James Bennett watched as Agent Burke finally left the room. He found himself walking past security and down the hallway, until he was face to face with his unconscious son. I may have failed him, but I won't do it again.
"I'm so sorry, my boy." He whispered, stroking Neal's cheek. "But I'm going to make this better."
He began unhooking the wires that held Neal prisoner. "I'm going to make this better."
_
"Get away from him." Peter's voice was low and dangerous.
James involuntarily startled, looking up at Agent Peter Burke, their eyes meeting.
James's eyes were nothing like Neal's.
James was dressed in scrubs, a perfect disguise for the hospital.
"I said GET away from him!" Peter clenched his fist by his side and was pulling James away from Neal, Neal whose eyelids were fluttering. Neal, whose lips were tinged blue now.
"He can't breathe- the wires, the tubes, you pulled out, you—"
Fury and worry knotted Peter's stomach. As much as he needed to beat James into a god damned bloody pulp, he needed to help Neal. He reached for the nurse's call button and-
"No! Get away from that. Get away from him." Peter looked up at the gun that James was waving in his face.
"James, he needs a nurse. He can't breathe on his own yet—he just got out of surgery."
Peter was trying to remain calm, to negotiate. But his only bargaining chip was Neal, and James had nearly killed Neal earlier that day. Did he still care for his son? Did he ever care?
James scowled at Neal and shoved him against the wall, his arm pressing against Neal's throat.
"God dammit, Neal!"
Neal struggled to take a breath.
"Are you going to kill your own son?"James shook his head.
"I said get away from him," James spat at Peter.
Peter looked at James and shook his head.
"We both know I can't do that, James."
He shoved Peter hard, and Peter tumbled backwards against the wall.
"I didn't mean it, any of it. I didn't mean to hurt him. I just, I just.." James was interrupted by a violet gasp from Neal. His eyelids were fluttering.
Peter unsteadily rose to his feet.
James glared at him, raw anger in his eyes. "This is your fault. He isn't even your son. He's not yours. He's not."
"Show me now. Be a decent human being. Be a good man. Dad—" Neal's heart raced at the thought of Peter, Peter, in prison for murder. Peter in handcuffs. His mind was still reeling at the revelation that his own father, his flesh in blood James, had really done it, had really killed a cop.
James took a dangerous step towards Neal.. but Neal was spiraling.
"You used me. You conned your own son to get the evidence box. This was never about me… You destroyed my life when you left thirty years ago, but I'll be dammed if you're going to destroy Peter's life. He's been more of a father to me than you ever had."
James clenched his fist at his side.
"I'm his father. I'm his father. Not you." James was losing it. He lifted his gun and fired a quick round at Peter, aiming for his abdomen.
Peter slumped to the floor, clutching at his wound.
James turned his back and began fumbling with the tubes once more.
Before Peter lost consciousness, he watched the blurry figure of James Bennett carting Neal out of the hospital room.