Parker brushed the hair from Eliot's forehead as she rinsed his face with a cool cloth. A couple of days ago they couldn't warm him up, now they couldn't cool him down. The Doctor had said it wasn't pneumonia, just a routine low grade infection from all of the injuries, and the antibiotic would settle him down in a day or two, but Parker still didn't think it was fair. As she tucked the stray lock of hair behind his ear, she noted with some delight that his hair was already showing signs of growing back in the injured areas. "It will take a while Sparky, but it will all grow back in." She knew he'd be pleased to hear that. Eliot wasn't vain, but he wasn't stupid either. He knew he was a seriously good looking man, and the hair was definitely part of "the look". It was nice to think of something being normal again.

"Call him Eliot, not Sparky. He needs to hear his name." Hardison was watching from the door, leaning against the frame with an air of utter exhaustion emanating from him.

"I know that Hardison. But Sparky is better. It says energy and life and…"

"Yeah – I know. All the things that aren't real anymore." Hardison turned and left the room again.

"Don't listen to him Sparky. He's just tired. We all are. It would really help if you could wake up though. Do you think you could do that for us?"

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Nate had cleared everything off his desk. There was no point in even pretending anything was normal. For now, there were no cases, no clients. He'd consulted with a few folks, made a few anonymous calls to the cops, the FBI or any other group he thought might help, but beyond that, Leverage Inc. was closed for business indefinitely. Maybe permanently.

The phone interrupted his thoughts. He almost passed, but after looking at the caller ID accepted the call. "What have you got Quinn?" "Everything's done."

"How did…"

"Once I knew what was done, I knew who it was. Doc was right. Guy named Torello - a royally sadistic bastard. Eliot put him down once, years ago, but I guess it wasn't hard enough. He regrouped, got rich, and decided to get even. I called in a few favours. This guy's not coming back again. Tell Eliot that – it might help. Call if you need me." The call ended. Nate flipped on the TV in time to catch the breaking news update, of a police raid on a warehouse where 11 men were found hog tied, and more than a little the worse for wear, but all breathing. There was enough evidence on the sight to arrest them all on drug, weapons and human trafficking charges. None of them would ever see the outside world again. The ring leader had not been arrested. According to the reporter, it was believed rival drug gangs had taken him. Police were searching for a body. Nate was fairly sure they would never find one, although a few parts may show up from time to time.

His head knew this was the ideal solution – the only solution – but he was angry. He wanted to stare the bastard down himself. He wanted to be the one to do to him even a little of what he had done to Eliot. He knew how Eliot would feel about that, and didn't care right now. He wanted it so badly it scared him. He walked over to the bar and poured a whiskey. Then he could hear Eliot's voice from longa ago in his head. "YOU quit Drinking. You?And you moved in above a bar.That's very…Catholic." He put the glass down. He'd drink when he could drink with his friend.

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Last night had been quiet. Eliot finally seemed to be sleeping better, with no fevers or tremors. He was still most of the time, possibly because all of the injuries were keeping him mostly immobile. It all looked normal, if you ignored the fact he hadn't been awake once in the last 8 days. Two and half weeks had passed since that day and there had been only the three words that convinced them Eliot needed them. That was why Nate damn near dropped his coffee when he walked into the room and heard the rough voice. "Shhh. Sophie's asleep. Looks like she needs it."

"Yeah – you're not exactly photogenic yourself right now."

Somehow Eliot had hitched himself up on the pillows, and was reclining with his head raised. Nate had a feeling that had been a strenuous exercise, since there was a thin sheen of sweat covering the younger man's forehead. The discussion had roused Sophie, and she was staring, and smile spreading over her face. Nate was glad to see that – he was a little afraid he'd been hallucinating. "I'll let the others know" she leapt to her feet to leave.

"Slowly Sophie, take your time. Give me a couple of minutes with him." She nodded, beamed back at Eliot and headed to spread the news.

