Part 2: In which Neal learns that oxygen is his friend

(contains references to Hard Sell)

*****

Neal didn't want to tell Peter the truth - well, not the whole truth - about his headache. It would just make Peter feel badly, and he was already wearing his unhappy face from having had to tell Neal that he had met with Kate, and he wasn't impressed with her sincerity. The brief oxygen deprivation, although certainly not likely to cause any real, long-term effects, was wreaking havoc on his head right now.

The ride back to June's brought them within a couple of blocks of Peter's house, so for the second time in less than two weeks Neal found himself on the Burkes' couch.

"Peter, really, a couple of aspirin and a nap in my own bed, I'll be fine. You don't need to keep an eye on me."

"Humor me. You were unconscious for about half a minute, Neal. I'll be much more comfortable if you stay here until you're feeling better."

"I'm good, Peter."

"Funny, I don't believe you, since you're still only a shade darker than Casper. Now, do you want to lie down upstairs in the guest room or down here?"

"Couch is fine," Neal grumbled. He swallowed the aspirin Peter brought him and drank the glass of water more quickly than he had intended, but when he laid down the room started to spin. He pulled himself upright.

"I thought you were planning on a nap."

"Mmm," Neal replied with his eyes closed.

"Mmm? As in, yes, you were, or yes, you just woke up all refreshed?"

"The former."

"And yet you're still sitting up." Peter's voice softened. " Are you dizzy?"

Neal took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "A little bit, when I laid down."

Peter just nodded and left the room. When he returned a couple of minutes later he had four pillows and a blanket.

"Here," he said, propping the pillows up against one end of the couch. "See if you can lean into these and still feel okay." The arrangement let Neal recline halfway between sitting and laying flat; it was just about as far as he could go and not get dizzy.

"This is good, Peter. Thank you."

Peter dropped the blanket over Neal, squeezed his shoulder and went into the kitchen to call Jones. By the time he was caught up on the follow-up at Avery's place it was dark, and he realized he hadn't done one of his quarter-hour checks on Neal for over an hour. Neal was still sleeping, looking so young and without artifice. I trust you, he had said earlier, handing the breather to Peter. Then, in the airless room, he found the kill switch and passed out.

They'd been here for more than two hours. Peter grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and an apple from the bowl on the table and walked to the living room. Neal was unexpectedly sitting up with his elbows on his knees, palms pressed into his eyes exactly as he had done on the steps of Avery's house. But this time, when Neal looked up, his coloring was normal and his smile was genuine.

"Hey, Peter."

"You're looking like yourself again," Peter said, handing him the bottle and the fruit. "Feeling better?"

"Much," he said, taking a bite of the apple. "Headache's gone, and the room's not moving anymore, either."

Peter smiled, but then frowned. "Neal, about what I said earlier."

"Not now, Peter. I just - tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, if that's what you want. Wanna stay for dinner?"

"Nah, I'm just going to head home."

"I'll give you a lift."

"Stay here, it's late. Elizabeth should be home soon."

"You sure?"

"I am. Thanks for everything, Peter," and with that Neal picked up his jacket and left. He walked to the corner to hail a cab. When he was out of sight of the Burkes' he pulled out his cell phone.

"Moz? Meet me at my place in half an hour. We've got to talk."