Kind of a long one, but everything I promised is in here, for the most part, as well as a bit of a twist at the end!
Enjoy! (Any mistakes are mine, I still don't own White Collar)
Chapter 12
The Waiting Game
After hugging El, Peter shuffled into the closet and practically threw his clothes on. His excitement was shown in his newfound energy and El took notice.
"Hon, it's still early, just try not to get too excited," she said, not wanting Peter to get overly-excited and then have his hopes crushed.
However, Peter didn't seem to hear her. He replied, "C'mon hon, let's go! We'll get breakfast at the hospital. I'll meet you downstairs, I'm going to call Mozzie and June."
El sighed and continued to dry her hair. She too, was excited, but she knew it had only been a day since the doctors were unsure on whether Neal would survive, therefore it was too early to be completely relieved.
She finished changing and walked downstairs. Peter was just getting off the phone with Mozzie.
"Alright, yeah, I'll see you there." He said almost cheerfully.
He hung up the phone and turned to his wife, greeting her with a smile.
"Ready?" He asked.
"Yep, let's go."
The ride to the hospital was mostly uneventful. Peter told El that both Mozzie and June would be joining them later in the day; he had woken both of them with his phone call, however each was just as excited as him. Finally they arrived and pulled into the nearest spot. It took all of Peter's willpower not to sprint into the hospital and into Neal's room. Instead, he walked next to his wife with anxiousness powerful enough to bring down the building.
When he reached the front desk Peter asked, "We're here for Neal Caffrey. Dr. Layton called us."
"Oh yes," replied the nurse behind the counter. "Take a seat and she'll be right with you."
Great, more waiting.
Luckily, the morning was slow, and Dr. Layton walked through the door a few minutes after they sat down. She looked at them and smiled, saying, "Come with me, please."
Peter and El followed behind her. Peter was about to ask about Neal's condition but Dr. Layton beat him to it. She said, "His vitals are stable as of now. There are no complications in his head so far and swelling is to a minimum. Hopefully, if all goes well, he'll be waking up soon. But be mindful, it will be several days before he is able to stay awake and seem back to normal."
Peter and El both sighed in relief. Peter then asked, "So can we see him?"
"Yes, of course. It's just down the hall." Dr. Layton replied. "Like I said before, I think people being around him really helps. I know that is unconventional thinking, but I'm a firm believer of it. I was truly unsure if he would make it through surgery, but his vitals never faltered throughout the whole procedure."
Peter felt El squeeze his hand. He looked at her and gave her a small smile. They were both happy to hear that they could be with Neal and play a part in his healing process, supposedly. Whether it was true or not, they both took comfort in the idea.
They reached Neal's room, but before going in, Dr. Layton paused and faced them. Her face turned serious, and she said, "I know I told you he is doing well, but I should warn you, he doesn't look good. All of the stress, lack of sleep, and injuries really took a toll on him, so he may look very bad to you, especially compared to how you are used to seeing him."
Peter frowned. He hadn't thought about how Neal would look after a day. He was used to Neal being perfectly groomed and gleaming, so this was bound to be a shock. He pictured him in the ambulance, so pale and battered, and wondered how his injuries looked now. Dr. Layton then opened the door, and Peter stepped in in front of El.
The room was slightly dimmed, but Peter could still make out Neal's features. He walked over cautiously and took a seat next to the bed Neal was in. He took a deep breath before lifting his eyes to look over Neal's body. He clenched his jaw as he looked at Neal's face. He was still so pale, almost blending in with the white linen on the bed. His normally groomed face had two-day old stubble peeking out and his hair was a mess. The bruising above his eye was a deep purple that faded down around his eye socket. His eyes looked sunken in, which was exemplified by the dark circles beneath them. Peter was glad the wound on his head was wrapped so he couldn't see it. But still, Neal looked so fragile and broken lying there. Peter felt a pang in his chest. Seeing Neal in this state was not something he could get used to, or wanted to get used to. He looked down at his hand, which was heavily bandaged, and frowned. Even if Neal did get better, they still didn't know if his hand would be okay. He noticed Neal's left wrist was bandaged as well, obviously from the wire cuts.
El stood behind Peter and put her hands on his shoulders. She could sense his discomfort and said, "He's alive hon, that's something to be thankful for." Peter just nodded slightly.
"Also, he is breathing on his own." Dr. Layton said from the door.
Peter hadn't noticed Neal wasn't hooked up to a ventilator, especially since he had so many other things hooked up to him, but he was thankful that Neal didn't have to rely on a machine to breath.
