a/n: fanfiction keeps taking out all my italics when I copy/paste here, so this is currently missing all the italics. I will go back in and edit them back in when I have the time!

~cosette141

Parker stirred.

Someone was shaking her shoulder gently, tearing her from a heavy sleep. She blinked her eyes open. It was still dark, but she was warm. Surprisingly warm, for how cold she remembered being. Still slightly caught in sleep, she snuggled closer to whatever pillow she was lying on and couldn't remember the last time she'd been this comfortable.

"Parker…"

She slowly opened her eyes to see Eliot looking down at her. Oh… right. Memories dawned instantly. She looked around, but the forest was still black with night. It must have only been a few hours.

"Your turn?" she mumbled sleepily, and he grinned at her.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "My turn."

Parker quickly realized that her fingers held fistfuls of his shirt. She didn't remember doing that. She closed her eyes briefly again and mumbled, "You're comfy."

A soft laugh rumbled low in his chest. Despite the danger and the fear that still plagued her, Parker had never felt as safe she did right now.

She started to push herself up, but Eliot held her in place. "You don't have to move," he said gently. "As long as you're not gonna fall asleep again, you can stay put."

Parker smiled in relief and laid back against him. It was still cold and their closeness was incredibly warm. "I won't sleep." She rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes, already feeling better. More awake, more alert. She looked up at him.

Eliot looked exhausted. He was looking tiredly back at her, but she could tell he was struggling to keep his eyes open. She stared at him for a moment, studying him. She'd never seen Eliot look tired before. He was their invincible guardian. But now… he didn't look invincible. He looked like he was going to pass out.

Feeling him shiver the smallest bit, Parker blinked up at him. "Do you want your jacket back?"

Eliot shook his head as he shifted slightly against the trunk of the tree, seeming to be trying to get comfortable. "Nah, darlin. You keep that." He shifted again, then pulled something out from behind him. Hardly able to make it out in the darkness, Parker realized he was holding a gun. He held it out for her. "Take this."

Parker took it, meeting his tired gaze as she did. The metal was cold against her already chilled fingers. She was no stranger to the weapon; she'd carried on jobs before. Though, aside from causing a few minor-or major-injuries, she'd never killed anyone before. But seeing the dark, almost sad look in his eyes, she nodded a fraction. We do what the others can't.

He finally settled against the tree, and then looked back down at her. He looked like he was trying his very best effort not to fall asleep right then. "I need at least an hour of sleep. Can't function without it," he growled half-heartedly. "But if you hear or see anything-and I mean anything, Parker-you need to wake me up."

"Gotcha," she said, nodding. Her fingers tightened around the gun. "Anything."

"I don't even care if it's a damned rabbit," he said. "You wake me up."

"I will."

"It should be sunrise in about four hours," he said, tiredly looking at the sky. "As soon as you see light, wake me." Eliot let out a breath. He adjusted his grip on her and leaned his head back. He looked back at her again, almost as if making sure she was still there. Then, he shut his eyes and rested his head on the bark.

"Sleep tight, Sparky," she whispered, but she doubted he heard her. His breathing slowed a bit down and his head tilted the slightest bit, now resting on hers. She glanced at him with curiosity. She'd never seen Eliot sleep before. He seemed so much nicer when he was asleep. No growling, glaring, threatening to "kill them all" or whatever. Her smile faltered at that and she frowned.

She didn't like this Eliot after all. No fun.

But she also knew she'd never seen him sleep before, but had seen everyone else. Hardison fell asleep at his keyboard all the time. Nate took naps, and half the time the team showed up at his apartment he hadn't even woken up yet. Okay-when Parker showed up, several hours early on a few occasions. (No one else thought to get a head start at 3am?) Even Sophie slept around them when they pulled all nighters, for her "beauty." Parker frowned at the air, remembering it. She still didn't understand how that worked.

Her eyes, again, fixed on the black forest. The gun still rested in her hand, her finger a split-second's notice away from the trigger. A slight gust of wind rustled the leaves on several trees and Parker flinched, her finger shifting on the cold metal. She glanced briefly back at Eliot, wondering if he'd felt her flinch and woken up, but he was still out.

