A/N: I'm not going to talk about how long this chapter is (over 3k words, fyi). I'm not going to talk about how late it is (1am) or how effin HARD I fought to make this chapter happen (hint: really really hard). Not gonna tell you about the bruises I have from the plot bunnies kickin my butt or even about how I spent fifteen minutes on the last three paragraphs alone and am still not totally sure I got it completely right. All I'm gonna tell ya' is that whimseyrhodes is my hero and my bud and my sista from anotha' mista and my tweep and she's Awesomsauce on an EpicEnchilada and this is for her. I'm going to tell you that I really hope you like this last update and I hope to hear from you. Also, I'm going to tell you to: Enjoy! -pj

A Beautiful Mess by Jason Mraz

Disclaimer: No. They're not mine. Neither is whimseyrhodes, the furchins, the dustbuster or any music mentioned in this fic. Thanks

Chapter Five- A Beautiful Mess

The hospital had been hell.

Eliot didn't like them to begin with, Parker 'nothing'ed them, Hardison thought they were creepy, Sophie found them romantic and Nate refused to set foot in one unless he was on his third drink of the day at least.

The drugs they put Eliot on after the surgery made him lose touch with reality enough that he couldn't figure out where he was and not even Nate's commanding voice could cut through the fog.

After the third orderly he knocked flat on his ass refused to set foot in his room again the staff decided they had no choice but to put him in restraints.

And after the third time Parker cut said restraints and 'stole' him from the hospital so that Hardison had to track her down and Sophie convince her to put him back, the staff stopped allowing them in to see him.

Not that a little thing like hospital security could stop a group of the world's best thieves from doing exactly what they wanted, when they wanted.

They were all there the first time Eliot regained consciousness and was coherent enough to demand, loudly, to be let out of the leather cuffs tying him to the bed.

The staff had the good sense not to argue.

But he was out of the hospital now, back at 'home' in their apartment building with all the secret passages and escape routes and state-of-the-art security.

Still, things weren't back to normal yet.

A severe head injury, broken bones, deep bruises and lacerations and a right leg healing from extremely invasive surgery still gave him enough pain he didn't refuse a single painkiller Sophie shoved at him. And he was starting to go stir crazy from all the 'sit, don't move, don't talk' and 'I'll get that for you's that constantly seemed to be coming out of his team's mouths.

A week into his release, Eliot was ready to climb the walls - or punch someone in the throat - and kicked them all out for their own good under penalty of slow and painful death if any returned before the morning.

Begrudgingly, they all left and Eliot heaved a sigh of relief, relishing in the silence.

Ironically, it was that same silence that woke him two hours later.

oooOOOooo

Parker had never been trapped under a collapsed building, and going out and blowing one up for the experience seemed a little excessive, even for her.

But she couldn't know how to help Eliot if she didn't know what he'd been through. So she settled for this.

Parker lay completely motionless in the small dark space under her bed. The floor was cold and hard beneath her and the dust was nearly suffocating

Breathe in, breathe out. she repeated her mantra to Eliot now to herself. When she inhaled fully her chest almost touched the bottom of the bed. Her leg started to cramp up but her reflex to bend it and then stretch out was halted by movement restrictions of the small space.

That was when Parker started to understand. She wasn't one to be afraid of small spaces, rather liked them actually, but she couldn't move here. Couldn't breathe and couldn't see.

Her heart rate started to speed up and her hand tightened around Eliot's com until it started to bruise.

His com had been all he could hold onto then. Their voices in his head. Her voice.

She maneuvered one hand up until it was pressing against her ear, filling her head with static. No one else had their coms on.

Parker opened her eyes and stared up at the underbelly of her bed.

It was still dark. She didn't like this. Didn't like being alone and not able to move or breathe. She wanted out. She wanted someone there with her. She wanted someone to…

Then it hit her and immediately she was wiggling out from under her bed as fast as she could move. She had to get to Eliot, she knew what to do now.

She climbed to her feet and shoved Eliot's com in her jean's pocket while reaching for the lightswitch.

Nothing happened. She tried again with the same result.

She was really starting to hate this 'dark' thing.

oooOOOooo

Hardison blinked when his lights went out and his computer dimmed, indicating it was no longer under plug power.

Frowning, he got up and went to look out the window, he'd mostly tuned out the sound of the storm outside, but it was still hovering over head and rattling the windows with rain and thunder.

He glanced at the surrounding buildings, none of the lights were on in any of the windows, and the streetlamps were out.

Perfect.

The silence left from the fans and music going out were already pressing in around him and he closed his eyes, blowing out a deep breath.

