I hope there's still someone out there reading this? I thank you for your continued patience – from the bottom of my heart.

THANK YOU to the ever-patient Valawenel for her constant guidance and ever-timely advice. Everyday is a learning day with you, my friend. I'm truly grateful for the 'virtual' boot up the ass you delivered to get me writing again.

All the usual disclaimers; none of the people you recognize belong to me, and I don't earn a bean from these mad ramblings. Any mistakes are mine alone.

Flashback to previous Chapter:

Parker didn't need to hear the doctor's latest update first-hand; she knew that Eliot was going to be all right. He was the strongest person she knew, ever, in the whole wide world. She couldn't bear to consider any other outcome. She needed him, he looked out for her; he was the closest friend she'd ever had. All these days and nights she sat next to his bed waiting, first for movement, or in the waiting room awaiting updates, and Parker was worn out. But there was no way she was leaving again. Eliot Spencer had only bloody gone and woken up while she was eating. Right when she needed to be there for him, she was filling her stomach, she couldn't believe the cruel irony of it all. He should never have woken alone and he wouldn't be waking next time without her being there.

She could see the others talking after the doctor left; no doubt they were plotting the next way to get her away and ensure she got some sleep.

Damn that noise too; Parker growled at the oxygen and it's compressed, hissing noise that it continually made. She knew it was vital for Eliot, and it was the fact it was required in the first place that made her cross. Feeling herself grow angry, she decided it was time to calm down before the others came back in, with their next game plan, no doubt. Didn't they realize that not only did she need to be here; she wanted to be here for Eliot. She just didn't want him being alone. Nobody wanted to be alone. However, she couldn't help the feeling that Eliot Spencer had been alone for all his life.

Looking back down towards her friend as he lay among numerous pillows, covered only to his waist by crisp cotton sheets and a thick, soft comforter, she couldn't help but notice how much gentler and younger Eliot seemed while he was sleeping. The nights she'd stood guard over him while he fought off his inner demons, he'd always seemed so intense, even in slumber. Here, he was at least getting some sleep, albeit medicated, but that had to be better than nothing.

She worried about his constant stark pallor, which seemed harsh in contrast to the softness of all the bedding he was ensconced in. His eyes were sunken in deep dark recesses, and she was desperate to see his bright blue eyes again. Reaching over, she tucked his hair back from his sweaty forehead. There were many symptoms they were watching out for, so many things that could still interfere with his recovery, and although it would take a great deal of physical therapy to get Eliot's lungs back to their best functioning level – everyone was confident that would be good news to the muscular man.

#

#

+++++ Leverage +++++

#

#

Urging himself to settle back into the comfort of his surroundings, Eliot knew that despite the weakness he felt, that they were all safe and secure. The team had taken every precaution they possibly could to protect him from outside interference. For a change, he could bask in the knowledge that he had backup. A comfort he hadn't known since his Army days. One of the major benefits of being part of a team; he could actually take time to recover from any injuries he sustained along the way. He had a deep cover alias, courtesy of Hardison: his bills were being paid, and importantly there was no need for him to sneak away afterwards. He could take solace in recovering in the comfort of his own home, with regular physiotherapy sessions for his lung function. Unlike his mistreatment during, and after, his little sojourn into Myanmar in search of that darn illusive monkey. Being part of a team, especially this team, which was morphing more and more into a family, he knew he could stay secure enough to take his time healing. The simple security of knowing that his electronic footprint was in Hardison's very capable hands; Sophie and Nate were dealing with Captain Bonnano and the doctors respectively. And Parker, well, Parker was sticking closely to him, all of which helped him to relax more than he had in years.

A smile came to his face at the thought of having the flighty blonde so invested in his welfare; it was a warming thought. More so after years of cutting himself off from any form of emotional attachment when it came to the fairer sex; aside from the gratification that he sought from time to time with many a young woman over the years, no one had even come close to warming his heart the same way as Aimee had all those years ago.

He could hear the team talking by the door, not what they were saying, but more the comfort of their muted voices offered. Feeling a warmth flood through him, one he would usually have attributed to the opioids floating through his system, instead he realized that it was due to the warm pair of hands currently holding his own. Feeling his eyes droop further closed, he allowed himself to slip back into the arms of Morpheus.

#

#

+++++ Leverage +++++

#

#

"That's it, Sparky, go back to sleep. I know you're tired, you haven't slept properly for days." Parker spoke softly and a little slower than was entirely usual for her, "You've got to look after yourself better, or maybe let us look after you for a while."

