Fic: Losing Ground [13]
Fic: Losing Ground [13]
Author: LMX
Fandom: Leverage
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Nate/Sophie
Warnings: Eliot-harm. Misuse of pharmaceuticals.
Character Note: Dr. Laroque was from the Homecoming Job (1.2)
AN: See parts [2] and [3]. Eliot-harm comes in three parts. Backwards. Because it's me and I'm enjoying messing with timelines for this fic.
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19]
[13]
Sophie knocked gently, not wanting to wake Eliot if he was sleeping. There was no noise from inside Nate's apartment and Sophie debated picking the lock and letting herself in. Nate had said to leave them be for a bit longer, but she'd waited long enough and she just had to see them. She needed to know that they were alright. Nate may be ignoring the fact, but Eliot wasn't the only one who'd left the hospital against the doctor's advice. Just as she was reaching for her picks, the door opened and Eliot was stood there. The rush of relief was so strong that Sophie had to physically restrain herself from throwing her arms around his neck. It was so good to see him up, even if it was stooped and with an arm wrapped gingerly around his ribs.
He put two splinted fingers to his lips and gestured inside. Sophie nodded silently and stepped past him. There was a rumbling snore coming from Nate's room, and Sophie couldn't help but smile at the sound. If Nate was sleeping that soundly then things must be better than they seemed.
Eliot sat cautiously, arm wrapped around himself again as if he was still trying to hold himself together. Remembering the state of his ribs, that might be more or less true. Sophie sat next to him, willing him into sharper focus so that she could check the pain lines around his eyes and see how much he was hiding from her. She tangled her hands together in her lap to stop herself from seeking across his body for all the hurts she couldn't see.
[I'm OK, Sophie.] he signed with one hand, the bandages distorting the shapes in ways that added insult to injury for Sophie. Eliot's gorgeous deep gravely voice, a grifter's dream, that voice. She scrubbed at her eyes, ashamed of the welling tears with her breath already hitching in her chest. Eliot's growl was loud in the silence, an unexpected noise, and he settled his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in against his side.
"I don't want to hurt you." she whispered, stiff against him until he reached out to arrange her arms around his waist, around the damage. In close contact now, Sophie could feel the way that Eliot was trembling. She wasn't sure if it was pain or residual shock and trauma, but she pulled him closer and wished she didn't feel so helpless.
They both jumped at the clock alarm in the other room, and Eliot groaned quietly, moving a hand to press it against his side. Sophie pulled away, worried she'd hurt him, but Eliot caught her hand before she'd pulled away completely. He released her as Nate stumbled out of his room, letting her step away and greet him.
Nate, for his part, just blinked at her blearily as she wandered over and wrapped him in a hug, laying gentle kisses on his lips until he responded, drawing her into a deeper kiss.
"Sophie." he sighed as they separated. "I told you to wait."
"And when have I ever done anything you told me?" she asked.
Nate's face was hard and unlaughing, his lips a tight line. "I need you to do this, Sophie. Give us twenty minutes. There's a coffee shop just over the road, you could…"
"No. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here now, what ever you need to do, I'm staying." Sophie waited as Nate turned to look at Eliot. Whatever they communicated in that look, Eliot stood and wandered out of the room.
"Sophie, please." Nate sighed, and she could hear the resignation in his voice. He knew he'd already lost this argument. "This isn't pleasant."
"Even more reason I want to be here." Sophie offered softly.
Shaking his head, Nate went after Eliot and Sophie followed him. Eliot was laying things out on the side in the bathroom as Sophie trailed Nate in. The space wasn't really big enough for three people, but the bright light made it easier for Sophie to focus and track Eliot's hands as he set out three of Nate's mugs and put a little powder from a row of very dubious looking plastic pouches into each one, followed by a teaspoon of salt, and topped them up with bottled water. He kept catching the splint on the fingers of his right hand, and his left was barely any more dexterous with the fingertips all bandaged inelegantly, but Nate didn't interrupt him or offer to help.
Apparently satisfied, he sat back on the lid of the toilet and held his ribs.
"Last chance, Sophie." Nate offered, not meeting her eyes.
She looked over the row of cups, still no real idea what all this was about. With his feet, Eliot shuffled a bucket in front of him and gestured a 'hurry up' at Nate.
Turning his back on Sophie without waiting for a response, Nate pulled out a stopwatch and put it down on the side. Then he picked up the first cup.
Eliot took it from him and emptied all the liquid into his mouth. To Sophie it looked like he'd just swallowed a cup full of acid. His head wrenched back and his hand tightened around Nate's arm as Nate reached across on pressed the green button on the stopwatch.
"God, Nate. What are you doing!?" Sophie asked sharply, watching Eliot writhe in pain.
