Twelve hours after the shooting, Neal was still sitting on the edge of his seat in the waiting room. He was an absolute wreck earlier, so he'd sent Mozzie a text, asking him to pick up Nicky and text a few of their mutual friends about Peter. He could barely handle telling Mozzie about it. He didn't think he could handle telling his and Peter's friends. The moment he looked down at his clothes, he started hyperventilating. He'd gone with the ambulance straight from the scene once he flashed his badge and said they're married. Because of this, he hadn't had time to go home and change nor did he think he could force himself to do so.

Doubling over, he held his head in his hands and shut his eyes tightly. The smell of Peter's blood on himself was intoxicating and he couldn't make it go away. He wasn't too sure that he wanted it to go away. He wanted the image of his husband bleeding out on the sidewalk to leave though. He'd held Peter against him while the ambulance was prepping to put him on a gurney.

In the absolute silence of the waiting room, he could hear the gunshot and see the face his husband made just before he collapsed. He was terrified by the thought that Peter might die. He'd taken a shot to the chest and Neal had no idea whether or not it'd hit anything major.

He was angry with himself because of the argument they'd had at home that kept them tense even as they arrived at work. He was going to apologize himself once Peter clutched his hand, but he never got the chance. He hadn't even told Peter he loved him all that morning. If Peter died, he would die without hearing Neal swear he loved Peter.

The tears began to roll down his cheeks as the whole thing replayed over and over in his head. He'd started the fight with Peter over something so trivial. Peter forgetting to do the laundry shouldn't have made that big of a fuss, but Neal was upset because he offered to do the dishes if Peter did the laundry. Peter ended up distracted by work and hadn't done his chore, so Nicky wasn't able to wear the outfit Neal thought would be just perfect for picture day.

Now he was able to look back and reflect on how ridiculous the whole thing was. He regretted not telling Peter he loved him at least once. He didn't stop loving Peter because of the laundry, but he assumed he'd never have the chance to tell Peter he loves him and hear the same thing in return.

Neal was so convinced that his husband was going to die and that made him sob. He felt terrible. There were agents out there trying to find who'd taken a shot at Peter and he was sitting in a hospital waiting room alone just to hear them eventually tell him that they were sorry, but his husband was dead. "Sweetie," Elizabeth breathed in a rush as she came through the door to find Neal in a very emotional state. She knelt in front of him, setting her purse down beside her and placed her hands on Neal's thighs. "Oh, sweetie, you're not alone," she said reassuringly, wanting him to know he had her support. As soon as Mozzie told her, she rushed out of work and got to the hospital as quickly as she could. He rubbed his face and exhaled shakily, nodding as his eyes met Elizabeth's. "Have you heard anything yet?" she asked gently.

"No. No one's told me anything." El nodded sympathetically. "I'm so scared. What if he's already dead and has been since the ambulance?"

"He's going to make it. You and I both know he's too stubborn to die." He forced a laugh and she rubbed his thighs slowly in the hopes of calming him. "Peter loves you too much to let a bullet separate you two."

Neal stared at her, his bright blue eyes dulled. "They think it might've hit something serious. That's all I heard in the ambulance. I don't know anything and that's what's eating at me the most." He ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily. "I don't know if my husband is going to come home with me after making his recovery—if there is a recovery."

Elizabeth frowned, looking at Neal's clothes for the first time since arriving. "Sweetie, he's not going to leave you. It would take an apocalypse to make that only slightly possible." She thought it was a very light joke until Neal started crying again. She crawled up into the seat beside him and pulled him close. "He's going to be okay, Neal. Peter won't leave you." She stroked his hair and let him cry it out. When he was quiet again, she gently nudged him. "We need to get you out of those clothes. Will you come downstairs with me?" She watched as his eyes drifted toward the doors he'd been waiting for someone to come through—with good or bad news, but hopefully good news. "It might be a little while before a doctor comes out. You're in a bloody shirt, sweetie." He eventually nodded and they rose together. She held his hand as she took him down to a shop and bought him a new, generic shirt. She let him pick it out because it seemed to make him feel a little bit better.

