Fic: There is no "I" in Team (2/3)
Title: There is no "I" in Team (2/3)
Author: LittleFairy78
Fandom: Leverage
Rating: T due to some language and violence
Summary: Tag to "The Wedding Job". It takes some time for a lone wolf to get used to being part of a team. For Eliot Spencer, it might have taken too long to learn that there is nothing wrong with asking the people you work with for help.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Leverage. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made with this story.
Genre: Episode tag, slightly AU-ish concerning the end of the episode. Whump.
Spoilers: Everything up to "The Wedding Job" is fair game.
Chapter 2
The wedding was over, bride and groom were happily married and on their way to their honeymoon with an unexpected surprise waiting for them in the trunk of their car, Mrs. Moscone had made a quick exit and as expected, Mr. Moscone hadn't wasted any time in changing the pass codes to his offshore accounts so that his wife wouldn't get to the money.
Hardison had the codes, which meant that the job was over. Nate allowed himself a sip of wine and a few seconds to bask in the feeling of success that always came with a job well done. The team was assembled in the kitchen, all ready and set to leave. In fact, the only one who was still missing was Eliot, who hadn't yet returned from his trip to deposit the money in the young couple's car. Once he got back, they could pack up and leave, another job gone well.
Nate put the wineglass away and checked his watch with a frown.
What with everything that had happened, Mrs. Moscone's flight and listening in to the phone call that gave them access to the new pass codes he hadn't noticed, but Eliot had been gone for over fifteen minutes now. Much too long for a simple run to the car and back. There had been no distress call over Eliot's microphone, but still Nate couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Of course Eliot was more than capable of dealing with an attacker. If any of them were, it was Eliot. But even if there were still some Russian mobsters on the premises and Elliot had run into them, he'd have called it in to let the rest of the team know about it.
Something was wrong here.
Nate put his glass down and looked at the rest of the team.
"Anybody seen Eliot in the last few minutes?"
Sophie, Parker and Hardison exchanged glances, but they all conveyed the same message. No they hadn't.
"Damn it." Nate ran a hand through his hair, thinking frantically before he started speaking into his mic. "Eliot, where are you?"
But the only answer he got was silence over the earpiece.
"Eliot, answer me!"
"Nate, what's wrong?" Sophie asked with a frown. "I thought Eliot was here the whole time. He didn't call over the mic, not that I heard."
"He was here. I sent him out to deposit the money in the car, and he hasn't checked back in."
Hardison cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. "How long ago was that?"
"Fifteen minutes."
"Damn."
Nate wholeheartedly agreed with that statement. Something was wrong here. They needed to find Eliot, and fast.
"Sophie, Parker, check the ground floor and the garden. The wedding tent, everywhere. Hardison, you go outside through the garage, see if Eliot got caught up somewhere along the way. I'll circle around the house and meet you in front of the garage."
The team immediately dispersed through the house, and Nate hurried towards the front door to circle around to the garage. The Butcher and his two henchmen were safe and secured in a storage room in the basement, awaiting the arrival of the authorities that Nate was going to call on them as soon as they were away safely. They couldn't be the reason why Eliot had checked back in. But with the illustrious guest list, there were more bad guys on the premises right now than in the local police station's holding cells, so there simply was no telling. Eliot had been involved in many jobs before they had started working together, there was a very good possibility that he had met more people in this house than just the Butcher of Kiev before.
Nate wanted to slap himself for not making sure more thoroughly that something like this wasn't going to happen. The arrival of the Butcher had already come out of the blue and had jumbled their plans somewhat. This couldn't happen again. More thorough background checks, that's what they were going to do in the future. With all their pasts, it was a necessity to make sure that nobody involved in the jobs remembered them from another con in the past.
And if this turned out to be nothing but a fluke, if Eliot didn't check in because he was flirting with a girl or admiring Moscone's cars, there would be hell to pay.
But first they had to find him, of course. And once they knew what had happened, he would worry about how to deal with it. First things first. Find Eliot, finish the job, deal with everything later.
Nate left the house through the front door and turned to the left. The garage was on the side of the house, he'd only need to circle around to the left to get there. So far, there was nothing suspicious. The occasional throng of guests was milling around, but with the newlywed couple off to their honeymoon and the father of the bride otherwise occupied, the celebration had pretty much died down by now.