Taking his left hand between hers, she laid it upon her own left hand, palm to palm, and hooked her thumb around his. She used her right hand to tenderly stroke the back of his huge hand. Caught up in her thoughts, Parker considered how soft his hands were, especially given considering the many different uses his hands were put to.

Glancing towards the sleeping man's face, she watched with pleasure the passive smile he wore. He looked positively peaceful, and it was remarkable how much younger he actually looked when his face was relaxed. Invariably it would be rare to witness anything other than the mask he wore to work; the particular one he adorned when they were knee deep in a job, and he was being hyper vigilant over their security and safety.

Whatever the reason, his features appeared harsher. Though tonight, she was hard pushed to see how he managed it. At work he rarely had cause for smiling, unless it was for the client; and only then it was to put them at ease. Children were the only sure fire way to get a rapid smile on his face, no matter how tough the persona of the hitter appeared. It was obvious to even the most casual of observers that he loved children, and from the few interactions they'd had with younger clients, it was clear that Eliot Spencer would be an amazing father.

"Woah…where did that come from?" Parker asked herself out loud. Why did she have to enter that thought into her mind?

The others had been at the door, discussing logistics for overnight and even though their quiet voices didn't capture her attention, she knew what they were talking about. However, she was concentrating on the patient and waiting once more to see those sparkling blue eyes open and smile for her.

The sound of a quiet door opening behind her back showed Parker it was Sophie that entered the room, not Nate or Hardison.

She knew that the British lady was curious about her outpouring of feelings; feelings that she had never shown in abundance prior to this week. Plus it didn't require the skills of a grifter to see that things had changed between her and Eliot. Maybe only in her mind, but the tender kiss he'd placed on her forehead before she left his cell that very cold night, confirmed it for her. The tenderness of it all would usually have spooked Parker into running, or stabbing him with a fork. Somehow, he had her utter trust and she would never shy from him. Not that Parker would have shied from Hardison; there just hadn't ever been a connection past serious friendship. Thankfully, when she had spoken with the hacker, he had understood her position and assured her they would always have that friendship.

Parker knew that Sophie had also talked with Hardison about his feelings, and it appeared he understood that Parker had never been as fully invested in the type of relationship he'd truly hoped for. There would be no hard feelings, even he had commented on the difference in her emotional attachment to Eliot.

"Hi Parker, how's he doing?" Sophie spoke softly, clearly not wanting to disturb the young man in the hospital bed.

"Still sleeping. Doc said that was for the best though, right?" she replied.

"Yes of course," Sophie assured her, "all his levels are steady and his breathing has greatly improved. The doctors are satisfied that he will make a complete recovery." The grifter hesitated a moment, and Parker waited for her to continue. "The recent damage is not going to cause too much extra trouble for him, unless he contracts a serious cold or flu, or ended up with such a drenching that pneumonia would be a very real possibility. Though, we will have to monitor him from afar in the future." Sophie smiled and paused. "I heard Nate and the doctor discussing it. Eavesdropping, you could say."

"Good. Though I just wish he'd wake up, then everyone would get back to normal." Parker confided.

"It's only natural that we're all on edge. We're worried about him, Parker; of course things will be better when he's back up and about."

"I understand you all worrying about him, he's in the hospital bed," she added before turning to face the brunette. "But you've all been watching me too, and I'm fine."

"Oh, sweetheart, that wasn't our intention. Naturally we've also been a bit worried about you," Sophie affirmed.

"Why?"

"Eliot was in a bad way, and you were there, you saw everything at its worst. His injuries were horrific, and you seemed more shaken than we had ever seen you," Sophie changed tact, as her hand gently stroked Parker's arm. "Would it be fair to say that your feelings towards Eliot have changed lately?"

"Yes, I think they have." Parker turned to Sophie, the closest thing she had ever had to a mother-figure in her life. "I thought it was right - what I felt for Hardison, but it wasn't; and the more time I spent with Eliot, I started to realize how I was feeling about him… and the more I began to understood how I should have been feeling towards Hardison all along." Parker blurted it all out so quickly, like a dam had broken. "I knew it wasn't fair on Hardison, I couldn't stay with him when I didn't feel anything more than friendship for him."

"I know, darling; it's never easy. Have you talked with him yet?"

"Yes, we talked the night before the job went sideways."

"And what about Eliot? Have you talked to him about how you feel yet?"

"No, I don't think he thinks of me that way, Sophie. I don't want to hurt anyone else without knowing either way. This way at least I get to care for him as a friend, and I know we're friends." Parker was horrified at the thought of telling Eliot how she felt, especially when she couldn't work out how she felt herself.

"I understand. Although I don't think you have anything to worry about, Parker, I think you'll find things will be very different once Eliot is back with us from his heavy slumber."

