a claw and wrapped around his neck. The crazy glint of anger was back in her eyes. She looked even more dangerous than when they had first come together. Her look was feral and she was ready to strike.

"Nate would never hurt Sophie," she growled, "Not like that."

"You and I both know that man would do a lot of horrible things to protect himself," Eliot sighed, "Not to mention the crap he's already put her through over the last five years."

"Are you in love with her?" Parker rasped loudly, "Because he is. I've never seen two people care about each other as much as Nate and Sophie. I've never seen anybody work so hard to protect themselves from hard and try even harder to protect each other. Eliot, I've never seen it!"

"Then how would you know if it's right?" Eliot questioned softly.

"Because I've never seen anybody look at her the way he does," Parker shrugged, "I grew up with yelling and hatred, Eliot. I've never seen somebody glow the moment another person walked into the room before. Nate looks at Sophie like Archie used to talk about his family."

The hitter stared at the thief in complete surprise. Hurt and anger was all over his features but he couldn't help it now. His secret was almost completely revealed. He didn't have much longer with his team and the truth seemed to be the only thing he could do. So, he decided he was going to give the thief the only present she was asking for.

"Where the Hell is that Doctor my friend's been asking for?" He hollered.

"Sir, the patient…" a nurse began.

"Her name is Sophie!" Parker scowled.

"If my friend says she squeezed her hand then she squeezed her hand!" Eliot barked, "Get a doctor over there now or I'm gonna find a way of getting ya fired hun!"

The nurses scrambled over themselves to obtain the impossible goal. They looked for the best doctor they could find. The thief looked towards the hitter sadly.

"Thank you," she mouthed.

The hitter's stomach dropped at that.

%

"Out!" Nate screamed at the detective as loud as possible, "Let me out! I want to go! I'm done!"

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Mr. Ford," Frost sighed.

"No!" Nate hollered.

He was on his feet in seconds and staring down the barrel of a gun. He glared daggers at the young detective's play. He inched closer to the gun and growled.

"She needs me," he stressed, "Right before you arrested me she squeezed my hand. I need to know if that really happened or if I'm just too desperate-"

A loud bang from the door interrupted him. Jane Rizzoli was standing in its frame with Doctor Isles right behind her. Their expressions were somber and their faces stark white. The mastermind's rant died in his mouth. He shook his head at the way they were looking at him. He backed away from the white faces and imagined a warm safe place. Then he felt his knees buckle as he collapsed onto the hard concrete ground.

Maura rushed to him first. She was by his side in minutes and telling him to calm down. She offered him a glass of water and instructed him to drink it slowly. He took the advice and listened to her words.

"She's not dead," Isles explained, "The doctors haven't given us any new information on that front yet."

"So she's alive?" Nate sighed in relief. It had suddenly become very easy to breathe. The world had even stopped spinning.

"We have an idea of who did it," Jane suggested softly.

Nate groaned and rolled his eyes. He knew what that meant. He was the one still in the interrogation room and everything.

"You didn't do it," Maura interrupted his thoughts, "did you?"

Nate stared at the doctor in complete disbelief. He shook his head and felt the familiar surge of anger running through his veins. How could anybody think he would do that? He could never hurt her like that. He still owed her for the years of carrying his drunk ass everywhere.

"No," he replied, "I couldn't."

"But Eliot Spencer could," Rizzoli said.

Nate's blue eyes shot wide. He stared at the detective and shook his head gruffly. He swallowed down the frustration and the anger and refused to believe it. Then he buried his head in his hands and groaned.

"No," he whispered.

"We need your help, Nate," Jane replied, "He's not going to admit it to any of us. He's only going to admit it to you. Will you help us catch him?"

"Motive?" Nate sighed helplessly, "You don't even have a motive."

"She chose you," Maura supplied.

The mastermind closed his eyes and groaned again.

"He was the one who called the police," Jane finished, "He was there before any of you. The nurses described him as looking a bit on edge but they thought it was just because of the circumstances."

"He's a trained killer," Maura finished, "He could very easily be the reason we have no fingerprints to point towards him."

"If he had just found her why did he remove his print?" Frost questioned softly, "We already knew he was."

"Help us, Nate," Jane stressed, "Help us catch the man who did this to Sophie."

%

"Well, you were right," the doctor said, "She is improving."

Parker and Hardison cheered at the news. They hugged each other tight and jumped for joy at their grifter's recovery. The doctor had performed every single test necessary. He smiled at them and gave them a full report of everything that was happening.

"We'll remove her breathing machine tonight and see how well that works," he finished, "Her lungs are currently breathing on their own and that is a miracle of itself."

"How soon is she going to wake up, Doc?" Hardison demanded softly, "Three days, four? A week? Personally I don't want to wait a week but we'll wait as long as we need to for Sophie!"

The thief giggled at his little joke. She clapped her hands and nodded with him. Then she pulled the sulking hitter into a big hug and thanked him for getting somebody's attention. They were going to be fine after all.

"She may never wake up," the doctor explained, "You see, the damage done was pretty extensive. The fact that she survived is miracle enough. Her lungs are starting to show signs of improvement and even her spleen is recovering."

"But?" Hardison groaned.

"But there is no way of measuring the damage to her brain," the doctor said, "She had a complete lack of oxygen for at least half an hour before paramedics arrived. C.T. scans show nothing but the brain is very talented at hiding things when it comes to poor oxygen levels. She's not exactly young either-"

"English, Doc," Eliot said.