Nate was halfway around the house when he suddenly heard Hardison's voice through his earpiece, and the tone of voice alone was enough to realize that something was seriously wrong.
"Nate, we have a problem."
"Did you find Eliot?"
"Yeah, he's in the garage. We need an ambulance."
Nate started running. He didn't care what he had to look like, running past the house in his minister's clothes. Hardison's words had him worried. He knew the other man wouldn't mention calling an ambulance if they could deal with the injury on their own. Involving a hospital stay could endanger the job, Hardison knew that. He wouldn't mention an ambulance if he didn't think they needed one. Besides, right now Nate didn't care. His people were more important than the job.
"Sophie, did you hear that?"
"Calling an ambulance now," her voice came over the earpiece. "What shall I tell them?"
"Hardison, talk to me."
"He's losing a lot of blood," the computer expert said, his voice tight and worried. "He's not conscious, and his breathing is kinda flat. Looks like he tried to bandage the wound himself, but I have no idea what happened."
The Butcher had happened, Nate was sure of that. Which led to the question why Eliot had not told him about the injury earlier, when they had been alone in the kitchen. Another thing to worry about later.
"The ambulance is on its way." Sophie relayed a few moments later. Nate nodded, mind frantically going through their next steps. Considering the standard response times, the ambulance would be here in less than ten minutes. And even though the party was pretty much dying down around them, the arrival of paramedics was going to cause a bit of a stir. They didn't need any additional attention on them right now.
"Sophie, Parker, I want you to clear things for the arrival of the ambulance. Moscone should be otherwise occupied, but make sure that he doesn't notice what's going on. The last thing we need right now is for him to get suspicious of us."
Nate hated to think of the job right now, when he didn't even know what was going on with Eliot yet. But that was part of what they were doing - they had the team to consider. And he was the one who was holding the team together. If anybody needed to detach himself and consider the situation as a whole and not just the most urgent problem, it was him.
"Okay." Maybe he just imagined it, but Sophie's voice sounded as if she understood why he was giving that particular order. "Parker, meet me in the kitchen."
"On my way."
Knowing that the two women would take care of that, Nate tuned out thoughts about Moscone and the stir the arrival of an ambulance was going to cause. Now it was time to figure out just how bad things stood about Eliot. Finally, Nate reached the outer garage door and quickly pulled it open. The spacious room behind was brightly lit, the glare from the spotlights reflecting in the windshields of the cars. But no trace of either Hardison or Eliot anywhere.
"Hardison!"
"Over here!"
The call had come from Nate's right, from behind one of the parked limousines. As he got closer, Nate saw what he first thought was a slightly discolored stain on the wall. Only when he got close did he realize that it was a smear of blood, roughly the shape and size of a hand. Heart beating fast in his chest, Nate sprinted around the car.
And froze.
Hardison was kneeling on the ground, looking up at the sound of Nate's approach. Despite his dark skin tone, the younger man looked pale, and his eyes were wide as he looked up at his boss. Hardison had taken off the colorful scarf he had been wearing as part of his DJ-outfit and was pressing it against Eliot's side with both hands.
Eliot.
Now there was the real reason why Nate had frozen on the spot. If Hardison was pale, Eliot was positively white. And limp. His eyes were closed, he wasn't moving, and there was blood soaking through his shirt and the scarf Hardison was pressing against the wound. For a moment Nate simply stared, then he crossed the remaining distance and knelt down beside the two men.
"How bad is it?" He asked, even though one look at the amount of blood already told him enough about the seriousness of the situation.
Hardison shook his head. "I'm not a doctor, Nate. That much blood? That can't be good, that's all I know."
And Nate could only agree wholeheartedly. That amount of blood definitely wasn't good. And even though it seemed as if Hardison's pressure bandage was controlling the bleeding by now, Nate could not quite push away the nagging thought that maybe it was simply because Eliot had already lost too much blood to still be bleeding heavily.
Why hadn't he said anything earlier?
That was the question it all came back to. Nate was sure that the wound was the Butcher's work. But they had been alone in the kitchen earlier. So why hadn't Eliot mentioned that he was hurt then? They could have gotten him to the hospital with time to spare, before things got as critical as they seemed now. And they would have had time to make up a story as to what had happened to Eliot.
