Diana arrived at the hospital before the ambulance and immediately requested to speak to the resident in charge. When Caffrey had freaked out, by his reaction to the two paramedics alone, she knew what they needed to do. So as soon as the situation calmed and, following some serious negotiating with Peter Neal grudgingly agreed to a trip to the hospital, filling Jones in on her plan she made a quick exit.
It was with no joy she made the call, instructing the specialist nurse to complete a forensic exam immediately and signing the consent forms herself. Despite the many times she'd threatened Caffrey with bodily harm, it was always in jest. The kind of quasi friendly cruelty she'd inflict on a younger brother if she had one. She didn't want to hurt him, but there was no way she was going to force Peter into signing the forms. And while Neal was a ward of the state in Peter's custody, that's exactly what he'd be obligated to do. If Neal found out it was Peter's choice to put him through the hours long invasive procedure there was a risk the fragile friendship they've been maintaining these past few years would be irreparably broken. Neal needed Peter more than he needed her right now and she could live with the consequences just fine. At the end of the day, her allegiance lay with Peter and she'd do anything to protect him.
"This isn't standard procedure." The nurse spoke as Diana added her signature to the required forms. "There's time to wait for the victim to give consent."
"Neal Caffrey is a convicted felon serving his sentence in the custody of the FBI. The choice isn't his to make." Diana had stated, glaring the woman down.
Sitting in chairs, reviewing her conduct even Diana can't pretend any longer that she's not affected by her decision. To stop the maelstrom of emotion bubbling inside from taking hold she reconciles with herself that the drugs still coursing through Caffrey's system will help take the sting away, making the whole thing seem more like a dream than reality. With any luck he'll sleep through the whole thing and won't have a clue.
"Any news?" Jones appears suddenly, sliding into the empty chair on her left.
Diana blinks, clears her self-indulgent thoughts and focuses on his face. "Peter's still talking with the doctor, but they completed the initial exam."
"And?"
"No rape." She lets that bit of good news settle before giving the rest. "But they can't rule out assault. Delaney in forensics is coming in to collect the evidence herself. She'll be discrete."
"That's good." Jones nods, taking it all in. "But we have a problem." His tone is calm and words proficient as he explains that the intel received through a member of Ruiz' team is that Benedict is aware they've raided his loft, which means their suspect – assuming it isn't Benedict himself – is also aware. "Based on what we know about this guy, I'm betting he isn't going to take too kindly to losing what he already considered his."
"What does the profile say?"
"That he'll try to reclaim his first choice of victim, and failing that he'll attempt to replace him as soon as possible." Jones takes a breath. "Add to that Benedict is certainly not going to sit around knowing there's a witness who could bring him down…"
"So, either way we've got to find this piece of shit soon or someone's going to die."
"Pretty much," Jones doesn't lose his cool professionalism. "I've already arranged for an additional agent to cover Caffrey while he's here, but-"
"But Benedict has contacts." Diana sighs. "We need to set a trap." The weight of another hefty decision laying on her shoulders was unwelcome but at least gave her something to do. "We leak Caffrey's location. Hopefully our suspect will make a mistake."
"Sounds good,"
"But?" She could hear the hesitation in his voice.
"You know Peter will never agree to use Caffrey as bait."
"Let me handle that…"
Diana presents Peter with her idea the second he steps through the double doors marked authorised personnel only.
"Boss," she calls him over. "You got yourself a hall pass?"
"He's making noise." Peter pushes back his jacket, hands to hips. "If we don't get out of here soon, I might strangle him."
It was as good a segue as any.
Diana explains her plan in detail. A plan Peter eventually agrees to and surprisingly doesn't question. Frankly she doubts he could think straight if he tried right now, judging by his visible exhaustion and the stress showing clear as day on his face, but based on his easy assurance that she's got this, Diana presumes he's smart enough to know he's too close to make a logical decision. She just hopes the lack of questioning doesn't have anything to do with a potentially fragile mental state, otherwise they were all in big trouble.
.
"Hey," Jones appears and joins the pair, a tray of coffee's in hand. "How's he doing?"
