Note: This chapter was challenging to write, but I really enjoyed it! Thank you all for all your support with this story! And don't worry...it's not anywhere close to being over. ;)
Chapter Forty-seven
Lost in the endless darkness of the stone and cement tunnels of the Labyrinth Neal ran out of a sense of being chased rather than in hopes of reaching any kind of destination. With the true life nightmare that they had been living it was easy for Neal to believe in the vivid dream that he was playing out now. In his desperation to escape the unseen wolf that was nipping at his heels Neal took every turn he came to without the use of logic or any purpose beyond outpacing the feeling of dread that grew to an overwhelming sense of of impending death every time he tried to slow down.
Even in his dream state Neal realized that he couldn't run forever as he started to labor painfully for breath. A claustrophobia inducing tightness in his chest was keeping him from being able to draw in air beyond an ineffective shallow gasp. Still trying to run head long down the tunnel despite the shortness of breath Neal tripped and fell. Rather than striking the stone he went right through the floor which had turned into an inky pool. Thrashing in the blinding water Neal tore uselessly at the viscous liquid in a disorganized battle to reach the surface.
Having held his breath for as long as he was physically able Neal was forced to open up his lungs to the slurry he was fighting. Finding he could actually breath despite his underwater situation didn't help calm Neal's frantic panic. Disoriented he continued to lashed out against the threat of suffocation in the gravity free void that he'd fallen into. Kicking violently he could suddenly hear alarmed shouting. Opening his eyes Neal found himself out of the water but with Jake inches from his face. With the line between reality and dream being blurred by a deadly fever Neal didn't even question how his situation had changed, the only thing he cared about was the fact that it hadn't significantly improved. He was still in danger, the threat had simply changed forms.
With the memory of Jake trying to drown him fresh in his mind Neal bared his teeth and snarled incoherently at his attacker. Still unable to draw a deep breath Neal panted heavily as his heart raced dangerously out of control. Neal tried to bring his hands up to wrap them around Jake's throat but a powerful force was keeping him from his prey. He could move his forearms, but something was stopping him from getting any range with his shoulders which were being force out away from his body, giving him no leverage. Neal wasn't in the state of mind to figure out that the reason he couldn't get to Jake was that Peter had snaked his arms up under his armpits and crossed his arms over Neal's chest so that he could pin him in place. Neal was still able to kick but Jake was so close to his face because he was sitting on his hips to stop him from bucking.
Wild with panic from a series of nightmares and fever induced delirium Neal wasn't even certain that he had actually managed to wake up. Being held down by Jake was totally believable, what defied his sense of reality was why Peter would be helping him. Not even considering that they might be trying to help him in some way Neal fought harder to free himself. Unable to scream Neal was terrified that he was literally nearing the point where he would be fighting with his last breath. His breathing was getting exponentially worse and now he couldn't even exhale more than a small puff, let alone take in fresh air. With the spent air quickly turning rancid in his burning lungs Neal was close to complete respiratory failure.
Several angry voices all seemed to be snarling at one another including one that Neal couldn't identify. In the mists of the confusion and panic Neal could hear Peter's voice but he couldn't understand the words. Peter had been barking at someone before, but now he had lowered his voice and was repeating something over and over to Neal directly. Feeling like his galloping heart was about to fail him Neal poured all of his concentration into listening to Peter and trying to understand.
"Please, Neal," Peter begged desperately "you have to hold still, please, don't move. Trust me, relax it will only hurt for a second. You *have* to hold still."
With the large amount of adrenaline that the situation had dumped into Neal's blood in a last ditch effort to keep him alive holding still was the last thing he thought he was capable of. Every instinct was screaming at him to fight or to at least escape. Trusting Peter's plea Neal swallowed hard and took as deep a breath as he could manage. Neal couldn't relax his tense muscles but he did manage to freeze in place as asked. Whoever it was that wanted Neal to hold still wasted no time in acting as there was a sudden lancing pain that was centered over his lower right ribs and radiated out across his entire midsection.
Neal took a deep breath to scream in protest and pain only to be distracted by the fact that he could take a deep breath. The weight that had been bearing down on his chest had suddenly lifted. Whatever they had done to him had been painful but it had helped his overall condition. No longer needing Neal to hold so still Peter relaxed his grip from around his chest. Jake got off his hips as well adding to comfort. Closing his eyes Neal rested against Peter and focused on drawing fresh air into his lung. The heavy throbbing in his side was a small price to pay for being able to breath again.
"Thank you for trusting me." Peter whispered in weary relief. "The worst is over, just rest."
Neal wasn't certain how the worse could possibly be over, but he had no choice about getting more rest as he passed out. This time Neal fell into a black dreamless sleep that wasn't plagued by nightmares. However when he started to surface back into consciousness an unknown time later he was greeted with a suffocating sourceless heat. Neal tried to sit up to escape the heat, but he couldn't coordinate with his treasonous body, he couldn't even seem to open his eyes. Stuck in the world between sleep and awake Neal tried to call out for help, only to be startled by a reedy moan that he didn't recognize as his own voice.
