(Chapter 4)

He was dreaming, a faint memory drawing breath on the blackboard in his mind's eye.

He was sleeping when a sound woke him up. He sat up in bed and looked around the unfamiliar room till he realized he was home. He slowly rose, padding barefoot across the cool wooden floors of the small apartment from his bedroom towards the sound. He paused outside a door just down the hallway from his and listened.

"Please, don't do this!" The voice was quiet, hushed in fear but the sound made him cringe, tension filling his body as he felt his hands curl into fists at his side.

"Shut up or I'll kill him too. He'll be my assistant. I'll take care of him for you." The man's voice was cold and menacing, a sniffling sob coming from the woman. He finally pushed the door open enough he could see what was happening, peering through the crack of the door.

"You asked too many questions and now... we have to part ways." He saw a man, tall, dark hair hovering over a woman in her late 30s. She looked frightened as the man held a large glittering knife over her where she lay in bed. The man was smiling in the dim light from the windows, the blade quickly moving to her throat as he watched in horror.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" He screamed running into the room but someone tripped and held him against the floor as he hit the cool wooden boards. He struggled unable to move beneath the second man's grasp.

"Ah, your son woke up. I told you not to make so much noise. Now he has to watch." The man grasped her tightly in his arms and pulled the knife across her throat, a gagging wet sound escaping her lips as he watched horrified. The man dropped her back to the bed, wiping the knife against the sheets as if he had just chopped vegetables rather than killed a person. The man who had killed her stood and walked towards him and the man holding him.

"Bare his neck. Now that he's a witness, he's of no use to me." The man's voice was dripping with evil as he glared up at the figure. The one holding him pulled his arms behind him and pushed him to a kneeling position as he held his hands back with one hand and pulled his head back with the other.

"It's a shame. I had hoped to make you my apprentice. I always wanted a son but I guess it wasn't in the cards." The man approached him, the blade shining in the dim light as the cool metal touched against his skin. He fought and struggled but the man holding him was too strong.

"Ge... aw...hay..." The voice was gurgling wetly but it was loud enough the man with the knife turned and stood staring at the figure with shock.

"You can't be alive. I cut your throat!" The man sounded surprised if not a little scared. The man stood there, walking towards the figure when there was a loud report. The knife fell from the man's hands and hit the floor with a quiet tinkling of metal followed by a hollow thud as the man fell beside the weapon dead. The woman turned and pointed the gun at the man holding him. He felt the man quickly let go, begging her not to shoot and backing away in fear but there was another loud report and a groan but the man dragged himself away as the woman dropped the gun and collapsed to the ground.

"Mom? Mom!" He finally found the strength to stand up and move to his mother's side. She lay on the floor gasping for breath, blue eyes staring up in the darkness like two shiny marbles.

"Niii...kkk...iii" She held his hand in hers tightly till the grip loosened and she was gone. He clung to her and cried for what seemed forever. It was when he heard the sirens he came out of his grief long enough to remember himself. He grabbed a sheet off the bed and draped it over her gently, kissing her cheek before he covered her face and walked into the other room. He was in a trance, his mind unsure what he was doing as he moved in a haze, cleaning himself up, packing a bag, changing clothes and then ducking out the back door into the night as he ran away from the scene.

()()()

Peter woke up when he felt a familiar hand caress his hair and a soft perfume he knew all too well waft near him. He opened his eyes to see El looking down at him, her arms wrapping around him as she sat beside him in the waiting room. Peter looked at his watch as he wrapped an arm around his wife and blinked.

"El, when did you get here?" He kissed her feeling guilty for having slept so long and not calling her back. He had missed her, worrying about her since what had happened the previous day. She seemed the same old Elizabeth he always knew but worry was evident in her eyes for him and his partner. She hugged him tight and reciprocated the kiss before speaking.

"I know, it's after 5 but I didn't want to bother June to drive me this late so I took a cab. She's going to come later today to visit." She paused to hug him a bit tighter before continuing.

