Their Friendship is Back

Something loud and rough was echoing around him.

It grated on his ears and tried his nerves. Not to mention the fact that it woke him up.

He couldn't initially identify the source of the disturbance.

Everything seemed hazy and distant like he'd been in a deep sleep and was finally waking up. His mind was slowly analyzing his surroundings, but it wasn't coherent enough to grasp even basic details beyond noting them.

There were other noises beneath the loud rasping.

As his mind woke up further, he identified a beeping sound next. It was close and steady. Beep... beep... beep.

Then he noticed that there were other electronic noises softer and more subtle. They were also steady.

For some reason, a hospital came to mind and he decided that he must be hearing medical machines.

Opening his eyes slowly, he had to blink them just a crack several times before he could tolerate the brightness of the light surrounding him.

Looking up once he was able to open his eyes more fully, he could see the standard tiles that seemed to go with most hospital rooms while his ears were picking up more distant sounds that went with hospitals.

Announcements over the intercom that was probably just outside of the door, people going back and forth outside, and of course the machinery that he'd already heard.

More awake, he finally identified the noise.

It was snoring, obnoxious snoring!

Turning his head, he followed the sound and saw that he had a roommate who was in the other bed.

It didn't take him long to realize that it was Peter.

Worried, he feared that he'd failed, that Peter had been hurt despite his efforts to protect the man from their assailants.

Although he couldn't see the extent of his injuries, he was able to soothe himself a little by the fact that Peter was clearly alive and sleeping. It couldn't be all bad since he was obviously recovering.

Closing his eyes, he tried to minimize how annoying the snores were, but it was difficult. Peter could be rather loud when he got going, and since he'd fallen asleep reclined in a partially sitting up position, his mouth had fallen wide open allowing for maximum snore effect.

Fortunately, it wasn't much longer when there was a particularly obnoxious snore followed by some snuffling sounds and Peter moving.

Since the snoring stopped, he presumed that his friend had woken himself up.

He wanted to crack a comment, to tease Peter about how grating his snoring had been that even he couldn't stand it, but he didn't know how Peter would accept something like that.

Last he knew, Peter didn't remember him and still thought of him as nothing more than a tool in the FBI's belt. Would his friend ever remember anything of their friendship, or could that relationship ever be rebuilt?

There was some noise as Peter shifted on his bed then a chair scraped against the floor.

What surprised him was when he felt his friend pick up his hand.

"Neal?" His reaction must have alerted Peter to him being conscious as his voice was curious before sounding annoyed. "Come on, Neal."

Opening his eyes and looking at his friend, he could see that Peter had a bruise on the side of his head. His face was looking scruffy like he hadn't been maintaining his shaving. Then he was wearing sweatpants and a tee-shirt as he'd seen before, but now he could see that he had a sling on his arm and heard the crinkling of a bandage under his clothes.

"Please tell me I didn't fail. You shouldn't have gotten hurt!" He couldn't think of anything else to say, he'd been so focused on protecting his friend and he feared the repercussion of what injuries Peter must have received.

Leaning forwards with one hand holding his and the other reaching up to clasp his shoulder, Peter looked rather concerned as he quickly reassured him. "No, no, Neal. You protected me, and we'll talk about that in a minute. This happened later. One of the suspects responsible for shooting you escaped at the bureau and caught me in the elevator. I wasn't paying enough attention and he took advantage of my guard being down to land into me pretty good. I'm okay though. Alright?"

"No, it's not alright." He tried to speak more but his mouth was dry so it cracked and squeaked even worse than it had before.

Moving to get him some water, Peter helped him wet his throat so that he could speak. "You've been out for a week. The doctors said you had brain activity, but you refused to wake up for some reason."

Undeterred, he wasn't going to let Peter distract him. "How bad is it?"

"Well, you got shot twice. One hit your lung..."

Obviously, his friend didn't understand his question. "You," he managed to lift his free hand to point at his friend, "How bad?"

Peter's eyes looked a little watery and his whole expression softened. "Neal, I'm alright, but by that stubborn expression, it looks like you won't let this go. Fine, you want to know what happened?"

