Chapter Eighty

"Home sweet, home, eh?"

"Yeah."

Neal had meant to sound more enthusiastic but he couldn't help the hollowness in his lackluster response. Mozzie looked at him with an apprehensive concern that only served to add a layer of irritation to Neal's dark mood. Already battling a slow boiling anxiety the last thing Neal wanted right now was Mozzie worrying about his every action and affect. Taking a deep breath Neal tried to remind himself that Mozzie was only trying to help and that he was likely just as uncomfortable with the situation as he was. Mozzie was used to handling Neal when he was angry or even depressed but his current state was uncharted waters. Unsure of how to react to Neal's obvious distress Mozzie looked like a deer in headlights that was standing on egg shells.

"I'm sorry, Mozzie." Neal forced a smile and found that it actually did help him relax. "It is good to be home, I'm just tired."

"Understandable." Mozzie nodded thoughtfully. "How about dinner now so you can get to bed early? Elizabeth must have cooked all last night, she stocked your fridge with a full week's worth of meals all individually packaged and made to the doctor's orders."

"That was sweet of her, but I'm not very hungry. Actually right now a glass of wine sounds really good."

"Alcohol?" Mozzie asked warily. "Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

"Mozzie." Neal said in a warning tone.

"Red or white?" Mozzie asked rather than argued.

"Red."

"I'm on it, go get comfortable."

Looking around the apartment Neal found Mozzie's suggestion far more easier said than done. Physically exhausted but with more mental energy than he knew what to do with Neal wasn't even feeling comfortable in his own skin. Looking around the apartment that he'd lived in for years he couldn't help but feel like none of it was familiar. Standing indecisively in the middle of the apartment with a growing knot in his stomach Neal was starting to worry that he may have made a mistake declining Peter's offer to stay with him. Peter had worked hard to try and convince Neal to come home with him, but at the time Neal had honestly believed that getting to his own space was the only thing that was going to make him feel better.

Grinding his teeth in frustration Neal reminded himself he couldn't allow his dependency on Peter continue, it wasn't healthy for either one of them. Now was as good a time as any to learn to feel safe on his own again. Mozzie clanking glasses in the kitchen reminded Neal that he wasn't alone, but as much as he hated to admit it he was feeling that Mozzie might be part of the problem. Having to put on a brave facade for him was quickly starting to wear on Neal. If he truly had the place to himself Neal felt he might have a shot at some real relief by just laying down on the bed and closing his eyes for a while or better yet maybe even under the bed.

Neal had thought the last part in jest at himself but glancing over at one of the corners of the room he found himself wondering if he would feel better with his back against one of them. With adrenaline pouring into his blood despite a complete lack of threat in the room Neal turned all his focus on trying to quell his rising nausea. With his heart racing painfully Neal had to fight to keep from panting. Swallowing down the acrid taste of bile Neal was proud that he managed to not start dry heaving. With the peak of the panic attack slowly passing Neal relaxed slightly.

"…Neal?" Mozzie called in a tone that suggested he had actually called Neal's name a new times before being heard. "Neal, I think we should call Peter."

"What? Why?"

"Because you haven't moved in five minutes."

Neal looked down at the hardwood floor like it was to blame for his lack of forward progress. Ignoring the fact that Mozzie was likely right Neal just shook his head. Walking over to Mozzie Neal took the bottle of wine that Mozzie had set the corkscrew in but hadn't actually opened. Neal growled in irritation as he struggled to free the cork. Mozzie silently offered to help but Neal took a step back, determined to do it himself. Eventually wining Neal poured out of a glass of the deep red wine and very suddenly wished he had chosen a white instead. The deep red color wasn't really the same crimson hue as blood but it was close enough to remind him of it. With concrete gray and blood red having been the two dominate colors in his life lately the subtleties of the various shades within the spectrum were lost on him at the moment. The slight metallic taste that was still plaguing him didn't help as he stared at the wine settling into the glass.

"I really don't think you should be drinking that." Mozzie said noting that Neal was hesitating but not guessing the reason for that hesitation correctly. "Might be a little strong."

"I've been drinking basically pure ethanol lately." Neal said bitterly.

"That doesn't mean it was a good idea."

It hadn't been Neal's idea or even his choice at the time when Jake had been forcing the liquor down his throat. In defiance of Mozzie and Jake Neal knocked back half the glass before realizing his friend was right. Coughing slightly on the dry wine Neal jerked away when Mozzie tried to take the rest of the glass away from him. Trying to prove that he could be a little more civilized about it Neal took his next sip more carefully as if he was enjoying the flavor. However it didn't taste good, despite being one of his favorite vintages Neal was finding it repugnant. Neal tried to tell himself that it was just the color that was turning his stomach and not the association between the alcohol and Jake during one of his more abusive moments. In truth it was both. Barely muscling down another sip through clenched teeth Neal knew he was being recklessly stubborn.

"Neal, seriously, put that down. You're going to throw up."