But fact was Eliot hadn't said a word about his injury.
Instead, he had obviously tried to take care of it himself. From what Nate could see under the scarf Hardison was still pressing against Eliot's side, the younger man had put a makeshift pressure bandage on the wound. Nate knew that Eliot was well-versed in field triage, and dealing with wounds. Hell, he had stitched up Nate after that bank job had nearly gone to hell. But especially Eliot should have known that the wound needed professional care, and that he wasn't going to be able to finish the job in this condition.
Later.
All those questions would have to wait until later. Right now, they needed to make sure Eliot stayed alive to answer them.
Nate reached up and pressed two fingers against Eliot's jugular. The younger man's skin was cold and clammy, and the pulse Nate found beating against his fingers was weak and too thready for his liking. But it was still there, that at least was something.
"Ambulance is on its way?" Hardison asked, even though he must have heard their earlier conversation over his earpiece.
"Yeah, they should be here soon. Sophie and Parker are taking care of everything outside."
"They better hurry," Hardison mumbled, and Nate knew that he wasn't talking about their two teammates. "Damn it Nate, what happened?"
Nate shifted around so that he could keep an eye on both, Eliot and the garage door. Feeling Hardison's gaze on him, he shrugged slightly.
"My best guess right now is the Butcher."
Hardison shook his head, the muscles in his arms tensing as he shifted slightly and reapplied pressure onto the wound.
"Man, that doesn't make no sense. If the Butcher got him, why didn't he call for help? He's still wearing his earwig, he only needed to say the word. Why didn't he call us, Nate?"
"I don't know," Nate sighed.
And he didn't know for sure, but he had a very good idea.
Eliot was essentially a lone wolf.
They all were, to a degree, but none of them as much as Eliot. It had been like that even back when Nate had still considered himself to be standing on the other side. Back when he had chased every member of his team at least once.
Sophie had always been in it for her personal gain, for the money, the artwork, for the pleasure of the knowledge that she owned things she wasn't supposed to be owning.
Parker did it for the thrill. Of course money paid a role. Money always paid a role, for all of them. But for Parker, it was the thrill of the act of stealing that did it.
And Hardison - well. Computer fraud wasn't exactly a team crime, either.
So they all weren't team players by default. But Eliot was playing in a different league altogether. In Eliot's earlier jobs, he had only ever relied on himself to come out unscathed. And it hadn't merely been his freedom that had been at stake in case he screwed up. Eliot always risked his life for the jobs he had taken on, with no safety net to fall back on, and nobody on the sidelines looking out for him.
Eliot wasn't used to calling for help because he wasn't used to have someone who was actually there to back him up. And Nate didn't think that they had been working together for long enough. Not long enough for Eliot to change something as integral to him as the idea that he was fighting alone.
Nate didn't share any of these thoughts with Hardison as they waited for the ambulance to arrive. Now wasn't the time, and Hardison wasn't the right person for this. Not now, when he still had both his hands pressed against Eliot's wound in an attempt to still the other man's bleeding. But it was definitely something Nate wasn't going to be able to ignore for much longer.
It had sounded so easy, forming a team out of the four of them, combining their respective skills to orchestrate the jobs. Take the best of each of them and put it together in a way so that the bad guys didn't know what hit them until it was too late. And it had been easy, until now. Too easy, and maybe that realization came too late.
Nate only hoped it wasn't too late.
The ambulance response time was good, way beyond the ten minutes Nate had estimated, and secretly feared. Maybe six minutes since Sophie had called them, it was hard to tell. But no matter how many minutes, it seemed endlessly long until the door to the garage burst open again and two paramedics came through. They were followed closely by Parker and Sophie, the latter of which was talking to one of the medics, gesturing exuberantly as she hurried alongside him.
Nate would have to ask her for the cover story she was giving to the paramedics as soon as they were on the way to the hospital. And they would have to find an identity for Eliot that they could put on the hospital admittance forms. He would need to talk to Hardison about that. The computer expert was the one who had created their various aliases, and for this they needed an identity that had insurance which would cover the treatment. And it had to be an identity they could discard later on.
