The Everlasting #11
Title: The Everlasting
Rating: R
Spoilers: Up through end of season 2
Pairing: Alec Hardison/ Eliot Spencer
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: It's not really the end of the world, it just looks that way.
A/N: FINALLY wrapping this up. Though there will be an epilogue.
Story starts here
Eliot knew, even before he came to, that he was strapped to a chair. A shift of the arms, though, proved that his hands were free, unbound. It would have warned his captors, so he didn't grin at the discovery.
What kind of idiot-
The floor dipped dangerously beneath him, he could feel himself falling, and his eyes shot open. In front of him was a pilot. In front of the pilot were controls and the sky.
It took a moment to make any sense.
Right. Helicopter. What-
Alec. He turned his head sharply enough to waken the headache that had been lying in wait, needing to see.
Alec's legs were tied down to the stretcher. More than that, Eliot couldn't see. Three medics were working on him. He wanted to ask, get a status report or something, but even confused as he was, he knew this scene. Distracting them wasn't the best plan.
There was a cough to his left, and when he looked, Nate was seated next to him. He was sweating, nervous as he fiddled with the seal of the bottle in his hands. "You're dehydrated, El." Finally, he got it open and held it out. "They say it tastes like Gatorade, only worse, but it gets the job done."
"Thanks," Eliot said, grabbing the bottle. Alec's bleeding out and Nate's handing me kool-aid. Eliot drank some down. Nate wasn't lying about the taste. "How's he doing?"
"I, ah. I don't know." Nate rubbed at his neck and glanced over his shoulder to check. "But they're doing what they can."
Eliot forced himself to nod. It was what he was expecting, and it wasn't the worst answer his question could've received. "How long was I out? And where the hell are we going?"
"About a minute. Just enough time that it was a total pain in the ass loading you in here. We're on course for the Ark Royal."
"What the hell's that?"
"That" Nate smirked, pointing out the windshield, and up ahead, Eliot could see the lights below, a city's worth of light, swimming up out of the darkness.
No. Not a city.
They were heading for a ship.
"An aircraft carrier?" He tore his eyes away, scowled at Nate, and looked again. "Really?"
---
The helicopter began to make its descent, and Eliot moved on. "Where are we?"
"Just outside Pleasure Bay," Nate shrugged. "Long story, I'll tell you after you've been checked out."
"I'm fine."
"Then it won't take the doctors long, will it?" Nate smirked, but his heart wasn't in it. "Still have work to do."
Eliot had forgotten about the fighting that was probably still happening, down in the city. The people at the garage. What Nate was even doing sitting here, he couldn't guess.
But he was sort of glad he was.
---
On the ground, well, on the ship, things sped up again. Stairs going down and a hallway and then a huge room full of cots and patients and rushing nurses. Stethoscopes and thermometers and blood pressure cuffs and lights in his eyes, and finally they were able to tell him that he was exhausted. Needed to rest, needed to eat, needed to re-hydrate.
No shit.
What he needed, though, what he really needed was to know if Alec was still alive, but the nurses hadn't been much help. "He's going to be in surgery for at least a few hours," one said, glancing back towards the operating room doors as she checked the connections for Eliot's IV.
Scratch that. Right now, Eliot needed a target.
---
"No, Eliot. No freakin' way.” Nate was dead set against it. “Sophie and Parker are still in play. You go out there right now, in the state you're in, and you're going to get them killed, if you even make it that far. So sit your ass down. Get some rest. I have to get back."
“What, so this is your fight now?” Eliot glared at Nate, knowing full well that the IV drip stand at his elbow probably wasn't helping his case, but trying anyway.
“Seriously? Is that what this is about?" Nate rolled his eyes. "We’ve got about two hundred scared, injured people up top. Some of them were fighting on opposite sides an hour ago. One of two things is about to happen. Either a massive celebration, or-”
“Lynch mob.” He'd seen it before. Not wanting to see Nate's voice, in case he confirmed, Eliot looked down at the needle taped into his arm. “So what, we just sit here and wait for someone to do something stupid?”
“Ah, no. You just sit here, while I go up top do something stupid.”
“They don’t know you,” Eliot dragged himself to his feet and dropped his tone. “I can help. I know more of them than you do. And also? This ain’t my first rodeo. You’re sitting here talking about riots breaking out? I’ve started three, derailed seven, and stopped two outright. Any more bad guys need to be cleaned out, I'm the one for the job.”
“I know." Nate's eyes were suddenly everywhere but Eliot, but his tone was apologetic. "And that's exactly why you can't be up there right now. So. Ah. Just try and get some rest, yeah?"
---
Nobody down here seemed to know anything. The nurses couldn't tell him about Alec, the guards couldn't tell him about Nate.
Eliot had never thought of himself as being particularly patient, but this was worse. Nate wasn't back yet, Sophie and Parker were still out in the field, and Hardison was-
Alec was fine.
---
It wasn't just the IV line that was keeping him tied to the cot, and it wasn't the guards who were patrolling the ward. It was the knowledge that whichever path he chose, whether it was to jump ship and find Sophie and Parker, or try to give Nate some backup, or burst into the operating room, his presence would only make things worse.
The operating room doors flashed open for only a second. He could see the back of one of the doctors, the ties of his surgical scrubs, but it told him nothing.
It means there's still hope. That's not nothing, he told himself, too tired to believe it fully.
---
More people were filling the cots, now, too many for him to track.
Judging by the saline drip, Eliot had been waiting for a little over an hour, riding alternating waves of worry, confusion, and dizziness when he heard the ship's broadcast system buzz to life.
It was Nate's voice that spoke, and he sounded irritated, more than anything.
“Okay, look. All of you. What you’ve heard is true. Cornelius has been taken out of the game. Right now, there are soldiers working to make sure that his entire system goes down with him. Which means we've all won. But that. None of this matters if you're not going to do better than he did. And this, here, is your first chance."
Eliot wasn't familiar enough with ships to know if Nate intended his words to reach everyone on board, or if he only meant to address the people gathered up top.
It could've been a call for backup.
Eliot stood up and pulled the needle from his arm, because really? He hadn't needed it in the first place. It seemed, though, that the infirmary guards were ready for their charges to attempt to escape.
Nate's, though, continued. His voice, more than anything, more than the guards, was what led Eliot back to the bed. He'd let them overpower him, manhandle him back into the cot, and get a nurse to prep a new needle for the drip bag.
Because Nate was still talking, and his tone was unafraid. It had nothing to do with the fact that Eliot's vision had swam when he'd stood, that his attempt to escape had been weak, uncoordinated.
"You know that Cornelius worked through threats and intimidation. Some of you, he stole from. Some of you, he had beat and raped. He threatened your families. Some of you ran, hid. Some of you stole from your neighbors, and some of you went to work for him. All of you did what you had to do to survive."
There was a roar of angry voices coming from the deck, and Eliot tensed.
Nate wasn't placating them, he was pushing their buttons.
Any minute now, Nate would need him., but he'd already blown it. The guards-and half of the other patients- were watching him intently now. One of the guards had done him the kindness of directing his attention towards the restraints on the bed, and looked him in the eye, meaningfully. Your choice, is what he'd meant.
Somewhere, Eliot could hear crying, sharper and louder than the rest of the people.
"People, please," Nate continued, once he'd let the noise crest. "This isn't a clean slate. I'm not naïve enough to ask you to forgive one another. I'm just telling you that Cornelius' way of doing business is no longer an option. All you need to do is remember who you were a year ago. Last summer, if a crime was committed, you would put the accused on trial. You would not execute them in cold blood."
The OR door opened again, and Eliot forgot to breathe. A nurse came out with a smile on her face, but she wasn't crossing the room towards him, she was heading towards a row of chairs, filled with people who seemed to be waiting.
He had to crane his neck to look, but he noticed Jay sitting there in one of the plastic chairs, looking back up at her hopefully.
"The mother is safe, and so are the twins. Congratulations!"
"I'm not the father," Jay said, but his grin was wide anyway.
The good news hadn't been for Eliot.
He looked away and tried to ignore his own attempts to warn himself off hope. Tried to focus, again, on what Nate was saying.
In the next cot over, the woman with the wrapped ankle seemed to be having a better time of it, her eyes glancing from the speakers to Eliot, and back again. He was part of her scenery, nothing more. Like everyone down here, she had her own problems.
Eliot thought about screaming. Venting it all out. Everyone would hear him, stare. Everyone but the four people he actually gave a damn about.
Focus
"So here's the carrot. This ship is stocked with enough supplies to keep you going for a little while, and people who volunteered to come out to try and help. Here's the stick. Winter's coming, and there are a lot of cities hurting right now. Plenty of other ports, and frankly, the people funding these relief efforts are going to want to see that they're doing some good. You're going to need more help over the next few months, and part of that help is going to have to come from all of you. So. To sum up, you people need each other more than you ever had or ever will again. Don't screw it up."