He changed in the men's room and they went back upstairs to the waiting room afterwards. He sat forward with his elbows on his knees, his fingers laced together underneath his chin. "Thank you for coming, El," he whispered. "I…couldn't ask Moz to come because he's taking care of Nicky and I…can't…" El hugged him, understanding completely, before he erupted into tears. "How do you tell your baby that his poppa's dead?" he asked hysterically, gasping for breath.

She rubbed his back, burying her face in his neck. "Sweetheart, it's okay," she whispered against his neck. "Peter's okay. You'll see."

Not even an hour later, a doctor finally came out. Neal's head lifted out of his hands and El saw the hope in his eyes. "Family of Peter Burke?" Neal jumped up and was in front of the doctor within milliseconds. Elizabeth joined him, standing at his side. "Can I ask what your relations are to the patient?"

Neal firmly stated, "I'm Neal Burke, Peter's husband." Gesturing to El, he added, "And she's a very close and dear friend to us both." El looked up at Neal and saw challenge glinting in his eyes. He was daring the female doctor to make some kind of homophobic comment and El knew he was going to be hostile. She put her hand on his arm and he relaxed a little.

The doctor nodded. "Mister Burke," she said softly. Neal's heart wasn't sure if it wanted to flutter or sink. He held his breath until she said, "Your husband is stable. We're going to be transferring him to ICU shortly and then you should be able to see him." Neal burst into tears of relief, beyond grateful to hear those words. "The bullet was mere millimeters from his heart and he lost a lot of blood. Fortunately, he was stabilized and is on the mend. He's a very lucky man."

"Thank you," he breathed, rubbing his eyes. He turned to El and hugged her tightly, whispering, "He's alive," into her hair.

"Told you, sweetheart," she said softly. She squeezed him before letting go so she could look up at him. "Have faith in your hubby, dear."

Neal was able to calm down a little once he got the good news. He texted Mozzie and Elizabeth texted Diana. Mozzie's word would get around their circle of friends and Diana's would circulate the bureau. They'd been shown to the ICU waiting room and he was eager to be given permission to enter the room to see his husband.

Another doctor came through the doors and knew right away that he was Peter's family. She gestured for him to come over and he did. "He's still unconscious, but would you like to see him?" Neal nodded without the slightest hint of hesitation. As Peter's husband, Neal should be the first to visit. Elizabeth wanted him to get in there so he could completely relax and see for himself that Peter was alive. "This way, Mister Burke." Neal, now that he was feeling better, felt a little thrill in being called Mister Burke. He loves his surname because, to him, it means he belongs to someone. He belongs to Peter and he made that very clear on numerous occasions by outright telling Peter that Peter owned him. If Peter owned him, Peter was alive.

As soon as Neal was shown into the room, his heart fluttered. The doctor left him alone to give him space and he was grateful for that. He moved towards a chair and dragged it closer to the bed, plopping down into it at Peter's bedside. He sighed heavily, blinking back tears as he reached over to take his husband's hand. He laughed lightly to himself, whispering, "It's so strange being on this side of the hospital bed." He took Peter's left hand in both of his and caressed it. "I'm so used to you being right here, waiting for me to wake up to your handsome face." He gently squeezed Peter's fingers, smiling softly at his unconscious husband. He felt ridiculous for talking to himself, but he made himself think he was talking to Peter and that Peter was slightly aware of his presence. "I'm not leaving your side, babe. I'm going to be right here when you wake up."

Neal stayed overnight after calling Nicky to tell him that his poppa was okay. Nicky was relieved, but he was worried about his daddy now and he expressed that directly to Neal. Neal reassured him that he was fine and that he was just staying until he was sure Peter was okay and conscious. He said good night to his son once Nicky finally believed that he wasn't lying when he said he was fine. He'd fallen asleep not too long after that, slumped over Peter's hospital bed, holding Peter's hand. He only slept because he knew Peter was all right.

Around three-thirty in the morning, Peter was slowly coming into consciousness. When he came out of his daze, he flexed his fingers and wasn't entirely surprised to feel someone else's fingers. He caressed those fingers, knowing their owner worried sick about him. Without even opening his eyes, he knew Neal was right there. He felt Neal's left hand and found his wedding ring. The older man smiled to himself before finally opening his eyes to see his husband's sleeping form hunched over the bed.

