"Am I dead? Or dreaming?" Neal looked around. He couldn't see much but a golden mist.

"Or something in between?" asked Ellen. She embraced him.

"Neal, you have to go back." Ellen's arms were warm around him. He clutched her like he was a small child again.

"I don't want to leave you."

"You have to stop them Neal. So many have been hurt already. You have the courage. You've proven it. You're strong enough. So are your friends."

"I'm tired of hurting."

"I know." She hugged him. "I love you like you are my own son. But don't give up on life, Neal. I'll be waiting when it's over."

"Not sure I deserve to be where you are."

"It's not just about deserving. The more you think you deserve it, the less likely you are to find it."

Neal looked at her. He didn't hurt at all here. No pain or grief. Just joy and light, like when he was a child again and all the world's wonders waiting.

"To die would be a great adventure."

"To live would be a greater one." Her touch on his cheek was gentle. "You are not alone. Ever."

Neal nodded and hugged her. Already he felt her receding.

It was with great reluctance that he found the rest of himself. It hurt. Burning pain. Thing down his throat, pain in his side, in his head. He was tied to the bed. Sudden panic made him struggle for a moment. Then out of habit he started moving his arms, working on getting wiggle room to squirm free.

"Hey." A soft voice made him pause. His eyes cracked open. "Don't fight it. Let me get a nurse. You don't need to pick these!"

His eyes followed a blurry Peter, who was undamaged, to the door. A nurse hurried in. She looked him over and called for the doctor. It took a few hours before they really freed him. He was aching all over and wild with claustrophobia by then. Only Peter's steadying hand on his arm kept him from bolting out of sheer instinct.

"You okay?" Neal was finally able to whisper. Peter had mostly settled into a solid form by then.

"Me? I'm fine. You scared us half to death. Even Mozzie's been here, acting like he'd fend the grim reaper himself from your door."

Neal half smiled. "He hates hospitals." He whispered.

"Don't talk too much. You need to heal."

"She made me come back."

"Who?"

"Ellen. She said don't follow her yet." His voice was a whisper. "Have to stop them."

Peter nodded slowly. "We will. Whoever they are. Rest." He studied his friend as the young man's eyes slid shut again.

That command was hard. The worst place to rest was a hospital, filled with nurses who came in and woke him up checking on him. He was left trying to sort dream from reality on more than one occasion. And when fully awake, the after shock of his near death experiences threatened to take hold. Mozzie snuck in during the off hours. He was sneaking out when he stiffened, whirled and ducked into Neal's bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

In came the man Neal least wanted to see right now. Philip Kramer. Neal's eyes widened, then narrowed. "What do you want?" There was no one to witness his rudeness but Mozzie and if there had been the pain and drugs could be blamed.

Kramer paused, studying him. "Obviously I'm one of your least favorite people."

Neal closed his eyes hoping he would go away.

"But I'm here to apologize."

One eye popped open in surprise.

"I don't know how determined you really are to reform or not. And I do know you've put Peter's career right in the danger zone."

Neal's fists clenched and he glimpsed Mozzie glaring through the bathroom door hinge.

"But I do know your relationship isn't just the con that I thought it was." Kramer studied him. "Because no con would go that far. You nearly died."

"I noticed." Neal winced as a pang shot through him.

Kramer cocked his head. "You get credit for the take down. And the getting shot in the line of duty. It was above and beyond. So before I leave for DC all I wanted to say is...I hope you do it."

Neal looked at him.

"Really reform. For his sake. And yours. I stopped believing it was possible, a long time back. But he believes it. And maybe you do too. Don't let him down."

"I don't plan on it."

"I'm not sure how much is planning and how much is habit and DNA."

"Mmm." Neal's eyes half slid shut. He wasn't faking it now. He was tired. From the bathroom he could see Mozzie's eyes moving behind the hinges. He was on pain killers. Babbling might be a side effect, not a good one for a felon before an unforgiving FBI Agent. He wondered if Mozzie would leap out and interrupt if he did.

Peter appeared in the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Apologizing to your boy for thinking he was conning you. And encouraging him not too."
"That mean you've rethought my position?"

"I still think you're in danger of crossing the line. But no, I don't think a con would kill himself for the long con. Even if he doesn't plan to reform, he cares what happens to you."

"Good. I think. Does that mean you won't try and shanghai him again?"

"I'm not sure I'd want to tangle with Elizabeth. I think she'd come after me like that girl in the pirate movies..."

Neal rolled his eyes at Peter. "Italy."

"What?"

"Forger in Italy. Specializes in Rubens. Rayv something."

"I'll look into that. What, did you dream it up?"

"Amazing what you can find in dreams..." His breathing evened out and he drifted off again. Kramer looked at Peter a moment, at the way he looked at Neal and then left the room. Mozzie sighed so loud in the bathroom that Peter shoved it open and poked his head in.

"Hey, a little privacy?" Moz shoved passed and peered out in the hall to see if the coast was clear, then headed out opposite of the way Kramer took.

Peter rolled his eyes and looked back to see Neal smiling. Asleep or not, angry with him or not his friend and their friendship were going to be fine.


The End.

;) But there may be a sequel.