He sighed and shook his head. "The man charged down the hallway body slamming me into the elevator as the doors opened. I tried to defuse the situation, but he wasn't having it. Before I could get my head in the game, he'd gotten a solid punch in that sent my head into the wall. Then his next blow hit me in the solar plexus and I went down. I don't remember much after that, but I'm told he gave me a concussion, a lot of bruising, broke my arm, and took out my spleen. I had emergency surgery to remove it, the damage was repaired, and I've been recovering a few feet over from you. They expect me to go home soon, but I hoped you'd wake up first."

If he was downplaying his injuries, then he wasn't doing a good job of it because that was still a serious series of events.

"I'm sorry," he wished he could have been there. If he'd been in the elevator, he could have done something to protect his friend.

"Hey, it's not your fault." Peter crooned as he moved to sitting on the side of the bed and leaning in closer. "I mean it, Neal. You have nothing to be sorry for. It's me who's sorry."

Frowning, he had no idea what Peter was sorry for. "Sorry you got hurt?"

Looking down for a second, Peter shook his head before looking back up. "I'm glad I got hurt. The doctor figures that that hit to my head is what reversed my amnesia from my last injury. Since I now remember everyone, including you, I'm glad to have my memory back."

Peter reached up and ruffled his hair in a friendly fashion before dropping his hand back to his shoulder. "And that's why I'm sorry. I know I lost my memory and that I couldn't remember you, but I'm sorry that I didn't even try to get to know you. Instead, I decided that you were a con so that must be the extent of who you are and that our relationship was only a professional one. Now, I know better, and I must apologize. I'm sorry that I treated you like a tool, that I barred you from any residual essence of the friendship we'd had by not even letting you come to my place, that I thought you'd abandoned me when I needed you, that I didn't have your back better when you got shot protecting me, that I didn't protect or help you in any way in months. I'm sorry for everything." His eyes were misty as he spoke which was unusual. The agent was typically pretty unflappable.

"Don't worry about it," he squeezed his friend's hand.

He'd missed the man he'd known, the trust, the respect, everything about the man that had made him willing to trust another agent with his back even after everything he'd been through with the Ring. There had been hope that something would bring this about, and he was glad to see that Peter had regained himself, but he wished that he hadn't been hurt so badly in the process. It was probably that Peter had been in a life-threatening situation. Just the mention of emergency surgery and an organ being removed was a good indicator that things had been bad.

"I've missed you, my friend," Peter squeezed his hand in return as a tear slipped out and ran down his cheek.

"I'll be back, partner. But it may take a while before either of us gets back out into the field. I think Hughes might have some chains in mind, just in case." He tried to throw some humor in to lighten things up. Peter was never one for emotional situations so he must be feeling very uncomfortable.

"I'm counting on that, partner. And if he has any chains, then I expect to you be chained right there with me." Peter didn't hesitate or back down, he was accepting the situation.

"You must have been worried about me. Normally you'd be threatening me with prison if I pulled such a stunt." He almost referenced the emotional aspect of what was happening but decided it was probably wiser to keep anything he noticed to himself on that front.

"Don't get me wrong, that's still on the table. I'd rather visit you in an orange jumpsuit for a few years than see you planted six feet under. What I'd like most though is to be able to continue working with you. So, how about you dial down those heroics? I appreciate you saving my life, but I can't take that if it's at the expense of yours.

Some prices are just not worth paying."

There was shiver and some shaking to his voice so things must have gone very badly for him as well. He'd traumatized his friend.

Squeezing Peter's hand, he brought his attention back to the present. "I'll dial it down if you avoid getting into trouble. If we just avoid getting stuck in dangerous situations then no one needs to get hurt."

"Now that's a plan I can get behind," Peter agreed as he reached up to wipe his face clear. He wasn't going to mention the tears, but he'd clearly felt them.

Choosing a handy time to check on them, a nurse entered the room and noticed that he was awake. Shooing Peter back to his bed, she began checking him over and asking her questions.

Answering the general questions as best he could, Neal knew most of them, but he had to be general on some.

To his surprise, he learned that he'd technically died several times not only in the field but also on the operating table.

No wonder Peter was so torn up about it!

