Note from the Phoenix: I was pleasantly surprised to see how much you readers out there enjoy crazy Neal. So I stayed up late to get the next chapter done just for you guys.

For anyone interested in what the title of this chapter means, the Tower card is a card of war, a card where what one thinks is true is proven false, a card that shows the shattering of beliefs...or so I'm told by Wikipedia.

White Collar: Knock on Wood

Chapter Ten: The Tower

Peter paced back and forth in a small conference room. With Neal's erratic behavior he had been taken directly to a specialty hospital that deal with traumatic brain injuries and psychiatric disorders. It had taken a carefully planned crew of police and fire fighters over an hour to safely bring Neal back up onto the bridge. Peter had scarcely been able to breathe as they worked. One wrong move and the rope caught around Neal's ankle could have easily slipped.

At the time it had been difficult for anyone to know if they were attempting a rescue, or a body recovery. It wasn't until Neal was back on the bridge that they were able to confirm that he was still breathing. He had remained unconscious all the way to the hospital. Now Peter was waiting for word on his condition.

"Agent Burke?" Dr. Sandeen asked as he stepped into the conference room.

"Yes."

"Mr. Caffrey has regained consciousness. He was lucky, he did not strike his head on the bridge. The lapse of consciousness was most likely stress induced. Other than some abrasions to the wrists and ankle, and a cut above his eye his physical condition is good."

"Why do I get the feeling that there is bad news coming?"

"Agent Burke, what medication is Mr. Caffrey on for his schizophrenia?"

"Schizophrenia?"

"I have a request in for his medical records, but they take time to be released." Dr. Sandeen explained. "I'd be able to help him a lot faster if you knew his medication list."

"Neal's not on any medications, he doesn't have schizophrenia."

"I strongly disagree. He displays classic symptoms: disorganized thoughts, unusual speech, anxiety, paranoid beliefs, and hallucinations both auditory and visual."

"He was fine yesterday."

"We tested him for illegal drugs and he's clean. About twenty-five percent of schizophrenia suffers can develop sudden on-set psychosis."

"No." Peter shook his head in disbelief. "This doesn't make any sense."

"In any case, Agent Burke, Mr. Caffrey is clearly having a psychotic episode. Since he is incapable of making any decisions for himself I need to know if you have legal authority to make health decision for him."

"I do."

"I need your permission to start treating him with Haldol."

"That's strong stuff."

"He needs strong intervention."

"Can I see him first?"

"If he becomes violent..."

"I take full responsibility." Peter said quickly. "Please."

Dr. Sandeen hesitated, but eventually he nodded. Peter followed the doctor down the long hallways. The came to a nursing station that had a several monitors set up on it. Peter was brought around the desk as the doctor brought a video feed up.

Despite having seen Neal's behavior on the bridge Peter still stared at the screen in shock. Neal was sitting in the corner of a barren room with his knees pulled up to his chest. They had bandaged up his abrasions, stitched up the cut over his eye, and dressed him in a pair of white scrubs that blended in perfectly with the walls and floor. With his palms pressed hard against his ears and his eyes firmly shut Neal rocked back and forth in his new found madness.

"I..I didn't realize that anyone actually used padded rooms in the real world."

"We use physical restraints as a last resort. " The doctor explained. "This gives him as much freedom as possible while keeping him from hurting himself."

"Let me talk to him."

"He won't understand, he probably won't even recognize you at this point."

"I have to try."

Once again the doctor went against his better judgment and agreed. After taking Peter's gun and shoes he lead Peter down to Neal's room. Looking through the small window in the door the doctor unlocked it and stepped to the side. Peter hesitated before entering himself.

"We'll be right outside." Dr. Sandeen said.

"Thank you."

The door closed and locked behind Peter with a ominous click. At first Neal didn't pay any attention to him. Continuing to rock he cried out a few times before suddenly relaxing. Peter took a few steps closer and Neal looked up at him. Neal inspected his visitor suspiciously.

