Chapter Eight-four

"How's it look?"

"Broken."

Hearing Peter's diagnosis Mozzie winced and put the bag of frozen peas he'd fished out of the freezer back on his painfully throbbing nose. Peter's already sour stomach twisted further as he stared down at the blood staining the front of Mozzie's shirt. Peter had seen more than enough blood for one lifetime but he couldn't imagine how negatively Neal must have reacted to it. Glancing around Neal's empty apartment Peter sighed quietly before turning to Elizabeth.

"Hon, can you take Mozzie to the hospital?"

"Of course."

"I, uh, I don't do hospitals." Mozzie protested as he put down the peas again.

"You need to get your nose set before it starts to really swell."

"Peter's right." Elizabeth added as she gently put her hand on Mozzie's shoulder. "Come on."

"I'd rather go see my vet, he takes good care of me."

"Vet?" Peter asked. "As in veterinarian…you know what, don't answer that. Just go."

"Okay." Mozzie conceded before looking up at Peter with a guilty expression. "I'm sorry I couldn't do better with Neal. I never thought he'd…"

"It's not your fault." Peter interrupted.

Mozzie just nodded slightly before accepting Elizabeth's guidance towards the door. Peter had to swallow a wave of panic at watching her leave. However he trusted that she would be safe with Mozzie. Walker wasn't stupid, he knew that he'd instantly lose the shaky legal high ground he was currently precariously standing on if he even attempted a move in their direction right now. Agent Walsh had every last aspect of Walker's life under scrutiny at the moment with all of the intensity and focus of a hunting dog waiting for just the right time to flush a bird for the hunter's gun. Peter was a little surprised by how safe he truly felt from external threats at the moment, however internal ones were an entirely different story.

Turning his attention back to the seemingly abandoned apartment Peter stepped over to the large walk in closet. Inspecting the oak paneling just inside the archway Peter noted the bloody hand print staining the glossy surface a few feet above his eye line. Reaching up Peter put his palm against the blood and pushed. There was a slight click as a hidden hitch released. Easing the pressure on the panel allowed the spring to pop open the secret door that lead to the small speakeasy hideaway. Carefully opening the door Peter's heart caught in his throat at sight of Neal on his knees doubled over with his bloodied hands wrapped over his neck and his forearms pressed firmly over his ears. Curled up in a protective ball in the back of the small secret room that was dimly lit by the one way mirror Neal shivered in wracking waves. The ebb and flow of the tremors sharply reminded Peter of the traumatic aftermath of Neal's gruesome fight with Marco that had left him shaking for hours.

Fighting the sting of tears Peter silently chastised himself for letting Neal talk him into letting him go home with Mozzie. He knew he should have fought the idea harder but he had also desperately wanted time at home with Elizabeth for at least a brief moment of normalcy. However a normal life was so far removed from them both right now that he knew he shouldn't have even tried for it so soon. With no way to undo the past Peter focused back on the present. Keeping a few back Peter knelt down on the soft carpeted floor of the hidden room and gave Neal a moment to see if he'd acknowledge him. Sensing someone near by Neal curled up tighter with quiet fearful whimper.

"Neal…"

Peter had tried to call out to his friend softly but Neal jolted and cried out in blind panic. After giving him minute to reorient himself Peter tried vocally getting Neal's attention again with similar results. Neal had spiraled too far into psychosis to be pulled back into reality that way. With Neal just welding his eyes shut harder every time Peter tried to announce his presence Peter suspected that Neal was still having auditory hallucinations of Jake and more sound was just panicking him further. When Neal started dry heaving Peter couldn't just stand by any longer.

"Neal, please, it's me, it's Peter." Peter tried one last time to get Neal's attention and failed.