When the medical staff had done their things and the doctor and nurses left him alone, he knew he wasn't going to remain awake for long, but he wanted to throw some last reassurance at Peter before he went back to sleep.

"You can downplay your condition and what you went through, but I know that it was life-threatening and that you gave everyone a scare. However, I also know that I probably did as well since this wasn't a cakewalk either. But Peter, when those nightmares come up, I want you to remember that I'm alive, that I'm recovering, and that I'll be alright. Okay?"

He'd also be remembering that Peter was alive and recovering because he'd also have his own nightmare material to contend with.

Peter was sitting on his bed watching him closely.

"I know; I've been working on fixing those memories in my brain to counter the nightmares. Still, seeing and hearing you will help. Let me know if you need anything, I don't want you fighting any nightmares either."

Yawning as he drifted off, he was losing his battle to stay awake, but he wasn't quite ready to give in yet. "I remember you sitting over me in concern, the sound of your voice, the feeling of your hand on my shoulder... I've been fixing memories too."

With that, he lost the battle, but at least he'd been able to see his friend reassuring himself that he was okay and he'd been able to reassure his friend that he was going to be alright as well.

Things weren't repaired, but they had a start. Then the world went fuzzy again as he lost his focus to think and fell asleep.

Yawning and stretching, he leaned back in his hospital bed.

There was still some pulling from where he'd been shot again, but his injuries were well on their way to healing.

"Ready to get out of here?" Peter questioned as he walked into the room. He was still walking gingerly from his own injuries, but since he'd been in for a checkup, it made sense to pick him up while he was in.

"Probably about as much as you were. Hey, how was your checkup?" He shifted to sit on the side of the bed for getting up while getting a look at Peter.

His friend looked pretty good to him, but he was only getting a general look at the man. The doctor would have gotten a far more detailed look into his health.

Squinting, Peter puckered his lips as he looked at him. "Are you worried about me?"

Arching a brow at him, Neal could also play that game.

"Nah, I just want to make sure I won't need to take any more bullets any time soon. This isn't fun." And it never was, but he wasn't going to say anything about that to Peter.

Frowning, his friend clearly didn't like the reference to him taking bullets for him. He certainly wouldn't appreciate knowing that he'd been shot to death, twice, or any of the other things that had happened to him during his work in the CIA.

"Come on, Peter. You know what I mean." He tried to soften the situation but knew that Peter had been there so there was no way he'd manage to downplay his recent injuries.

"Don't you ever do that again!" Here came the lecture... "Neal, we're partners, we're supposed to work together. I don't want you to play the selfless hero jumping in front of bullets."

Sitting back for the full rant, he let Peter have a go at getting it out of his system. Sure, it wouldn't be the first or the last rant, but at least it would be one that was more appropriate than telling him not to be a criminal. The selfless hero at least applied to him. He was an agent and he'd died for his country twice and his friend a third time... just counting the times in general, not the fact that he'd had to be revived more than once each round.

When Peter finally settled down, he just glanced up at him. "Are you done?"

Turning a little red, Peter put his hands on his hips rearing back to let him have it again.

Since Peter didn't need to stress himself with his own injuries still in the process of healing, he smiled and held up his hand. "I get it Peter, but it looks like you could use a break so how about you sit down and breathe for a few minutes? You're looking a little red in the face right now."

Huffing, Peter took him up on the offer of a seat as he gestured toward the mattress beside him. Sitting down, the agent still wasn't in a good mood, but at least he wasn't raising his voice anymore.

Before Peter could start up again, he put his arm across his shoulder and leaned into his friend. "Welcome back, Peter. I've missed this."

Breathing deeper than he'd done in months, he knew it was because his friend had forgiven him.

Sliding his arm around Neal in return, he smiled.

"Thanks. I've missed this too."

Thank you, everyone, for reading, reviewing/commenting, and leaving kudos :D

Here are the votes for my next posting. Since we have a tie, please let me know which story you'd like to see next, either "Junior" or "Cute Creative Concepts." If the tie remains by next weekend, I'll roll a die and see which one goes first.

Junior: II

Twins versus Twins: I

Cute Creative Concepts: II