"Peter?" Neal asked warily. "Is that you?"

"That's right."

"And who is that?"

Neal made a motion with his head to indicate someone behind Peter. Figuring that the doctor was looking in through the window Peter looked back. The window was a one way tinted and Peter couldn't see anyone through it. Neal kept his eyes fixed on a point just behind Peter.

"Neal, no one else is here."

"He has white hair, he's watching me. I...I don't like..." Neal stopped and just looked away. "Never mind, he's gone."

Neal leaned his head back and rested it against the wall. His shoulders jerked a few times as though he'd been startled by something, but he remained peaceful. Peter risked moving in closer and sitting down on the floor in front of Neal. Neal reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Peter?"

"Yes?"

"Did I...did I steal a car?"

"You did."

"I'm sorry." Neal brought his eyes level with Peter's. "I remember doing it, but I don't remember why."

"What else do you reme..."

"Do you hear that?" Neal interrupted. "I keep hearing Kate, but I know she's dead."

"Neal..."

"Why won't she leave me alone?" Neal asked suddenly on the edge of tears. "You know I would have saved her if I could."

"I know that." Peter said gently. "Neal I need you to focus for me. I need to know what happened to you between when I left and when you stole the car."

"Damn it, Sparkles, get the hell out of here!" Neal shouted at the imaginary cat.

"Look at me, Neal. Focus. What happened?"

"I...I..." Neal narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember. "I was falling."

"Before that."

"I don't know." Neal whispered. "I can't think over all this noise. Why is it so noisy in here?"

Neal hugged his knees tighter to his chest. He closed his eyes with an expression of pain. Peter gave him a moment to collect himself. Neal rubbed at his ankle with his foot and gasped sharply. Looking down at his legs he grabbed a hold of his bare ankle. Suddenly looking distressed he started hyperventilating.

"Where is it?" Neal asked as he started to cast about for the missing anklet.

"Don't worry about the anklet."

"No, no...no, I can't be without it. It keeps me safe." Neal replied anxiously. "I'll get lost. I have to find it. I don't want to be lost."

"Neal..."

Peter stopped as Neal got on his hands and knees and started searching the floor for the device. Neal was quickly becoming frantic as he scanned his immediate area uselessly. Peter watched him in shock for a moment before putting his hand on Neal's shoulder to try and distract him from the search.

"I have to find it!" Neal cried in panic as he jerked away from Peter's touch. "I don't know where I am...I'm lost, please help me find it..."

The pleading tone in Neal's voice was heart breaking. Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out the small magnetic key before pulling up his pant leg and revealing that he was wearing the anklet himself. He had ridden in the ambulance with Neal and the EMT had asked him to remove it so that they could do an MRI when they reached the hospital. With nowhere safe to leave the expensive device Peter had decided to just wear it.

Peter removed the anklet and offered it to Neal. Neal's face lit up as he smiled brightly and took the offering. He secured the tracker around his ankle. Peter was surprised by how it seemed to relax him. Sitting down again with his back to the wall in the corner Neal looked past Peter at the far wall. A wry smile slipped across Neal's lips.

"I love that painting..." Neal said wistfully as he stared at the blank wall. "Probably why I stole it in the first place. Unfortunately I have to sell it...that F.B.I Agent is getting too close. Agent Burke...he's ruining my life."

Peter stared at Neal, trying to determine if he was serious or not. Part of him expected Neal to laugh and tell Peter he was joking about all of this. However, Neal's expression didn't change. He had gone from sheer panic to tranquil in a matter of seconds. Peter wanted to help, but there didn't seem to be anyway to get through to Neal. He was locked in a world of his own.

"Neal, do you recognize me?" Peter asked.

"Of course." Neal said as he brought his attention back to Peter.

"Who am I?"

"You're the Emperor."

"No, enough of this tarot card nonsense. Neal, it's Peter."

