The bullet hit the wall behind him, exploding like a small claymore and flinging shrapnel and brick backwards onto his head. He felt the small ceramic shards cut into his neck as he ducked, doing his best to evade any more possible gunshot. As he went down, a wave of dizziness hit him and he fell onto his backside, leaning on the wall that had just covered him in shrapnel. The ringing in his ears wouldn't go away and this just made his nausea worse.
Neal did his best to stay focused while Peter and the FBI detained the bad guys, including the one who fired off the sawn-off shotgun and its resulting buckshot so close to Neal's ear. Seeing his friend was down, Peter hurried over to Neal to check on him.
"Neal?" Peter said, worried. Neal was looking a bit confused and dazed, and a bit green around the gills. A little more concerned now, Peter tapped Neal on the cheek hoping to get him to focus on the agent. It sort of worked. Neal at least managed to lazily gaze at Peter. "Neal, can you hear me?"
Neal stared back for a moment, a goofy look on his face, before he scrunched it up as a sudden wave of pain hit him. "WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING" Neal yelled.
Peter just shook his head in disbelief. Great. He thought. He cupped Neal's shoulder with his hand, in aim to keep him upright, while medics were called.
~!~
Neal sat on the edge of his bed in the emergency ward, looking around at anything but the doctor, who was currently discussing his condition with Peter.
"There won't be any lasting hearing damage, but it might take him a couple of weeks to shake the ringing in his ears and the deafness. The piece of shrapnel sitting right near his eardrum should come out as long as he is persistent with those ear drops. I just couldn't reach it without putting him under and without causing more damage.' The doctor consulted his chart while Peter watched Neal carefully. "If he gets any headaches, or severe ear aches – you know ones that knock him off balance and give him vertigo – bring him back straight away."
Peter nodded, grateful that he would soon be able to take Neal home. "Thanks Doc, we're right to go –"
Just as he made clear he wanted to leave, a retching sound behind them made the doctor and Peter turn to Caffrey. Neal was clutching a small basin, being sick finally after holding it off for so long.
"He may not look so green now, Agent Burke. The young man did well to hold into it this long. Bear with me while I find some anti-nausea tablets." The doctor disappeared, taking Neal's full basin with him. Peter had gone to Neal's side so the young man rest against something without falling over. Peter took out his notepad and quickly scribbled something before showing Neal. Can you lip-read?
Neal nodded gently, not ready yet to talk.
The doctor returned with a small pill bottle and a cup of coloured water, both of which he offered to Neal. "Anti-Nausea tablets, take whenever you feel queasy" The doctor spoke a bit slower as he handed Neal the tablets and the cup. Neal must have told him already he can lip read. "This is an electrolyte liquid, perfectly safe to swallow with the tablets, get some nutrients back in you after that little session." Again Neal nodded gently.
Despite the anti-biotics and the pain-killers he had already taken, the ringing in his ears was still very prominent and he just wanted to go sleep in his bed at June's.
Being shot at Sucked.
~!~
A week went by and despite two days off, Neal's hearing hadn't improved. He'd spent two days with Peter and Elizabeth, trying to shake off the nausea and being mothered by Elizabeth. Once he returned to work, he was kind of useless anyway. He couldn't follow along with meetings and not everyone had been clued in that he could lip-read, so those from other departments who had heard he was injured who had flittered through, often wanting to talk to Peter or Hughes, would say things that weren't very nice, including their speculations on Neal's involvement with the death of Kate. The FAA were yet to release their findings and Neal and Mozzie were still trying to find the Music Box.
Neal didn't feel up to much today, however, so Peter had given him some easy cases to review – the good ones, not a mortgage fraud in sight. It was no use though because the longer he read, the more the words on the page began to swim. The ringing had softened a tiny bit, but it was still giving Neal a splitting headache and today, anything seemed to grate on him.
He hadn't been eating, the nausea from the loss of his hearing was putting Neal off food, and he was pretty much surviving on coffee, wine and water. This, combined with the ever persistent headache, followed Neal into the afternoon, and come just before three pm it had grown too much.
Peter had been watching Neal from a distance all day, leaving him alone, except when he offered to get Neal lunch. Not surprisingly he was turned down, but was surprised when, by the time he'd returned from the nearby Deli, Neal had gone a few shades paler, and sweat was beading on his brow.
Now, just as people were starting to leave for the day, he crouched beside Neal, tugging his shirt sleeve gently to let him know he was there. Bleary, red-rimmed eyes, glanced down at Peter before hiding back in his shaky hands. "You Ok?" Peter tapped in Morse on Neal's thigh. The younger man shook his head slightly before swallowing thickly. He moved slightly, looking back down at Peter before mouthing "Head". Neal had found it was better to not use his voice so as to avoid shouting. "Wait here," Peter said, waiting for Neal's slight nod to know he understood the agent.
Peter hurried up to his office and grabbed his belongings and coat, before heading back to Neal and collecting his own. Jones looked over at Peter as he bundled Neal into his coat and lightly throwing his hat on his head. Peter tilted his head at his colleague to indicate the two were leaving. Jones nodded in acknowledgement.
Once he had Neal in the Elevator, thankfully on their own, he was able to fully gauge the issues, the ear that had the shrapnel was bright red and looked as if it was moist as well, and even though his hat was low over his eyes, Peter could still see the exhaustion. He watched Neal's chest as the younger man drew shallower breaths to keep, what Peter suspected was, nausea at bay.
"Breathe, Neal, just breathe." Peter said more to himself than his friend.
"I –a-m" Neal said carefully, lack of use evident in his voice. He must have been watching Peter.
The breathing exercise didn't work because as soon as the Elevator doors opened for the parking garage, Neal bolted for the nearest, darkest corner, heaving.
Peter followed behind him, picking up the discarded hat. "Jesus, Neal".
~!~
Peter waited impatiently in the emergency room waiting area, tapping his foot repeatedly in his seat, earning glares from the nurses at the reception for breaking the silence of the near empty waiting area. He had called ahead to Neal's treating doctor, describing the issues the younger man was having. The two had been met with the Doctor and a wheelchair out front, wheeling Neal in as soon as they arrived.
Elizabeth came to the hospital once she had finished work. She had insisted upon it when Peter called. And now they waited.
~!~
Neal's doctor resurfaced just before seven pm, leading them through to Neal's room. He described that the shrapnel in his ear had caused an infection, which had partly been responsible for discouraging Neal from eating. He also directly injected the infection, hoping to help rid Neal's body of it.
"Once Neal wakes up from the anaesthesia he will be ok to take home. I made sure there was no shrapnel left and he should actually get his hearing back quicker, it will just be like he's under water for a few days though. Make sure he rests. And eats. I've got him on a drip at the moment."
Peter stood up from his seat beside Neal and shook the Doctor's hand. "Thanks Doc." He said.
The doctor smiled and left.
~!~
It took Neal a couple of hours to wake up but when he did there was some colour back in his cheeks and surprisingly the ringing had gone. He looked tired, sure, but at least the kid could smile again.
"There's that smile!" Elizabeth gushed when Neal smiled sheepishly at a lame joke Peter had made.
"Hey Peter?" Neal's voice was still rough from lack of use.
"Yeah Neal?"
"Keep me away from Sawn-offs and buckshot rounds." Neal paused to cough, "I like my hearing too much."