"Diana called me about your being here and let me know everything was ok. They already put Neal in a room but she let you sleep since you looked like you needed it, honey." She kept her arms wrapped around him, snuggling close as he slowly rubbed the sleep from his eyes and shifted around to get more comfortable.

"I guess I did need it but I wish Diana or Jones had waken me up. These waiting room chairs are far from comfy and I would have liked to see Neal when he was moved." He sounded a bit testy, feeling a crick in his neck and blushing a bit as he saw El's slightly reproachful look.

"Sorry, I've been worrying about him. I kept dreaming about how he looked when they brought him in. It was... words can't even begin to describe it!" He felt her arms tighten around him as they both stood. Peter turned at the sound of someone walking up and saw Jones with three of cups of coffee.

"Hey Peter, El... Thought you might have need of this. Diana's already gone up to see Neal and left. She was pretty tired but wanted me to tell you she'll call you if they get any more information. I'm going to go home now unless you need me for anything else." Jones sounded and looked tired despite his eagerness to be helpful especially when it came to Peter and Neal. Peter shook his head and smiled.

"You've both done more than enough. Thanks Jones. Go sleep. I'll later at the office if not tomorrow." He watched Jones nod as he handed them both a cup of coffee and took off with a quiet nod. El clung to him as they made their way towards the nurse's station and asked for the room with Neal in it.

"Yes sir... right down the hall, 2nd elevator and up to the 3rd floor. They have him on a private floor with a guard. Just show your ID. They're expecting you." She smiled at him and El before they followed her directions and headed for the elevator. Once they had entered the elevator and the doors closed, El looked up at Peter curiously.

"Peter, it wasn't your fault this happened. I know you feel responsible for Neal but it was something that couldn't be controlled. Don't beat yourself up over this. Ok?" She was smiling up at him, kissing him on the cheek when he flushed slightly and pulled away.

"It IS my fault. Those men weren't after Neal... they were after me! He would have been safe if not for the fact I had..." he paused seeing the frightened look on El's face. He hadn't meant to rant why but it had come out and he had to tell someone how he felt. Now he regretted it as he let the sentence hang in the air and the elevator made a "ding" to indicate they had reached their floor. El just looked at him with those big blue eyes of hers, quiet and timid almost. They walked a few feet apart instead of holding on to one another for most of the rest of the way till he finally reached out and hugged her.

"I'm sorry, El. I didn't mean to yell. You... you didn't see what they did to him. I kept thinking if I hadn't had that meeting..." He wanted to scream, yell and cry all at once but she held up two fingers to his lips and just smiled at him with those watery blue eyes.

"It's ok, Peter. I felt the same way. I was so afraid for him and thought what if they had mistaken you for him? I wondered what awful people he had associated with that could have done this and then when you told me... I didn't want to think about it. Let's just end this here and go in and be there for him. He needs us to be strong for him." Her voice was soft, reasonable and everything he knew he had married her for. She was a strong woman and understanding. He hugged her more tightly and kissed her again.

"You're right. We have to think about Neal right now. Come on." He was smiling ever so slightly, her face a bit lighter as the tension eased if only for the moment and they walked down the hallway to the room. The door was to their left as they walked up the guard, an FBI agent smiling sleepily at Peter.

"Hey Rick. How's everything?" Peter smiled at the man and shook his hand as the man stood and nodded.

"Hey Peter. Every thing's ok. Quiet as a ... well quiet so far. Go on in." Rick gave a smile and nod to El, Peter introducing her before they quietly opened the door.

Peter went in first, peering through the opening as El followed behind, their hands clasped tightly. The room was cozy, as cozy as a hospital room could be with a small bouquet on the table near the window already. A few soft rays of sunlight could be seen peeking in through the curtains. Peter made his way to the bedside, the soft beeping of the machines and the hiss of a respirator evident. El went to the bouquet and smiled.

"Diana put these here and signed it from everyone at the FBI. How sweet." She was smiling, eyes watering as were Peter's as he neared Neal's bedside and sat down. Tubes were in the younger man's mouth and nose, his neck taped up while IVs were in both arms, one with plasma and the other with something he wasn't sure about. Peter gently took Neal's left hand in his own, both hands bandaged from some minor injuries.

