Close the Doors, Pull the Shades - Part Five - Leverage - NC-17

[phantisma]

Fandom: Leverage
Title: Close the Door, Pull the Shades - Part Five (follows on Part One and Part Two and Part Three and Part Four)
Pairing/Characters: Nate/Eliot, Hardison, Parker, Sophie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3560
Summary: Nate and Eliot look for a way out of a dangerous situation, but Nate's solution only lands them in a hotter fire than the one they left.

A/Ns & Warnings: This is, as is becoming usual, havenward's fault. Although it started with merry_gentry's first vampire!Nate prompt on comment_fic. thus, this is a vampire!Nate fic. As such, this will include biting and some blood play. It will be a rather dom!Nate in places, but certainly not a sub!Eliot in the traditional sense. Apparently this fic has taken over my brain. I've written close to 15000 words since I started on this. That number includes tidbits that were posted to comment_fic but have not yet made it into the bigger story.




"I don't know how you managed it, but I've got to say I figured you'd know better than to mess with one of your own."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Nate says, smooth as anything despite the blade at his throat, despite the fact that Eliot's already taken a few cheap shots.

Eliot wipes the blood from his lip and takes in the situation. The truck is moving, has been moving for at least a half hour and stuck in the back of it, he has no idea where they're going. Five guys and the vampire. Normally he'd take those odds, especially with Nate to back him up, but this isn't normal. This is far from normal…because Eliot is still healing, Nate's blood or no, he knows he isn't a hundred percent.

At least they hadn't found the earpieces yet, so Hardison was still hearing what was going on.

"Parker is clear. Three prisoners are with her." Hardison's voice has an edge to it, fear maybe. Eliot's eyes meet Nate's.

"I was just looking to do some business. If you're not interested, just say so. No need for all of this violence."

"Funny thing is, Mr. Antony, your company doesn't exist. Your computer guy is good, but so is mine. I had him dig around a little…and he tells me your company doesn't exist, and neither do you."

The truck rumbles and lurches along some dirt road, because they left pavement a while ago and there's no gravel kicking up under them…and dirt around here means sand. Desert. "Where are you taking us?" Eliot asks.

Marquez backhands him across the face. "Slaves don't speak, boy." He turns back to Nate while two of his men crowd Eliot into the wall. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, if you and your company do not exist, that must mean that you are trying to trick me, swindle me…maybe you're looking to take over my action?"

Eliot can feel Nate's eyes and nods a little to say that he's okay. Nate stands from the chair they pushed him into after dragging them into the truck. The man with the knife at his throat moves with him. "We clear?" Nate asks, looking at Eliot, though his words are for Hardison.

"Yeah, we're clear." Hardison replies.

Eliot nods again, this time so they can see him. He has no idea what Nate has planned, but he's clearly got something going on in his head. "Maybe, Mr. Marquez, I already have." Nate turns slowly. "Your computer guy may be good, but mine is brilliant. If we weren't so far out of cell phone range, you would be able to verify that you are penniless. Your businesses are dry, your home is going to be foreclosed on, your bank accounts are empty. Those prisoners you had locked up in that warehouse awaiting sale, are mine now and already in transport to the buyers."

Nate's smile is evil. "Now, if I were you, I'd turn this truck around and head us back into the city. If you play nice, I'll see you get a little something back."

Marquez eyes Nate up and down. "Pretty damn cocky for a vampire in your position, aren't you?"

"It's a character flaw."

Eliot wishes he felt the confidence Nate obviously did. Marquez nodded to one of his men who lifted a phone. They obviously weren't as far out of cell phone range as Nate thought, or their computer guy really was good, because the man spoke to someone, then nodded to Marquez.

Marquez snarls at Nate before his hand reaches out to grab Eliot by the hair, dragging him into the center of the truck. "You have no idea who you're messing with."

Eliot struggles and two of Marquez's men grab his arms to hold him. "Get out now." Nate says calmly, his eyes locked on Eliot's. Eliot stills, even as Marquez pulls his head to the side.

"You aren't going anywhere." Marquez snarls. "Not until I've had a taste."

Eliot feels the familiar sting as teeth penetrate his skin, feels his cock flush and fill. He pulls forward, toward Nate.

"I told you, I don't share." Nate growls, punching one of the men holding Eliot. His hand wraps around Eliot's waist, pulling him close, turning them…"Now!" …and then they're crashing through the door, falling, rolling through a cloud of dust.