Neal knew Mozzie was only just trying to help and more than that he was also right, but that didn't keep him from getting angry. Despite being kitten weak when trying to open the bottle Neal now put the glass down on the kitchen counter with far too much force and snapped the stem of the glass. Mozzie snatched the rest of the glass away from Neal as if he was afraid that Neal might suddenly squeeze the glass itself too tight and shatter it in his hand.

"Why don't you just sit down for a while." Mozzie suggested. "It's been a long day."

It really hadn't been all that long a day they simply hadn't been discharged from the hospital until later in the afternoon because there had been a lot of paperwork and details to work out before releasing them. The most complicated of which was determining exactly where he stood on his prison sentence and who actually had the rights of his custody. Even though it wasn't his fault that he'd been taken off anklet for the past few months according to all his very carefully worded contracts with the FBI his custody had technically transferred back to the US Marshals. Luckily for Neal the Federal Marshals were not interested in getting tangled up in his case and when Hughes asked them for a new contract they were more than happy to grant it. Unfortunately due to his past Neal had already been categorized as an extremely high flight risk which had infuriatingly slowed down and complicated the process of getting him assigned back to the FBI.

It had been maddening to be trapped at the hospital in a sticky web of red tape, but to Hughes' credit he had worked tirelessly to slash through it. Neal particularly appreciated that Hughes was able to get him a new deal that although very conditional did not include having to wear an anklet. It had surprised Neal to learn that Hughes had even officially taken on the role of his legal handler instead of having Jones or Diana do it. Being his handler had taken a level of trust that Neal didn't think Hughes had in him. By being the one who had both requested Neal be off anklet and being the Agent responsible for him Hughes was definitely putting his job on the line for him. An Agent simply assigned to Neal wouldn't have the same kind of expectations as a Special Agent in Charge and Division Leader when it came to keeping him in check. If Neal ran now Hughes would be likely be forced into retirement at the best or flat out fired at the worst.

'If I took you now they'd all think you'd just run off.'

Neal weld his eyes shut at Jake suddenly leering threats in his mind again. It hadn't been a full hallucination, more of just an anxiety producing thought about a possible future. 'Jake' was right, if Neal disappeared now it would be assumed that he had left on his own. The FBI wouldn't put as much energy into finding him as they had put into finding Peter. The FBI didn't stand for one of their own going missing, but they couldn't afford to throw everything they had every time a civilian dropped off the map. Neal knew that if Jake somehow got to him now that Peter would never stop trying to find him, but it wouldn't take long before he wouldn't have the support of the FBI to do it. Starting to worry that there might actually be a chance that Jake could find him Neal's blood ran cold.

'Of course I'm going to find you.' Jake chuckled in the back of Neal's mind. 'I've got nothing better to do, no where else to go. Not to mention I am known and feared by easily half the truly dangerous criminals in New York. You, Peter and York are the only ones who know I'm branded, the rest see me as York's right hand man and enforcer. Once I'm done licking my wounds I'm going to figure that out.'

Neal snapped his eyes open as he gasped sharply at the realization that he'd just come to for Jake. Although Jake might not think of it immediately himself he was nothing if not a survivor and a clever one at that. Jake had ruled over the Labyrinth like a lion over lambs and once the disorientation of exile through escape wore off he would become a predator again. Neal knew he was still difficult to find, but it wasn't as impossible as he had been telling himself.

"Neal?" Mozzie asked concerned. "Are you okay? Are you even with me?"

"The wine was a bad idea." Neal admitted even though the slight intoxication was the least of his problems right now.

"It looks like more than just the wine." Mozzie said bluntly. "Peter…"

"No!" Neal interrupted sharply. "I'm sorry, just, please stop. Peter deserves time to be with Elizabeth without having to constantly worry about me. I have to prove to him that I can make it through the night without him."

'Prove it to him?' Jake silently mocked. 'You'll be lucky to prove it to yourself.'

"Alright." Mozzie said begrudgingly. "I just wish I knew how to help you. You're shaking. What can I do for you?"

"Honestly…" Neal hesitated to tell Mozzie to leave even though he was craving some privacy right now.

'Just like an injured animal,' Jake sneered in disgust 'pushing away help so you can crawl off to die alone. Pathetic, no wonder Peter doesn't trust your life choices.'

Neal growled in frustration, not at Mozzie but at the demon mocking him in his own head. Not knowing what was going on in Neal's thoughts Mozzie understandably assumed Neal was upset with him.

"Don't tell me to leave, Neal. I'm not leaving you alone, not when you're like this. I can take you back to the hospi…"

"No." Neal said quickly. "I'm not going back and I...I don't want you to leave. I'm sorry, I just…I'm sorry. I know I'm being difficult."

"You're not being difficult." Mozzie said sympathetically before thinking about it. "Well actually you are, but it's understandable."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, but can you do something for me?"

"Of course."

