Everything Old is new Again
By Ldynwaitin
Chapter Eleven
Sullivan in the bedroom with a knife
Once Nolano saw Neal on the floor, he froze. He didn't know what to do, he just stood there staring at him. He never expected this to happen. How could this happen? Not under his watch. As he heard Neal moan, it woke him from his reverie. Neal was hurt, he needed to take care of him. He placed his arms under Neal's back and knees and gently lifted him. He lay him on his bed. Tearing Neal's shirt open he found a bleeding wound in his shoulder and blossoming bruises on his face, and abdomen.
"I…I need to stop the bleeding," he whispered. "Don't worry," he told Neal, but more to himself. "I'll be back, I promise."
He sprinted out of the room, reaching the stairs he raced down them. He knew that the downstairs bathroom had a medical kit. Grabbing it, as he hurried back to Neal's room, he met Albert walking down the stairs.
"What's wrong?" Albert asked him. He could clearly see the distress on his face.
Without stopping, Nolano quickly said, "Mr. Caffrey was attacked."
Albert didn't hesitate, he was at his heels as they ran up the stairs. Nolano rushed into Neal's room. He opened the medical kit and searched for the bandages, he needed to stop the bleeding.
"What the hell happened?" Albert frantically shouted. He saw Neal lying unconscious on his bed with a bleeding wound in his shoulder.
"Sullivan happened," Nolano practically growled.
"Oh my God. Please don't tell me that it will affect his painting."
Nolano's anger grew. Albert didn't care that Neal was hurt, only that he might not be able to produce more paintings.
"That stupid son of a bitch," Albert cursed. "If he ruined it for us, I'll…"
"Don't worry," Albert heard Sullivan say from behind. Spinning around he saw Sullivan standing behind him, his hand was wrapped in a white handkerchief. "He's not going to die. But when he wakes up, he's going to regret what he did to me."
"What the hell did you do, Sullivan?" Albert nearly screamed at the top of his lungs. "Neal already filled an order, we have more coming. You've ruined everything because of your sadistic temper."
Sullivan angrily fisted his hand, the blood on his handkerchief spread. "The only reason why I'm here is because of him. I had to leave the city because that punk threw his hat out of the tent. The FBI has it, they're going to find my fucking DNA on it. They'll figure out that I've been a part of this from the beginning." Sullivan angrily pointed a finger at Neal. "I had the rest of my fucking life planned. Now it's gone because of him."
Nolano tried to contain his anger as he worked on Neal. Blood was still oozing from the deep cut in his shoulder. He used a gauze to press down on the wound. He had no idea how bad Neal's injury was.
"You vindictive idiot," Albert ranted. "If he can't paint anymore, I don't give a damn who you know, I'll personally cut your gut out." Albert pulled the handle on his cane. A sharp blade slid out of the cane.
Sullivan opened his jacket and pulled out his stiletto. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Albert. I ain't stupid, I know where to cut a man with this. Been doing it for years. Where I stuck him, he's only going to feel pain, a lot of it. Trust me, he'll be able to still paint. Like I said I ain't that stupid." He pushed his knife back in its sheath.
"He'd better be," Albert said as he slid the blade back into the cane. He turned his attention back to Neal. "Nolano, will he be all right?"
"I do not know, he needs a doctor to look after it, as well as check to see what else Mr. Sullivan may have done to him."
Albert's eyes moved in a calculating manner. "We can call Dr. Herdrich. He's an old friend of my father. He won't tell anyone what happened here. He's always been discreet about this kind of thing. I'll call him now." Albert angrily glared at Sullivan. "You couldn't just leave it alone, could you? You'd better not try anything else."
"I'm not afraid of you," Sullivan said. "You forget, I've been an agent for the FBI for most of my life. I know how to handle people like you. Since we started this little partnership, I've recorded everything we've said and done. I have it all hidden safely away. If anything happens to me, you and your crazy sister is going to spend the rest of your lives in jail." He patted his shoulder where his gun was holstered. "And don't even think of sticking me with that thing at night. I can sleep with one finger on the trigger and one eye open."
Albert took a threatening step closer to Sullivan. "If this happens again, get used to it. Leave Neal alone, unless you're perfectly happy with what we've given you so far. If you're not, then listen to this, the painting he finished yesterday will give us a quarter of a million dollars. That's just a drop in the bucket of what he can make for us. Use your head, Sullivan. Don't cut off your nose to spite your face."
