A/N: I don't own Leverage or any of the characters within, except for those of my own odd creation. I write for fun and not for profit. I don't write slash. Thank you for reading. Also, a special thanks to all who have taken the time to favorite, follow, or review. Reviews really make my day, so please keep them coming. Enjoy.

Chapter 5

Moments later, they heard a pounding at the front door of the apartment, and Sophie disappeared for a moment. Voices sounded in the other room, and then Sophie came back with Detective Bonnano in tow.

"I forgot my notebook," he said by way of greeting, answering Nate's unspoken question at the same time. His eyes found what everyone was staring at, and when he saw Eliot start to move, he followed.

Eliot dropped to his knees and started searching for the person under the rags. A moment later, he discovered a bruised and bloody pair of feet. He took a pair of scissors, and cut the bloodied rags away, until the woman laying before him was totally naked. She was so covered in blood and bruises that he couldn't tell who she was, however.

Bonnano rose, somewhat uncomfortably, and moved back to give Eliot a little space to work. Turning to the counter, he started bagging what he determined to be bloody clothing in large evidence bags to send back to the state crime lab.

Nate, Sophie, and Hardison stood ranged just inside the door, gaping at the sight before them, but afraid to move any further into the room. Rising, Eliot moved to the counter, next to Bonnano and started gathering the materials he needed to clean her up. As he did so, he whispered, "Pat, how are you at assisting with medical procedures?"

"I'm not a doctor, but I can hold my own."

"Okay." He called back over his shoulder to the rest of the team, "Nate, why don't you all go on back out to the living room, and start working the plan. Find Peggy and bring her back here. I'll come out when I'm finished."

"All right," Nate said, motioning to the team and leading them back out the door behind them. Experiencing a strange sense of deja vu, Eliot set the big bowl beside him on the floor and started cleaning her up. He saw it was Gabby, the young woman he had been treating before, and wanted to know why she had chosen to leave, but he bit back the questions with some effort, knowing she was in no shape to answer them at the moment. Seconds later, she opened her eyes and tried to sit up, but found Eliot's strong right arm blocking her attempt as he worked to wash all of the blood off, and determine where it was coming from. Her fingernails dug into his arm as the sensations of pain returned with the return of consciousness, and her breathing grew labored as the muscles in her trunk and abdomen strained with the effort of trying to sit up and breathe at the same time. Eliot didn't like the sound she was making. It meant a possibly punctured lung.

"Easy," he said gently, placing a strong hand on each of her shoulders, and guiding her back down. She didn't loosen her grip on his arm; if anything, she held on even more tightly. "We'll need to get you to a hospital. I don't have the equipment to treat a punctured lung, and it feels like you have a neck injury."

"No!" she croaked. "...'ind me."

"No, Darlin', they won't find you. We'll make sure of that."

"Listen," she hissed, and Eliot grew silent, startled at the forcefulness of her voice and knowing the effort it had cost her in her condition. "No...time." Every breath was an effort now, and Eliot winced in sympathy at the wheezy quality her voice was taking on. "...Alice...outside...must help." Her eyes had grown wide, and she was still struggling to sit up.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, over? Was she saying that Parker was outside? Eliot turned his attention back to the young woman before him. "She's here? Alice is outside here? Gabby?"

But Gabby didn't answer. Her grip tightened on his arm for a moment, then loosened and she started to fall back onto the cot. He gently guided her back down. Her sightless eyes were open, and he watched, unable to speak and barely able to breathe, as the light in them faded and dimmed, until it was overtaken by the glassiness of death. A small trail of blood bubbled up and leaked out of the side of her mouth.

Eliot pulled himself to his feet, struggling to control the emotion that threatened to burst forth from within him. He picked up the bowl full of soggy cloth and red water, to carry it back over to the sink, and without really knowing how it happened, he suddenly found it bouncing off the opposite wall. Damn it. She was my responsibility. Mine. And I failed her.

