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"We've got a problem," Parker announced.
Harry lifted his hand to his ear before correcting himself of the tell. "What's going on?" He was in the food truck with Breanna, having just finished playing carrot to Sophie's stick while Parker and Eliot broke into the mark's warehouse.
Parker groaned, annoyed, into the comm. "Eliot's been shot."
"Oh shit, is he-"
"He's fine," Parker interrupted sharply.
Eliot grunted confirmation.
"It's a clean through and through. But he's going to be so crabby this week and Quinn's out of town."
"The week? Also, Quinn?"
"One week for a bullet wound," Breanna recited from her seat in the food truck. She didn’t look up from whatever she was typing.
"And he's banned from the kitchen all week. Bed rest only."
"It's our... compromise," Eliot explained, his breathing becoming labored. Harry watched on the security feed Breanna had up as he allowed Parker to take some of his weight. They had a clear path to the door, so Harry wasn't too concerned about them making it out. Mostly just the bleeding out that was putting him on edge.
"I get cereal, he gets only one week," Parker agreed.
"Hey, y'all coming to the van or not? Because we have got to go," Breanna reminded, doing something computer-y to unlock the door the pair has stopped at.
"Coming," Eliot grunted.
Harry pointed at his comm and Breanna muted him. "Only a week?"
The hacker shrugged. "It's their weird negotiation. If Alec were here, it'd be two weeks."
"Huh. And who's Quinn?"
Brenna gave him a surprised look, but before she could answer, Parker and Eliot slammed into the back of the truck and Sophie took off.
As it turned out, Harry was quite good at holding supplies while Parker treated bullet wounds. He wanted to say it was his calm nature from the courtroom, but mostly he was mentally cosplaying (as Breanna would say) as a doctor on Grey's Anatomy. It was easier to pretend that Eliot was some random extra than... well, Eliot.
Parker seemed completely at ease though, although she was quieter and poked Eliot's bruises less than normal.
For his part, Eliot kept his gaze fixed straight ahead and his hands clenched around the arm rests of the second swivel chair in the back.
Parker finished her final stitch with a triumphant cut of the thread. "I'm calling Hardison," she announced, already reaching for Eliot's phone.
The hitter swatted her away with his uninjured arm. "Don't. He's in Syria right now, shouldn't be bothered."
Parker retrieved the phone anyway. "Then I'm calling Quinn."
The pair had a silent conversation, arguing over whether or not this Quinn person should be called, from what Harry could tell.
Parker must have won, because she punched in Eliot’s ten digit passcode, then scrolled through his recent calls. None of the numbers were saved with a contact.
"Do you memorize everyone's phone number?" Harry asked, impressed as he shamelessly looked over Parker's shoulder.
Eliot gave him a 'Duh' look, but remained silent as Parker hit the video call button for an unlisted number that had been contacted almost daily.
It became clear why Parker had called from Eliot's phone rather than her own fairly quickly: Eliot didn't FaceTime people. He called or, sometimes, texted.
"Eliot needs cuddles," Parker announced before the person who answered could say anything.
"Hey, Park," the man drawled. In the poor lighting, Harry could make out a blonde hair, white skin, and a broken nose. "El get himself shot?"
Parker nodded emphatically. It was strange seeing Parker go from Job Mode to Worried About My Partner Mode so quickly. Harry had long figured out that Parker, Eliot, and Hardison were together. Sure, it had taken a couple months of carefully asked questions and observation, but he'd done it mostly without anyone telling him. This new person... Harry didn't know what to make of him. His gut instinct said friend from the service, but Eliot only cuddled with two people as far as Harry was aware.
"Y'all heading back to base? I'm finishing up a job in Guadalajara and can be there in ten hours. Maybe eight."
"Yeah, he won't let us go home if Alec's not there."
"Damn right," Eliot muttered.
Quinn's face broke out into a slow grin. "Put our man on the phone?" he requested.
Parker passed over the device, pulling out her own. Harry saw her pull up Hardison's contact. Or at least, she pulled up 💚⌨⛟🦇💚, which seemed to be an emoji string that captured Hardison's essence. She sent '3.1' and then '6/7' before closing out of her messaging app.
In the meantime, Eliot had been answering questions about pain level and his attackers. From what Harry could tell, the hitter was being honest too.
Harry glanced at Breanna to see if she knew what was going on, but she was focused on the next part of the con, hacking into the mark's banking information already. He wasn't sure what they were going to do next for the job, since Eliot had been grifting the chief of police for the past two days and they really needed her to make the arrest.
"You know the deal, El." Quinn's voice was warm. "Listen to Parker, hang onto the goose. And when I get there, you better have taken some sort of analgesic, okay?"
"Fine," Eliot grunted. His face was pinched, either with annoyance or pain. Probably both.
