NOTE: this was a tough one to write but I think you'll enjoy ;)

Chapter Eighty-three

Having eventually pulled his stomach back under control but still hiding in the bathroom Neal found himself staring at his reflection. Looking at the near stranger he fought to reconcile his current appearance with his memory of his own self image. He had grown used to the sharper features as his already angular cheek and jaw was further exaggerated by his weight loss. The monochromatic effect of his now near alabaster completion contrasting with his hair that had gone from deep brown to true onyx didn't phase him anymore. Even the ever changing colors his various bruises and the scar that gave him a streak of pink under his left eye felt completely normal now. The piece that didn't fit was the one aspect that was staring back at him, something that he felt couldn't have changed but at the same time must have because it felt so alien.

'I know what you're thinking.' Jake's voice rang out sympathetically. 'And the answer is: yes, your eyes used to be bluer.'

Closing his washed out eyes Neal tried and failed to get Jake out of his head. He told himself it was just a trick of the light or even just his own eyesight failing him that had drained the color.

'You think it's just physical weight you lost in the Labyrinth?' Jake asked pragmatically. 'The Labyrinth takes a far higher toll than just the body and eyes are the windows to the soul. Souls are made of glass, Neal, once shattered you can glue them back together again but they will never be the same and there will always be missing pieces.'

Neal was determined to ignore the delusion that was tormenting him but he couldn't help but feel that was Jake was right. Despite surviving, despite escaping he still felt broken. The fact that his self doubt and demons were physically manifesting themselves in the powerful hallucination of his former tormentor was just more proof to him that Jake had a valid point. Opening his eyes Neal looked over at the image of Jake lounging casually in the empty bathtub.

'What was it Peter used to tell you about what you could be?'

"A con or a man." Neal whispered.

'You'll never be either now.' Jake said coldly. 'You're just a shadow of both.'

Neal stared at Jake in horror.

'Ooooo, just struck a nerve didn't I? You never knew what you were before and now you're a shadow of yourself. All the the sun is going to do is make that more stark. At least in the gloom of the Labyrinth you could hide your new darkness. You're never going to be the confident carefree creature you once were. Hell, you'll be lucky if manage to resist the temptation to swan dive off your balcony before the weeks out.'

Locked in the delusion Neal started trembling at the idea of losing his life at his own hand after having fought so hard to keep someone else from taking it from him. As far as suicide was from his mind right now he could more easily see his pain and fear driving him to it more clearly than he could visualize ever feeling safe and healthy again. Absently mindedly reaching over his shoulder under his shirt Neal dug his nails into an itch that had started to suddenly burn. Neal furrowed his brow as his nails caught something in his skin causing a flash of pain.

Bringing his hand down Neal's breath hissed across his teeth as he stared down at the crimson blood staining his fingertips. Sitting in the blood a sliver of glass sparkled in the gore. Neal froze as he flashed back to the moment he had received the devastating injury during his first disastrous fight. When it had happened Neal hadn't known exactly what had happened, there had just been an explosion of incapacitating and seemingly sourceless pain. He had known that he still needed to fight but all he could do was scream helplessly and cower from his opponent until the bell saved him. Bile rose to the back of Neal's throat as adrenaline washed into his system at the sickening memory of Peter spending hours ripping bloody glass out of his flesh.

Locked in the nightmares of the past Neal jolted when Jake suddenly started coughing violently from his place in the bathtub. Looking up from the blood on his hand Neal watched as Jake struggled for breath. The delusion had become so real that Neal forgot his own pain for a moment as he stepped forward to help. Neal stopped dead in his tracks when Jake started coughing up an unnatural amount of water. With water running off his chin like a fountain Jake looked up at Neal with a terrified panic in his dark eyes. It was the exact same look that he had given Neal up through the water when Neal had been holding him down

'Neal…please, help me.' Jake begged through the endless water flow. 'Neal…Neal, please…'

With madness pressing down on him Neal was paralyzed.

"Neal, please…please, open the door."

Neal jerked as Jake's final plea had not been his own voice. It took Neal a second to realize that the voice he'd just heard was real and belonged to Mozzie on the far side of the bathroom door. Snapped out of his daze by a solid connection to the present Neal turned and opened the door. Seeing Mozzie's concern Neal forced a smile as he tried to shrug off the alarming spell he'd fallen over and move forward. As much as he had wanted Mozzie to leave earlier it helped to have someone with him that could keep him grounded in reality.

"Are you okay?" Mozzie asked nervously.

"I just ate too much." Neal explained.

"The doctor did say your stomach was going to be delicate for a while." Mozzie nodded as he went along with the obvious lie.

"Please don't tell Elizabeth, I don't want her thinking it was her cooking."

"Mum's the word." Mozzie promised. "…are you bleeding?"

"What?" Neal looked down at the blood on his hand. "Oh, it's nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been bleeding for months, I know how much I can lose." Neal replied with a colder edge to his voice than he'd meant.

"I just think maybe…"

"It's nothing."

