Just a short one today! :) I wanted it to be published altogether with the next part, but I decided to split it. Hope you're all doing well! Thanks for all your support, as always I really enjoyd reading your comments!


Neal woke up and felt blinded by bright lights. His breathing got faster and faster and he frantically blinked to capture where he was. He tried to raise his right hand to touch his face, but he couldn't, something cold and heavy around his wrist stopped his movement. He couldn't move his left hand either, when he tried to he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.

And that was the point when he totally panicked, it only took him less than five seconds. He hyperventilated and desperately tried to free himself.

Suddenly he recognized a friendly voice through the loud noise in his ears. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Slowly, very slowly, he gained control over his body. He warily tried to open his eyes again and could see a woman in a pink working dress standing next to him through his foggy vision.

She reached down to gently touch his cheek. Neal flinched before he could stop himself and the nurse quickly pulled his hand back, looking at him pityingly.

"It's all right, Neal. You're save! You'll be fine soon!", she said soothingly. Neal tried to calm his breathing and looked her in the eyes.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I… just don't like being touched.", he said in a husky, small voice. She smiled warmly.

"That's all right, love! Don't worry. Wait a minute, I'll go get the doctor"

He nodded weakly, turned his head and his gaze wandered down his body. His left shoulder was wrapped in a thick bandage and his arm was covered in a sling. His right wrist was tied to the bed rail with handcuffs. He couldn't move a tiny bit without hot pain running through his whole upper body. Fantastic, he thought and leaned back on his pillow with a heavy sight.

A middle-aged, bald male doctor entered the room, took a chair and sat down beside him. He threw him a reassuring smile, watching him closely.

"Hey there, Neal! I'm Dr. Parker. It's nice to finally meet you awake."

Neal frowned.

"Where am I?", he asked hesitantly, avoiding the compassionate expression on the doctor's face.

"Mount Sinai Medical. Do you know what happened?" Neal shook his head, subsequently flinching because of the bloody pain in his chest.

"That's all right. After all you went through... And don't worry. I'll go get you a few more pain blockers before you…", he broke off in the middle of the sentence.

Neal turned to meet his eyes. "Before I… what?", he asked sharply.

Now Dr. Parker couldn't hold his gaze. "That still has time. As soon as you feel a little bit better, an agent is going to come back, and he'll explain. For now: You have a gunshot wound in your shoulder and the bullet damaged your collarbone. But otherwise, you're a lucky boy. It hit your torso an inch away from your heart. You had to have an operation, but all went well, and you should be able to use your arm as usual in about six weeks. Furthermore, there are many bruises and a few cracked rips, but I suppose you're getting used to that last part. Man, you're looking like a well-used punching ball, buddy. I've never seen so many old injuries. What the hell happened in your past, kid?", he asked in utter amazement.

Neal suddenly felt very tired and just lightly shook his head to indicate, that he wasn't willing to talk about that.

"It's all right, you don't have to…", the doctor began.

Suddenly Neal's eyes widened and he felt his pulse rising. He turned to face the doctor and interrupted him.

"Peter… What happened to Peter?", he gasped in horror, the pictures of the motionless man in his lap vividly in his mind now.

"Who…? Oh, you mean the older agent. Well… I'm not allowed to tell you, I'm afraid…", he said in an indifferent voice.

Neal shook his head and tried to sit up, the handcuffs cut painful in his wrist and he frantically tried to free himself and get rid of the sling around his other arm.

"I have to see him!", he cried.

The doctor stood up startled and raised his hands to sooth him.

"Calm down, Neal. It's all right…"

But Neal couldn't. "Let me see him, please!", he entreated him.

But the doctor just shook his head. "I'm sorry…".

Neal went furious now and was finally able to shake of the sling. Ignoring the pain, he started to work on the handcuffs. The doctor pushed the emergency button and tried to stop Neal, which just fuelled his anger. Suddenly Agent Jones stepped inside the room. He crossed it and bend over Neal's bed, pushed him back on his pillow, held his wrists.

"Stop that, Caffrey! What do you think you're doing?", he pressed through clenched teeth.

Neal tried to rear up, kicked with his knees and feet to get away.

"Leave…me… alone!", he yelled in utter despair, anxiety all across his face. Jones just pressed him down harder.

"I'll let you go as soon as you're able to calm yourself down.", he said, very matter-of-factly. Neal continued struggling, Jones face right in front of his own.

"Caffrey…Neal. Look at me! Just look at me, will you?"

Neal met his eyes, but couldn't focus and tried to loosen the agent's tight grip around his wrist by kicking again.

Jones groaned. "Come on, kid. I'm not here to hurt you. But I promise I'll do so if you won't stop that shit!"

Neal tried to rear up one last time, unable to fight the young agent's firm grip, then dropped his head weakly to one side, breathing hard, his whole body went rigid and he forced himself, with all his willpower, not to move.

"Please…", he whimpered, barely audible.

Jones hands remained on his wrists for a few more seconds, then he slowly released them and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"No more games, understand? Behave yourself, I don't want to tie up your ankles, too."

The doctor quickly went to examine the boys' wound and placed his arm in the sling again, Neal didn't even complain.

"Like I said, you're lucky, young man. The suture held. Do you need a sedative?", he asked in Jones direction.

Jones hesitated. "Do I?", he firmly forwarded the question to Neal, who just lightly shook his head in resignation, still breathing hard and avoiding the agent's gaze.

