#leverage whump

[jordanstrophe]

Every day, Whumpee is brought to a room with a bolted chair, a tray of tools, and a mirror.

They're tortured to a brutal degree. Whumpee screams, sobbing through the pain, “Why!? Why are you doing th-this? Just tell me what you w-want!”

Their captors never speak; whumpee's never even heard their voices. Sometimes, they grab their face and force them to look into the mirror bleeding, shaking, barely conscious.

Then the moment ends, and it starts all over again.

On the other side of the glass sits Caretaker, watching while unharmed and being questioned.

Every time they don’t have an answer, whumpee takes the hit.

[my-beloved-lakes]

Ya know my brain loves to come up with all sorts of angsty/whumpy situations to put Eliot in, but today I think my brain finally did it. It came up with the single worst possible way to hurt Eliot👀 (without actually killing any of the main characters, that is.)

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Eliot's worsening wooziness.

Leverage Redemption S03E01 The Weekend in Paris Job.

[bokettochild]

Whump Writer Things I Guess

It's so weird being hit upside the head with normal. Like, I was watching a show with a friend, and over the course of the season finale, the main character gets injured. I don't really know how, I was very surprised at it in all honesty, but the man is bleeding rather profusely, DOES NOT FREAKING TELL ANYONE, and then gets captured by the enemy and chained up, only to then collapse the second his friends are out of sight, and I was just over here giggling and clapping my hands, (in true whump writer style) and going "oh goody! it's always better when they're injured!"

And my friend, my poor friend, who was just getting up to deal with his cat or smth, stops, freezes, and turns to me with this very concerned expression on his face like "what mad-woman have I allowed in my home, and where's the snarky li'l shit from earlier?"

And unlike with my siblings, I couldn't just say "I write whump" and have that be a catch all for everything. No; I had to actually explain myself!

It's so weird to realize again that a world exists, outside the internet, where seeing your blorbos in pain doesn't bring some small amount of delight but actually upsets people. Like, how dull! Those poor people! But also poor me for being seen like a psycho because I enjoy it a bit

[defire]

Gang whump prompt

Whumpee is in medical school when they are kidnapped by a mob boss to be a live-in doctor for their injured members.

[trekscribbles]

Failsafe: Chapter Six

...I came across the John Rogers line "Eliot's job is to be the failsafe that never fails". And I couldn't help thinking... What happens if the failsafe does fail?

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3.)

Parker regretted the words as soon as she said them. Don’t touch him. Like Eliot was dangerous, like he would hurt Hardison. But—he had. He hadn’t known it was Hardison, but he’d still hurt him, and Parker didn’t know what else he might do.

Her words had brought him to himself a little, or his name had—she didn’t know. She didn’t have time to ask. He stood back as Parker fell to her knees beside Hardison and ran her hands over his face, under his jaw, searching for a pulse.

She found it.

“He’s fine,” she said, her voice breathy with relief. ��It’s okay, he’s fine.”

Eliot didn’t answer. His eyes were unfocused, and he stared through her like she was nothing more than a shadow. She sat back uneasily, pointing her flashlight down at the ground. “Eliot?” she said.

He didn’t respond.

“Eliot,” she said again, putting a snap in her voice, and his gaze found hers. “We have to get him out.”

Something flickered over his expression, but should couldn’t read it. He didn’t move. The anxiety that had been bristling through her since they entered the basement bled into outright fear.

What had they done to him?

“Eliot,” she said. Then, when he still didn’t react, she made her voice strong and hard. “Eliot.”

He jerked forward a step, then moved past her and continued silently down the hall. For several painful heartbeats, she thought he was leaving her—but then she heard a metallic clatter, and he returned a few moments later with a wheeled stretcher.

“Get his feet,” Parker said, because he seemed to be responding better to directions. When they had Hardison settled on the stretcher, she added, “We cut off the power. The elevator won’t work. We’ll have to take the stairs.”

Still, he said nothing. Parker’s stomach twisted, but she pushed on, and she could hear Eliot’s nearly soundless steps behind her. She didn’t know what to do. Hardison would have been able to talk to him, would have known how to get rid of that horrible emptiness in his eyes, but she didn’t know what to say.

He’d attacked them. Eliot, her Eliot—the man in the surveillance video had turned him into something she didn’t recognize. He’d done bad things, she knew that, but this? Hurting Hardison? They had taken a piece of Eliot away, and she didn’t know how to put it back. 

