(Chapter 3)

Neal woke up to the sound of his alarm buzzing. He sat up and realized he had fallen asleep on the sofa. He stared over at the TV and saw it was still on but the CD had stopped. He wiped at his eyes and stood, walking over to the bathroom to wash up. He was going to have to change clothes before Peter came to pick him up today. Neal turned on the shower radio in the bathroom to an oldies channel and heard Tony Bennett singing. He smiled and hummed along, looking in the mirror at himself a moment, sink running hot as he got ready to shave.

"That was Tony Bennett with "If I ruled the world" here on your only channel for all the classics, WCLS, 90.5 FM." The station ID was followed by a number of ads. Neal perked up at a particular ad, looking around dully when it came on and leaving the bathroom. He walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out various items till he found a long scarf he normally used on really cold days. He took it with him back into the bathroom, eyes staring blankly. His hands wound the scarf into some kind of knot and the started to wrap it around his neck. He walked into the shower, closing the door. He stood up on the small wooden stool and reached up to the ceiling to a pipe overhead, tossing the loose end of the scarf over it and tying it in place till it was taut. His expression was blank, blue eyes just staring at nothing as if he were sleep walking or something. The radio continued to play in the background quietly as he stood there waiting.

"Do it... it's easy enough. She's waiting for you." Neal heard the voice speaking to him quietly, just beyond hearing but he nodded ever so slightly in response. His foot kicked at the stool beneath him and there was a clatter as it finally fell noisily to the tile. He kicked and thrashed as the scarf tightened around his neck but his eyes continued their blank, glassy stare.

"You're almost there. Can't you see her?" Neal thrashed a bit harder and there was a ripping, tearing sound as the scarf tore and he fell to the tiled floor with a thud. His head smacked against the faucet on the way down ever so slightly but it stunned him as he hit the ground. He thought he heard another voice in the background talking to him.

"Neal? Hello?" It sounded like Peter but he wasn't sure as the other voices and the radio seemed to drown him out.

"You were almost there. Next time... she's waiting." Neal lay there feeling a throbbing in his skull where his head had hit the faucet but it was more than that. Something had possessed him. He felt out of control. Someone touched his shoulder and arm and he was only vaguely aware that he was pulled from the shower and out into the main room. He felt something soft pushed under his head and someone moving around. He felt a little pain from his forehead and winced waking up enough to groan.

"uuuuuhnnn..." Neal groaned audibly, eyes fluttering open and looking up. He squinted till he finally seemed to be aware of things. Peter smiled down at him.

"Hey." Neal attempted to sit up but Peter gently pushed him back. He looked around the room and then at himself, hand reaching up to touch the bump / gash on his forehead. Neal winced again.

"What happened? I don't... Why am I soaked?" He kept trying to sit so Peter helped him up slowly and leaned him against the sofa, cushions behind him for support. Neal groaned but managed to sit up more or less on his own. He peered around the room still looking confused.

"I found you in the shower fully dressed but unconscious. You got a nasty bump." Peter stood and walked over to the bathroom rummaging in the drawer till he found a bottle of aspirin. He filled a paper cup from a dispenser there with water and came back handing the cup to his friend. Neal blinked, eyes slightly dilated looking and roaming around their sockets loosely. He seemed disoriented.

"Take these. Should help with the pain." Peter put two pills into the young man's hand and helped him take them and drink the water. Neal asked for more water, Peter refilling the cup several times for him. Neal slumped back against the sofa, eyes still loosely rolling around in their sockets. He noticed that Peter was looking at him worriedly. Finally he pulled the young man up to the sofa and then up to his feet.

"Peter? I don't remember anything..." Neal's voice sounded far away and distant, sleepy almost. He started to close his eyes but he felt Peter slap at his face gently.

