Author's Note: So here's chapter 11, as if you hadn't figured that out already. While most of my recent updates (excluding chapter 10 which was more of a character study of Elektra) have been about plot and trying to keep things moving, this one is decidedly different. There's not a whole lot going on because this chapter and the next serve mainly as an interlude, showing what the characters have been up to and letting them regroup. As I said last time, things will be explained soon enough, but putting everything here might leave you guys overloaded on flashbacks and exposition. And…maybe I'm too lazy to write that long of a chapter.
Also, this might be the last update for awhile. Not a month, not 3 months, but I probably won't be averaging 2 chapters a week anymore. School's starting again and it'll take me a bit to get back into the whole academics thing, lol. Therefore, if you want more story I'll need reviews so I know people actually care and I'm not just writing to myself. And now that my rant is completed, read, enjoy, and leave some feedback on your way out.
Neither moved at first. Matt's jaw hung open while Elektra struggled to discern if this was real or another pain and drug induced illusion.
"Jesus," Matt whispered urgently, closing the distance between them to wrap her in his arms. "Elektra. What the hell happened?"
Elektra returned the hug, reasonably confident that he was in fact here, despite the fact that she had no earthly idea how he was here. She let him hold her, ignoring her body's protests. Running her hands over his scalp, she felt several new bumps there, evidence of how pleasant his incarceration must've been. "What are you doing here?" she mumbled.
He chuckled mirthlessly, inhaling her scent. "Missed you, too."
Elektra didn't reply. He knew what she meant. She pressed a feather-light kiss to his cheek, noting the fading bruises adorning his face. Eyes closed, she felt the room starting to move again, thinking briefly that he was swaying them back-and-forth. Then her legs gave out.
Matt caught her, frowning deeply as he took most of her weight. "Elektra, what happened?" he asked again.
"I'm fine," she said weakly, not answering the question."
"You should get that tattooed somewhere," Garrett declared reentering the room and, maneuvering around the two of them. "How about right next to my name?"
Elektra shot him a vicious glare.
"What's the problem?" he continued, rummaging through a pile of medical supplies near one of the beds. "You put it next to mine, no one will see it anyway." He looked at Matt, gaze holding on the other man's milky eyes. "No one at all."
The former mercenary grit her teeth, ignoring Matt's raised eyebrows. "I can still take you," she threatened.
"Right now you couldn't take a first-grader with a white belt," he shot back, fiddling with an IV she'd failed to notice before.
"I told you no hospitals," she snapped.
"True, but you said that while most of your blood supply was on the floor of the Red-Roof Inn, so I figured your judgment might be slightly impaired. By the way, while you were convincing me to let you bleed out, you also revealed a deep-seeded fantasy involving me, Stick, and Ethan." Leering at his own joke, Garrett adjusted the IV again.
"Ethan?" Elektra repeated, wondering why the name was so familiar. She couldn't think straight and weighed the possibility that Garrett may've slipped her more drugs while she was out.
"Burke," Garrett supplied. "You remember Burke."
As if recognizing he was the topic of conversation, Ethan Burke strode through the still-open door, looking thoroughly put-out. If she'd been surprised by Matt's arrival, Burke's presence threatened to push Elektra's pain-clouded mind over the edge. The man looked the same as he had nearly seven years earlier, tall, muscular, and seemingly annoyed by the world as a whole. His brown-blonde hair and well-maintained beard combined with his striking blue eyes would've made him attractive if he didn't look like he'd just guzzled a carton of sour milk.
"Why's he here?" Elektra asked, ignoring the need to hit the bed and pass out again.
"He got me out of Rikers," Matt replied, though he didn't sound overly grateful.
"Mr. Pierce," Burke nodded curtly. The Irish accent seemed to have lessened over time..
Garrett didn't acknowledge the greeting, turning his attention to Matt. "She needs to lie down."
"I'm fine," Elektra said, not caring that it was an outright lie. Feeling betrayed, she glared at Matt as he carefully but firmly forced her to the bed next to the IV.
"Matt, I'm telling you-"
"You're fine," Abby declared flatly, locking the door behind her. The older woman blinked at seeing her drop a Baretta 9mm on the table. "Right, you're fine?"