Nate hated himself for thinking about these things now of all times. But he couldn't help how his mind had adapted to thinking about them as a team, trying to figure out the best way to get all of them out of a situation unscathed. It didn't mean he wasn't worried. On the contrary. He only needed to look down at Eliot, to listen to his ragged, labored breathing, to feel the worry rise inside him. But it wasn't going to help Eliot, himself or the team if he let that worry take over. That was the brutal truth. So for now, he was simply going to do what he did best. He was going to rationalize, and keep the team together.
Nate gestured the paramedics over towards their position, and from then on it all was a blur.
Nate and Hardison made space for the paramedics, and Nate could only watch in complete bewilderment at the flurry of activities around the younger man. He was no stranger to seeing emergency medical treatment. He had seen enough of that during Sam's illness. And he knew that feeling of tension that surrounded the treatment of a critical situation compared to a non-critical one. The air felt somehow charged and strained when doctors reacted to a life-threatening situation, and it was the same kind of tension Nate was feeling right now.
He could only stand back and stare as the paramedics treated to Eliot. To his left, Hardison was mirroring his silent stare down at their fallen team member, the hands hanging loosely at his side still covered in Eliot's blood. Sophie was standing to his other side, holding on tightly to Nate's right arm, even though for the life of him he couldn't have said whether it was to ground herself or in an attempt to comfort him.
Before Nate had the chance to get a word of protest in, Eliot was loaded and secured on a stretcher and wheeled out into the waiting ambulance. All he was aware of was Sophie's shocked face when she got the first look at the amount of blood on the ground, and the siren of the ambulance driving off before he could even think about letting the paramedics know that he was going to ride with them.
"Nate?"
Sophie's voice was barely able to filter through the haze that started to settle in Nate's head. It was too much. Too many memories, too many questions as to whose fault it was, too much reality. This shouldn't have happened in a well-planned job. It would be so much easier to just let the haze take over and not struggle to keep it all together.
He could do with a drink right now.
"Nate?"
Nate blinked a few times and drew a deep breath before he turned to face Sophie and the rest of his team. They were looking to him for some sense of stability now, so he had to keep it together.
"Parker, grab whatever gear we have left in the house and get it into the car. Sophie, I need to know what cover story you told the 911 operator and the paramedics before they got here. We need to get our stories straight. Hardison, we need an ID with medical insurance for Eliot." The younger man turned a glassy stare towards Nate at that request, which made Nate wonder if his words had even penetrated. "Hardison? Did you hear me?"
Hardison blinked rapidly a few times, then he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I heard you. I…all identities have medical coverage. We can pick any of them."
Nate nodded, but the concern for Hardison didn't vanish entirely. As soon as they got to the hospital, he was going to make sure that the other man got checked out for shock. One team member down was already bad enough, he wasn't going to be that careless again and let another of them get hurt.
As he looked around, he noticed that Parker had already vanished from the garage, probably to get their equipment together and loaded up so that they could leave.
"Okay, then let's get going. Hardison, you might want to wash your hands before we leave."
In reflex, Hardison looked at his hands to see what Nate was talking about. His eyes widened when he realized that his hands were coated with blood, as if he hadn't even been aware of that fact before.
"God…" He grew a distinct grayish shade of pale from one moment to the next, and Nate saw him jerk just in time to take a step to the side before Hardison bent slightly at the waist and threw up the contents of his stomach. The vomit ended up splattering to the garage floor, and all over Sophie's brand new boots. To her credit, Sophie didn't even seem to notice. The worried lines on her face deepened and she determinedly reached for Hardison's arm, pulling him towards the back of the garage.
"Come on, there's a guest bathroom just down the hall." She turned back towards Nate. "We'll be out in a few minutes."
Nate nodded and watched as Sophie led a completely pliable Hardison back into the house. As soon as they arrived at the hospital, he was definitely going to make sure that Hardison was checked out.
Nate hated hospitals, but for now there was no avoiding them. If one of his team ended up there, that's where he was going to go. So he'd better get moving and see if Parker was finished with loading the car. It was only a matter of time before the paramedics or someone here at the party who had witnessed their arrival was going to call the police, and they needed to be gone by then. This was all complicated enough without having to deal with the police on top of everything else.
He really, really needed a drink right now.