Maybe no one could.

“Nate,” Parker said, pressing a finger to her earbud. “Nate? Can you hear me?” 

He didn’t answer, and she was getting tired of that. But she tried to sound neutral as she glanced over her shoulder and said, “Nothing yet. Our comms work upstairs—I’ll get him then. He and Sophie are on their way.”

She turned back to the stairs, barely visible beneath the exit sign, but Eliot shot past her before she could say anything else. She pressed against the stretcher, covering Hardison with one arm as a man materialized in the doorway. Eliot grunted as he took a hit to the abdomen, but drugged or not, this was still Eliot, and a single man was no match for him.

When Eliot knocked the man down—and he stayed down—Parker flicked her flashlight on and checked his face. It wasn’t anybody who worked at the hospital. She cast an uncomfortable look at Eliot. “How many more?”

He stood at the bottom of the steps, still blocking the unconscious man’s path to Parker and Hardison, his shoulders heaving slightly as he fought to catch his breath. She started to reach for his arm, but he deflated and flattened himself against the wall. “One,” he said, deferring to her again.

She swallowed and turned toward the stairs. “Help me with the stretcher.”

They carried Hardison up the steps, and when they reached the top, Parker checked Hardison’s breathing once more before looking toward the lobby. “Nate?”

“Parker,” he answered—finally.

Parker exhaled, long and slow to keep from startling Eliot. “We have him. Meet us out front.”

Eliot had dropped his hands from the stretcher, and stood looking past her with his arms loose at his sides. “Come on,” she said, trying to sound encouraging. They were almost there. Nate and Sophie would know what to do, how to bring Eliot back. They just had to get out to the parking lot, and everything would be okay.

Eliot came up beside her, and she shot him a hopeful glance—maybe he’d seen the van outside—but he darted toward the reception desk as another figure lunged at her.

Faster than she could follow, Eliot blocked the man’s attack and hurled him back against the desk, where he straightened and drew in a harsh breath. “Who the hell are you?”

Eliot squared his shoulders.

“You’re no doctor,” the man continued. “Who do you work for?”

There was a stutter in Eliot’s breath, as if something had hurt him, but Parker couldn’t see any injuries. She hesitated at Hardison’s side, unwilling to leave him, but suddenly afraid for how Eliot would fare in another fight. If she only had her taser…

“I took the wrong approach with you,” the man said, his voice low and cutting. “I tried to put you into a dream-like state, but I should have gone deeper. Dreams aren’t enough for you. You need a nightmare.”

That was enough. Parker snatched the flashlight from her belt and pushed the stretcher out of the way, gripping the metal handle as she tore across the lobby. She would get behind the other man and bring it down on his head as soon as Eliot gave her an opening.

He didn’t. He dropped back a step and slammed his fist up into the man’s jaw, then stood aside as he collapsed against the desk before sliding to the floor.

Eliot turned, his expression blank, and Parker lowered the flashlight. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but he had that distant look again, and she couldn’t handle any more silence. “Nate will be here any minute,” she said, desperate to reassure him. “Come on.”

He looked down, a nod without motion.

Parker left the flashlight and the security belt on the reception desk and jogged back to Hardison. “Get the door,” she said. More orders—anything to get him moving.

Eliot obeyed, holding the door so she could wheel the stretcher through, his head still lowered slightly. But it was okay now. They’d gotten Hardison out, and Nate would be turning into the parking lot any second, and it was almost over. She brought the stretcher up to the edge of the sidewalk and held in a cheer when headlights flashed through the darkness.

“Where are you?” Nate asked in her ear.

“Right in front of the door,” she answered. “Do you see us?”

“I see you,” Nate said. The van turned toward them, splashing light over the sidewalk. Parker watched it approach, her heart pounding, and started pushing the stretcher forward.

“Parker,” Sophie said uncertainly. “Is that a stretcher? Is that—is that Hardison?”

“I’ll explain when we get inside,” Parker said.

The van pulled in front of her, and Nate leaned his head through the open window. “Where’s Eliot?”

Parker’s stomach dropped. She spun toward the hospital to call him back from where he’d been holding the door, but it was shut. The sidewalk was empty.

Eliot was gone.