"Abby," Elektra began, unsure what to make of that tone.
"You were supposed to get me as soon as she woke up," the teen snapped, pinning Garrett under an angry stare.
"I didn't," the hitman replied brusquely. "Deal."
"Jackass," she muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.
Though she agreed with the assessment, Elektra puzzled over the tension between Garrett and her protégé. They didn't necessarily like each other, but this open hostility was a new development. She made a mental note to grill the teen later, once she could stay awake and no longer felt like she'd gone twelve rounds with Kirigi's entire team.
"I see you taught her manners," Garrett mumbled, performing his own inspection of the injury.
"Elektra," Matt said sharply. "Who is this guy?"
"Nobody," she replied, more a reflex than anything else. She wasn't entirely sure why she was this angry with him, but it was sure to come back to her eventually..
"Hi," Garrett said with false cheerfulness, offering Matt a brief wave. "I'm nobody. Good to know you." To Elektra, "You need antibiotics. Can you try not to bite my head off while I do this?" he asked, gesturing towards the IV.
"I don't need-"
"You're burning up," Matt interrupted. "Could be an infection."
Elektra blinked in confusion until she remembered Matt's ability to sense temperatures. Those finely-attuned senses could be quite irritating. "I don't like drugs."
Rolling his eyes, Garrett threw up his hands in exasperation and pretended to head for the door. "The guy who owns this dump? He's got this little, ugly, pathetic excuse for a dog. Thing attacked me when I checked us in. And you know what the owner told me? The dog's retarded. Literally, little Baxter is retarded. And you know what, E? I'd wager my place in California that the piss-ugly, mentally defective dog that's too stupid to know it's own name has better listening skills than you do."
"We don't have time for this," Burke declared before Elektra could form a response.
Abby, the only one there who didn't know the man's identity, matched his look of irritation. "Can someone explain who he is?"
"He works with Stick," Elektra replied tiredly.
"He works for Stick," Garrett corrected. "Ethan here was his favorite student way back when. Had his head crammed so far up the old man's ass-"
"Thank you for that image," Abby cut in. "But what's he doing here?"
"He got me out of Rikers," Matt repeated, still not sounding terribly grateful. Garrett and Elektra sympathized, united in their dislike of Burke if nothing else.
"I'm here to help," Burke stated, tone making it clear that his presence wasn't a matter of choice.
Garrett nodded. "Thank you, Burke. That explains everything."
Scowling, the Irishman took in all of them from his position by the window, stopping at Elektra's pale form. "We'll discuss it later. Pierce," he shot Garrett a nasty scowl, "is right about the antibiotics and those stitches need to be changed."
"So," Garrett muttered, "Do we club her over the head to make her behave or do you think the four of us can hold her down?"
"Mr. Elektra's going to kill me if I screw this up, right?"
She ignored the pain as Garrett redid her sutures. "No, but I will."
"Same threat, different year," he replied, working the needle through her skin with practiced efficiency.
Abby was outside with Matt while Burke was on a food run, though he'd loathed taking orders from Garrett. ("You want to help? Find us some damn eggrolls. And vodka, the good kind. Think you can handle that without consulting Stick-the-all-knowing-master-of-the-universe?")
"Good as new," he stated. "Don't say I never did anything for you.'
Elektra chose not to point out that the stitches wouldn't need replacing if he hadn't sat there and watched as she killed herself getting out of the bathroom. He would've helped, of that she was sure. If she'd been willing to admit she needed it.
Testing her shoulder, Elektra nodded in approval. It was a good patch-job, testament to Garrett's excellent medical training. Did he get that from S.H.I.E.L.D or somewhere else? She'd never cared to ask, but he'd done a better job than Burke would have in any case. The blonde man sucked in Stick's teachings about Kimagure like a vacuum, but was useless with things of this nature.
As for Matt, she'd ordered him outside, both for Abby's protection and her own sanity. He was too edgy, twitching at every sound, and Garrett was plainly uncomfortable. While Elektra would normally enjoy seeing him on the defensive, she didn't need a nervous man sticking her with needles.
