Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He's six hours into creating a grade-school-teacher-turned-non-profit-coordinator-bringing-library-programming-to-rural-communities alias for Parker when he turns to ask them if this character has any exes he should add on Mx. Kiara Lynn's Facebook page. He last remembers Parker sitting on the couch rearranging their diamond collection, but they're no longer sitting there. He mentally shrugs, making note to ask them later, when he notices that the diamonds are still sitting on the coffee table. The Polar Star, Parker's favorite, isn't even in its special box. The one that Alec suspects a young Parker received from their brother. The painted outside is clearly done by a child and the only other thing Alec has seen Parker touch with such reverence is Bunny. Seeing the box essentially discarded, Parker no where to be seen, raises a lot of red flags. 

Alec saves what he's doing and activates his computer's security system. Anyone who steals his hard drive will be begging for him to take it back once his protocols are done with them. 

He pulls up the apartment's security live feed on his phone and flicks through it. As expected, Parker doesn't appear anywhere, but Eliot is lifting weights in the gym. Quickly, he checks GPS on Parker's phone and comm. Both are in the apartment. 

He sets a program to search the brewpub's archived footage from the last twelve hours for Parker's face and then heads over to the gym. Sometimes, Parker will join Eliot in there and, since there are several camera blind spots that their partner had requested, they disappear. Eliot had asked for (and gotten, dammit) a lot of camera black outs when he finally moved in. A few in the gym, one in the kitchen. His entire bedroom is a dead zone, with a camera outside the door and another outside the window. Neither pointing in. Eliot claims it's because he can't sleep knowing he could be watched. Alec suspects it's because Eliot doesn't want any record of the nightmares he gets. 

Parker isn't in the gym when he arrives and Alec considers reprimanding Eliot for lifting without a spotter but there is a reason he saw his partner on the cameras. There's a program monitoring the weight set that will alert Alec if anything person-shaped-and-in-a-supine-position stops moving for more than fifteen seconds. That does mean he gets alerts whenever Parker takes a nap on the bench, but the brief panic is worth it for the rare times that a stray Irish mob enforcer or Yakuza specialist breaks in and Eliot leaves them there out cold so he can finish putting away the dishes. 

Eliot cuts his set short, resting the bar in its holder and sitting up. He raises an eyebrow at Alec. 

Right. Alec doesn't usually come into his partners' spaces. 

"You seen Parker?" 

Eliot gives him a 'Why would I?' look. 

"They left their diamonds on the coffee table." 

Eliot scowls and crosses the room quickly. Alec follows him into the living room. He scans the room and Alec waits behind his partner, knowing to let him clear the space first. Alec's pretty sure he would notice a break in, even while hyper-focusing, but it doesn't take long for Eliot to determine that they're alone.

Parker hasn't been taken, just run off. If it hadn't been for the diamonds, which Eliot begins examining with great attention to detail, Alec wouldn't have batted an eye at their disappearance. 

Eliot circles the coffee table, not touching any of the valuables, though his hand does hover over the Polar Star's box when he notices it. 

"This how they left them?" 

Alec nods. 

Eliot comes to the same conclusion as Alec had. "They wouldn't leave these out like this unless something's wrong. You check out their southwest warehouse, I'll check the northeast. Put in your comm and activate the apartment's highest security level once we leave." 

"Should we leave a note?" 

Eliot's grabbing his knife holster from the coat closet, but he pauses to turn to Alec in question. "Why?" 

"In case they come back." 

Eliot makes a weird face that Alec would unpack if Parker wasn't missing. He opens his mouth to say something, closes it, then grunts out, "Fine." 

As Alec jots down a few words on a sticky note for Parker, his phone pings. He watches the footage flagged once, then holds up the screen for Eliot to see a Parker-from-four-hours-ago climb out the bathroom window. Eliot nods in acknowledgement, although based on the level of eye-squint, Alec's pretty sure he couldn't make out much. 

Deciding against starting the age old "You need glasses"-"Shut up Hardison"-"How many fingers am I holding up"-"Dammit Parker, you can't put your fingers behind your back when you ask that" argument, Alec pockets his phone and snags his comm box. He follows Eliot out the door smoothly, pocketing one comm, putting another in his ear, and handing the box forward for Eliot to grab as he finishes putting on his leather jacket. 

They don't say a word, don't need to say a word, as they leave the building, climb into their separate cars, and drive off. 

Although Alec's never been to either of Parker's Portland warehouses, he has the route to both memorized. It's second nature to navigate there after the number of times he's done it in his head. 

Nothing in the lot indicates that Parker's been there recently, but for all he knows, Parker paraglided over after they crawled through that window. 