He was glad Neal was there with him. It was his way of knowing he was alive and that this was reality. He vaguely remembered what happened, but he didn't understand all of it. He remembered fighting with Neal, but he couldn't remember about what. He remembered driving to the bureau, getting out of his car, and walking towards Neal to take his hand. And then everything was darkness after that.

Prying his hand away from Neal's hands slowly, his lifted his hand to tangle his fingers in Neal's hair. He slowly raked his fingers through the soft strands, admiring his husband. Neal shifted a little and smiled subconsciously. A few moments later, his eyelids began to flutter until they were barely open. He met Peter's gaze and smiled sleepily at him. "Hey, baby," Peter whispered.

"Hey, love," Neal whispered back. He closed his eyes again and then they flew open and he stared up at Peter. "You're awake." Peter nodded and let Neal sit up, dropping his hand back to the mattress to rest on Neal's. "How do you feel?"

Peter squeezed Neal's fingers. "Sore and tired. Happy you're here."

Neal got up and leaned over to kiss Peter, whispering, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

"What about Nick?"

"Moz is babysitting. They both know you're okay."

Peter gave Neal an affectionate smile. "I love you for being here."

Neal didn't move his left hand away from Peter's hand, but he lifted his right hand to stroke Peter's hair back a bit. "You're my husband," he said softly. "I wouldn't leave you."

The two men relaxed together. Peter asked Neal to get on the hospital bed with him and he tried to lay down without hurting Peter, which he'd accidentally done once or twice. Once he'd finally laid down beside Peter, the older man couldn't stop staring and smiling at him. "I love you."

"And I love you," Neal said, his voice shaking. Peter's brows furrowed as he watched his husband's expression shift from controlled and tired to tired and emotional. Peter didn't get to ask him what was wrong before Neal answered. "I felt so terrible when I was waiting to hear about your condition. Peter, I had this horrible feeling that you weren't going to make it and you didn't get to hear me tell you I love you one last time. I can't live with that—I need you to know I love you."

He was trembling and Peter knew this was really hard for Neal and he understood because he'd been there. He'd been the one waiting to hear about Neal's condition. After Neal's suicide attempt nearly succeeded, Peter sobbed like never before. Losing Neal would have destroyed him and he figured that Neal would feel the same way if he lost him. "Hon, I know you love me. Even if you don't say it, I know it."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm so sorry for fighting with you—and about the laundry of all things." Peter shook his head, stroking Neal's arm soothingly. "If I'd lost you, that would've been our last conversation. It wouldn't have been sweet and us. It would've been me acting like an asshole over something so stupid."

"I can't remember anything we said," Peter whispered. Neal just stared at him, quiet. "I know we fought. I can't remember why or what was said."

Neal sighed and shifted onto his right side a little more comfortably. He rested his left hand on Peter's stomach even though his shoulder screamed at him. "I'm sorry anyway. I could've lost you, Peter. I would never be able to live with myself for arguing with you before you…"

Peter nodded, understanding. "Well, I love you," he whispered. "I'll always love you. I don't care what happens between us. Nothing you do or say and nothing anyone else does or says will make me not love you." He touched Neal's hand, giving his husband a small smile. "I won't leave you here alone," he whispered.

"El said you wouldn't," Neal said quietly, laughing lightly. "She came to check up on me and stayed for a while. She…helped me and told me you'd make it."

"I'm glad she was there for you," Peter whispered. "I hoped you weren't suffering alone."

Neal sighed. "Diana and Jones are still trying to figure out who the gunman was and why they took a shot at you when they did," he said quietly. "I didn't have a chance to look for myself. By the time my shock wore off, you'd just fallen down. I tried to help you." He looked lost and it made Peter's heart ache. "I tried… Mouth to mouth wasn't working and I was afraid to do compressions because your chest was bleeding. I'm sorry, Peter. I didn't do anything helpful."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Peter said, shifting his hand up to touch Neal's face. "Hon, obviously you did something to help. I'm here, aren't I?" Neal frowned. "Hon, the CPR might've saved my life while the ambulance was en route."

"I guess."

"No. You know you saved me. I know you saved me. Take credit for that." Neal snuggled closer to Peter, making sure he was careful enough. He didn't want to hurt Peter at all. "Thank you, honey, for being the first response."