The radio cut out, but Eliot could hear the noise surging from up top. Some shouting, but it was quickly buried by the humming of two hundred talking voices.
Half of them, Eliot guessed, were thinking of ways to get back at Nate for being such a jackass.
None of them, up there, were talking about Alec. They were all worried, but not about Alec. They had no reason to be. They had their own problems.
Eliot hated them all, just for existing. The fact that he knew how irrational it was didn't help at all.
---
Nate knew exactly what Eliot's glare meant, when he came back down. "What, you think puppies and flowers would've worked better?"
"So instead, your solution was to get everyone in earshot pissed off at you."
"Yeah. Inelegant, but hey, it's a unifying force if ever there was one," Nate shrugged, glancing uncomfortably towards the door of the operating room. "How's he doing?"
"I don't know," Eliot admitted, again swallowing the panic, but even to his own ears, some of it came through. "Nobody's come out yet. I don't know if that's…"
Nate knocked his fist against the foot of the bed. "I'll go check."
---
He was gone for a very long time. When he came back, his first words were "Eliot, I'm sorry."
Whatever he said next, Eliot couldn't hear. He refused to. Looked instead at the speaker by the ceiling, thinking that Nate should be talking through that, instead. Pissing people off, instead of breakin' his fucking heart.
Not fully aware that he was doing it, Eliot stood, again ripping the needle from his arm and heading towards the operating room, until Nate caught him by his elbow and dug his thumb in, hard over the puncture.
"Shit." Jerking him back to look at his face, Nate continued, shaking his head. "No, you idiot. I meant I was sorry it took so long. The doctors were busy. He's gonna be fine."
"What?"
"They're stitching him up right now. He's already breathing on his own again." He belatedly realized that Eliot had stopped moving, loosening his grip but not releasing him. "Yeah. Ah. Hmm."
Eliot, for his part, wasn't really tracking much of anything. "He's okay?" It didn't sound right. Not real.
"So far, yeah. They're going to move him in a while, but-" Nate looked up when one of the nurses appeared at his side. On the other side, one of the guards from earlier was flanking his position. Nate pretended not to notice him. "Okay, look. How about we, ah." He shook his head. "Tell you what. You let the professionals put the line back in. Then we'll go…hang out in the waiting area, you can see him when they move him to recovery, okay?"
Eliot didn't notice until he looked up that Nate was asking the nurse, not him, but it was the best thing on offer.
"Fine."
"Okay. Third time's the charm," the nurse said, and Eliot ducked Nate's glance. "Leave it in this time, all right?"
---
Once the line was re-inserted, Eliot had to deal with another doctor and another round of flashlights in the eyes, but then Nate was there again, steadying the IV rack as Eliot stood. Instead of leading him towards the waiting area, though, Nate steered him past it.
"Okay. Here's the deal. The nurses and guards in here are about as sick of you are you are of them, they're willing to transfer you to the room that Alec's recovering in for the night. As long as you eat something, and try to get some sleep, they'll probably release you in the morning."
Eliot hadn't realized that the operating room was in the middle of the ship. Beyond it was a metal wall, a wide door, and another cavernous area that looked much like the first, but darker. The overhead lights were dim, and most of the available light came from the thin fluorescent fixtures attached to the walls of the cubicles they passed.
The lights and the cubicles weren't the only difference. There were full hospital beds, here, more substantial and permanent than the cots lined up on the other side. Some of them had machines surrounding them. Some were blocked off by heavy curtains.
Eliot told himself that the curtains had some muffling properties, and that's why most of the beds were quiet.
Nate was checking the numbers of each cube they passed, and stopped at number 35. "This is you," he said, gesturing inside to the cot someone had crammed in there, next to the bed. "Ain't the Hilton, and I hope you're not too particular about beds-"
Eliot laughed, at that, and sat down on the cot.
"How long's he gonna be?"
"Not long," Nate glanced down at his phone, frowning. "Okay, look. It's late. I'll be back to check in as soon as I can, but I'm not getting a signal down here, and it's almost time for me to check in with Parker."
"Where is she?"
"If she's not cleaning out Cornelius' office, she's getting off the ship."
"And Sophie?"
"She's leading Cornelius and his most trusted people up into Cambridge." He nodded as Eliot lay back in the cot. "That's the blow-off."
"What the hell kind of job is she blowing off, exactly?
Nate opened his mouth to answer, but there were wheels rolling by, and an instant later, Alec's unconscious- only unconscious- body was being transferred to the bed. Nate watched, for a moment, clearly not enjoying the view, before tipping his head in Eliot's direction and walking away.
Whatever Nate had been about to say could wait.
---
Historically speaking, most of Eliot's injuries had been of a sort best handled in the field, or in a hotel room bathroom, away from the prying eyes of, well, anyone, but it didn't mean he didn't know a crash monitor when he saw one. The transfusion bag hanging from the rack was likewise self-explanatory.
Alec wasn't on oxygen, which was a relief. It meant two things. One, Alec was breathing of his own volition. Two, Eliot could see his face, no problem.
He could see a lot more than that, too. Alec's chest was bare, the bright swaths of bandages glaring against his skin. Eliot wondered if Alec felt the cold, or if he was too far under to notice.
If he was a better guy, he'd probably get up, pull the sheets up a little higher, but then Eliot wouldn't be able to watch him breathing. It didn't matter if he was being monitored. It was hard enough, seeing in the near dark. He didn't need anything getting in the way.
---
"I can leave the curtain shut, leave the light on while you eat," the nurse offered, her hand already on the frame she'd pulled around, once Eliot's arm was free of the IV line.
"Nah," Eliot said. "Shut 'em off and open it."
---
Dinner was horrible, awful hospital stuff.
He kind of wanted to wake Alec up, just to rave about the chicken.
---
At some point, Eliot slept, if fitfully. Didn't matter, though. He'd been staring at Alec so long that the image was burned into his dreams.
---
The ground was rocking. Alec wondered if this was the prelude, or merely an aftershock. If the world had ended while he'd…what.. Slept?
He opened his eyes to find a light overhead, too dim to do much good, but enough that he could see that he was in a hospital bed.
That movie. 28 Days Later. Jim wakes up and there's nobody, it's already too late, they're all gone, and-
Chill, man.
The end came a while back. You were there for it.
It didn't mean this was making any sense.
Why the hell is the floor moving?
Painkillers, probably.
Which meant there'd been someone there to give him painkillers. Didn't make sense, not really. Cornelius didn't seem the sort.
But, okay. Cool. We're in business.
Alec's head wasn't so sure, though. Even turning it made the floor move again, and he could still feel the shift in gravity through his entire body. A ship. This must be Cornelius' place.
He could think about it later, though, since it looked like there was going to be a later, at least for a little while.
And Eliot was lying right there.
The portion of his face not blocked by the crook of his elbow was hidden behind his hair. He was lying on his side, and now that Alec had his bearings about him a little bit more, he could hear him breathing.
You got me out. Don't know how, but…
Alec coughed, quietly, testing, because maybe Eliot was only pretending, getting ready to fake out their captors, but he didn't wake.
He wished he would, though, because there were footsteps coming, and Eliot had managed to get him here, wherever here was, and from the looks of things, Alec Hardison was counting himself among the living, but that didn't mean shit, not really.
As the curtain was drawn aside, Alec's hand passed over the bandages on his chest, and he was about to ask why they'd bothered fixing him up if they were just here to kill him, but the nurse was smiling at him. Looked honestly happy to see him.
It was all a little bit strange.
---
The doctor was heading back to pick up the results of some test or another, but the nurse was still standing outside. They'd pulled a curtain out from the wall, so Alec couldn't see Eliot, but he could hear his voice. He sounded concerned, but not angry. That was good. No sense attacking the doctors. Alec wasn't sure, but he probably needed them, for a while yet.
He fell asleep before it even occurred to him to try and speak.
---
The next time he woke up, it was because his side hurt, bad, and he was clenching his teeth against the pain too tightly to call out. Opening his eyes seemed like a wasted effort, right up until he heard it.
"Alec. Hey. Doctor's on her way."
Eliot's voice. Maybe the effort wouldn't be a total waste.
The lights were on, now, and Eliot was sitting next to the bed, his head propped up on one hand.
His eyes crinkled when he smiled.
"Asshole," Alec joked. "Smiling like that when I'm lying here dying."
The crinkles went away, fast. "Don't." Eliot picked up his wrist, prying his arm away from his stomach.
There was no way Eliot didn't notice the wince when it came.
"Hey, gonna get some more painkillers in you, okay?" he said, and there was a pause, there, where it seemed like he was winding up to say something else, but then his jaw tightened around a thin smile. "Probably gonna knock you out again."
"How long-"
"Shh," Eliot released his hold and backed away, looking to his left.
"Okay, here we go," a woman's voice answered, and there was movement on the other side of Alec's bed. "We're putting you on the good stuff, now that we know you can handle it."
