Third Chapter! Yayyyyyy! Another big thank you to whimseyrhodes for helping me with this fic.

This chapter involves a little violence, not too much but it's still something. So, if you don't like that kind of stuff then just skip the parts you don't want to read. Enjoy! Byeeeeeeeee! ;)


A bucket of ice cold water was thrown on Eliot's head, waking the hitter up. Eliot gasped, coughing and sputtering out water. He threw his hair out of his eyes, beginning to shiver. He tried to move and panicked for a moment until he found himself chained to a chair.

"Good morning, Spencer," Adler happily said. "I hope you… slept well."

Eliot looked up, glaring at the man in front of him. Adler smirked.

"Have you been wondering where your team is?" he asked, signaling his men.

All of a sudden, familiar voices and screams filled the room.

"Eliot!" he heard Sophie call, her voice confused, and then a higher, younger scream that could only have been Parker. Then Hardison's voice called out, "Nate! Eliot!" Gunshots were heard, as well as more screams.

"You bastard!" Eliot screamed, struggling out of the chair. "Let go of them!"

Adler chuckled and signaled again and the voices over the intercom stopped. "Not until I'm done with you." he said quietly, suddenly punching Eliot in the ribs.

The hitter wheezed as Adler's fist slammed into his stomach and he heard a rib crack under the pressure. He spat out a mouthful of blood, managing to open his eyes enough to look daggers up at his enemy through his soaked bangs.

He was pulled from the chair, and dragged to a new room. Adler's men pushed him into the room, slamming the metal door shut as they left. As Eliot slumped on the ground, his teammates' voices echoed in his mind.

He finally managed to sit up, his arm wrapping around his stomach. He sat up against the wall, closing his eyes. He felt the water drip down his face and body, making him shiver. He opened his eyes, his mind spinning, and let his head drop back against the wall.

He quickly closed his eyes again, sighing. Against his will, he began to remember the last time he'd seen Tony Adler, world class interrogator. Although, at the time, Eliot had put him into the category of sadistic bastard. He'd endured nearly two months under Adler's 'care', suffering from exhaustion and deprivation, both of food and water, and of dignity. The interrogator had stripped him of all clothing, one of the most basic of tortures-keep your victim embarrassed and psychologically as well as physically naked. That had cured Eliot of any body shyness he'd had. He'd put Eliot in stress positions for hours on end, his arms strapped over poles across his back, or his wrists held up behind his back so high that he had to stand on his toes to keep his shoulders from dislocating. In the end, they'd been dis- and re-located half a dozen times, and they still acted up on a regular basis. The bastard had kept him chained at all times in a dank cell, the cold and wet seeping into his bones and finally giving him a severe case of pneumonia. To this day Eliot had a tendency to get bronchitis more often than he liked.

Those two months proved to be the worst two months of his life, and he told himself he would never go back to those god awful memories ever again, putting them in a box in the back of his mind where his other nightmares lived.

It had been a total miracle when he finally managed to escape. He had lost it; he'd dislocated his thumb in order to slip out of his chains, jumping onto Adler. He punched him with all his might, until finally, Adler had blacked out. When done, he fell onto his knees, taking deep and painful breaths.

Looking up from the bloody mess of Adler's body, Eliot was distantly surprised at the man's overconfidence in leaving his cell door open. Pushing himself up to a standing position, he stumbled to the door, his hand propping himself upright against the wall. He listened for a moment before walking out into the hallway, going into total survival mode, even throughout the pain and exhaustion. Eliot didn't see or hear any of Adler's goons walking toward him, so he chanced moving forward toward the stairs.

Something caught his eye and he paused, looking to his right. He saw a small cupboard, a room barely enough to turn around in, with boxes stacked up to the ceiling. C4. Nitro. Blasting Caps. He couldn't believe his luck.

Reaching up was hell on his ribs, but he grabbed onto the top box, hoping it wouldn't fall on his head, and lifted it down. His entire body screamed at him but he held back the howl and managed to bend to his knees and set it gently onto the floor. It wouldn't do him any good if he blew himself up. Opening the box, he saw a few stacks of C4 arranged neatly on one side, blasting caps on the other. He grabbed what he could and made for the stairs once more.

No one met him on the stairs and he stopped to set one block of the explosive on the top stair before continuing on. As much as he wanted to release his frustrations and punch his way out, he knew that the fight with Adler and the last two months had weakened him to the point where he wouldn't be able to. So instead, he slunk through the hallways, avoiding the guards whenever he heard their voices. He set two more bundles of C4 on his way out before finally reaching the front door. At that point his memories became hazy and indistinct from pain, exhaustion and blood loss, so he wasn't really sure how he managed to get to the hillside hundreds of yards from the estate when he heard the blast.

Eliot gasped out of the flashback, panting heavily. He dropped his head against the wall again, trying to bury the memories. He took a deep breath, moaning from the sudden pain. He closed his eyes, falling into another fitful sleep.

Eventually the hitter lost track of days and nights and he wasn't sure how long Adler had kept him this time. The man had once again put him into stress positions, aggravating his shoulders even more. He or one of his goons would come to Eliot's cell at random times and throw a bucket of ice water over him, waking him from sleep and Eliot was reminded more and more of his previous captivity with the sadist.

One day was a little different, when Adler had his guards drag the hitter into a different room, one with a low bench set at an angle. Eliot recognized it and made a rather pathetic attempt to escape, but being as weak as he was, he was unable to pull away, and instead strapped to the bench, his head at the bottom. One of the men covered his face with a towel and without warning he was suddenly drowning as water was poured over his head. Over and over they let him up for air, only to slap the towel over his face again. After his waterboarding session, a nearly insensate Eliot was dragged back to his cell.

After that, Adler seemed to rotate from electrocution to beating to waterboarding. The worst part of it was that he didn't want any intel, unlike the last time. He didn't ask any questions, only stood by and gloated. Eliot knew he couldn't win his way out with any information this time.

.

.

.

"Hardison, you got something?" Nate asked, leaning over the hacker to take a look at his progress.

"For once I can finally say yeah," Hardison answered. "I found out where Adler lives, traced all of his emails, and text messages. Dude's been talking to a man named Greg Adler, AKA his brother. In some of their text messages, they mentioned somethin' about a warehouse. I'm guessin' Eliot's there."
"Alright, good work," Nate said. "Can you find out where the warehouse is?"
"Can I… Man asks me if I...of course I can!" the hacker muttered indignantly as he hunched over the keyboard.

Nate shook his head, leaving the hacker to his work and going into the kitchen for a much needed drink.

Four Hours Later...

"Nate! I found it!" Hardison yelled.

The entire team rushed into the living room, awaiting Hardison's big news.

"Eliot is in a warehouse that is actually rather close to here. About two hours away from the offices." Hardison explained.

"Well then let's go!" Parker yelled, about to run out of the office when Sophie stopped her.

"Parker, we have to figure out a plan first," she said gently, not wanting to hurt her any further.

"I don't care!" Parker replied. "Eliot's in trouble. We need to save him!"

"Parker-" Sophie tried to say.

"Eliot wouldn't wait to save us!" she yelled, running out of the building.

Sophie turned to Nate and Hardison, sighing.

"Alright." Nate said, shaking his head. "Let's go steal a hitter."

"Bout damn time," Hardison muttered.