Dr. Layton continued, "You guys can stay as long as you like. Just make sure any visitors check in with the front desk." She closed the door quietly and left Peter and El in silence, besides the beeping from the heart monitor.
El decided that she should give Peter a few moments alone, so she said, "I'm gonna go grab some breakfast, and I'll bring you something back." She took a step toward Neal, leaned down, and kissed him on the forehead. He looks so young was all she could think as she walked away. Neal's usual confidence and outfits made him seem older, but seeing him vulnerable like this reminded El that he was really still just a kid. She couldn't help but feel like a worried mother. She left quietly and closed the door, leaving Peter alone with Neal.
Peter hadn't really been listening to El when she left, he was too deep in thought. The guilt that had begun to fade when he learned Neal was okay was starting to resurface. Looking at him in this condition made Peter feel sick. I'm responsible for this. He wouldn't be lying here if it weren't for me. He reached out his hand and put it over Neal's. He was relieved when it felt warm instead of frigid like before.
Hesitantly, he began, "Hey, buddy…" but looked back down at his hand. It felt awkward talking to Neal when he couldn't respond. But Peter remembered what Dr. Layton said about the "positive healing effect" that his presence could have, so he continued, "Listen, Neal, I'm here and so is El. Mozzie and June are coming too. We've all been real worried about you…it was touch and go there for a while…" He took a shaky breath, suddenly flashing back to Neal going into cardiac arrest on the docks. "…but…you pulled through, Neal. I'll be here waiting for you to wake up again. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I've actually missed your unnecessary comments and sarcastic remarks. The car isn't the same without you next to me." He felt himself smile slightly, imagining all the times he and Neal had argued about something in the car, and how Neal would end it by saying something witty, which would only anger Peter further. However, that had become part of Peter's routine, and he had gotten to like Neal's conversations with him, even if some of the things he said irritated him a little. Peter patted Neal's hand and leaned back in his chair. He figured he would be there for a while, so he might as well attempt to get comfortable.
Over the next several hours, Peter and El remained by Neal's bedside, sharing various stories about him. El's favorite was the one where Neal came over in the morning, just a day after he became Peter's consultant, and Peter received a call that he was out of his radius. Peter ran downstairs telling El that Neal had run, only to find Neal on the couch, talking to his wife. El laughed at the recollection.
A few hours after they got there, Mozzie came by. Now that he knew Neal was going to be okay, he decided not to stay long, due to his irrational fear of hospitals.
"Really, Mozzie? You're not going to stay?" Peter asked.
"There's no need for me. The longer I stay here, the more x-ray radiation and chemical waste I'm being exposed to, and not to mention the government is probably tracing my brain waves by this point." He replied.
Peter and El both scoffed and rolled their eyes at him.
"Hey, I came didn't I?" He said defensively. "Just call me if anything changes or if he wakes up." Mozzie said before he strolled away.
It was past noon, and still nothing had changed, which wasn't unexpected. On a few occasions nurses came in to check his vitals and alter what was in his IV. One informed them that Neal was completely weaned off the drugs that would keep him in a coma, and therefore, it was up to him when he would wake up. She also reminded them that Neal was still on a lot of medication, mostly for pain and possible infection, and those would cause him to be seriously disoriented when he woke up. Therefore, they shouldn't be surprised if he seems confused or loopy when he wakes. El and Peter both nodded at her comments.
A knock at the door made both Peter and El jump. Both had become engaged in other things. Peter was reviewing some of the cold case files and El was looking at a magazine for products for her company. They both turned to see June enter, who greeted them with a smile.
"How's he doing?" She asked.
Peter answered, "He still hasn't woken, but his vitals are stable. He could wake up at any time, they say."
"Oh good. Listen, can I have a little time alone with him?" June asked.
El jumped out of her seat and said, "Of course. We need to get lunch anyway." She gave Peter a look that said "Let's go" and he quickly caught on and left with her.
Once she was alone, June sat next to Neal.
"Oh you poor thing." She said sympathetically as she looked at his bruised face and bandaged hand. "I do have something that should cheer you up though." She said as she reached into her purse. She pulled out one of Neal's favorite hats and held it up as she looked it over. "I've always liked this one. It looked great on Byron, but it looks even better on you." She smiled and hung the hat next to his IV bag. "I can't wait to see you all dressed up again. I've missed you the past two days." She took his hand in both of hers and fell silent. Seeing Neal like this was hard for her, and she hated to imagine the pain that he was in. However, she didn't let it show, and she said to him, "Now you get yourself all better. Our house just isn't the same without you in it." She smiled at him, although she knew he couldn't see her. "I'll come by when you wake up, sweetie." She said as she kissed his hand. She got up and walked out the door, seeing Peter and El approaching from the left hallway.
