The van lurches as Parker takes a sharp turn, tires screeching against the pavement. Eliot's head rolls against my shoulder, and I freeze. This isn't like him - the man who once threatened to break my wrist for accidentally brushing his arm during a mission is now leaning into me like I'm some kind of human pillow.\n\n"Eliot? You with me?" I ask, keeping my voice steady despite the panic rising in my chest.\n\nHe blinks slowly, those sharp eyes unfocused behind his lashes. "Hardison," he mumbles, recognition dawning but not quite sticking. His brow furrows. "They got me. Need... need to get back."\n\n"We're on our way, man. You're safe now." I carefully adjust my arm to better support him, half-expecting him to jolt away. Instead, he sighs softly, nuzzling further into the crook of my neck like he's seeking more contact.\n\nNate turns from the front seat, his expression grim. "How bad is it?"\n\n"He's drugged, that much is clear," I say, scanning Eliot for obvious injuries. "No idea what they gave him, but it's making him..." I trail off, not wanting to say "cuddly" about the team's resident badass.\n\nEliot's hand finds mine where it rests on his arm, his fingers tangling with mine weakly. "Don't leave," he whispers, so quiet I almost don't hear him over the van's engine.\n\nMy heart twists. This isn't the Eliot we know - this is someone raw and exposed, all walls temporarily dismantled by whatever they injected him with. The question isn't just how to help him through the drug's effects, but whether we'll be able to reach this vulnerable version of him once the chemicals wear off.\n\nAs the van pulls into the parking garage below our apartment building, I make a silent vow: whatever it takes, I'm gonna show him that he doesn't have to be the invulnerable hitter all the time. That with us, he can just be Eliot.