"Easy, Neal." Peter said softly as he brushed his fingers through Neal's hair.
"Is he awake?" Jake asked.
"No, I don't think so." Peter replied sadly. "Neal, can you hear me?"
'I can hear you.' Neal tried to reply but failed to speak.
"His fever is spiking again." Peter said after pressing what felt like an icy cold hand against Neal's cheek.
"Doc said it might take a week before we saw any improvement, it's only be a few days."
"Don't call that drugged up med school drop out a 'doctor'." Peter growled darkly. "No one serious about medicine would leave a patient down here to die like this."
'I'm not dying.' Neal insisted silently. 'Please, don't give up on me…'
"You didn't think York was going to send someone who wasn't under this thumb when you made that deal, did you?" Jake asked incredulously.
"No." Peter sighed in frustration.
'Deal?' Neal thought in distress. 'Peter, what did you do? Peter…Peter don't do something you can't live with just to save me…please…'
Fighting harder to join the conversation Neal flailed and arched back in a desperate attempt to at least let them know he was listening, but he doubted that any of his actions looked purposeful as he battled with himself. Assuming Neal was about to have a seizure Peter cradled the back of Neal's head in his hand to keep him from injuring himself. Neal finally opened his eyes but he didn't have the power to focus them as he stared up at a blurry gray ceiling. Jake had rushed off into the bathroom to get a cold wet cloth thinking that it might help. Returning with the dripping cloth Jake knelt down and carefully pressed it against Neal's heated forehead. Despite Jake's intentions instead of calming Neal the water dripping into his eyes threw him into a panic as memories of his near drowning at Jake's hand flooded back to him.
A sharp rise in Neal's heart rate seemingly jolted him awake. Sitting up in his own bed back in his apartment Neal was momentarily aware that he must have fallen into a dream again. However the second he swung his legs over the edge of the bed he became lost in the illusion. The apartment was unnaturally dark, not the way that night fall made things dark but more the muted gray dark of a coming storm. Getting to his feet Neal stepped across his apartment with a tight knot twisting in his stomach. Afraid to be alone Neal went searching for Peter.
In the choppy logic that only made sense in a dream Neal wandered through seemingly endless well decorated rooms in his apartment that didn't exist in the real world. Each one held various art and treasures he'd stolen over the years. He even found one room that mimicked the storage locker full of the submarine treasure perfectly. Continuing on his path he eventually ended up on the patio. Neal's heart raced as the clear New York sky had been replaced by a dripping stained concrete that hung a few feet above the tallest skyscraper. Peter was sitting at the small patio table happily enjoying a cup of espresso completely unfazed by the close ceiling that stretched out over the city as far as the eye could see.
"Morning, Neal." Peter greeted with a friendly smile. "Sleep well?"
"Peter, what happened to the sky?"
"The what?" Peter asked confused.
"The sky." Neal pointed up at the slab.
"It's always looked like that." Jake's voice suddenly joined the dream.
"Jake…"
Neal turned around and found Jake was standing directly behind him. Neal tried to back away but Jake followed his every step until he had Neal backed up against the wall that surrounded the patio. Peter didn't seem to mind how Jake was invading Neal's personal space and kept drinking his coffee. Neal put his hands on Jake's chest and tried to push him away but found himself to be kittenishly weak. Jake laughed at Neal's feeble attempt and pressed his body against Neal's as he wrapped his arms around his waist. Neal struggled to get away, even if that meant going over the edge of the patio, but Jake had a firm hold on him.
"Jake, get off me!" Neal demanded.
"It's okay, I don't want hurt you."
"I don't care, I don't like this."
"It's fine." Jake insisted as he reached up and ran his fingers through Neal's hair.
"No!" Neal barked as he tried to pull away. "Peter, help me…please, don't let him touch me."
Sighing heavily Peter made a labored show of putting down his coffee and getting to his feet as if Neal's request irritated him. When Peter stepped up to Jake Neal expected him to just pulled Jake off of him, but Peter lashed out and effortlessly snapped Jake's neck instead. Without even a cry of pain Jake collapsed. Looking down in horror it wasn't just Jake but also Sawyer, and Adler that now lay in a lifeless heap of corpses at his feet.
"Do I have to do *everything* for you?" Peter demanded.
"I…I'm sorry, Peter." Neal stuttered. "I...I can't kill."
"That's funny, because it's that attitude is going to *get* me killed."
With a guilty weight on his chest Neal sat bolt upright with a sharp gasp. Looking around the bare walls of their underground cell was almost a relief when compared to the bitter anger in Peter's voice in the nightmare. With a cold sweat rolling off his skin Neal jerked violently when he finally noticed Jake sitting next to him.
"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." Jake said, nearly echoing his dream counterpart.