"I'll be back when he wakes up." June said.
"Okay, you are welcome to stay." El replied.
"Oh yes, I know. Once he's up and talking again you'll have to force me out, so I figured I'll give you guys and him some space for now." She said with a laugh. She gave them both a hug and walked down the hall and through the doors to the waiting room.
El and Peter both walked back into Neal's room. It was past 3:00pm, and the waiting was wearing on them. El knew that Peter wasn't going to leave, especially since Hughes had told him not to come in the next few days, so she said, "Hon, I'm going to get home to make sure Satch is okay. I'll feed him and then I'll be back in a few hours. Is that alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, are you sure? We can call a neighbor to take care of him." Peter replied.
"No it's alright. I need to get out of here for a little bit. No offense Neal, but you're pretty boring for once." She said with a sly smile toward Neal.
"Oh just wait until he hears that one." Peter said, shaking his head but smiling at her.
El left and left Peter alone again in the dimly lit room. He started to look over the case file but found it hard to focus because the sun was starting to disappear into the November night. Despite wanting to stay awake, he felt himself slip into sleep in the uncomfortable chair.
Something made Peter wake. He thought he heard something, but he looked around and saw nothing, just Neal in the same position as before. He shook his head and tried to wipe the tiredness from his eyes. He pulled out the case file again, but stopped when he noticed that the steady rhythm of Neal's breathing had changed. He looked at him, seeing that his breaths were sharper and shorter, and he also noticed his eyelids starting to flicker.
"Neal? Neal can you hear me?" Peter asked, leaning toward him.
Neal didn't respond.
"Hey buddy, are you there?"
Neal still didn't answer, but Peter could see him move his head slightly.
Peter grabbed Neal's hand, and right when he did, he saw Neal's eyes blink partially open. He was squinting, but Peter could see Neal's bright blue eyes beneath his dark eyelashes.
"Neal, it's Peter. We are at the hospital."
Neal's eyes opened a little more, a look of confusion on his face. But after a few seconds he seemed to understand. He tried to speak, but his throat was too dry to allow any words to come out.
"Hey, don't try to talk. I'll get a nurse in here." He said as he pushed the call button. He felt Neal increase his grip on Peter's hand, which he figured was Neal's way of reassuring him that he understood.
Almost immediately, a nurse walked in the door. "Everything okay?" She asked Peter.
"He's awake!" He said, pointing at Neal, who was sleepily looking at him.
She walked over to his bedside and looked at his vitals. "Heart rate is elevated, but that is expected." She flashed a light in Neal's eyes. "Pupils equally responsive." She put the small flashlight away and looked at Neal. "Neal, I know your throat is probably very dry, so don't try to talk. We'll get you some ice chips once you are more awake. But I need to know, are you in pain? Blink once for yes, two for no." Neal blinked once. Peter frowned to learn that Neal was hurting. "Okay, I'll increase the flow on your IV, you'll feel better in a few minutes." She twisted a nob on the IV line. Peter saw Neal's eyes close after a few seconds.
"This will make him sleep for a while more. I know you are eager to talk with him, but we need to let him heal as much as possible. Each time he wakes will be for longer, I promise." She said to Peter.
"Thank you, I'm glad to hear that." He said back.
"Also, Dr. Layton told me to get you checked out. I think we've all noticed that bruise on your head. Come with me and you can come back here as soon as we're done."
Reluctantly, Peter went with her. He had forgotten how much his head was hurting, mostly thanks to the aspirin, but the pain and lightheadedness was returning, so he figured he should get checked out.
After he returned, he sat back down, conflicted about what had happened. He was happy that he got to see Neal awake, but disappointed that he couldn't talk to him. He was also disappointed to hear that he had a concussion himself, however only a slight one. He leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath.
More waiting it is.
He felt like he was floating. Where he was, he didn't know, but all he knew was that wherever he was he was floating. He was in the abyss of darkness with only the company of his mind. However, rational thought began to creep back into his mind and suddenly he was aware of dull pain radiating throughout his entire body. What happened? He realized his eyes must be closed, hence the darkness, so he tried to open them, but to no avail. He then realized the scratchy, dry sensation lurking in the back of his throat, which he attempted to clear, but only mustered a raspy cough. Then suddenly, there was a voice muffled through the darkness.
"…there? Can you hear me?"
Something about it was so familiar. It was comforting to hear.
"C'mon buddy, wake up!"