"Well then. May I…? I'll come back later with more pain killers. I suppose Mr. Caffrey will need them even more now after this… incident.", the doctor said, pointing to the door and Jones nodded approvingly. The room went quiet after he disappered. Jones stepped forward to pull over another chair and sat down beside the bed. They both remained quiet for a while. Slowly Neal's breathing normalized.

"I'm sorry.", he mumbled and closed his eyes.

"What was all that about?", Jones asked sternly. Neal didn't react.

"Come on, Caffrey! Help me understand.", he said more amiably.

Neal concentrated on the ceiling.

"I… I just wanted to know if Pet… Agent Burke is… if he is…", he admitted in a small voice.

Jones was watching him closely.

"You wanted to know if Agent Burke is still alive?" Neal hesitated, then nodded and forced himself to look Jones in the eyes.

"Please, Agent Jones.", he whispered.

The young man paused for a moment. He could see pure fear in the young criminal's eyes and couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"He IS alive, Caffrey. But he's not conscious at the moment. They had to put him in an artificial coma.", he said softly.

Hot tears stung the boy's eyes. He felt utterly helpless, not even able to wipe them away.

"It's all my fault!", he admitted in plain desperation.

"Is it, Caffrey?", Jones asked with a sight. "I think we need to talk about that!"


The first thing Peter noticed when he finally regained consciousness was the soft, warm hand covering his own. He slightly moved his fingers, moved his head back and forth and then warily opened his eyes a tiny bit. All he could see was white. White sheets, white walls, white floor. White and dazzling.

He moved his head to see who the other hand he was feeling belonged to and could see his beloved wife, resting her head on his stomach, fast asleep.

He couldn't help but smile. How did he deserve that woman? Suddenly the door opened, and a nurse entered the room.

"Oh, Mr. Burke, you're awake!", she said surprised and seemingly pleased.

El's head shot up and she stared at him, her eyes still sleepy, but glittering with joy.

"Honey!", she simply said and stood up to touch his face. She smiled and kissed him gently on his cheek.

"I missed you so, so much.", she said, now tearfully.

"Please, love, don't cry.", Peter begged. "It's all right now. You won't get rid of me THAT fast!".

He grinned.

"Not funny, Peter. Not funny!", El replied, but grinning, too.

"How long…?", he asked, serious again.

"Almost four weeks. Your body needed time to heal. It was… close."

She explained how he needed three surgeries and various other treatments until the doctors decided to wake him up. And how she remained next to him for over four days now, to be there when he would be awake.

Peter shook his head.

"Four weeks, huh? Can't believe it. You must be exhausted, love. You shouldn't have…", he started, but El interrupted him.

"Of course I had to. You would do exactly the same." And he couldn't deny that.

Peter closed his eyes. He suddenly felt very tired. El lay his head back on his stomach and just enjoyed that they were back together. How could he be so tired, after four weeks of just sleeping?

Suddenly, he felt wide awake, his eyes opened and he touched El's shoulder.

"Baby, what about Neal?", he brought out.

El smiled sadly. "I knew this question would be coming. Don't worry. He is fine! As far as I know."

Peter shook his head. "Tell me what happened.", he demanded firmly.

"Hon, I really think you should wait…"

Peter interrupted her again. "I don't want to wait. Tell me!", he requested.

El heavily sighted.

"There he is again, my beloved hubby…", she said.

Peter raised his eyebrows invitingly.

"All right… Well. Good news are, he's save. I mean, more ore less… After what happened… It was all a mess. They couldn't really determine who shot you."

Peter stared at here, an expression of disbelief in his face.

"What are you telling me, they think…Neal shot me?", he cried out in horror.

"Well… no. They don't know really. And as far as I know, Neal wasn't much of a help. He refused to talk. Wait for Clinton and Diana. They'll explain it to you.", she tried to reassure him.

Peter felt his heart racing now. "Where is he, El?", he asked calmly.

"Well… in juvenile detention.", she admitted quietly.

His tiredness was now gone for good. He persuaded El to go home, to take care of Satchmo and have a good sleep. After she had left his room, it took him less than an hour to contact Clinton and Diana and order them to the hospital. They both seemed relieved to see him awake, but he wasn't in the mood for small-talk and forced them right away to tell him all that happened.

"Well…", Jones began. "It was all quite a mess down there, boss. One of the guards is dead, a gunshot right in his head, probably a ricochet. Keller… he was able to escape. In all that chaos, he managed to find a small tunnel in the back of the room and just vanished. The whole NYPD and all our folks are looking for him. But no trace so far. And the second guard… well, he survived. Badly wounded, but he did it. And… ", he cleared his throat. "He's blaming Neal."

Peter frowned in disbelief. "He's blaming Neal for what?", he asked confused.

"He claims Neal shot you!", Diana announced quietly.

Peter frantically shook his head. "But he didn't! I couldn't really SEE who it was, but it definitely wasn't Neal. What about the weapons you've found?", he asked in despair.

"The one you were shot with is missing. Neal had a another one in his hand when we found you. And there were smoke traces on both of his hands! And well, he refuses to talk to us. He's just repeating that he is responsible for what happened.".

Peter shook his head again. "Cut the crap. He didn't do it. That stupid boy!", he groaned. "I've got to get out of here to do something!", he tried to sit up, but pain and exhaustion made him lay down again. But no matter what, he had to fix that mess as soon as possible!