10 - Vital Signs
Neal and Mozzie peered around the edge of the corridor corner before quickly jumping back as a janitor appeared. The bin he was pushing was filled to the brim with papers and documents, and they shared a knowing look.
"Looks like a waste of some perfectly good files".
Neal nodded and waited for the man to disappear into another room before making his move.
"Alright, I'm going in".
Mozzie quickly made his way over to the spare janitor's uniform while he ducked into Dr Powell's office.
The room was empty, as expected, and Neal wasted no time in flicking through every paper he could get his hands on to check for the list of names they needed. The desk turned out to be empty, the files on the seat were useless, and even his laptop was pointless, as he didn't have enough time to try and hack the password. It wasn't until he picked up the man's briefcase and flicked it open that he found the papers he needed.
"There we go" Neal muttered, flipping to the next page, "Every donor on here is a major player in this city".
He only had a few minutes to look through the names before a woman's voice came over the speakers.
"Paging security to Dr Powell's office. Paging security to Dr Powell's office".
Andddd that was his cue to go.
Quickly grabbing a pen, Neal wrote a quick message to Peter at the top of the page.
Jimmy Burger.
It would have to be enough.
Rushing to the fax machine, he quickly slid it in place and thanked whatever deity out there that he'd memorised all of the Burke's contact details long ago. It didn't mean that he was going to tell his boss that he was listed as Neal's emergency contact number, but the information did come in handy from time to time.
The page had barely started moving before the door was shoved open and two aggressive looking men in white coats burst in.
"Hey, hey! Stop that fax!" one of them ordered, grabbing him by the arm and slamming him against the wall.
"Don't move!"
Neal winced as the page was ripped from the machine.
"I'm borrowing Dr Powell's faze machine" He tried, knowing the lie was pointless.
"Come here!" the man snapped, shoving him towards the nearest seat.
He quickly put up a fight, not liking how the two men looked more like thugs than they did security guards.
"I was just borrowing his machine, I swear! My own one broke and-"
"A likely story. Sit down".
He was tossed at the black chair, but leapt back up immediately.
"Hey, fellas, come on, we all work here-"
"I said sit down!"
He didn't expect the nasty right hook to the jaw.
As a result, it all but flattened him.
Neal staggered backwards, vision temporarily whitening out, head reeling and balance thrown. He collapsed back against the couch and took a few precious seconds to reorientate himself.
They were definitely thugs.
He slowly straightened up as the so-far silent guard tore up the fax, binned in, and then turned back to the ringleader for his next orders.
The shorter man stared at Neal for a moment, and he shot him a charming grin.
"Get the trolly" He glared, "And make it quick".
The taller man nodded once, and left.
Neal sat up and blocked out the throbbing in his jaw. A quick swipe of his tongue revealed all teeth still intact, and asides from a split lip, he was unharmed. Thug Number One had vanished, which was good for him, but Thug Number Two was currently smirking which was very very bad.
"I'm only going to ask you this once" He said, stalking forward, "Who. Are. You?"
"I… I'm here for Dr Westlake. I- I brought in a patient, the nephew of the mayor, actually, very hush hush, in fact if you ask the receptionist, she'll collaborate-"
This time, he did see the punch flying his way.
Unfortunately, he didn't move fast enough to avoid it.
Neal gasped as the man's fist drove right into his stomach, and he jerked forward, automatically bending in two to try and soften the blow.
The guard was having none of it, and grabbed a fistful of hair to force him to straighten up again. Neal had barely caught his breath before another slap was delivered, this one managing to skin his cheek as the man's ring was slammed into him.
"Let's try this again, shall we?"
He choked and spluttered and tried not to collapse.
"I'd really rather not".
The thug yanked his head back and Neal felt hot blood trickle down his face.
"I won't ask a second time, kid. Who the hell are you?"
"... Well, you know, that's actually twice now that you asked, so-"
He was definitely expecting the next punch.
The man managed to grab his doctor's coat and yank it down, effectively trapping his arms behind his back as he lay hit after hit after hit. By the time Neal managed to detangle himself, both his head and chest were aching and it hurt to breathe. Hel gasped for air that just wasn't coming, and could have cried in relief as he heard footsteps coming back down the hall. The idea was for Mozzie to get himself out as quickly as possible and then for Neal to follow, but he'd diverted from plans before, so maybe he had this time too and had realised what was happening and rushed back to save him and-
The door was pushed open as Thug Number One arrived, pulling a gurney in after him.
