"Neal, I'm not playing games. Eat your lunch." Neal ignored the tray of food and continued to draw in an angry manner; dark, faceless creations that unnerved Peter. After two days of endless drawings, Peter's mood was starting to match his partner's.

"I'm sorry. Line flushing wasn't taught at Quantico." Peter glanced at his watch, wondering where Elizabeth was. She was supposed to take the class with him because Peter wasn't comfortable with what they were asking him to do.

Neal blamed him for the delay. Two extra days inpatient and Neal was fighting back the only way he knew how, by refusing to eat.

"If you don't eat they will discharge you with the night feeds and it will probably take me days to learn how to connect the bags."

The pencil stopped in mid stroke and Neal eyed the agent. "You wouldn't?"

"Keep pushing and I will." Peter glared back.

"Elizabeth will be here soon and hopefully we'll be out of here before dinner. But only if you start eating."

With an exaggerated sigh, Neal picked up his fork and stabbed the piece of meat. He bit off a minute amount and took his time chewing.

Peter shook his head and walked out.

"Peter, sorry I'm late." Elizabeth rushed over. "How's Neal today?"

"The same as yesterday" Peter muttered evenly with a deep breath. "Trying my patience and I have no patience left to deal with him."

"Calm down." Elizabeth reached up and kissed his cheek. "Let's get his over with and get Neal to the apartment. It will be the best remedy for both of you."

It was late afternoon when they were officially discharged. Most of their stuff was already at the apartment so it didn't take long to pack up the remaining items and put them in the car. Neal had insisted on walking the two blocks to the apartment. He managed to exit the hospital on his own two feet, though it was slow going and Peter wasn't sure he was going to make it.

The rest of the way Peter pushed him in the wheelchair.

"Peter, can we stop?" Halfway there Neal eyed a small pond.

"Neal, Elizabeth is waiting for us. Besides it's a little cold out here."

Neal turned his head and pulled the mask away. "Peter, you have me bundled up, I think I'll be ok. Just for a few minutes."

Peter gave in and quickly called Elizabeth before pushing Neal towards the pond. He settled the wheelchair near a bench.

"I didn't think I'd feel fresh air again" Neal admitted as he savored the cold wind against his face.

"I know." Peter sat on the bench and eyed a family of geese swimming in the pond.

"Neal, you know there's a good chance you'll be readmitted at least once."

Neal shrugged. He knew the drill. As long as he had the central line, any temperature above 100 was an automatic pass back to the hospital.

"Do we have to discuss this now?"

"No." Peter leaned over and tightened the blankets around his partner. "But you do need to be honest with me if you're not feeling well."

"Peter, I heard you and Elizabeth talking. You plan to take my temperature while I'm sleeping because you think I'll rig the oral thermometer."

Peter smiled. "I have no doubt you know how."

"I do" Neal admitted with a shrug. "Doesn't mean I'll do it."

"Good to know." Peter shuddered as he stood. "Let's go. We'll come back tomorrow if it's warmer." He didn't give Neal a chance to protest as he unlocked the wheels and started pushing.

"Neal are you ok?" Peter paced past the closed bathroom door as he listened to his friend's moans.

"I'm fine. Don't come in." Peter removed his hand from the doorknob and continued to pace. Dinner was over and Elizabeth had gone home after overseeing Peter's first line flushing.

The agent had anticipated a quiet evening in the apartment but then the pain had started and Neal had rushed to the bathroom.

Neal moaned louder.

"Neal I'm coming in."

"No."

"Fine" Peter muttered as he walked back to the living room and turned the TV louder, hoping to drown out his partner.

Fifteen minutes later, Neal grew quiet and Peter worried more. He approached the bathroom door.

"Neal, did it pass?"

Silence greeted his question.

"Neal, answer me or I'm coming in."

Still no answer so Peter opened the door. Neal was hunched over with his forehead pressed to his legs, breathing heavily.

"Hey." Peter lowered himself to the floor. "Neal, are you ok?"

"It's passed" Neal whispered between breaths.

Peter stood and grabbed a towel, wetting a corner of it.

"Can you look at me?" Peter knelt down and gently lifted Neal's head. He took the towel and wiped Neal's tear streaked face along with his runny nose.