(0o0)

Bonnano's eyes grew wide as he watched the young man before him. He was fighting to reign in his temper, but it was coiled tight, like a snake ready to strike, dangerous. Pat knew better than most how that knife edge of anger could plunge itself, turning and twisting, into anyone present, even a friend, before it was once again controlled. The best thing he could do at the moment was try to find Parker. So, hehit the door at a run, sprinted through the apartment and past the shocked looks of the rest of the team, yelling "Stay here" behind him, as he took the stairs two at a time. He forced himself to slow down once he got outside, to move quickly and quietly out the back door and around to the alley between the bar and the building next door. Clicking on his flashlight, he searched every inch of the alley. There was no sign of Parker. He walked all the way around the building, and over every inch of the parking lot. Still no Parker. He didn't want to go back inside empty handed. If I were Parker, where would I be? And suddenly, just like that, he knew. He walked back into the building, and climbed the stairs. He didn't go back into Nate's apartment at the moment, but walked on past it to the end of the hall, where a door led to the roof. Climbing the metal ladder, he opened the trapdoor at the top and hoisted himself up onto the roof. He quietly closed the door behind him.

The young woman wasn't readily visible in any of the places he shone his flashlight, but with Parker, that meant nothing. He had gotten to know them all over the past two and a half years, and he knew the tiny blonde was adept at hiding, and she could fit in places you'd never expect an adult woman to fit. If he did this right, it would take a while. Still, the same gut instinct that had kept him alive as a policeman all these years was now telling him that she was here, somewhere. He just had to find her.

Walking on the balls of his feet, so he didn't make much noise on the roof, he started on the side he was on, and looked around and behind fixtures. When he didn't find her, he spread out to the other parts of the roof. After he had checked everywhere he could think of, he stopped, trying to think where else she might be.

As he paced back and forth, he saw the HVAC access panel and wondered if she had somehow gotten down there. With no way of knowing whether or not she was injured, they had to assume that she was in the same condition as the woman inside, and Bonnano found himself at the same time worried about her and wondering how she could have gotten anywhere near the roof if she was injured.

Lifting the lid, he climbed down into the HVAC shaft. Smaller tunnels branched off in all directions. If Parker was in one of these, they might never find her. As he tried to figure out which way to go first, he heard a groan. Shining his flashlight around the small room, he saw that she wasn't anywhere in the main room, which meant she had to be in one of the tunnels. Shining his flashlight into each tunnel, he finally found her, curled up in a tiny ball, too far down for him to reach. He couldn't tell what her injuries were, or if she had any, from this distance.

"Parker? It's Pat Bonnano. Are you hurt?"

There was no answer, and no indication that she had heard.

"Can you crawl to me?" he asked. There was still no response. A cold trickle of fear dropped like an ice cube into his stomach. Not able to bear bringing the thoughts floating in the back of his mind to the front, he pushed them aside, and folded himself into the air duct. Crawling down to her, he saw that she was unconscious. He put the small flashlight in his mouth, and folding her arms together, he picked her up and used his legs to scuttle back down to the access point. He knew he'd need help getting her back upstairs, but he didn't want to leave her there while he climbed back out and went for help. Reaching into his pocket, he took out his cell phone and dialed a number. It rang twice and a gravelly voice answered.

"Yeah."

"Spencer, it's Bonnano. I found her, but I need help. She crawled into one of the air ducts, and she's unconscious. I can't get her out and crawl back up to the roof alone."

"Can you crawl through the tunnel until you find the treatment room?"

"Yes."

"I'll be waiting on the other side, and I'll help you get her out."

Slowly, painstakingly, Bonnano climbed carefully over Parker, and crab crawled backwards down through the tunnel, dragging Parker gingerly behind him, until he reached the treatment room. He crawled a bit past it, and maneuvered Parker into position. Eliot had already removed the cover on the return vent, and as Bonnano moved Parker next to it, strong hands reached through and hauled her out. He laid her out on one of the cots, and then moved back over to help Bonnano climb out.