"Stay awake. I think you have a concussion. I'm going to take you to the ER. Stay with me Neal, ok?" The young man nodded at Peter's words although vaguely. Peter helped him down the stairs and out the door to the Taurus outside. Peter sat Neal in the front seat, strapping him in securely. The young man slumped against the door once it closed as Peter hurriedly entered on the driver's side and nudged his friend as he strapped himself in. Neal's eyes rolled towards him although his head stayed leaning on the door. He felt too sleepy, warm and more relaxed than he ever had.

"Stay awake for me, Neal. Please?" Neal blinked at him dully in response as he saw the worried look on Peter's face. Peter started the car, pulling out quickly into traffic at the first opportunity. The voices continued to chant in the background softly now. Neal tried to ignore them as he concentrated on Peter and the sounds of the vehicle and city around him. He had to stay alert. The sound of the siren and the flash of lights seemed to make Neal feel even more out of it. It didn't block out the voices at all but he was too tired to fight them at the moment. Peter was his anchor for now as long as he could stay awake.

After a few minutes, Peter parked the car and exited, talking to someone outside. Neal finally gave into his exhaustion and closed his eyes. He woke up to find Peter shaking him gently. Neal's eyes slowly opened and he smiled almost drunkenly.

"Just resting my eyes. Have to check to make sure there's no cracks in the eye lids." He grinned slightly, lopsidedly, feeling kind of out of it. Peter smiled stiffly back, looking like he might be sick.

"Yeah, always a problem if you see light under your lids but keep them open for now. Someone's coming with a stretcher for you." Peter brushed at the young man's hair, removing it from his face. Neal just blinked again, looking up at his friend and wanting to obey. He could still hear the voices in the background muttering to him and he wanted nothing more then for them to shut up but he was too tired. Neal's hand reached out blindly and touched Peter's shoulder.

"Thank you, Peter." Neal stared at him as directly as he could, maintaining some eye contact. He wanted to say more. He wanted to let Peter know about the voices. He wanted Peter to ask them to leave him alone but consciousness was fleeting. It didn't last long as Neal felt his eyes roll back in his skull and he slumped over against the agent. He was just aware of the voices continuing their assault against him as he fell into blackness.

()()()

Peter and El sat outside in the waiting room, hoping to hear something about Neal. El had tried to keep Peter calm but he kept asking the nurses twice an hour if there was any news. They were kind and patient and told him they would let him know. He nodded sadly, sitting down once again. El hugged him and he leaned his head on her shoulder.

"Why is it taking so long to find out what's wrong with him?!" His voice was testy although he wasn't angry, just worried. El just brushed at his hair and caressed his face trying to calm him down. She was worried too. El had flashbacks to Neal's eyes when he was thrashing. Deep blue orbs looking up at her in fear, only a tiny island of black in the center barely larger than a period. Something was terribly wrong with Neal and she only wished they could get some info but the nurses were right. They could only wait and see.

Another hour passed and finally the original nurse came out to speak with the Burkes.

"I'm sorry for taking so long but we had to do some extensive testing. When you mentioned his pupils, Mr. Burke, that made me wonder about a few things. Has Mr. Caffrey ever complained of migraines? Maybe had some periods where he was spacey?" Peter shook his head at her, unsure of where she was going with her questions. She frowned a bit scratching at her chin.

"I had to ask because when we did an MRI on him we found he had quite a bit of activity in his brain. It's very reminiscent of someone who is having a seizure only this is a different kind of seizure. Most people think of thrashing or twitching, facial tics maybe. Some people actually fall into a kind of "trance" like state and end up doing things they don't remember. They seem perfectly fine but they have no memory of what they are doing. This can happen after a serious bump to the head or if they had epilepsy, but if it happened before he hit his head, we may have to do additional tests to find out what could be wrong with him." She looked concerned. Peter nodded back trying to take in everything she said.

"So he could be blacking out and not remembering things? I don't think he's taking any kind of medicine that could be causing that. Neal never showed any signs of being ill before this." He turned to El for help but she shrugged helplessly.

"He recently lost someone close to him. It's been a year but it was a very traumatic event. He's been fine though. Nothing out of the ordinary other than the usual depression. I could ask June. She would know if he was taking anything. He doesn't share everything with us." El's voice sounded sad, hugging Peter to her. The nurse nodded with a slight smile.

