Leverage belongs to Dean Devlin and his team…same guys who are bringing us The Librarians – also starring the uber-talented Christian Kane. As usual, I own nothing, just borrowing them for a short while.

Did I mention how much I hate TNT for cancelling this epic Series?...

Very many thanks to the incredible Valawenel who helped me with a serious case of writer's block and assisted me with this latest offering :-

Eliot was blinded by a hue of bright whiteness, instantly and entirely out of nowhere, and overcome with a feeling of warmth that came from the piercing light shining down upon him. His first thought was that it came from a torturer's lamp, lit and pointed directly at his face. Thankfully before he reacted, he realised that his eyes were indeed open and he was staring at the ceiling in what could only be a hospital of sorts, hence the bright lights.

Cognizance came with a price, nausea to begin with. Perhaps it was a hospital ship? Either way, he felt hideous, not just because his chest felt like it was being compressed down in on him; no, there was more to this sense: one born of years at the top of his profession, one born from pure survival instinct. Perhaps this sense was an innermost instinct, something almost worse than his rancid mind. He searched back through his mental recall, even though the movement of his eyeballs was causing a motion headache. It proved helpful and he eventually recalled why he was propped up with numerous pillows.

Obviously they deemed him bad enough to warrant the use of a full face oxygen mask, which he latterly realized was already being removed by his less than graceful hands. Great, now he had the manual dexterity of a ferret

The whoosh of escaping air flooded through the roughly discarded mask, which had initially hidden the awkward silence he could now hear. A wry grin was all he could manage, as he vaguely recalled the team leaving for dinner; naturally there had been a lengthy discussion over who might remain to babysit. Thankfully they'd all gone in the end.

Clearly I've been here too long already. He attempted to cautiously roll his aching body over onto his side, hoping it would alleviate, rather than cause more pain. He should have known it would be more painful, so entirely unsurprised to find himself further frustrated when he couldn't prevent the grunt of pain escaping his lips.

He felt an anger building inside of him, flowing through him like a raging torrent of water, not simply because of how the whole situation with Mason ended – and it had got ridiculously out of hand. Nope, he was beyond pissed at his own physical limitations, his own pain; his own weakness. He could practically feel his frustration levels building and each tiny molecule of globular frustration was rapidly forcing themselves along his veins, heading from his mind out towards the extremity of each limb.

His machismo wasn't borne of vanity - that much was straightforward enough in his own mind; he was their protector, their defender from any and all known, and unknown, enemies. All the while he lay around here the team would remain defenceless. Okay, so individually they'd all survived without him before the team got together; though one might presume they hadn't pissed off quite as many people all by themselves. …Then again?

A physical shudder ran along the length of his spine, making him feel like his vertebrae lifted individually, before dropping back into place, akin to a domino rally and causing him to wince in pain. He felt a cold shiver travel across his bruised skin. Concentrating on the pain caused his mind to wander into his own past life, pre-Leverage and he considered the enemies he managed to make all by himself. He shook his head to clear his vision, and hopefully reset his fuzzy mind, to clear those morbid thoughts of his former existence before they filtered much further through his medicated and all-too hazy mind.

Might as well give 'em all keys to my safe houses, Eliot begrudgingly surmised, harrumphing at the idea of Damien Moreau, amongst others, paying him a visit while he was incapacitated.

Another shudder, this time much more physical and amazingly the pain cleared his mind in an instant. Decision made, he took a deep breath and holding a protective arm across his stomach, he leaned to the left using his elbow to prop himself up slightly. Any thought of Moreau, or his men, visiting him led him to think of what that evil bastard could do, and undoubtedly would do, to the team while he was laying around in this hospital. One swift and decisive motion left Eliot reaching for the cables that kept him prisoner, verifying what they were attached to briefly by regarding the various machines around his bed.

Yanking them firmly from his arm he heard a siren begin to wail as he managed to finish his elevation into a half seated position. Odd how your senses returned once your mind was clear; sadly he was off his game and clearly out of character, because it was only then he realised through his half opened eyes that he hadn't been alone as he first thought.

"Losing it Spencer!" he sighed as the tutting sound reached his ears.

* - Leverage -

"Tsk… tsk… the great Eliot Spencer sneaking away like a thief in the night."

Thankfully his ears were working again and hearing a familiar voice dripping with sarcasm meant he could resist the fight or flight impulse that would usually have sent him haymaking through any resistance that stood against him. Today that wasn't necessary.

Nate shook his head as he paced quietly at the foot of his hospital bed. "We, as in the team," he paused for effect before continuing, "your family, leave you alone for a measly 20 minutes and you're trying to sneak off."

Moving slowly towards the now successfully growling hitter Nate decided that although he had shamed the muscular youth over his attempted 'escape' from the hospital, possibly even temporarily pausing it, that this was certainly not the time to dance all over that little celebration; maybe it wasn't even the time for sudden movements.

"How about you tell me what the rush is all about?" Nate's voice softened, as he stepped close enough to ensure the younger man was settling back down. Thinking about his laboured breath, Nate thought of reaching for the mask, but a well-timed glare was enough to put him off that idea.

