The grinding sound the doors made as they were pried open had to have been the most wonderful thing Neal had ever heard. He tried to convince himself that it was relief at the prospect of being freed that had him light headed.

Up by the doors, Diana took the hand offered by a rescue worked and stepped neatly off of the ladder and out into the lobby. Once she was clear, the man stuck his head into the opening and said, "Climb on up, fella."

Yeah, he didn't think releasing his stranglehold on the ladder, which he needed to do in order to climb, sounded like such a good idea. He was pretty sure he'd fall if he even tried to unwind his limbs from the rungs.

"Um," he hesitated to even look up at the man. "I don't think I can right now."

"He's got a concussion." Emma seemed to feel no shame in ratting him out. "He was unconscious and keeps puking."

"Mmmhmm," the man replied, then added kindly, "I'm Patrick. You feeling a bit dizzy there, son?"

Damn it.

Neal hated having to admit to a weakness, but he didn't think there'd be any other way off of the ladder of doom. "You could say that," he ground out. "Also, I'm Neal. Emma's down below."

"I think one of his pupils was sluggish, but couldn't really get a good look down here."

"Tattle tale," he muttered down at Emma and there was a chuckle in reply.

"You two just hold tight for a moment and we'll rig up a harness and get you out of there," Patrick assured them, then leaned further out over the maw. "How you doing down there."

"I'm peachy," Emma replied, sarcasm dripping from her tone "The freaking building fell on us!"

If Neal hadn't been feeling so terrible, her disgruntled sarcasm would have been amusing.

When Peter saw Diana come stumbling out of the building, dust covered and battered, but very much alive, he felt a surge of relief. With Jones at his side, he trotted over towards the EMT's, where Diana had been escorted. They had to wait several minutes to speak to her, because she was surrounded by some terrifyingly intense paramedics.

Seriously, one of them glared and brandished a shockingly large needle to keep them at bay.

By the time they got close to Diana, she looked annoyed and had an oxygen mask strapped to her face. Before Peter could say anything, she raised a hand and pointed back to the building.

Another group of rescue workers were exiting the structure, carrying someone on a collapsible stretcher. A young woman was being led out as well, but moving under her own power.

"I'm guessing that's Neal," Diana said, voice muffled under the mask. "I knew he'd gotten a bump on the head, but he seemed…well, not okay, but mobile."

Peter nodded and patted her on the back. To Jones he said, "Go tell El, Moz, June and Chrissy to meet us at Angel Memorial."

Chrissy, Diana's partner, had arrived a short time ago and was waiting with El. June had showed up, expressing concern for all involved and Peter could only be glad the older woman hadn't been around earlier when Ruiz had been mouthing off. She might have killed him.

Crossing to the ambulance where Neal was being loaded in, Peter was surprised to see that the younger man was awake. The blue eyes were a bit sluggish, but did manage to focus on him…more or less. "Hey Peter," he greeted him, the waved a shaking hand in the air. "What a day, huh?"

Yeah, what a day.

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