Alec nodded, and within a few minutes, the pain had receded into a dull ache.
"El, I'm tired, man. Gonna pass out again, but. When I wake up again, you'd better be sitting right there, ready to tell me what the hell is going on, okay?"
"I'll try and have it figured out by then," Eliot snorted, but reached out, again, brushing against the bandages. Alec tried to catch his hand, but he was too slow.
---
It was the middle of the night when he heard Eliot's voice, quiet enough that if he'd been sleeping, it wouldn't have woken him. "Dammit, Hardison. Why didn't you leave town, get out of here when the getting was good?"
He knew that Eliot was mostly talking to himself, and that chafed, more than anything. He gave it some thought, though, and then opened his eyes. "Someone had to keep things going."
"Things."
It sucked, that he had to even explain it, after all this.
"The mail. Parker needed help getting power going in the school. Trying to get supplies through to the doctors, when we still had them." Alec's nostrils flared; he was dangerously close to fully waking. "You know all this, man. Shit."
"Yeah," was all Eliot said in response.
---
In return for a promise that he'd be quick, that he wouldn't strain himself, it hadn't been too hard to convince the nurse to arrange for a change of clean clothes. Now that he was sure Alec safe and sleeping, there was no reason not to avail himself of a chance to finally wash away the night.
The showers were empty, but still damp, recently used. Near the door there were racks filled with soap and shampoo, rough towels and washcloths. He stripped down and threw his dirty clothes into the half-full hamper waiting there.
He wondered if the clothes were going to be washed, or burned.
As expected, the water pressure sucked, but it was almost warm, and it was working, and it wasn't like he was planning on loitering in here anyway. He had to get back, wait to hear from Nate, wait for Alec to wake up again. Preferably in that order.
Otherwise, all he'd be able to tell Alec was what Nate had told him, unless he wanted to be a little too honest and try explaining what it had felt like to wake at three in the morning and stare until five, because he hadn't been entirely sure Alec was even breathing.
He had been, though. Worst yet, he'd been awake and listening, heard Eliot say some things that made sense in the middle of the night and just looked shitty during the day.
And if Eliot wasn't going to talk about that, either, there was no way he was going to bring up what it had been like staring at the doors of an operating room, trying to hold on to hope.
He shut the shower off and dried off, wrapping a towel around his waist before coming around the corner to get dressed.
He wasn't ready to get tackled, not really. It came from behind.
---
Dammit, Parker! I'm, like, practically naked here!"
"And hardly a scratch on you," she grinned, pulling away. "Hardison's sleeping, and the nurse said you were in here."
"Ah. Yeah?" Eliot rolled his eyes. "You couldn't have just waited back in the cube?"
"Tried, but..." Hearing the echo off the tiles, Parker dropped her eyes, her voice going quiet. "He looked… is he okay?"
"Yeah. Two bullet holes in him, but he's gonna be fine." Eliot gestured towards his clothes. "You mind?"
"No."
"I mean-" but Parker was already turning her back. "Yeah, you should really hurry up. Nate and Sophie will be down here in about ten minutes."
"What?" Eliot tossed the towel aside and hurried to dress himself before she forgot why she was watching the hamper.
"They're up top, talking with the captain about how they're going to handle the prisoner."
"The prisoner?" The shirt was the biggest pain to get on, sticking to his still damp skin as he tried to pull it over his head.
"Cornelius. They've got him locked in the brig. I think Sophie's trying to convince everyone to make him walk the plank."
"Don't think they do that anymore," he muttered, scrubbing at his hair, and grabbing a comb out of the box. His head was starting to pound again.
---
Eliot sat on the edge of the bed and shook Alec's shoulder, slightly.
"Hey, man. Wake up."
"Hm?" Alec scowled before blearily glaring up a him. Even annoyed, his eyes were gorgeous.
Too busy thinking that ten hours ago, there'd been a very good chance he'd never see them open and aware, ever again, Eliot forgot what he'd meant to say. Just stared back, his hand wrapped- too tightly, it turned out- around Alec's shoulder.
When it got too much, Alec caught his hand, began pressing circles into his palm. He was working his jaw like he was about to say something, but Eliot remembered, then, and nodded back towards the foot of the bed
If he was a little irritated by the grin that Parker's presence caused, or the tightness of Alec's arms around Parker's shoulders, he shoved it down. It wasn't like he was the only one allowed to give a damn.
---
Parker's fine. Eliot's fine, was really all that mattered, yeah, but it didn't mean any of this was making sense.
"So what the hell?" he asked, as Parker stood up again, exchanging a glance with Eliot, which he dropped first. It didn't look like either of them knew where to start.
"Okay, fine. Something easier. Where the hell are we, and how did we get here? In whichever order you'd like." Go figure. He had to be sitting here, trying to get information out of two of the least talkative people he'd ever met in his entire life.
I wish Nate was here.
"Hardison. Eliot. Parker," Nate stepped up to the foot of the bed. "Gang's all here."
He was pretty sure he'd never admit that his next thought, in all honesty, was holy shit, I have the Force, but then he caught sight of long dark hair sliding in behind Nate. Sophie, stalking over to Eliot and wrapping her arms around him, tight.
"Hey, what the hell, Sophie? I'm the one that got shot. Where's my love?"
She smiled, pulling away from Eliot and coming over to kiss his cheek, whispering almost too quietly to hear, "You're okay. He needed it more." She pressed another kiss into his forehead before easing away again, her hand smoothing down his arm as she perched on the side of his bed. "You had us worried there, for a little while."
It occurred to him, then, that he had no idea how long he'd been out. Felt like hours. "How long?"
"Honestly? About eight months. And don't you ever do that again."
---
It was good, looking around and actually finding everyone here to be looked at, but it didn't fit, yet. Mostly, they were all staring at each other and occupying the same space.
Eliot probably wasn't the only one who didn't know what to do with himself, but he wanted to get on with it, move past this, because-
Because this was as close to home as he'd been in a year, and he didn't want anything as much as he wanted it all back.
He just didn't know how to go about getting it, short of chasing everyone out. Maybe he'd just gotten used to taking his cues from Alec, maybe it was just familiarity. Maybe it was because he wanted a rewind on this whole fucking morning. Wanted a chance to talk to him, tell him some things, without three extra sets of eyes.
Nate and Sophie were throwing everything off, which Eliot knew was a shitty thing to think, and he didn't know what to do, really, with Alec's grin, when it landed on him a little longer than he'd been ready for.
Maybe it was the drugs. Probably. But maybe it was his way of saying you'll get your chance.
---
"Okay, I got that Eliot managed to save my ass, and I get that we're on a boat. I also know that as far as I can tell, none of you are hallucinations, though you," he rolled his head towards Parker. "Last I knew, Cornelius you kidnapped."
"No he didn't," Parker shook her head dismissively. "Sophie did."
"Okay. That's a little...extreme. Sophie?"
"I arrived yesterday with a business proposition for Cornelius," Sophie tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Played an Ice Queen from Chicago who had an inside man on a relief shipment that was coming through New Jersey. I promised him a cut of the profit in exchange for letting us borrow his port, and may have made reference to some lines of transport I had that could smuggle goods into and out of the Midwest."
"Okay, but that's no excuse for kidnapping. You do know that, right?"
"Hardison," Nate rolled his eyes.
"I'm getting to that," Sophie said. "Over the course of one of those little bouts of small talk that happen whenever two people meet to conspire for the first time, I mentioned an old partner of mine, who'd last been seen in Boston, who unfortunately probably hadn't survived long enough for me to deal with personally.
"That was me," Parker raised her hand. "Right?"
"Yes, and since Cornelius is exactly the sort of man you'd expect, he realized he could gain some position by offering her up on a platter. I told his men to bring her straight to me so that I might have some words. They did so, quite efficiently."
"You could've come and found us," Eliot ground out, sitting down on his cot. After a moment, Nate joined him, looking a little bored.
"There was no time. Anyway, as soon as Parker arrived, it was no trouble arranging a private interview where I was able to confirm that she still had her phone with her, which she gave to me."
"And yet, you didn't call," Eliot glared.
"It was too risky," Nate cut in. "She had to work on him."
"To be honest, most of the time was spent waiting, but I wasn't left alone for any useful length of time. Eventually, Cornelius called me to his office to discuss the deal further, and it was no problem at all to ditch the phone underneath the table. After I left, he called another meeting, this time with his top men. As soon I saw them filing out, I called Nate, with my own phone, he called Hardison-"
"And I accidentally on purpose spilled the beans about an impending hit on Cornelius, directly to Cornelius," Alec nodded. At least things were starting to make sense. A bit.
"Yes. He fell for it, entirely, and began to panic as he tried to figure out who among his men had betrayed him. "
"Good plan," Eliot rolled his eyes. "Did you mean to start a war with all this?"