[thieves-never-say-die]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Leverage (US TV 2008) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Parker & Astrid Pickford, Sophie Devereaux & Parker (Leverage) Characters: Parker (Leverage), Astrid Pickford, Sophie Devereaux (Leverage), Breanna Casey, Tara Cole Additional Tags: Leverage: Redemption (2021), Episode: s03e05 The Grand Complication Job (Leverage: Redemption), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Whump, Parker (Leverage) whump, this is twice as long as I intended it to be, yes the title is a pun. I couldn't think of anything better Summary:

“What have I done?” The knife slipped from Astrid’s fingers, clattering against the concrete. “I stabbed you!” Astrid said, her voice breaking. “I stabbed me,” Parker corrected. “Gotta give whoever’s watching us a show, right?” An AU where Parker does in fact get stabbed on the rooftop.

[shewhorunsmazes]

“Ai is the future; the future is now. And sucks. The future is both now and sucks.” - Breanna

just like with thelma… those scammers really scammed the wrong meemaw… also… we got some genuine harry whump this episode! which really has me thriving

[my-beloved-lakes]

@leveragetober

Leveragetober

Prompt 24: Blood

In which Eliot realizes he is actually bothered by blood... when it belongs to someone he loves. (Under the cut)

Eliot Spencer had had blood on his hands many times before. Sometimes it was his and sometimes it wasn't. It had been a long time since the sight of blood had bothered him, but this was different. This was Hardison's blood.

Eliot's stomach lurched as more blood oozed between his fingers as he pressed more pressure on the stab wound on Hardison's stomach.

Hardison let out a cry of pain and clasped one hand over his mouth.

"It's okay Hardison." Eliot said. "Just stay with me. The others are on their way. We're gonna get you to a hospital, okay. Just hold on."

Hardison whimpered and clutched at Eliot's arm.

"Eliot, we called an ambulance, it's on its way." He heard Sophie's voice over the comms. "We're almost there too."

Eliot felt Hardison's grip on his arm loosen, his eyes drooped closed.

"Hey, stay with me, Hardison!" Eliot's chest grew tight with panic. "Damnit Hardison! Stay with me!" His voice shook.

Hardison didn't respond.

"Come on, open your eyes! Say something, anything! Just stay with me!" Eliot begged.

Eliot felt more blood seep between his fingers and looked down at the puddle that was forming on the pavement.

That's too much! Eliot thought. Too much blood!

Finally, Eliot heard the distant wailing of sirens getting closer, and a minute later an ambulance was pulling into the parking lot. Two paramedics jumped out, grabbed the stretcher and rushed over.

"We'll take it from here." One of them said, pulling Eliot away.

"Eliot!"

He watched helplessly as they lifted Hardison onto the stretcher and loaded him into the back of the ambulance. Cold dread washed over him as the ambulance sped away, leaving him completely alone, covered in his best friend's blood.

Eliot spun around when he heard Parker's voice behind him and saw Sophie, Nate and Parker rushing towards him.

"Eliot, where is he?" Parker demanded.

Eliot opened his mouth trying to form an explanation, but his throat felt all dried up and no words came out. He swallowed hard and tried again.

"Paramedics took him." Is all Eliot managed to say.

He took a few deep breaths then said "We gotta get to the hospital." 

Eliot started for the van, but Nate put out a hand to stop him.

"You go home." Nate said firmly. "Get cleaned up. We'll go to the hospital and let you know as soon as there's any updates."

"No." Eliot argued. "No. I have to--"

"Eliot!" Nate cut him off. "You're covered in blood. Go home. We'll make sure Hardison is okay."

Eliot gave in. He felt too empty inside to put up a real fight.

"I'll take you home." Sophie offered, seeing how lost Eliot looked. She had never seen him this shaken up before and it made her wonder just how bad it had been.

"Come on." Sophie said and laid a hand on Eliot's shoulder. "We can meet them at the hospital as soon as you get cleaned up."

***

Eliot felt a twisting pain in his stomach at the sight of the red stain soaking his shirt and covering his hands.

It's just blood. Eliot tried to tell himself.

It's Hardison's blood! His mind screamed back.

Eliot pulled his shirt off and tossed it in the trash can. Then look at his hands covered in blood. They trembled uncontrollably as he held them under the faucet and scrubbed. The blood wasn't coming off. Eliot scrubbed more than added some soap. Finally. the last of the blood was gone from his hands.