"Garrett-"
"Don't start, okay?" Standing up, he began packing away the medical supplies, refusing to look at her. "I was kidding before and I was trying not to smack you for being such a fucking idiot. No more telling Mr. Elektra about your tattoos or those threesome dreams with me and Ethan."
"You mentioned Stick, too," Elektra reminded, grimacing at the thought.
Garrett laughed, throwing her a smile that took ten years from his face. "Sorry, that was bad wasn't it?"
"Even by your standards," she replied dully.
He shrugged as he went to wash his hands. "They can't all be gold."
Elektra waited for him to finish before speaking again. "What's up with you and Abby?"
The last vestiges of that smile faded as he came out, drying his hands on a towel. "Your seething hatred of me must be rubbing off."
Elektra gave him a look.
Sighing, he threw the towel in a corner. She saw in his eyes that the sloppiness was for her benefit. "She's upset. The kid practically worships you for Christ's sake and you almost died."
"What did you do?"
He walked up to the bed on which she was sitting, looking her square in the face. "I did what I had to do to get you out before all three of us were busted."
"You didn't kill in front of her?" Elektra demanded.
"I wasn't on the clock, E. We got you out; there were a couple moments when it got heated."
"What does that mean?"
"If she's as mad you think, I'm sure she'll tell you," he replied. "You should get some rest."
Elektra opened her mouth to protest, but common sense and exhaustion won out. They'd forced the IV on her and whatever was inside had kicked in already. She could barely keep her eyes open to argue with him.
"I'm getting some ice," Garrett said, and Elektra knew it was an excuse. She wouldn't let her guard down in front of him, a fact he was perfectly aware of.
"Garrett," she called, a half-remembered phrase popping into her mind.
He halted his move for the door, tilting his head quizzically.
"Don't ever call me babe again."
There was enough ice in her tone to widen even his eyes, "Sir Yes sir General Elektra sir!" he barked, adding a salute for good measure.
"She kicked you out huh?"
Matt smiled as he joined Abby outside near the door. "I wanted to see how you were."
"You mean she wanted you to see how I was."
"Both," he admitted softly. "So how are you?"
"Fine. She's fine, you're fine, I'm fine."
Matt's smile turned downward. "How bad was it?"
Abby said nothing.
"I need to know," he insisted.
Catching his sightless eyes in the dark, she took pity on his pleading expression. "Garrett was wrong."
Matt stared towards her in puzzlement.
"He said Elektra was too stubborn to die again."
"She was out for about ninety seconds."
"Out as in gone," Garrett replied sharply.
"Yes," Dr. Collins confirmed. "We got her heart started again."
"The wonders of medical science," Garrett muttered. He was still covered in blood. "She stabilized."
"Yes. It was close, but the worst is over."
"Good. Can we have a minute please?"
The blond glanced quickly from Garrett to Abby to Elektra's unconscious form. "There are some detectives here to see you."
Abby caught a second's worth of frustration in Garrett's eyes, then it was gone. "The boyfriend, he's a cop."
"You said. But if he did this to her…"
"I know," Garrett acknowledged. "I'll just…he's done things before, never this bad, but he's got connections."
"Then we'll find someone he's not connected with," Collins replied firmly. She believed them, or at least didn't not believe them.
"Yeah," Garrett said, resting a hand on Abby's back. "Just…it's her mother. Okay? Can we give them some time?" He pressed painfully into her spine, bringing fresh tears to the girl's eyes.
"Of course," Collins responded, sympathy slipping past her professional façade. "She'll be fine," the doctor added, giving Abby a reassuring smile.
Once she'd gone, Garrett skimmed over the medical chart by the bed, then glanced quickly at Abby. "Good job."
She nodded mutely.
There was a light rap on the door, followed by the entrance of a fair skinned man in a Yankees t-shirt. On seeing them, his face turned red with embarrassment. "Sorry, wrong room."
"Don't worry about it," Garrett replied, shaking his head in dismissal. Smiling awkwardly, the guy in the baseball shirt disappeared down the hospital corridor.