"No," Nate waved him off. "Ah. Not at first."
"It wasn't until Cornelius began talking about Parker, when I first brought her up, that I realized he was planning to use her as the opening salvo," Sophie admitted. "I called Nate to warn him, once Cornelius had sent his men to find her, but we honestly hadn't expected him to move in so quickly."
"That's why we were evacuating everyone to the parking garage," Nate explained. "The original plan had all forces hitting Cornelius's ship, clearing it, and using the shipyard as a base, but it didn't work out. Had to go to plan B. That's why we were evacuating people from the top of the parking garage."
In the corner, Eliot was shaking his head, scowling. "If you'd come in quieter, you wouldn't have had to evacuate anyone."
---
They'd all been kicked out so the doctor could check in on Hardison, but it was just as well. There was a lot to take in, and frankly, Eliot was more than a little angry.
It wasn't just that he hated playing catch up, that he didn't like being left out of the loop. It was the fact that really, there probably wasn't much he could've done to help. Hell, for everything he had done, he hadn't been there to stop Alec getting shot. Hadn't been able to prevent the school from burning down.
He was pretty sure some of the people who'd gone down in the fight last night hadn't gotten up, yet.
Things got fucked up in the field. He'd known it for years, counted on it, more often than not. He didn't want to blame Nate, but it was hard.
When the doctor eventually emerged, she told all of them to let Alec get some rest. Glancing at Eliot, she paused, twitching the curtain she was drawing closed back, and said, "Mister Spencer? You too."
Given the options of sharing the same hallway as Nate, or going back into the same room as Alec, it wasn't worth fighting her on it.
---
Alec was still awake when he went inside, his eyes distant, staring through the ceiling.
"Hey."
"Hey." The curtain was closed. Eliot sat down on the bed. "How're you doing?"
Alec shrugged. "Fucked up day."
"Yeah." Eliot agreed, staring at the wall. "So listen. Ah. Just wanted to tell you, I'm really fucking glad you're okay. Scared the hell out of me, back there."
Silence, for a while, long enough that Eliot had to check to see if he was still awake, but when he did so, he caught Alec watching him, right before he turned his attention to a corner of the sheet. "Yeah, well. Weren't for you, I'd be dead. So. Thanks."
Eliot grinned, but doubted he'd pulled it off. "That was all Nate, getting you here. Sorry to tell you. I didn't do shit."
"Didn't look that way where I was sitting," Alec threaded his fingers through Eliot's, squeezing. "And hey. Least you didn't do something stupid like not check for guys with guns listening in on your phone call, right?"
Eliot shrugged. It really wasn't making him feel any better. Mostly, he just hated hearing the defeat in Alec's voice.
Don't know which one of us is a sorrier bastard, he thought, looking down at their hands.
"So Eliot," Alec waited for him to turn his way. "We won, right?"
"Huh? Oh. Ah. Yeah." Mostly.
"Good." Alec's fingers squeezed again as he yawned. "Figure out the rest of it later."
If it was advice, or a question, Eliot couldn't tell, but it needed some sort of acknowledgement.
Alec's mouth was pliant, when they kissed, but his grip didn't slacken.
---
Alec wasn't sure how long he'd been sleeping when Parker's snorting laugh woke him up, and he opened his eyes to find the four of them sitting side by side on Eliot's cot. Eliot, for his part, looked annoyed, cramped into the corner.
"What's going on?"
"Lisa's babies are funny looking," Nate summed up with raised eyebrows, earning a swat from Sophie, who was still shaking her head at Parker. It was Eliot's eye roll, though, that he answered.
"She finally popped, then?"
Eliot nodded. "Apparently they've already got Jay wrapped around his middle finger. Looks like Lisa does, too."
"Seriously? Jay and Lisa?" Alec closed his eyes. He couldn't picture it. "Okay…"
Another minute trying, though, and all he could really think was that it wasn't the only thing he didn't know. There was movement, and Eliot was looking down at him when he opened his eyes, concerned.
"You doin' alright?"
"Yeah, I'm cool. Think I'm awake for a while." He started to push himself up, but settled for letting Eliot adjust the bed, just enough that he could see without stretching his neck. It set off a dull ache in his midsection, but for now, the painkillers were holding it at bay. As long as he didn't concentrate on it. "Okay. So. Cornelius. What happened to him?"
Sophie sat up straight, taking a moment to change gears. "When all the infighting started, I began the blow-off. Told him that things were getting too hot for me, here, and that I was going to ditch out, leave town. He was eager, of course, to invite himself along, even providing a vehicle with which we could make our escape."
"I hit my head in the trunk," Parker chimed in. "He was a really crappy driver."
"Thought you were locked up," Eliot pointed out, earning him a withering glare from Parker and a shrug from Nate.
Sophie smiled. "As soon as we got out past the border, we were captured by soldiers, and held at gunpoint until the helicopter arrived to bring us back here."
Weird, Alec thought. "Why didn't you just come here directly?
"Because Cornelius' men needed to see him running," Nate coughed. "And once they'd seen it, the fighting broke down, even before the helicopters landed. According to the captain, up top, there were more deaths over in the shipyards than at the school, but on the whole, they came a lot more quietly. Anyway, Cornelius is being held and will be charged by the UN for piracy and siphoning aid, and nearly everything else under the sun."
Alec wasn't listening to all this, not really. His mind had caught on the words more deaths and was running with it.
He had no idea where Mica was. If he'd made it back for his cousin, if he was alive, or if Alec had managed to get him killed.
"Okay. So," Alec shook himself, trying to focus, but it was hard. He wasn't used to coming to a plan from the back end of it, wasn't used to having so many questions.
Once upon a time, at this part of the game, Alec wouldn't have had any. He'd have been there from start to finish, and he would have actually done something to help, instead of botching up the one tiny role Nate had assigned him.
Apparently waiting for Alec to continue, it took a moment before Eliot spoke up.
"I gotta ask. Last I heard, Nate, you were in prison, and you," he pointed at Sophie, "weren't even in the country. How'd you," he waved his hands, trailing off.
"Several months back, I made an arrangement with some rather nice women in the more charitable portions of London society. They were coming in to Maine to assist with the coordination of overseas adoption for the orphans, and they had enough ties with relief organizations to pull it off. I came with them to work as a fixer, and in return, they got me into the country. After a few days sorting them out, I talked my way onto a military convoy headed for New York."
Nate picked up the narration from there, grinning. "She shows up, flashes all this paperwork around with UN stamps all over it, and I worked out a deal. My knowledge, applied in the field, in exchange for a commuted sentence."
Alec bit the inside of his lip, knowing he should've been impressed by all this, by what they'd managed, but it was depressing.
Once upon a time, he would've been able to help, to do something. Nate had been locked up, and Sophie an ocean away, and they'd breezed through it like it was kindergarten.
A glance towards Eliot and Parker revealed that they were probably thinking similar thoughts.
It was Parker who finally spoke, frowning in confusion. "Okay. So. How did you know what you needed to do before you even got here?"
"That?" Nate and Sophie shared a glance. "That was all Hardison."
Alec's attention snapped to the fore. There was absolutely no freakin' way he'd heard that right. "I'm sorry. What?"
"Well, the few letters back and forth gave us enough to start with, but really, it was everyone else's mail that did it."
"How'd you get their mail?"
"We asked for it. Well, not directly. As part of the response, aid organizations were requesting that anyone who got mail from America share what information they could. Several letters written to family members overseas, all complaining of Cornelius' atrocities, did quite a bit."
"Yeah," Nate cut in. "Not only was there good information, like, ah, where he was based and how far his reach went, but since there were so many letters actually making it to their destination, it was easier to get a direct response from the relief agencies. If those letters hadn't gotten out, none of this would've been possible."
Alec closed his eyes. Nearby, Eliot was chuckling, but really, it was all a little much to take in.
---
Finally, Nate shut up, stood up and stretched, muttering something about trying to track down a toothbrush.
An amused snort came from the bed. "Nate, you managed to do all this, you managed to score a freakin' ship, with, like, doctors and soldiers on it. You got out of prison and took out a seriously bad dude. And you're seriously saying that you couldn't remember to pack a damned toothbrush?"
Nate rolled his eyes as the three of them filtered out, Parker offering to show Nate where the supplies were kept, because she'd spotted them when Eliot wasn't wearing his pants, earlier.
Eliot groaned, lying back down on the cot, and began counting down in his head. Three…Two…
"Hold up," Alec waved a tired, hand.
One. Here it comes.
"I slept through you running around pants-less? Someone really shoulda woke me," Alec's eyes drooped closed.
"Yeah, well. Soon as you're up for it," Eliot offered, making sure to sound like he was joking, just in case.
One eye cracked open, and the smile was lazy. "I'll have you know, underneath this here sheet? I'm totally naked."
"Uh huh."
"Just sayin', is all," he insisted, drifting off. "I'm good to go."
