"You look better" Peter smiled at Neal as he strode into the room. Sitting up and picking lethargically at the tray of food in front of him the younger man looked so much better than he had just a couple of days ago.

"So I've heard." Neal gave him a smile that looked stiff… forced.

"How are you feeling?" he asked more seriously.

"I'm fine, Peter." Neal looked away as though uncomfortable then brought his eyes back to his friend's face "How are you today?" he asked politely… Neal's manners were always excellent but this… this was far too formal for their friendship.

"I'm much better to." Peter admitted reluctantly "now that I know you're going to be alright." He didn't usually express that much emotion regarding the younger man, but…

"Really?" Neal wouldn't have looked more stunned if his friend had hit him with a two-by-four. "You were… worried about me?'

"Yes, Neal, I was worried about you." He frowned, what kind of game was the kid playing, he knew Peter worried about him often…?

"Oh…" Neal studied the tray for a moment. Peter watched his shoulders shutter slightly as he drew a sharp breath before he looked up. "Thank you." His smile was more sincere now. Then the older man suddenly understood. For the better part of four months, no one cared. They may not have mistreated the consultant, but no one had worried about him either. He had been utterly alone. Neal pushed the tray away and slowly, carefully turned to the side and forced his fragile body out of the bed. Peter had to close his eyes not to push him back down. He knew rationally the young man needed to get up… to move around, but he still seemed so weak. When he opened his eyes Neal was swaying dangerously only three steps from the bed.

"Do you need… help?" he asked awkwardly.

"Maybe."

"Where are you trying to go?"

"The chair…" Neal gasped "by the … window." Peter took a breath to steady himself against the awkwardness of wrapping his arm around the younger man. Then he steadied the trembling frame until he sank wearily in the chair. The Neal smiled and stared out at the roof of the parking garage… or perhaps the sky above it. He slowly reclaimed his breath… and his dignity. "So…" he began "the Section Chief stopped by… to see me yesterday…"

"I'm not surprised he's been by every day."

"He has?" confusion fluttered across his features "Why?"

"To check on you."

"Oh…" Neal let that sink in for several seconds. "You filed a formal complaint… against Kramer?" it shouldn't have been a question.

"Of course I did, Neal, his negligence almost killed you!"

"You are being a bit… dramatic, aren't you, Peter?" Neal's voice was teasing at last, but the fear was still to close in the older man's mind.

"You stopped breathing!" he snapped "The doctor told me it didn't look good! He told me to start… I am not being dramatic when I say he almost killed you."

"Ok…" Neal raised his hands to placate his friend "Alright. You weren't… exaggerating. I get it." he took a shuddering breath "So you filed the complaint because you were… scared?"

"I was scared, Neal." Peter tried to calm his emotions "But… that isn't why I filed. I filed because what happened to you should not have happened… you deserved some kind of justice." The younger man grinned brightly at him, but his eyes were serious.

"Thank you Peter."

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

"I told you to call me if they did anything!" Mozzie scowled at his best friend "You told me you would!"

"But Mozz… they didn't actually-" Neal tried to explain his complete lack of self- preservation.

"I thought we are friends! I stayed away when you asked me because I trusted that you would call if you needed me. You should have called as soon as you saw your budget. It is impossible for anyone to live on that!"

"I was making it work."

"Ramen noodles and canned soup is not making it work. How could you even eat that stuff?" The small man made a face at the very thought.

"You get hungry enough anything tastes good." His tone suggested this wasn't the first time he'd been reduced to such a state. Mozzie stopped to look at the kid with a frown. Neal pulled the blanket closer around his thin frame. The recliner seemed to swallow what was left of him. Still pale, at least the kid's lips looked less grey… as long as he left the oxygen in place.

"Well…" Mozzie sighed "you should have at least called when you were hurt. I could have patched you up… you know I could have. I've done it before."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Not that bad? NOT THAT BAD?!" the small man waved wildly at the room. "Have you looked around? I spent four days watching a machine breath for you and you say it wasn't that bad?!"

"I meant when I got hurt…" Neal said wearily "It was some bruises and a cut… I bandaged it properly and tried to get extra rest…"

"Yeah well you should have stolen some antibiotic ointment with the bandages." Mozzie sighed… "And a tetanus booster..."

"Yeah," The younger man grinned "I didn't see that one coming."