"Can you have June contact me when you have the information? Here's my card." Peter took it and pushed it into his jacket pocket with a nod. The nurse nodded, leading them down the hallway.

"We've put your friend in a new room on this floor in case we have to do any more testing. He's currently sleeping but you're free to visit with him." She led them to the door and they shook hands before she left them alone again. Peter pushed the door open, his mannerisms wooden and stiff. He looked like a man on death row as he entered the room and glanced across at the sleeping figure.

Neal was sleeping peacefully. His face looked a bit flushed compared to last time but he still looked boyish and youthful as always. Peter walked slowly over to the seat beside the bed and sat down, head leaning against the bed. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the last time he saw his friend. Those eyes, blank and dead looking at him with no more than a tiny dot of black. That wasn't Neal. Neal wasn't there when that was going on. Something had taken him over and if he was hearing voices, then it was evident to Peter something was truly wrong. He just had to figure out what. He sighed and stood up, looking at his wife and hugging her.

"I'm going to June's to let her know what's up and get some clothes for him." El made to protest but he held up a hand and continued.

"Stay here with him, please? Call me if anything changes." His voice was pleading and she nodded reluctantly, taking his place in the chair. She turned before he left and called out.

"Peter, I'm sure they'll figure this out." Peter just nodded briefly without turning and walked out the door without a word.

()()()

Peter parked along the curb in front of June's building. If it was anywhere but New York City, June's home would probably be surrounded by lush gardens, topiary, a swimming pool and anything else you could imagine surrounding a mansion. He exited the vehicle and made his way up the walk towards the entrance. He pushed the buzzer and saw June answer the door. She smiled cordially at him.

"Agent Burke, Neal's not home right now. Is he not with you?" June looked a bit confused, opening the door and motioning him inside. Peter tried to smile but he wasn't sure if he was doing it right. June stepped aside as he entered and she closed the door.

"About Neal... He... May I please have a glass of water?" She seemed surprised by his request but nodded, Peter following her to the dining room where she motioned him to sit while she left for the kitchen. She came back a few minutes later with a tall glass of water. He smiled as winningly as he could but felt he wasn't doing a good job as she sat down beside him and watched him drink the water. Peter blushed slightly unsure how to begin.

"June, Neal's in the hospital." He could hear his wife telling him that he was being too much the agent and not enough the friend. He sighed silently to himself seeing June put a hand to her mouth in shock. She grabbed his arm gently, looking directly at him.

"Is he ok? What's happened?" She had paled slightly. Peter tried to think what El would do in this situation and put his hand around hers and smiled softly.

"He's doing better. Elizabeth is with him right now. I came to get some things for him. They aren't sure how long he will be there. He's under observation." He wasn't sure if he should mention the scarf and razor but he noticed June was content with what he told her so far so he didn't pursue it. She leaned back in her chair and looked upset, the way he could remember his mother being worried when he came home with a skinned knee or broken arm.

"What happened? How did he get hurt?" June had her hands clasped tightly in front in her lap, wringing her hands every now and again. Peter put a hand on her arm and tried to comfort her.

"I came to pick him up yesterday when I found him in the bathroom unconscious. He had slipped and hit his head. I took him to the hospital and they're still checking him out to be sure it's just a slight bump or a concussion." June nodded, her expression wrought with concern. She stood up, patting him on the shoulder.

"Anything you need, Peter. Let me know." She wiped at her eyes and Peter stood, offering her a handkerchief.

"I think I'm just going to go upstairs and pack a small bag of clothes and toiletries for him. I should be ok. I'm sorry I had to be the bearer of such bad news." Peter hugged her gently and she shook her head, hugging him back.

"It's not your fault. I guess I was just taken by surprise. I'm glad he's doing better. Can I ride back with you? I'd like to see him if that's ok." Peter wanted to say no only because he had failed to tell her about the suicide attempts but he couldn't refuse June. She had done so much for Neal and for himself so he just nodded and smiled. June hurried down the hallway calling back.

