Not much input from Chapter 1. Come on Collars, let me know what you think! I want good and bad reviews, anything helps to keep the creative juices flowing. Enjoy chapter 2!
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Chapter 2
Chrystal was frozen. When she left home this morning she knew what today was going to be. It was going to be a walk out to her traps, taking home whatever she caught. Curling up with a good book while dinner was cooking and she still had light. By herself, like she had done for months. Today was not find an FBI agent day, watch a man get beaten to a pulp (if not to death) and proceed to help by hiking her ass back to the city to tell the FBI that she knows where one of their agents is only after checking on Neal. She moved slowly to where he was laying. He had looked terrible before but now it was like looking down at a chunk of raw meat. His face was so badly swollen it almost didn't even look like a face. Blood drenched the ground around him and at first glance it didn't look like his chest was moving at all. Feeling for a pulse like she did earlier, she was quite surprised to find one, it was there but faint.
His body was wet with blood. She thought to herself that it would be better for both of them if he was dead already. She could focus on helping Peter who was still okay and he would be free from pain. But then she felt terrible, she promised Peter that she would try and help Neal. But in helping Neal it was going to take her a lot longer to get back to help Peter. She carefully pulled the tape away from his mouth, and was relieved when he swallowed big gulps of air.
"Okay. Breath, for both of us."
First things first was that she had to stop the bleeding and she had to get him warm. She tried lifting him but his body was too slippery she would have to try to clean him up first. Her cottage was about a mile and a half walk. She stripped down to her undershirt and long johns and put her warm clothes on his bloody body, she needed the traction to keep a hold of him and he needed the warmth. The cold bit at her right away. If it were not for the physical activity of carrying Neal she wouldn't have been able to manage. But within 30 minutes she was home.
He needed heat and to be clean... so it only made sense. She turned the water to warm and peeled the bloody clothes off Neal, hopefully he didn't wake up shy. Nudity didn't bother Chrystal because once upon a time she had been in med school. Okay, focus on helping Neal, she thought not wanting to hurt him by warming him up too fast but he was nearly frozen. She lowered him slowly into the warm water, cradling his head and neck. While the tub filled around him, she took a cool washcloth and started to clean away the grime from his battered face. It was so swollen and broken she worried that it might be infected but there was no way to tell if he had a fever since he had been left outside in the cold for so long. He stirred a little but didn't wake. A sound like a whimper and a moan escaped his lips, then more pain. He shifted slightly but the pain must have been overwhelming because his swollen eyes pressed together in agony before going limp once more.
"You're okay" Chrystal soothed. He really wasn't but she hoped her words would make him better. She wanted answers more than anything. What happened? Who were those guys? Why would they do this? It was way out of her comfort zone to do something so risky without any information. She steadied him in the tub so he wouldn't slip into the water. Who knows what Peter is going though right now. She wished that she had a phone but she was in the woods to get away from people. "You're gonna be okay, just hold on Neal."
After getting Neal warmed up she pulled him out of the filthy bath water and started to assess the damage a little closer. He was very thin, his skin seemed loose and rubbery. Small cigarettes burns patterned his neck behind his ear and down his collar bone. His wrists were raw from being bound and it looked like cuffed as well where there were deeper cuts. Bruises from head to toe were different shades of purple, red, green and a mean yellow color. The most blood loss seemed to be from the whip lashes covering his back. After soaking in the tub, crusty scabs were still seeping blood and infection. Well, that needs to be cleaned up, Chrystal sighed. It was too cold to go for help tonight so she might as well clean Neal up the best she could. She laid down a thick blanket then a towel next to the fireplace so she could see and keep them both warm. Using a washcloth soaked in diluted alcohol she started to ever so gently scrub away the the grime and pus that didn't come off in the bath. After applying some burn cream she carefully turned him around and tried to force down some pain reliever and water.
"Come on Neal, you need this." She crooned. "Come on buddy, you have to swallow" He choked on the water and the medicine was once again in Chrystal's hand. She settled down a little more so the back of Neal's head was resting right under her collar bone. "Neal" she whispered into his ear. "I promised Peter I would help you but I need you to cooperate too. Take this please!" She pleaded with the unconscious man and tried again to place the medicine in his mouth and pour some water through his dry lips. He finally got it down and Chrystal praised him quietly "Good Neal, okay, good job. More water now?" She poured in couple more swallows before she rolled him again to his stomach to rest and properly covered his back with gauze. If he wasn't awake tomorrow it would be hard to get help for Peter.
About every 4 hours throughout the night she tried to get more liquid and medicine into him. It was an event every time she tried but after a bit he woke up just enough to realize that he should swallow. He was shivering despite the warmth from the fire and blankets surrounding him. Great, that means an infection, Chrystal thought.
While she was bustling around to get a quick breakfast, Neal started to stir. His body still screaming at him. He looked around for the first time, trying to take it all in. No idea where he was or how he got there. He was laying stomach down on an old orange towel, with a thick pastel quilt draped over him. He tried to turn over but the pain wouldn't let him. A moan escaped his lips and a girl rushed over to him.