"Not right now, Sophie." Nate ground out. "Half way." he said, loud over the panting noises Eliot was making through his nose.
"Nate." Sophie insisted. Nate ignored her, focused entirely on Eliot who was visibly struggling now, cheeks red and lips white. "Eliot, just..."
The stopwatch beeped and Eliot spat the liquid into the bucket - retching and coughing pink-tinged spit. He made a truly pitiful noise, both hands wrapped around his ribs tightly. Sophie couldn't even begin to imagine how that must have felt to broken ribs.
"What are you *doing*?" she hissed.
"You done?" Nate asked Eliot, still ignoring her. Eliot nodded once. "Anything moved?" Nate pressed. Eliot grimaced and straightened, swiping away pained tears from the corners of his eyes. He shook his head very gently. "Ready for the next one?"
[Tell Sophie.] he signed briefly, before holding out his hand for the next cup.
He fixed his hand on the sink this time before emptying the cup. Nate knocked the timer on and turned away from him as the pattern started again, apparently no less painful the second time around.
"They did what needed doing at the hospital, but because it's in his mouth there's a serious infection risk, as well as swelling interfering with his breathing..." Nate hesitated as Eliot moaned. "Because Eliot won't go back to the hospital we're doing this in a bit of a slapdash way. A cocktail of over-the-counters and a fair amount of salt, three times every two hours. Dr. Laroque's recipe. It's dangerous because..."
There was a beep and Nate moved to grab Eliot's shoulders as he slumped over the bucket, clearly exhausted. "Eliot?" Nate asked. Eliot shook his head slowly, sitting back up and pressing his hand against one point in his side carefully. He made a half-hearted 'ok' with his hands and reached for the last cup. "Take a minute." Nate said, catching his hand. "Be sure about that rib, there was a lot of blood in that one."
Carefully, Sophie moved forwards and wiped a trail of bloody spittle from Eliot's chin. He blinked slowly up at her, wincing as he coughed again.
"If his broken ribs shift he could puncture a lung." Nate continued flatly. "If I miss the signs of infection it would be very bad. If the swelling affects his breathing there is literally no chance of me getting him to a hospital in time or getting an ambulance here. Dehydration is a possible issue, as well as overdosing on the drugs because of the way we're administering them. Dr. Laroque was very insistent that Eliot get to a hospital."
"Then why aren't you there, Eliot?"
Eliot took the last cup from the side and emptied it in reply.
-
Masterpost
Author: LMX
Fandom: Leverage
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Nate/Sophie
Warnings: Eliot-harm. Misuse of pharmaceuticals.
Character Note: Dr. Laroque was from the Homecoming Job (1.2)
AN: See parts [2] and [3]. Eliot-harm comes in three parts. Backwards. Because it's me and I'm enjoying messing with timelines for this fic.
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19]
[13]
Sophie knocked gently, not wanting to wake Eliot if he was sleeping. There was no noise from inside Nate's apartment and Sophie debated picking the lock and letting herself in. Nate had said to leave them be for a bit longer, but she'd waited long enough and she just had to see them. She needed to know that they were alright. Nate may be ignoring the fact, but Eliot wasn't the only one who'd left the hospital against the doctor's advice. Just as she was reaching for her picks, the door opened and Eliot was stood there. The rush of relief was so strong that Sophie had to physically restrain herself from throwing her arms around his neck. It was so good to see him up, even if it was stooped and with an arm wrapped gingerly around his ribs.
He put two splinted fingers to his lips and gestured inside. Sophie nodded silently and stepped past him. There was a rumbling snore coming from Nate's room, and Sophie couldn't help but smile at the sound. If Nate was sleeping that soundly then things must be better than they seemed.
Eliot sat cautiously, arm wrapped around himself again as if he was still trying to hold himself together. Remembering the state of his ribs, that might be more or less true. Sophie sat next to him, willing him into sharper focus so that she could check the pain lines around his eyes and see how much he was hiding from her. She tangled her hands together in her lap to stop herself from seeking across his body for all the hurts she couldn't see.
[I'm OK, Sophie.] he signed with one hand, the bandages distorting the shapes in ways that added insult to injury for Sophie. Eliot's gorgeous deep gravely voice, a grifter's dream, that voice. She scrubbed at her eyes, ashamed of the welling tears with her breath already hitching in her chest. Eliot's growl was loud in the silence, an unexpected noise, and he settled his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in against his side.
"I don't want to hurt you." she whispered, stiff against him until he reached out to arrange her arms around his waist, around the damage. In close contact now, Sophie could feel the way that Eliot was trembling. She wasn't sure if it was pain or residual shock and trauma, but she pulled him closer and wished she didn't feel so helpless.
