Something was poking him in the side and it was getting really annoying. How was he supposed to sleep when – Oh, that really hurts. Ow.

"Ugh..." He twitched and the pain magnified tenfold. It felt like his side was being ripped open. An embarrassing whimper escaped his lips.

"Oh, Neal, honey... here."

There was movement to his right. Elizabeth? He cracked one eye open and saw her there, fiddling with something he couldn't identify through his lashes. Neal saw her hand approaching but still flinched in surprise when he felt it on his cheek.

"'liz-"

"Shhhhh. It's okay. Don't try to talk. It should feel better soon." She was carding her fingers through his hair now, but it was actually kind of nice...

The next time he opened his eyes it was his landlady beside him.

"June..."

She smiled at him, patting his hand.

"Good to see you awake, dear. Try to stay still – they had to put a chest tube in."

"Wha-?" He looked down, not investigating further when he saw the tube coming out of his hospital gown.

"Actually," Neal looked up to see a doctor coming through the doorway, "if he's careful and has the energy, it's good for him to move around a little bit – just so long as the tube remains free."

He picked up the chart at the end of the bed and examined it before taking a close look at his patient.

"Hello, Mr. Caffrey; I'm Dr. Klaen." He looked back at the chart for a moment. "You seem to be doing well; I see no need to put you on a respirator. How are you feeling?"

He vaguely remembered his chest hurting earlier, but nothing seemed amiss this time.

"Alright."

The doctor nodded.

"You'll probably be on bed rest for another day or so before we move you to a chair and start your respiratory therapy. Nothing too involved, probably just some deep breathing – though you may get an incentive spirometer to help with that. If all goes well you could be home in a week and fully recovered in three to four months."

Neal blinked, not quite conscious enough to take everything in. Dr. Klaen smiled.

"I can see you're tired so I'll leave you to rest." He replaced the chart at the foot of the bed. "Press the call button if you need anything."

Neal was asleep before the doctor reached the doorway.


"Peter..." Neal jerked awake to find it was nighttime, gingerly reaching up to wipe the sleep from his eyes along with the memory of the nightmare he'd just had.

"Go back to sleep," mumbled the patient next to him – the first sign he'd had that anyone was on the other side of the curtains.

He saw a pitcher and cup beside his bed but reaching made his wound pull and his battered muscles twitched uncomfortably. Feeling slightly guilty at disturbing the other person, he pressed the call button and waited for the nurse to arrive.

"Could you help me drink?" Normally he'd be ashamed at his uselessness, but for the moment the drugs were making him feel pretty okay with the world.

"Of course." She poured him some water and helped him slowly sip. "Would you like something to eat? The kitchen is closed but I could get you some broth from the coffee machine."

It didn't sound appealing in the least, but he was hungry.

"Please," he tried for a winning smile that must have been at least partially successful as the nurse winked at him when she said she'd "be right back".

He managed to finish off all of the "chicken soup" that reminded him of instant ramen without the noodles along with another cup of water before thanking the nurse and bidding her good night.

"Now shut up already," his neighbor muttered, shifting a bit before falling silent.

Neal sighed, brooding in silence until falling asleep once more.