(A/N – Chapter 26 and we officially finish with the climax. Story's told, right? The team's suffering is over. All's well that ends well.
You don't know me very well, even yet, do you?
My gratitude to Niecie remains as full as ever – she makes me look good despite myself, and if you catch grammar, sentence structure, etc. errors, it's from revision that happened after she gave this chapter her eagle-eyed scan.
I've left out thanks to the many wonderful folks who have favorite and followed this story. I see that and it's another boost to my determination to keep writing and make this novel as good as I possibly can.
Niecie, gibbsrossi and Sphinx, THANK YOU so much for your reviews. Twinchy, thanks not only for your review but for inspiring a great idea for the future rewrite of this part of the novel. And now as you read this chapter you will see why I told you to stop reading ahead!)
Trust Issues
Chapter 26
Nate lay trying to fill his laboring lungs through what felt like a crushed throat, although obviously it wasn't. Strangely, the thought that dominated his mind was Eliot's incredible skill with the knife; in this case, life-saving skill. He felt both gratitude and even greater shame than before that he could have thought Eliot responsible for the non-life-threatening knife wound he'd received, both because of that skill and because of Eliot's nature. Eliot couldn't use a sneak attack on someone who trusted him; he was far too honorable.
As if to confirm that last thought, he heard Eliot's voice through the slowly clearing fog of near-strangulation.
"I'm telling you now, de Theil; if only one person is leaving here alive today, it's going to be Nate Ford."
'It's both of us or neither,' was Nate's immediate reaction. 'You're not dying for me if I can help it. I certainly don't deserve it.'
The problem was that he couldn't quite seem to pull out of the fog. His determination and need-and-whiskey fueled drive weren't responding any longer.
'Maybe I should just lay here and let Eliot think I'm already dead.'
He realized the problem with that immediately. 'But he'd still refuse to leave me – he'd insist on getting my body out.'
Hands gripped his shoulders hard and shook him, helping to clear some of the fog.
"Nate! Come on, you have to get up. We have to get you out of here!"
"Parker," he croaked. "Eliot needs…"
"Eliot needs you to be on your way out of danger so he can concentrate on Da Kill." She pulled him into a sitting position and loosened the noose around his throat before lifting it off over his head.
"Don't do it, de Theil," Eliot's voice rang in his ears. "You set that fire, you won't make it out."
The strength and certainty in the hitter's voice energized Nate enough to get swayingly to his feet with Parker's assistance.
A stream of invectives in French spawned a humorless laugh from Eliot.
"Parker, get him out of here!"
Eliot's voice immediately went hard and cold again after that single order.
"You forgot that you were dealing with a team, didn't you, Lefty?"
"It is of no matter, Spencer. The young lady can die with you also. I have only to trigger this little device you see in my hand, and you cannot escape."
"Close the door and block it, so he won't set the fire," Parker murmured in a tone Nate easily associated with the use of the earbuds. Then she shouted, "Don't trigger it, Da Kill! Look at the…"
"Too late, mademoiselle."
Nate raised his head wearily in time to see de Theil running toward the exit, and to see the door slam shut in his face.
"You can't get out now, so don't trigger your device," Eliot called to the Swiss, who had swung around to stare at them. Before he or anyone else could speak, de Theil was engulfed in a small explosion.
They were distant enough not to be harmed by the explosion, but the event held them all in a stunned tableau for several seconds.
"I guess he'd already triggered it with a time delay to let him get out." Eliot turned and jumped up to grab the edge of the platform and pull himself up with Nate and Parker. "Let's get out of here before that fire spreads. Parker?"
"Sophie's guarding the back door, so we can get out that way."
"Make sure she's all right!" Nate clutched at the arm supporting him. "Even that guy wouldn't be so sure about us if he didn't have a way…"
"Sophie? Sophie!" Parker spoke over the croak that was all he could manage. "Soph… Oh, good."
Nate sighed in relief at her tone.
"What? But you're not hurt, right?"
"What happened?" Eliot asked urgently as he pulled Nate's arm off of Parker's shoulder onto his own.
"An explosion blew out the back door, too. It's burning and Sophie says impassible."
"That's why he was so sure we wouldn't get out," Nate told them with an effort. "Parker, what other exits…"
"The roof," she answered immediately. "This way to the stairs." Parker headed for a small opening at the bottom of the overhead door.
Nate still held back as Eliot started to follow the little thief. One more of his team was still unaccounted for.
"Hardison!" he insisted. "What about Hardison?"
"He said some very naughty things, but he was away from the door when the explosion happened." She stood looking attentive for a moment. "He also says Da Kill came with the door when it blew out, and he's a … crispy critter?" She sounded very puzzled as she repeated that last phrase.
Nate couldn't help laughing, even though it set him coughing violently. He wondered where the hacker had learned the expression that had been popular in Nate's own childhood, taken from the rather unfortunate name of a long-gone cereal brand. His mind wandered for a moment, and he thought he could hear the old jingle: "The one and only cereal that's made in the shape of animals!"