---
Epilogue
Rating: R
Spoilers: Up through end of season 2
Pairing: Alec Hardison/ Eliot Spencer
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: It's not really the end of the world, it just looks that way.
A/N: FINALLY wrapping this up. Though there will be an epilogue.
Story starts here
Eliot knew, even before he came to, that he was strapped to a chair. A shift of the arms, though, proved that his hands were free, unbound. It would have warned his captors, so he didn't grin at the discovery.
What kind of idiot-
The floor dipped dangerously beneath him, he could feel himself falling, and his eyes shot open. In front of him was a pilot. In front of the pilot were controls and the sky.
It took a moment to make any sense.
Right. Helicopter. What-
Alec. He turned his head sharply enough to waken the headache that had been lying in wait, needing to see.
Alec's legs were tied down to the stretcher. More than that, Eliot couldn't see. Three medics were working on him. He wanted to ask, get a status report or something, but even confused as he was, he knew this scene. Distracting them wasn't the best plan.
There was a cough to his left, and when he looked, Nate was seated next to him. He was sweating, nervous as he fiddled with the seal of the bottle in his hands. "You're dehydrated, El." Finally, he got it open and held it out. "They say it tastes like Gatorade, only worse, but it gets the job done."
"Thanks," Eliot said, grabbing the bottle. Alec's bleeding out and Nate's handing me kool-aid. Eliot drank some down. Nate wasn't lying about the taste. "How's he doing?"
"I, ah. I don't know." Nate rubbed at his neck and glanced over his shoulder to check. "But they're doing what they can."
Eliot forced himself to nod. It was what he was expecting, and it wasn't the worst answer his question could've received. "How long was I out? And where the hell are we going?"
"About a minute. Just enough time that it was a total pain in the ass loading you in here. We're on course for the Ark Royal."
"What the hell's that?"
"That" Nate smirked, pointing out the windshield, and up ahead, Eliot could see the lights below, a city's worth of light, swimming up out of the darkness.
No. Not a city.
They were heading for a ship.
"An aircraft carrier?" He tore his eyes away, scowled at Nate, and looked again. "Really?"
---
The helicopter began to make its descent, and Eliot moved on. "Where are we?"
"Just outside Pleasure Bay," Nate shrugged. "Long story, I'll tell you after you've been checked out."
"I'm fine."
"Then it won't take the doctors long, will it?" Nate smirked, but his heart wasn't in it. "Still have work to do."
Eliot had forgotten about the fighting that was probably still happening, down in the city. The people at the garage. What Nate was even doing sitting here, he couldn't guess.
But he was sort of glad he was.
---
On the ground, well, on the ship, things sped up again. Stairs going down and a hallway and then a huge room full of cots and patients and rushing nurses. Stethoscopes and thermometers and blood pressure cuffs and lights in his eyes, and finally they were able to tell him that he was exhausted. Needed to rest, needed to eat, needed to re-hydrate.
No shit.
What he needed, though, what he really needed was to know if Alec was still alive, but the nurses hadn't been much help. "He's going to be in surgery for at least a few hours," one said, glancing back towards the operating room doors as she checked the connections for Eliot's IV.
Scratch that. Right now, Eliot needed a target.
---
"No, Eliot. No freakin' way.” Nate was dead set against it. “Sophie and Parker are still in play. You go out there right now, in the state you're in, and you're going to get them killed, if you even make it that far. So sit your ass down. Get some rest. I have to get back."
“What, so this is your fight now?” Eliot glared at Nate, knowing full well that the IV drip stand at his elbow probably wasn't helping his case, but trying anyway.
“Seriously? Is that what this is about?" Nate rolled his eyes. "We’ve got about two hundred scared, injured people up top. Some of them were fighting on opposite sides an hour ago. One of two things is about to happen. Either a massive celebration, or-”
“Lynch mob.” He'd seen it before. Not wanting to see Nate's voice, in case he confirmed, Eliot looked down at the needle taped into his arm. “So what, we just sit here and wait for someone to do something stupid?”
“Ah, no. You just sit here, while I go up top do something stupid.”
“They don’t know you,” Eliot dragged himself to his feet and dropped his tone. “I can help. I know more of them than you do. And also? This ain’t my first rodeo. You’re sitting here talking about riots breaking out? I’ve started three, derailed seven, and stopped two outright. Any more bad guys need to be cleaned out, I'm the one for the job.”
“I know." Nate's eyes were suddenly everywhere but Eliot, but his tone was apologetic. "And that's exactly why you can't be up there right now. So. Ah. Just try and get some rest, yeah?"
---
Nobody down here seemed to know anything. The nurses couldn't tell him about Alec, the guards couldn't tell him about Nate.
Eliot had never thought of himself as being particularly patient, but this was worse. Nate wasn't back yet, Sophie and Parker were still out in the field, and Hardison was-
Alec was fine.
---
It wasn't just the IV line that was keeping him tied to the cot, and it wasn't the guards who were patrolling the ward. It was the knowledge that whichever path he chose, whether it was to jump ship and find Sophie and Parker, or try to give Nate some backup, or burst into the operating room, his presence would only make things worse.
The operating room doors flashed open for only a second. He could see the back of one of the doctors, the ties of his surgical scrubs, but it told him nothing.
It means there's still hope. That's not nothing, he told himself, too tired to believe it fully.
---
More people were filling the cots, now, too many for him to track.
Judging by the saline drip, Eliot had been waiting for a little over an hour, riding alternating waves of worry, confusion, and dizziness when he heard the ship's broadcast system buzz to life.
It was Nate's voice that spoke, and he sounded irritated, more than anything.
“Okay, look. All of you. What you’ve heard is true. Cornelius has been taken out of the game. Right now, there are soldiers working to make sure that his entire system goes down with him. Which means we've all won. But that. None of this matters if you're not going to do better than he did. And this, here, is your first chance."
Eliot wasn't familiar enough with ships to know if Nate intended his words to reach everyone on board, or if he only meant to address the people gathered up top.
It could've been a call for backup.
Eliot stood up and pulled the needle from his arm, because really? He hadn't needed it in the first place. It seemed, though, that the infirmary guards were ready for their charges to attempt to escape.
Nate's, though, continued. His voice, more than anything, more than the guards, was what led Eliot back to the bed. He'd let them overpower him, manhandle him back into the cot, and get a nurse to prep a new needle for the drip bag.
Because Nate was still talking, and his tone was unafraid. It had nothing to do with the fact that Eliot's vision had swam when he'd stood, that his attempt to escape had been weak, uncoordinated.
"You know that Cornelius worked through threats and intimidation. Some of you, he stole from. Some of you, he had beat and raped. He threatened your families. Some of you ran, hid. Some of you stole from your neighbors, and some of you went to work for him. All of you did what you had to do to survive."
There was a roar of angry voices coming from the deck, and Eliot tensed.
Nate wasn't placating them, he was pushing their buttons.
Any minute now, Nate would need him., but he'd already blown it. The guards-and half of the other patients- were watching him intently now. One of the guards had done him the kindness of directing his attention towards the restraints on the bed, and looked him in the eye, meaningfully. Your choice, is what he'd meant.
Somewhere, Eliot could hear crying, sharper and louder than the rest of the people.
"People, please," Nate continued, once he'd let the noise crest. "This isn't a clean slate. I'm not naïve enough to ask you to forgive one another. I'm just telling you that Cornelius' way of doing business is no longer an option. All you need to do is remember who you were a year ago. Last summer, if a crime was committed, you would put the accused on trial. You would not execute them in cold blood."
The OR door opened again, and Eliot forgot to breathe. A nurse came out with a smile on her face, but she wasn't crossing the room towards him, she was heading towards a row of chairs, filled with people who seemed to be waiting.
He had to crane his neck to look, but he noticed Jay sitting there in one of the plastic chairs, looking back up at her hopefully.
"The mother is safe, and so are the twins. Congratulations!"
"I'm not the father," Jay said, but his grin was wide anyway.
The good news hadn't been for Eliot.
He looked away and tried to ignore his own attempts to warn himself off hope. Tried to focus, again, on what Nate was saying.
In the next cot over, the woman with the wrapped ankle seemed to be having a better time of it, her eyes glancing from the speakers to Eliot, and back again. He was part of her scenery, nothing more. Like everyone down here, she had her own problems.
Eliot thought about screaming. Venting it all out. Everyone would hear him, stare. Everyone but the four people he actually gave a damn about.
Focus
"So here's the carrot. This ship is stocked with enough supplies to keep you going for a little while, and people who volunteered to come out to try and help. Here's the stick. Winter's coming, and there are a lot of cities hurting right now. Plenty of other ports, and frankly, the people funding these relief efforts are going to want to see that they're doing some good. You're going to need more help over the next few months, and part of that help is going to have to come from all of you. So. To sum up, you people need each other more than you ever had or ever will again. Don't screw it up."
