Not as quick as I thought it would be, but here's the new chapter! It's a little lengthy to compensate for not having posted it earlier. Some questions will be answered in this chapter and more in the next one. This chapter goes back in :)

Ten Weeks Earlier

The monotonous beep of the machine dragged him back to consciousness. Slowly, his eyes opened. A pool of white light bathed him. He squinted his eyes narrowly and closed them again.

The second time he awoke, a washed out white ceiling greeted him. A strong sterile disinfectant smell made him groan. A dull and slight throb ebbed from his back. How he hated hospitals.

"Neal?" The voice came from afar. He wanted to respond to it, but his eyes started to close again. He surrendered into the dark once again, out of pure exhaustion.

Daylight flooded the room. As he came to, shapes blurred close to his face. He mustered concentration to pinpoint the figure standing in front of his bed. His eyes squinted in the harsh beam of light. It was the one and only Peter Burke. A smile formed on his friend's lips.

He wanted to say something, but everything was swaying in his head. Must be all the morphine. A headache accompanied his thoughts, as it pounded away. He wanted to bring his hands toward his head, but then some sort of metal clanked noisily. His eyes groped for the source of noise and rested on handcuffs. His bandaged wrists were restrained. They're treating me like a criminal. The small voice in his head kept echoing, haunting him.

"Are they really necessary?" Those were the first words that escaped his lips. They sounded hoarse, and dried out.

Peter was confused for a moment before he caught on.

"I'm sorry Neal. The marshals were here. According to the Crime Division unit, you've nicked priceless Nazi treasure and have lied about it for far too long."

An awkward silence ensued. Neal closed his eyes again, willing everything to evaporate in front of him. He didn't mean to lie about the treasure. But one thing was for sure: He did not steal the Nazi plunder. He enjoyed his freedom far too much to be blamed for Mozzie's wrongdoings. He had established a home for himself, had established a close relationship with Peter... or at least he had. As loyal as he was to his friends, he was not going to be blamed for a crime he did not commit. What hurt though, was that Peter hadn't realized how much he cared. He was no longer the same con artist that Peter had caught. He was different. And he deserved to be heard.

"No Peter." His voice was raspy, weak from not having used his vocal chords for so long.

"What Neal? They've paged Dr. Ross. He'll be here any second to fill you in on your condition."

"Where's Mozz?" Neal croaked.

Peter felt a rush of anger creep toward him. They had tried to contact him but they didn't know where to look. It was as if he had vanished into thin air. He hadn't even been there for Neal when he needed him the most.

"He's gone. Now, I don't know what kind of plan you both cooked up, but Goddamn it Neal you better start talking, before the Marshals haul you back to prison. This time there will be no deals. And I won't be able to stop them." Peter's voice cleared as he finished speaking. Neal needed to know that he was in a very delicate situation. For starters, he was handcuffed to the bed. It was a blatant sign that he was being treated as a criminal, and that did not bode well on his part.

"The fact that he isn't here. And that the treasure isn't here. Can't you put two and two together? I didn't run off with him Peter. I stayed."

"I know that Neal. But your word is not enough. We need evidence." Peter's voice was soft now as he spoke to the man that had saved his wife's life. He owed him everything. Yet he couldn't stir away from the law. He was a man of principle, he was a man that worked in favour of the law. He couldn't just take Neal's word for it and bury the allegations away. As much as he wanted to... he couldn't. He let out a frustrated sight as Dr. Ross walked in.

"Mr. Caffrey, welcome back." Dr. Ross smiled kindly as he checked his chart and began filling Neal in.

"I don't want Peter in for this. Can you leave?" Neal's words shook slightly, as the pain began to take effect again. The throbbing sensation grew, cutting through his sedative state. He couldn't handle Peter now. He needed some privacy.

Peter looked astounded, then grumbled an ok as he glanced at the Doctor nervously and walked off.

