When Eliot showed up at the kitchen Sunday there was an envelope waiting for him. A quick glance showed him Hardison had printed out all of the biographical info he had, limited though it was. He wasn't ready to read it all yet, but recognized the conciliatory gesture. Tucking it away, he got to work.

Parker showed up a while later, putting in a request for her favorite "yummy black noodles". Had it been anyone but her showing up with a lunch order he'd have been suspicious of the motive, but one thing was painfully clear with Parker – she didn't have guile in her repertoire. So he made her noodles, she grinned as she ate and she left, telling him the same thing for supper would be fine.

Sophie, on the other hand, was nothing but guile. In this case, all meant in the nicest possible way. She found small reasons for coming by, pretty much taking him back to her actions the first days he returned. There was no way on earth anyone could drink that much tea in one day. He got that she was trying to show support, to convince him that things could be normal again. He appreciated the effort, even if he didn't fully believe it. He was surprised to realize that he actually didn't doubt her, just the message.

Nate – well Nate was the Nate he had come to know, and strangely like. No apologies, no pretense. Just charge ahead. The only concession to the previous day's revelations came in the form of a request, late in the day. Along with everything else he was processing, Nate gave him another problem to consider. He wanted Eliot back on the team, back at Leverage. Would he think about that? Truth be told, that had already been highly placed on his "think about it" list. Knowing he was wanted back helped sort the options, and helped confuse him at the same time.

And so it went. Gestures, some small, some major, from everyone, trying to create a sense of normalcy in the Pub. If the staff was a bit surprised by the change from Evan to Eliot, they took it in stride. Wasn't the first time their employers had acted a bit peculiar, and they were sure it wouldn't be the last. But as long as Eliot was still there cooking, they were happy.

While a voice in his head kept telling him to pack up and head out, another louder voice advised him to sit tight and let things play out. He silenced the first, and decided to give himself at least a week to try to figure things out. Which is why, one week after the robbery, he was again helping Cassie close the Pub on Friday night. He hadn't planned on staying late. He'd been in early covering lunch prep and the afternoon shift, and was ready to call it a day when he saw Cassie come on duty. Nate told him she had come to him, asking for the assignment. She needed to face her fears, and the only way to do so was to get back on the horse. Eliot decided she needed someone sharing the ride with her, and was wiping tables after a 14-hour day.

"Honestly Ev – Eliot. You didn't need to stay. I'm fine."

"Did it occur to you that maybe I need to do this too? I was part of it all last week – remember?"

"Yeah – I saw you in action, which is why I seriously doubt that you are having trouble dealing with the trauma. But, if that's the best you can offer, I'll take it." He grinned outwardly, while thinking she was lucky she had no idea what he was dealing with, and kept cleaning tables.

"Nate tells me you plan to name your next kid after me" he teased. "What if it's a girl? Evan is not a great name to saddle her with."

She looked up puzzled. "I thought Eliot was your real name."

"Yeah, but Evan was the guy who came through for you. I'm not sure about Eliot yet."

"Pretty sure they're both worthy. Anyway, I've got a few months to make up my mind." She grinned.

"Months? You mean…? Hey, that's great!"

"I didn't even know when I was joking with Nate. Doctor told me after checking me out for stress from all of this. If it's a girl, maybe Eva?"

He looked down smiling shyly. "Not necessary. But do me a favor. With your last name, not Eliot. Eliot Ellison is just wrong."

She laughed, nodding in agreement. "Deal."

Neither heard the door open as they joked. It was only the slight breeze from the movement that alerted Eliot to the intrusion. Looking up, but with his back turned, he caught a glimpse of the reflection of Leather Jacket in the bar mirror, gun raised to dispose of the witnesses who could take him down. He knew there wasn't enough time to cross the room in time to stop him. Hoping the stunt would work twice, but not for a moment expecting it to, he grabbed a full wine bottle from the box he had been unloading and flung it backwards, pushing Cassie down with the other hand, and trying to block her at the same time. He didn't see that the bottle made full contact with the shooter's head as he pulled the trigger, dropping him like a stone. He didn't hear Cassie grunt as she hit the ground, safe from any danger. He only felt the bullet rip into him as he collapsed to the floor and began gasping for breath.

The battle sounds made their way to that back office where the team had been waiting for a chance to talk to Eliot. They charged out in response, Hardison with cell phone in hand dialling 911 as they collectively skidded to a stop. Nate moved again instantly, dropping at Eliot`s side and pressing a bar towel onto the wound. Cassie had already moved to his head, cradling him gently in her lap. He looked up at her. "Remember – not Eliot" he said, passing out.

"No, Eliot." Nate shouted at him and shook gently. "You don't get to leave us again. Not happening. Eliot, stay with me. Hold on." The others had circled as well; Parker at his feet, whispering Sparky over and over; Hardison holding his hand. "Dammit Eliot – you can't do this to me man." Sophie knelt behind Cassie, supporting her and quietly praying for Eliot to defy the odds one more time.

