A Minute


A/N: Hey there everyone! :D Firstly, a big, big thank you to all the readers out there for the amazing views, reviews and favourite/follows, it's been encouraging to say the least! :D When I started with this fic, I had an idea about how I wanted to go about with it but I had no clue I would enjoy myself this much when writing it.

Thank you for all the support so far, guys! It really means a lot. :)

Not keeping y'all for long,

Happy Reading! :D :D


Chapter 7

Wafts of strawberry-essence shampoo tangled with the essence of his sterile environment, the scent only too familiar as it drew him out of his rapidly waning sleep. Lazily opening his eyes, he found Sara sit on the chair beside him with a Sterling Bosch file in hand, completely absorbed in its details. Neal tried to catch her attention by clearing his throat, but all that escaped was the broken sound of rattling stones in a vessel.

That definitely caught her attention.

"Ah, sleeping beauty is up," she chuckled, instantly bringing forth a glass of water that he lapped on only too greedily, ensuring that his greed didn't interfere with hurting anything more inside him. Once she set aside the glass, Neal managed to raise his head independently for the first time, instantly feeling a lot better than the stagnant posture he was too tired to shift from.

"Sara. You look particularly breath-taking today," complimented Neal, wondering just how much of it was a pick-up line when he looked at how luminous she came off in the mundane hospital glow. She gave him a trademark grin.

"I can't say the same about you though, pretty boy," she replied, letting her head sway in the direction of his half-lying form with shrugged shoulders. Neal blushed.

"How are you feeling?" she asked when conversation stilled, replacing the Sterling Bosch file upon her lap now that her attention was fully taken elsewhere. And even though Neal was growing tired of what he believed to be an extremely ridiculous question, he gave her an answer nonetheless.

"As good as one could expect to be in a situation like this, I guess. Atleast I'm alive," he added cheekily and Sara laughed.

"I see you've regained the powers of that silver tongue." Neal held her gaze, the room suddenly dissolving until all that remained was them. He certainly missed those fireworks between them. Sara stroked his hair softly before breaking their eye lock.

"I've missed you, Neal."

"I've missed you too. Elizabeth told me that you've been a regular visitor."

"I have, yeah. Since she informed me about what had happened," explained Sara a little unnecessarily as she toyed with her fingers. Neal gently pulled apart her hands before holding one in his own.

"I guess you were right. I dreamt a lot bigger than I could handle."

"Daydreaming isn't bad, Caffrey. It's only when you can't ground yourself to reality when the problem arises," replied Sara, her eyes meeting his own once again. He noticed that like Elizabeth, even she hadn't been sleeping too well. It was the first time he was seeing her since their confrontation at his apartment and if truth be told, he didn't know what to expect between them even now.

"I had the opportunity to escape with Mozzie," he confessed at length, feeling a little burden lift off his shoulders. A knowing smile was what he got in return.

"But you didn't. Why?" she asked, now genuinely curious. Either no one had a good answer to give her or else she hadn't bought whatever Mozzie must have revealed to her. Either way, he could see the eagerness twinkle in her eyes, too alike hope.

"You, amongst other reasons," answered Neal, now gently rubbing his thumb over the back of her palm. She looked taken aback. He continued. "Sara, in all my life, I've always been surrounded by people who loved me for the man they could mould me into becoming. Especially Kate, even though for the longest time I refused to see the truth because I was that madly in love with her. It's only after I created this life that I've found people who are ready to love me beyond the conman the world knows me as. It's a challenge to love me and trust me, I know," he added and Sara grinned mischievously.

"Are you saying that you love me, Caffrey?"

"You tell me," he replied, instantly catching on to her deflected gaze. It took her a minute to compose herself before she tossed her head back and gave him a nervous smile.

"You certainly are a challenge, I'll give you that."

Neal chuckled, his chest instantly letting lose its stiffened ache. Cursing mentally at this new ailment of pain-driven laughter, he took a minute to let the pain subside before speaking again.

"And perhaps that isn't going to change anytime soon. But you, like Peter and Elizabeth, like me for who I really am rather than what I can become. You not only walked away when I showed you the treasure when you could have very easily been a part of it, but also didn't sell me out to Peter. That showed me more than anything else that have something genuine we can actually make work. And not in a daydream."