"Do you think he could like me?" her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

A huge smile broke out across Sophie's face. "Oh, darling, of course he could. You're beautiful, and you're you, Parker." Sophie took her free hand in her own, still sparking that smile. "Now, why don't we wait and see what happens when sleeping beauty wakes up."

#

#

+++++ Leverage +++++

#

#

He felt warm, dry and oddly serene. Without even opening his eyes he remembered that he was safe in his comfy bed. Yet again it didn't let him rest long, as the room was once more transformed into the cluster of bombed out buildings, complete with dust and debris. The usual stench that offended his nose caused him to flinch, and the sound of small arms fire thumped in the background ….before the scene changed once again, this time to a place that was instantly recognizable, terror loomed and his breath felt icier with each breath he took. Frozen in an unconceivable fear Eliot Spencer found himself once more thrust back into a battle he'd long since lost.

Diving headlong into the same re-running battle with that bastard Serbian who had hidden behind his own soldiers; Spencer used a succession of arms until each were emptied in the direction of the bad guys.

The dream continued to play out as always; he was knocked out and dragged by his captors. They had told him that it was days since his capture, and that he'd been unconscious several times. Although their English was even sketchier than his memory, something in the back of his mind told him that they weren't lying.

Looking around he noted several things. Importantly, his team was unaccounted for thus far, possibly even annihilated. It seemed he was alone again. Their mission had been the key to breaking this murderous rampage, and he and his team were charged with gathering the pertinent morsels of intelligence that would break this 'action' wide open. Those pieces of final Intel, which was thankfully ensconced safely in his head, would be worth nothing if he couldn't get the information back to his superiors.

He knew that his penance was to constantly relive these dreams night after night. It was his punishment as he saw it. A punishment so severe that it was befitting of the man who had failed humanity in this corner of Europe. As always he hoped this would be his final visit to this place in time, back where he stood alone against so many.

Finally, to permit himself relinquishing the blame he'd carried, he risked opening his eyes to see how he would be punished this very night. The usual dread seized him as he found himself once more shackled to a wall in that godforsaken cave.

Damp soiled earth and dust beneath his feet and torn uniform. He inspected each wrist, all the while trying to test how much movement he could achieve between the chains that restrained him to the wall. With his left hand bloody and so swollen it felt numb, he was aware of cold, iron clasps locked across each wrist: there was the matter of the iron chain fixing him in place. His right side was similarly restrained. A satisfactory smirk came to mind, as he noticed how bruised and bloodied his knuckles were; it would appear he had swung his way through the final men before his capture.

Where were the rest of his team? Scattered he hoped; ruthlessly outnumbered more likely. Surreptitiously glancing around he failed to see another living soul; they couldn't all be dead. Or could they?

Angry sounds and the stench of rotting, infected flesh permeated his nostrils rousing him, almost thankfully, seconds before a torrent of ice cold water pelted him from his right side. When he tried to turn, a brutal hand grabbed his hair and forced his head backwards into the wall. Waking once more he found himself shackled to a chair, his hair wrenched in order to divert his glassy eyes at the leader he'd encountered previously. That was one face he would never forget; that bastard would pay, several lifetimes over if it were at all possible.

"You will serve us to exchange for weapons Sgt Spencer, First Class ha ha ha," mocked the brutal Serbian in broken English; Drago Mladic, Serbian Liberation Army Leader. "Then we deliver the bodies of your dead team, Mister Spencer."

Pausing for more posturing bravado in front of the other mercenaries, the Serb laughed heartily at whatever face Eliot's face had involuntarily made. "I think US military will not be happy with you much for this, no? We would be executed in our Army for such poor protection of our own team."

Pain was his last memory. Jerking awake he was this time standing in the middle of another damn cave. A boot slammed into the back of Eliot's knees forcing him to kneel while that Mladic bastard kept hold of his hair. Clumps of hair were torn out and his shoulders forced backwards by the chains holding his wrists. Dribbling and sneering into his ear, Mladic insisted that Eliot know precisely what had befallen each and every one of his team that night.

"The black one cried out for бака…grandmother. For sure she will be glad that her weak boy has been sent to meet maker!" More laughter followed this. Shoving Eliot's face away from his, he pulled out a knife before slicing up the back of the US battle dress; not caring what skin he caught while doing so.

Two more Serbs stepped forward, one stripped his remaining shirts from his bloodied body, and the other to hand over a long paddle typed instrument to whichever disturbed individual had been charged with his torture.