"Stay here," he instructed.
"Where are you going?"
"We have to move," he said, already halfway out the door. "Sit tight."
He returned minutes later pushing a wheelchair in with him. The bloody clothes were gone, replaced by jeans and a Yankees shirt. Abby didn't ask. Pushing the wheelchair next to the bed, Garrett disconnected the tubes surrounding her and lifted Elektra in his arms. Abby caught the look in his eyes, the way he stroked her hair for just a second before setting her down. Lids half-opening, Elektra made a small noise of protest.
"Sorry, babe," he told her, grabbing the chair's handles. "But we have to blow this pop stand before they find out my insurance card's no good."
"Mr. Pierce I…" The pretty doctor trailed off. Eyes blazing with fury and suspicion, she stormed up to the hitman. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Checking out," he replied calmly, glancing at Elektra's unconscious form. "She's incredibly picky, doesn't like hospital food."
Collins backed away, looking at him with new eyes. "I can't let you do that."
"Actually," he replied, abandoning the chair. Abby blinked and he was in Collins's personal space, gun resting comfortably near her heart. "You can." She made to run, but Abby beat her to the door, trapping her inside. The woman continued to move, but something in Abby's demeanor stopped her after a few paces.
Garrett went for her again, forcing her to turn around. With the exit secured, he backtracked, placing his free hand on the chair handle while keeping the gun trained on her. "Now," he said evenly, "we need to go."
"She can't be moved," Collins shot back, a tremor in her voice.
"She can, but I need some things. I need to take care of her when she gets out of here. You and I are going to get some things, then you're going to help us out."
"Look, whatever this is, whatever trouble you're in-"
"Shhh," Garrett hushed her. "You're married," he stated. Abby blinked, surprised he'd bother to notice her ring finger.
"Yes," she answered, some of the fire leaving her eyes.
"That's nice. I'd like that, being married to a doctor, wouldn't have worry about bandaging myself up. You have kids?"
"No," she replied, though all the color seemed to have drained from her skin. A protective hand went over her abdomen which, Abby suddenly realized, stuck out just slightly against her trim figure.
Garrett noticed too, lips quirking in a half-smile. Abby watched horrorstruck as he lowered the gun to her stomach. "That's great," he said conversationally. "Boy or girl? Or don't you know yet?"
"Please," the blonde whimpered.
"Shhh. You're smart, you know I can pull this trigger before you get a chance to scream."
"Garrett!"
"Be quiet," he replied in that easy, casual way. "Stay by the door."
"Listen," Collins said waveringly, tears spilling over as she held her stomach. "I'll help you, okay? Anything, just-"
"I know that," he soothed. "I know you will. And you won't say anything because you're smart. I don't need this gun. I can snap your neck in a heartbeat."
"Garrett!" Abby repeated.
He ignored her. "Susan, right? You said your name was Susan? You're a good person, you like helping people. Well you're going to help me help my friend. We'll get some things to make sure she's okay after she leaves here, then you're going to help us get out, of the building. Quietly."
"Yes, okay! I won't say anything, I promise!"
"I know, Susan. You're a good wife, good mother soon enough. Now we're just going to relax, just for a minute while you get yourself together," he said, indicating the tears and mascara running down her cheek. "You'll get yourself calmed down, then all of us are going to take a walk."
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Abby shouted from the backseat of Garrett's truck as they left the hospital fifteen minutes later
"Turn it down," Garrett replied. "Keeping her comfortable doesn't involve trashing her eardrums."
Abby looked at her guardian, still unconscious, but resting safely next to her. Counting to five, she made herself relax. Kind of. "Fucking asshole," she muttered at a significantly lower volume. "She was having a friiging kid."
"She still is," he retorted. "It's a nerve center, that's all. One pinch isn't going to stop her from having a baby shower."
"I know what a nerve center is," Abby snapped, trying to keep Elektra from being jostles as they went over a bump.
"Then be quiet and let it go."
The girl almost shouted again, but chose instead to bite her tongue. Hard.
"We need to get somewhere we can be for awhile."
Abby didn't reply, merely glowered at him in the rearview mirror.