Eliot wasn't entirely sure of his own voice, after all he'd not only been having nightmares about Damien freakin' Moreau, but to cap it all Nathan bloody Ford had snuck up beside his hospital bed, without so much as drawing the World supreme Hitter's attention.

"No." Trusting his voice was going to be his next downfall and boy had he already had enough of that shit. Two can play at that game Ford from now on brevity was going to be the name of the game!

"I don't think the doctors and nurses who've spent the better part of this week trying to keep you alive would necessarily agree with your somewhat hasty departure." Sitting down next to the bed, Nate spared a glance at the chair like it was a long-lost friend before looking back towards the bed. Even beneath his wall of dishevelled hair Eliot could tell that his friend was suffering. Just being in a hospital made Nathan Ford suffer. The tension was coming off the older man in waves. While the pause gave him time to level out his pain, still trying to catch a full breath he looked up at Nate to find him staring straight back at him, his game face back in place.

"Tell me what the rush is, and if it's important then I'll help you."

Realising his lack of using big words was not entirely due to trust issues, but mostly down to the nagging pain burning through his chest, Eliot relented and eased back into his pillows. Had he mentioned he was struggling to draw breath? Settling himself back caused a whole raft of new pains to reveal themselves; struggling to draw breath, he needed to express himself before he passed out.

"Not safe…" Eliot was by this time full-on wheezing again and the pressure was building up inside his chest. He felt like his lungs were going to burst, but he had to tell the mastermind to take the team and run, but he couldn't quite work out why now. "Take…others..n'…go."

Holding the oxygen mask back over the southerner's mouth, Nate turned and waved in the nurses, who he'd staved off at the door when he first returned early from dinner to find all the sirens blaring. Nate remained by Eliot's side, and though he'd never admit it, it made Eliot feel calmer.

Closer inspection highlighted just how pale their patient looked again and Nurse Wesley asked Nate to step back. They administered a cortico-steroid to help alleviate the crushing sensation Mr Daniels was likely feeling; it was fast acting and a second perfusion held a mild sedative. The patient would in all likelihood be panicking by this stage and as they already knew of their patient's history; it would be safer for all concerned.

* ~ Leverage ~

The scene that lay before him had Nate wishing they hadn't forced Parker out of the room for food; she would never have allowed Eliot to move. Now when she came back, there would be no argument to put forward for her to leave again until Eliot was also ready to depart.

"Dammit…Eliot!" harrumphed Nate, coining the hitter's well practised phrase, albeit usually aimed towards the much younger Alec Hardison. If the cowboy heard him, then he failed to acknowledge so and seemed to tire easily just drawing breath.

Watching the angels bustle around his bed was like watching a well-choreographed dance, or even one of Eliot's fights. This was a team which worked without dialogue; passing each other cables, wires and another ensuring that Eliot was taking the deepest breaths he could manage, back onto the 100% oxygen on full flow to ease his workload.

He smiled when he watched Nurse Wesley swatting the pair of feebly protesting hands at the face mask, taking his hands in her own. "Now Mr Daniels, you've got to leave that in place. No talking and certainly no moving about." The middle aged nurse lectured in a comforting but no-nonsense manner, turning her head to order another glucose bag to be hung for his drip, before she continued to talk with Eliot. "You're in no condition to be doing more than concentrating on your breathing."

Nate turned as the door flew open, Parker's face pale, aghast at the presence of so many nurses.

"What's happened?" she demanded. "Is he okay?"

Nate tried to slow her down but she pushed past him until she could not only see Eliot where he lay, but he watched as she reached out to touch his arm.

On his way under, Eliot must have heard the commotion because he managed to raise a weak hand, freed from Nurse Wesley. It was clearly too much for the worn out hitter, but it visibly eased the anguish on Parker's face and that made Nate's own chest constrict at her pained expression. It obviously reminded Eliot of the pitch her voice took when they were back in that damned cell. Breathing out hard once more she moved to take the offered hand in hers as it dropped back on the bed and yet another tattle-tale machine let loose its battle cry.

Nate was back by the bed in an instant, Parker even closer. Sophie and Hardison stood back as motioned by the nurses, one of whom had been dispatched to page the doctors. Parker was especially helpful when Eliot began to suffer from horrific nightmares, leading to night terrors, many of which ended with his blood curdling screams. The patient's brother had advised them of the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) which the ex-soldier had been previously diagnosed with. Of course Nate didn't actually know if that was why Eliot suffered from such hideous bette-noires or night terrors, but he could believe that a soldier of his calibre would have seen action at one point or another; therefore it wasn't too outlandish an assumption.

* ~ Leverage ~

Stroking his fallen arm, while holding his fingers entwined in hers, Parker began to talk softly to the muscular man, telling him God-only-knows-what in that oh-so-soothing voice that Sophie had taught her all about.