"He's still not thinking straight, doesn't remember how he got here." Peter answers, reaching out and taking one of the proffered cups to hide the inappropriate smile breaking out on his face. "He thinks we thought he ran."
Jones raises his eyes to study the ceiling. "Not an unreasonable assumption. Considering the circumstances."
"Yeah." Peter nods, moving his gaze between the two of them before settling on a spot on the wall over Diana's shoulder. "Look I need to call El, let her know what's happening."
Jones sees the conflict in his eyes and rightly predicts what Peter's not asking. "I'll call her, and then the office, get an update."
"Good. Thanks Jones." He's already backing away towards the doors. To Diana's he says, "I'll get Neal ready. Let me know when we need to move, sooner the better. This asshole's not going to sit on his hands while there's a witness that can I.D him."
"We got it boss." Diana waves him off.
Peter's too focused on returning to Neal to fully express his gratitude for their efficiency. A feeling deep in his gut, uncomfortable and urgent is stirring and refusing to be settled. He wants to believe it's simply nerves due to leaving Neal alone for the first time so soon after finding him, but being separated just doesn't feel as safe as it should. Getting back to Neal is the only way to take the pain - and it is pain he's feeling right now - away.
But as soon as those green curtains are in sight, Peter doesn't have to pull them back to know that he's returning to an empty bed.
"Damnit Neal," Peter curses under his breath, staring at a bare mattress, sheets and hospital gown folded neatly on top.
Taking a few deep breaths, he steels himself and dashes out into the main corridor. Spying Agent Harrison, one of Ruiz's men, hovering down the hall, he assumes he's the guard detail Jones had told him about and marches straight up to him.
"Agent Burke." Harrison greets, tone friendly and relaxed.
"Where's Neal?" Peter barks, his limited patience extending way past the kid and his ability to create trouble when none can freely find him.
Harrison looks takeback by the tone, but quickly catches on that now is not the time for generalities or chit chat.
"He's in the bathroom." Harrison nods at the door he's facing.
Face like thunder Peter spins on his heels and throws open the door with a bang.
"Neal!"
"Peter?" Comes a light-hearted and confused response, quickly followed by the flushing a cistern. "Everything okay?" He asks stepping out of the last cubical and heading towards the sink.
If Peter hadn't been seeing red, so worked up at having his instruction ignored, he'd have noticed the stark redness to the kid's eyes and taken in the stench of vomit in the air.
"No, everything is not okay." Peter spits. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Neal stares at him, bent slightly over the sink, hands doused in water and soap.
"I thought I was using the bathroom." He shoots back, giving Peter an incredulous look like he thought he'd lost his mind.
"I told you to stay put!" Peter screams at him, cheeks burning fire. "I ordered you to stay where I left you!"
"But Peter?" Neal's eyes widen, begging to understand exactly what he's done wrong.
"Don't But Peter me." He bites, stepping forward and snatching the kid's arm before he can think twice about it.
If he saw the flash of fear or noticed Neal's quick scramble backwards to get away Peter doesn't let his mind process it. Instead he proceeds to drag him out, back down the corridor past Harrison and all but throws him onto the bed, pulling the flimsy plastic curtain all the way around them like a shield.
Hours later, during the silent car ride home, Neal sulking, safe and secure in his back seat, Peter reflects on his own behaviour. He over reacted and he knows it. Sure, before leaving Neal to check in with Diana he told him in no uncertain terms to stay put, but did he really mean forgoing all basic needs? Not even at his most stubborn and controlling would he expect that. On good days Peter had the patience of a saint with Caffrey, but today wasn't a good day – not by a long shot - and with Neal behaving like a brat every time someone tried to help him, the five-minute break into the waiting room did nothing to douse Peter's ever-growing irritation with him. That being said, no matter how snappy or obstinate Neal was being, Peter couldn't help but feel he had a right to be.
So before turning off the FDR onto Brooklynn Bridge he decides it's time to swallow his pride.
"Neal," he waits patiently, until the dark-hair lifts ever so slightly in what Peter believes is reluctant compliance. "I'm sorry."