Sullivan was surprised to see Albert acting so aggressive. It was a side of him he never saw coming. He stared at Neal laying on his bed. The gauze Nolano was pressing on Neal's shoulder was soaked with his blood. When he woke up, he was going to be in a lot of pain, exactly what he wanted. He was happy with how it turned out, for now. "Don't worry, I'll leave him alone, just needed to make a point."
"Good, you've made it, it's done. Move on. Sit back and wait for the money to come in." He looked at Neal, "Just be happy my sister isn't here. Nolano, I'll call Dr. Herdrich. Take care of him until he gets here."
Albert quickly hurried down the hallway. As Nolano pressed down on Neal's bleeding shoulder, he heard a chuckle from Sullivan. "What's his sister going to do to me, drink me to death?"
Nolano knowingly smiled. "I assure you, she can do more than drink you to death. All of her marriages did not end in divorce." His smile dropped when Sullivan left.
He'd never been so angry. He had one job, guarding Neal. He completely failed at that. With Neal's eyes closed, he saw the face of the young man that entered the house what seemed a lifetime ago.
Once Neal asked him what he did in his youth, he begged him to teach him everything he knew. As with Peintre, he was a fast learner. It didn't take him long to excel at picking a pocket. He taught him every card trick that he knew. When he left, he missed him as much as Peintre.
Even though he was unconscious, Nolano spoke to Neal until the Doctor arrived. "Don't worry, Neal," he whispered. "I swear to you, I will kill him if he touches you again."
Dr. Herdrich arrived alone an hour later carrying a backpack. He was a tall thin man with long grey hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. His most distinguished characteristic was a large bushy moustache. He briskly walked into the room. Seeing Neal on the bed he shook his head and quickly moved to his side.
Lilith was now awake. As Herdrich examined Neal, she and Albert silently watched from the doorway. Nolano was thankful that Neal was unconscious while the Doctor worked on his wound. The pain would have been excruciating. He helped the Doctor as he cleaned the wound and stitched it closed. Moving Neal to sit up, Nolano held him steady as Herdrich wrapped a bandage around his shoulder.
Laying him back on the bed, Dr. Herdrich then began touching Neal's side. Already the bruising was growing darker.
As he pressed his side Neal woke up with a start. Neal was at first confused, Nolano was holding him down and a gray-haired old hippie with a giant moustache was poking him in the ribs. He moaned as he tried to sit up.
"Mr. Caffrey, you must hold still, the Doctor is trying to help you," Nolano explained.
"Listen to me, young man," Dr. Herdrich sternly said. "You were injured and took a beating. I patched up your shoulder, but I need to check if your ribs may be cracked. Now lie still!"
Neal silently nodded. The doctor then continued to examine him. Neal saw a large bandage wrapped around his shoulder. "How bad? The last thing I remember was Sullivan stabbing me."
The Doctor raised his hand and made a fist. "Do this with that hand." He tapped Neal's left hand. Neal raised his hand as high as he could and fisted it.
"Very good, no nerve damage." Neal groaned as the Doctor continued examining him. "You have a deep knife wound in your shoulder. I've fixed it up as best as I could. Never worked on humans before, mostly dogs and horses."
Getting a concerned look on Neal's face, he laughed and said, "Joking! I have a doctors license, best correspondence course on the internet." Bending over, he said, "Another joke."
He resumed poking and prodding him. "The wound will heal in time, you just need to be careful not to do anything physical that could break the stitches."
"Right," Neal said. His head sunk into the pillow. "Guess I can cancel that tennis game I was never going to PLAY!," he shouted. He bolted to sit up as the doctor pressed on a sore point.
The Doctor slowly pushed him to lay down. Standing up, he smiled down at him. "No broken ribs. From the timbre of your voice, your lungs are working fine, but I believe your ribs are bruised. You're going to be very sore for a while, young man. May have some trouble breathing as well. How do you feel?"
Neal flinched as he took in a deep breath. "I'm fine, breathing is overrated."
Herdrich chuckled as he gently squeezed Neal's good shoulder, "There you go, laughter is the best medicine." The doctor searched inside his backpack and pulled out a vial and a needle.
"But I've always found this will work better." He used the needle to extract the liquid inside the bottle. He injected Neal in his shoulder with what was in the syringe. "That will dull your pain for a while."
He then pulled out two bottles and placed them on Neal's nightstand. "I want you to take these. The oval ones are for pain, the round ones are for a possible infection."
Neal smiled, "So the oval ones are my friend."