Neal leaned closer, kissing Peter. "You're my husband. I couldn't just walk away or stand there." Peter gave him a soft smile that touched his eyes. He was grateful to have this man in his life for so many reasons. "Superman doesn't die," he whispered.

Peter chuckled, bumping noses with Neal. "No. No, he doesn't." He pulled Neal over enough to have the younger man's head resting on his shoulder. His left arm was wrapped around Neal's torso. He rubbed Neal's back until the younger man was asleep. When Neal was asleep, he himself was able to drift off with the feeling of safety, security, and love.

•◊•

"Honey, this is really unnecessary…"

"Um, shut up. Please." Peter looked up at his husband as he was pushed around leisurely in a wheelchair throughout the floor they were on. "You always do so much for me," Neal said quietly. "I owe you and this is the least I could do."

Peter lifted his hand to reach behind him, touching Neal's hand. "You don't owe me anything, angel." Neal groaned, shaking his head. He'd been carting Peter around the hospital in a wheelchair for almost a week during times where Peter wasn't feeling up to actually walking and Peter really didn't like feeling so useless. "How's Nicky doing?"

"He misses you and has kept telling me repeatedly he wants you home as well as repeatedly asking me when you'll come home. Because he hasn't visited you yet due to the fact that you were slipping in and out of consciousness frequently, I'll bring him here after I pick him up from school—assuming you're okay with him being here."

The older man smiled when Neal gently squeezed his hand. "He's our son. I don't have any issue with him being here." He sighed. "I miss him, too, and I can't wait to go home to be with you both. I keep dragging you away from being at home and taking care of Nicky. He's—"

"He's my boy and he understands that I'm extremely worried about you," he interjected, leaning down enough to press a quick kiss atop his husband's head. "Moz and El have been alternatively taking care of him when I'm not home. Nick slept with me the last few nights and said he didn't want me to feel alone."

"God. Neal, I love Nicky so damn much. He has such a beautiful heart and he's so respectful." He closed his eyes, knowing he was making Neal's heart flutter because Neal always loved when his son was genuinely complimented. He knew Nicky worried about Neal and he loved their son all the more for keeping Neal close company while he's been in the hospital. Neal needed someone to ground him at home and Nicky did that by offering as much support as he could. "You've done a fantastic job at raising him properly."

Neal's left hand slid over Peter's shoulder. "I raised him the way I raised myself, essentially. If I wanted respect, I respected them. If I wanted a friend, I treated them as I'd treat a friend. Et cetera."

"He's the sweet boy of a beautiful man. There's no room in either of you for cruelty."

"Damn right," Neal murmured. "Little brat isn't going to be raised like some people's children. I seriously can't stand how disrespectful some of these kids are nowadays. Nick's never gotten into fights at school before fighting with Trent and I'm relieved that that was resolved and that the two of them are close. Nick's a good kid."

Peter nodded, agreeing with Neal totally. "Speaking of Trent, didn't you tell me Nick's hosting a sleepover tonight?"

"Yes, I did. He asked a couple of the boys at school if they wanted to spend the night with him to watch some movie that I have yet to discover the title and rating of."

Peter chuckled and winked. "You'll have a blast with the kids, daddy."

Neal cringed. "Ew. No." Peter laughed. "When you're referring to me in front of him, that's okay. Other than that, don't be like those teenagers. I'm younger than you, so I can't be your sugar daddy anyway."

"I'm really glad there's, what, three or four years between us?"

"Yep."

Peter looked up at him again. "I can't see us being like teenagers. If we ever went to some kind of dance together, I'm fairly certain I wouldn't hump you in public." Neal laughed that time. "I might stand behind you with my arms around you, but I'm not about to grind into your ass like that."

"That your gray hair talking? Because I know your dick wants to be all over me."

"If you let me stand up, I'll promptly give you a smack on the ass." Neal grinned, stopping in a sitting area. He positioned Peter at an angle near the chair he was going to seat himself in. When Neal came around, Peter swatted his ass, eliciting a quiet yelp. Peter smirked up at him. "That's for being a smartass—and mentioning gray hairs."

Neal mock-glared at him. "You're lucky your ass is in a wheelchair." He took a seat and sighed, relaxing into it. "I'm just glad you're playful about it," he said, chuckling. "I'd kill you if you hit me hard enough to make it hurt when I sat down. You do that enough with the hot sex."