"It's okay to sleep Eliot, though it would be nice if you could stay awake sometime and show us all that you're getting better," adding quickly before her voice broke, "please." to the end of her speech. She was tired, no, strike that, she was beyond frazzled, both mentally and physically. Now, some might say there was nothing new in that, but the previous night Sophie had encouraged her to at least try to sleep, tempting her with thoughts of Eliot being awake, so tonight would be worth being fully lucid. Frankly, they were all beyond tired themselves and even when they left the hospital to rest, they paced and generally worried themselves rather than garnering any quality rest. It was a huge boost that their friend had woken, but it seemed things weren't destined to be quite that straightforward, just yet.

* - Leverage -

Doctor Olivia Steele had been and had concluded, prior to heading off to check on another troublesome patient, that while Eliot had a long road ahead of him in the recovery department, he would indeed recover; which had been in question at earlier points during his emergency care pathway. Tonight he had simply over exerted himself and the mild sedative administered would ensure he slept for the remainder of the evening. When she had finished talking with Nate, Sophie and Hardison – she regarded the blonde woman sat by her patient's bed. "I see you managed to get her away for a while. Is she sleeping at all?"

"A little here and there," Sophie answered candidly, "although I doubt Parker will be leaving him again for the time being."

"Please keep trying; she'll be no use to him whatsoever if she's worn herself out." Dr Steele warned as she turned to leave.

"There'll be no getting her away to rest now, Nate." Sophie spoke quietly so that only the two men could hear. "What on earth happened?"

"I came back up to find him trying to sit up, and he was pulling out his wires." Nate pinched the bridge of his nose, before dragging his hand down his face. He also looked shattered; it was more visible on his pale face, darker than usual eyes, sunken in their pallor. "He wanted me to take the rest of you and go, stating it wasn't safe here."

"No way man, uh-uh - that ain't happening!" Alec was first to react vocally, while Sophie closed her eyes and dipped her head.

"No, of course it's not happening. You've already hidden his whereabouts and laid credit card usage around his usual haunts and we're using his alias here," Hardison was content that they'd covered all the bases to ensure their safety, and that of their downed teammate. "I'll stay with them tonight. You two should go and try to get some quality sleep."

They fell silent for a moment; a senior nurse had completed her write up of the dinnertime incident, and needed to move between the three friends to get past. When she was clear of them, Sophie interjected,

Interrupted by the senior nurse who had completed her write up of the dinnertime incident, and needed to move between the three friends to get past – when she was clear of them, Sophie interjected. "No Nate, I think I need to stay and talk with Parker. Why don't you two head back, and I'll call you with an update later."

Appreciating Sophie's offer, the two men took their leave. Finally alone, Sophie headed for the vending machine. She emptied her change into the metal dispenser, and she chose two bottles of Evian before taking a deep breath, and steadying herself. Then she opened the door to Eliot's room and fixing her matriarchal visage in place, she headed for the chair next to Parker.

* - Leverage -

Parker didn't need to hear the doctor's latest update first-hand; she knew that Eliot was going to be alright. He was the strongest person she knew, ever, in the whole wide World. She couldn't bear to consider any other outcome. She needed him, he looked out for her; he was the closest friend she'd ever had. All these days and nights she sat next to his bed waiting, first for movement, or in the waiting room awaiting updates, and Parker was worn out. But there was no way she was leaving again. Eliot Spencer had only bloody gone and woken up while she was eating. Right when she needed to be there for him, she was filling her stomach, she couldn't believe the cruel irony of it all. He should never have woken alone and he wouldn't be waking next time without her being there.

She could see the others talking after the doctor left; no doubt they were plotting the next way to get her away and ensure she got some sleep.

Damn that noise too, Parker growled at the oxygen and it's compressed, hissing noise that it continually made. She knew it was vital for Eliot, and it was the fact it was required in the first place that made her cross. Feeling herself grow angry, she decided it was time to calm down before the others came back in, with their next game plan no doubt. Didn't they realise that not only did she need to be here, but she wanted to be here for Eliot. She just didn't want him being alone. Nobody wanted to be alone. However, she got the feeling that Eliot Spencer had been all alone, for all his life.

Looking back down towards her friend as he lay among numerous pillows, covered only to his waist by crisp cotton sheets and a hairy woollen blanket, she couldn't help but notice how much calmer and younger Eliot seemed when he was sleeping. The nights she'd stood guard over him while he fought off his inner demons, he'd always seemed so intense, even in slumber. Here, he was at least getting some sleep, albeit medicated, but that had to be better than nothing.

She worried about his constant paleness, which was stark in contrast to all the white bedding he was ensconced in. His eyes were sunken in deep dark recesses and she was desperate to see his bright blue eyes again. Reaching over she tucked his hair back from his sweaty forehead. There were many symptoms they were watching out for, so many things that could still interfere with his recovery and although it would take a great deal of physical therapy to get Eliot's lungs back to their best functioning level – everyone was confident that would be good news to the muscular man.

A/N I promise the next chapter will be predominantly Parker and Eliot :D Can I ask - if you prefer this style, to how I've written before, please take a moment to let me know. Thank you for your continued patience.