Eliot clutched the edge of the sink and bowed his head.

How did I let this happen?

He looked up when he heard Sophie knock on the bathroom door.

"Eliot, Nate just called." She said.

Eliot flung the door open so fast it swung back and hit the wall.

Sophie jumped a little.

"Hardison's out of surgery." She said, "The doctor's said he's responding well to the blood transfusion. They think he's gonna be okay."

Eliot nearly collapsed with relief.

"He's still unconscious from the anesthesia, but he'll probably wake up soon." Sophie added.

***

Eliot sat in the chair next to Hardison's bed, flipping absentmindedly through the pages of his book as he waited for Hardison to wake up. He looked up hopefully when he heard Hardison stirring in the bed. He waited a minute, hoping Hardison would wake up, but nothing happened.

Eliot closed his book and set it aside. He slouched down in the chair with a sigh and waited some more.

After a few minutes Hardison began to stir in his sleep more, then he reached his hand up and grabbed at the oxygen tube under his nose. Eliot stood up quickly and grabbed Hardison's hand and gently pulled it away.

"Leave that alone." Eliot said softly.

He scooched his chair closer to the bed with one hand and sat back down, still holding Hardison's hand in his other.

"Eliot...?" Hardison mumbled.

"I'm right here." Eliot said soothingly.

Hardison slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at Eliot.

"What happened?" He asked, drowsily.

"You don't remember?"

Hardison shook his head.

"A couple of the mark’s goons attacked you. They uh... they stabbed you. I tried to get to you sooner, but..." Eliot trailed off. "Hardison, I'm really sorry." He finally finished.

Hardison shook his head.

"Don't be." He mumbled. "Where’re the others?"

Eliot was glad for the change of subject. He didn't really want to think about what had happened anymore.

"Parker went to get coffee and donuts, she should be back any minute. Nate and Sophie had to wrap up the con. He thought the goons might come back to try and finish the job if we didn't take them down soon." Eliot explained.

It wasn't long after that that Parker came back with a box of donuts and a couple of coffees. Her face lit up when she saw that Hardison was awake. She rushed over and set the food down on the small table beside the bed before sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Hardison.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Horrible." Hardison mumbled.

Hardison had a habit of over exaggerating the extent of his injuries, but this time Eliot knew there was no exaggeration. 

"Well, you're gonna be okay, thanks to Eliot." Parker said.

No. Eliot thought. It's my fault he's here in the first place. If I had just gotten to him a little faster, I could have stopped this.

He knew the others didn't see it that way, but nothing they could say would change his mind. He had been too slow, and it nearly got Hardison killed.

"I'll be back in a minute." Eliot said, standing up from his chair.

As soon as he was out in the hallway he leaned against the wall and slid slowly to the ground. He leaned his head back and took a shaky breath. A tear slipped down his face as all his emotions finally caught up with him, the fear, the relief, the guilt. It all spilled over.

[aceofwhump]

Leverage: Redemption 3x01

[shyday-ao3]

so nate just gets shot like once a season then? not that i'm complaining...

would've started it sooner had i known

[just-here-for-the-whump]

Leverage 5x9 The Rundown Job

[lemissingmask]

[ID: Greyscale sketch with blood in red, showing Eliot holding an ice pack to the right side of his ribs and glaring at the viewer, his eye and nose sporting deep red bruising around a few cuts. End ID]

-

Whumptober starts tomorrow!

I’ve not had much drawing time this year, so decided to use whumptober mostly as a chance to get back into arting and play with some different styles, as well as practice drawing a greater range of fandoms. So there’s going to be more variety in whumpee this year, and not entirely sure yet if I’ll even manage to complete it on time 😅😅😅 We shall see!

[trekscribbles]

Failsafe: Chapter Three

...I came across the John Rogers line "Eliot's job is to be the failsafe that never fails". And I couldn't help thinking... What happens if the failsafe does fail?

Chapter One Chapter Two

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3.)

The heat was everywhere—liquid fire racing through his veins, pumping poison deeper into his body with every straining heartbeat. He felt individual drops of sweat beading on his forehead, but they did nothing to cool the feverish flush under his skin, the sensation of broken glass and molten lead. His breath snagged in his dry throat.

Rapid breathing, said a faint, clinical voice in his head. Elevated heart rate. Dizziness. Counter with slow, deep breaths.