Matt crept silently into the room, Abby close behind. She'd given him a brief narrative on the last few days, ending with "Then she crashed and they brought her back. Then we left." The lack of details worried him, but so did a lot of things recently. Abby shut herself in the bathroom while he stood carefully over his sleeping girlfriend.
"Come here," Elektra mumbled, astounding him with how quickly she was able to wake herself up. He crawled on the bed next to her, keeping more space than he'd like between them. Blinking fuzzily, Elektra grabbed his shirt collar, forcing their lips to meet. So much for more space to avoid hurting her.
He broke first, shifting himself to a better position as he kissed her still-warm forehead.
"For the record," she stated, words becoming clearer as she came awake further. "I did miss you."
Matt grinned, tracing her jawline and rubbing a hand over her good arm. "Missed you, too."
"You said that already."
"Bears repeating." They were silent for a few moments. "You don't know who shot you."
"I told you, and Abby, and Garrett, and Ethan. More than once."
"I'm sorry."
She mumbled noncommittally. "Abby?"
"She's okay. Relatively."
"It's always relatively," she replied.
"She said you crashed. They lost you for a minute." Hr shuddered involuntarily.
Facing him on her good side, Elektra traced the back of his neck. "Doesn't matter, I'm good now."
He chose not to argue that point. "So Garrett…"
She made a noise in the back of her throat "Garrett's just Garrett."
"That's informative," he replied, unable to mask his amusement.
"He's nothing. I needed someone and he was the closest."
"He the one who taught Abby about guns?" Matt questioned, trying to keep his voice neutral.
"Her idea, not mine."
"She was holding one on me when we got here."
A pause. "Ethan got you out of jail."
"He did."
"He tell you why?"
Matt swallowed hard. "Some of it, we'll make him talk later."
Elektra nodded absently. "The camp's gone, that's why I came here."
"I know, he told me.'
"What else did he tell you?"
"Later," Matt replied.
"Now."
"You're not even half-awake yet."
"Matt."
"When he gets back, after we get some food in you."
She swore at him under her breath and he drew her hand to his lips. "Patience is a virtue."
"I m not virtuous."
Abby came out of the bathroom, hands in pockets to disguise the fact that she'd scrubbed them close to raw. "Get a room," she said, failing to hide her smile.
Elektra raised an eyebrow, gazing slowly around them.
"A different room," she amended. "On the other side of the motel. Where I don't have to hear or see anything."
Garrett came in holding a bag of ice, followed closely by Ethan. "Look what Baxter the defective dog dragged in." Garrett glanced at Matt and Elektra for half a millisecond before concentrating on putting away the ice they didn't need.
Ethan dropped a bag of Chinese takeout on the table. "Found the eggrolls."
"What about the vodka?" Garrett asked.
"Alcohol isn't my priority here, Mr. Pierce."
"Well then what the hell kind of Irishman are you, Mr. Burke? You're a disgrace to your people."
Burke ignored him, scrutinizing Elektra with a clinical eye. "Are you feeling better?" he questioned, looking thoroughly disinterested in the answer.
"What is this, Ethan? Why are you here?"
"Sensei ordered me to make sure you stayed well. I've done that."
"You've talked to him?" Garrett asked sharply.
"No. He gave me the order before The Hand found us." He glared fiercely at Matt when he said that. Then he went for the door.
"Where the hell are you going?' Elektra demanded.
He turned back to her, heaving a long-suffering sigh. "I have something else that needs doing."
"Which is what?" Elektra pressed.
"It doesn't concern you."
"You not answering makes me think it does."
Burke paused, considering his words. "There's a problem with The Treasure. She may be in danger."
Everyone except Burke looked at Abby. "No," the teen denied. "This is bullshit. How long are they going to do this? We can't…we can't deal with their crap now."
"Abby," Matt tried to interrupt.
"No," she repeated. "Tell them to get a new hobby. I'm not part of this, I'm definitely not joining them, why do they keep this up?"
No one spoke at first. Then, thoroughly irritated by the need to explain these things, Burke said, "I didn't say you were in danger, I said, The Treasure was in danger."