The truck slows, as they separate and pull each other up, Marquez in the open back door. He waves goodbye and the truck barrels off into the distance, leaving Nate and Eliot in the middle of nowhere with only a few hours until dawn.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Digital door locks. Hardison opened them for us." Nate reaches for him, checking the wound in his neck, now coated in sand, but Eliot pulls away.

"I'm fine…other than the ribs you broke with that stupid stunt."

"You'd rather I left you with him? If you're lucky he'd have killed you."

There's more in that statement than the words Nate said, a fear of just what Marquez could have done. Eliot acknowledges it with a nod. "So now what?"

Nate looks around them. "Now we wait for Hardison to send Sophie to get us."

That's about when Eliot realizes he doesn't have his earpiece. "Fuck." He looks down the trail left by their rolling bodies. It could be anywhere and in the dark they weren't going to find it. "Tell me you still have yours."

Nate's eyes close and he mutters curses under his breath. "Okay, we can't be too far out, we've only been off the road what? A half hour?"

"Forty-five minutes at least." Eliot corrects.

Nate turns, pointing back the way they'd come. Eliot follows his finger, shaking his head. With the cloud cover mostly hiding the moon, it's nearly impossible to see the tracks the truck had made just moments ago, and with the steady wind blowing they'd be gone in no time. "It's a big desert…we could walk for hours and never find the road."

Nate nods. "Clearly, Marquez thinks we aren't getting out of here alive. No water, no idea where we are. He wouldn't have left us here otherwise." His eyes scan the horizon. "There's a pile of rocks over there. We can make them by sunrise."

"And then what?" Eliot asks.

"Wait for dark again, or for the team to find us."



They're maybe half way to the rocks when Nate feels the start of sunrise. It's like a tingle, a tiny shock of electricity deep inside him, a warning to get under shelter. He wants to push faster, but one look at Eliot tells him it's a bad idea.

Eliot's hurting, hiding it well, but Nate can smell the pain with each step. "You’re a stubborn idiot." Nate mutters, making Eliot stop in his tracks.

"Me? I'm the stubborn idiot?"

"You shouldn't be out here. You should be in that hospital bed." Nate doesn't mean it to sound so accusatory, but it comes out hostile and aggressive.

"I was fine until someone flung me out of a moving truck." Eliot counters. "Whatever you did with that blood of yours had me patched up good."

"Then why are you limping?"

"We don't have time for this. Sun's coming." Eliot yanks on Nate's shoulder to get him moving again. "I'm limping because I got your knee in the thigh as we were rolling in the sand. It'll be fine."

"You know you say that a lot."

Eliot frowns at him. "Say what?"

"That you're fine, or you'll be fine. It's like you can't let anyone know you're in pain."

Eliot rolls his eyes. "Okay, I’m in pain. It fucking hurts. It's bleeding and it hurts. Does that make you happy?" Eliot growls as they stalk through the sand. "While I'm at it should I tell you that my ribs hurt and my head hurts and I'm thirsty and I'm pissed because I told you we shouldn't have taken the job?"

Nate recoils, because he can feel the anger coming off of Eliot in waves. "Does that fix everything?" Eliot asks, walking a little slower.

"Eliot." Nate reaches for his shoulder, but Eliot pulls away from him. "Come on, I didn't mean to make you angry."

"Can we concentrate on getting you out of the sun?" Eliot asks after a few moments, gesturing at the horizon that was more blue now than black, with a fair amount of red and orange in it. "I'd rather not have you burn up while I'm supposed to be watching your back."

Nate can feel the sun long before he can see it, and it isn't even really warm, but his clothes are soaked with sweat and despite the gorging he did, it's been twenty-four hours and he's burned through most of that just getting this far.

The pace is punishing and they're still not going to make it in time. Nate stops, shaking his head when Eliot turns, the question on his face. "No."

Eliot takes the few steps back to him. "Don't be an idiot."

"It's too soon. You need it more than I do."

"So don't take a lot." Eliot counters, rolling up his sleeve before spitting in his hand to wipe away the grime that coats his wrist. "Here."

Nate pulls away, but Eliot is right, he needs the blood to keep going. "Just a little."

Eliot nods and Nate lets it come, closes his eyes and bites. Eliot stiffens beside him, but says nothing until Nate pulls back. "That wasn't enough." Eliot says softly.

"For now." Nate responds, already feeling the warmth fill him. Eliot presses a hand to the wound and gets them moving again.

Nate hisses when he feels the first direct ray, burning against his hand. He pulls his jacket sleeve down, pulls his hands up inside and turns his face away. Just a few more feet. He can make a few more feet.