The radio cut out, but Eliot could hear the noise surging from up top. Some shouting, but it was quickly buried by the humming of two hundred talking voices.
Half of them, Eliot guessed, were thinking of ways to get back at Nate for being such a jackass.
None of them, up there, were talking about Alec. They were all worried, but not about Alec. They had no reason to be. They had their own problems.
Eliot hated them all, just for existing. The fact that he knew how irrational it was didn't help at all.
---
Nate knew exactly what Eliot's glare meant, when he came back down. "What, you think puppies and flowers would've worked better?"
"So instead, your solution was to get everyone in earshot pissed off at you."
"Yeah. Inelegant, but hey, it's a unifying force if ever there was one," Nate shrugged, glancing uncomfortably towards the door of the operating room. "How's he doing?"
"I don't know," Eliot admitted, again swallowing the panic, but even to his own ears, some of it came through. "Nobody's come out yet. I don't know if that's…"
Nate knocked his fist against the foot of the bed. "I'll go check."
---
He was gone for a very long time. When he came back, his first words were "Eliot, I'm sorry."
Whatever he said next, Eliot couldn't hear. He refused to. Looked instead at the speaker by the ceiling, thinking that Nate should be talking through that, instead. Pissing people off, instead of breakin' his fucking heart.
Not fully aware that he was doing it, Eliot stood, again ripping the needle from his arm and heading towards the operating room, until Nate caught him by his elbow and dug his thumb in, hard over the puncture.
"Shit." Jerking him back to look at his face, Nate continued, shaking his head. "No, you idiot. I meant I was sorry it took so long. The doctors were busy. He's gonna be fine."
"What?"
"They're stitching him up right now. He's already breathing on his own again." He belatedly realized that Eliot had stopped moving, loosening his grip but not releasing him. "Yeah. Ah. Hmm."
Eliot, for his part, wasn't really tracking much of anything. "He's okay?" It didn't sound right. Not real.
"So far, yeah. They're going to move him in a while, but-" Nate looked up when one of the nurses appeared at his side. On the other side, one of the guards from earlier was flanking his position. Nate pretended not to notice him. "Okay, look. How about we, ah." He shook his head. "Tell you what. You let the professionals put the line back in. Then we'll go…hang out in the waiting area, you can see him when they move him to recovery, okay?"
Eliot didn't notice until he looked up that Nate was asking the nurse, not him, but it was the best thing on offer.
"Fine."
"Okay. Third time's the charm," the nurse said, and Eliot ducked Nate's glance. "Leave it in this time, all right?"
---
Once the line was re-inserted, Eliot had to deal with another doctor and another round of flashlights in the eyes, but then Nate was there again, steadying the IV rack as Eliot stood. Instead of leading him towards the waiting area, though, Nate steered him past it.
"Okay. Here's the deal. The nurses and guards in here are about as sick of you are you are of them, they're willing to transfer you to the room that Alec's recovering in for the night. As long as you eat something, and try to get some sleep, they'll probably release you in the morning."
Eliot hadn't realized that the operating room was in the middle of the ship. Beyond it was a metal wall, a wide door, and another cavernous area that looked much like the first, but darker. The overhead lights were dim, and most of the available light came from the thin fluorescent fixtures attached to the walls of the cubicles they passed.
The lights and the cubicles weren't the only difference. There were full hospital beds, here, more substantial and permanent than the cots lined up on the other side. Some of them had machines surrounding them. Some were blocked off by heavy curtains.
Eliot told himself that the curtains had some muffling properties, and that's why most of the beds were quiet.
Nate was checking the numbers of each cube they passed, and stopped at number 35. "This is you," he said, gesturing inside to the cot someone had crammed in there, next to the bed. "Ain't the Hilton, and I hope you're not too particular about beds-"
Eliot laughed, at that, and sat down on the cot.
"How long's he gonna be?"
"Not long," Nate glanced down at his phone, frowning. "Okay, look. It's late. I'll be back to check in as soon as I can, but I'm not getting a signal down here, and it's almost time for me to check in with Parker."
"Where is she?"
"If she's not cleaning out Cornelius' office, she's getting off the ship."
"And Sophie?"
"She's leading Cornelius and his most trusted people up into Cambridge." He nodded as Eliot lay back in the cot. "That's the blow-off."
"What the hell kind of job is she blowing off, exactly?
Nate opened his mouth to answer, but there were wheels rolling by, and an instant later, Alec's unconscious- only unconscious- body was being transferred to the bed. Nate watched, for a moment, clearly not enjoying the view, before tipping his head in Eliot's direction and walking away.
Whatever Nate had been about to say could wait.
---
Historically speaking, most of Eliot's injuries had been of a sort best handled in the field, or in a hotel room bathroom, away from the prying eyes of, well, anyone, but it didn't mean he didn't know a crash monitor when he saw one. The transfusion bag hanging from the rack was likewise self-explanatory.
Alec wasn't on oxygen, which was a relief. It meant two things. One, Alec was breathing of his own volition. Two, Eliot could see his face, no problem.
He could see a lot more than that, too. Alec's chest was bare, the bright swaths of bandages glaring against his skin. Eliot wondered if Alec felt the cold, or if he was too far under to notice.
If he was a better guy, he'd probably get up, pull the sheets up a little higher, but then Eliot wouldn't be able to watch him breathing. It didn't matter if he was being monitored. It was hard enough, seeing in the near dark. He didn't need anything getting in the way.
---
"I can leave the curtain shut, leave the light on while you eat," the nurse offered, her hand already on the frame she'd pulled around, once Eliot's arm was free of the IV line.
"Nah," Eliot said. "Shut 'em off and open it."
---
Dinner was horrible, awful hospital stuff.
He kind of wanted to wake Alec up, just to rave about the chicken.
---
At some point, Eliot slept, if fitfully. Didn't matter, though. He'd been staring at Alec so long that the image was burned into his dreams.
---
The ground was rocking. Alec wondered if this was the prelude, or merely an aftershock. If the world had ended while he'd…what.. Slept?
He opened his eyes to find a light overhead, too dim to do much good, but enough that he could see that he was in a hospital bed.
That movie. 28 Days Later. Jim wakes up and there's nobody, it's already too late, they're all gone, and-
Chill, man.
The end came a while back. You were there for it.
It didn't mean this was making any sense.
Why the hell is the floor moving?
Painkillers, probably.
Which meant there'd been someone there to give him painkillers. Didn't make sense, not really. Cornelius didn't seem the sort.
But, okay. Cool. We're in business.
Alec's head wasn't so sure, though. Even turning it made the floor move again, and he could still feel the shift in gravity through his entire body. A ship. This must be Cornelius' place.
He could think about it later, though, since it looked like there was going to be a later, at least for a little while.
And Eliot was lying right there.
The portion of his face not blocked by the crook of his elbow was hidden behind his hair. He was lying on his side, and now that Alec had his bearings about him a little bit more, he could hear him breathing.
You got me out. Don't know how, but…
Alec coughed, quietly, testing, because maybe Eliot was only pretending, getting ready to fake out their captors, but he didn't wake.
He wished he would, though, because there were footsteps coming, and Eliot had managed to get him here, wherever here was, and from the looks of things, Alec Hardison was counting himself among the living, but that didn't mean shit, not really.
As the curtain was drawn aside, Alec's hand passed over the bandages on his chest, and he was about to ask why they'd bothered fixing him up if they were just here to kill him, but the nurse was smiling at him. Looked honestly happy to see him.
It was all a little bit strange.
---
The doctor was heading back to pick up the results of some test or another, but the nurse was still standing outside. They'd pulled a curtain out from the wall, so Alec couldn't see Eliot, but he could hear his voice. He sounded concerned, but not angry. That was good. No sense attacking the doctors. Alec wasn't sure, but he probably needed them, for a while yet.
He fell asleep before it even occurred to him to try and speak.
---
The next time he woke up, it was because his side hurt, bad, and he was clenching his teeth against the pain too tightly to call out. Opening his eyes seemed like a wasted effort, right up until he heard it.
"Alec. Hey. Doctor's on her way."
Eliot's voice. Maybe the effort wouldn't be a total waste.
The lights were on, now, and Eliot was sitting next to the bed, his head propped up on one hand.
His eyes crinkled when he smiled.
"Asshole," Alec joked. "Smiling like that when I'm lying here dying."
The crinkles went away, fast. "Don't." Eliot picked up his wrist, prying his arm away from his stomach.
There was no way Eliot didn't notice the wince when it came.
"Hey, gonna get some more painkillers in you, okay?" he said, and there was a pause, there, where it seemed like he was winding up to say something else, but then his jaw tightened around a thin smile. "Probably gonna knock you out again."
"How long-"
"Shh," Eliot released his hold and backed away, looking to his left.
"Okay, here we go," a woman's voice answered, and there was movement on the other side of Alec's bed. "We're putting you on the good stuff, now that we know you can handle it."
