Chapter 25

Neal Caffrey was by all standards an optimistic person, a glass half-full kinda guy. Over his long years of conning, he had considered that personality trait an absolute must. The smile he had plastered on his face all those years had become, for better or for worse, a permanent part of his persona and even now, years after he'd retired from his conman days, that positive outlook on life remained.

He lay in a bed in the intensive care unit of Bellevue Hospital and reminded himself of that very fact, although at the moment he was finding it very difficult to look on the bright side of things.

He'd noticed Sara sitting nearby, looking weary, pretending to be interested in a magazine (a gardening magazine of all things, probably the only thing that had been laying about) and he quickly closed his eyes again, returning to his 'pretend' nap. He didn't feel like talking – even to Sara – he just wanted to lie there and lick his wounds in peace.

He thought of June and the strange dream he'd had as she glided with him around the hospital operating room. She'd felt so real as he'd watched her float away one last time. He suddenly felt a jabbing pain in his abdomen and winced, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a moan, and Sara was on her feet again, hovering over him.

He resisted the urge to open his eyes and Sara finally retreated after a few seconds but not before placing a soft kiss on his forehead. That almost got to him and he just about gave in and opened his eyes but he managed to hold fast, his eyes shut tight as he felt tears form under his closed lids; he hoped she hadn't noticed and sure enough, he finally heard her move away and return to the nearby chair.

'Temporary paralysis' Dr. Miller had said when she'd come by earlier.

Neal thought back to the less than satisfactory exchange between them.

'How long will this last?' he'd asked, his voice sounding a little too desperate for his taste.

'Impossible to say' she'd answered. 'Your body will heal in its own good time. The younger the body, the faster the healing...'

That was a jab if ever there was one, Neal thought. He hated everything about aging; sure there was the whole vanity thing, the crows feet, the greying temples but more than that were all the little tell-tale signs: the creak in his knees when he jogged, the tightness in his back after shovelling, the crick in his neck when he'd attempted that oh-so-pleasant little manoeuvre in bed a week ago. Those were the real signs of aging and he realized that even the great Neal Caffrey wasn't immune to such mundane things.

His mind returned to June. He'd heard Sara talking with someone earlier about the funeral being postponed until he was well enough to attend. He was glad of that but he'd begun to wonder when he'd be well enough to be mobile. Maybe he'd be walking in a week or so. A guy could hope. Regardless, he had the very important job of giving the eulogy and he didn't want to let anybody down, least of all June who would likely be presiding over the proceedings – her presence always near those she loved.

'Temporary paralysis' he kept repeating to himself.

Shit, that could be hours, days, weeks or even months. He had a life to live, a gallery to run, children to raise, a wife to make love to – he didn't have the luxury of months before he got back to his life. Despite his attempt at subterfuge, he let out a loud sigh accompanied by a small whimper and Sara was back at his side once again, hovering.

'Neal?' he heard her say.

She knew him too well for him to keep deceiving her and he reluctantly opened his eyes, immediately spotting the look of concern in her eyes.

'I'm okay' he answered.

'Do you need more pain medication?'

'Huh, considering I can't feel my legs...' he began, trying to keep things light.

'Neal, stop it. This is no time for jokes' Sara answered, an edge of impatience to her voice.

She knew her husband's propensity for making light of things using humour; she was definitely not in the mood for his usual deflections.

'For your abdomen' she said as she placed her hand softly on his stomach.

Despite his best efforts to remain impassive, he grimaced again and she pulled back immediately.

'I'm sorry' she said, wincing in sympathy.

'Maybe I am due for another dose' he relented.

'I'll get Patsy' she said, rising to leave. 'While you were asleep, she told me they'd be moving you up to one of the regular floors anytime now.'

'Oh yeah?' he said, pretending he hadn't already heard every single word that had been said while he pretended to sleep.

'I'll be right back' Sara said as she smiled and kissed him softly on the lips.

Neal watched as she turned to walk away: he hated 'compassionate' Sara, he wanted her to be her normal, acerbic, prickly self.

That, he knew how to deal with.

WCWCWC

'Are you sure this is a good idea?' Cameron asked as they sat having coffee in the Caffrey kitchen.

'Cam, I've got to face it sooner or later...' Hope said, a faraway look in her eyes.

'I'm thinking later might be better' Cam replied.

'No! I want to do this. I feel so useless knowing my dad is lying in a hospital bed; it's the least I can do to help make things right. Anyway, we can't visit him until they move him to a regular room so I might as well do something while we're waiting.'