"Very good friends but be sure to take the round ones too. I tried to clean out the wound as best as possible under the conditions. Just stay here, rest and keep still for several days to allow the bruising and wound to heal. I'll be back in a couple days to check on you."
"Thank you, Doctor," Albert said from the doorway. "You've always been a good friend."
"Yes," Herdrich tersely replied. "To your father." He looked at Neal. "Take care, Mr. Caffrey." He patted him on his good shoulder. "You're young and strong you should heal fast."
Closing his backpack, he began to leave the room. Stopping by Albert, he angrily hissed, "I don't know what the hell happened here, but Peintre would never have allowed this. I only came here out of respect for him. I'm glad I did, he often spoke of his apprentice, Neal Caffrey. I finely have a face to a name."
"Doctor, no one must know he is here," Albert insisted.
"You don't have to tell me, Albert. I've been a friend of your father long enough to know how this works. What happens here, stays here." He looked back at Neal. He saw his bright blue eyes smile his thanks for helping him. "He seems like a nice young man, just like Peintre said. I'll be back in two days. Oh, and if anything happens to you and your lovely sister? Don't bother calling me." He pointed ahead. "I know my way out."
As Herdrich was working on Neal, Lilith never took her eyes off of him. At first, she was shocked to see he was hurt. But as the Doctor examined him, she found she began to enjoy hearing his cries of pain.
"He's right, Albert, this never should have happened. Everything was going fine. Neal gave us a new painting." Albert saw a fire in her eyes. "If Sullivan had hurt him in a way that Neal would never be able to paint again, well you know how I am when I am sober."
"Intimately," Albert said, as he rubbed an old wound on his arm. "But you heard the Doctor, Lily. Neal is going to recover. His hands are fine, he can still paint. Just this morning I received three new orders for paintings. We have the two finished ones already sold. I'm sure Neal will be able to resume painting in a few days. This is just a small setback."
"A small setback?" Lilith said through clenched teeth.
Lilith poked Albert in the chest. "This is not small. Sullivan got into his room and could have killed him, like he did those people in the robberies. No Neal, no more paintings! I am not going to lose what we had when father was alive."
"We didn't Lily, he's hurt but perfectly capable of continuing to give us the paintings we need."
"Be that as it may, that's not the end of our troubles, dear brother. Sullivan is a fugitive now. The FBI will be looking for him. I want more men hired. This house is to be under constant guard night and day. And if Sullivan tries anything with Neal again, I don't care what he has on us, he will not live another day to spend any of our money."
Albert tapped the top of his cane. "On that point, we both agree, sister." He slowly stepped into the room. Neal was surprised to actually see a look of remorse on Albert's face. "I'm sorry, Neal. I never expected this to happen."
Lilith angrily shook her head. "I knew that Sullivan was dangerous, but this is something I never anticipated that he would do. I'll have a talk with him later."
Nolano stood protectively next to Neal's bed. "Do not worry," he bowed his head. "I promise, I will protect Mr. Caffrey with my life."
"I'm hiring more men to watch the house, Nolano," Lilith said. "Your sole duty now is to make sure this doesn't happen again. You're safe now, sweet Neal."
Even from where he lay, Neal could smell the alcohol on her breath. By the end of the evening, she wouldn't even remember what happened.
"Rest, Neal," Albert honestly said. "You don't have to worry about making any more paintings until you feel better."
Albert was about to turn to leave, he stopped when he heard Neal say, "There was something I wanted to ask." Neal painfully tried to sit up, Nolano helped him. "I was wondering if you've received any new requests for more paintings? Since I'm under doctor's orders to rest, I need something to keep my mind busy." Looking around he said, "No TV."
Neal's request surprised Albert. "Why uh, yes, I had three come in just this morning."
"Can I see them?" He held his hand out. Neal painted on an anxious look. He may be down, but he was not out.
Albert's eyes lit up with excitement. He had feared that Sullivan's attack would have put a damper on Neal's skill to paint. Something like that could affect him mentally as well as physically. Hearing him wanting to see a list of new paintings ordered almost had him forget about the attack, almost. He quickly reached into a pocket.
"I actually have three emails here, I printed them out this morning. I was going to show them to you later."
Neal's crazy idea was a long shot, but after Sullivan's attack he had to try. Copying old master's paintings required special pigments. If all the pieces fell into place, he could order a pigment that Peter could hopefully use to find him. All he needed to do now, was to order the right type of pigment.