Buddy? Oh, Peter! Neal forced his eyes open, only to be blinded by the light above him, despite how dim it was. He squinted painfully around the room, turning his head to the left, where he located Peter. Upon seeing him, Neal felt his heart feel full and it began to beat harder in his chest.
"Hey Neal, welcome back." Peter said, smiling at him.
Neal was going to say, "Didn't realize I left" but the dryness in his throat didn't allow any words, and all that came out was the same raspy cough.
"Dry throat?" Peter asked.
Neal nodded, and felt relieved when Peter got a nurse who brought him a cup of ice chips.
"Hi Neal, can you hear me?"
He nodded. Why is everyone asking that?
"Great. Now we are going to take this slow." He felt himself being pushed more upright as she adjusted his bed. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook him and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for it to pass. "Are you alright?" He nodded again, not wanting to go back to sleep with his dry throat. She held up a spoon with a small amount of ice, which he gladly took. The coolness on his tongue was heavenly, and soothed his sore throat. She repeated this several times, each time feeling better than the previous one.
He looked over at Peter, who was standing a few feet behind her. Neal smiled at him, although that smile was nothing compared to the Neal Caffrey beaming con-man smile, but he figured it was better than nothing.
The nurse left the cup on the tray in front of Neal and said, "If you need anything, I'm just down the hall." She left Peter and Neal alone.
Peter walked over to Neal and sat next to the bed.
"H-Hi…" Neal began, and felt himself stifle a cough. He noticed outside the windows was completely dark.
"Hey Neal." Peter replied, placing his hand over Neal's. "How you feeling?"
"Like…crap." Neal admitted, closing his eyes again and leaning back against the pillow.
"If you're in pain, I can get the nurse." Peter said, concerned.
"No…no, not yet. I…" He cleared his throat again. "I don't want to sleep yet."
He sounded like a pouty child who didn't want to go to bed at bedtime. Peter understood that it must be hard for him, though. Being forced to let your body heal and take it easy was hard for anyone, especially for someone who is always up and about like Neal.
Neal continued, "Wha' happened? After cabin?"
"Listen, I'll tell you all about it later. The important thing is that we found you and got you here safe and sound, and you are going to be okay." Peter did his best to smile at him. Neal still looked so pale and ragged.
"I knew you'd fin' me." Neal said.
"I always do." Peter replied. Neal laughed slightly, wincing at the sudden movement in his ribs.
Just then, El walked in. She stopped immediately and smiled at both of them. "Neal! You're awake."
"So I've been told." He replied, giving a small smile back.
"He's using sarcasm to mask the pain. I'm getting a nurse, hon. You stay with him." Peter said, then left.
El walked over and took Peter's seat next to Neal's bed. She enveloped her hands in his left, and stared into the sleepy blue eyes looking up at her.
"I'm so glad you're okay…well, sort of okay." She said.
"Yea' but…" He drifted off, his eyes looking down toward his chest where his hand was lain across.
"But what?"
"My…hand…"
"Oh sweetie, that is the least of your worries right now. We didn't know if you'd…make it through the night, but here you are, alive and talking to me. If miracles like that can happen, I wouldn't worry about your hand." She said, stroking his other hand.
"'kay." Came the tired reply.
"I know you're tired. It's getting late anyway so you should sleep."
"Wil' you stay?" He asked, eyes closed.
"We aren't going anywhere, Neal." She replied, still rubbing his hand.
Peter returned with the nurse and she gave Neal more pain medication. His breathing evened out and his heart rate slowed as he fell into a deep sleep. They knew he would be asleep for a while, so El forced Peter to leave for a little bit to call June and Mozzie, and attempt to eat some of the bland hospital food in the cafeteria.
A few hours later, after Peter had updated Mozzie and June (who both would come by first thing in the morning the next day), El and Peter had fallen asleep in Neal's room. The nurse had brought in a small cot, which Peter gave to El, and he decided to stay in the chair, despite how uncomfortable it was. However, being near Neal was comforting, and that was enough to make him stay. It was well past midnight, and Peter was thankful for the sleep that came over him.
Neal woke up to find himself in an all too familiar place. The concrete ground, the wooden walls, the front door, the man—Wesley. Wait, why am I here? Oh my God, Peter never found me. It was all a dream.
"It's about time you woke up." Came the high, raspy, all around disgusting voice. Neal felt his blood run cold. "You almost missed the fun!" As he said that, he went behind Neal and dragged a semi-conscious Peter with him and dropped him at Neal's feet.
"Oh my God, Peter! What did you do to him?!" Neal yelled. He looked at Peter, who was bloodied and beaten, hands cuffed behind his back.
