Those Haunts That Linger: Chapter 7

This chapter will be a lot shorter than the previous ones, because I haven't written as much as I thought and haven't had time or been in the mood to work on it. But I am now! I promise!

Please enjoy. And you know I love to hear from you. :)

WARNINGS: Please see chapters one and two for the warnings.

PS! I don't own anything other than the plot! This is meant for reading not suing!

Slipping Backwards

As their son seemed to warily climb the stairs, the Burkes turned to the doctor.

"That was what happened last night, wasn't it? He had a nightmare that made him sick." The doctor nodded.

"That seems to be the most probable scenario. However I am...worried. His dreams are obviously bad enough to make him physically ill. That combined with how little sleep he is getting will only make him more sick and tired throughout the day. I think the dreams are the first hurdle we are going to have to deal with. And I want to warn you now. The first one is always the hardest." El couldn't stop the rush of sadness that came over her. Her baby was so scared, and they didn't know. The worst part was that he couldn't, or wouldn't, see that he was hurting and needed help. A tear or two slipped down her cheeks, before she wiped them away. Peter had been quite for the most part, just letting everything sink in. He was frustrated, pissed, livid. His son was in pain. It physically hurt to see him like that, knowing that there really wasn't much that he could do. Except wait and be there for when the dam breaks. He dreaded that time, but knew it needed to come for Neal to be able to heal.

"Is there anything we can do?" He was an FBI agent dammit. He needed to do something. The doctor was quick to reassure him though.

"Yes. You can be there for him. Trust me. Getting help was a smart choice on your part, but it was even better that you decided to stay with him. He needs that. He needs you here. I think a large part of all of this is that he fears that if he admits to something being wrong, you won't want to be a part of his life anymore. Neal is afraid he could lose you, for saying the wrong thing." Peter clenched his eyes shut.

"But we would never- He is our son. We would not abandon him, or throw him out. No matter what." Dr. Jenkins nodded.

"Again, yes. I know that. You know that. But with Neal's family views and views of himself so skewed and twisted because of Frank, he just can't see that right now. He knows that you care for him, but his mind keeps asking how long before that runs out? How long before he takes that wrong step, and it all goes away? He loves you too much to risk making such a mistake. What he sees right now is that you are hurting, and that by going along with these therapy sessions, he can make you happy. So that is what he is doing. Trying to make you happy. What you have to do, Peter, El, is show him that he will never lose you. That you won't walk out as soon as things get hard. That you will love him, faults, hurts, fears, emotional outbursts and all." Peter gripped El's hand and held on tight. He could do this. They would do this. For Neal.

Feet on the stairs alerted them to Neal's return. He had obviously seen their faces, because he immediately tensed and grew wary.

"Should I-do you want me to...?" He gestured back up the stairs with his free hand.

"No, Neal. I'm sorry. We were talking and...we're not upset with you, Son. Please come here." Neal did, slowly. He sunk back into his seat, letting Peter gingerly wrap an arm around his shoulders, then he seemed to hesitate before addressing the book in his lap. Neal even started to pick a the edges a bit, before laying it on the coffee table between them all.

"Neal, is that one of your sketch books?" El looks at him, a little confused as she begins to absent-mindedly rub a hand up and down his back. Neal was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable with all of the touching, but made himself endure it for their sake. They need it. They need it. It's for them. So he just nodded, while trying to imperceptibly shrink into himself a little bit.

"I-uh, when I have a nightmare...I needed to get them out of my head, and this was just lying around, so I figured...So, yeah. There are a lot of drawings in there." He nodded his consent, when the doctor silently asked for permission to look inside the pages.

Neal knew that psychologists especially were trained to control their facial expressions and emotions when going into an appointment. However, Neal was a con artist, and he was taught how to read people, especially when they are hiding something. The doctor wasn't doing herself any favors in this area, as she was personally involved with one of the clients. Given that crack in her armor, Neal could read her like an open book. She had smoothed out any expressions before she opened the sketchbook. That soon changed once she got a good look.

Her lips pursed ever so slightly, and there was a small furrowing of her brow. As she continued to flip through, her green eyes widened just enough to tell Neal that what she saw had gotten to her. It took her a while to get through all of the drawings, but she did. Once she was finished, she turned back to a drawing near the middle of the book. She leaned forward to return it to Neal.

"Neal, why don't you explain this one to me." The young man understood immediately why the doctor had picked the one that she did. Neal remembered that one distinctly.

"Um...okay. Well..." After setting the sketchbook down, he started to recount what he knew of that particular nightmare.

It had been about when he noticed his dreams taking a turn for the worse. Instead of merely bad memories and taunting slurs being flung at him, or him being bound and unable to escape, he was standing alone in a dark room. He couldn't see much but could still recognize it as his old bedroom. The scent of sweat and tears and...other things made him nauseous. Without even looking, he knew there was no way out. There never was. A door opened from somewhere behind him, and he whirled around in time to see a hulking figure taking up most of the doorway. The only thing recognizably human about it was the leering smile that stretched its face. Neal stopped remembering around that point. For one, he knew it was a bit too much for him to handle at the moment, for another there had been plenty of other dreams to push that one away.

"That's...all I can remember. Sorry." Dr. Jenkins shook her head.

"No, Neal. That's good. Thank you." The psychiatrist took a good look at her patient and decided it was time to end the session. But first she wanted to talk to Neal. Alone.

"Mr. And Mrs. Burke, may I talk to Neal privately for a moment?" She turned to give Neal a reassuring smile. "It won't take long." Peter and El looked to their son to see if he was okay with being left alone with the doctor. Neal almost rolled his eyes. Great. Now they're too scared to leave me alone with anybody. He nodded finally, and they went upstairs to put on something more comfortable to lounge about in.

"Is something wrong?" Neal couldn't think of any other reason the doc would want to speak with him privately. Hell, he probably broke some sacred therapy law already and was about to get chewed out for it.

"No, Neal. You didn't do anything wrong." Not what he asked, yet it answered his actual question. "I think that this is a much better way for you to deal with your nightmares than writing them in a journal. However," Here it comes. "I would like you to think about something. At our next session, I want to talk about what is bothering you the most from your very recent dreams. I know this is an old sketchbook, and from the near permanent dark circles under your eyes, I can tell that they have gotten progressively worse than these. So, next time we meet, I want you to be prepared to answer that question. Alright?" The young man nodded. He would have to think a lot to answer that one.

"And, Neal, Peter and El love you very much. They did this, because they want to help you. They don't like seeing you hurting. They didn't call me in, because you were too much of a problem for them, or they just couldn't take it anymore. They love you. Don't forget that. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that she left. Out the door without another word, leaving Neal curled up on the couch meditating on what she meant.

Again sorry for the length, or lack of it. Hopefully next chap will be longer. I am writing it right now as I am also updating, and it was supposed to be a simple little fluffy section...But you know me. It has turned into a major angst ridden turning point. O.o You'll just have to wait and see. ;)

I do enjoy taking prompts, and I don't bite, so don't be afraid to throw something out there for me to take a gander at. :)

PS- My Harry Potter abuse reveal fic is up and ready for you to take a peek at. :) Let me know what you think. :)