"Could you…"? Eliot coughed lightly, and groaned at the effect it had on him. Nate jumped forward then stopped, not really knowing what to do. Eliot looked at the water bottle and Nate started to hand it to him, then remembered the casts. He held the water to Eliot's lips, and tried not to look him in the eye.

"It's OK Nate." Eliot's voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm going to get through this. I can deal with anything but pity. Don't do that to me Nate. Make sure you tell the others."

"Absolutely. You tell us what you need. We'll get through it together. " He paused a moment. "Quinn and some friends have handled the problem – permanently. Does that help?"

"Not yet – but it will." Despite his words, Eliot could feel a bit of tension release with the news. "So how bad am I busted up?"

"Nothing that won't heal."

"You sure? Cause it hurts like a sonofabitch right now."

"Yeah – doc wasn't sure what a strong pain medication would do—what affect it might..."

"S'OK Nate. I get it. Not my first rodeo. I'm gonna try to sleep some." His speech was already slurring with fatigue.

"Sparky? You really back?" The blonde head poked around the door.

"You bet darlin'. We'll talk later. I gotta sleep."

"Can I stay with you? I won't poke – I promise." He nodded slowly, falling asleep, and she slid into the chair Sophie had vacated, curling up and grinning uncontrollably.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A couple of days later the Doctor took the IVs out, gave them a long list of dos and don'ts, and announced he wouldn't be back again unless they called him in. He gave a half smile to Eliot. "Have you figured out where you know me from?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Nate told me your story, but clearly you have me confused with someone else."

"OK – if you say so."

"Stories like that can seriously damage a guy's kickass reputation. Putting little kids to bed – seriously?"

"If you say so. Take time to heal Mr. Spencer. You were a lot of hurt, and this isn't going to be fast or easy – even for someone like you. Oh - and if at all possible, try to not punch anything for a while."

Eliot reached out. The casts prevented much contact, but he had to try. "Thanks, Doc."

"No problem – I owed you one."

A few days after that Eliot made his first public appearance. It took him at lot longer than he expected to walk from his room to the office. Every muscle was voicing objection to the effort. His legs felt like lead weights were attached, and his focus faded in and out around him. He dropped into a soft chair as soon as he could, trying with limited success to keep the strain off his face. "So – what are we working on?"

Four "are you serious" stares looked back at him. "Gee, we've been a little busy lately."

"OK – but nothing stopping you now. There were at least half a dozen jobs we'd listed that won't likely require any brute force, so for the next couple of weeks you can focus on those until I'm back."

"Couple of weeks?" Hardison stared at him with a 'what-you-talkin-'bout' look on his face. "I know you haven't been overly mobile, but have you looked in a mirror lately? In a couple of weeks you MIGHT be ready to go back into the kitchen. Ass-kicking is not in the short term plan."

"Once I get into the gym things will loosen up and I'll get back into shape –

"Point number 3 on the 'Don't' list – The Gym. You are not stepping foot in there for at least –"

"Nate, I'll be fine. I'm still in casts for God's sake. I just want to start stretching out. Maybe some Tai Chi to start to strengthen up again." He paused for a minute to try to control his breathing. They could hear the tightening in his voice; see the muscles in his jaw tensing. "You think I don't know that I can't fight anymore? That I'm not that guy now. You think I don't know my limitations? Fine; my limitations are that I can barely walk, have no sense of balance, can't take a deep breath, or do a basic kick. I can't feel my fingers or lift my left arm higher that my shoulder. In other words, pretty much useless, but thanks for the reminder." Of course a rant like that is much more effective if you can slam out of the room Spencer, he thought to himself. Now you just get to sit here and look stupid. Well done. He closed his eyes, and leaned back, waiting for the inevitable lecture from Nate. All he heard though was a sigh. "Do what you have to do Eliot. Some things never change."

"I'm trying to change Nate. I'm trying to realize I have no choice. Ya gotta give me some time – some room. I'm gonna find a way to make this work again."

"That's the problem Eliot - WE need to find a way to make this work."