"Let's move," Eliot urged, his voice pulling Nate out of the now ever-looming fog as he physically pulled him toward the door. "That fire is spreading fast, and you sure don't need to add smoke inhalation to your collection."
The smoke hadn't reached the area of the stairwell Parker led the two men to, and with the door closed behind them it wasn't likely to cause a problem. The climb up three flights to the roof was daunting enough, and Nate's world quickly narrowed down to fighting to stay in step with Eliot as the hitter assisted him. He managed until they got about half-way up, then was wracked by another coughing spell. It felt like his throat was closing up completely and his lungs were ready to burst from need.
Eliot sat him down on the steps and supported him, letting him focus on getting his breath back. As Nate began to feel like he was getting at least some air into him, Eliot stopped urging him to breath and said; "I'm going to carry you the rest of the way; you're killing yourself trying to walk it."
"You're hurt too!" Nate told him, pushing him away. "I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me…"
"Oh, but it's okay for you to sacrifice yourself? Not a chance. I hate to use force, Nate, but I will sling you over my shoulder like a sack of feed if I have to."
They only had a moment to glare at each other before Parker's voice called to Eliot from somewhere above.
"Put the harness on him and we'll pull him right up in no time!"
They turned their heads and both saw the rope and climbing harness dangling in midair beside them.
"Bless that girl's crazy little heart," Eliot muttered as he grabbed the rig and started helping Nate into it.
"Amen," Nate managed to respond as he suppressed another coughing fit that was threatening.
As soon as they got the buckles fastened Eliot half helped, half lifted Nate over the railing and steadied him with one hand while grasping the rope Parker had tossed down.
"Ready, Parker," he called out, then leaned back and began hauling on the rope so energetically that Nate felt like he was flying upward for one dizzying moment.
Then Parker was there, guiding him onto the top landing and helping him out of the harness. He could hear Eliot's footsteps pounding up the stairs.
He leaned against the wall and watched Parker make short work of the lock in the door to the roof. As she shoved it open, Eliot reached them and immediately pulled Nate's usable right arm over his shoulder again. They followed Parker out onto the roof.
"Wow!" Flames were already lipping around the front edge of the roof, and when Parker pointed in the other direction, Eliot turned them both to see the signs that the fire in back wasn't far behind.
"No matter," Parker told them. We want to go that way." She came to Nate's other side and aimed both men off to the side. "The fire won't get there until long after we're gone."
"Then let's get out of here, already!" Eliot urged Nate forward.
Parker sprinted across the roof ahead of them and bounded easily over the parapet. When Eliot and Nate got there, Nate saw something that made him feel like it was time to stop even trying. He remembered the side passage, which wasn't much of a gap between this warehouse and the one next to it – little more than six feet. No wonder it had been a simple hop for the acrobatic thief. It would be almost as easy for the hitter at his side. But for Nate…
He let his arm slide off of Eliot's shoulder and put his hand on the parapet, his own shoulders sagging. He finally looked away from the impassible barrier and met Eliot's eyes. Eliot had an eyebrow raised, and Nate shook his head at him.
"I can't." He didn't try to vocalize the words with the condition of his throat, but the noise of the building inferno was far enough away for Eliot to hear him whisper.
"You're gonna have to, 'cause if you don't, I won't." The eyebrow not only went down, but both of them lowered a little as Eliot's eyes narrowed.
Nate looked at the gap and shook his head again.
"Too far," he whispered. "Just go."
"Nate, how tall are you?" Eliot was leaning in to get him to make eye contact again. "Six feet, right? Look, this is what we'll do." He climbed onto the parapet. "You just stand up here, okay?" He turned, crouched slightly and made the jump look easy despite his own beaten and battered condition. Then he faced back across the gap to Nate.
"Hell, you could just fall forward and reach this side!" he pointed out. "So just extend your arms… your good arm, to give me something to grab onto, and make as much of a jump as you can. I'll catch you."
Nate nodded and climbed up.
"Just make it like a flat dive," Eliot warned him. "Don't try to stay upright like you wanna land on your feet. All you have to worry about is falling over, I'll do the rest."
Nate freed his left arm from its sling and lifted it as high as he could manage, extended his right arm straight overhead with a sharp twinge of pain. He imitated Eliot's crouch as he leaned forward and let the pull of gravity take him, holding back until he was far over before he pushed off with what little strength he had left.
He didn't look down, keeping his eyes locked on Eliot's, taking strength from the hitter's confident determination. Almost instantly one of Eliot's hands locked on Nate's right arm just above the elbow and he jerked Nate toward him. Their bodies met with an impact Eliot modified into a roll that took them both safely away from the edge.
They ended up side by side flat on their backs, and Nate quickly realized that Eliot had managed to take the brunt on himself and had gotten the wind knocked out of him. He turned his head and saw the gasping hitter giving him a serious look.
After Eliot had caught his breath, much quicker than Nate was currently able to, he asked, "Did you really think I tried to kill you?"
Nate couldn't meet the hitter's gaze. "I'm afraid so. I… figured you thought it was for the best."
Eliot pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes. "How?" he groaned.
When Nate didn't reply, Eliot touched him lightly on the arm.