"Peter honey... are you ok?" She stood behind him, wrapping her arms around him gently before she moved closer to the bedside and gently brushed a wispy lock from Neal's face and kissed the young man briefly on the forehead.

"We're here Neal. Just get better." She caressed his hair briefly noticing the slight fluttering of his eyes beneath tightly closed eyes. Peter was quiet, his hand still holding Neal's. He wasn't sure what to say, the guilt he felt returning as he watched his partner and friend fighting for his life. They both turned at the sound of voices outside, listening as the door quietly opened up and a silvery haired woman walked in. She looked to be in her mid to late 50s, bright green eyes glittering at them with intelligence. She wore dark blue scrubs with a white lab coat over them, a stethoscope wrapped around her neck. She smiled softly at the couple holding out her hand to them both.

"Agent Burke I presume? Agents Barrigan and Jones told me a lot about you." She smiled brightly as Peter stood to shake her hand as did Elizabeth.

"I hope it was all good? This is my wife Elizabeth." He was smiling as much as he could under the circumstances, his attention still on his wounded partner. The doctor seemed to feel his tension.

"My name is Dr. Priscilla Endicott. Diana thought I should let you know how your friend is doing. He was in poor shape when he came in but he's a fighter. We only have him on the respirator till his injuries heal." She walked closer to the bedside and took Neal's wrist in hers, taking his pulse before patting the young man's hand gently and laying it back at his side.

"From what I understand, he was kidnapped?" She sounded truly interested as she continued a check of his breathing and heart rate, stethoscope checking beneath the hospital robe. Peter nodded a bit more stiffly than he meant to.

"Yeah... It was a case of mistaken identity." Peter turned and paced to the far side of the room for a moment to be alone, listening as El whispered to the doctor.

"My husband was the intended victim. I saw the kidnapping but had no idea it would turn out like this." Her voice broke as she retold the story. He turned to see the doctor comforting El.

"I understand." She kept her tone low before changing topics.

"You'll be glad to know there was no long term damage to his vocal cords or throat. The cut was thin enough it will heal with minimal scarring. The fact he covered it with his tie kept much of the mud and gunk from entering the wound and infecting it. Your friend is very lucky." She finished her examination with a quick opening of Neal's eyes to check his pupils. They were only somewhat dilated which seemed to concern the doctor some.

"His eyes should be more dilated than this. We didn't notice any head trauma but it could be from the loss of blood. He needed a couple of pints just to get him stabilized before we put him in this room. Your partner is a stronger person, Agent Burke. Mr. Caffrey should heal up quickly and once he wakes up we'll know for sure about any after effects." She pulled on the stethoscope as she spoke, looking between the both of them as if posing a question.

"Thank you, Dr. Endicott. I'm just glad he's ok. So the injury won't affect his vocal cords? It looked like a deep wound." Peter continued to flush as he spoke of the incident, guilt continuing to wrack at him. He felt the doctor's hand on his arm and she just smiled warmly back.

"He's going to be ok. It looks like they missed his vocal cords but there was some minor bruising. It may be a few weeks maybe a month before he will be able to talk or talk well at least. Some people heal faster but I'd give it about a month for his voice to heal if it doesn't work right away. We won't know for certain till he wakes up and tries to speak. Every injury is unique and so is every patient. With his progress just over the last few hours, I'd say your friend will heal quickly." Her manner was positive, comforting and brought a relief to the couple. Peter thanked her again as profusely as he could, Elizabeth walking out with the doctor as Peter sat back down at Neal's bedside and took his friend's hand in his.

"Did you hear that Neal? Doctor says you're going to get better soon." He hoped he sounded as positive and sincere as the doctor had. He wanted to hear the sarcastic voice of his partner again, annoying as he could be at times he would be nicer and not complain in the future. Well maybe not as much but he just wanted Neal to be well.

