Day late. Here's the next one… not much reviews, let me know what you think! On to the hospital.

Chapter 7

They had been in the hospital for three days. El was released the first night, Peter the second night – having only sustained bruising. He had stayed in Neal's room every minute since. El was living at the house with Diana and a team outside as they guys hadn't been caught. Neal's anklet had been replaced – much to Peter's disagreement – and armed guards were out side his door 24/7, in case they came back to finish the job.

He was sitting on the wide window ledge, looking out at the city below him. The constant beep of the heart monitor soothing. He had been intubated, but it had been removed earlier that day. Now he was waiting.

oOo

The monitor was speeding up. Slow at first, than quicker. Peter didn't notice, half asleep in the chair. He saw Neal's brow furrow, knowing he was trying to wake, pressing the call button. Three nurses came in, followed by the doctor. They were doing tests, Peter off to the side. But the more awake Neal got, the more agitated he became. Hearing the monitor scream, and Neal whimper, he stepped forward, wanting to help. But as soon as he was in Neal's eye line – left eye open and frantic, right bandaged shut – the alarms started to sound. He tried to move away, the same look on his face as when in the room. He was scared of Peter.

oOo

The doctor thought it was better Peter sat outside, having to sedate Neal slightly to calm him down. He was in the corridor outside the room, Neal's fear the only thing he could see. He felt a hand on his shoulder, flinching slightly, opening his eyes to see the doctor standing, walking in front of him to sit in the next seat.

"Agent Burke. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm good. How is he?"

"He's as good to be expected. Initial tests are showing positive signs. He is more aware now, sedatives wearing off. You can go in if you want." Peter nodded, both men standing before the doctor put his hand on Peter's arm, walking the other way. Taking a deep breath, Peter entered the room.

The machine was quieter than before. Neal lying with his left eye open, looking at the ceiling. Peter sat down, Neal looking at him, smile on his face.

"Hey." It was small, his voice obviously sore. It was quiet, sounding vulnerable. Peter didn't like it. He put his hand over the one resting on the white sheets.

"Hey buddy. How you doing? Had me worried there." He smiled as Neal half smiled back.

"Sore, tired, sore."

"I can't imagine."

"Are you ok? And El?"

"We're fine. You don't have to worry about us ok." The room was quiet, monitor and bustle from outside the only sounds. "Look, Neal, about earlier..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I was disorientated... I..."

"Don't apologise, it's ok. It's fine. As long as you're ok now, hum?"

Neal just gave him a sad smile, turning to look at the ceiling again. They both knew he wasn't ok.

oOo

It had been six days since their day of hell. Peter was still living in the hospital, mainly Neal's room. But that was going to change. The doctor had told them Neal would be released that afternoon. They said it would be best for him to have someone living with him, and a guard team was still in place at Peter's house so Neal was moving in until the guys were caught.

"You know you were chasing me for over three years right?" They were almost at the front doors to the hospital car park, Neal in a wheel chair – he hated it but it was hospital policy – and Peter pushing him. He had just told Neal he was living with them, and this was his only response. It made him smile.

"There is no way these guys are as good as you." Neal laughed, stopping quickly, grabbing his ribs.

"You know not to make me laugh."

They were outside, the air biting, both shivering. The standard FBI jeep was waiting, the armed driver out the door, opening the back. Getting Neal in the seat was difficult, his body was still sore and the cold air made it stiff, limbs not co-operating. Peter didn't want the unfamiliar agent helping, so he smiled, casually taking Neal's arm from the agent's hand.

oOo

The ride home was uneventful. Every time the car braked, Neal would hiss in pain at his seat belt tightened around his ribs. Every time Peter would cringe, reaching over mid way home to unfastened it, earning a small smile.

The weather was murky and grey, the ground still shiny from the rain the night before. The Agent had come to the back to help Neal, but Peter had jumped out, almost beating him to it. He took his friend's arm, helping him walk the short distance to the front door, but trying to make it look like he wasn't, tightening his grip and wincing every time Neal groaned in pain while trying to conceal it.

The house was warm, the air smelt of El's cooking. She and Diana came around the corner, welcoming her husband and guest. She was smiling, but the she looked scared that Neal was out of hospital and in her house, in case any one of them would break at any moment.

"Hi, honey, how you feeling? I hope Peter's been looking after you." She stepped forward, gently giving Neal a hug, giving a brief glance to her husband. Now that they were in, Peter could see the paleness of his friends' skin around the dark bruising and bandaged eye. Now he thought about it, Neal was leaning more and more of his weight on him.

"I'm ok, thank you for letting me stay."

"Of course, wouldn't have it any other way," she could see his eye continue to drift to the still blue tinge of her eye, so she turned slightly to Peter, "well, come in, dinner is almost ready. So you can both get settled. Neal, Jones went by June's yesterday and picked up some of your stuff. He used your key since she's out of town. I've tried to get in contact with her, but can't seem too." She started walking back to the kitchen, still talking, Diana nodding along, glancing back at her team mates.

"Right, think we better get you sitting down before you fall down, taking me with you," they shuffled forward to the sofa, both slowly sinking down to the comfortable cushions together. Neal grunted as Peter lay him against the back of the sofa, his back pain searing, "You ok? Need pain meds?"

"No, no, I'm good. Just need a minute." His head was spinning, every time he moved there was pain, and it was a reminder of that day. But he didn't want anyone worrying anymore than they already were. So he closed his eyes and rested his head back.