She wondered when the last time he'd slept was. She remembered overhearing Eliot telling Sophie that he always got ninety minutes of sleep a night, but the team's been separated for three nights already and Eliot'd been out here, on his own for two of them.

Parker turned her eyes back to the blackened surroundings. She was definitely not waking him after only ninety minutes, that's for sure. She suddenly wondered how long it took for the beauty to kick in.

The wind that suddenly started up brought cold and Parker snuggled herself up into Eliot's jacket. Her back pressed lightly into Eliot, his warmth. She can't remember any other time Eliot had touched her like this. Held her. She liked it. He wasn't the violent, grumbly protector in this moment. Right now, he was just an exhausted man, and he was relying on her to keep him safe. Them safe.

Parker adjusted her grip on the gun. She would keep him safe.

No matter the cost.

The sky was finally light again, the dawn erasing the inky blackness from the horizon. Parker blinked, not tired in the least.

Eliot was still sleeping, his head now fallen beside hers, onto her shoulder. His one arm was still around her, fingers clasped around her shoulder. The dawn had brought warmth to the air and Parker was thankful. His jacket was warmer than her t-shirt, but last night was still freezing.

Remembering the retrieval specialist's instructions to wake him at the light, Parker turned in his grasp and lifted a finger to poke him in the cheek. The moment her finger touched his face, her wrist was snatched in a crushing grip, pulling a gasp from her chest. Eliot's eyes flew open. He jerked his head off her shoulder, his hand around her other shoulder tightening almost painfully. She winced, saying more than feeling, "Ow..."

Eliot looked at her, and realization dawning, he released her at once. "Parker," he said, but she wasn't sure if he said it to her or to remind himself. "Sorry," he added gruffly.

Her heart was still beating fast, not quite over the shock of being grabbed so quickly. She shook it off, massaging her wrist a little. "Sleep well?" she asked, sitting up.

"Enough," he huffed. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, which, Parker noted, had seen better days. It was messier than usual, and she was pretty sure his knots had knots. She slowly reached a hand up to her own, realizing her own was in a similar condition. She frowned. When she saw Sophie again, she'd have to ask how much more sleep they needed to make it prettier.

"Anything happen?" asked Eliot.

Parker shook her head. "Not even a rabbit."

Eliot nodded his head, seemingly to himself. "Good."

Parker's stomach let out a particularly loud growl, and she pouted. "I'm hungry."

Eliot frowned at her. "I know. I am, too." He slowly pulled himself to his feet, stopping halfway to wince. Parker understood; broken ribs, especially stiff after sleep, were no picnic.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"Now," said Eliot hollowly, resuming his ascent to his full height, one hand on his ribs. "We find food."

Eliot offered her a hand and she took it, allowing him to help her up. She unbuttoned the jacket, its warmth not as necessary now, but she kept it on.

"And what after that?" she asked tentatively, secretly thankful she didn't have to come up with a plan all on her own anymore.

"After that," said Eliot. "We find Hardison."

Hardison was shivering.

It was freezing. He'd been thrown into this room, what seemed like a lifetime ago. He wasn't even sure if he was trembling from the temperature or his own fear. The fear—no, make that terror —that was all but consuming him.

The room was small. Maybe 6x6 with only one window, placed near the ceiling, impacted into the cement. There were bars on it, separated by mere inches. And fresh— cold— air was filtering in. The walls were stained with grime and something dark and dare he think red which made him curl back into the corner of the room, sitting on the disgusting cot and made his handcuffs jingle around his wrists.

And that wasn't the worst of it.

His comms were gone.

Blearily, Hardison remembered the con going wrong, remembering getting tackled to the ground and hit across the left side of his head. This was not a test he'd run his comms through to ensure they could withstand such a motion. Though he was sure Eliot would have been a happy volunteer to run such a test.

His comms were probably somewhere in that parking lot, to be lost and forgotten forever.

And that felt too much like what could be his own future.

Trying to keep his panic down, for he was now entirely alone and cut off from the real and virtual world, Hardison tried to focus on the cell. He needed to get out of here.