"I was going to kill him right away, but once I got him out there I couldn't resist. I wanted to cause him just as much pain as he caused me."
"You're sick."
"You're right." Wesley replied as he raised the gun at Peter's head.
"Wait, no!" Neal screamed. He looked into Peter's eyes, which were tired and hopeless. All the light that used to sparkle in the deep brown center had vanished and was replaced with defeat. Peter dropped his head, giving up. Seeing Peter like that was torture enough for Neal. Peter Burked never gives up, and here he was accepting his murder.
Wesley pulled the trigger, and before Neal could cry out, the wooden walls and the concrete floor and Peter's bloody figure disappeared, and out of the darkness appeared white walls and white sheets and a lot of worried faces.
"Neal, hey Neal, are you with us?" A nurse said as she flashed a light in his eyes.
Except Neal didn't hear her. All he could see in his mind was Peter, lifeless in front of him, with Wesley standing over him, smirking with the gun out in front of him.
"No! Peter! No!" he yelled. He could feel his body tighten. He didn't know if his eyes were closed or not, or what was real or a dream, but the gut-wrenching idea that Peter was murdered in front of him rendered his rationality obsolete.
"He's non-responsive. Get the doctor, now!" a voice to his left said.
"Peter! Pe—" he couldn't finish. He felt like his muscles were wound up with a crank, tightening them beyond any possibility, and he faded into blackness, unaware of anything around him.
"He's seizing! 100 milligrams of Carbamazepine stat!"
A few seconds ago, Peter and El were sleeping peacefully, but now, they were backed into the corner watching an entire team of nurses try to pull Neal from his episode. First, Neal's heart monitor had gone off, indicating that his heart rate had gone up significantly. Second, Peter woke up to see Neal, shifting his head back and forth restlessly with an expression of worry and stress written on his face, as well as a thin sheen of sweat. Third, Peter put his hand on Neal's forehead to try to relax him, and pulled back immediately when he felt the burning heat radiating from Neal's skin. Fourth, Neal started thrashing violently, and Peter yelled at every nurse in the hall to get in there. And now, here he was, watching his friend seizing in front of him, and there was nothing he could do about it.
"He was fine a few hours ago, how could this happen?" Peter asked El, his voice strained and his eyes still locked on the commotion in front of him.
"Honey, try to relax, they will take care of him." She replied, trying to be comforting but not able to hide the shakiness in her voice.
A nurse then approached them and told them they needed to wait outside.
"But—but what's happening? Please." Peter didn't mask the desperation in his voice.
"The doctor will explain everything, just let us do our job right now." She replied tensely and walked back toward Neal, who was no longer seizing, but his body was rigid and his breathing labored. The nurses were still frantically working around him.
The door shut and Peter and El were left in the hallway alone. They could hear the doctors and nurses giving orders and shifting things around. Peter felt weak. It was 4 in the morning and the exhaustion Peter was facing did not go well with the sudden onset of worry and fear. He leaned against the wall and let himself slide to the floor, resting his forehead on his right knee. El sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Hon, it's going to be okay." El said, unsure of what else she could possibly say.
"I just…I can't…" Peter exhaled. "I can't lose him again, El." He wiped the tears that were trying to fall from his eyes.
"You won't lose him. He's strong, remember? He would never leave you."
"Yeah, I gue—" but before Peter could finish, the door to Neal's room swung open and a parade of nurses came out, pushing Neal's bed into the hall.
"What…what's happening?" Peter asked frantically when he caught sight of the on-duty doctor.
"Take him to OR Room 2!" He yelled before looking at Peter, his eyes filled with anxiousness.
"He developed an infection which led to a serious fever. That, along with the bleeding between the brain and his skull, led to a seizure…which has been known to happen to people with traumatic head injuries. We are taking him to surgery to relieve the pressure that developed again. Dr. Layton has been called. I'm sorry, but I need to go." He said quickly as he jogged after the nurses toward the OR.
Peter was standing, but he felt like he could collapse at any moment. El grabbed his arm and they both took a seat in the hallway. They both were speechless, unable to comprehend what had occurred in front of them.
He was fine a minute ago, but now he's anything but fine. Peter's thoughts were racing.
God, Neal. Please be okay.
I planned on ending it in this chapter but it got too long so it looks like we will have another! I'm sorry, but after all Neal went through, did you really think it would be all fine and dandy after a day? I feel bad about how I play with Peter's emotions, but it helps show how much Neal means to him. Mozzie and June will be back, and then they can all form a circle of worry…yay! Sorry this took a week to post!
Review! :)