Resisting the urge to dig his com out of his pocket and contact the others, Hardison went to the closet to find his old boom box and a flashlight.

oooOOOooo

Sophie had been pacing her small apartment for hours on end. To be perfectly honest the power outage had provided a welcome reprieve to the thoughts floating about in her head.

She really hadn't blamed Parker for the stunts she'd pulled at the hospital. She'd had similar thoughts herself, if not a bit more elegant, because leaving Eliot's side even for a moment seemed to take more out of her than she was able to give.

She just needed to see him, needed to make sure he was okay. She knew, of course, that they were smothering him and that was what made him kick them out earlier, but he didn't understand. Couldn't know what it had been like to hear him, one of their team, their family helpless and hurt beneath all that rubble.

Sophie's hand shook as she reached out with the match to light her candles, and she smiled self-depreciatingly.

"Keep it together, Sophie. He's out now." She shook her head, sliding the matches back into her kitchen drawer. "He's probably fine. He's Eliot Spencer for crying out loud, he's perfectly…perfect…even if he was trapped under a building and has always hated the dark and this whole wretched ordeal has probably brought memories back to the surface he would never even dream of talking about…"

She trailed off, staring into the flame flickering silently on her ornate white candle sticks.

"Oh hell with it," she muttered and blew them all out before grabbing them along with a deck of cards and heading for the door.

oooOOOooo

Eliot jerked awake, disoriented and in pain. He frowned and blinked a few times, but the darkness wouldn't dissipate. His heartbeat started to accelerate as he struggled to sit up on the couch without bending his torso, using his hand or moving his leg. Even then the pain was enough to make his stomach roll.

But his main concern was with the darkness and the fact that it wouldn't go away. It wouldn't be the first time his eyesight had decided to take a vacation because of a bad head injury, but he had hoped to never have a repeat performance.

The crack of thunder outside and a flash of lightning briefly lit the room, startling just as much as it relieved him.

At least his eyes were working.

But he took no solace in the fact and his heart rate didn't slow down. Instead his breathing started to come in short gasps that he forced into his lungs with feigned calm.

Who was he trying to fool? Three wars, countless prisons and one too many close calls had taught Eliot at least one thing, he knew a flashback when he had one.

Another crack of thunder far too close for comfort and the floor shook around him, vaulting him back into that shopping mall nearly three weeks before.

He could feel the floor giving way beneath him, the sound of creaking metal in his memory mingled with the flash of lightning and he could swear the walls were starting to come down.

Eliot flailed out blindly when the world tilted to the left, looking for anything to hold onto. He didn't want to fall down there again. He didn't want to be trapped again.

There was a slight pressure on his shoulder and Eliot nearly flew out of his skin, his eyes whipping up toward the ceiling to see how much of it had fallen.

He was almost confused when everything was still in tact.

"Eliot? Eliot you with me?"

The hitter blinked a few more times and realized the pressure he was feeling on both shoulders now, was coming from hands, not debris. And Nate's face came into focus in front of him.

He nodded. "Ye-" his voice gave out and Eliot struggled to swallow, wondering when his mouth had gone so dry.

"Yeah." He tried again, "I'm good."

Nate raised a disbelieving eyebrow and Eliot looked away, suddenly finding the silence of the apartment too much to bear, waiting apprehensively for another crack of thunder.

"What are you doing down here?" He asked, hoping to distract Nate and buy himself some time to get back under control.

"Powers out," Nate answered, thankfully standing to walk away a few feet. He pretended not to notice when Eliot closed his eyes again and took a few deep breaths before speaking.

"I noticed. Any idea when our landlord will have it back up again?" He asked, satisfied his voice wasn't shaking as badly.

"You can ask him yourself when he gets up here."

Eliot frowned, "he's coming up here? Why? What part of death don't you people-"

Just then there was a knock on his door, followed immediately by it opening and Hardison inviting himself in.

"I have arrived," the hacker announced with a big grin.

"Dammit Hardison, don't you have generators or something set up for stuff like this?" Eliot growled, a bit more edge in his tone than usual. It was still too damn dark.

Hardison ignored the tone entirely as he settled down on the couch beside Eliot.

"Yeah man, for my computers, but not the whole dang building," he put the small boom box he'd brought with him on the table and flicked it on, a severe weather advisory softly emanating from the speakers.

Eliot's glare on the man softened slightly, the silence a little easier to bear.

"What do-"

The question was cut off by the sound of the door opening again, this time without a knock having preceded it, and Parker appeared inside dressed in a black sweatpants and sweatshirt.

She barely glanced at any of them and walked over to the coffee table in front of Eliot.

The men looked on in surprised silence as the thief pulled candle after candle out of various, inexplicable places on her person, and began setting them up all over the coffee and end tables.