Late the next evening the team was scattered around Eliot's room. Nate had dozed off sitting by the bed, head resting on the mattress, waiting for him to rejoin them. They'd been lucky – again. As terrifying as things had appeared at the scene, the bullet had actually done minimal damage, on the scale of things. A fair bit of blood loss, but no serious issues. Now it was just a matter of getting his strength back before he could leave. Eliot had heard the doctor telling all of this to Nate a little while ago, without letting on he was awake. He lay there reviewing the last few months. It was all there now. His past, both distant and recent, was clear in his mind. He remembered everything, from the rescue mission to the shooting at the pub. He remembered Evan, and his confusion and uncertainty. He hated that feeling, not being used to being out of control. Damn lucky he hadn't run into anyone from the old days during that time. He doubted Evan would have survived it. On the other hand, he did OK during the first robbery. Maybe there was something to be said for instincts after all.

Mostly, he remembered the reactions of the team. Looking back, he could now see their confusion and uncertainty too. He could understand why they did what they did, keeping him a secret from – well from himself. And, to a degree, they were right. He probably wouldn't have handled all of the information very well. The real Eliot was not an easy guy to live with – he should know.

Still, he felt a bit uneasy about everything that had played out. He needed to know that he could count on them to be honest with him, no matter what. There had been trust issues in the past, for all of them. He thought they'd worked past them, but now? Now he needed to be sure.

He coughed and moaned softly, knowing that would bring the others to life. He was right. Four figures surrounded his bed in seconds. Eliot opened his eyes and spoke one word. "Home?"

Nate laughed softly. "Not for at least a few hours – make that days." Eliot shook his head, but Nate held firm. "You got shot Eliot. Don't worry, nobody else was hurt."

"'cept the bad guy dude – you took him down."

Nate silenced Hardison with a glare and went back to Eliot. "Most people take that as a sign to take a few days off. But of course, when have you ever done what most people do." Eliot shrugged, wincing at the way his body reacted to the movement. OK, maybe he'd stay here for a day – tops.

He coughed again, and Parker offered him ice chips, which were gratefully accepted.

"Shot? No, that's not right. It was Explosion. How'd I get here?"

They team looked at each other. He hadn't questioned being called Eliot, but he was back to the explosion. This wasn't good.

"Eliot, what's that last thing you remember."

He hesitated a moment. "I was in… well I was with… I can't tell you."

"You were with Shelly. He told us, a little."

"What did he tell you? Everybody OK?"

"Everyone's fine Eliot. That's the last thing you remember?"

"Should there be more?"

Nate processed the situation quickly and started filling in the history. "He didn't tell us much; just that the mission was a mostly a success, with one exception. You didn't come home." He paused for a second as the memories threatened to overtake him. "We all thought you were dead. Then 4 months later you showed up at the Pub with no idea of who you were."

"That's crazy."

"Tell us about it." Parker agreed. "You were this guy named Evan, who didn't play guitar, or steal things, or fight – well it turned out he could fight, but still, didn't like it. But he could cook as good as you do. And throw darts and play poker. He was you, but he wasn't Sparky. You know?"

Eliot reached up with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming on. It was like old times.

Sophie reached out to silence Parker. "Slow down Parker, you're throwing way too much information at him." Parker bit her lower lip and quieted. Eliot gave Sophie a grateful look and turned back to Nate.

"You got a job as the Pub assistant chef – yes assistant. And we didn't let on that we knew you. Doc said it was best you remembered on your own. Led to a few issues, which I think are best discussed at a time you are feeling a little more like yourself."

"How'd I get shot?"

"Robbery. Like I said, nobody else got hurt. Cassie is fine, although I am pretty sure she won't be working closings anymore."

"So when do I go home?"

"Let's give that a couple of days, shall we. And um, well - we will need to discuss the whole 'home' thing." Eliot raised his eyebrows. "Well, you were missing for months. And everybody thought you were – well - dead – until you walked in the door, so…"

"You sold my place – my stuff!?" The icy glare was back.

"Not all of it, and we didn't sell so much as lease." It was scary to see that look on Eliot again. Good, but definitely scary. The team took it as a cue that possibly Eliot needed a bit of quiet time to absorb all of this information, and hastily decided it was a good time for a strategic retreat, disguised as a coffee break. All but Nate left the room. He looked straight at the hitter, who was forcing himself to calm down.

"So, did we pass your test Eliot?" Damn – it was hard to put one over on Nate.

"How…?"

"You didn't ask who Cassie was. Wasn't sure about it until then."

"Could you always read my mind?"

"No, not always. Didn't do a very good job for the last few months."

"Yeah – but that was Evan. He was a very different guy."

"Not really all that different. Just a little less schooled in the ways of the world."

"And you weren't about to share my education with him. It's OK Nate, I get it. Not sure I like it, but I get it." He paused for a moment. "Got to admit Nate. There's a little part of me wishes he was still around. I think it was kind of nice not remembering everything."

"Maybe that's why he showed up in the first place. Let's face it Eliot, you've got a lot of demons in there – and they work overtime. Maybe it was time for them to have a vacation."

"You take up psychiatry while I was away? Don't quit your day job." He smiled to soften the comments. "Doesn't much matter why it happened. It's done now. You're stuck with me again."

"Worse things in life. We'll set things up for you to have a place when you get out of here – in a couple of days." Eliot growled softly, but Nate was pretty sure he had a remedy for that.

"Got a list of clients waiting too. You ready to start earning your keep again?"

The end – well, at least for now.