With a huge smile and a lump in his throat, he watched his daughter dance. Placing his arm around his wife he leaned closer and whispered.
"She's not old enough to be married."
She rested her head on his shoulder. "She's beautiful isn't she?"
"Just like her mother" he answered, his eyes taking in the ballroom. Spying his son, he chuckled. "At least Ben's too young to notice girls..."
"But he's a charmer like his father" she piped in. "In a year or two, watch out."
He groaned. Life was perfect. Somehow, after everything he'd done wrong, he got it right.
"Linda, I love you." He found her lips with a chaste kiss. "Can you believe how perfect this day has gone?"
Linda laughed. "Can you believe we're old enough to have a daughter getting married?"
He leaned forward with his blue eyes twinkling. "We're not getting old...just better."
She laughed again; he loved the sound of her voice.
"Neal, do you remember when she was ten and had her first crush?"
He nodded, as if it was yesterday. "I dried her tears and told her the world wasn't ending and there'd be lots of boys in her future."
"Neal, we did well. We raised her right."
He settled back in his chair and found his wife's hand; this was the life he always knew he would have.
"Peter, he's coming around." The agent stood and joined his wife. Neal's eyes were open.
"Neal, look at me." Peter leaned over. "It's so good to see you awake..." In a coma for a week, they were all starting to lose hope that Neal was going to wake up.
"Neal, can you hear me?" The ex-con didn't respond.
"I'll go get the doctor." Elizabeth made a swift exit.
"Hey partner, you really scared us." Peter rested his hand on Neal's arm. "You've been in a coma but you're going to be ok." Peter squeezed Neal's arm with a reassuring grip.
"Peter?" Neal croaked out with a little cough.
The agent smiled. "Yeah, it's me."
"Peter, where's Linda?" Neal's voice was hoarse but clear.
"Linda? Neal, who's Linda?"
The ex-con blinked twice and then searched the room...she'd be there unless something happened to the kids.
"Are the kids ok?" Panic set in and Neal tried to get up.
"Take it easy." Peter held him down, grateful when the doctor arrived.
"Peter, what's wrong?" Elizabeth asked as they stepped aside and allowed the doctor to exam Neal. "You look very pale. "Are you ok?"
He shrugged. "He asked if the kids were ok..."
He glanced down at this wife. "Was Neal dating someone named Linda?"
"Should I call Mozzie?" she asked. "I would think he'd know..." their conversation was cut short as the doctor left.
"Peter, where's Linda?"
They neared the bed, neither knowing how to answer that.
"Did something happen to my wife?" Neal stared at them, clearly agitated. He tried to remove the IV in his arm.
"Neal, stop it." Peter lunged for his arms before he did any damage. "Neal, you're not thinking straight. You're not married..."
"Of course I'm married...Jenna just got married..." he paused and met their gaze. "Where are my wife and kids?"
Peter Burke had no answers.
He painted; out of the hospital for nearly a week Neal spent his days and his nights painting. His latest was a collage of Jenna, from the day she turned ten until the day she got married.
"Nice...who is that?" Neal bristled at Peter's tone, as if he were a child or a man who lost his mind.
"It's my daughter. How many times do I have to tell you that?" Neal stepped aside as he studied his masterpiece.
"She's so beautiful, just like her mother."
Peter had to admit the young girl was pretty with raven hair and piercing blue eyes. Who's the baby?" One of the pictures showed a young girl holding a baby.
"That's Ben but you already know that." Neal smiled at the memories. "Jenna was ten and fell in love with her little brother the moment we brought him home."
"Neal, stop doing that."
"Doing what?" He angrily eyed the agent.
"They're not real and you know it. Neal, you don't have a wife and kids."
"Stop saying that." Neal threw the brush down and stormed past Peter. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing but I'm going to find them. If it's the last thing I do I'm going to find my family." Neal walked out slamming the door behind him.
Peter opened his cell and dialed. "Jones, he's leaving the house. Keep tabs on him at all times."
Peter stared at the array of paintings that adorned the apartment. If nothing else Neal was consistent in his portrayal of his wife and kids.
The doctors couldn't explain it though they attributed it to his head injury. But his stories never changed; in a week he seemed to have experienced a lifetime of memories and they were real; and Neal refused to believe his family didn't exist.
"So the paintings continue."
Peter took a deep breath as Mozzie neared him. "Suit, there's one way he can get his family back..."
"Don't say it." Peter spun around. "Don't you dare give him that idea."
"What, you don't think he's thought of it?" Mozzie sauntered over to the counter and poured himself a glass of wine.
"It's simple." Mozzie sat and took a sip of his wine, smiling at the exasperated look on Peter's face. "You put him back in a coma to finish that life."
"You're crazy" Peter snapped angrily.
"Maybe" Mozzie said with a slight smile. "But he's useless to you now. What are you going to do? Put him back in jail...maybe a mental hospital." Mozzie stood. "You can't watch him forever."
"Mozzie, there is no family. It's in his mind..."
"So you think I'm crazy?"
Peter turned to see Neal standing in the doorway.
"No." Peter neared him. "Neal, you're not crazy. You had a head injury..."
"I had a family." Neal said angrily. "And I'm going to find them again. Peter, I have to. Will you help me?"
Neal grabbed a hold of Peter's shirt, begging.
"Please Peter. Help me find my family."
"How?" Peter shook himself free. "Neal, they don't exist. Not here." Nowhere he silently added, refusing to meet Neal's eyes.
Neal turned away and without looking at either man, he walked into the bathroom and shut the door.
"He could be cutting his wrists in there" Mozzie retorted.
"Shut up." Peter started pacing, trying to figure out what to do.
Mozzie neared the agent.