Moving in closer Peter fully expected to have a fight on his hands. Knowing a light brushing touch would be more startling than a firm deliberate action Peter pressed his hand against Neal's upper back in an attempt to reground him in reality. Choking on his own surprised gasp Neal jerked his head up and snapped his eyes open wide in terror. Peter put his hands up to defend himself when Neal reared up but he quickly found it wasn't necessary as instead of launching in attack Neal threw his arms around Peter in a grateful embrace. Peter ground his teeth against a flash of pain from his broken ribs but he didn't pull away.

"Peter…" Neal whispered in relief.

"I'm here." Peter assured.

Burying his face against Peter's chest Neal's breathing degraded into a rapid shallow panting as he fought tears. Wrapping his arms around Neal protectively Peter rested his chin on Neal's head and gave him a safe places to lose his battle with his emotions as he broke down. As much as Peter wished that Neal had done better on his own tonight Peter found his own heart more at peace now that they were back in their all too familiar pose. Being home with Elizabeth had been wonderful and healing but still tainted with an edge of anxiety that only abated when he tangible evidence that Neal was safe even if he was in emotional distress. Nestled against Peter Neal was able to momentarily forget the threat of Jake that had driven close to insanity when he was alone and he slowly started to calm. Just as Peter felt that Neal might be stabilizing his friend was suddenly seized with a violent tremor as he clutched Peter like someone was about to try to tear him away. As quickly as he had clung to Peter Neal arched back and tried to push him away. Peter gave Neal a small amount of freedom in his arms but didn't let him back himself fully into the corner as he tried to get away.

"Neal?"

"I'm not safe."

"Yes you are. I'm right here."

"No." Neal shook his head as he stopped fighting Peter's hold. "I mean *I'm* not safe, I'm dangerous, I can't be trusted. Jake was right, it's part of me now…Mozzie…I…he was just…and I…"

"Easy, Neal, breathe." Peter interrupted Neal's increasingly incoherent ranting. "Mozzie is going to be okay."

"That's not the point." Neal whimpered as he leaned against Peter again. "I didn't have any control. I was angry…and then there was blood. Just like Jake."

"Neal," Peter said firmly "you are nothing like Jake."

Neal's only response was a motionless silence.

"Neal, it's going to be okay."

"I can still feel Slatery's broken bones grinding together in my hand." Neal said vacantly. "I can't close my eye without seeing blood and hearing that heartless crowd. I can't turn around without finding Jake behind me."

"Neal are you still hallucinating?"

"Yes." Neal admitted quietly.

"Do you see him right now?"

Neal lifted his head up off of Peter's chest and sat back as he looked around for his imaginary tormentor.

"No." Neal managed a slight smile. "You scared him off."

"Good."

"I'm sorry." Neal sighed as his mood quickly shifted back to misery.

"For what?"

"For needing you tonight."

"It's okay, it's good to be needed."

"I can't have you checking my closet for monsters every night."

"No, but maybe we could team up against the demons for a little longer." Peter suggested. "Come home with me. Please."

Despite everything Neal still hesitated to accept the offer.

"It's not just for you, Neal, it's for me too."

"What?"

"I can still feel Campbell's teeth sinking into my arm and the crunch of his face breaking under my fist." Peter admitted. "I can't close my eyes without seeing you almost dead at Danisko's hand and York's taunting voice echoing in my head. I can't turn around without a pang of fear when I don't know where you are and for a split second I think that Jake has you."

Hearing the genuine anxiety in Peter's voice Neal smiled empathetically. Elizabeth had been right about telling Neal outright about his own fears and needs. Peter could instantly see that Neal found comfort in knowing he wasn't alone in his struggle to recover from the trauma of the Labyrinth. Leaning in Neal embraced Peter again this time offering support rather than seeking it.

"So you'll come home with me?"

"…only if I have your forgiveness." Neal said somberly as he sat back again.

"Forgiveness? For what? Tonight? Neal it's fine I…"

"No." Neal interrupted but then fell silent.

"Neal?"

"Peter, you can't invite me into your home until…"

"Until what?" Peter asked when Neal's courage failed him again.

"Until you know that I broke into it."

"What?"