"How could you think I would do that to you?"
Nate sighed, but forced himself to look back at Eliot. "To eliminate a danger to the team?" He shrugged.
Eliot sat up and his brow furrowed as he frowned.
"We're going to have serious talk later, you and me. The whole team." Eliot's expression eased as he reached out and asked "Friends?"
Nate hesitated, forcing himself to really recognize his reaction to what Eliot was saying to him and to examine his feelings about this man. Then he took the proffered hand solemnly and responded with a question of his own.
"Brothers?"
Eliot suddenly smiled widely and, still gripping Nate's hand, started to rise. As he came to his feet he was pulling Nate's arm across his shoulders and got him in a fireman's carry before the mastermind realized what was happening.
"No more stairs," the hitter said firmly. He started toward the roof door, which Parker was holding open for them. Before they reached it, Hardison burst through the opening with a fearful look on his face and then skidded to a halt.
"Eliot? Nate?" he spoke wildly, but when he saw that Nate lift his head, and their eyes met, the hacker's voice dropped in pitch as he started to complain.
"Man, you guys gotta stop doing these crazy things!" He pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. "My heart can't take it!"
Then he frowned and took a step forward.
"Nate." His voice carried a world of hurt. "How could you…"
Nate winced and let his head drop onto Eliot's shoulder.
"Not now, Hardison," Eliot interrupted. "We're all too strung out for recriminations. Later we can hash everything out… as a family."
Nate looked up again in time to see a broad grin on Parker's face as she shoved Hardison back through the door.
'As a family – that matters so much to her.'
"Damn, woman, don't go pushin' me like that," Hardison's voice came back to them. "I could'a fell down these stairs and broke my neck!"
Nate sighed and relaxed, thankful for the temporary reprieve, as they started down the stairs behind the thief and hacker. He was startled but gratified when he realized Eliot was singing very softly to himself:
"He ain't heavy, he's my brother."
When they reached the ground floor Eliot eased Nate down and steadied him while he got his balance. He heard Hardison up ahead saying "We're coming out now," and he realized he was about to face the most difficult reunion of all. Sophie had never taken it well when he suffered harm because he wouldn't consider his own safety. Or when he reacted to things in a way she chose to see as foolish.
Surely, though, she wouldn't slap a man she realized was badly injured. Would she?
Evidently he wasn't the only one who wondered about that; at least, as soon as they came out the door and the brunette grifter appeared out of the shadows, Eliot maneuvered so that he was positioned between her and Nate.
Sophie surprised both men by stepping slowly up to Nate, gently taking his face in her hands, and kissing him hard and thoroughly.
"We'll talk later," she told him when she finally pulled back, leaving him with an entirely new sense of dizziness. There was a warning note in her voice, but her gaze was tearful and tender.
"If y'all are through with that stuff," Hardison said pointedly, "we better get out of here before the place is crawling with cops and firefighters."
Eliot agreed, and they moved through the shadows along the front of the second warehouse away from the fire. Sophie took Nate's other side, held his left elbow gently and wrapped her arm around his waist in a tight, supportive grip.
They'd barely turned the corner when two figures stepped out and confronted them.
"Where do you think you're going with that man?"
Nate felt Eliot tense up and start to step forward in response. He clutched at Eliot's shoulder. "Friends!" He forced his voice to work, painful as speaking aloud was. "They're friends." He addressed the words to everyone, seeing Jorheed's hands forming fists despite a frightened expression on the young man's face, and Hardison and Parker looking ready to spring on the pair from the clinic.
Another coughing fit instantly overwhelmed him, and Doc's concerned response must have convinced the team of his good intentions.
"Damn, Nate, what the Hell happened to you now?" the physician exclaimed, immediately coming close enough for Eliot to have clobbered him without putting out much effort, but completely ignoring the threatening stance of the wary hitter.
"Doc," Nate managed to suppress the cough and spoke in a whisper to Eliot and Sophie, who still clung to him. "And Jorheed."
"Let's do the introductions later," Doc said. He turned to Eliot. "We should get him to my clinic; it's just a few blocks from here. Looks like you could use a little patching up too, by the way. Unless you want to take him straight to a hospital, which would be…"
"No!" Nate shook his head and voiced his objection firmly. "No hospital!"
Sophie had started to put her hand over his mouth, but he'd already set off another coughing fit.
"Clinic," Eliot affirmed, pulling Nate's arm across his shoulder again. "Hardison, where's the van?"
"In a parking lot back of this place."
The augmented team moved out in the wake of the hacker.
To be continued
(A/N – So, they've all made it out alive and the crematorium won't have much work to do on de Theil. Hoist by his own petard, as the Greeks would say. Doc is going to patch up Nate and Eliot, and the team is back together!
But what about whoever hired de Theil? What about that crazy mystery house? What has all this done to the team's relationships? Is Doc just a convenient tool to deal with Nate's injuries and then vanish from the Leverage world? What about Jorheed. Oh, and was there any special implication to Nate deciding to sign his note to Doc and Jorheed with his full name?
Any other loose ends I'm forgetting about for the moment? Let me know so I can decide what to do about them!)