The next day, Peter woke to knocking. He raced to the door and pulled it open. June was there, with three cups of coffee.
"Ah, Peter." She said, coming in with his wave. He put a finger to his lips and she understood. "How are you?" she asked, much quieter.
"I'm all right. It's Neal that I'm worried about. He had six full cups of wine last night. Not a good thing. I just can't wait for him with the hangover I know he's going to have. It is going to be so fun." Peter whispered sarcastically.
"Aw. Poor Neal. I feel bad but since a cranky Neal is not someone I'd like anyone to be around why don't you and I come down to my place and we can have a cup of my Italian Roast. Does that sound okay?" she asked but he shook his head.
"As his partner I have to be there for him I on a day like this. When he has a hangover as bad as this, he'll need someone to help him through today." Peter said giving June a small smile. She nodded and left, gently closing the door as she did.
Peter went to check on Neal afterwards. Neal was still asleep but it was very evident he had been tossing and turning. The covers were tangled up around him, and his eyes were darting around under his eyelids. Peter untangled the covers and replaced them again. He ruffled Neal's hair and turned away all the blinds, as to cover up the sun from Neal's vision when he did wake up. He had some coffee and brought a chair into Neal's room. He watched Neal for about an hour.
A low moan escaped Neal's lips and Peter smiled.
"Are you all right there buddy?'' Peter whispered.
"No." Neal groaned.
"Do you want to me to get you a wet rag first or do you want me to tell you what happened last night?" Peter asked.
"Rag then story." Neal croaked and Peter delivered. He got the hugest pack of ice Neal had in his freezer and gave it to Neal who moaned with relief when the cool rag touched his forehead.
"Now tell the story." Neal said, the ice obviously helping.
"Well, we had the usual drink because we solved a case except for some reason you had about three to my one. After you hit three, you went straight to the land of I-am-so-drunk-it's-not-even-funny but what you did, however, that is a different story." Peter said, chuckling to himself as to be easy on Neal's hung over ears.
"What did I do Peter? Please tell me it wasn't that embarrassing." Neal said, looking at Peter. Compared to how he looked yesterday, this was a new Neal Caffery Peter had never seen before. His eyes were bloodshot, weary, and tired. His muscles were tense and it didn't look like they would be relaxing sometime soon. His skin was covered with a thin sheet of sweat. He looked, well, hung over.
"Well it was really funny. I played some radio to give you some soft music to finally get you to sleep and on the radio was Any Way You Want It and you started to belt along with the music. By the way, you are a horrible singer." Peter said, hoping his smile wouldn't hurt Neal's eyes.
"I what? Oh my God, Peter I am so sorry. Everyone whose ever heard me before has told me I made their ears bleed. I can't believe I did that." Neal said, his apologetic worry making him look worse.
"It's all right Neal. I know exactly what you can do. You can record your voice and use it for my car alarm. It would work perfectly." Peter joked.
Neal slumped back onto the pillows, looking haggard.
"Really. It's all right Neal. I won't tell anybody. Your drunken secret is safe with me. unless you do something bad again and I have to resort to drastic measures." Peter joked, but giving Neal a stern face.
"Is it a horrible hangover to go back to sleep ten minutes after you woke up?" Neal asked.
"Of course not buddy. If you're still tired, go back to sleep. I'll probably still be here when you wake up." Peter said.
"Why would you do that? I've been told a cranky me is terrible to be around." Neal asked.
"El told me last night that I have to stay with you until you get over this. I'm not allowed to come home." Peter explained. Peter watched as Neal tossed and turned and flipped and moved before he finally settled down on his right side, facing Peter. It took a little while before Neal's breathing evened out and his body finally relaxed.
Peter called his wife next.
Hello? Peter heard through the phone.
"Hey honey. How are you?" Peter said.
Don't. How's Neal? She said, getting right to the point.
"Asleep. He woke up about ten minutes ago and fell back asleep. He has one hell of a hangover. Am I allowed to come home now?" Peter asked, sounding hopeful.
"Yes. You are. Except you still need to take care of him. If you come home before eight, you are doomed." She said, hanging up.
Peter sighed and went to watch some TV after closing Neal's door. There were no games on today, not even good cartoons. Peter went through Neal's books but they were all so old he was afraid if he even breathed on them they would fall apart. There was absolutely nothing to do. Then he thought of June.