Peter sighed to himself, watching Neal continue to breath with the help of the respirator, the bandages around his neck reminding him of a grim story he read as a kid. He would never look at "The Velvet Ribbon" tale quite the same again after this past day. He shivered at the thought of it, pushing the image from his mind and thinking of more positive things.

"Diana put a nice bouquet in the room. I'm sure El will bring some more later on. You know how women are about flowers." His voice was sounding a little more conversational, Peter almost hearing and seeing Neal make a snarky remark if not smirking smile at the comment. Neal would probably say something about Peter not being sentimental or romantic enough. Neal was the bouquet type, having sent El a nice one the day he almost left them. The day Kate died.

Peter shook his head again, trying with all his might to move away from the negative and back to the positive. He had to think positive if he was going to help Neal get better. He slumped back in the hard wooden chair, the little bit of cushioning not helping as he shifted to get comfy.

"Uhnnnn..." The sound was faint, almost gurgling and wet as Peter tried to figure out where it came from. He finally realized it was Neal making noise, his face twitching a bit, eyes moving more beneath closed lids as his hand grasped Peter's, fingers holding on tight.

"Neal?" Peter spoke softly, unsure if the young man was moaning in pain or trying to speak. He knew it would be hard to speak with the tubing down his nose and throat so he pushed the nurse call button, the door immediately opening as El and the doctor popped back in.

"Honey, what's the matter?" El walked over to Peter who was standing now and looking at Neal curiously.

"He made a noise. I don't really know what but... there it is again!" Peter pointed as Neal shifted slightly in the bed, head moving from one side to the other slowly, a low moan escaping his throat. The doctor immediately checked the IV drips and pulled the stethoscope from around her neck again to check something. She put the end of it on his chest and neck and shook her head.

"His breathing is still good. Not as wet as it was when he came in. We were able to clear his lungs out pretty easily. He may have some pain from the wound or general aches. I'll make sure the nurse gives him an extra dose of pain medication." She patted them both gently on the shoulder before she left the room again. A nurse showed up almost immediately after the doctor left and adjusted one of the other IVs, the one that Peter hadn't been sure about but now realized must be morphine or some other pain medication. Neal stopped shifting and moving within a few minutes of the dosage, a relieved sigh off everyone's lips.

"Once he wakes up, we'll let him manipulate the dose as he needs it. Right now we're just giving him enough to be comfortable till he wakes up and can let us know just what's bothering him." She smiled kindly at both of them, did some quick checks of Neal's vitals yet again before leaving the room. Peter sat back down as did El as she pulled another chair up.

"I think you should go home and get some rest, dear. You look exhausted and I know I haven't slept much since everything happened." They both grabbed the now cold cups of coffee Jones had given them, forgotten as they watched over Neal, threw them in the trash and said their good-byes for the moment.

"Well back later today, Neal. Rest well." El leaned over and hugged the young man gently, planting a light kiss on his forehead before she turned towards the door. Peter patted the young man on the shoulder with one hand, holding his left hand in the other.

"Get better, Neal... Please." His voice fell a few octaves as the guilt overcame him again and he mussed the young man's hair ever so gently. He turned to follow his wife, hand slowly letting go when he felt it. Peter looked back to see Neal's fingers grasping his a moment, a slightly pressure on and off that made him blink before the young man's hand went limp again. Peter smiled ever so slightly, a chuckle escaping his lips as he exited the room with his arm around his wife.

"Peter, what's so funny?" She was looking at him oddly, her lips curved in a small smile. He just shook his head and sighed.

"I think Neal sent me a message in his sleep. Morse code. I could swear he tapped out "OK" on my hand." He looked incredulous but calmer.

oOoOoOoOo

Author Note: The Endicott name is a real one. A student at the place I work had that name and I always thought it was a very unique last name. Guess I finally found a place to use it. I like interesting names when I can find them. I knew a prof who told me one of the other profs in his department had the last name of "Christmas." Literally, his last name was Christmas like the holiday. The interesting thing was, the man's wife's name was Mary. True story. Scout's honor and all that jazz. *grins*