"Mozzie was becoming increasingly insistent that I pick a side, he was getting restless and the temptation to sell off the treasure was getting too great for him. I told him it was too risky, I told him you had a partial manifest, and he came up with a very obvious solution. So I agreed, and I broke into your house one night. I couldn't even go through with it once I had it…"

"Stop, wait, breathe." Peter said gently. "The manifest? How long ago was this?"

"Years."

"Neal, it wasn't easy, but I put all of that sub treasure nightmare behind me a long time ago. I thought you knew that."

"This is different. So much of what happened with that treasure was out of my hands, but not this, not invading your home. It's a line I regreted crossing the second I was through the door, but that didn't stop me, I didn't turn around. I'm sorry, Peter."

"I'm not going to lie Neal if you were telling me this under any other circumstances I'd be furious. It's no secret that we have had some major issues with trust in the past, and this might have been one of those transgression that I couldn't handle if things were different between us right now. However after two months of bathing in each other's blood and clinging to one another for life I think its safe to say none of that matters anymore. If you need to hear the words then: I forgive you."

"You say that…" Neal said with a wince "but I haven't finished, it gets worse."

"Neal, no, please, we are in a good place right now. Maybe just this once the whole truth isn't necessary."

"Peter, we both know it's too late for that. Now that I've hinted at it if I don't fully come clean it is going to cause problems, maybe not soon but definitely later."

"I know." Peter sighed heavily. "All right, fine, what's the bad news?"

Rather than answer Neal turned around and searched the wall at the back of the small room for another hidden latch. Pressing open another panel that lead to a cupboard like space Neal pulled out a black art storage cylinder about two feet long and handed it to Peter. Holding it like it was a deadly snake Peter looked at Neal apprehensively.

"What's in here?"

"The Degas."

"Forgery?" Peter asked hopefully.

"No."

Looking down at the priceless black cylinder Peter released the breath he didn't even know he had been holding. Neal had taken a big risk in handing over the drawing that could land him back in his anklet for another ten years or more likely just back in prison. Appreciating the gesture but not sure what to do with it Peter found himself a little dizzy. His Federal Agent side was having a hard time not just automatically reading Neal his rights. Swallowing hard Peter looked up at Neal who was staring at him anxiously clearly unsure if he'd just pushed Peter's good will too far.

"Are…" Peter paused "Are your fingerprints on it?"

"Peter," Neal admonished "I would never touch a Degas with my bare hands. Fingerprint oil will ruin the paper."

"Right…okay…this is what we are going to do. I'm going to find a way to get this back to the FBI anonymously and we are *never* to speak of it again."

"Deal." Neal agreed brightly.

"And don't break into my house again."

"Never."

Peter nodded as he accepted Neal's promise but his brow still knit together.

"Peter? What's wrong?"

"I don't understand. Why did Mozzie sell it in the first place if it was on the manifest?"

"Because I told him the list wasn't at your house. I told him I couldn't get the manifest."

"Why?"

"If he had the manifest he could safely sell off the rest of the treasure and once we had that money...I wouldn't have had an excuse to stay with you. I was afraid I'd lose my chance at being a better man."

Peter stared at Neal for a moment to see if having said his reasoning out loud would help him see the absurdity of it. Not seeing the fault in his logic Neal responded to Peter's expectant look with one of confusion. Smiling sadly at Neal's almost pathological need to complicate his own life Peter sighed heavily. Reaching out Peter slipped his hand behind Neal's head as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against Neal's. Accepting the contact Neal relaxed the tension he'd still been holding in his shoulders. Peter had tried for years to convince Neal that he wasn't helpless in the face of temptation, but for the first time he felt like he had a real chance of actually getting through to him.

"You never needed an excuse to stay, Neal, and you certainly don't need one to be a better man. All you have ever needed is to want to."

"It's not that simple, Peter."

"Of course it is. You're half way there already."

"That's only because I was too scared to run tonight."

"I meant because you're already a better man."