Before he could put too much thought into what instrument of torture was coming his way, he was whacked with the paddle causing puncture wounds from various rough tacks embedded in it; right into his already stricken shoulder. Twisting them to cause the most amounts of pain and damage possible, Drago laughed as Eliot cursed and spat out blood from his bitten tongue, rather than scream and give into this sick and twisted sadist's little ritual.

The self appointed Serbian Leader seemed disappointed that his captor would not break so easily, and instead he opted to use his knife instead. He sliced gleefully into Eliot's torso. By making some deeper than others, he ensured maximum damage, crisscrossing the other slash wounds so they could not be easily stitched nor heal efficiently.

After what seemed an eternity at the hands of his Serbian captor, Eliot felt himself grow weak, colder all of a sudden. He knew that his consciousness was failing; he tried to ask what Drago wanted before he passed out once more.

"Nothing Spencer, I don't want anything from you. That's the best part. I got you for fun." Off to the side he spotted a shock of brunette hair and the Jade coloured scarf Sophie had worn that day. He realized that he had failed his entire team; deeply despaired, he knew there would be no one to come for him.

"Bring the blonde bitch," called Mladic; that's when the knife wounds stopped and the paddle returned, this time into the back of his neck. Try as he might, Eliot could not help the primal scream that escaped his lips.

#

#

+++++ Leverage +++++

#

#

Eliot's body began to twitch, and though he wasn't thrashing around quite as desperately as Parker had seen him do previously, it wasn't a situation she wanted to let get any worse. The doctors had advised her to only wake him if he became too agitated or unsettled. There was always a chance he was having a nice dream, an active dream about someone, a good memory. Parker didn't want to disturb a pleasant memory.

In those moments while Parker debated whether to wake Eliot from his slumber or not, things deteriorated swiftly. Simultaneously, she noticed his movements were distinctly more severe, and his skin was instantly covered in perspiration. She reached out to calm his movement by stroking his forehead; just as the heart rate monitor began to shriek. The noise itself sent him into overdrive, causing him to thrash in erratic proportions.

"Eliot, we're here." Not truly knowing what to say, she opted for reassuring him that they were all safe. Who knows what he'd been dreaming about – what horror of war had he been dragged back into?

"Sparky, listen to me," Parker spoke up, tears streaming down her cheeks at the sight of her friend in such distress. "Don't make me sick Sophie on you!"

The blood curdling scream, and rapid movement into almost a sitting position, was most unlike the injured man with his labored movements of late. That was going to hurt like hell when he finally came round.

Thankfully after the scream had been expelled, Eliot slumped back against his pillows. She had managed to get through to him, though not before the nursing team rushed through the door. Seeing him begin to calm yet again under her touch was clearly enough for them. After a cursory check over their patient, and when the heart monitor settled down again, they left Parker armed with a wash cloth and warm water, content that their patient would indeed benefit under her calming touch.

It was only after a minute or two of deep, though shaky, and cleansing breaths that finally those blue eyes were on display for her to see. She watched him search around his surroundings and his eyes come back to settle upon her face. Smiling softly, she continued to stroke the damp hair back off his forehead and hold his hand with renewed vigor.

"Hey Sparky."

"Hey…" He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry, "….water?"

"Oh, yep, of course." Moving away from her ministrations, Parker poured some fresh water into his cup and brought the straw in it to his lips.

When he'd finished taking his fill, he released the straw.

"Others?" His scan of the room had not satisfied his worry for the others. Thankfully Parker could rectify that immediately.

With a bight smile on her face, she touched her ear, instantly summoning the others, and held the earpiece towards Eliot so they could all say hello quickly. The smile on his face was worth anything. She was beginning to hope she could keep it there.

"How long?"

"A couple more hours… this time," she paused, unsure of what Nate might have told him. Opting for the simple truth this time, she continued. "It's been two days since we found you in that cell." She felt the color drain from her own face as she recalled the cell and finding Eliot sprawled across the floor, fighting to draw breath.

"Mason…of course. The cell." Eliot clearly sensed her mood deflate, "You…okay?"

"Fine, it's you in the hospital bed." Parker countered, still concerned by the noises the hitter made trying to simply breathe.

"Hey, m'okay… P'ker." He gulped in air, trying to make up for the little he'd exerted speaking.

"I'm going to get the nurse." She turned to leave. Before she could leave the room Eliot once again demanded her attention.

"T..nk you… P'ker." His eyes slipped closed and the sheen returned across his face.

#

#

+++++ Leverage +++++

#

#

After the nursing team and doctors had given Eliot the once over, Parker returned to his bedside. The patient was settled upon fresh bedding, his bandages renewed and he was propped up at about a 45-degree angle against his pile of pillows.