Neal closed his eyes and prayed to god that Peter had gotten the fax on time.
The shorter man smirked, delivered one final slap that sent him sprawling on his side on the couch, before making his way over to the desk. Picking up the phone, he hit a few buttons, and waited to speak.
"... It's me".
Neal could just about hear the man on the other end of the line, even as the taller of the two hefted him up and dropped him unceremoniously on the trolly.
"Why are you calling?"
He tried to roll off the other side, but his head was spinning and he wasn't quick enough.
"We have a problem".
Two strong arms pinned him in place and before he knew it, his wrists were handcuffed to the metal bars on either side of the gurney.
"What kind of problem?"
Thug Number Two raised his eyes and scowled at Neal.
"An intruder. Some kid broke into the hospital. He was in your office".
"Who is he?"
"He won't say. But he has some kind of tracker on his ankle" He explained, "And he was going through your files".
The other guard finished securing his ankles, and double checked the locks on his arms.
"We figured you'd want to know before we involved the authorities".
Neal snorted.
Yea right. And have to explain to the authorities how his face got bruised up? He didn't think so.
"He's probably one of Westlake's patients escaped from the third floor. I'm on my way. Hold him until I arrive".
Neal subtly rattled the cuff around his right wrist to see if he could get some leeway.
"It would be best if you calm him down".
Oh boy.
"Understood".
He didn't like the sound of that.
Thug Number One went back to the door and disappeared for a moment, before returning with a mean looking nurse who was-
Who was holding an insanely massive injection.
Thug Number Two grinned.
Neal gulped.
"This is to help you relax" She said, jabbing the needle into his elbow.
Neal groaned and tried to block out the pain thrumming through his entire body.
"I hope there's something fun in there, Nurse Ratched".
Closing his eyes, he focused on his breathing, before glancing down at his arm as his thoughts began to get fuzzy.
Just what the hell had she given him?
Peter strode into the hospital reception area, furious at Neal, terrified of his wife, and so very much incredibly annoyed that everyone was against him today.
Mostly at Neal, though.
"Can I help you?" the woman behind the desk asked as he glanced around.
"Yea, uh- Oh, there she is. Melissa!"
Perfect timing.
"Dr Tannenbaum" She said, surprisef, "You're early".
"I couldn't wait to see you".
Think of El, think of El, think of El.
"Well, I'm flattered" She replied, coming down the stairs to meet him half way, "But this really isn't a good time. If you don't mind waiting until this evening?"
"I couldn't wait".
He'd already said that. Damnit.
Thankfully, the sound of a phone ringing distracted her.
"Excuse me, hello?"
Perfect timing, again.
Peter quickly ducked behind her and made his way up the stairs behind two people in lab coats. Leaving them t the top of the steps, he silently crept down the hallway.
"Neal? Neal?"
The room was empty.
"Two lovers kissed, and the world stood still".
What the…
"Still. Still!"
He continued down the hall.
STILL! Still".
Was that… Neal?
"That was nature's way!"
Peter quickly ducked into what looked to be a doctor's office, as well as the source of the singing.
In the centre of the room, tied down to a trolly, was a bruised and bloody Neal.
"Oh my god".
"HIGH on a…"
Peter took a cautious step forward.
"What did they do to you?"
"Hey buddy!"
"Neal" He greeted slowly, letting the door shut.
"Hi!"
"Hey".
He quickly walked over and gently tilted Neal's head to get a better look at the injuried.
"HIGH-"
"Hey, shh!" Peter interrupted, "Shh, shh!"
Glancing down, he saw that the cuffs were locked.
"Alright, we have to get you out of these restraints".
"Oh, you mean these?" Neal asked, lifting his hands, "Whaaat?"
The restraints fell off.
"I never met a lock I couldn't pick… Except my anklet".
Thank god for small mercies.
"Alright, come on" Peter said, throwing his arm over his shoulders.
"I don't know what it is abo- you're strong".
"Yea" He replied, wishing he could film this but also wishing that this wasn't an illegal organ harvesting hosptial so that someone could tell him if the conman's cheekbone was broken.
"You're strong" He repeated.
Oh boy.
Steadying him, Peter swung the man's legs over the side of the bed.
"One-"
"Oh I got it!" Neal interrupted, "I got it".
"Yea, come on".
He steadied himself.
"I got it!"
Then fell flat on his face.
… This was going to be a long day.