Peter burst into a fit of quiet laughter, reaching over to rest his hand atop Neal's. "I'll playfully swat your ass anytime, baby. You could win awards for that ass." Neal gave him a wry smile and Peter sobered up a bit. "I haven't asked in a while, but how's the shoulder and ribs?"

"I'm doing fine, love," Neal said softly. "No reason to worry about me at all."

"What about the bruising on your back?"

"I can't see behind myself," Neal deadpanned. "And I don't want Nick to see it if it's still bruised or if there's some lingering damage. We'll have to wait until you're home to find out." Peter liked the sound of that. He knew that touching Neal's bare back would set off flames in Neal's body and the two of them wouldn't be able to break away from each other. Even though his chest still hurt a little bit, he'd make love to Neal the moment Neal seemed like he wanted it.

"When am I going home?"

Neal gave him a soft smile. "Your nurse told me you should be okay enough for a discharge by this evening. They want to make sure everything's fine before doing that, but I know I'll have you home for dinner tonight."

Peter sighed heavily in relief. "I'm so tired of this shitty hospital food. I want to go home and eat something one of us cooked." He lifted Neal's hand and planted a soft kiss atop it. "More than that, I want to be home with you—in our bed. It's hard to cuddle with you comfortably when the bed here barely supports both of us."

"Well, typically, there's only meant to be one patient on the beds at a time," Neal said, chuckling. "I don't think they anticipated an obsessive lover staying in the hospital bed with the patient."

"They should," Peter said a little petulantly. "I can't get enough of you. I want to hold you close every waking moment, stroke your hair, caress your cheeks… I want to kiss you when you're at the table doing work or making dinner or even doing the dishes." Neal smiled at him, knowing Peter was homesick. "I don't like the fact that you're home and I'm here. It's like living apart from you."

Neal leaned closer to Peter, brushing his lips against Peter's cheek. "I don't like the feeling any more than you do, love. It doesn't feel normal when you're not home. I'm so used to you just being there."

"Separation anxiety," Peter muttered. "We're having separation anxiety." Neal laughed and Peter saw the way his eyes lit up. Neal was amused by the thought even though they both knew it was true. Neal didn't say anything else. He just took both of Peter's hands in his, holding them up so he could kiss Peter's knuckles. Peter smiled, knowing there was no way he couldn't have separation anxiety because of this man. Neal is everything to him. Losing Neal would end his world. He'd rather be anxious about separation rather than live with that separation permanently.

•◊•

"Poppa!"

Peter grinned as soon as the boy crashed against him. He gasped quietly in a slight amount of pain, but he didn't care that much. He loved that Nicky was so excited to see him. "Hey, you," he said, stroking Nicky's hair. "I missed you, buddy."

Nicky closed his eyes and smiled, hugging Peter. Neal came in with Peter's bag and smiled at the sight before him. Peter noticed. He was always happy when Neal was and Neal was always happy when he was with his family. "I missed you, too," Nicky whispered. He opened his eyes and looked up at Peter. "You're doing okay?"

"Yes," he said softly. "I'm even better now that I'm home with you." Nicky giggled and backed up. "Poppa, I didn't have time to get something to take to you in the hospital earlier because daddy took me right from school, but stay here. I have something for you."

The little boy darted off towards his room and Peter glanced at Neal in question. "You'll love it," Neal whispered, walking past him to get Peter's things unpacked and put away. Peter's clothes were immediately put into the hamper so they could get washed and he'd take the toothpaste and toothbrush back into the bathroom later. He set pictures of himself and Nicky back on the nightstand on Peter's side of the bed and put a couple of Peter's books into the drawers where he'd gotten them at Peter's request.

Nicky came back a few moments later, holding something in his hands. Peter noted that he looked extremely nervous, but Neal seemed to like whatever it was. Nicky held a folded paper up for Peter and Peter took it, his heart warming at the picture that was drawn on the front. It was hand drawn by Nicky of the three of them. Granted, it wasn't on Neal's skill level, but it still touched Peter nonetheless. It looked like Neal was hugging Peter while Peter held Nicky's hand and they all looked really happy.