He hesitates at the keypad before typing in 77389357. The light flashes green and Alec hears the lock disengage. He pulls it open an inch or two and takes a deep breath. After settling himself, he slips through the door. 

Parker's warehouse is just as uncanny as ever, but unlike the last time he was in one, Parker is here. Or, at least, there's a lump on the island of a bed. 

"El, I've got them," Alec murmurs, not wanting to disturb their curled up partner. Eliot grunts in confirmation, promising to be there soon, and the lump-shaped-Parker twitches. 

Alec takes long, sure steps into Parker's space, but hesitates when he nears the bed. 

He wrinkles his nose, the smell of sickness hitting him. There's a trash can sitting beside the bed and, yep, that's vomit. 

"Park, baby, you okay?" 

Parker has their blanket pulled over their head and they don't remove it as they whine, "Go away." 

Alec presses his lips together, squatting down to be level with them. "No can do, babe. Can you tell me what's wrong?" 

Parker makes a high pitched noise, somewhere in between a dying cat and an overheated computer. 

"Shh, it's okay, Park. Whatever it is, I'm here, El's on his way. We'll take care of it." 

Parker tugs the blanket down until their head is uncovered. 

"My body's broken," they mumble. Their eyes are squeezed shut and their cheeks are flushed. 

Alec kneels down beside them. "You're hurt?" 

They shake their head. "'m dying." 

"Are you sick?" He glances at the up-chuck beside him. 

Parker yanks the blanket back over their head. "No." 

"You're sure?" 

"Don't get sick." 

Some days, Parker sounds so young it hurts. 

Alec's quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. Parker's clearly not feeling well, but Alec doesn't want to force them to do something they don't want to. Even if that something is to be taken care of. 

"Give them a comm," Eliot instructs softly. 

Alec nods to himself. This is a body thing. If it were a mind thing, Alec would be on it. But Parker feels like their body's betraying them and it's Eliot who will know what to say. 

He takes a calming breath and gags a little because Parker-vomit is nasty. 

It takes a bit of coaxing, but eventually they accept the comm, sticking it in their ear before burrowing back under the blanket. 

"Parker?" Eliot probes. 

They groan in response. 

"I'm about ten minutes away, darlin'. Tell me what hurts." 

"Stomach. Head." 

"Describe your stomach pain." Eliot's voice is somehow both achingly soft in a way that he only gets with Parker and painfully attentive the way he gets in hostage negotiations. Alec resists the urge to check in with their partner. 

As always, though, Eliot knows exactly how to talk to Parker. 

"Cramps. And like someone stabbed me with a fork." 

"Hardison?"

"No blood... At least- Parker?" 

"Pretend stabs," they confirm. 

"They've also thrown up." 

Eliot's quiet for a bit. 

"Park, I think you've got a stomach bug." 

"I don't get sick," they pout. 

Eliot hums for a moment. "I know, darlin'." His tone is all softness now, none of the crisis-management-suppressing-a-trauma-response that had colored it before. "It's a virus, nothing you can do about it." 

"I got broken into." 

Alec smiles softly. Of course that's Parker's concern. "Sounds like it's a rare occurrence, babe."

Parker unburies themself enough that Bunny's ears poke out. They're pouting, but what's more noticeable is the sheen of sweat. Parker's left hand comes up to their mouth and then, quick as a flash, they have the trash can in their lap. 

Eliot comes into the warehouse just as they finish dry heaving. He rushes forward and takes the bin from their grip. "Hey, hey, there darlin'." Parker presses their forehead against Eliot's chest and he rubs their back firmly. "I've gotcha," he promises, standing beside Alec. Alec smiles, happy that Eliot's able to provide the physical reassurance that Parker doesn't always like to receive from Alec. 

He sets the bin aside when Parker squirms even closer to their partner, but Eliot gently tugs them back. He places the back of his hand on Parker's forehead and Alec is hit viscerally with the notion that Eliot learned that from his mother. He isn't able to ask about it though, and probably wouldn't if he had the time anyway, because Eliot says, "Got a bit of a temp there, Park." He removes his head, smoothing down Parker's stringy hair. 

They snuggle up against his chest again, sighing. 

"How about we get you back home?" 

"Uh uh." 

"I know, darlin'. Nice 'n safe here." He gives light scratches along their scalp and they shudder in contentment. "But you know Alec has only the best for us." 

Alec can't help but smile. Both the use of his first name and the trust in his security protocols. Unfortunately, Eliot treats sincerity from Alec like a loaded gun—or, maybe a nuke or a bioweapon. Point is, he doesn't take it too well when Alec gets emotionally vulnerable with him. So he suppresses his awestruck, loving smile and chuckles and says, "Plus I'm not seeing any toilets here and I'm guessing your guts are coming out one way or the other." 