"Is it so hard to believe there's a dimension we don't understand?" Mozzie held out a small bottle of pills. "If we monitor him closely, he'll be ok."
"No." Peter shook his head. "I'm not risking his life with this harebrained idea.
"Better we should lose him forever" Mozzie countered as he slipped the pills into his trouser pocket. "Suit, he had it all. Neal's not one to give up, especially when it's something he's wanted his whole life."
Peter turned, meeting Mozzie's gaze.
"I won't be involved in something that might kill him..."
"You can't watch him forever...suit." Mozzie walked out.
A month later and Peter had had it. Neal functioned like a robot, doing what he was told and no more. He no longer mentioned his 'family' but the pictures multiplied like rabbits until they covered the entire apartment.
Mozzie lurked nearby, his plan still on the agent's mind.
Mozzie was right; Peter couldn't watch him forever. Everything was suffering, his job, and most importantly his marriage.
He told Elizabeth the truth; although she didn't believe Mozzie's plan would work, she agreed that they couldn't go on like this. Either put Neal away or let him do what he wanted to do.
Neither idea settled right in Peter's mind. But after a myriad of medications that did nothing but make Neal suffer in one way or the other, Peter gave up.
He called off the dogs.
Peter entered Neal's apartment to find the younger man at the easel.
"Neal."
Slowly the ex-con turned as Peter approached him.
"I give up. You have a life here and people who care about you." Peter chuckled nervously. "I care about you. You're my partner...and my friend." He shrugged. "But I can't do this any longer."
Neal stood silent and still as Peter wrapped his arms around the ex-con, holding him tight.
He stared downward when Peter released him, unable to look Peter in the eyes.
"I'm sorry Neal" Peter choked out..."I'm sorry I couldn't help you." With nothing left to be said, Peter walked out.
Neal walked the street; in the time he had been gone...how long he didn't know...things had changed. He knew it without knowing how he knew it.
He found his house, once beautiful, now old and worn with cracked windows and unruly weeds taking over the back yard.
"Linda?" He called out softly in the dead of night. With dread he opened the door and walked in; avoiding the cobwebs that crisscrossed the doorway.
"My god" Neal whispered as he took in the disarray...his house was deserted, seemingly long ago. Linda. Ben. His family. He searched for clues but found nothing. He left and headed towards the only place he knew he'd logically find answers, the cemetery.
He knew the spot; they had bought two plots long ago, after Ben was born. A lovely area surrounded by trees; the place they would spend eternity together.
Neal knelt down at the graves.
Linda. He traced his fingers over her name; his last name. She had lived to be eighty, how many years had gone by? And where was he?
Did he desert them? Neal shook his head. He would never leave them, not willingly.
He glanced at the other grave and bent over, overcome with grief. His son had died at sixteen; so young.
He cried until he could no longer cry and then he slept, near his family.
It took all of Peter's will not to check up on Neal. He had asked for a leave of absence and considering everything he'd gone through since the head injury, Hughes had granted it; with the stipulation that Neal see a doctor and stay within his radius.
Peter wanted to intervene, beg his boss not to let this happen, knowing what Neal planned on doing.
That had been two days ago; two days Peter spent worrying about Neal and wondering if his friend was still alive.
Mozzie hadn't called; not that he expected him to.
He also didn't expect any company and startled when the bell rang. He glanced at the dog. "Keep quiet, they'll go away."
But whoever it was didn't and after the fifth ring, Peter hauled himself up to answer it.
Neal...looking disheveled, but alive.
"They're...dead." Neal flung himself at Peter, holding on for dear life, as his fragile existence fell apart.
Neal's legs gave out and Peter lowered them both to the floor, cradling Neal in his arms.
"They're dead" Neal repeated over and over as he clung to Peter, seeking a reprieve from his nightmare.
"I'm sorry Neal" Peter whispered as he held his friend. Words he repeated so often he wondered if they still meant anything.
"I'm sorry Neal."
The louder Neal's sobs grew, the tighter Peter held on...until they were both too exhausted to move or say anything.
Neal lay there, still clinging to Peter's shirt with an occasional hitched breath. And then he spoke, in a voice so tired and so broken that Peter had to strain to hear him. But he heard...loud and clear; Neal's family was dead; and whether they existed or not, Neal's devastation was real.
Peter said nothing; there were no words to help with Neal's sorrow. Not now. Not ever.
Neal took a deep breath; there was something special about the ocean. He sat on the sand and stared out, past the playing children; at the vastness and splendor of the water.
He was on vacation with Peter and Elizabeth; after everything they all needed to get away.
He no longer questioned the other world and the family that he knew existed. Time was different there and he knew his wife and son were dead; he could only hope his daughter had a long and fruitful life.
Neal would live this life and maybe some day...or maybe it was too much to hope for.
For now he had Peter and his life here; it was enough for now. A beach ball rolled by him.
"Sorry mister." A young girl came running after it.
Jenna. Neal took a double take. It couldn't be.
He picked up the ball and handed it to her.
"What's your name?"
"Mandy" she answered shyly, with her blue eyes sparkling. She had the same voice...Neal swallowed that thought.
"Why are you sitting by yourself?"
Neal smiled. "I don't know. Where's your mommy?"
"She's over there." Mandy pointed to a woman not far away. From the distance she could have been Linda. But Jenna was his. Or was she?
Ben was his; he clearly remembered his son's birth but not his daughter's. Maybe he met them on a beach.
Could two worlds become one? Was he getting a second chance?
Whatever happened to Ben in the other world; Neal would save him in this one... that he was sure of.
"Mister, are you ok?"
Neal snapped out of it and smiled at her.
"Do you want to meet my mommy?"
Do I? Neal contemplated. Of course he did.
Neal stood and followed the little girl...