His legs tremble and give out just shy of the shade, but Eliot catches him, drags him the rest of the way until they're behind the rocks, protected for the moment from the sun. "Stay here, I'm going to see if there's a cave or an overhang or something."

Nate can hear his boots on the stone, feel the vibration against his back. This rock won't be enough for long. He closes his eyes, wills himself to stay calm. His body wants more of the only thing that will give him a chance to stay alive, it clamors for it, drives him to want to push out into the glare of the sun to find it and it's a battle to stay still, especially once he knows Eliot is coming back.

"Okay. I found something. It isn't much, but it should give you enough shade to get through the day."

"Where?" Nate manages through clenched teeth, keeping his eyes closed. If he even looks at Eliot, he might not be able to control himself.

"Not far, but we're going to have to move in the open to get there."

Nate can hear the concern in his voice, but he nods, heaves himself up. He shudders when Eliot's hand touches him, but let's Eliot guide him, let's Eliot pull his face down against his shoulder to protect his face from the sun. Then he's pushing Nate down, hand on his head and Nate sinks into the blessed dark of a shallow cave with a stony overhang.

He curls his feet in, tucks his hands inside his jacket and folds up as small as possible to keep his extremities safe because he dare not open his eyes, dare not look…the smell was enough of a temptation.

"Okay, this should be good. I'm going to go up top, have a look around, see if I can see anything."


Nate is nothing if not stubborn. Eliot has learned this the hard way, so it shouldn't surprise him when that stubborn streak comes close to getting him dead.

"For fuck's sake!" Eliot drops to his knees beside Nate's quivering body, stripping off his shirt as he does.

"No." Nate says it through clenched teeth, clenched fucking fangs because he needs to feed and his body knows it, even if his damn stubborn head won't allow it.

"Like hell. We got this far. I'm not letting you die on me now."

"Too soon."

The marks of his last feeding are still fresh and raw on Eliot's arm. He hadn't taken enough then and they were fuck knows where in the middle of nowhere, in the goddamn desert an hour past high noon. The rocky outcropping was only barely enough to keep Nate in the shade and Eliot really didn't like the burns he could see on Nate's hands.

"If you don't feed, you're going to die." Eliot growls at him, pulling a knife from his boot. He cuts over the marks from the morning, opening his skin and letting the sent of blood fight this battle for him. He watches Nate, watches him struggle, then slowly, slowly surrender.

His lips close over the wound, his teeth scratching lightly at the raw edges as he drank. Eliot feels the familiar arousal, dampened by the danger, by the fact that it may well be too soon, and too little, especially after the last forty-eight hours, but fuck it all to hell if he's going to let this goddamn mark get the better of them…and he was going to need Nate if they were going to get out of this.

Nate sits back before Eliot has to pull away, the shaking diminishing some. Eliot drapes his jacket over Nate's face to give him some respite from the light and turns to sit beside him. He'll rest a while, there isn't much more he can do anyway. He'd stripped off his white shirt, ripped it in half and tied each to a couple of sticks he'd found, mounting them at opposite ends of the rocky mound they were huddled under, just in case anyone actually came looking.

He is hurting pretty good now, the thigh throbbing, two broken ribs pressing against skin. His hand comes away from his side wet and he cusses low, craning his neck to look. One of the ribs is poking through skin, and that is never a good sign.

"You okay?" Nate asks through chattering teeth and Eliot nods and leans his head on Nate's shoulder.

"Gonna be just fine. Rest. Long walk ahead of us tonight."

When night came, he'd feed Nate again, and they'd find the road out...hope they made shelter or someone found them before daylight.



The sky is a dark blue-black stained with clouds that tease them with the promise of rain. Eliot stumbles beside him and Nate catches him, pulls him close. In his other hand he clutches the earpiece he'd found completely by accident when Eliot had fallen earlier in their trek.

It's not working enough that he can hear anyone talking, but he can feel the electric pulse of it against his skin, which he hopes means the GPS is still working.

The moon is slinking through the clouds, as Nate keeps them moving. He's mostly given up trying to talk, because it's a waste of energy, something neither of them has a lot of.

He catches a scent, vague, unspecific, and he turns them toward it. They stumble along, and it gets stronger. Exhaust. A vehicle. He tries to get Eliot's attention. "I think someone's coming."

They aren't far now, he can smell her. "Come on, Eliot." Nate murmurs, his arm around Eliot's waist. With no water, the day in the desert had been horrific, even before Eliot had forced him to feed. Eliot had been through too much and even with Nate's blood flowing inside him he was really showing the strain.

