Eliot sat staring at the painfully white walls of the emergency center. He hadn't slept in so long he wasn't really sure how long head been there. Raelyn laid in the bed next to him, hooked up to even scarier machines than last time. Last time, they knew Raelyn would wake up. She had been kept in a medically induced coma to heal, and it was just a matter of time. But this time around Raelyn had lost a lot of blood, but unlike last time, she had lost it very, very quickly. This time, however, it wasn't certain if she would wake up at all.

"Still haven't slept, have you?" He looked up to see Vance at the door. Vance shook his head. "You don't get any rest, you're going to end up in the bed next to her. Then she'll wake up just in time to kick your ass for ending up there."

Eliot sighed and shook his head. Vance was trying to make him laugh. He didn't want to tell Vance that any time he closed his eyes, he saw the jewelry in the river, the pool of blood. He hadn't told a soul he thought he was the one that shot her. "I appreciate the effort, man, but it's not going to help me sleep."

"You know, I have some sedatives that-"

"No. No sedatives. She got dependent on them twice. I don't want them around anymore unless it's medically necessary."

"It just might be."

"Not yet."

"Fine." Vance picked up the chart by the door and went over to check Raelyn's monitors. "Would you sleep if I gave you good news?"

Eliot refused to let hope boil up. "Hm," he said noncommittally.

"Increased brain activity. It's slight, but it's something. And her heartbeat looks like it might be stronger."

"Hm."

"Eliot, have a little faith. Do me a favor, take her hand. See if she has a reaction this time."

Eliot rolled his eyes and reached out to take Raelyn's hand. Hope hit him like a car when her fingers twitched. "She reacted!"

Even Vance's face lit up. "Brain activity's spiking! Try squeezing, not too hard though."

Eliot slowly increased his grip but rapidly pulled away when Raelyn moaned. They both looked up towards her face to see her head snap to the side and her eyes flutter open.

Hope mixed with fear when the first thing out of her mouth was "Ow."

"How are you feeling?" Eliot asked.

"Like there's a hammer imbedded in my skull." She pressed her palm to her forehead.

"I'll get you some painkillers," Vance told her.

"Which one of you is the doctor?" she asked.

"Honey, it's Dad. And Uncle Vance." She looked very confused still. Something was very, very wrong. At first, Eliot hypothesized that maybe she couldn't see right. He held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three."

Vance asked, "Sweetheart, can you tell me your name?"

"No."

"Why not?" Eliot's voice cracked.

"Because I don't know what it is."

Vance raised his eyebrows and avoided looking Eliot in the eye. "We, uh, we gotta run some tests."

"Eliot, there's no nice way to say this, you have absolutely lost your mind," Sophie told him.

"You're asking us to create fake memories of a fake life for your daughter because you think that'll make her happy?" Hardison asked derisively, his face of concern matching those of the other three members of the team as they stood in front of Eliot at the empty pub. Except Nate. Nate looked oddly sympathetic.

Eliot swept his hand through his hair. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Tell her the truth!" Parker demanded, her voice pitching higher in frustration.

Eliot raised his eyebrows and tilted his head back, looking at all of them scornfully. As he spoke, his voice gradually increased from almost a whisper..."You want me to go into that room, look at the girl in that bed, and tell her that she was born to two dumbass drunk teenagers. That her father left her behind to be with a mother that never wanted her, never made her feel loved, made her feel like a burden to the point that she ran away to go live with her dad. That her dad was a murderer. That when she was on the brink of finding happiness with an education and a boyfriend like every normal little girl, she decided to leave both to follow in her stupid father's footsteps. That what she got in return was her boyfriend beating her so bad she tried to kill herself. That when she finally recovered and found someone else to love, that woman turned out to work for the man that turned her father into a monster. That years later, that woman teamed up with the man that beat her to try to kill her and her father so she killed her ex-girlfriend, her ex-boyfriend, and their boss with her bare hands! That after that, she faked her death to protect her father! That she can't remember any of it because the same man she was protecting almost got her killed!"...To an outright roar. "THAT SHE LIVED SUCH A MISERABLE, SHIT LIFE THAT HER POOR EXCUSE FOR A FATHER IS THE ONLY ONE SHE HAS! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT ME TO TELL HER?!" He grabbed a stool and threw it. Even in his rage, he threw it to the opposite side of the room from the rest of them.

He stormed down to the basement to escape, but they followed him. Nate, who had been strangely quiet, softly asked, "What happens if she gets her memory back?"

Eliot stared intently at the floor. "Then I don't have to tell her the truth."

Sophie tried to put a soothing hand on his arm, but he stepped out of her reach. "Eliot, you can't honestly think this is a good idea."

"I have a second...She has a second shot at life. I want to give her the one I owe her. And I need your help."

Hardison brushed nervously at his sleeves. "I just don't feel comfortable doing something like that. I mean, Raelyn and I are friends."

"Yeah," Parker agreed.

"It's one thing to get into the mind of a mark, it's another to toy-"

Eliot smacked his hand down on the ping-pong table. "I'm not asking. You know what? You guys do this for me or I am leaving this team." He fled back upstairs.

"Eliot!" Nate and Sophie called after him.

"You have a day to decide. I hear Quinn plays White Hat now, if you're looking for a replacement."