Contrary to popular belief, Hardison had never been arrested before. Never seen the inside of a prison while wearing orange. A cop had never even looked at him a strange way. And for him to finally be here, locked up, in the very scenery used as the set of his nightmares was almost too much to bear. No, it was too much to bear. And he knew that if they had fed him any time in the past 24 hours he would not have been able to keep it down.

It wasn't just that he was in prison. It wasn't just that it was cold. It wasn't just that he was claustrophobic.

He was alone.

Alec Hardison hasn't been alone in three years. And three years out of twenty five doesn't sound like a lot, but the time he'd spent with the team… as part of the team… felt like a lifetime. His lifetime. It was crazy how quickly it became normal. Normal to rely on someone else. Have them rely on him. Have someone to look out for, and… Parker's face flashed to his mind and Hardison's throat hurt.

And care for.

"Guys?" Hardison croaked, at less than a whisper, only to remember his comms were gone. He sighed. Even hearing Eliot's "dammit, Hardison!" would be music to his ears.

But the only sounds that greeted him were silence.

"Okay," he said aloud to himself, shaking his head as if to shake off the build up of fear and paralysis inside him. Suddenly, Parker's voice cut through his mind like glass.

"Tune out the distractions and focus on the problem."

Hardison opened his eyes and smiled a little. Parker. She was right. If he was going to get out of here and find his fam—his team, then he was going to have to stop freaking out.

But where was the rest of the team? Was he the only one who had been caught? Were they both free, running? Laying low? Were they captured? They weren't here with him, he would have been able to contact them if they were within the limits of the comms' reach. But even if they were they could be unable to respond because they were… were…

Hardison rubbed his face. He was shaking harder. He lightly slapped himself on the cheek. "Focus. Focus on the problem."

"You keep me focused, man," Hardison had told that to Nate, when the four of them were trying to convince Nate to do another job. And it was true. Nate had kept him focused. Grounded. Nate would be able to do that if he were here. Nate would be able to tell Hardison to stop. To focus. Eliot would growl and tell him to be brave and step up. Sophie would tell him he didn't have to be so damn afraid.

But he was.

Hardison pushed himself off the cot and to his feet. Sitting there, stewing in his thoughts would not help him get out of here. His friends were alive. They were. If Hardison was going to get out of here, he couldn't believe anything short of that.

"Tune out the distractions."

Hardison let out a long breath through his nose.

"Focus on the problem."

He opened his eyes. Locked in a room. Manual lock. Opens and closes from the outside. Window with bars. Everything else cement. No computers to hack. No wires. No cables. No nothing.

His panic snuck back.

He pushed it away. He might be a hacker, but spending time with a thief, a grifter, a hitter and a mastermind have given him a bit wider range of skills. As long as he didn't have to use an accent or rappel, he should be fine.

First, get out of here. And then?

Then, he was going to find his family.

The granola bar on one of the dead guards wasn't enough for the both of them so Eliot had to give Parker a crash course in scavenging food.

It was a long hour of, "Parker, don't eat that," and, "Parker, I just said don't eat that!" but sure enough Eliot had managed to find them both a handful of berries that were edible and at least satisfied their stomachs for the time being.

Water was a problem all on its own, because neither of them had had much of it at all the past two days. Parker hadn't been given food or water in her short captivity. But the berries were rich with juice and though it didn't quite satisfy the yearning thirst it was something and Eliot would take it. Morning didn't bring enough of the dew Eliot expected, so they were going to have to find a river or a way out of this damned forest one way or another if they wanted to survive the week.

Parker popped the last berry into her mouth and looked at him from where she was sitting against the base of the tree. "What now?"

Eliot was standing still, scanning the trees, trying to figure out just that.

"I'm still hungry," said Parker in a slight whine.

"I know, darlin'."

"Maybe we can go back to the place they took me. I can raid the kitchen even before they notice."

Eliot rubbed his eyes. "Parker, you don't walk straight back into a prison just for a snack." How she's survived as long as she has Eliot would never understand. He was grateful for it, but would never understand.

She shrugged. "I'm just saying."