Neal hated the way Mozzie winced at his hard tone but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Trying to prove to them both that the blood wasn't an issue Neal turned on the faucet to wash it off. Biting his tongue to keep his stomach under control Neal forced his hands under the running water and fought not to think about holding Jake under. Even though he hadn't gone through with drowning Jake Neal was still deeply disturbed by how much satisfaction he had gained in the few seconds that he had managed to inflict some measure of pain and terror on his tormentor. Neal had been so frustratingly helpless against Jake's power and skill that turning the tides had brought him a wash of power. Jake was living proof of just how corrupt that kind of power could be and Neal regretted his taste of it. It was a stain on his heart that he couldn't wash away.

"Uh, Neal?" Mozzie questioned. "I think you're clean."

"What? Oh, right."

Neal yanked his hands out of the running water as if it had suddenly gotten boiling hot. Ignoring the look Mozzie was giving him Neal shook his hands out and went to dry them on his shirt before he stopped himself and remembered to turn and us a towel. Gesturing for Mozzie to step to the side Neal headed back out in the living room. Pacing around he opened the doors to step out on the patio but Jake's words about jumping to his death caused him to back away and close them again. Becoming increasingly exhausted but also on the edge of panic Neal turned to Mozzie.

"I want to steal something." Neal announced.

"Um…okay." Mozzie replied carefully. "Anything in particular?"

"No." Neal shrugged. "How about something off the List?"

"The List? You mean the one we came up with while drunk of our top ten impossible to fence items that we'd want strictly for the challenge and/or private collection? That list?"

"That's the one. How about the Picasso?"

"How about a stick of gum from the corner store?" Mozzie countered.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Mozzie…"

"Put your hand out." Mozzie interrupted.

"What?"

"Put your hand out." Mozzie repeated as he put his own out in demonstration.

Rolling his eyes Neal brought his hand up only to discover it impossible to hold steady.

"That Picasso is protected by a laser grid…"

"Fine." Neal huffed. "Something easier but I'm not settling for anything worth less than a John Singer Sargent."

"I'm more than happy to sit down and plan…"

"I don't want to plan!" Neal barked in sudden flash of anger. "I want to get some control over my life back!"

"Easy, Neal." Mozzie said putting his hands up in a placating manner. "I know it's frustrating, but after what you've been through you need…"

"You don't know *anything* of what I've been through!" Neal snarled passionately as further lost control of his temper. "I blinded a man with my bare hands and then kicked him in the face hard enough to break it, I ground someone's broken bones in my grip till they screamed and cowered at my feet! I held…I…I nearly drown…"

Neal had to stop as his out burst combined with the accompanying hyperventilating threatened to bring him to his knees with vertigo. Mozzie tentatively stepped in to offer his support but Neal jerked away from him. Nearly losing his balance Neal staggered over to one of the chairs around the small dinning room table. Sitting down Neal dragged his shaking hands through his hair before forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. Looking over at Mozzie he hated to see his friend looking at him fearfully.

"I'm sorry." Neal said quietly.

"It's okay." Mozzie assured.

"I just need to get through the night."

"I still say we should…"

"Don't say 'call Peter'." Neal interrupted quickly. "It's getting late, he needs sleep."

"So do you."

"I know. Just give me some more time. I'll try laying down soon."

"Okay."

Wishing he could just pass out Neal sighed heavily as he stared down at the wood table. Neal shivered as the grain of the table brought back the memory of Jake playfully pinning him to the table as he mocked him with the empty threat of a violent rape. Frustrated by the plaguing memories Neal tried to focus on the fact that he had survived it all and that he had helped Peter return to Elizabeth. Neal hoped that Peter was doing better than he was tonight. Telling himself that he must be Neal took some comfort in the idea of the reunited couple. Neal had never seen a relationship quite like theirs and he had long admired and at times envied their seemingly effortless love for one another.

Neal looked up as Mozzie slowly approached with a coffee mug that had a steaming liquid in it. The smile Mozzie flashed him looked a little forced as if he was up to something. Neal shook his head at his suspicions and chalked Mozzie's anxiety up to not knowing how to cope with the high stress situation. Forcing a smile of his own Neal accepted the mug.

"What's this?" Neal asked.

"Warm milk." Mozzie replied innocently. "To help you sleep."

"Thank you."

Neal wasn't very enthused about the old home remedy but in an effort to make Mozzie feel better he decided to try it. Taking a sip Neal was instantly struck by the powerfully bitter flavor. Spitting the tainted milk back into the mug violently Neal turned an accusing glare on Mozzie.

"What the hell is this?" Neal demanded. "What's in this?"

"You can taste that?" Mozzie asked with a guilty wince. "I'm sorry, Neal, I was just trying to help."

"What is this?" Neal repeated.

'Don't you get it Neal?' Jake chuckled as he returned.

"Di..did you try to drug me?" Neal asked shocked.

"Not drug…medicate." Mozzie corrected. "I noticed that you threw away the Alprazolam prescription so I…"

With a surge of rage Neal flung the mug, shattering it against the wall. Jumping to his feet Neal went straight for the door. He didn't know where he would go but he had to get away from here. Mozzie made a noise of panic as he realized that Neal was leaving.

"Neal, no, wait!"

Neal had just reached the door when Mozzie caught up with him. Desperate to stop Neal from leaving Mozzie put his hand on his shoulder, unable to see the blood from the glass against the dark colored fabric. The contact with the recently reopened wound only caused a slight twinge of pain but it was more than enough to set off Neal's new set of instincts.

Without any time for thought Neal whipped around with blinding speed and punched Mozzie in the face.