There is a wet sounding cough that has Nate worried, and Eliot's eyes are hazy and his focus keeps wandering. But now, with the moon risen Nate is stronger, not hampered by the sun and heat. Eliot weakens with each mile they put behind them and but Sophie's coming, just not fast enough to suit Nate.

Finally, as the clouds break open and reveal a moon three days past full, a van rumbles to a stop and Sophie is there, pulling open the door and helping Nate get Eliot inside. "Water. Eliot first."

She's got bottles, passing one to him before cracking another to lift to Eliot's lips. Eliot's eyes are closed, his face slack. "Eliot, drink." Nate orders and Eliot's tongue slides over his lower lip. Nate takes the bottle. "Get us out of here, I've got him."

"Hardison, I've got them." Sophie says as she slides back into the driver's seat. The van lurches as Nate pulls Eliot into his lap, spilling water over his face to help rouse him.

"Come on Eliot, drink." Nate pours some of the water into his mouth, relief flooding him when Eliot swallows. "Good. A little more."

After Eliot gets several swallows, Nate lifts the bottle to his own lips. "We need to get him to a hospital." Nate calls up to Sophie.

She glances over her shoulder at him. "Can it wait until Tucson?"

"He's pretty bad."

"We've worn out our welcome in Phoenix."

"Marquez?"

She nods. "He's a little upset with us. He found our hotel just after we finished pulling out. Hardison is covering our tracks, but we don't really want to linger."

"Told you this was a bad idea." Eliot mumbles up at him, eyes cracking open. "You should listen to me more."

Nate's so relieved to hear his voice he nods. "Yeah, maybe I should."

"Tucson is fine." Eliot's voice is gruff, like he'd swallowed gravel and glass. "Fast is good though." His eyes meet Nate's. They're okay. Somehow.

Nate holds the water to Eliot's mouth, watching as he drinks.

After a while, Eliot sleeps, curled up on his good side, his ribs wrapped in what's left of Nate's shirt and Nate slides into the front seat with Sophie. "Thank you."

"What was I going to do, leave you two out there?" She rolls her eyes at him. "Hardison said it was a long shot, but we had to try."

"They meeting us in Tucson?"

Sophie nods. They're quite for a while, then she sighs loudly. "It's a little odd, isn't it?"

"What? The vampire thing?"

"Well, I mean…yes. You never said anything."

"I didn't figure it was important. I'm still me. Essentially. With a few…personality quirks."

"Is that what you call it?"

He glowers at her, a remnant of that rage filling him as he looks back at Eliot asleep in the back. "All three of them were murderers."

She's scowling. "That isn't the Nate I knew."

"Maybe not the me I was when we first met, but I've been this way a long time now, Sophie." He turns to look at her. "Are you upset about the vampire thing or about Eliot?"

"What?" She shakes her head. "Oh no you don't. Don't go making this about me. You lied to us."

"And you haven't lied to all of us at least once since this thing started?"

"That isn't the point."

"No? Then what is the point?"

"Why don't you two just fuck and get it over with?" Eliot's voice cut through their bickering.

Sophie huffs and nearly drives them off the road. Nate turns to look at Eliot who hasn't moved. "Excuse me?"

"If it would end this constant bickering, just do it already. You'll both realize it's a mistake, things will be awkward for a week or two, then you'll get over it and the rest of us can live in peace."

"Eliot!" Sophie is clearly indignant at even the suggestion, which only proves what Nate had suspected earlier. "I have no desire to…with Nate."

"So you lie to yourself as well as the rest of us?" Nate asks softly and she glares at him, then reaches up to turn on her earpiece.

"Hardison, we're ten miles outside of Tucson. Guide me to the nearest Emergency room please?"



Hardison is waiting for them when they pull in, a wheelchair at the ready. Nate climbs into the back to help Eliot up and out of the van, but Sophie takes the wheelchair and pushes him inside without a word. Hardison holds up a hand to stop Nate from following, holding up a small cooler.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I just got a little bit of everything. Figured you'd be needing to tank up about now."

Nate takes the cooler with a frown, opening to find pints of blood. "Hardison?"

"Parker helped. She said you might be a little on the hungry side and that we shouldn't let you near Eliot again until you'd had a little something something."

Nate nods slowly, looking at Hardison who took an involuntary step backwards. "But, my boy in there needs company, so I'm gonna go sit with him and leave you to your little snack, okay? Right. Just. I'm going—"

He watches Hardison go before sinking back into the van to lift the first plastic packet of blood. There's three in all and underneath is a fifth of Jack. That Parker is one smart girl.