Neal gave Peter a confused look before losing interest in his guest. Peter wasn't sure what to do as Neal started to become agitated again. He looked around the barren room and clearly saw something more than Peter did. Bring his hands back up over his ears again Neal weld his eyes shut and forced his back harder into the corner.

"What do you want?" Neal cried desperately. "Be quiet! Leave me alone!"

"Neal, look at me. There isn't anyone else here."

"Please stop," Neal whimpered "I can't help you...I can't..."

Unable to stand by and watch Neal spiral into panic again Peter reached out and put his hand on Neal's shoulder. Neal jerked back with a yelp. Peter withdrew his hand quickly, but it was too late. Neal had been set off and suddenly had a murderous glint in his eyes that Peter had never seen before.

Quick as a striking snake Neal threw himself at Peter and drove him back to the floor. Neal straddled Peter, pinning him to the floor. He drew his fist back to strike him, however the hospital orderlies were already in the room and grabbed his wrist in time. Snarling with his eyes locked on Peter Neal fought bitterly against the men keeping him from his prey.

"Let me go!" Neal demanded.

The two strong men who had entered just in time hauled Neal off Peter. Lifting Neal off the floor the men tried to control him as he kicked and thrashed. Roaring in frustration and rage Neal strained to get at Peter. Peter got to his feet and backed away. Unable to calm him the men slammed Neal against the soft wall to pin him down.

"I'll kill you, Keller!" Neal screamed passionately as he tried once more to lung at Peter. "I will kill you with my bare hands! You bastard!"

Stunned by the violent turn in events Peter just watched as Dr. Sandeen came in with a hypodermic needle. Trapped against the wall by the orderlies Neal's blood lust turned to terror when he caught sight of the needle. Neal fought to twist out of the men's grasp. When he failed he threw his head back against the wall.

"No! No! Peter, help me! Peter!"

When Peter made no move to stop the doctor tears streaked down Neal's face at the betrayal. He cried out in terror as Sandeen sunk the injection into his arm. The sedative worked quickly to bring Neal down as he visibly relaxed. Gently lowered to the floor Neal laid on his side breathing heavily. He kept his eyes open, but they were completely unfocused.

Peter didn't want to leave, but Sandeen silently insisted and escorted him out. Outside the room Peter took a moment to catch his own breath. Sandeen told him something, but he wasn't listening. Asking to be left alone for a while Peter sat down in the hall and leaned his back against the door of Neal's room.

Exhausted from everything that had happened Peter spent a while sitting on the floor trying to collect his thoughts. He was grateful that the doctor was understanding enough to leave him alone. When he heard footsteps approaching he expected to see Sandeen. However looking up Peter scrambled to his feet when he saw who his visitor was.

"Marshal Garret? What are you doing here?"

"What do you think? I'm here to take Caffrey back into state custody."

"What? No. He needs medical attention."

"And he'll get it, just not here."

"Wait...how did this get set up so fast?"

"The Department of Justice tends to sit up and take notice when one of its wards steals a car, involves himself in a high speed chase, crashes into a historical bridge, and then tries to throw two cops and then himself off said bridge."

"None of that is his fault. Something has happened to him."

"He's not your problem any more, Agent Burke."

"Give him a chance here before you move him to some cut-rate prison ward. I need some time to figure out what's happened."

"This place isn't exactly covered under his health insurance. He's already cost the taxpayers enough with that stunt on the bridge."

Peter tried not to think of how many hundred of thousands of dollars worth of damage and rescue costs Neal had incurred in the short period of time. He looked at the set of cuffs with the belt chain that the Marshal was carrying. Peter could visualize all too well what Neal's reaction to such restraints would be in his current condition.

"Please, Marshal, give me forty-eight hours."

Peter knew he had absolutely no authority in this situation to keep Neal from being transferred to a state facility. On the other side of the coin the Marshal didn't really have the authority to grant Peter more time. The Marshal looked through the small window and down on where Neal was curled up on the floor. He sighed heavily and turned back to Peter.

"I'll give you twenty-four hours, Agent."