They listened to the calm voice of the weather report while she carefully, efficiently lit each one with a blue cigarette lighter.

Finally, when the entire small space around the couch was bathed in a soft yellow glow, she looked up, staring directly at Eliot.

She smiled, just a bit too wide for the situation.

"Better right?"

Eliot grunted, but he had to admit, his heart wasn't hammering so hard now that he could see for himself that the walls were standing steady and upright.

He gave a nearly imperceptible nod to the thief, who's grin brightened enough to light the entire room on it's own, and rounded the table to sit as close to Eliot as she could without actually hurting him. Another crack of thunder shook the building causing Eliot to tense up painfully and, seeing her chance, Parker leaned up and gently slipped her arms around his neck giving him a careful hug.

She felt Eliot relax and even hesitantly return the gesture and smiled, not pulling away until he did.

"I guess now we're only waiting on-"

Again there was a knock at the door and they all looked expectantly at Sophie when she poked her head in.

The grifter smiled slightly, seeing the already full living room, and came inside, locking the door behind her.

"Seems I'm a bit late for the party," she approached their circle of light and Eliot noticed she had two more half burned candles and a deck of cards.

Parker quickly relieved her of the candles, adding them to the others and Sophie tossed the deck in the air.

"Anyone for a game?"

"Yeah," Hardison nodded, taking the deck from her so she could pull her soft sweater around herself and she slide onto the loveseat beside Nate.

"How about poker?"

Three hands later, all of which Sophie had lost, much to everyone's surprise, Nate decided he was thirsty and disappeared into the kitchen. He came back a moment later with five glasses and a bottle of Jack, which Sophie immediately took away when he sat back down.

"You know Eliot can't have any of this with the pain meds he's on," she said in response to his disgruntled noise.

"So what, that means the rest of us have to suffer?" He asked, taking the bottle back. "Besides, it's not as if he's even taking those things."

"Of course he is," Sophie countered, "I've been giving them to him three times a day."

Parker's giggle made her stop and she turned to look at the other three. Hardison was studiously avoiding her gaze, rearranging the cards in his hand, and Eliot was picking at his cast, a small smirk on his lips.

"You wanker," Sophie exclaimed, "but how? I watch you take them."

Eliot finally looked up at her, a patient but amused, expression on his face.

"Sophie, when you've been in the business as long as I have, with as many enemies who have access to mind altering drugs, you learn a thing or two about making it look like you've taken something you haven't."

Hardison was now shaking his head and Parker smiled almost genuinely.

"You're adorable."

Sophie rolled her eyes and sighed, allowing Nate to pour the drinks and then helped him pass out the glasses.

"Fine. Have it your own way."

Eliot smiled and sipped his drink, "I usually do."

It wasn't until four more hands later that that Eliot began to wonder why Sophie had given up so easily.

"Sophie," Eliot dragged his eyes over to her, feeling his eyelids becoming heavy and his movements sluggish. "What'd you do?"

The grifter smiled innocently, ignored him and laid down her cards, "two pair."

"You still lose Soph," Hardison announced, but she shook her head.

"No, I don't think I do."

They all looked at her, and then followed her gaze to Eliot, who was practically sprawled across Parker on the couch. His head lolled back as he attempted to fight intense, drug-induced drowsiness.

"M' g'na may' you pah." Eliot slurred. Sophie just stood, pushed him back on the couch, which was much easier than it would have been otherwise, and smoothed his hair away from his forehead.

"Maybe so, but until then, get your rest tough guy." She patted his chest and Parker helped her pull a soft blanket from his room over his prone form, carefully elevating his injuries the way the doctor had instructed.

When they were finished they turned to look at the boys, all smiling.

Hardison raised his eyebrows and held up the deck, "again?"

Sophie threw one last look at Eliot, his face relaxed in sleep and no longer marred with the bruises and bandages from the hospital. She sighed contentedly.

"Yeah, lets go again."

Hardison dealt the cards and they settled in a circle bathed in candlelight, Eliot's soft snores mingling with the music now playing quietly over the stereo in the background.

As the night wore on the storm moved past, and they all dozed off. Inevitably, one would wake with a start, breathing harsh from a nightmare, and crane their neck to see the hitter, sometimes reaching out to touch his face or rearrange his blanket. Just to be sure it was real, still breathing and safe.

But each time they awoke to find him safe beside them, along with the rest of the team, the knot of worry in their stomachs would loosen, allowing them to fall back to sleep. As the hours passed the stirring decreased, exchanged for a sound sleep that none had experienced since the day Eliot was checked into the hospital.

And when the sun rose the next morning, it shone through the windows of Eliot's apartment, warming the five exhausted thieves all tangled up with one another and sleeping peacefully.

Finally.

END