TBC...
(Chapter 1)
Author: LittleFairy78
Fandom: Leverage
Rating: T due to some language and violence
Summary: Tag to "The Wedding Job". It takes some time for a lone wolf to get used to being part of a team. For Eliot Spencer, it might have taken too long to learn that there is nothing wrong with asking the people you work with for help.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Leverage. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made with this story.
Genre: Episode tag, slightly AU-ish concerning the end of the episode. Whump.
Spoilers: Everything up to "The Wedding Job" is fair game.
Chapter 2
The wedding was over, bride and groom were happily married and on their way to their honeymoon with an unexpected surprise waiting for them in the trunk of their car, Mrs. Moscone had made a quick exit and as expected, Mr. Moscone hadn't wasted any time in changing the pass codes to his offshore accounts so that his wife wouldn't get to the money.
Hardison had the codes, which meant that the job was over. Nate allowed himself a sip of wine and a few seconds to bask in the feeling of success that always came with a job well done. The team was assembled in the kitchen, all ready and set to leave. In fact, the only one who was still missing was Eliot, who hadn't yet returned from his trip to deposit the money in the young couple's car. Once he got back, they could pack up and leave, another job gone well.
Nate put the wineglass away and checked his watch with a frown.
What with everything that had happened, Mrs. Moscone's flight and listening in to the phone call that gave them access to the new pass codes he hadn't noticed, but Eliot had been gone for over fifteen minutes now. Much too long for a simple run to the car and back. There had been no distress call over Eliot's microphone, but still Nate couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Of course Eliot was more than capable of dealing with an attacker. If any of them were, it was Eliot. But even if there were still some Russian mobsters on the premises and Elliot had run into them, he'd have called it in to let the rest of the team know about it.
Something was wrong here.
Nate put his glass down and looked at the rest of the team.
"Anybody seen Eliot in the last few minutes?"
Sophie, Parker and Hardison exchanged glances, but they all conveyed the same message. No they hadn't.
"Damn it." Nate ran a hand through his hair, thinking frantically before he started speaking into his mic. "Eliot, where are you?"
But the only answer he got was silence over the earpiece.
"Eliot, answer me!"
"Nate, what's wrong?" Sophie asked with a frown. "I thought Eliot was here the whole time. He didn't call over the mic, not that I heard."
"He was here. I sent him out to deposit the money in the car, and he hasn't checked back in."
Hardison cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. "How long ago was that?"
"Fifteen minutes."
"Damn."
Nate wholeheartedly agreed with that statement. Something was wrong here. They needed to find Eliot, and fast.
"Sophie, Parker, check the ground floor and the garden. The wedding tent, everywhere. Hardison, you go outside through the garage, see if Eliot got caught up somewhere along the way. I'll circle around the house and meet you in front of the garage."
The team immediately dispersed through the house, and Nate hurried towards the front door to circle around to the garage. The Butcher and his two henchmen were safe and secured in a storage room in the basement, awaiting the arrival of the authorities that Nate was going to call on them as soon as they were away safely. They couldn't be the reason why Eliot had checked back in. But with the illustrious guest list, there were more bad guys on the premises right now than in the local police station's holding cells, so there simply was no telling. Eliot had been involved in many jobs before they had started working together, there was a very good possibility that he had met more people in this house than just the Butcher of Kiev before.
Nate wanted to slap himself for not making sure more thoroughly that something like this wasn't going to happen. The arrival of the Butcher had already come out of the blue and had jumbled their plans somewhat. This couldn't happen again. More thorough background checks, that's what they were going to do in the future. With all their pasts, it was a necessity to make sure that nobody involved in the jobs remembered them from another con in the past.
And if this turned out to be nothing but a fluke, if Eliot didn't check in because he was flirting with a girl or admiring Moscone's cars, there would be hell to pay.
But first they had to find him, of course. And once they knew what had happened, he would worry about how to deal with it. First things first. Find Eliot, finish the job, deal with everything later.
Nate left the house through the front door and turned to the left. The garage was on the side of the house, he'd only need to circle around to the left to get there. So far, there was nothing suspicious. The occasional throng of guests was milling around, but with the newlywed couple off to their honeymoon and the father of the bride otherwise occupied, the celebration had pretty much died down by now.