He inhaled, forcing air into burning lungs, and stared up at the ceiling.

“What do you know?” asked the man next to him.

“Know?” Eliot grated out. “About what?”

The man touched his arm, and he tried to flinch away. Something held his wrist down.

“What do you know about Dr. Grossman?” the man said patiently.

Dr. Grossman. The mark. He was here to talk to him, to find out—

No. Focus on something else.

There were halos around the lights, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“What do you know about Dr. Grossman?” the man repeated.

“He’s a doctor,” Eliot said.

“Yes,” the man said. Eliot heard a smile in his voice. “So are you. You realized something about his patients, didn’t you? Something about the drugs he was using.”

Scopolamine overdoses. Patient deaths. Dr. Gatraer came to them, came to Nate.

Can’t think about Nate.

“Scopolamine,” Eliot said. “And solanumine. That’s what you gave me.”

The man laughed. “Solanumine only, I’m afraid. It shows up as scopolamine on a tox screen because the compositions are so similar. That’s the beauty of it. No one even knows what we’re testing.”

“But why…” Eliot panted. “Why did… I…?”

The man’s voice oozed false sympathy. “I apologize, that would be the solanumine at work. It causes… well, let’s call it brain fog. It makes you more susceptible to questioning. So let’s have it, Dr. Baker. There’s no point in fighting it. The solanumine won’t let you.”

A spike of fear ripped through him—he had to fight, had to keep things back, had to protect—but no, he didn’t. He was Dr. Baker. The man had just said so, hadn’t he? Dr. Baker didn’t have anything to hide.

“The truth now,” the man said.

“The truth,” Dr. Baker agreed. “I talked him. Grossman.”

The man stepped closer. “About what?”

“Baseball,” Dr. Baker said.

“What else?”

“He asked if I had a pen.”

“What else?”

“Cafeteria food. He told me… avoid the jello. Haven’t had jello since I was a kid.”

The man took a frustrated breath. “What about the drugs? Did he tell you where he was getting his supply?”

So that’s what this was about. The supplier would have had Grossman under surveillance, and he couldn’t risk discovery—this man, he was connected, was possibly the supplier himself, possibly a lieutenant—but Dr. Baker wouldn’t know that, so he shuffled it to the back of his mind and centered his attention on the numbness spreading through his fingers.

“Grossman didn’t want to… talk about his work,” he said.

There was a long pause. A boot scraped over the floor, and Eliot turned his head automatically toward the sound.

“Interesting,” the man said quietly. “You’re resisting. Avoiding my questions.”

Eliot didn’t answer. A tight feeling worked its way across his chest, like something heavy was being pushed onto his ribs.

“You’ve received training,” the man said. “Where?”

Training. Tactical analysis, interrogation resistance, weapons proficiency, field combat.

Grifting. Acting. Character backstory. 

“Medical training,” Dr. Baker said. “MD program… University of Nebraska, Om—Omaha center.”

The man pushed away from the table. “All right, then. If you won’t cooperate, let’s try another dose.”

Eliot jerked his arm, but the restraints held fast.

“It’s hard to get it right the first time,” the man said. “And if you’ve had experience with this kind of thing in the past… if you’ve built up a tolerance...”

Leather dug into Eliot’s right wrist, plastic into the other. A zip tie, replacing the strap he’d torn free.

“You’re already experiencing physical symptoms,” the man went on. “Headache, sensitivity to light, tachycardia. That will increase with another dose. It should stimulate more of a psychological reaction as well. Confusion. Obedience. Possible paranoia. Of course, there are risks—we should be monitoring your heart rate and blood pressure, but unfortunately, they don’t keep that kind of equipment in the morgue.”

Eliot turned his wrist under the strap, but it didn’t stop the needle. Pain seared up his arm, through his chest—he drew in a stuttering breath, grinding his teeth together to keep from crying out.

“Let’s try this again,” the man said. “You’re here to find out about Dr. Grossman’s supplier.”

“Yes.”

The word dragged itself through Eliot’s teeth, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

The man grinned. “And who are you working for?”

“Inde… independent contractor.”

“The name.”

There was blood in his mouth. His breath came in short gasps, faster and shallower with every heartbeat. “Name,” he said, his voice grating and raw. “What’s yours?”

“All right,” the man said conversationally. “If it makes you feel better, you can call me Hart. Your turn.”