It took him a minute to realize just how unlike himself he sounded even though he'd meant every word of what he'd just spoken.

Sara seemed to be of the same opinion as she planted a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek.

"I like this new Neal Caffrey."

"Perhaps dying was all I needed to do to figure stuff out," threw in Neal a little too casually and saw the stricken look cross her face in an instant. He regretted it instantly, remembering Mozzie's outburst from the previous time and let that regret flash across his face along with the growing pain in his chest.

"And you're sure about this? About us?" asked Sara, his voice a little unsteady but gaining back as much composure she could in the few lost seconds.

Neal nodded.

"Sara, I would completely understand if you didn't want to have anything to do with me after all of this. It's not like I've given you a 101 reasons for being best boyfriend to begin with. Whatever you decide, I'll accept," he added sincerely, his hand now travelling upon the bandage on his head that he realized suddenly had become thinner. It definitely took away the partial heaviness he'd experienced the last two times he'd woken up.

Sara gave it a moment before she chose to reply, Neal instantly catching to her cautiously phrased monologue. Good, he mentally sighed in relief, atleast his thoughts and deductions rolled faster now. He wasn't going to be daft for life.

"Neal, I don't expect you to turn into an upstanding, moral citizen. You live in the clouds and I live on West 69th," Neal smiled at the familiarity of the sentence. Sara continued.

"It's the little conman in you that gives you that touch of extraordinary, the thrill and rush that I've experienced a little too much ever since I've been a part of your life. It's who you are. And I understand that we all have grey areas that define who we really are. I don't expect you to be upfront about everything or change yourself into someone you are not. But there's a line that we shouldn't cross, a line from which we can never come back and as long as I'm assured that you can see that line clearly and not tread upon it, I think we can work just fine."

Neal smiled softly.

"The lines are often a blur, I'll admit that much," he confessed cheekily and to this Sara shook her head.

"Nobody can change overnight, Caffrey. But the fact that we're having this conversation into the late hours of the night is proof enough that you've changed enough," she admitted, not giving him enough time to process what she'd spoken before planting a soft kiss upon his lips. Neal felt slightly out of breath but he didn't mind it this time even though his chest did.

"What time is it?" he asked once they'd separated, unable to hide the gasp of pain that threatened to spoil his happy hour of consciousness. Sara stood up gracefully and buzzed the station with a playful grin on her lips.

"It's time to call a nurse."

-x-

Recovery was more of a bitch than Neal had originally anticipated.

Five days had passed since he fully regained consciousness and even though his on-case had doctor expressed her delight at his quick recovery, his body refused to feel the same. The doctor had made it clear that the blood loss had definitely taken a toll on his body and regaining complete strength would take longer than in usual cases but his wounds were healing rapidly, the 4 stitches on the back of his head taken off the previous day along with the bandages.

The doctor had reduced his pain medications alongside, letting him remain awake for longer hours now as he awakened to a new face each time (that he now suspected was on doctor's orders). June, Jones and Diana made their visit on the following day after Sara, the older lady having stayed back for the night while Jones and Diana managed to visit him during lunch break. Contrary to his initial apprehension, the two agents were as friendly with him as always, perhaps a little more so than usual but nothing that was faked.

The only surprise that came was Diana laughing on his jokes, taking both himself and Jones by surprise before she threatened to smack their mouths shut, instantly returning the atmosphere of snickering looks back to normal.

Neal had been scheduled his first respiratory therapy this afternoon to strengthen his lungs even though he didn't like the sound of it. Laughing alone was a task and he couldn't keep up with a continuous flow of conversation for more than 40 minutes at a time. And the more he stayed awake for, the more antsy he got. The nurses who were only too used to a still-Neal Caffrey until a week ago had their hands full suddenly by the overly enthusiastic conman, taken off their feet by his charm even though they were aware about a certain strawberry blonde having his entire attention otherwise.

He was by no measure at even 50% of his actual capacity but the nurses found even that much a lot to take. And so they were only too happy to let visitors in, even Mozzie who'd finally deemed him fit enough to device schemes about how best to make a run from the hospital, caught in the act by Elizabeth just as Neal was about to take off the oximeter. Mozzie was banned to visit him that entire day.