Nate was halfway around the house when he suddenly heard Hardison's voice through his earpiece, and the tone of voice alone was enough to realize that something was seriously wrong.
"Nate, we have a problem."
"Did you find Eliot?"
"Yeah, he's in the garage. We need an ambulance."
Nate started running. He didn't care what he had to look like, running past the house in his minister's clothes. Hardison's words had him worried. He knew the other man wouldn't mention calling an ambulance if they could deal with the injury on their own. Involving a hospital stay could endanger the job, Hardison knew that. He wouldn't mention an ambulance if he didn't think they needed one. Besides, right now Nate didn't care. His people were more important than the job.
"Sophie, did you hear that?"
"Calling an ambulance now," her voice came over the earpiece. "What shall I tell them?"
"Hardison, talk to me."
"He's losing a lot of blood," the computer expert said, his voice tight and worried. "He's not conscious, and his breathing is kinda flat. Looks like he tried to bandage the wound himself, but I have no idea what happened."
The Butcher had happened, Nate was sure of that. Which led to the question why Eliot had not told him about the injury earlier, when they had been alone in the kitchen. Another thing to worry about later.
"The ambulance is on its way." Sophie relayed a few moments later. Nate nodded, mind frantically going through their next steps. Considering the standard response times, the ambulance would be here in less than ten minutes. And even though the party was pretty much dying down around them, the arrival of paramedics was going to cause a bit of a stir. They didn't need any additional attention on them right now.
"Sophie, Parker, I want you to clear things for the arrival of the ambulance. Moscone should be otherwise occupied, but make sure that he doesn't notice what's going on. The last thing we need right now is for him to get suspicious of us."
Nate hated to think of the job right now, when he didn't even know what was going on with Eliot yet. But that was part of what they were doing - they had the team to consider. And he was the one who was holding the team together. If anybody needed to detach himself and consider the situation as a whole and not just the most urgent problem, it was him.
"Okay." Maybe he just imagined it, but Sophie's voice sounded as if she understood why he was giving that particular order. "Parker, meet me in the kitchen."
"On my way."
Knowing that the two women would take care of that, Nate tuned out thoughts about Moscone and the stir the arrival of an ambulance was going to cause. Now it was time to figure out just how bad things stood about Eliot. Finally, Nate reached the outer garage door and quickly pulled it open. The spacious room behind was brightly lit, the glare from the spotlights reflecting in the windshields of the cars. But no trace of either Hardison or Eliot anywhere.
"Hardison!"
"Over here!"
The call had come from Nate's right, from behind one of the parked limousines. As he got closer, Nate saw what he first thought was a slightly discolored stain on the wall. Only when he got close did he realize that it was a smear of blood, roughly the shape and size of a hand. Heart beating fast in his chest, Nate sprinted around the car.
And froze.
Hardison was kneeling on the ground, looking up at the sound of Nate's approach. Despite his dark skin tone, the younger man looked pale, and his eyes were wide as he looked up at his boss. Hardison had taken off the colorful scarf he had been wearing as part of his DJ-outfit and was pressing it against Eliot's side with both hands.
Eliot.
Now there was the real reason why Nate had frozen on the spot. If Hardison was pale, Eliot was positively white. And limp. His eyes were closed, he wasn't moving, and there was blood soaking through his shirt and the scarf Hardison was pressing against the wound. For a moment Nate simply stared, then he crossed the remaining distance and knelt down beside the two men.
"How bad is it?" He asked, even though one look at the amount of blood already told him enough about the seriousness of the situation.
Hardison shook his head. "I'm not a doctor, Nate. That much blood? That can't be good, that's all I know."
And Nate could only agree wholeheartedly. That amount of blood definitely wasn't good. And even though it seemed as if Hardison's pressure bandage was controlling the bleeding by now, Nate could not quite push away the nagging thought that maybe it was simply because Eliot had already lost too much blood to still be bleeding heavily.
Why hadn't he said anything earlier?
That was the question it all came back to. Nate was sure that the wound was the Butcher's work. But they had been alone in the kitchen earlier. So why hadn't Eliot mentioned that he was hurt then? They could have gotten him to the hospital with time to spare, before things got as critical as they seemed now. And they would have had time to make up a story as to what had happened to Eliot.