Alec nodded, and within a few minutes, the pain had receded into a dull ache.
"El, I'm tired, man. Gonna pass out again, but. When I wake up again, you'd better be sitting right there, ready to tell me what the hell is going on, okay?"
"I'll try and have it figured out by then," Eliot snorted, but reached out, again, brushing against the bandages. Alec tried to catch his hand, but he was too slow.
---
It was the middle of the night when he heard Eliot's voice, quiet enough that if he'd been sleeping, it wouldn't have woken him. "Dammit, Hardison. Why didn't you leave town, get out of here when the getting was good?"
He knew that Eliot was mostly talking to himself, and that chafed, more than anything. He gave it some thought, though, and then opened his eyes. "Someone had to keep things going."
"Things."
It sucked, that he had to even explain it, after all this.
"The mail. Parker needed help getting power going in the school. Trying to get supplies through to the doctors, when we still had them." Alec's nostrils flared; he was dangerously close to fully waking. "You know all this, man. Shit."
"Yeah," was all Eliot said in response.
---
In return for a promise that he'd be quick, that he wouldn't strain himself, it hadn't been too hard to convince the nurse to arrange for a change of clean clothes. Now that he was sure Alec safe and sleeping, there was no reason not to avail himself of a chance to finally wash away the night.
The showers were empty, but still damp, recently used. Near the door there were racks filled with soap and shampoo, rough towels and washcloths. He stripped down and threw his dirty clothes into the half-full hamper waiting there.
He wondered if the clothes were going to be washed, or burned.
As expected, the water pressure sucked, but it was almost warm, and it was working, and it wasn't like he was planning on loitering in here anyway. He had to get back, wait to hear from Nate, wait for Alec to wake up again. Preferably in that order.
Otherwise, all he'd be able to tell Alec was what Nate had told him, unless he wanted to be a little too honest and try explaining what it had felt like to wake at three in the morning and stare until five, because he hadn't been entirely sure Alec was even breathing.
He had been, though. Worst yet, he'd been awake and listening, heard Eliot say some things that made sense in the middle of the night and just looked shitty during the day.
And if Eliot wasn't going to talk about that, either, there was no way he was going to bring up what it had been like staring at the doors of an operating room, trying to hold on to hope.
He shut the shower off and dried off, wrapping a towel around his waist before coming around the corner to get dressed.
He wasn't ready to get tackled, not really. It came from behind.
---
Dammit, Parker! I'm, like, practically naked here!"
"And hardly a scratch on you," she grinned, pulling away. "Hardison's sleeping, and the nurse said you were in here."
"Ah. Yeah?" Eliot rolled his eyes. "You couldn't have just waited back in the cube?"
"Tried, but..." Hearing the echo off the tiles, Parker dropped her eyes, her voice going quiet. "He looked… is he okay?"
"Yeah. Two bullet holes in him, but he's gonna be fine." Eliot gestured towards his clothes. "You mind?"
"No."
"I mean-" but Parker was already turning her back. "Yeah, you should really hurry up. Nate and Sophie will be down here in about ten minutes."
"What?" Eliot tossed the towel aside and hurried to dress himself before she forgot why she was watching the hamper.
"They're up top, talking with the captain about how they're going to handle the prisoner."
"The prisoner?" The shirt was the biggest pain to get on, sticking to his still damp skin as he tried to pull it over his head.
"Cornelius. They've got him locked in the brig. I think Sophie's trying to convince everyone to make him walk the plank."
"Don't think they do that anymore," he muttered, scrubbing at his hair, and grabbing a comb out of the box. His head was starting to pound again.
---
Eliot sat on the edge of the bed and shook Alec's shoulder, slightly.
"Hey, man. Wake up."
"Hm?" Alec scowled before blearily glaring up a him. Even annoyed, his eyes were gorgeous.
Too busy thinking that ten hours ago, there'd been a very good chance he'd never see them open and aware, ever again, Eliot forgot what he'd meant to say. Just stared back, his hand wrapped- too tightly, it turned out- around Alec's shoulder.
When it got too much, Alec caught his hand, began pressing circles into his palm. He was working his jaw like he was about to say something, but Eliot remembered, then, and nodded back towards the foot of the bed
If he was a little irritated by the grin that Parker's presence caused, or the tightness of Alec's arms around Parker's shoulders, he shoved it down. It wasn't like he was the only one allowed to give a damn.
---
Parker's fine. Eliot's fine, was really all that mattered, yeah, but it didn't mean any of this was making sense.
"So what the hell?" he asked, as Parker stood up again, exchanging a glance with Eliot, which he dropped first. It didn't look like either of them knew where to start.
"Okay, fine. Something easier. Where the hell are we, and how did we get here? In whichever order you'd like." Go figure. He had to be sitting here, trying to get information out of two of the least talkative people he'd ever met in his entire life.
I wish Nate was here.
"Hardison. Eliot. Parker," Nate stepped up to the foot of the bed. "Gang's all here."
He was pretty sure he'd never admit that his next thought, in all honesty, was holy shit, I have the Force, but then he caught sight of long dark hair sliding in behind Nate. Sophie, stalking over to Eliot and wrapping her arms around him, tight.
"Hey, what the hell, Sophie? I'm the one that got shot. Where's my love?"
She smiled, pulling away from Eliot and coming over to kiss his cheek, whispering almost too quietly to hear, "You're okay. He needed it more." She pressed another kiss into his forehead before easing away again, her hand smoothing down his arm as she perched on the side of his bed. "You had us worried there, for a little while."
It occurred to him, then, that he had no idea how long he'd been out. Felt like hours. "How long?"
"Honestly? About eight months. And don't you ever do that again."
---
It was good, looking around and actually finding everyone here to be looked at, but it didn't fit, yet. Mostly, they were all staring at each other and occupying the same space.
Eliot probably wasn't the only one who didn't know what to do with himself, but he wanted to get on with it, move past this, because-
Because this was as close to home as he'd been in a year, and he didn't want anything as much as he wanted it all back.
He just didn't know how to go about getting it, short of chasing everyone out. Maybe he'd just gotten used to taking his cues from Alec, maybe it was just familiarity. Maybe it was because he wanted a rewind on this whole fucking morning. Wanted a chance to talk to him, tell him some things, without three extra sets of eyes.
Nate and Sophie were throwing everything off, which Eliot knew was a shitty thing to think, and he didn't know what to do, really, with Alec's grin, when it landed on him a little longer than he'd been ready for.
Maybe it was the drugs. Probably. But maybe it was his way of saying you'll get your chance.
---
"Okay, I got that Eliot managed to save my ass, and I get that we're on a boat. I also know that as far as I can tell, none of you are hallucinations, though you," he rolled his head towards Parker. "Last I knew, Cornelius you kidnapped."
"No he didn't," Parker shook her head dismissively. "Sophie did."
"Okay. That's a little...extreme. Sophie?"
"I arrived yesterday with a business proposition for Cornelius," Sophie tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Played an Ice Queen from Chicago who had an inside man on a relief shipment that was coming through New Jersey. I promised him a cut of the profit in exchange for letting us borrow his port, and may have made reference to some lines of transport I had that could smuggle goods into and out of the Midwest."
"Okay, but that's no excuse for kidnapping. You do know that, right?"
"Hardison," Nate rolled his eyes.
"I'm getting to that," Sophie said. "Over the course of one of those little bouts of small talk that happen whenever two people meet to conspire for the first time, I mentioned an old partner of mine, who'd last been seen in Boston, who unfortunately probably hadn't survived long enough for me to deal with personally.
"That was me," Parker raised her hand. "Right?"
"Yes, and since Cornelius is exactly the sort of man you'd expect, he realized he could gain some position by offering her up on a platter. I told his men to bring her straight to me so that I might have some words. They did so, quite efficiently."
"You could've come and found us," Eliot ground out, sitting down on his cot. After a moment, Nate joined him, looking a little bored.
"There was no time. Anyway, as soon as Parker arrived, it was no trouble arranging a private interview where I was able to confirm that she still had her phone with her, which she gave to me."
"And yet, you didn't call," Eliot glared.
"It was too risky," Nate cut in. "She had to work on him."
"To be honest, most of the time was spent waiting, but I wasn't left alone for any useful length of time. Eventually, Cornelius called me to his office to discuss the deal further, and it was no problem at all to ditch the phone underneath the table. After I left, he called another meeting, this time with his top men. As soon I saw them filing out, I called Nate, with my own phone, he called Hardison-"
"And I accidentally on purpose spilled the beans about an impending hit on Cornelius, directly to Cornelius," Alec nodded. At least things were starting to make sense. A bit.
"Yes. He fell for it, entirely, and began to panic as he tried to figure out who among his men had betrayed him. "
"Good plan," Eliot rolled his eyes. "Did you mean to start a war with all this?"
"No," Nate waved him off. "Ah. Not at first."
