Chapter 9

Nate and Sophie didn't know whether it was safe to bring Peggy and Hurley back to headquarters or not, since they didn't have any way of knowing the specifics of how and when Gabby had been returned. Quinn, Shelley and Eliot decided together that it was better for all of them to be in one place, a place they could more easily protect than if they were split up.

Shelley hadn't told Eliot of the addition of one person to their group, so when Hurley was one of the first through the door, Eliot glared at him. Nate, seeing his expression, held up a hand and said, "Easy, Eliot. Not his fault. He came to surprise his girlfriend, Peggy, for lunch." Peggy and Hurley? He didn't allow his expression to betray his mild surprise. He shoved those thoughts aside for later consideration and stepped back into the treatment room to check on Parker. She was curled up in a tight little ball, in one corner of the room, hugging a pillow. At least she wasn't trying to jump out the window.

"Parker, I need to talk to the rest of the team. Come on out here with us." Parker still didn't speak, but she slowly rose and limped toward the door. Her eyes were wide and her breathing was labored. Small beads of sweat covered her forehead. She sank to her knees a few feet shy of the door, and Eliot was surprised to see tears filling her eyes and spilling over onto her cheeks.

"Easy, Sweetheart," he said gently, approaching her slowly and carefully, so he didn't spook her. Her knees had to be stiffening up, and Eliot doubted she would get far on them, but he couldn't risk scaring her and having her bolt again. Slowly and carefully, he approached the young thief, speaking slowly and in what he hoped was a comforting tone.

"Parker, I ain't gonna hurt ya. Let me get ya somethin' for pain." She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and if it had been anyone but Eliot, he or she wouldn't have noticed. As it was, he could almost believe she knew who he was, and knew that this was their routine when one or the other of them was injured. Glad to be able to help her, he rose and made his way to the cabinets that lined one wall, stocked with supplies. He removed a bottle of pills, as well as a vial and a syringe. Washing his hands at the small sink, he drew on a pair of gloves. He knew she would rather have the pills, but being uncertain about whether whoever had taken her knew about their headquarters, he knew they might have to move again, and he didn't want her having to try to traverse stairs. He knew she would insist on doing it alone, especially because she didn't really know or trust him at the moment, and he knew it would be better all the way around if he could carry her without her fighting and without causing her additional stress. Using his body, he shielded her from what he was doing, while he drew the liquid in the vial into the hypodermic.

Putting a finger on the ear piece in his ear, he spoke quietly.

"Hardison, I need you to find me any information you can on Parker's medical history. I need to know if she's allergic to any medication." He was reasonably sure she wasn't allergic to what he planned to give her, but since he usually gave her either ibuprofen or a narcotic, she hadn't had this drug before. With the concussion, he couldn't risk her falling asleep, and the amnesia made it impossible for her to tell him what drugs she was allergic to and which ones she wasn't, so he needed another source of information.

A moment later, the young hacker's voice sounded over the comm. "No idea. She didn't choose a regular doctor when she aged out of the system, and since the state handled her care before that, the records were sealed, along with all of her other juvenile records. If she's been to a doctor since then, she didn't give them her real name. I can do some more digging, try to hack into the juvenile records. It'll take awhile, though."

Eliot hesitated, knowing she might not want the rest of the team to know what those records contained, especially the man Eliot knew liked her, and Hardison tended to be overly curious about the personal lives of the rest of the team. "No, don't do that. This drug shouldn't cause an allergic reaction, and there's not really a choice." With one fluid motion, he switched off the comm.

Moving gently back over to her side, he spoke softly to her, watching her eyes grow wide as she saw the needle in his hand. She started to scoot back away from him, but he put a hand on her elbow. The grip was light, not enough to restrain by force, but enough to stop her progress. This had to be her choice.

"Darlin', I told ya before. I ain't gonna hurt ya. Just wanna see if we can make that pain go away." He knelt beside her, staying in a ready stance, in case she decided to bolt again, and waited for her decision. He saw the fear and pain warring with one another on her face. His grip on her arm turned to a hand on her shoulder, warm, supportive. Finally, the pain must have won out because she nodded, and turned her head away, scrunching her eyes up as she did so.

"Darlin', we need to get you better soon so you can go back to working with the team." He paused. "And I miss my sparring buddy," he added, almost as an afterthought. While he was speaking, he injected her with the contents of the hypo.

She kept her head turned and her eyes scrunched tight the whole time he was giving her the shot, and when she didn't move afterwards, he sat watching her, secretly amused at her reaction. Parker, on her best of days, was an interesting combination of tough-as-nails woman, and innocent, if somewhat damaged, child. After another minute had passed, judging by his internal clock, which was usually fairly accurate, she opened one eye, and then looked at him in consternation. She wasn't in the mood for games.

"Well?" she finally asked.

"Well what?" he asked, biting back a smile.

"When are you going to do it?"

"You DO talk," he said lightly, eyes dancing. He held up the empty syringe, smiling at her as he did so. "Already done," he said gently. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, as the implications of what he was saying sunk in, and then she opened both eyes wide in amazement, as she realized she hadn't felt it. He deposited the used syringe into the waste container he kept for such things, and spoke again. "Now, I need to go out and speak to the rest of the team. You have two choices. You can stay in here and rest, and I'll send my friend, Shelley, to sit with you temporarily, or you can come out and join us. I know the team would like to see you.

"I-I don't remember them. I'll stay in here." A fist of worry clenched Eliot's stomach. He knew she wouldn't ever allow herself to be left behind with someone she didn't know well under normal circumstances, and the behavior she was displaying now reminded him of just how much she wasn't herself right now.

Forcing a confidence he didn't feel, Eliot smiled and said, "Suit yourself." He stepped to the door and called to Shelley. When his friend came near, he spoke in a low voice, "Stay in here with Parker while I talk to the team." Shelley nodded, and moved past him into the room. Eliot motioned Parker to move back to her cot, and she stretched out there while Shelley stood at parade rest, just inside the doorway.

(0o0)

Peggy and Hurley were seated side by side on the sofa, while the rest of the team sat more or less across from them. Nate had continued the questioning like they hadn't ever been interrupted.

"What did Gabby do for a living?"

"Oh, her husband wouldn't let her work. He didn't want her to leave the house by herself. There was a period of time where she didn't come to our organization's meetings—either as a volunteer or as a client. He didn't want her to go anywhere without him. That's one of the key characteristics of an abusive spouse. They are very controlling."

"And you don't have a name for this man?"

"No. I'm sorry, I don't. She was worried that he would find out what she was doing, and we would all be in danger. It was an attempt to protect us, and in a way, an attempt to protect herself, too, however misguided you feel it might have been."

Nate let that comment go, got up and moved over to the kitchen. Sophie continued with the questions.

"And you mentioned you have an address for Gabby?"

"I do. Surely you can't think her husband is still there? After everything that has happened?"

"We don't know exactly what has happened, do we? And it's a place to start."