Sophie and Brenna were discussing the job down in the bar area and there wasn't much lawyer input Harry had for this one, so he put himself in charge of making soup. By no means would it live up to Eliot's standards, but he put in enough different colored vegetables to keep Parker interested and appease Eliot's nutritionist leanings.
Upstairs, Parker and Eliot were in their bedroom. He'd heard the shower start and stop a couple times, so he didn't plan to disturb them for a while. He would knock, but Parker's understanding of when was an appropriate time to let someone into the bedroom was... not great.
The soup finished up and wasn't half bad in Harry's opinion. He'd taken to spending time with Eliot when he was cooking, as that was when he was most likely to get a straight answer out of him. In turn, he'd been taught a thing or two about cooking.
Breanna and Sophie had long since retreated to their rooms when Harry went to get another serving. Being on a team had well and truly jacked up his sleep schedule.
He flicked on the light in the kitchen to find that he wasn't alone. The man from the FaceTime, Quinn, was leaning against the sink, munching on some Oreos that Harry was surprised Eliot had allowed in the kitchen.
"Uhhhh..."
Quinn swallowed, eyes shining. "Hey, you must be Harry! El's told me all about you."
"Um, hi. You must be Quinn. Eliot's told me nothing about you."
Quinn laughed at that. "'Course he hasn't. E's a dumbass like that."
Quinn extended his hand. "Mr. Quinn. I'm Eliot's boyfriend."
Harry was not expecting that and his mind raced as he shook the other man's hand.
"Doesn't, and I don't mean to be rude, but doesn't Eliot already have a boyfriend?" Harry asked, glancing at the nearest security camera that he knew Hardison sometimes watched.
Quinn nodded. "Yeah." He separated another Oreo and scraped the filling out and added it to a mound of crème on the counter. He popped the cookie parts into his mouth.
"Oh, hey Quinn. Didn't realize you were here yet," Breanna greeted as she entered the kitchen. She dug through the fridge until she found a bottle of Mountain Dew. "Eliot asleep I take it?"
Quinn nodded, looking smug.
"Wait, how did you get in?"
"Mmm," Quinn finished chewing his disemboweled Oreo. "I used the Parker Door on the roof. Anytime they move, I like to try out all the secret entrances Hardison installs for Parker."
"And didn't trip security?" Breanna asked. Quinn nodded proudly. "Niiiice." They did a short, clearly choreographed, handshake.
"So you two know each other, I take it," Harry probed. He'd found that straight up asking never got him the response he was looking for.
"Quinn's been a staple at Nana's holiday meals for what... four years now? Five?"
"Four," Quinn explained. "El was nervous about bringing me the first year so we didn't go."
"Right," Breanna agreed. "That was the year Parker spent on the roof since Eliot wasn't there to help judge the textures for the food."
"E was so mad when they got home and found out she hadn't eaten all day. Angriest pasta I've ever eaten."
Breanna chuckled. "You did not have his penne right after Sterling drugged him the second time. Right after Nate and Sophie retired too, so Alec had to enlist Nana for emotional support."
"So you two have been together for a while?" Harry interjected.
"Yeah," Quinn confirmed with a dopey smile on his face.
"How'd you meet?"
Quinn laughed. "Now that's a funny story." He sat himself on the counter top. "I got hired by Sterling to take him out back when the team was still pretty new. Of course, he's Eliot Fucking Spencer, so I got my ass handed to me. Sterling stiffs me, which sucked, and Eliot broke my rib. Anyway, three years later, Eliot hires me to help take down some airplane asshole. And well... It's hard not to bond over how annoying hackers are."
"I take offense to that," Breanna interjected playfully. She surveyed the package of Oreos Quinn had left on the counter. "Those Parker's?"
Quinn nodded. "Sure are." Breanna retreated her hand, which was poised to snag a few. "Hey, she's not that possessive,” Quinn protested.
"You told me she put itching powder in your go bag."
"Only the first time! Now she just withdraws a couple thousand from my bank account."
"I, um, made some soup," Harry cut in. "Do you think she'd want some? The carrots are cooked all the way through." Parker either preferred her food to be mush or crisp. She didn't even put milk in her cereal.
Quinn gave him a surprised look. "I'll take a bowl up. She was on the roof when I left the bedroom, but I doubt she went any further."
"Alright, thanks."
Quinn disappeared with a bowl and Breanna daringly ate one Oreo, glancing over her shoulder as she did, before putting the package away.
Despite the change of plans due to Eliot's injury, Sophie has the con wrapped up in time for their client's graduation. Parker and Breanna pulled a lot of late nights and Harry was on Singapore time for the majority of the con.
He didn't see much of Eliot or Quinn, but he knew both were around the office based on the disappearance of the rest of the soup and a growing bag of glass recycling that Parker didn't usually bother with.