"It wasn't until Cornelius began talking about Parker, when I first brought her up, that I realized he was planning to use her as the opening salvo," Sophie admitted. "I called Nate to warn him, once Cornelius had sent his men to find her, but we honestly hadn't expected him to move in so quickly."
"That's why we were evacuating everyone to the parking garage," Nate explained. "The original plan had all forces hitting Cornelius's ship, clearing it, and using the shipyard as a base, but it didn't work out. Had to go to plan B. That's why we were evacuating people from the top of the parking garage."
In the corner, Eliot was shaking his head, scowling. "If you'd come in quieter, you wouldn't have had to evacuate anyone."
---
They'd all been kicked out so the doctor could check in on Hardison, but it was just as well. There was a lot to take in, and frankly, Eliot was more than a little angry.
It wasn't just that he hated playing catch up, that he didn't like being left out of the loop. It was the fact that really, there probably wasn't much he could've done to help. Hell, for everything he had done, he hadn't been there to stop Alec getting shot. Hadn't been able to prevent the school from burning down.
He was pretty sure some of the people who'd gone down in the fight last night hadn't gotten up, yet.
Things got fucked up in the field. He'd known it for years, counted on it, more often than not. He didn't want to blame Nate, but it was hard.
When the doctor eventually emerged, she told all of them to let Alec get some rest. Glancing at Eliot, she paused, twitching the curtain she was drawing closed back, and said, "Mister Spencer? You too."
Given the options of sharing the same hallway as Nate, or going back into the same room as Alec, it wasn't worth fighting her on it.
---
Alec was still awake when he went inside, his eyes distant, staring through the ceiling.
"Hey."
"Hey." The curtain was closed. Eliot sat down on the bed. "How're you doing?"
Alec shrugged. "Fucked up day."
"Yeah." Eliot agreed, staring at the wall. "So listen. Ah. Just wanted to tell you, I'm really fucking glad you're okay. Scared the hell out of me, back there."
Silence, for a while, long enough that Eliot had to check to see if he was still awake, but when he did so, he caught Alec watching him, right before he turned his attention to a corner of the sheet. "Yeah, well. Weren't for you, I'd be dead. So. Thanks."
Eliot grinned, but doubted he'd pulled it off. "That was all Nate, getting you here. Sorry to tell you. I didn't do shit."
"Didn't look that way where I was sitting," Alec threaded his fingers through Eliot's, squeezing. "And hey. Least you didn't do something stupid like not check for guys with guns listening in on your phone call, right?"
Eliot shrugged. It really wasn't making him feel any better. Mostly, he just hated hearing the defeat in Alec's voice.
Don't know which one of us is a sorrier bastard, he thought, looking down at their hands.
"So Eliot," Alec waited for him to turn his way. "We won, right?"
"Huh? Oh. Ah. Yeah." Mostly.
"Good." Alec's fingers squeezed again as he yawned. "Figure out the rest of it later."
If it was advice, or a question, Eliot couldn't tell, but it needed some sort of acknowledgement.
Alec's mouth was pliant, when they kissed, but his grip didn't slacken.
---
Alec wasn't sure how long he'd been sleeping when Parker's snorting laugh woke him up, and he opened his eyes to find the four of them sitting side by side on Eliot's cot. Eliot, for his part, looked annoyed, cramped into the corner.
"What's going on?"
"Lisa's babies are funny looking," Nate summed up with raised eyebrows, earning a swat from Sophie, who was still shaking her head at Parker. It was Eliot's eye roll, though, that he answered.
"She finally popped, then?"
Eliot nodded. "Apparently they've already got Jay wrapped around his middle finger. Looks like Lisa does, too."
"Seriously? Jay and Lisa?" Alec closed his eyes. He couldn't picture it. "Okay…"
Another minute trying, though, and all he could really think was that it wasn't the only thing he didn't know. There was movement, and Eliot was looking down at him when he opened his eyes, concerned.
"You doin' alright?"
"Yeah, I'm cool. Think I'm awake for a while." He started to push himself up, but settled for letting Eliot adjust the bed, just enough that he could see without stretching his neck. It set off a dull ache in his midsection, but for now, the painkillers were holding it at bay. As long as he didn't concentrate on it. "Okay. So. Cornelius. What happened to him?"
Sophie sat up straight, taking a moment to change gears. "When all the infighting started, I began the blow-off. Told him that things were getting too hot for me, here, and that I was going to ditch out, leave town. He was eager, of course, to invite himself along, even providing a vehicle with which we could make our escape."
"I hit my head in the trunk," Parker chimed in. "He was a really crappy driver."
"Thought you were locked up," Eliot pointed out, earning him a withering glare from Parker and a shrug from Nate.
Sophie smiled. "As soon as we got out past the border, we were captured by soldiers, and held at gunpoint until the helicopter arrived to bring us back here."
Weird, Alec thought. "Why didn't you just come here directly?
"Because Cornelius' men needed to see him running," Nate coughed. "And once they'd seen it, the fighting broke down, even before the helicopters landed. According to the captain, up top, there were more deaths over in the shipyards than at the school, but on the whole, they came a lot more quietly. Anyway, Cornelius is being held and will be charged by the UN for piracy and siphoning aid, and nearly everything else under the sun."
Alec wasn't listening to all this, not really. His mind had caught on the words more deaths and was running with it.
He had no idea where Mica was. If he'd made it back for his cousin, if he was alive, or if Alec had managed to get him killed.
"Okay. So," Alec shook himself, trying to focus, but it was hard. He wasn't used to coming to a plan from the back end of it, wasn't used to having so many questions.
Once upon a time, at this part of the game, Alec wouldn't have had any. He'd have been there from start to finish, and he would have actually done something to help, instead of botching up the one tiny role Nate had assigned him.
Apparently waiting for Alec to continue, it took a moment before Eliot spoke up.
"I gotta ask. Last I heard, Nate, you were in prison, and you," he pointed at Sophie, "weren't even in the country. How'd you," he waved his hands, trailing off.
"Several months back, I made an arrangement with some rather nice women in the more charitable portions of London society. They were coming in to Maine to assist with the coordination of overseas adoption for the orphans, and they had enough ties with relief organizations to pull it off. I came with them to work as a fixer, and in return, they got me into the country. After a few days sorting them out, I talked my way onto a military convoy headed for New York."
Nate picked up the narration from there, grinning. "She shows up, flashes all this paperwork around with UN stamps all over it, and I worked out a deal. My knowledge, applied in the field, in exchange for a commuted sentence."
Alec bit the inside of his lip, knowing he should've been impressed by all this, by what they'd managed, but it was depressing.
Once upon a time, he would've been able to help, to do something. Nate had been locked up, and Sophie an ocean away, and they'd breezed through it like it was kindergarten.
A glance towards Eliot and Parker revealed that they were probably thinking similar thoughts.
It was Parker who finally spoke, frowning in confusion. "Okay. So. How did you know what you needed to do before you even got here?"
"That?" Nate and Sophie shared a glance. "That was all Hardison."
Alec's attention snapped to the fore. There was absolutely no freakin' way he'd heard that right. "I'm sorry. What?"
"Well, the few letters back and forth gave us enough to start with, but really, it was everyone else's mail that did it."
"How'd you get their mail?"
"We asked for it. Well, not directly. As part of the response, aid organizations were requesting that anyone who got mail from America share what information they could. Several letters written to family members overseas, all complaining of Cornelius' atrocities, did quite a bit."
"Yeah," Nate cut in. "Not only was there good information, like, ah, where he was based and how far his reach went, but since there were so many letters actually making it to their destination, it was easier to get a direct response from the relief agencies. If those letters hadn't gotten out, none of this would've been possible."
Alec closed his eyes. Nearby, Eliot was chuckling, but really, it was all a little much to take in.
---
Finally, Nate shut up, stood up and stretched, muttering something about trying to track down a toothbrush.
An amused snort came from the bed. "Nate, you managed to do all this, you managed to score a freakin' ship, with, like, doctors and soldiers on it. You got out of prison and took out a seriously bad dude. And you're seriously saying that you couldn't remember to pack a damned toothbrush?"
Nate rolled his eyes as the three of them filtered out, Parker offering to show Nate where the supplies were kept, because she'd spotted them when Eliot wasn't wearing his pants, earlier.
Eliot groaned, lying back down on the cot, and began counting down in his head. Three…Two…
"Hold up," Alec waved a tired, hand.
One. Here it comes.
"I slept through you running around pants-less? Someone really shoulda woke me," Alec's eyes drooped closed.
"Yeah, well. Soon as you're up for it," Eliot offered, making sure to sound like he was joking, just in case.
One eye cracked open, and the smile was lazy. "I'll have you know, underneath this here sheet? I'm totally naked."
"Uh huh."
"Just sayin', is all," he insisted, drifting off. "I'm good to go."
---
Epilogue