"How's the pain?"

"A little better" Neal answered as he clutched at his middle. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be ok."

Peter glanced at his watch and it was too soon for another pain pill. "I can give you Tylenol if you want."

Neal shook his head no.

"Come out when you're able." Peter walked out, closing the door behind him.

Twenty minutes later Neal approached the sofa and sat down next to Peter.

He pulled up his legs and leaned over, resting his head against Peter's shoulder.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired." Neal sighed deeply.

"We can call it a night" Peter suggested.

"Can I stay here?" Neal burrowed a little deeper.

"Missing the security of the hospital, aren't you?"

Neal didn't answer. "Neal if anything happens we're less than five minutes away."

Neal grunted a response.

"You can stay here" Peter mumbled as he wrapped his arm around Neal and returned his attention to the TV.

The sun was shining brightly when Peter woke up. The TV was still on and Neal was still glued to him but at some point the ex-con had retrieved a blanket and pillow.

"You are a true enigma" Peter whispered as he gently touched Neal's forehead. "You wanted out so badly yet you're scared to be here."

Neal groaned as he turned and faced upward, with his eyes slowly opening. It took a few minutes for him to get his bearings. A small smile crossed his face.

"I'm guessing we passed over the friendship line again."

Peter shook his head. "We got rid of that line long ago. How are you feeling?"

Neal shrugged. "OK. Can I take a bath?"

Neal had been talking about a real bath for as long as Peter could remember. He couldn't take shower with the central line but a bath was doable as long as they covered his line and he was careful.

Peter nodded as he wriggled free. "Let's get half your pills down now and the rest after your bath." He walked into the kitchen where all the pills were carefully labeled on the table. Twenty-two in all and a few had to be taken twice a day.

Neal trailed after him, grimacing when he saw all the medication.

"I'll make the protein shakes." Elizabeth had bought everything they would need and the shakes were not only healthy but they had a lot of calories, something both of them were in need of.

"Drink up" Peter said as he handed a glass to his partner. Neal had arranged the pills by size and he started with the larger ones, each going down with a sip of the shake. After number 10 he stopped, groaning slightly.

"Are you going to be sick?"

Neal put his head down and willed his stomach to settle; otherwise they would have to start all over again.

"I'm ok" he muttered a few minutes later.

"We'll leave the rest for later." Peter quickly cleaned up.

Good morning El.

First night away from the hospital went ok. Neal never left my side. He won't admit it but he's nervous about being out of the hospital. I am too... I'd rather go after a bad guy then be responsible for someone's health. He got half the pills down and right now he's taking a bath. Singing in the bath I should say.

He took a good look at himself in the mirror today. He hasn't been on a scale but I would guess he's twenty pounds lighter than he was before transplant. I asked Jones to come by and pick up my free weights. I'll ask the doctor first but I think it will be ok for Neal to do a little light lifting.

He wants to start walking also. I think that's a little too much but we'll take the chair with us.

Tomorrow will be our first clinic day. Neal has his infusion and I hear that could take up to eight hours. I'm guessing he'll also need platelets.

If you're free, come by for lunch.

I'll call you later. Neal stopped singing so I'm guessing he's done.

Love ya.

Neal slept peacefully in bed; the bath had worn him out and it didn't take much encouragement from Peter to get him to take a nap. That was five hours ago and Neal was still sleeping.

Peter sat at the desk emailing Diana about a new case his group was pursuing.

Now that they were out of the hospital Peter was paying more attention to what was going on at work; hopeful that he might be back sooner than later.

"Peter?"
The agent turned.

"I don't feel good."

Peter sprang to his feet. He felt Neal's forehead, dismayed that he was warm.

He found the thermometer in the bathroom and stuck it in Neal's mouth.

"99.8" he muttered with a deep sigh. One day out and they were so close to being readmitted.

"Take this." He handed Neal a Tylenol and glass of water. "Hopefully this does the trick." Neal took the pill, refusing to meet Peter's gaze. "Get some more rest, I'll stay with you."

Neal buried himself under the blankets as Peter sat down to keep watch, both hoping the fever didn't go higher.