75 Godiva Street, Saturday Afternoon

[geniuswithasmartphone]

So, everything was terrible again. Hardison was pretty sure that Tony and his TA were evil, Eliot had brought home a version of Kathy that needed babysitting a lot more than she needed to be out heroing, there were slugs pretty much everywhere, and last night Eliot had insisted they all sleep down in the panic room in the basement. Which was actually more like a 'panic suite' because Eliot had built it and he was kind of extra about things, but even so, it was a little more claustrophobic than Hardison was comfortable with. He'd found himself calculating how much air was available in their hidey hole, which wasn't something he'd done since they'd moved from Portland.

That itchy restlessness hadn't left him, even when they'd all come back upstairs for brunch. He needed to get out for a little while. Do something. Spend some time in the open air while feeling useful. So once the meal was over, Hardison grabbed for his jacket and his laptop bag. A walk across the island to the school for some quality research time would hopefully settle him.

[Open for housemates and visitors!]

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[vdistinctive]

It wasn't, though. Not in Eliot's head. Not right now.

"You promise you won't leave while I'm out?"

[geniuswithasmartphone]

That was one of the reasons Hardison was trying to get him to sleep.

"Thieves' honor man," he said. "I'll be right there next to you when you fall asleep an' in the same damn spot when you wake up."

[vdistinctive]

"Alright," Eliot said, letting out a shaky breath. "I'll take the pills."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Hardison nodded. "Good," he said, and hugged Eliot hard. "You're doin' the right thing. You wanna crash out here? Or in the bedroom?"

He nodded Parker towards the bathroom, silently asking her to grab the sedatives.

[vdistinctive]

"Fuck. I don't know." Eliot didn't want to 'crash out' anywhere. He wouldn't say it out loud, and he kind of hated himself for it, but his main reason for agreeing was that him sleeping would keep Hardison in the house that much longer. "The couch. If somethin' attacks --"

He'd be too groggy to do anything about it. Please pardon Eliot while he tried not to hyperventilate.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Breathe, man, I need you to breathe," Hardison said, rubbing his hand over Eliot's back. "Breathe, an' count backwards from ten to one, hittin' each exhale."

He used the same instructions Eliot would tell him, back when he woke up from coffin nightmares.

"Ain't nothin' gonna attack. We'll keep a lookout an' if anything even looks hinky, we're gonna head down to the panic room."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot twitched away from that hand on his back, pissed at himself for needing instruction on how to breathe.

At least it was working.

"We should go back down there now. Just to be -- safe."

Yeah, he knew how he sounded.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Hardison took a deep breath and reminded himself that the panic room would probably feel a lot bigger when Eliot wasn't stalking around in it and that if he could insist Eliot face his irrational fears, Hardison was pretty much obligated to do the same.

"If that's gon' make you feel better, then we can do that," he said.

And afterwards, he was going, come hell or high waters.

...Actually, probably not if there were either of those things.