The apartment is quiet except for the steady rhythm of Eliot's breathing. His face, normally set in a permanent scowl, has softened in sleep, revealing the vulnerable man beneath the tough exterior. The bruising has deepened overnight, purples and blues spreading across his jaw and down his neck where the collar of his t-shirt doesn't quite hide them.

Hardison appears in the doorway, balancing a tray with breakfast items and fresh ice packs. He meets my gaze and gives a small, worried smile. "How's our teddy bear doing?" he whispers, using the new nickname we've bestowed on our injured teammate.

"Still sleeping," I murmur, brushing a strand of hair off Eliot's forehead. He stirs slightly at the contact, a quiet groan escaping his lips as his face tightens with pain before relaxing again. "He's in more pain than he's letting on."

Hardison sets the tray down carefully on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed, his weight causing Eliot to shift slightly. My heart constricts at the way Eliot's hand immediately tightens on the sheets, his knuckles whitening with the effort not to cry out. "We should probably wake him up soon," Hardison says gently. "He needs to eat something and we should check those bandages."

As if summoned by our conversation, Eliot's eyes flutter open, immediately narrowing against the light. His gaze focuses first on me, then on Hardison, and despite the obvious pain he's in, there's something soft in his expression that I've rarely seen before. Something like gratitude, or maybe even... affection.

"Morning, Bear," I say softly, reaching out to brush my fingers against his uninjured cheek.