Everyone always took the day after a job finished off, but Harry had always been the one to finish up the paperwork for a settlement as soon as possible. Never leave room for someone to weasel out of an agreement. Now, he just had to drop off any receipts in Parker's "office". Lower stakes, but he did get to slide paper into a cold air return and money reappeared in whatever alias' account he'd used for the job.
He had his manila folder all organized, ready to drop it off so he could go spend the rest of the day catching up on the Masked Singer. Not that he was planning to let the rest of the team in on his plans... Although, who was he kidding, Hardison probably knew. Regardless, he had a nice, relaxing day ahead of him once he got these receipts dropped off. He used his key to unlock the front door of the bar, wondering how many other security measures he was unknowingly bypassing via heat signature or skin cells.
Shutting the door behind him, he was surprised to see someone sitting in one of the lounge chairs Parker had set up near the punching bag so she could watch Eliot move. He was more surprised to see that it was Eliot.
From behind, the hitter looked much better than when Harry had last seen him. Admittedly, he was freshly shot then, so Harry figured he could only really go up from there. Eliot's hair was curly in what Harry assumed was its natural shape. It was wet too, water dripping on the floor and his shoulders every once in a while. Harry wondered if the splatter of water bothered the particular man, but that questioning was quickly overtaken by the curiosity at the stuffed goose clutched in Eliot's arms. The image was incongruous. Even in sweats and a ratty tee, Harry knew Eliot to be rough and dangerous. Seeing him clutch so tightly to a stuffed animal didn't compute.
As he rounded the chair, Harry cataloged the way Eliot's breathing was carefully controlled, his gaze downcast.
"You alright?"
Eliot didn't answer.
Harry reached out for the goose, wanting to feel the texture of its short, synthetic fur. His hand wasn't halfway to the stuffie's head when Eliot flung out his arm, grabbing Harry's wrist.
"El-"
The hitter had him shoved up against the nearest wall in seconds, his uninjured arm pressing sharply against Harry's throat. His other hand gripped Harry's wrists together painfully.
"Wha-" Harry gasped for breath, trying to make sense of the situation. Despite seeing Eliot's work time and time again, it was hard to see him as a threat these days. Not with Parker poking bruises, Breanna flipping him off, and Sophie making him tea. But suddenly, all of the terror Harry had felt when he first woke up in Sophie's Boston apartment came rushing back. Panic frazzled his thoughts and he could barely hear anything past his heart pounding.
He searched Eliot's face, trying to recognize the man he'd come to know, the man who made chocolate pancakes and memorized hockey stats. There was nothing of the man he knew, just a furious, uncontrolled scowl and wild eyes.
"Hey, El- Oh, shit, Eliot!"
Before Harry could fully get his bearing backed up against the wall, he was dragged forward and pulled tight against Eliot's chest. One arm was pulled painfully against his back while the other came to clutch desperately at where Eliot's arm crushed around his throat.
When the initial black pulse cleared from his vision, Harry could see Quinn coming from the kitchen where Harry had met him not a week before.
He was in a suit but his hair was still wet like Eliot’s. The other man carefully set down a plate of what looked like egg rolls. His gaze flicked from Harry to the floor where the goose now lay then back to Eliot. He held up his hands.
"Eliot, do you know who that is?"
"Triad," the hitter growled, asserting his grip on Harry.
The lawyer struggled for breath, unable to get a word out.
"You stay away," Eliot threatened further. Despite that, he shuffled toward the chair he'd been sitting in moments ago.
Quinn didn't move. Instead, he asked, "You know who I am?" He studied Eliot carefully, any playfulness from his demeanor gone. Both Harry and his windpipe hoped he'd get to the point soon.
Eliot didn't answer, didn't move. His attention didn't appear to be on Quinn. If he had to guess, Harry would say it was on the goose.
"El, I'm going to unarm myself, okay?"
The hitter must've given some sort of consent, because after a beat, Quinn carefully slipped off his suit jacket, revealing a rather full gun holster. A sixth gun was revealed on his ankle. A handful of knives after that, somewhere in his pants. Finally, something that looked suspiciously like a grenade and then Quinn backed away from the table he'd piled everything onto. He took an egg roll with him.
Something about the action or perhaps the flippancy if the situation tripped something in Eliot though, because while he didn't loosen his grip on Harry, he did say, "Quinn?"
"The one and only." The other man grinned. "You know who that is?"
"... Tr- triad," Eliot responded, less certain now.
"That's Harry Wilson, the lawyer guy your team's trying to rehabilitate." Quinn scanned Eliot, his trembling limbs and wet hair. "What'd he do?"
Eliot swallowed and Harry could hear it uncomfortably close. "He- he tried... The- Crais..."