Neal bore Elizabeth's silent mother-hen treatment the entire morning only for her to have gone back to normal in the afternoon once his first solid meal of mashed food was served, forcing him to finish it all or not have Mozzie return to the hospital at all, in disguise or otherwise. By the evening he spoke to his case doctor about wanting to go, only to get another reprimanding lecture from the doctor this time in her mid-40s.

While the doctor was happy with his overall progress and steadily healing wounds, she was still apprehensive to commit to giving him an early release owing to his still sensitive wounds prone to infection. And that fact that he was restless was what she worried posed the biggest threats to him opening his wounds or negatively impacting the steady progress of his healing lung.

He scowled all through evaluation and dinner, secretly enjoying Elizabeth and June fuss him into having more mashed food even though he didn't let on. Sara and Mozzie would pop in during their free time and smuggle books and art material that the doctor gave him permission to pursue as long as he didn't strain himself too much. Jones brought him his first case file this morning on a small heist that had happened at the Met, perking Neal's spirits up considerably.

Life felt easier for once in spite of his several health complications but he was getting used to it. Adapting to situations had been his biggest plus point. He wasn't going to let a bullet and a concussion hinder him now. Or the tracking anklet that the Marshalls had slapped back on his leg early this morning when Jones had come to visit him. 20 days had been a record for the US Marshalls' Office patience and Neal was appreciative of the same even though none of the others were.

And yet the bubble of his warm, opioid-induced happiness hadn't been able to obliviate the obvious fact from catching his attention.

Peter was the only one who hadn't visited him so far. Not even when the anklet had been put back.

And every time that crossed his mind, the ache in his chest only increased.

-x-

"Honey, you've got to meet him."

Peter looked up from his file and stared at his wife giving him an X-Ray look. This was the first dinner he and Elizabeth were having together at home since the night before she was kidnapped by Keller. Sara had volunteered to stay behind for the night, having smuggled in a dinner date basket for the young conman who seemed completed drained and in a pain-induced temper after his first therapy session. She figured that a little romance was all he needed to cheer up and ensured that nobody trespassed over their date, including Mozzie.

She and Peter sat the dining table with Satchmo at her feet, both of them helping themselves to take-out Chinese as Peter worked on a mortgage fraud case alongside.

"I will," he sighed, looking slightly disgruntled. "It's just that I have a lot of pending cases to catch up with that I've missed in those ten days."

"If the case pressure is building that much, you can always take your files to the hospital and work on them," suggested Elizabeth, clearing not buying whatever Peter was trying to feed her. He took a swig off his beer bottle, letting the fingers of his free hand run through his hair.

"Hon, it's not that easy."

"Are we going to keep dancing like this or are you going to tell me why you've been avoiding seeing him ever since he regained consciousness?" asked Elizabeth, her voice now seriously. Peter fidgeted underneath her gaze but knew that if he could share the truth with anyone, it was her, no matter how ridiculous it may sound.

"He nearly had an attack when he woke up to my sight."

It didn't take Elizabeth much to put two and two together.

"The doctor said that he had the attack because he was disorientated by his surroundings and given the ordeal he's been through, it was natural for him to panic," corrected Elizabeth in her trademark reprimanding tone. But Peter was beyond that tonight. It was as though he'd finally run out of gas after the adrenaline of keeping Neal alive wore off. He couldn't remember the last time he'd caught a good night's sleep ever since Keller had taken his wife.

"I can't anymore... it's too much," added Peter, shutting close the file in front of him. He wanted to crash to bed and have one peaceful night with nothing more than the knowledge that Neal was alive, his wife was safe and that Keller was in prison for now.

He was tired of the same nightmare over and over again.

"Honey, you didn't give up on him in all those days at the hospital. Why now when he's awake and healing well?" asked El, taking his hand into her own. Peter felt a shudder run through him at the thought of Neal gagging over the tube down his throat. He shook his head to rid himself of the image.