 “It’s—it doesn’t matter. It’s fake.”

“What is?”

“My name,” Eliot rasped. “My boss’s name. Fake. All of them.”

“What does your boss want with Dr. Grossman?”

“The supplier.” Eliot tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. His chest was heaving now. “Sup-supply—The—”

“He’s hyperventilating,” murmured one of Hart’s men. “He’ll pass out if he doesn’t calm down.”

Hart sighed. “Get him a sedative. But keep him conscious—we’re finally getting somewhere.”

Eliot thrashed, but it was useless—another needle slid into his skin, pushing more drugs into his system, and his racing heart slowed. It shouldn’t have worked so quickly, but then, he couldn’t be sure how much time had passed. That was the problem with sedatives. It might have been 30 seconds or 30 minutes. He couldn’t tell. 

His eyes drifted closed. His muscles began the agonizing process of forced relaxation.

He let out a long exhale and laid still.

“Dr. Baker,” Hart said. “Look at me.”

Eliot didn’t move.

“Dr. Baker.” A pause. “Dammit, you gave him too much. No, no more doses. We have to keep him alive until we know who he’s working for. Get him up, we’ll take him back to Mr. Rosner. He can finish the interrogation.”

Hands on his again, on his wrists, his ankles. The straps fell away. A blade severed the zip tie. Someone gripped under his arm to sit him up.

Eliot bolted upright and grabbed the man next to him, throwing him into Hart. He kicked off the table, stumbled—the light speared through his eyes, so he closed them and pictured the room and the men in it. A step to his right; he pivoted to catch the punch he felt coming, knocked it away, jabbed back. A body fell at his feet. A clatter of tools on a tray—scalpels, knives—what else? Did any of them have guns? He couldn’t remember.

Memory loss. Side effect of the sedative.

A fist caught Eliot in the cheek, knocking him back against the table. He brought up his elbow to block the next punch. Missed. The force of the blow knocked him off balance, and for a second he was too disoriented to move—but his opponent grunted and gave away his position, and Eliot struck, shoved back, stepped away.

They weren’t where he thought they were. The sedative may not have knocked him out, but it had dulled his reactions. His perceptions were compromised. He couldn’t trust himself. 

It didn’t matter. As long as he was awake, he had to fight.

When the next punch came at his stomach, he turned it aside and countered with an elbow to the other man’s face. Hands on his shoulder yanked him toward the table. He twisted beneath them and snapped a jab into someone’s mouth.

Everything went dark.

Eliot blinked hard, opening his eyes to the lack of cutting light, but there was nothing.

Ocular distress. Pressure on the optical nerves. Blindness.

The men around him hesitated, and Eliot did what he was trained to do and took advantage of their confusion. Another man went down.

“Go,” Hart shouted. “Leave him. Get back to Rosner.”

The men scattered for the door, and Eliot staggered against the table, breathing heavily. Hart was escaping. Could he let them escape? What had he told him? He’d thought about Nate—about the team. Had he said their names? He couldn’t remember. Hart had asked him who he was working for, and he’d—yes, he’d said Nate’s name. He’d put him in danger. Put the whole team in danger.

He couldn’t let them leave the building.

Eliot took a breath, spat blood from his mouth, and followed the men into the hall.

[thieves-never-say-die]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Leverage (US TV 2008) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eliot Spencer & Harry Wilson (Leverage), Background Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer - Relationship Characters: Harry Wilson (Leverage), Eliot Spencer (Leverage), Sophie Devereaux (Leverage), Parker (Leverage), Breanna Casey, Alec Hardison Additional Tags: Leverage: Redemption (2021), Redemption Season 1, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Take me instead, Whump, Eliot Spencer Whump, Kidnapped, Hostage Situation Series: Part 18 of bad things happen bingo Summary:

“Take that one as collateral,” Fisher said, jerking his chin at Harry. A guard stepped forward and grabbed Harry’s arm, yanking him to his feet. Harry shouted in surprise, and Eliot rose with him, shoulder checking Harry out of the way with a growl—Harry wasn’t sure how he managed to stand, given the blood staining his jeans. Eliot offers to be the hostage when he and Harry are kidnapped together.

BTHB: take me instead

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

"How much time do we have before Eliot runs out of air?"

Leverage S05E13 The Corkscrew Job.

(Now with added fic!)