Parker pouts but eventually agrees to be taken back to their apartment above the brewpub. Home, as Eliot had put it. 

They decide to take Lucille back. Eliot had driven his pickup over and Donna, as Alec had named her, doesn't contain near as many valuables. 

Alec drives and Eliot and Parker stay in the back with the trash can. Poor Lucille's going to reek by the time they get home. The way back feels even longer than his way over. The worry is still there, but different now. Parker's sick. Not dead, not missing. Sick. 

Yet, he suspects that caring for them through this will be even more difficult than finding them if they had run off. 

He remembers when Parker tore their ACL. To say that Parker doesn't like it when their body disobeys their commands is an understatement. 

Parker is out of the back the moment Alec parks and Eliot races after them, trash can in hand. Good thing Alec has a backstock of biohazard bags for whenever they need to clear out a building quickly. 

He takes care to lock up Lucille, pocketing his comm and making note to get Parker and Eliot's back. 

Alec hears rather than sees his partners when he joins them on the third floor of the brewpub. He can't make out the words, but he knows Eliot's soft tone and Parker's quiet sobs. He dawdles in the entryway, not wanting to interrupt. He knows how difficult it is for Eliot to give comfort and for Parker to receive it. 

Eventually, the bathroom quiets. Alec stops puttering around the staircase that leads to their floor and goes to the kitchen. Surely Eliot has some saltines somewhere. He glances into the doorway and he sees Eliot gingerly holding Bunny while Parker washes their hands. 

Eliot's eyes meet his own and Alec feels so weak in that moment. 

Eliot blinks and Alec's released. 

"How does some soup sound Park? Chicken noodle?" 

"Spaghettios?" they answer softly, taking Bunny back into their arms, shoulders hunching in. 

"That's not-" Alec hears Eliot reign in his knee-jerk response. "Okay, yeah, darlin'. If you think you can keep 'em down." 

Alec grabs a sleeve of crackers and a can of Spaghettios, setting them gently on the counter. 

"Parker, you wanna hole up on the couch or the bed?" Alec asks. He and Eliot exchange places, Alec coming to a stop beside Parker just outside the bathroom. 

Parker reaches out and fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "Couch," they answer softly. 

Alec presses a kiss into the temple before wrapping an arm around his partner. "Let's get you settled." 

"Feel yucky." 

"I know, babe," Alec promises. 

"My poops are weird." 

"That I… didn't know." 

Parker immediately curls up into a ball on the couch. 

"Weird how?" Eliot calls from beside the stove. He has Parker's Spaghettios heating up already. 

The two discuss the state of Parker's defecation for far longer and in far more detail than Alec thinks necessary. By the time they're done, Parker is pushing their bowl away and leaning heavily into Alec's side.

Eliot has settled across from them in his please-don't-touch-me-if-you-do-I-might-punch-you-on-accident chair, but his entire body is oriented toward Parker. From that distance, he must see something Alec doesn't, because he says, "Scale of one to ten?" 

Parker presses further against Alec, uncomfortable as always with Eliot's concern about their pain level. Honestly, Alec isn't sure which of his partners is worse about denying their body's pain signals. Humans evolved nociceptors for a reason, dammit. Ignoring that raw data is not what God and/or Charles Darwin would want. 

The silence stretches out past the point of Parker struggling to make words work and into the zone of Parker ignoring the question. Eliot starts to prod again, but Parker blurts out, "No drugs." 

Eliot's frown doesn't change shape, but it somehow becomes more indulgent. "No drugs for now," he agrees. "Number?' 

Parker squirms but eventually admits, "Eliot two. Hardison six." So a Parker four.

"Do you want to hold Molly?" Molly is Eliot's goose shaped heating pack. Of all the non-medication based pain management tools Alec's bought for Eliot over the years, Molly—and her siblings Carl the cow, Riley the Racoon, and Olivia the owl—is Parker's favorite. Parker is the one who insists Eliot names each out and it's not secret who Molly's namesake is, having been overnight shipped to Eliot's bolt hole not 24 hours after the beating at that carnival. That personal touch had only endeared Parker more to the goose. Still, with Bunny clutched tightly in their arms, Alec knows they'll hesitate. They never want to hurt their oldest friend's feelings. 

It's a relief when Parker agrees. Eliot retrieves her and, after a quick spin in the microwave, gently passes her to his partner. He goes to return to his seat but Parker loops a finger in his belt loop and tugs. 

Eliot, never able to deny his partner a thing, settles down on Parker's other side. 

Alec doesn’t doubt that the next couple of days will be difficult. But he feels confident that between his desire to fix Parker’s every hurt and Eliot’s yearning to take those hurts into himself, they’ll make it through.