But fact was Eliot hadn't said a word about his injury.
Instead, he had obviously tried to take care of it himself. From what Nate could see under the scarf Hardison was still pressing against Eliot's side, the younger man had put a makeshift pressure bandage on the wound. Nate knew that Eliot was well-versed in field triage, and dealing with wounds. Hell, he had stitched up Nate after that bank job had nearly gone to hell. But especially Eliot should have known that the wound needed professional care, and that he wasn't going to be able to finish the job in this condition.
Later.
All those questions would have to wait until later. Right now, they needed to make sure Eliot stayed alive to answer them.
Nate reached up and pressed two fingers against Eliot's jugular. The younger man's skin was cold and clammy, and the pulse Nate found beating against his fingers was weak and too thready for his liking. But it was still there, that at least was something.
"Ambulance is on its way?" Hardison asked, even though he must have heard their earlier conversation over his earpiece.
"Yeah, they should be here soon. Sophie and Parker are taking care of everything outside."
"They better hurry," Hardison mumbled, and Nate knew that he wasn't talking about their two teammates. "Damn it Nate, what happened?"
Nate shifted around so that he could keep an eye on both, Eliot and the garage door. Feeling Hardison's gaze on him, he shrugged slightly.
"My best guess right now is the Butcher."
Hardison shook his head, the muscles in his arms tensing as he shifted slightly and reapplied pressure onto the wound.
"Man, that doesn't make no sense. If the Butcher got him, why didn't he call for help? He's still wearing his earwig, he only needed to say the word. Why didn't he call us, Nate?"
"I don't know," Nate sighed.
And he didn't know for sure, but he had a very good idea.
Eliot was essentially a lone wolf.
They all were, to a degree, but none of them as much as Eliot. It had been like that even back when Nate had still considered himself to be standing on the other side. Back when he had chased every member of his team at least once.
Sophie had always been in it for her personal gain, for the money, the artwork, for the pleasure of the knowledge that she owned things she wasn't supposed to be owning.
Parker did it for the thrill. Of course money paid a role. Money always paid a role, for all of them. But for Parker, it was the thrill of the act of stealing that did it.
And Hardison - well. Computer fraud wasn't exactly a team crime, either.
So they all weren't team players by default. But Eliot was playing in a different league altogether. In Eliot's earlier jobs, he had only ever relied on himself to come out unscathed. And it hadn't merely been his freedom that had been at stake in case he screwed up. Eliot always risked his life for the jobs he had taken on, with no safety net to fall back on, and nobody on the sidelines looking out for him.
Eliot wasn't used to calling for help because he wasn't used to have someone who was actually there to back him up. And Nate didn't think that they had been working together for long enough. Not long enough for Eliot to change something as integral to him as the idea that he was fighting alone.
Nate didn't share any of these thoughts with Hardison as they waited for the ambulance to arrive. Now wasn't the time, and Hardison wasn't the right person for this. Not now, when he still had both his hands pressed against Eliot's wound in an attempt to still the other man's bleeding. But it was definitely something Nate wasn't going to be able to ignore for much longer.
It had sounded so easy, forming a team out of the four of them, combining their respective skills to orchestrate the jobs. Take the best of each of them and put it together in a way so that the bad guys didn't know what hit them until it was too late. And it had been easy, until now. Too easy, and maybe that realization came too late.
Nate only hoped it wasn't too late.
The ambulance response time was good, way beyond the ten minutes Nate had estimated, and secretly feared. Maybe six minutes since Sophie had called them, it was hard to tell. But no matter how many minutes, it seemed endlessly long until the door to the garage burst open again and two paramedics came through. They were followed closely by Parker and Sophie, the latter of which was talking to one of the medics, gesturing exuberantly as she hurried alongside him.
Nate would have to ask her for the cover story she was giving to the paramedics as soon as they were on the way to the hospital. And they would have to find an identity for Eliot that they could put on the hospital admittance forms. He would need to talk to Hardison about that. The computer expert was the one who had created their various aliases, and for this they needed an identity that had insurance which would cover the treatment. And it had to be an identity they could discard later on.
