White Collar and its characters do not belong to me. I would be such a happy girl if I did! Chap. 4
The fever finally broke just after two Friday morning. Neal woke sweaty, sticky, and miserable. Quickly stripping the bed of the sheets and pillow cases, he threw them in the washer and set about remaking the bed. Before he even had the pillow cases on the pillows El was there helping him with the bed.
"I went to get a drink and heard the washing machine going. I'm guessing your fever broke."
"Yeah. The sheets were a mess. I thought since I was up I might as well toss them in the wash. I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't. But since we're both up how about I make us some tea? That always helps me relax when I can't sleep."
"Sure. I was thinking about getting a snack anyway. Now that the fever has finally broken I'm kind of hungry."
As El made the Chamomile tea Neal set about finding snacks. His body wanted salt, so the pickles, olives, and saltines came out. He also shaved a few thin slices of parmesan cheese onto each plate beside the crackers before sitting at the breakfast bar with them.
"So, did the soaked sheets really wake you or was it another nightmare?"
"Just the sheets this time. I am sorry about all the trouble I've caused lately. That was never my intention."
"You were sick, sweetie. You had a very high fever. When you combine that with whatever had you so scared the other night those dreams are bound to happen."
Elizabeth watched as Neal popped an olive into his mouth to avoid further conversation about the topic. Obviously whatever he had been dreaming about caused a hurt so deep, it hurt to even think about it. Maybe Peter was right. Maybe it was time to approach Neal about seeing someone. The nightmares were not going to just go away.
"Neal, I want to talk to you about something and I want you to hear me out before you say anything."
"OK. I think I can do that."
"For a while now Dad and I have wanted to talk to you about this. I think it would be beneficial to you to at least give it a chance. We think you should see someone. A therapist. You've been through so much in such a short time, not to mention the things we don't know about. Having someone to help you work through all of that might be helpful."
A therapist? Really? They thought he needed therapy? He didn't need therapy! He just needed to be left alone. Damnit! Why did they have to care? No one ever cared! They weren't supposed to care. He didn't deserve to be cared for.
"Oh, baby yes you do! Peter and I love you. So much that it hurts sometimes. We just want you to realize that."
He hadn't meant to speak aloud. Great! Now they knew he was crazy!
"I don't need a therapist! I'm fine! I have been fine for years."
"You've buried yourself so far behind the masks you have no idea who really are. And no, you're not fine! How could you be fine after everything you've experienced?"
"I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Never tell!"
"You can tell now. He can't hurt you anymore."
"But it hurts!"
The quiet sobbing gave away just how much it must hurt. Elizabeth did the only thing she could. She wrapped her son safely in her arms and held him until the storm passed. Monday morning she and Peter were going to find a therapist that specialized in this kind of trauma. She couldn't watch her son suffer anymore. She could not watch him fight demons she could not see alone.