He opened it up and his lips parted as he read the little note Nicky wrote inside. 'I miss you, poppa. I can't wait for you to come home and keep daddy safe and warm. I can't wait for you to come home so we can watch games on TV together. I want to hug and kiss you when you come home. Please feel better soon, poppa. Daddy and I need you home because we love you. Love, your little buddy Nicky.'

"Oh, kiddo," he whispered, looking up from the paper. Nicky still looked visibly nervous. He closed the paper and knelt in front of the boy, pulling him into a hug. "That means a lot to me, Nick. You're such a sweet kid," he murmured, kissing Nicky's hair. "Thank you so much."

Nicky was excited to see that Peter liked it. Neal told him a couple days ago that Peter would love it, but he wasn't so sure. He squeezed Peter, giggling quietly. "I'm glad you're home," he said, stepping back to put his hands on Peter's shoulders. He leaned forward and kissed Peter's forehead, nose, and then his lips. Peter chuckled, reaching up to brush Nicky's unruly hair back.

"Thank you," he whispered. When he rose to his feet, he couldn't help opening the card up to look at Nicky's handwriting. It was really sweet and very touching. "This is going in a very special spot," Peter promised him. Nicky grinned and glanced in Neal's direction. Neal was sitting on the bed, watching them quietly.

"I'm gonna go get ready for my friends to come over. Go talk to daddy," Nicky said quietly, giggling to himself. Peter smirked at him, ruffling his hair a bit. Nicky darted off to go clean his room a bit and Peter turned to face his husband.

"That was the single most beautiful thing I think I've ever seen him do for you," Neal whispered. Peter circled the bed to get onto his side. He propped the card up on his nightstand and made sure it wouldn't fall over before getting onto the bed to lay on his back. Neal rolled onto his side, facing his husband. He put his hand on Peter's stomach and smiled affectionately. "Peter, you're the best thing that's happened to both of us. He loves you and trusts you, which is what I wanted when I was in any relationship."

Peter put his hand atop Neal's, nodding slowly. "I'm lucky to have earned your trust and even luckier to have earned it from both of you. I love you both more than anything and I'd do anything for both of you."

Neal was so happy as he stared at his husband and Peter was overwhelmed by his happiness. He really treasured moments where Neal was this happy because he loved to see a man who's been hurt so much in his lifetime come out with a smile on his beautiful face. "I hope you know you're stuck with us forever," Neal murmured, pushing himself up a bit to kiss Peter's lips.

The older man cradled the back of Neal's head when Neal pulled away slowly. They just stared at each other in silence for a few moments. "To live with two wonderful people for the rest of my life is a blessing," he whispered. "There's nothing I want more than to be your husband and his second father." Neal kissed him again, longer this time. It was his way of thanking Peter without saying it aloud. Peter's other hand came to rest on Neal's neck. They kissed lazily, their tongues slowly dancing together.

When they parted for breath, neither of them needed words to express their feelings. Their flushed faces were enough. Neal bowed his head, touching his forehead to Peter's, closing his eyes. He truly couldn't imagine life without Peter. His son was loved by Peter just as Neal loved Nicky. Neal's relationship with Peter wasn't the only thing Neal based their future on. It always came down to whether or not he could trust the other person with Nicky. Realizing Nicky would be okay around him was just the start. He needed to be sure Peter wouldn't take advantage of Nicky and he knew now that Peter would never do that to anyone.

He felt bad for Peter and Elizabeth because they hadn't been able to have a baby. Peter seemed like he'd step into fatherhood without much of a challenge. He'd been there for Nicky when Neal couldn't and Neal loved Peter more. He loved that he could trust Peter to take care of Nicky, that he could think about and watch them both without having an anxiety attack. Just the thought of some other man living with him, being around his son, was frightening before he met Peter. Now, it didn't seem all that bad and he was really, really thankful to have found such a wonderful man to bind his and his son's life to.

Even though Neal knew nothing was perfect, he always claimed Peter was too perfect for him. In all honesty, he knew this—watching Nicky and Peter act so much like family—was perfection. This was all he'd ever wanted for his son. He knew Peter would always love them both and he knew Peter would love them both as well as an additional child they were planning to adopt someday. He was able to think about expanding his family because of Peter, because he trusted Peter, and he couldn't wait to see where their marriage took them in their many years to come.