It started to rain slowly, the drops sliding in oily trails down the car windows, and the dark streets were shining slicks of reflected light as Peter guided the Taurus through the city to Downtown Hospital. Elizabeth leaned over, murmured something to Peter while they waited for a red light, and he responded just as quietly. She realized when she turned to check on Neal that they needn't have bothered trying to be quiet. He was sitting silently in the back seat, just staring out the side window. His hand was clenched in a fist and held tight against his mouth. In fact, she spoke his name twice before he blinked and looked at her.

"Sorry. What?"

"I just said we're nearly there."

Neal nodded and glanced at her quickly. It seemed he was trying to say something, but nothing came out. El gave him a small, sympathetic smile and reached back, holding out her hand. He stared at it for a moment, then took it in his own cold, tense fingers, and held on for the rest of the ride. The con man couldn't even look her in the eye. He just nodded, gave her hand a squeeze, and stared back out the window. Clearly he didn't trust his voice. And the frigid energy he felt coming from the driver's side wasn't helping. He's letting me come along, he thought, but only because it's Moz. After this… Peter's strong baritone broke into his reverie.

"Here we are." They parked - illegally - and dashed inside.

The nurse at the duty desk looked tired. Her blond hair was losing its curl, and the stack of paperwork in front of her was clearly doing nothing for her morale. Elizabeth stepped up and spoke first. "Excuse me. We're here to see Mozzie."

The nurse frowned and stared at her. "Mozzie who?" Elizabeth opened her mouth and then looked at Peter, while Neal stood wide-eyed, knowing how Moz hated exposure to the system.

Peter stepped up to the counter. "He was brought in a couple hours ago – chest wound?"

The blond nurse looked at the board and nodded. "Well, we may have someone who fits that description… but the doctor only wants family to see him."

"Okay." Agent Burke reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around his identification. "Can I talk to Dr. Anderson, then?"

"The chief of staff? At this hour?" The nurse began to protest that this was impossible, but stopped dead as she saw a woman walk up behind them – a silver-haired woman in her fifties, in a tasteful black gown. "Dr. Anderson?" The nurse repeated, a bit more shocked.

"Pick up your jaw, Jacquie, it's just an evening gown. And give me the chart for 312. Just transferred up from ICU." Jacquie fumbled for the charts as Dr. Anderson glanced over her reading glasses at the threesome. "You'll have to forgive her, they forget the chief of staff has a life outside of the hospital." With a bit of a glare for Peter, she added, "Sometimes." Taking the chart from the still startled nurse, she gestured for them to follow her and walked to the elevator while reviewing notes. When the door closed safely behind them, she slipped out of her shoes and picked them up, her eyes never leaving the information on the chart. Holding them by the heel straps on one finger, she gestured with them toward Neal. "Hold these."

His eyebrows lifted in surprise, but took the strappy black heels gingerly before looking at Elizabeth helplessly. The doctor glanced away from the chart and looked at him briefly. "Thank you. They're fine for sitting, not so much for the hospital." Then, without waiting for a response, she turned to Peter. "Well, Agent Burke… what can I do for you? "

"I'm sorry, Paula. I know it's late –"

She held up a hand to stop him. "Peter, my date will wait. Is waiting, as a matter of fact. I know you wouldn't have called if it wasn't important. Hello, Elizabeth." The women looked at each other, smiling politely even though this meeting was so out of context for them. "I don't recall him ever dragging you into one of these. What's our John Doe have to do with my favorite planner?"

Elizabeth smiled wanly. "He asked for me."

Anderson raised an eyebrow. "Really. Part of your event staff, perhaps?" A trace of sardonic smile crossed her lips, and Elizabeth shook her head with a grin.

"Just a friend. A good friend." Peter brushed a hand over her shoulder and left it there, hearing her worry.

Neal looked at them, still holding the shoes, and realized she was being totally sincere. Good old Elizabeth. She'll probably even visit me in prison.

Peter broke in softly. "We need to ID him positively. If it is our John Doe, he may have to die."

The casual statement took a moment to register with Neal. "What? What are you –"

"Shut up, Neal." Peter didn't look away from the doctor, and she nodded.

"One of these days, Agent Burke, you'll come in with something that doesn't cause quite so much paperwork. And doesn't break my intern's hearts. They were so sure they had saved this one." The elevator doors opened, and they walked down to room 312.

A soft light emanated from the many machines that were hooked up to the man lying there. He was pale, very pale, and looked fragile, even a bit pathetic as he lie there. Elizabeth took a deep breath and stepped quickly to the bedside, taking his limp hand in her own. She leaned over and whispered quietly. "I'm here, Mozzie. It's okay. We're going to take care of everything." She smiled. "Mrs. Suit is here. So are the boys." Then she just stood, running her other hand gently over his.

Neal swallowed hard, frowning, seeing only a monstrosity of tubes keeping his friend alive. "Is he… going to be… I mean…"

Peter took a deep breath and looked back at the doctor, speaking quietly. "That's him. Unfortunately, John Doe has to have died in a drive by shooting."