"Because he's alive and healing well. I've disappointed him as a friend, El. He's never going to take me back again." A look passed through his wife's face that nearly resembled looking amused but he brushed it aside. His mind had been playing too many tricks with him off late.

"You didn't shoot him, Keller did-"

"-while I was daydreaming in the car on moral debates," cut Peter, the sour truth making his wounds of guilt burn more. Neither was he happy about the situation nor was he about what his lack of prompt action costed Neal. "Had I gotten to him a minute sooner, none of this would have happened."

"You can't be so harsh on yourself, Peter."

"It's my job to protect him. He's my responsibility."

"He's not a child anymore, hon. He's fully aware about the consequences his actions and decisions have," reasoned El, but Peter shook his head. Neal had the spirit of a 5-year old in the body of a 35-year old. And the stories that'd floated back home from the hospital in the last five days had only been proof.

"Doesn't sound like it from what you described about his escape attempt from yesterday."

The thought about Neal sulking and pouting through evaluation and dinner after being denied an early release and given a combined lecture by Elizabeth for his escape attempt and the doctor for what was deemed an "eccentric question" after just days of resurfacing from a near-fatal injury was funny enough for Peter to laugh in spite of himself. El joined him soon enough.

"It would have been hilarious had his pneumothorax not been in the picture," added El, finally sobering down. The couple sighed at the thought of the blue-eyed man-child that had become such an integral part of their family without their knowledge. "Peter, he really misses you."

"Why? He has all of you visiting him. He even has a case to solve in his free time," he reasoned half-heartedly, knowing fully well that he missed the young man as much as he did. The hospital was twenty minutes away and yet his body stopped responding to movement every time he actually yearned to meet Neal. Which was every moment. There were a lot of things he needed to tell him. They needed to tell each other. To clear with each other.

As though catching on to his thoughts, El expressed the same.

"We are not you, Peter. And Neal doesn't like solving cases, he likes doing them with you. There's only so much you can put off meeting him before he gets the wrong idea."

"What wrong idea?" asked Peter, suddenly taken aback. If anything, Neal needed to know how guilty he was for letting emotion cloud his judgment and put him in harm's way during the mission.

"Why don't you ask him that yourself?" urged El with a knowing smile on her face.

"I'll... I'll go in tomorrow if I get time," tried Peter to evade but one look at his wife was enough to know that she'd heard enough excuses on this.

"Do you want to go to a shrink?" she asked, her voice not unkind yet the conviction of doing her threat real did not go amiss.

"Honey-" began Peter helplessly but El stood up, clearly having the last word in.

"If you want to sort things out in your mind and with Neal, there's no way you can do it except by talking to him."

She walked towards the sink and disposed off the dirty dishes and the empty beer bottles, Peter left to stare at the file in front of his even though his mind was far away from mortgage frauds. He couldn't face Neal after all this. Somehow through the entire ordeal and Keller being sent to jail, Peter had stopped thinking about Neal's mistakes.

In comparison to what he had to go through, his mistakes seemed almost naïve.

And even though he knew that wasn't quite true when it came to the magnanimity of his crime, he knew that at the end of the day if given the choice between the law and his friend, he would choose his friend every single time. It's what he'd been doing ever since he'd taken Neal on as his CI and it's what he'd continue doing until the end.

His friend had changed a lot in this year and a half and he'd seen biggest living proof in the fact that he chose the life he had in New York against a life of highs and adrenaline kicks. He'd chosen Peter to guide him to the point where the line grew clear over Mozzie to take him back to the point where the lines were blur.

He was proud of the man Neal had become in his influence. And he knew that until he was treated as a criminal, no matter what the tracking anklet did otherwise, Neal would always believe he was a criminal. Peter didn't want his friend to believe that. And if he didn't go soon, he was afraid that Neal would actually end up believing something that wasn't true.

But he was scared. So scared.

He didn't realize that he'd actually spoken the last two words out loud until El reclaimed her seat beside him and pulled him into a comforting hug, Peter wanting nothing more than to sink into his wife's arms and fall asleep in that moment.

"I know you are. But I think he is too. And that's why he needs his friend to tell him that everything's going to be okay."


Constructive criticism will be more than welcome and sorry for any typos. :D :D