Nate hated himself for thinking about these things now of all times. But he couldn't help how his mind had adapted to thinking about them as a team, trying to figure out the best way to get all of them out of a situation unscathed. It didn't mean he wasn't worried. On the contrary. He only needed to look down at Eliot, to listen to his ragged, labored breathing, to feel the worry rise inside him. But it wasn't going to help Eliot, himself or the team if he let that worry take over. That was the brutal truth. So for now, he was simply going to do what he did best. He was going to rationalize, and keep the team together.
Nate gestured the paramedics over towards their position, and from then on it all was a blur.
Nate and Hardison made space for the paramedics, and Nate could only watch in complete bewilderment at the flurry of activities around the younger man. He was no stranger to seeing emergency medical treatment. He had seen enough of that during Sam's illness. And he knew that feeling of tension that surrounded the treatment of a critical situation compared to a non-critical one. The air felt somehow charged and strained when doctors reacted to a life-threatening situation, and it was the same kind of tension Nate was feeling right now.
He could only stand back and stare as the paramedics treated to Eliot. To his left, Hardison was mirroring his silent stare down at their fallen team member, the hands hanging loosely at his side still covered in Eliot's blood. Sophie was standing to his other side, holding on tightly to Nate's right arm, even though for the life of him he couldn't have said whether it was to ground herself or in an attempt to comfort him.
Before Nate had the chance to get a word of protest in, Eliot was loaded and secured on a stretcher and wheeled out into the waiting ambulance. All he was aware of was Sophie's shocked face when she got the first look at the amount of blood on the ground, and the siren of the ambulance driving off before he could even think about letting the paramedics know that he was going to ride with them.
"Nate?"
Sophie's voice was barely able to filter through the haze that started to settle in Nate's head. It was too much. Too many memories, too many questions as to whose fault it was, too much reality. This shouldn't have happened in a well-planned job. It would be so much easier to just let the haze take over and not struggle to keep it all together.
He could do with a drink right now.
"Nate?"
Nate blinked a few times and drew a deep breath before he turned to face Sophie and the rest of his team. They were looking to him for some sense of stability now, so he had to keep it together.
"Parker, grab whatever gear we have left in the house and get it into the car. Sophie, I need to know what cover story you told the 911 operator and the paramedics before they got here. We need to get our stories straight. Hardison, we need an ID with medical insurance for Eliot." The younger man turned a glassy stare towards Nate at that request, which made Nate wonder if his words had even penetrated. "Hardison? Did you hear me?"
Hardison blinked rapidly a few times, then he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I heard you. I…all identities have medical coverage. We can pick any of them."
Nate nodded, but the concern for Hardison didn't vanish entirely. As soon as they got to the hospital, he was going to make sure that the other man got checked out for shock. One team member down was already bad enough, he wasn't going to be that careless again and let another of them get hurt.
As he looked around, he noticed that Parker had already vanished from the garage, probably to get their equipment together and loaded up so that they could leave.
"Okay, then let's get going. Hardison, you might want to wash your hands before we leave."
In reflex, Hardison looked at his hands to see what Nate was talking about. His eyes widened when he realized that his hands were coated with blood, as if he hadn't even been aware of that fact before.
"God…" He grew a distinct grayish shade of pale from one moment to the next, and Nate saw him jerk just in time to take a step to the side before Hardison bent slightly at the waist and threw up the contents of his stomach. The vomit ended up splattering to the garage floor, and all over Sophie's brand new boots. To her credit, Sophie didn't even seem to notice. The worried lines on her face deepened and she determinedly reached for Hardison's arm, pulling him towards the back of the garage.
"Come on, there's a guest bathroom just down the hall." She turned back towards Nate. "We'll be out in a few minutes."
Nate nodded and watched as Sophie led a completely pliable Hardison back into the house. As soon as they arrived at the hospital, he was definitely going to make sure that Hardison was checked out.
Nate hated hospitals, but for now there was no avoiding them. If one of his team ended up there, that's where he was going to go. So he'd better get moving and see if Parker was finished with loading the car. It was only a matter of time before the paramedics or someone here at the party who had witnessed their arrival was going to call the police, and they needed to be gone by then. This was all complicated enough without having to deal with the police on top of everything else.
He really, really needed a drink right now.
TBC...
(Chapter 1)