Hardison hugged Parker tight, thankful for her intellect; thankful that she was still with him.

"You're not the only smart one around here," she whispered, reading his thoughts, hugging him back. She gave him another quick kiss, then said, "Come on, we have to get Eliot."

Hardison nodded his head and took her hand, walking them both quickly back to the train car. Before he'd followed Parker out, he'd exchanged glances with Eliot from where he lay on the floor of the train car. He knew his friend had been shot. Knew his friend would be in need of medical attention. But he also knew that they had had bigger things to deal with at the moment. And with that moment gone, it was back to being concerned about their small team.

They found Eliot, now sitting up on one of the train's seats, his feet resting on the chest of the unconscious evil doctor.

"Hey, man, how you doin'?" Hardison asked as he approached.

"Been better. Been worse," was Eliot's pain-filled reply. "Wouldn't mind getting the hell out of here."

"We need to get you to a hospital," Hardison replied.

"No hospitals," Eliot quickly replied. "Bullets both went through. I'll be fine."

Hardison looked at Parker, who had been quietly tying up the doctor's hands and ankles, and said, mockingly, "Oh, yeah, bullets went through. He'll be fine! The man has been SHOT and he says he's fine!"

"Let's just get out of here!" Eliot growled, holding out his left hand to get an assist.

Parker quickly rose and grabbed the hand. She gave a tug and Hardison quickly moved in to help, too. Between the two of them, they managed to get Eliot off the train and heading down the tracks toward an emergency exit.

Parker didn't like that Eliot didn't want to go to a hospital any more than Hardison, but she understood his dislike of the places. She understood the need to stay under the radar and away from being identified; shown to the world; She understood the vulnerability of giving yourself to strangers' care.

When Eliot let out a grunt of pain when they climbed the steps, they stopped and let him sit to rest. Eliot knew his adrenalin rush was fading, that the pain and blood loss were taking their toll. He also knew just how many steps it was up to street level. He needed to rest a bit.

"Hold on a sec," he told Parker and Hardison after he'd caught his breath. "Let me give Vance an update. "

The other two knew what Eliot was doing – giving himself time to recoup. And he did need to give Vance an update… Hardison looked at Eliot's wounds again. He pulled off his shirt and then his undershirt. He tore the undershirt up into two strips and tied one around Eliot's leg.

Eliot was mid-sentence and let out a gasp as Hardison tightened the knot. When Vance questioned him, he'd denied anything had happened, just saying that they'd see him topside.

Hardison put his outer shirt back on just as Eliot put his phone away.

"Ready, Sparky?" Parker asked, motioning to the stairwell.

"Let's do it," was Eliot's terse response.

Shaking his head, Hardison moved in and grabbed Eliot by his belt loops, helping him to stand. They moved to the left side of the stairwell and Eliot grabbed onto the handrail with his left hand. Hardison stood on his right, holding him around his waist. "Ready?" he asked, and Eliot replied by hopping up the step on his good leg.

"Just take your time, boys," Parker said, following closely, her hands lightly supporting them as they moved upward.

They stopped often; Eliot, despite being in excellent shape otherwise, needing to catch his breath. Even Hardison, not used to such physical exertion, was grateful for the respite.

"A few more steps to go. Almost there," was Parker's next encouragement.

Just as they reached the door to the stair exit, it opened, letting in a bit of sunlight. Vance was there.

"Fancy meeting you here," he greeted them with a smile, quickly moving down the few steps, taking up Eliot's weight from his left side. "I got him," he told Hardison.

But Hardison did not let go, saying, "I still got this side. Not a problem."

Eliot smiled to himself at Hardison's words. Such distrust in the military man… Hardison was not about to let him go without a fight. Hell, the way Parker still stood so close, too, he knew he was in good hands. Even Vance's. While he would not willingly, officially, work for the government again, even for Vance, he knew Vance would do right by him. But he knows Vance. Knew he could trust him, deep down.

The trio brought him to a waiting ambulance and sat him on the edge of the floor at the open back doors. Eliot knew what the EMTs were legally allowed to do, what they were expected to do.

For them, having a man with not one, but two gunshot wounds is considered major trauma – whether he was bleeding out, unconscious or not. Hell, they'd normally be hooking him up to IV solutions, starting him on oxygen, tying him down onto a backboard… He hated to disappoint them, but he was not going to go to the hospital.

This was the time that he was damn glad to have Vance there. As the military rank allowed, or actually only coerced, he was able to tell the EMTs that their job at the moment was to provide bandaging and dressings for the wounds and to make sure that Eliot's vital signs were stable. Which they did and they were . Anyone else would have had a police officer there by the EMT's request making sure that the injured party went to the hospital, with or without their consent, to be cared for and have all the proper documentation handled, etc.

Eliot quietly gave them access to his shoulder and leg wounds – enough to see the wounds, but not remove any clothing. And Eliot quietly let them wrap the bandages around his leg and shoulder, breathing through the pain as they pressed hard and tightened the bandages. He ignored whatever they said to him, listening only for key words from Vance, Hardison or Parker as he put the pain into another part of his brain to deal with later.

So when Vance allowed them to walk, or limp away, as the case happened to be, Eliot was a very happy person. Dropping the crutch – and where had that come from, Eliot wondered, as that type of equipment is not ambulance standard – Eliot gladly took up Hardison's help again as they headed back to wherever they would go.

"I know you're hurting, Eliot," Parker told him as she walked on his other side. "How's that gray car over there look? I think it should be comfortable enough for a quick ride to a nice motel."

"Sounds good," Eliot replied quietly and allowed himself to be led to the car Parker had motioned to.

He leaned on Hardison as Parker expertly unlocked the soon-to-be-stolen vehicle and opened the door, telling Hardison at the same time, "We're only borrowing it, Hardison. Lucille is too far away to walk."

"I know that!" Hardison shot back, indignant; hating that Eliot knew what he was thinking.

Eliot let out a painful groan as he practically fell into the passenger seat of the car. "Parker, let Hardison drive," he said as he let his head fall against the headrest. "I'm not up for any of your driving right now." He closed his eyes and shut out the quiet bickering between Parker and Hardison as she hotwired the car to start and then moved to the back seat.