Dr. Ross began to list Neal's injuries and explain the recovery process yet Neal blanked out. He didn't want to hear his words. All he thought about was Kate and his mother. The sense of peace he had felt in his dreams... he did not know such calmness existed. All the pain and hurt he had caused and was responsible for couldn't reach him there. Nothing could. His mother had been so serene... so happy. Yes that was the word. Nothing real could get to any of them. The state that he felt he was in, as if he had been floating, giddy, yet without any particular emotion in mind. He wasn't a hundred percent sure what that dream meant, but something deep down in his bones told him what he had experienced was more than a dream.

"When I was unconscious..." Neal hesitated as he interrupted Dr. Ross.

"Yes?"

"I had a dream. At least it felt like a dream, yet I'm not sure. I had a conversation with my dead girlfriend and mother." As soon as Neal spoke those words he could feel his cheeks flushing. All of a sudden he felt awkward and stupid.

"That is um.." Dr. Ross cleared his throat. "You were in a comatose state Mr. Caffrey. Your mind must have conjured up your loved ones as a reassurance. I cannot understand dreams myself, no one can really, but it must have been a healing process for you."

"This wasn't when I was in a coma." Realizing how ridiculous it all sounded, he dismissed his assumptions. "It's nothing" He said quickly. "Sorry, you can continue."

"Agent Burke" Diana called out. Her boss seemed a million miles away. He looked up, dazed and confused for a second, before he came in control again.

"Yes?"

"You've got mail." She flashed a package in front of him and grinned slightly. She left it on his desk and marched off. He really did need a vacation. Now that Caffrey was awake, the light mood had been restored in the office. Once again she had the energy to smile at her passing colleagues. Although she knew it was far from over. Neal was facing very serious allegations and a likely life sentence in prison. Yet, he was alive and recovering. For now, that was enough for her.

Peter stared at the unknown address. A sudden urge to rip open the package engulfed him but he managed to control himself.

A letter awaited him. And beneath that... Peter's hands began to tremble.

It was priceless. And so exquisite. The dragonfly necklace gleamed at him. It was made up of long rows of glassy beads, sparkling rhinestones, and a large ornamental pendant in the shape of a dragonfly. It was stunningly beautiful. The history behind it was even more enriching. It had belonged to the late Olga Tschechowa, a German actress who had caught the eyes of Adolf Hitler. He had given it to her as a token of his admiration. Olga had paraded around in it during his dinner parties, dazzling with rich diamonds as she had entertained his guests. She had even starred in a movie with it, twinkling on her neck as she resumed the role of the heroine Peter's heart was racing. This could only mean one thing.

He reached out for the letter. It was addressed to him as Mr. Suit. Peter couldn't help grinning. Of course it had been Mozzie all along. The letter read:

"Mr. Suit. You underwent a multitude of unfortunate circumstances, none of which I am able or willing to repeat in such a public setting. As my apology, I have generously conjured up the lovely Tschechowa dragonfly necklace. I know very well what this means. The Suits have been fooled. What can I say? Time heals what reason cannot. I end with my wise saying, "Truth is the first chapter in the book of wisdom." Auf Wiedersehen.

Neal Caffrey was innocent. And in his hands he had the evidence to prove it. A rush of relief left him feeling breathless. He stared down at the office and a small smile formed on his lips. He knew all along. Deep down, he knew the young man wouldn't deceive him like that. He had been so angry when Elizabeth had been taken... he had needed to blame someone and Neal was the first person he jumped at and accused. Peter had never felt so ashamed in his life. Jumping to conclusions before figuring out the whole picture only held disastrous consequences. He shook his head slightly as he dialed the Marshals. They had no choice but to let the allegations drop. And as for Mozzie... he had a strong feeling they were never going to catch him. The only thing that nagged at him was that Mozzie seemed oblivious to what had happened to Neal. Maybe the news had never reached him? Peter brushed his maze of thoughts away as he began explaining the situation to the Marshals. Neal Caffrey could finally return to some sense of normalcy.

Or so Peter thinks?