They were discussing meeting up with Peter at the gallery and making a start of getting the mess cleaned up. Cameron had enlisted a bunch of his classmates, many of them who'd been in Mr. Caffrey's French Impressionism class, to start the massive clean-up of the gallery. He knew his girlfriend pretty well and, just like her mom, she was a very stubborn young woman. If she said she wanted to be there, he would have a hell of a time trying to get her to change her mind. He'd been learning how to deal with Hope's fiery temperament by observing Neal interacting with Sara over the past year and a bit. One of the things he'd learned what that there were certain battles that couldn't be won with the Caffrey women. Neal had commented on several occasions that Hope was just like her mom in that regard and Cam had been paying careful attention over the past few months as he watched Neal manoeuvre around Sara, cajoling her, making her laugh, teasing her... or just backing off when the situation warranted it.

Hope and Cameron had come home from the hospital early in the morning and Cam had stayed over on the hide-a-bed in the family room – mostly out of respect for Neal and Sara. Although Cam and Hope had embarked on a very active sex life, they were still role models for Liam and on the few occasions Cameron Armstrong had slept over, the Caffreys had insisted he sleep downstairs in the family room. He was happy to respect those wishes. Of course, Hope had snuck down to get something to eat at some point during the night and she'd somehow ended up by his side on the hide-a-bed, but technically, they felt they had respected her parents' wishes.

'What are you guys talking about?' came Liam's sleepy voice as he came down the stairs.

'Some of us are going to get started on cleaning up the gallery this afternoon' Cameron answered.

'I want to come and help' Liam said without hesitation.

Hope looked over at Cam with a question mark in her eyes, unsure if that was a good idea.

'Sure' said Cam 'We could use all the help we can get.'

'Eat, though' Liam's big sister admonished. 'You've got to keep your — '

'My sugar levels up' Liam interrupted. 'I know, I know.'

WCWCWC

'Oh, my God! I had no idea it was this bad' Elizabeth said as she stepped into the gallery and took in the mess that had been left behind.

She walked around taking in the broken glass, the torn canvasses, the fractured frames. She let out a gasp as she neared the back room, spotting the pool of blood on the beautiful hard wood floor.

'Cam texted me. He says Hope insisted on coming so we need to get this blood cleaned up before she gets here' Peter said as he carried in the buckets, rags and mop they'd brought from home.

El nodded as she slowly got over the shock. She felt Peter's hand on her back and she looked away from the floor and into his eyes.

'Are you sure you're up to this?' he asked.

'Yes... I want to help. Hope never needs to see this again' El said as she grabbed a bucket and headed for the bathroom at the very back of the gallery.

'Any news from Sara?' Peter called out over the running water.

'They're moving Neal to a regular room sometime today.'

'Good, we'll finally be able to visit. I'm hoping Neal can give me a description of this guy' Peter said as he got to work.

Elizabeth reappeared with a bucket full of soapy water in her hand.

'Don't push him too hard, honey. He's going to be fragile for a while' she warned.

'Neal? Fragile?' Peter said with a look of skepticism. 'He's gonna be angry and frustrated but fragile?'

'You know what I mean.'

'If you want to get Neal Caffrey mad, treat him like an invalid. I learned that a long time ago' Peter said as he began to scrub the bloodied floor.

WCWCWC

'Mr. Caffrey, we're going to lift you onto this gurney. Do you think you can help us by using your arms?' asked the porter as he leaned over Neal.

'Of course I can help you' Neal answered, annoyed at the question.

The two men stood on either side of him, preparing to lift him out of the bed in the ICU using the sheet underneath his less than nimble body. Neal could see Sara lingering nearby and wished she wasn't staring as she was, anxious for the transfer to go off without a hitch.

Within minutes, he found himself in a bright hospital room with the late May sun shining in – west view, he concluded, considering it was almost 6:00. Sara continued to follow close behind, her obvious concern for him driving him absolutely nuts. There was so much to work through and he just wanted a bit of time to himself without her being there, constantly hovering.

'Honey' he said as he prepared to use his silver tongue. 'You look exhausted. Why don't you go home and get some rest; the kids and Peter and El said they'd be coming by tonight.'

'I don't want to leave you' she answered, her eyes warm and loving.

'There's nothing you can do here. Look, I'm not in any immediate danger' he said pointing to the nearby nurses station. 'The nurses are right there, I've got my trusty buzzer' he added, grabbing the nearby contraption and jiggling it playfully.

'But...' Sara began.

'But nothing, Sara. I'll feel a lot better if I know you're getting a good night's sleep' he said, actually smiling although he wasn't quite sure how he was managing it.

Sara looked around the room, unsure. She didn't want to leave his side but she was feeling absolutely done in; still wearing the clothes she'd thrown on in that hotel room in Chicago.

'Please...' he begged. 'Do it for me.'

She let out a long sigh and smiled back at him. Truth was, she could use a shower and finally sleeping in her own bed after almost a week away would be heavenly.

'All right, all right' she reluctantly agreed. 'But I'll be back first thing in the morning and...'

'... call if I need anything, I know' he said, finishing her sentence.

'Everything's going to be okay, honey' she said as she moved in to kiss her husband tenderly.

As much as he wanted to, in that moment, those words were just too hard to believe.