Dr. Anderson opened the chart again and sighed. "Too bad. He's stable, sedated, the prognosis is good." She made a couple notes, and walked to the door. "I'll be right back." Then, taking her shoes from Neal's limp hand, she slipped out into the hall.

"Died? What do you mean? Look at him. He's breathing! Peter, you can't just -"

Agent Burke swung around to look at Caffrey, quite ready to tell him to shut up again – but stopped when he saw the younger man's expression. He'd seen Neal upset, certainly, and concerned… but never as frightened and confused as he looked right now, not even when the plane took Kate. For someone who professed to be a professional con artist, Caffrey just wasn't getting it.

"Neal. Neal!"

Blue eyes tore away from where Moz lay, and grazed past Peter's face without seeing. Their expression gave the agent real concern. He'd seen plenty of people break down, but seeing the ever-smooth Neal Caffrey beginning to crack was a bit too much. "Neal, listen to me. He's not dead. Okay? Come here." Peter spoke calmly but firmly, put a hand on they younger man's back and guided him to Moz's bedside, opposite Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, seeing Peter's concern, gave Neal a reassuring smile. "You can talk to him, Neal. They say people under sedation hear a lot." The young con man reached toward Moz, but he couldn't quite bring himself to touch his hand – in case it was as cold and dead as he feared. As cold as he had imagined all evening. Death. More death. First Kate, now Moz… Fear paralyzed him as he stood there.

Peter stood at his side, watching carefully. He was having enough trouble with how the little man looked - thank God for Elizabeth, she always seemed to know how to get past appearances at times like this - but Neal looked worse than Mozzie did, in his own way. The kid is going to snap in a minute. He reached out and gently eased Neal's hand down to Moz's. "It's okay, Neal. You see? He's alive. Feel the pulse?" He held his hand down for a moment, until he felt the younger man move again.

Caffrey took a long, shuddering breath, and rested his hand on Moz's. "I'm sorry, Moz. I'm sorry I got you into this." His eyes glistened like rain-washed sapphires as the doctor walked back in and motioned Peter over to talk. Elizabeth moved easily to the other side of the bed, putting her arm around Neal's waist as his breath caught with a whisper. "I'm so sorry for everything. Please be okay."

The doctor glanced at the vignette at the bedside briefly, and away again. "So who's in 312?"

Peter looked thoughtful for a moment. "Antonio Mozzelli." That's why the nurse heard us call him 'Moz'."

"Really." The doctor made some notes, and signed a few forms. "Okay. Mr. Mozzelli here is in decent shape, but we're keeping him sedated at least until morning. He's had some surgery on his lungs. Was in a car accident while he was driving and writing – hit a pole, air bag went off, and the pen jabbed right into his chest. Broke part of his ribcage and did some lung damage. You'd almost swear it was a gunshot wound."

Peter gave her a grin and dropped his head. "You sure you don't want to come down and work for us?"

Dr. Anderson looked over her glasses at him. "I believe I already do. Whether I want to or not. By the way, the ER has down that when John Doe was awake, albeit briefly, he was 'excitable, suspicious, and paranoid'." She shook her head. "You realize we can only fix the body."

Elizabeth pulled a chair over for Neal to sit at the bedside, and looked up at the doctor gratefully. "Thanks, Paula. It's just that he's –"

"No, no, thank you. The less I know, the less I know. I'm sure there's something going on here that is none of my concern. The body, however, whomever he may be, is. What I need to know, Peter, is if he's safe. And if it's safe for my other patients with him here."

Burke dropped his head to one side. "Since the John Doe is dead, I don't expect any trouble, but I'll keep an agent here at all times while he's recuperating. Starting with – " he looked at the suffering kid at Moz's bedside, and took a breath. "Starting with me and my partner." Neal blinked, slowly turned to look at Burke, unsure that he heard what he thought he heard. Partner?

Peter met his eyes with solid, unblinking strength. Your move.

Neal swallowed hard as he stood up, pushed his hair back and straightened his jacket. He looked Peter in the eye for the first time in hours, and while someone who didn't know him might only see determination, there was vulnerability in the depths of the blue. And a sorrow that was obvious – sorrow for one friend being injured, and sorrow for not realizing how deeply he had betrayed the one person he trusted more than anyone else.

Peter looked at him thoughtfully, a slight frown creasing his brow. "You okay with that, Caffrey, or do you need to go get some sleep?"

"No, I'm good, Peter." He glanced at the floor, then back up to those searching brown eyes. He repeated himself, his inflection a bit different, his tone almost pleading his case. "Really. I'm good."

Peter coughed a little laugh and let go of a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. His eyes met Elizabeth's smile before he looked back at his partner with a sigh.

"Yeah, Neal. I believe you are."

END


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If you're interested in Mozzie's view, check out "Mozzie Incarnate". Thanks for reading!