"Of course you didn't." Mozzie rolled his eyes and shook his head, but most of his anger had dissipated. "You know good partners … good friends are hard to come by."

"And I appreciate you being here."

"That's not what I meant." Mozzie glared at the floor. He wasn't good at letting people know how much he cared. He'd spent his life trying not to get attached, but Neal… Neal was different. "I got a call from Mrs. Suit… that her husband said I should be here…It scared me, alright."

"I'm sorry I didn't call."

"Yeah well…" The older man couldn't help the small indulgent smile "Just don't ever let things get this bad again without calling me."

"I'll try."

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

"Hey Caffrey" he startled slightly to find Diana grinning at him as he shuffled out of the bathroom. He was suddenly even more immensely grateful that June had brought him his own pajamas and robe this morning. Despite being exhausted after his shower he returned her smile.

"This is a surprise."

"Well…" she shrugged quickly "I was in town"

He raised an eyebrow at her and sank into the chair by the window allowing the silence to hang between them. "I'm told I owe you my life" he finally said.

"I guess that makes us even." She looked at the floor for a moment "I'm just glad I was there."

"Me too." The cough that followed had her stepping toward him anxiously. He waved her away as he caught his breath. "What were you doing at my apartment?" he asked when he could speak again, his cheeks coloring slightly at the thought of her seeing his pitiful little place.

"I was in town on a temporary assignment and I was going to ask you if you wanted to join me for dinner. Obviously that didn't happen." Her eyes darkened with a memory he wasn't sure he wanted to know about.

"Sorry about that." he shrugged sheepishly "I'll make it up to you the next time you're in town."

"You made it up to me by not dying Caffrey." She glanced at her watch "I should go I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"What brings you back to DC then… besides checking up on me?"

She hesitated and sighed "I have to testify before Kramer's disciplinary review board. They want to know what I found that evening."

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head "I spoke to you on the phone the week before… why didn't you tell us how bad things were?"

"I thought I could handle it."

"Sometimes asking for help is handling it." she snorted derisively "Just a thought Caffrey. There is such a thing as being too independent." She laughed at his stunned look. Neal tried to cover his shock, but that was the last thing he ever expected to come out of Diana's mouth.

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Reese scowled deeply as he approached Peter. His expression was beyond thunderous. Peter's heart sank.

"They denied the transfer?"

"No, not entirely." Reese ran his hand over his face wearily.

"Then what?"

"They are trying to drown him in red tape. We'll get Caffrey back in New York… eventually."

"When?"

"When the disciplinary review is completed, assuming Kramer is found to have been negligent, they will start the transfer paperwork after an inquiry into our office's ability handle him properly."

"So they may still refuse because of me?"

"Not going to happen. After Kramer snatched him away without proper procedure then failed as his handle they want to sweep Caffrey back under the rug. They just aren't going to make it easy for him."

"Of course not." Peter sighed "How long?"

"Two or three more months."

"What are they planning to do to improve his conditions during that time?"

"I am still discussing that with them."

"Well they d*** well better figure it out."

"He will without question be getting a living allowance. The debate is whether it comes out of their budget or from his own legitimate income."

"His income?!" Peter growled "He should have had that any way. They should be compensating him for what they put him through."

"I know. I am on your side on this." Reese sighed and shook his head "But these people don't know Caffrey. They only see him on paper. They don't see Neal as a person they see a PR problem."

"Well make sure they know how big of a problem this could become if they don't take care of him."

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

She turned in a slow circle in the middle of the dark, cramped room. No, June decided firmly, this would not do for her boy. The single bulb in the ceiling barely pushed the shadows back, not nearly enough light for an artist like Neal. The smell from the stained worn carpet wrinkled her nose, a mixture of cigarette smoke, pet waste and mildew that lingered in the air. The paint on the walls was faded and peeling.

She frowned sadly picturing her Neal trying to live in this place for the last few months. She was tempted to simply move him to a better apartment, but that would possibly cause a problem with getting him home, besides he had built a life here. June ran her hand gently over the books she sent with him, now well-worn and arranged neatly on his small table, paused to gaze at the sketches of all his friends taped to his wall.

Moving him wasn't an option. Still something had to be done if he would have to live here another two or three months.

Well, the lighting was easy enough to fix, and the carpet needed the most through cleaning of its life, that paint needed to be taken care of... She would simply have to find the right people…