"Sit down before you fall down, and try to eat something. It would be a shame to let of Elizabeth's hard work cooking go to waste."

"Both good ideas." Neal nodded trying to accept Mozzie's help even if food was the last thing on his mind right now.

"If you're going to get through the night we need to take it one step at a time."

"Thank you."

"Of course."

Sitting down at the small table Neal did feel a little better just getting off his feet. While Mozzie busied himself reheating dinner in the kitchen Neal worked on improving his absent appetite. He looked over at the heavy blanket that Mozzie had put up over the glass patio door and sighed. He and Peter had both come a long way in their light sensitivity already, however the full power of the sun was still painful. They had been given dark polarized sunglasses with small leather blinders at the corners of the eyes, but they weren't supposed to wear them indoors to prevent them from taking a step backwards. They'd spend the next week with progressively lighter lenses and more outdoor exposure until they fully adjusted. Neal had already been told he was going to have a more difficult time with it due to his light eye color. He was surprised by just how atrophied the muscles that control his irises had become but two months in the poorly lit Labyrinth combined with the near starvation had taken a toll on most of his strength.

Once Mozzie brought food over to the table Neal had to admit that he should have listened to him earlier. Even with the restrictive guidelines she'd been given Elizabeth's cooking was far better than anything the hospital had offered him. Peter had initially tried to get Neal and Mozzie to at least join them for dinner but Neal had declined for a few reasons. It never even occurred to Neal that Peter's multiple attempts to keep them together may not have been entirely altruistic, and that perhaps he was just as nervous about being apart tonight as Neal was.

Eating more than he had in months Neal did have to battle some more nausea but without the anxiety he'd had previously it was easier to manage. Seeing Neal a little more relaxed helped Mozzie as well and it wasn't long before Mozzie was back to his usual talkative self. With no need to really actively participate in the conversation Neal just listened to Mozzie tell him about the events of the past few months. The stream of consciousness way that Mozzie related the details was fairly typical for him but also seemed to show that he had a cathartic need to work through the stress and frustration that he'd gone through. The more of it he relayed the more relaxed and animated Mozzie became about the story and Neal suspected that he had also started to embellish it a little as well proving that he was relaxing.

Neal wished he could gain some of the same relief from just talking, but he doubted that he would ever be able to tell Mozzie anything about what happened in any kind of detail. However listening to Mozzie was having a calming effect as he felt like at the very least he was helping his friend by giving him his attention. Not realizing just how much time had passed it was getting fairly late by the time Mozzie caught up to the present day with his tale. Neal had really only gathered about half of what Mozzie had said but he did appreciate how he had never seemed to give up hope of them being found alive. Unable to stop himself Neal yawed as Mozzie was wrapping up some added details.

"Sorry." Mozzie apologized. "I kinda rambled."

"It's okay." Neal smiled before yawning again.

"Bedtime?"

Mozzie had asked the question in all innocents but even the casual mention of sleep was enough to instantly spike Neal's adrenaline causing his heart to seemingly leap into his throat. The sudden reappearance of his previous anxiety felt more difficult to bear after having just been calm, like the shock of jumping back into cold water after getting warm. With his stomach very slow to digest the relatively large meal Neal worried he might physically be sick even though hours had passed since he'd last eaten. Quickly getting to his feet Neal was frozen in a moment of indecision about if he was going to actually make it all the way to the bathroom or if he should just make a break for the near by kitchen sink.

"Neal?"

Not wanting to be sick in front of Mozzie Neal made the flash decision to head for the bathroom and hoped that he didn't ruin the plush white carpet in the walk in closet along the way. Grateful that Mozzie didn't follow him Neal still felt the need to lock the bathroom door behind him even though he didn't really have the time to spare. Barely making it to his knees in time Neal violently lost most of what he had managed to eat. Gasping for breath through the dry heaving that followed Neal battled to regain control.

Eventually calming his stomach even though his nerves were still singing Neal forced himself back to his feet. Stepping over to the sink Neal turned the facet on and splashed cold water on his face without even thinking about what he was doing. Neal's hydrophobia lashed out at him like a physical force. Dropped back to the marble floor Neal wrapped his arms over his stomach and doubled over as the dry heaving returned with a vengeance. With his abdominal muscles convulsing powerfully it was nearly impossible to take a deep breath. The sensation of near asphyxiation dragged him deeper into the memory of nearly drowning at Jake's hand.

'I'm sorry, Neal, I know I did this to you.' Jake voice rang out sounding genuinely sympathy. 'But don't worry, I'm going to make it right. I'm going to finish what I started.'

Neal curled up tighter as he reached up to press his forearms against his ears and lace his fingers behind his head in a desperate attempt to shut Jake out. Unfortunately just like in the hospital there was no escape from the delusion. Neal tried to call out for help to save him from the invisible foe but his voice had no breath to support it.

'It's going to be okay, Neal. When I find you I'm going to put you out of both of our misery.'