Eliot sighed. "Well, let's just get out of this place." He glared at the trees surrounding them. "I'm startin' ta hate this forest."

He and Parker started off, their footsteps the only sound for the next while. Parker was still wearing his jacket and he could see the shape of the handgun in one of the pockets. He was glad. He wouldn't necessarily need the weapon—his fists have always served him just fine—but he was glad they had it. At least for Parker. He felt better knowing she had some sort of protection in case something were to happen to him.

His inner compass was leading the two of them now. He usually trusted it to hell and back but now he wasn't as sure. He's been stuck here for too long and hadn't been paying enough attention when he first started running through it after he freed himself. If he had been he might have been able to figure out some idea of direction. But now? Any way could be the way out, and any way could just lead them deeper and deeper into this vast woodland.

But he had Parker now. He looked at her as she walked beside him. He smiled a little to himself. That made all the difference to him in the world.

All he knew was where Parker had come from. That was about all he had to go on. She had an idea of where she left her captivity behind and he knew where the dead guards had been coming from. Now, he was heading in the opposite direction. At least they knew they weren't walking into more trouble.

"It's kinda weird, isn't it?"

Eliot blinked. He shook himself free of the thoughts and looked over at Parker, who was still beside him, her hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. "What's weird?" asked Eliot.

"That we were both stranded in the same forest. Kinda weird."

She didn't elaborate, just kept walking with a slightly thoughtful look on her face.

But Eliot stopped walking.

Parker was wrong.

It wasn't weird.

It wasn't weird at all.

It suddenly made sense.

"Parker," said Eliot.

She hadn't noticed him stop and she turned around, surprised to see him ten feet behind her. "What?"

"When you escaped, did you see if there were other cells where you were held?"

Parker nodded. "Yeah, a bunch. I didn't stop to look in any of them, though—"

Eliot ran a hand through his hair, stumbling back a step. Earlier, he'd wondered where he was being taken. He'd assumed some prison or worse. But Parker made a good point; why did they find themselves in the same forest?

She'd been held captive here.

He was on his way to some captivity.

They were going to take him to the same place they took her.

"Why are you glaring at that tree?"

"Parker," said Eliot again. "That place you were held—that's where I was supposed to be taken, too."

Parker narrowed her eyes at that. "It was?"

"I was being taken somewhere," he went on, talking faster as it made more and more sense, "but I got out and ran in here. They were taking me to the same place."

"So…" Parker trailed off, obviously not seeing the significance of Eliot's realization.

Eliot sighed shortly at having to spell it out, "If you were held there and I was going to be held there, there's a chance that—"

Parker's eyes widened. "Hardison!"

Eliot nodded. "Yeah. There's a real good chance he's being held in the same place."

They both stood in the middle of the trees, eyes locked as they silently let it sink in. And… let what it meant sink in, as well.

"We have to go back." said Parker quietly, matter-of-factly.

Eliot set his lips into a firm line. The surge of hope that it brought, knowing where the rest of the team most likely was, dissipated the more he thought about it. Because going back there meant putting Parker right back in the danger she just escaped from.

"Let's have fun with this one first."

His blood burned as the guard's words snuck in the back of his mind. His fist curled at his side. They weren't good people and they wouldn't shy from hurting Parker even if their orders were to keep her alive. Whoever's orders. But that was a question for later. Now, he needed to protect his team. His family.

He briefly entertained the idea of leaving Parker here and going back himself, but he dismissed it almost immediately. He had no idea how many more people were out here searching for her, and hadn't even thought if people were somewhere searching for him, too. If she was out here, alone, and something happened to her…

Eliot let out a breath through his nose, trying to stem the panic. Eliot Spencer did not panic. He was losing it.

Bringing her with him didn't feel any better than leaving her did. Even if he had the peace of mind that she was right at his side and under his protection, he couldn't guarantee it would stay that way. If there were more guards than he expected, if he got shot, if he was killed...

They had to go back. Hardison was there. He could feel it.

He gave the trees a stern glare. There was no other choice; walking around aimlessly wasn't getting them anywhere anyway. They really had no other choice.