Several moments passed in relative silence, Parker listened while Eliot concentrated on regaining control over his breathing. With all the movement of inspecting his injuries, there was no doubt that the cowboy would have been in pain. Getting him to admit it might just be another matter entirely!

"You're thinking…..awful loudly, P'ker." The words brought an instant smile to her face. She'd been sitting beside his bed while he settled back down after the discomfort of being moved about.

Shaking her head, she decided that she would remind Eliot that he was in a team, as he'd rebuked her on previous occasions. "That means we look out for each other, remember Eliot?"

"I know darlin', doesn't make it any better for what you saw."

"What do you remember?" Parker redirected.

"I remember Mason storming in, and one of his goons distracted me while I was chucking up the water they'd forced down my throat. He injected me with something, then I remember not being able to take a breath." Looking up with glistening eyes, he locked them onto her own pale blue orbs, "I was scared, first time in years since I've been scared of anything. You kept me going in there, Parker, you really did."

Embarrassed by Eliot's outpouring and the depth of feeling that was passing between them, Parker felt her face flush. Subconsciously she touched her hand to the side of her face, she could feel the heat radiating from her flushed cheek as she sat back down. She could no more break the connection between their eyes than she had actually wanted to. Eliot was clearly in no hurry for their moment to pass either.

Parker was beginning to realize what all those pointless movies had been about; being on the receiving end of that one glance from a special someone. The one where they supposedly saw right into your soul and connected with you on an entirely different level. That one. That very one she was feeling, right now.

"Parker, shut that ear piece off, please?" asked Eliot as he shuffled to get himself more comfortable against the mountain of pillows, without moving his chest where possible.

"Guys, Eliot is going back to sleep, and I might catch a nap too, going to shut this off for a while," she announced to the others attached to their comms. Placing it into her pocket she went to sit back down.

"C'mere darlin', and sit down." Eliot patted the side of his bed, close to his wounded chest. Parker hopped up with her usual grace, managing not to dislodge the injured man or his mattress.

"How do you feel, Eliot? I know I sometimes ask stupid questions, but surely you must be in pain?" Parker was concerned about the serious face her friend wore all of a sudden.

"I won't lie to you Parker; my chest hurts, it's gonna hurt for a little bit, though I'll be right as rain in no time at all." He was clearly trying to reassure her, though he had yet to manage that. She noticed the machine beep as his heart rate intensified, and try as he visibly might, there seemed to be little he could do to get a grip on the situation.

"Should I get the nurse?" Parker made to leave, when Eliot's hand appeared upon her thigh. She was not fond of contact, though this had never once been an issue between them; after all, she trusted him implicitly.

"No, first…" He was by now visibly paler, absentmindedly rubbing at the bandages that covered his chest, as he lay propped up against his pillows. "I want to….say thank…you, for….everything."

She shook her head to disagree, but before she could speak, Eliot shushed her and grasped her hand tightly in his. "Before….things went bad….you came for ….me." She felt him pull her closer, surely not now; he could barely breath. "Thank…you darlin'."

One hand held hers tightly, while the other one stroked the side of her face. She couldn't help but to lean into his warming touch. For the first time in her life, Parker realized, at that moment, what it must have been like to feel adored. Yes, she was a world-class thief, but she was also a woman.

Placing the oxygen mask on his face seemed to only infuriate the hitter, but it was hard to listen while he struggled to breathe again. The nurse came once more and confirmed that the patient should take some time on oxygen before he tried to carry out a lengthy conversation.

When the nurse left, Parker moved closer towards the bed. Spotting her friend's eyes open, she retook her place up on the bed next to his chest. Taking his hand in hers, she caressed and held it, ensuring that he knew she was there. She felt him gripping her hand more firmly, and when he finally turned his head towards her, she could see that his eyes were wet. Leaning over to sweep his hair back off his forehead, she rested her palm against the side of his face. Surprised when he leaned into her touch.

"You're welcome, Eliot." Leaning further towards him she placed a kiss on his forehead, "Get some rest, I'll be right here when you wake up."

He held her hand in place against his face. It felt like he was drawing heat from her palm. Parker realized how cold he'd been in that cell and maybe he was still feeling cold.

"Are you still cold?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head in response, holding her hand back to his face.

Things had definitely changed, Parker smiled; leaning forward, she kissed the hitters forehead once more. Then she lay down beside him, stroking his arm and hoping he'd take this chance to get some rest. It would help his breathing to have a few undisturbed hours with the oxygen mask on.

A/N : One more chapter to go with this story, and I'm working on it now. I hope to have it with you within a fortnight. Thank you once more to anyone still reading this.