Come on Neal, what's wrong Peter wondered as they heard nothing come out of the consultant's voice. Neal had seemed off the whole morning and Peter had wanted to cancel the meeting but he didn't…suddenly they heard a gasp and the suspect telling Neal he was going to die.
"Go! Go!" Agent Burke ordered as his team rushed into the building. "Drop your weapon." Peter's voice held a noticeable edge as he aimed his gun. "Drop it now." Peter's arms were steady and his eyes never left the target. "Do it or I'll shoot." The fact that the suspect's gun was pointed at Neal's head only added to the tension in the room.
"It's an easy decision" Peter quietly said, hoping to calm the desperate man. "Put the gun down and we all walk out of here alive." It seemed like an eternity but in reality only a few minutes passed before the gun aimed at Neal was lowered and the suspect was swarmed.
"Neal, are you ok?" Peter grabbed his partner's shoulder but Neal wouldn't look at him. Peter was called away and when he turned to find Neal his friend was gone.
"Jones, start tracking Neal's anklet." Peter glanced at Diana who stood nearby. "Let's go clean up the mess so I can find Neal and deal with him."
"Neal, I'm coming in." Peter gave a courtesy knock before entering the apartment with his key. Neal was seated on the sofa and didn't move as Peter approached him.
"Can you tell me what happened today?" Peter sat down next to his friend.
"Sorry" Neal muttered as he leaned back heavily.
"Neal, I don't want you to apologize. You need to tell me what happened." Neal turned his way and Peter realized how pale he looked.
"Are you feeling ok?"
"No." Neal shook his head. "Started…last night…can't keep anything down…no sleep…" Neal struggled with every word and he closed his eyes with a deep sigh.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Peter asked as he reached over and placed his hand on Neal's forehead. "Not too warm" he stated, as Neal shook beneath his touch. Peter lowered his arm and reached across Neal's chest, finally resting his hand on Neal's shoulder with a gentle grip. Peter long ago had stopped questioning the relationship he had with Neal.
The con man had weaseled his way into the Burke's lives long before the accident and since then it had turned into something else, though Peter wasn't one to put his feelings into words. He had gone to court soon after the accident to become Neal's medical proxy and no one had questioned his decision. He and Elizabeth had spent every free moment helping with Neal's recovery and no one batted an eye; it seemed the outside world already knew what had taken them longer to figure it out…Neal had somehow become part of their family.
"Neal, I want you to come home with me…Elizabeth would kill me if I left you here while you were sick."
Neal only managed a nod but it was more than Peter thought he would get and a strong testament to how lousy he was feeling. "Sit tight for a few minutes while I put together an overnight bag."
One night had turned to two and when Neal wasn't getting any better Peter decided to drag him to the doctor. They had figured it was the stomach flu but what had worried them the most was the other symptoms that were cropping up, the shaking and the inability to string words together and most frightening… the same mental confusion that seemed to surround Neal right after the accident.
"Hey!" Elizabeth sat down next to her husband. "At least he's sleeping" she whispered as she leaned against Peter.
"Did he cry?" Peter asked with memories of the night before still etched in his mind.
"No." Elizabeth shook her head. "He seems better and more alert. I wish the doctor had answers for us."
In Peter's opinion the doctor visit had been a waste of time… and the advice nothing more than they already knew; rest and drink plenty of liquids. Why Neal was having the other symptoms was a mystery and one the doctor couldn't explain. He did feel that the illness was the main cause and assumed as Neal felt better, the other things would disappear.
They had been told from the beginning that brain injuries would cause issues for the rest of Neal's life and though it sounded cliché, one day at a time was the best method of operation.
"Peter, you sleep tonight and I'll stay with him, ok?"
"Ok." Peter stood with a yawn, worn out from the previous night.
Neal opened his eyes with a slight moan as he shielded his face from the sun glaring through the window. He turned his head and stared at Peter, sleeping sideways in the chair, mouth hanging open and snoring.
"Peter!" Neal called his name twice and when the agent didn't wake he took a pillow and threw it at him.
Peter sat up and stared towards the bed, surprised to see Neal awake and watching him.
"You were snoring" Neal said to explain the pillow now sitting on Peter's lap.
"How do you feel?" Peter asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Neal sniffed the air. "One of us badly needs a shower" he commented much to the delight of the agent.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Because you sound like yourself" Peter answered as he moved from the chair to the edge of the bed.
Neal's eyes widened with confusion. "Peter, why are you sleeping in my room?" He glanced around. "Why am I at your house?" Panic set in and Peter laid a calming hand on Neal's chest, talking softly until Neal settled down.
"Neal, you've been here for four days, mostly sleeping. You had the stomach flu and it seemed to exasperate the effects of your head injury."
"Why?" Neal pulled away from Peter's touch and sat up slightly.
"The doctor's not sure. He feels your body overcompensates from the brain damage and so when it had to fight off the virus it got all out of whack." Peter shrugged. "You need to be honest with me when you're not feeling well so we can prepare for what might happen."
"It's always going to be there, isn't it?"
"Neal, I can't answer that. I don't think anyone can." Neal seemed devastated by the answer and Peter wish he could reassure him that things would be better, but he didn't know, no one did.
"Neal, I'll put a chair in the shower for you ok?" Peter walked out hoping a shower and something to eat would help Neal.
Peter sat at the table and nursed his coffee as Neal finished off his eggs and dry toast.
"Neal, eat the banana, it's good for your stomach." Peter was glad to see his appetite return but he still seemed sad by the turn of events.
"Peter, am I back to reading old files?"
"No, I don't think so. As long as we know what happened we can control it." Peter leaned forward, finger pointing at the ex con. "If you ever go undercover feeling sick again you will be so buried in the file room they will need shovels to find you, understand?"
Neal smiled, as he plopped the last of the banana in his mouth.
"I have some errands to run. Feel like getting some fresh air?"
Neal nodded as he stood gingerly. "Give me five minutes and I'll be ready."
"OK Quasi" Peter said as Neal walked away, hunched over with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
