They made their way up to the van slowly with Eliot making it there first and pulling the van door open. He then stepped inside and pulled on a pair of gloves.
Hardison and Parker was next into the vehicle, he jumping into the driver's seat and she in the passenger seat beside him. Then came Abby, followed by Sophie and a growing ever so weary Nate.
"Where are we going?" Hardison asked.
"I think we're fine to head back to Nate's," Eliot replied, gesturing Nate to sit down beside him so he could tend to his wound. The drive back to Boston from the damn was a good three hour trip and although giving someone medical attention in the back of a moving van wasn't exactly idea, it was better than the alternative of waiting until they arrived back at Nate's.
He dug a little further into the medkit and pulled out a pair of scissors which he placed on the small desk. Settling further into his seat he then pulled out another set of gloves which he tossed to Abigail. She caught them awkwardly with a look of surprise on her face.
"Can you put those on for me?" he asked, opening and closing the scissors a few times in his hands before he cut Nate's shirt of his shoulder. He pulled it away from his body slowly; the blood had made it stick uncomfortably to the wound.
"Why?" the teen asked as the rest of the crew looked at her then towards Eliot. Nate especially had a look of concern on his face.
"I figure it's probably a good idea that someone other than me knows how to do this," he said in a gravelly tone without looking up from examining the extent of the mastermind's wound. Shelley's words were still hovering in the back of his mind and he couldn't shake them out. She needed to know this, he hated it, but she needed to know it. And now, he figured, was more or less an appropriate time.
"You're sure?" she asked, fiddling with the bright blue gloves in her hands.
"Yeah," he replied, looking at her and showing her his seriousness. Hardison started the van and the vehicle began to roll away from the dam. They were all glad to be rid of it, and the job with it.
"Do I get any say in this?" Nate asked, shooting a glance down at his injury and trying to ignore Sophie's concerned stares and sighs.
"No," Eliot said harshly. "'Kay Abs, grab some gauze and put pressure on the wound. It's a through and through so you don't have to worry about trying to dig around for a bullet and causing more damage."
"How do you even know all this?" Sophie asked curiously, interrupting the flow of Eliot's clarification. Abby meanwhile pressed the gauze against Nate's skin. She was extremely tentative, scared of injuring him more but mostly unphased by the issue at hand.
"Same reason she needs to know," he replied vaguely, though it didn't really answer the question, and then continued with his explanation. "There's no artery damage 'cause it's not bleeding severly-"
"That's not severe?" she asked.
"No," Eliot shook his head, "severe is blood all over the joint. But the gauze'll be fine for this one." He pulled out a needle out of the first aid kit and proceeded to fill it with a local anaesthetic. "So this wound has an entry and exit wound, that's good but it needs stitches."
"How do you know if it needs stitches?"
"Unless it's like a pee shooter, it's gonna need stitches."
"Please tell me I get to have morphine," Nate complained.
"Does it look like I have morphine?" Eliot replied; he was still angry with Nate and the stunt he had tried to pull. He was thankful that he'd made the right choice in the end, but still very much pissed at the road he had to take to do so.
The hitter turned back to Abby. "This is a local anaesthetic," he said handing her the needle and taking over the task of applying pressure. Her eyes widened in slight horror at being given the medicine, but she didn't bother asking how they had gotten it.
"So what you want to do is put it in here, just above the wound." He pointed with his pinky as while his hands pushed down on the gauze. Nate flinched; it was slightly more painful having the large hitter who was a little angry at the man apply pressure onto the wound than a tentative teenager.
"You want me to do it?" she confirmed, her eyes widening with surprise. "You want me to stab Nate with a needle?"
"Dear God, please don't stab," the mastermind complained again.
"Yeah don't, don't stab," Eliot agreed. "Just be forceful, but gentle at the same time. Right in there," he said pointing at a spot on Nate's shoulder as well as informing Abby of the angle she was to use.
"You know that's an oxymoron yeah?" she said as she leant in and injected the needle in to the masterminds shoulder; to her delight, he didn't shriek in pain.
Eliot continued to walk her through how to clean, stitch, dress and deal with the after effects of a gun wound and then, when they were finished, how to deal with other serious injuries. The others listened intently, something for which Eliot was thankful. The more of them that knew this information, the better it would be for all of them.
Several hours later they arrived in Boston and made their way slowly up to the apartment, each exhausted in their own way. Nate limped painfully along the hall, hanging off Sophie's loving shoulder. Eliot had his arms wrapped around Abby's shoulder and her face was buried in his. Hardison followed behind with Parker, who had her hand laced around his shoulders; he was practically dragging her on her feet. When they reached the door, Hardison pulled lightly away from the thief's grip and snuck in front of the eldest pair. Knowing that neither of them could spare their hands. He held it open as they and the others clambered in, then shut the door securely behind them.
Once inside, as relaxing as it was to be home, there was little they could do to celebrate. The apartment was stripped bare; no furniture, no food. No drinks. Everything was either locked away in storage or still in the Batcave.
"What do we do now?" Parker asked innocently, sitting down on the steps and looking up at her family.
"We have to law low, and not like we laid low after Moreau," Eliot stated firmly. "We have to split up and do this properly."
"How long?" Hardison asked, taking a seat beside the thief.
"A month, maybe two. This job attracted a lot of attention," Eliot replied.
"Vacation, woo baby!" Hardison threw a tired fist bump into the air. He was excited, just too exhausted to sound it.
"So we stay out of Boston for what, six weeks?" Nate said weakly. "Then meet up and come back here."
"Wait, stay out of Boston? But I have school," Abby complained. With a large thump, she settled herself down on the floor, crossing her legs beneath her.
"You know," Sophie said. "You're the only teenager I've ever met who actually enjoys school."
"It's not that weird. Is it?"
"It's a little weird," Parker said.
"Shouldn't matter anyway Ace," Hardison began. "You're smarter than everyone else in your year."
"What? You compare her test scores or somethin'?" Eliot asked.
"Possibly," the hacker replied slyly.
"Dammit Hardison," Eliot complained, though secretly he was extremely proud of his niece.
"I think what Hardison's trying to say," Nate began. "Is that you will be more than fine missing out on a few weeks of school."
"Abs just think of it as a vacation," Eliot said as he pulled her close. "It'll be fun."
"Okay," she said uncertainly.
"So this is it then?" Sophie said. "Six weeks."
"I guess so," Parker stated.
They lingered in silence for a moment as the thought past through each of their heads that they may not see each other again; that this may have been the last job they'll ever pull together.
"We should celebrate," Abby suggested.
"Oh?" Hardison enquired.
"Yeah, this was a job well done. We should celebrate, order some pizza and just..."
"Celebrate," Sophie concluded. "I think we should!"
"I could go for pizza," Parker agreed and, within minutes they were sitting on the floor of Nate's empty apartment laughing, talking and celebrating; perfectly happy with each other's company.
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yeah, so, long break, dealing with some stuff but I'm keen to get back into writing again!
Thanks as always xx