They both jumped at the clock alarm in the other room, and Eliot groaned quietly, moving a hand to press it against his side. Sophie pulled away, worried she'd hurt him, but Eliot caught her hand before she'd pulled away completely. He released her as Nate stumbled out of his room, letting her step away and greet him.
Nate, for his part, just blinked at her blearily as she wandered over and wrapped him in a hug, laying gentle kisses on his lips until he responded, drawing her into a deeper kiss.
"Sophie." he sighed as they separated. "I told you to wait."
"And when have I ever done anything you told me?" she asked.
Nate's face was hard and unlaughing, his lips a tight line. "I need you to do this, Sophie. Give us twenty minutes. There's a coffee shop just over the road, you could…"
"No. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here now, what ever you need to do, I'm staying." Sophie waited as Nate turned to look at Eliot. Whatever they communicated in that look, Eliot stood and wandered out of the room.
"Sophie, please." Nate sighed, and she could hear the resignation in his voice. He knew he'd already lost this argument. "This isn't pleasant."
"Even more reason I want to be here." Sophie offered softly.
Shaking his head, Nate went after Eliot and Sophie followed him. Eliot was laying things out on the side in the bathroom as Sophie trailed Nate in. The space wasn't really big enough for three people, but the bright light made it easier for Sophie to focus and track Eliot's hands as he set out three of Nate's mugs and put a little powder from a row of very dubious looking plastic pouches into each one, followed by a teaspoon of salt, and topped them up with bottled water. He kept catching the splint on the fingers of his right hand, and his left was barely any more dexterous with the fingertips all bandaged inelegantly, but Nate didn't interrupt him or offer to help.
Apparently satisfied, he sat back on the lid of the toilet and held his ribs.
"Last chance, Sophie." Nate offered, not meeting her eyes.
She looked over the row of cups, still no real idea what all this was about. With his feet, Eliot shuffled a bucket in front of him and gestured a 'hurry up' at Nate.
Turning his back on Sophie without waiting for a response, Nate pulled out a stopwatch and put it down on the side. Then he picked up the first cup.
Eliot took it from him and emptied all the liquid into his mouth. To Sophie it looked like he'd just swallowed a cup full of acid. His head wrenched back and his hand tightened around Nate's arm as Nate reached across on pressed the green button on the stopwatch.
"God, Nate. What are you doing!?" Sophie asked sharply, watching Eliot writhe in pain.
"Not right now, Sophie." Nate ground out. "Half way." he said, loud over the panting noises Eliot was making through his nose.
"Nate." Sophie insisted. Nate ignored her, focused entirely on Eliot who was visibly struggling now, cheeks red and lips white. "Eliot, just..."
The stopwatch beeped and Eliot spat the liquid into the bucket - retching and coughing pink-tinged spit. He made a truly pitiful noise, both hands wrapped around his ribs tightly. Sophie couldn't even begin to imagine how that must have felt to broken ribs.
"What are you *doing*?" she hissed.
"You done?" Nate asked Eliot, still ignoring her. Eliot nodded once. "Anything moved?" Nate pressed. Eliot grimaced and straightened, swiping away pained tears from the corners of his eyes. He shook his head very gently. "Ready for the next one?"
[Tell Sophie.] he signed briefly, before holding out his hand for the next cup.
He fixed his hand on the sink this time before emptying the cup. Nate knocked the timer on and turned away from him as the pattern started again, apparently no less painful the second time around.
"They did what needed doing at the hospital, but because it's in his mouth there's a serious infection risk, as well as swelling interfering with his breathing..." Nate hesitated as Eliot moaned. "Because Eliot won't go back to the hospital we're doing this in a bit of a slapdash way. A cocktail of over-the-counters and a fair amount of salt, three times every two hours. Dr. Laroque's recipe. It's dangerous because..."
There was a beep and Nate moved to grab Eliot's shoulders as he slumped over the bucket, clearly exhausted. "Eliot?" Nate asked. Eliot shook his head slowly, sitting back up and pressing his hand against one point in his side carefully. He made a half-hearted 'ok' with his hands and reached for the last cup. "Take a minute." Nate said, catching his hand. "Be sure about that rib, there was a lot of blood in that one."
Carefully, Sophie moved forwards and wiped a trail of bloody spittle from Eliot's chin. He blinked slowly up at her, wincing as he coughed again.
"If his broken ribs shift he could puncture a lung." Nate continued flatly. "If I miss the signs of infection it would be very bad. If the swelling affects his breathing there is literally no chance of me getting him to a hospital in time or getting an ambulance here. Dehydration is a possible issue, as well as overdosing on the drugs because of the way we're administering them. Dr. Laroque was very insistent that Eliot get to a hospital."
"Then why aren't you there, Eliot?"
Eliot took the last cup from the side and emptied it in reply.
-
Masterpost