Unsure of what to trust Neal just stared warily at Jake. Jake reached out to put his hand on Neal's shoulder but stopped himself when Neal's expression changed to one that made it clear he didn't want to be touched.
"Sorry." Jake apologies. "Are you really with us this time?"
"I don't know." Neal answered truthfully.
"You've been in and out of it for a while now, but you look better. How do you feel?"
"Nauseous."
"Understandable."
"Where's Peter?" Neal demanded.
"Behind you."
Neal turned so that he could look behind himself and found Peter sleeping on his back up against the wall. There was a new deep purple butterfly shaped bruise that sat across the bridge of his nose and spread its wings out under his eyes. Locked in REM sleep Peter's eyes darted around under the their lids as his chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm. Peter twitched in a nightmare of his own as he whimpered quietly. Neal put his hand on Peter's chest and almost instantly calmed him.
"What happened to him?" Neal asked concerned.
"He lost a fight." Jake answered dismissively. "He's going to be so glad to see you awake and lucid. It's been a long few days for him."
"I should let him sleep." Neal said even though he wanted nothing more than to wake him.
"No, go ahead and wake him up." Jake offered. "He'd want you to, and afterwards he'll sleep better knowing you're okay."
Neal wasn't entirely sure that he was okay, he felt like it was taking all of his effort just to sit up. However he did want to talk with Peter if for no other reason to make sure he wasn't angry with him for not being capable of bringing himself to murder. Neal knew it was stupid to attribute Peter's actions in a dream to real life, but right now he just wanted a comforting word to assure himself they were still friends.
"Hang on, before you wake him I need to move." Jake said as he got to his feet.
"What? Why?"
"Lately Peter wakes up a little delirious, and if I'm too close to you when that happens he attacks me." Jake explained. "He tends to snap out of it quickly, but he's still gotten in a few jabs. So now I try to make sure I'm out of range."
Neal couldn't help but wonder exactly what had gone on between Peter and Jake while he was out. A little worried about how Peter was going to react to being woken out of a dream Neal just called his name rather than jarring him awake with physical contact. For as deeply as Peter had been sleeping he snapped his eyes open at the sound of his name. Looking disoriented Peter's whole body tensed up, ready for a fight. Neal was ready to move if Peter took a swing at him, and at first it looked like there was a real danger of that. However once Peter focused on Neal he smiled brightly as he sat up and put his hand on Neal's shoulder.
"Neal?" Peter asked as though he didn't believe what he was seeing.
"Peter." Neal greeted warmly.
Peter's already bright smile widened as he pulled Neal into a relieved embrace. Feeling more grounded in reality Neal closed his eyes and returned the warm affection as he enjoyed a moment of peace. It wasn't until Peter released him that Neal was reminded about the injury to his side by a sharp stab of pain that hissed across his teeth.
"I'm sorry." Peter apologized.
"It's okay…what happened?" Neal asked looking down at the quarter inch puncture wound between his ribs that had started to heal.
"You had a numbothorac." Jake answered.
"A what?"
"Pneumothorax." Peter corrected. "A pocket of air between your lung and chest wall was threatening to collapse your lung."
"We had to jab you with a needle that could have taken down a horse to get the air out."
Neal furrowed his brow thoughtfully as he looked at the wound. "Do we still have the needle?"
"I think it's in the trash in the bathroom." Jake nodded.
"Can you get it for me?"
"I don't think you want to see it." Peter interjected.
"Peter's right." Jake said with a winch. "I nearly passed out just looking at it."
"Please get it for me." Neal insisted.
"Alright." Jake shrugged as he got up.
"Neal?" Peter questioned.
"Just trust me."
Peter nodded and didn't question Neal's motives further. Neal didn't want to tell the two men what he was thinking in case it wasn't going to work. Feeling fatigued already Neal leaned his back against the cement wall flinching at how cold it felt. Mistaking Neal's reaction for one of pain Peter's expression flashed to one of concern. Neal smiled to let him know he was okay and Peter relaxed slightly. Neal was about to make a comment about Peter's hyper vigilance to let him know that although he appreciated it it wasn't necessary, however decided against it. Peter needed his role of protector to stay sane and asking him to ease back on that role would only do him harm.
Jake returned holding a thick gauge needle that did make Neal a little queasy to look at. Jake offered Neal the sinister looking steel that was stained with dried blood. Taking the needle Neal inspected it, it was about three inches long and when he tried to bend it he found it to be surprisingly sturdy. Licking his thumb and index finger he carefully cleaned the blood off. It wasn't easy to bend, but pressing it into the stone floor he was able to angle the tip. Once he was done he held it up to show the other two like it was a profound work of art he had just created.
"Will that work?" Peter asked hopefully.
"It's perfect." Neal replied confidently.
"Uh, Neal," Jake said doubtfully "I hate to break it to you, but I was just kidding about being able to take down a horse with that. That's a terrible weapon."
"It's not a weapon…it's half of a lock pick set."