A few minutes later and Peter was half carrying half dragging Neal down the hallway as he started to sing again.
"Shh, shh, shh!" He shushed, pushing open the door to a conference room. The second he let go, the younger man hit the carpet once more.
"Easy, come on".
Once he was sitting upright and Peter forcibly blocked out the sight of blood on that strange bluey-grey floor, he frowned at him.
"I cannot believe you. Why would you do something like this?!"
"Peter, I've done sooo many worse things that you don't even know about".
"Just shut up!" He panted, before suddenly reconsidering, "Like what things?"
Neal stared up at him with a bruised eye, bloody cheeks, and a busted lip and grinned.
"You remember the Antioch Manuscripts?"
"You took those?" He asked in disbelief, "How?!"
"Carrier pigeons".
Peter sighed.
"Think about it" He said, tapping the side of his head, before wincing as he touched a particularly vicious looking bruise.
"Who cares, Peter?" Neal continued, "It's not what's important. It's not about money, it's about people".
"Good" He snarked, "You're gonna be spending a lot of quality time with people in orange jumpsuits once I get you out of here".
His face fell, "Alright... I'm going down once they see those security tapes of me breaking in here".
Peter mentally cursed and looked away.
"There's surveillance cameras?"
He turned back as the conman tapped his leg.
"Hey, before I go back, you should know this. Out of all the people in my life, Mozzie, even Kate, you know… you're the only one".
The drugs were talking again.
"I'm the only one what?"
"You're the only one" He repeated, "The only person in my life I trust".
What a fucking time for that particular revelation.
Peter stared at him for a minute, taking in the split lip and the dried blood and the black and blue blemishes that already marred that terribly young face.
Neal seemed surprised at himself for what he'd just said, and let his head hang low to avoid Peter's gaze, acting for all the world like a scared child.
Fuck.
Was he really going to let this happen?
Was he really going to send this- this kid back to prison? For trying to help him? Yea, the way he went about it was wrong, and Neal had broken more laws that he would ever know of, he'd literally just admitted it himself, but…
But his heart was in the right place.
It always had been.
Peter reached up, ran a hand through those dark curls and sighed.
Fuck.
He couldn't let this happen.
Neal zoned in and out of reality as time itself eluded him.
He remembered breaking into the hospital with Mozzie, finding his way to Dr Powell's office, and then trying to send something to… Peter? But that made no sense because Peter was here. Or, at least, he was. Used to be. Had been. Whatever.
The point was, he remembered singing and something about restraints and then stumbling through glass hallways in a terrifying tall building and then-
Then he found himself sitting on weird bluish coloured carpet in a conference room who's table probably cost more than his rent for an entire year. He'd said something to Peter, and it was definitely Peter and not some strange hallucation like how he'd envisioned Andy Williams which had led to the singing to begin with and-
He'd always liked that song.
Neal sluggishly looked up as Peter suddenly reappeared with a pair of handcuffs in his hands and a wheely chair at his feet. He tied his left arm to the metal legs of the seat and gave him a stern look.
"Don't pick this!"
Neal nodded and collapsed to the side, resting on his other arm.
He wanted to sing again, but Peter had shushed him before so maybe he shouldn't.
He also wanted some water cause whatever Nurse Ratched had given him was seriously making his mouth dry.
Or maybe that was also because of the singing.
Either way, there was singing involved and these handcuffs were preventing that.
Neal slowly straightened up, leaning back against the wooden cabinets, and stared down at the cuffs.
"I could slip you off, that wouldn't be picking, but..."
But Peter wouldn't see it that way.
He sighed, and his skin prickled uncomfortably with dried blood. First thing he needed to do was get water, but secondly, he needed a shower. Or maybe he'd just combine both and drink the shower water. Can you drink water? He didn't know, but he wanted to find out. He quite liked showers. Loved them, even. And, hey, speaking of love...
"Love is a many splendored thing…"
He turned as the door opened once more and Peter came back in. He crouched down next to him and held up a black box.
"What is that?"
"Surveillance tape".
He couldn't believe it.
"Peter?"
The older man undid his cuffs and pulled him to his feet.
"Let's go".
"You stole that... for me?"
"Yea, it's a regular Kodak moment".
Neal didn't know what Kodak was, and from the corner of his eye he saw Andy Williams shake his head too, but it didn't matter because Peter had taken care of it.
Peter had made sure he wouldn't go back to prison.
He really did trust him.