"She very well may never wake up," he shrugged, "The squeezing of her hand could have been trigger to a million things. Right now we're just going to have to wait and see."

"So she's still not in the clear?" Hardison asked, "She did all of this for nothing. We may still end up losing her."

"No," Parker said, "She just doesn't get to talk to us."

"Being off the machines could be a temporary thing," the doctor finished, "She may relapse but this is a good sign. It shows that she has the potential to wake. We just have no idea how much of her will wake up or what kind of difficulties she will experience."

"Thank you, Doc," Eliot sighed.

Then he pushed the man out of the door and turned towards his comrades. He opened his mouth to say some clever words of advice. A garbled mess of words escaped his mouth instead. Tears glistened in his eyes and he felt useless. There was nothing he could do to ease their pain.

"I want this bastard to suffer," Hardison growled, "I want him to feel the kind of pain we're going through. Can you do that, Eliot? Can you make him feel this? Can you make him suffer?"

"Hardison…" Eliot gasped.

"Do it, Eliot," Parker ordered sharply, "You find him and you make certain he never does this to anybody else. You make certain this guy learns that you don't mess with us."

Eliot shook his head despite himself. He opened his mouth to speak only to be interrupted. The hospital door swung open and the mastermind came through like a swirling tornado. The hitter was so stunned he couldn't even block the first punch. Yet another team mate punched his face in because of the grifter.

"You bastard!" Nate howled at the man.

He fisted his shirt and made certain they were nose to nose. He shook him a bit and just stared. Sadness and pain and hatred were swirling in those great blue eyes. The mastermind looked at him like he was a great stain in the room. It was as though they were no longer friends, just enemies.

"How could you do this to me?" He demanded angrily, "How could you do this to her?"

Eliot's eyes grew wide at the mastermind's crushed statement. He could tell the older man was completely tormented by the knowledge in his head. He knew exactly what had happened. He knew everything.

"We've got a few questions to ask you, Eliot," Jane explained calmly.

The hitter just nodded and allowed himself to be taken out. His eyes were glued to the mastermind. He was following like some sad puppy. His eyes were red and swollen with emotion. His muscles were twitching every which way. Yet he refused to look at Sophie. There was only one reason why a man in love would ever refuse to look at the source of that love. He knew everything.

%

"Why did you do it?" Nate demanded harshly. His voice was dripping acid and slightly slurred. They apparently agreed to give him some alcohol. The fools probably thought it was a good idea considering his withdrawal. They had no idea what they just unleashed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Eliot shrugged.

Nate sent a very powerful glare his way.

Eliot rolled his eyes.

"Listen, Nate," he said, "They're doing this on purpose. They're trying to pin us against each other because they want us to do the work for them. They don't care about Sophie! They don't even care if we find her attacker. They just want us to incriminate ourselves so they can put us away for a very long time."

"Stop it!" the mastermind screamed at the top of his voice. Desperation and anger were all over his features. He looked pained and destroyed by everything he was doing. It was a wonder if he was aware of the tears glinting in his eyes. "Stop making them think she's that. Please, stop."

The hitter stared at the man before him. Of course that would be where his thoughts would go. They had never discussed it but the man always thought of the grifter first in each of his plans. It was why he refused to discuss her death in them. He knew she was important but this was just unexpected.

"I lost Sam because I was too much of an honest man," Nate explained softly, "I won't lose her for the same reason. I will do whatever it takes. So tell me… why did you do it?"

"Do what?" Eliot demanded softly, "You haven't exactly been very specific-"

"Dammit, I love her!" Nate shouted towards the man, "What part of that do you not get?"

"You love her?" Eliot gasped staring at the man in shock.

"Yes," Nate nodded, "Now tell me why you stabbed her."

"She chose you," Eliot shrugged, "I told that woman I loved her and that I was going to take care of her in ways you never could. And she still chose you."

"You were jealous," Nate supplied.

"You're damn right I was jealous," Eliot scowled, "And she chose you! I poured out my heart and promised her the world. I did everything to take care of her and protected her from you and she still chose you! I gave her everything!"

"Tell me what you did to her!" Nate hollered.

"I stabbed her!" Eliot screamed, "Are ya happy now? I admit it! It was me! I stabbed her. I stabbed her because she chose you and there was nothing else going through my mind. I was angry because she chose you and it just became too much. Okay, I admit it!"

"Great," Nate snarled, "Fabulous performance. I'm so proud you could use my girlfriend as a sales pitch. Now, what's the real reason you stabbed her?"

"Excuse me?" Eliot stared at him in horror.

"You heard me," Nate growled, "You're going down for this. I can tell you didn't want to. Tell me who made you do it. Why? What was the choice?"

"All or her," the hitter replied, "I can't."

"Then give me a hint," the mastermind whispered.

Jane burst through the door. She grabbed the hitter's arms and immediately started cuffing him. The Miranda rights were explained and read towards the hitter but his eyes were glued to the mastermind. His look was stoic and understanding. He knew what was going to happen next.

"He wasn't as little as we thought," Eliot explained, "Hardison will figure it out."

"You're under arrest for the attempted murder of Sophie Devereaux," she growled, "and I hope you enjoy prison."

"He's Huge!" Eliot shouted on the way out.

"What was that about?" Maura questioned softly.

"He's the small fish," Nate explained, "The man who ordered the hit was after revenge. It was a former mark."

Then he left the room as if nothing had happened.