"What do you think you're doing?" She asked, not really expecting an answer. "Let's get you flipped over" When he was on his back he studied her. Young, probably early 20's, pretty enough. She wore a long sleeve plaid flannel shirt that fit her comfortably but still showed off her figure a little. Her face was covered with concern while she felt his forehead and checked his injuries, that didn't make him feel any better. He cleared his throat and even that killed, like it cracked open it was so dry. She seemed to get the hint and moved to the kitchen to get a cup of water with a straw. She spoke at him then offered the water after propping him against her chest. He flinched with every movement, the gashes in his back being scraped ever so slightly by the fabric of her jeans."There you go buddy" she sighed. The cool water coated his throat. It tasted so good, he gulped it down but before too long the girl stopped him. "Take is slow, its not going anywhere. Sips, when you need them, I don't want you getting sick. How are you feeling?" She asked, gently resting the back of her hand to his forehead. Neal heard her voice echoing in his brain but the pain streaming trough his body made him feel like he was in a sort of a haze.
Her kindness was foreign to him. After what seemed like a lifetime of beatings, verbal abuse, sexual abuse and being whipped he didn't think he would ever feel human again. "I've been bet'r" he whispered. How long had Peter and him been captive? Peter... where was he?! Panic set in. "Peter?" Neal croaked. His eyes darting around again.
"Shhhhh, don't freak out. I'm going to the FBI once I get you to a Hospital. Peter's orders." It didn't seem to calm Neal much at all.
"That'd be too late!" Neal's voice sounded dry and wrong to him.
She offered him more water and reminded him to sip it. "We NEED to get you to a hospital. Your back is very infected, and you lost so much blood. Hypothermia, it looks like you could have broken ribs and whatever else they did to you. I promised Peter." She sighed.
Neal didn't have a lot of strength to argue. "We need to 'elp 'im." Sweat from the infection was glistening on his skin, and he was starting to lose it again.
"Sleep for a bit longer, then we'll talk." And he passed out.
Chrystal got a cool damp cloth and put in on his forehead, if his fever would break it would be a lot easier to get him somewhere. Or what if she did just go for help by herself? It would be faster and then she would just bring help for Neal and for Peter. But if anything happened to Neal, she would feel awful.
She kept forcing him to drink, just little sips every 10 minutes or so. He started shivering harder, not a good sign with so many blankets around him. If the infection got to his blood before she could get him help, he would be a goner. He needed food so she got the applesauce out of her pantry and started to feed him spoonfuls, coaxing him to swallow. He kept his eyes closed but ate a few bites before he wouldn't anymore.
It was around mid-morning when he woke again.
"We need to talk," she told him seriously. His eyes seemed crazy from the heat and they wandered around the cabin an back to her. Crazy, terrifying dreams and now his mind was burning and playing tricks with him. He could see Kate, she was cradling him and then shouted in pain. He flinched and tightened his eyes to try and block her out before hearing another voice. "Hey Neal, hey, HEY!" She had his face in her hands and forced his attention to her. "You are very sick. We need to get you to the hospital. Can you walk?"
Her words were sinking in. He was back in the cabin, on an old couch now, safe with the stranger that saved his life. "I'll try" Neal replied, his mind clearing some.
"Okay, here let me help you." She leaned in close so Neal could throw his arm around her neck and try to pull himself up. He cried out in pain when his torso twisted even the slightest bit but he kept moving. He was standing upright now but his legs seemed wobbly. When he put extra pressure on his right leg he started to fall. Chrystal caught him.
"Is it broken?" She eased him back down but the pain shooting through him deafened him and black spots started closing in on him. "Neal?!"
"I'm sorry." he apologized before passing out.
"Damn. Well you are polite, that's nice" Chrystal let him rest for about an hour then woke him again, but he was so exhausted it was hard.
"Help is about a two hour walk away, you can't even stand. Would you be okay for a few hours? It's the only way to get you and Peter some help." Neal nodded. "Okay, here take this" she gently cradled the back of his head so he was upright enough to swallow some more medicine for his fever. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah." he replied.
So she bopped up and brought over the applesauce. They talked in-between bites.
"Why are you helping me?" His voice was weak but he seemed all there.
"I don't think you did anything wrong and no one deserves what they did to you and Peter. I hope anyone would help someone who needs it." She answered.
"Hm" Neal mused. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"My name is Chrystal, nice to meet you Neal" She could tell he was about to lose it again so she put the jar down and helped him lay flat again. I'm putting water here for you, don't drink it too fast and stay out of trouble while I'm gone, okay?"
Neal shot her a sleepy smile. "Nice to meet you too... Thank you for everything and hurry back okay?" Sleepiness was taking over again.
"I will Neal."
And with that Chrystal packed up and headed out after locking Neal in. Would anyone even believe her?Will Neal be okay? Is Peter already dead? She had a two hour walk to think through all the scenarios.
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Neal was left alone.
The haze would lift, then return.
Panic would set in, before remembering.
His body was drenched in sweat.
Then the dreams began.
-oOo-
"Operator, where my I direct your call?"
"The FBI please, White Collar division, New York City."
"Procedure requests that I acquire the nature of this call"
"It's an emergency"
"Please hold, I'll connect you."
-oOo-
He dreamed that he was drenched again in blood.
He dreamed about Kate.
He dreamed he would be trapped forever.
He dreamed about Heaven.
He dreamed he was in his own version of Hell.
-oOo-
"White Collar division, Diana speaking."
"I've seen Peter Burke and Neal."
"What? Who is this?" away from the phone "Jones, get Hughes!"
"My name is Chrystal, they need help"
"Where are you? We're on our way"
-oOo-
He tested his movement and tried to sit up
Nope, still hurt.
Soul searching.
Peter might be dead already.
He placed all his trust in a girl he knew nothing about.
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TBC! Please R&R!