"I just need to grab my purse and coat but please, take your time." She disappeared inside a room and Peter sighed to himself, making his way up the long staircase and up to the blue door on the top floor that led to Neal's room. He opened it and it looked the same as when he had entered before. He saw a half empty glass of wine on the table by the sofa and a pile of mail on the table in front of the terrace doors. Peter went to look at the mail and saw that Neal had received a small packet although it was now empty. He wondered what it could have been. He tried not to snoop, slapping himself on the hand mentally to stop acting like an agent but a part of him felt he had to in order to figure out what had started his friend off on this weird tangent. Even after Kate's death, Neal had never shown any signs of major depression beyond the normal bursts of anger, sullenness and an occasional need to be alone. The young man had been stronger than Peter thought he would have been had it been Elizabeth who had died. He wasn't sure how he would have reacted under similar circumstances.

Peter noticed the DVD player had been left on and the TV was in stand-by mode. On top of the table near the player was a CD case with plain print on the front. It read: Kate loves the Classics. Peter popped the case open but it was empty. He noticed the light on the DVD player indicated a disc was in the drive so he hit play on the remote and waited. Instead of a movie he heard music? The song was fairly old but something the kids probably listened to from the 80s. It was a song he knew he and El would have liked so he let it play as he continued to walk around the room looking for clues. He tried his best to view the situation as a friend more so than an agent. He walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a small overnight bag and started to put in what he knew Neal normally liked to wear: his maroon and lavender silk pajamas, a comfy pair of sleeping pants, some tees and various other pieces he knew the young man liked. Then he went into the bathroom and found a travel bag to put the toiletries in. He opened up drawers and pulled out a few shavers, after shave and other items he knew Neal was prone to use. The last place he looked was the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. Nothing interesting there other than the usual over the counter meds. Not even a prescription bottle with Neal's name on it but he knew his friend was not a fan of hospitals.

Once he was done, Peter walked back out into the room and placed everything down on the floor by the door. He looked around trying to think what else if anything he might be forgetting. The CD was still playing music, mostly quiet songs people listen to when they want to feel romantic. The music was actually pretty soothing when Peter came to think about it. He walked over to the terrace doors and opened them up, walking out onto the Spanish tile and across to the edge. Peter looked out at the view of the city, a certain envious feeling coming over him. He remembered that second day he came to pick up the con and had found him here at this mansion. Peter wasn't sure what possessed him but he found himself standing up on the top of the stone wall between the statues, looking down at the street below. He could see his car down there and people walking around. It would be so easy to just jump from here and land right on his car he thought. Peter started to feel his foot take a step out into the air when he came back to himself and grasped onto the statue to his right tightly.

Peter climbed down from the wall carefully and slowly, trying to send his heart back down into his chest where it belonged. His pulse was racing and he felt a certain strange feeling as if someone had been talking to him. He didn't know who but he just knew that someone had spoken to him as he stood up on the wall. He sat down on one of the chairs around the small wrought iron table June had on the terrace and waited for his heart to stop beating so fast. What had possessed him to stand up on the wall like that? He couldn't even remember getting up there but somehow he had and it scared him to think what would have happened if he had slipped.

"Peter?" June peered into the room from the doorway and glanced curiously at the agent. Peter stood and walked back into the room, closing the terrace doors behind him. He picked up the duffel bag and placed the travel case with Neal's toiletries inside. June continued to look at him curiously but he just smiled.

"Sorry, had to stop and think about things for a moment." He shrugged helplessly. June nodded, taking his arm in hers as they exited the room.

"I know exactly how you feel. Shall we?" She started to lead him out when he stopped and excused himself a moment. He put the bag down in the hallway and went back inside. He picked up the remote and pushed "eject" extracting the disc from the drive. He pushed it back into the case he had found and pushed it into his jacket pocket, turning off the DVD player and TV as he left, closing the door behind him.

"I'm ready now."