"He tried to touch Craisin?" Quinn supplied.
Eliot nodded and droplets of water landed against Harry's tight skin.
Quinn took a bite of his egg roll. "And you didn't want him to?"
"It's Har- Hardison's- It's."
Something in Quinn's expression saddened. "Yeah, I know," he said softly. "It's Hardison's- It's Alec's goose." He paused for a moment. "Harry isn't going to touch your- Alec's goose without permission. Right, Harry?"
Harry doesn't even have a chance to emphatically nod before he's being shoved away. Eliot looks like something's scalded him, breathing heavily as if he had just fought several RIZ goons rather than one severely unprepared lawyer.
Quinn popped the rest of the roll in his mouth. "It's almost five in Helsinki," he commented, retrieving a napkin from the bar.
Harry gave him his best ‘WTF’ look, gasping for breath.
"N- not calling him."
"You miss him. He'd be here in a day."
"He's encrypting the Embassy of Good Science’s servers."
"And he's texting me every five minutes all the while."
"No."
"Parker would-"
"No!" Some of the anger Harry had registered before was quickly being reinterpreted as fear. As Harry got control of his breathing, he reassessed what had happened through Eliot's eyes. An unknown person comes up from behind, tries to touch a loved one's comfort object. Add in a healthy dose of combat reflexes and recent gunshot wounds and... yeah, Harry could see why Eliot had reacted that way. Didn't make his throat hurt any less but...
"You thought I was Triad?" He asked, interrupting their glare-based conversation.
Two pairs of eyes flicked over to him in sync. Eliot's gaze immediately moved to the floor, but Quinn took a moment to assess Harry.
"I mean, your footsteps do have a rather Triad-esq flair,'' Quinn defended. "If I didn't know just how tight Hardison's security is, I would've done the same thing when I saw you Tuesday."
As Quinn spoke, Harry crossed the room, giving the goose a wide berth, and grabbed an egg roll. He decided not to question the other hitter’s explanation.
Quinn returned his attention to Eliot, seemingly trying to coax him back upstairs. Harry considered the bar. Some days, dealing with this team required something a little stronger.
By the time Harry finished fixing himself a drink, Eliot and Quinn had disappeared again, likely upstairs. The goose was gone too.
The lawyer took some time to calm down, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline. He wasn't upset with Eliot. It was clear his colleague had been far too out of it to recognize him beyond a threat to his goose.
He took a sip of the cocoa he'd fixed himself. No, he wasn't upset with Eliot. He was more confused and concerned than anything.
Masked Singer plans out the window, he nursed his drink and spiraled a bit.
Everything about Eliot seemed a little off. His speech wasn't just panicked, it sounded like physically couldn't form words. Harry's great uncle had had a stroke when he was in college. He knew aphasia when he heard it. That and the PTSD flashback response… He knew Eliot took a lot of damage. Harry wondered if his partners would let Eliot get to the hit that took him out for good. And… he wondered about the goose. Eliot clearly was protective of the thing, especially since it was Hardison's.
Harry felt weirdly guilty for putting it in danger.
He sighed, going to take another sip when he heard, "You make extra?"
Thankfully, he only spilt a bit on himself.
"Hello, Parker," he greeted as evenly as he could while mopping up hot chocolate.
She gestured to the cup, a question on her face.
"Ah, no. Just the one mug."
She hmphed, but stayed put, staring at him for much longer than comfortable. Which, with Parker, was nearly five minutes. "You're upset," she finally concluded.
"I am."
She squinted at him.
"I tried to pet Hardison's goose and-"
"What goose?"
Harry paused, a bit taken aback. He's assumed that Parker already knew about the goose. "The big white goose? About yea big?" He approximated the size with his hands.
"That's Eliot's goose."
"... Eliot said-"
Parker shook her head. "Alec got the goose for Eliot, but Eliot doesn't like to acknowledge soft things so we all pretend that it's Alec's and that Eliot's just taking care of it while he's away."
"Oh."
Parker rolled her eyes like this was all obvious.
"Why'd he give Eliot a goose?"
She sniffed his hot chocolate (when Parker acquired his hot chocolate, he didn't ask) and shrugged. "I'm big and angry. I have clobber fists and will crush anyone who cuddles with me when I'm injured, grrrr." Parker's growly-voiced puppet (where she got it, he didn't ask) was a rather effective mimic of Eliot, although Harry doubted he ever said those exact words. Harry started to answer, but she wasn't done. "Except for Quinn, who is uncrushable. I'll cuddle with him and Craisin and not Parker because Parker is crushable, grrrrrrr."
"... I see." He crumpled up his napkin, trying to form a coherent response to that. Before Harry could ask any follow ups though, she disappeared. It took him another half hour to realize that she'd taken the manila folder full of receipts with her.