Normally this would be part of a larger chapter but I'm pressed for time. So, I'm posting this part and will finish and post the rest hopefully tonight. Just FYI.
Neal was getting uncomfortably comfortable. The white heat of the pain was receding in his body but every inch of territory the pain reluctantly conceded was claimed by a numbing cold. Neal knew that he should be bothered by this but the relief from the pain was too great.
"Hey, Neal." Sam slurred. "Wherzzh yurr FBI feindzuh?"
Neal didn't answer.
"Huh? Golden boy?" Sam barked and then giggled. "Golden boy. Thassfunny cuz yurr not enin blond."
Neal watched him try to take a drink from the empty bottle … again.
"Hey! Hey, Neal!" Sam stage whispered while suppressing a drunken giggle. "What's that?"
Sam made an exaggerated movement as though listening to some strange sound.
"You hear that, Neal?" Sam asked again. "You know what that is? It's the FBI NOT cominna get you!" Sam dissolved into giggles, obviously under the impression that he was a comedic genius.
"You talked real big, didnya?" He slurred and then puffing out his chest continued in what Neal supposed was an imitation of himself. "I'm on a new team. Peter trusses me. I trusss Peter."
Neal closed his eyes, the only thing he could manage to do to show Sam his contempt.
"Peter, Peter, Peter." Sam said then chuckled. "Thassa funny name. Peter, Peter, Peter."
He tried again to drink from the empty bottle and then angrily threw it away.
"Wherz Peter, huh Neal? You're dyin Neal! And you know what? Nobody carz."
Neal didn't bother to respond. Sam couldn't possible understand a guy like Peter. Neal barely understood Peter.
At first, all Neal had understood was that Peter's actions were predictable. He knew that Peter acted in a reliable way and Neal trusted Peter to react to situations in that reliable way.
That was only in the beginning. No, Neal hadn't understood Peter at first, not like he did other people. He knew what Peter would do but not why. It had taken Neal a while to figure out that Peter had integrity. It sounded so simple but integrity had up to that time been a myth to Neal. It was a lofty ideal that lots of people talked about, few sought and as far as Neal was concerned, none maintained. But that was Peter. Peter not only held himself to a high standard but that standard was part of how Peter saw himself.
Peter didn't just track criminals down or uphold the law, Peter was an FBI Agent. When Neal had finally understood that, he also understood that Peter was someone he could trust completely when he said he was Neal's friend. He wasn't just someone who's actions Neal could predict or who could be depended upon in pursuit of the same goal but someone who Neal could truly trust.
Neal could try explaining something like that to Sam but he'd be wasting his breath and he had precious little of that to spare.
A faint snore coming from Sam's general direction prompted Neal to open his suddenly heavy eyelids. Sam had passed out.
This is it? Neal thought with a strange sense of detachment. This is the last thing I'm going to see? Sam getting sloppy drunk in a windowless room?
Neal rejected the thought and closed his eyes again. He filled his mind with faces, concentrating on the details. Peter, Elizabeth, Mozzie, Alex, Donaghey, Ariel, even Jones and Diana were there, and of course Kate. Neal found himself smiling and despite the shiver that ran through his body he felt loved and warm as the pain continued to slip away.
