A/N: Sorry if I missed replying to your review last chapter; something odd happened with the review system and, while I got notifications, I couldn't view or respond to comments that were added during a large block of time.


"Neal... Neal, are you awake?"

Was he? Things were a little fuzzy, and he hadn't even opened his eyes yet.

"C'mon, Neal; I escaped prison, the least you can do is look at me."

Peter?

He tried to make a retort, but something stopped him. His body was definitely unhappy about whatever it was, but his mind wasn't quite to the point of grasping the situation yet. Still, that was definitely Peter staring at him.

"There you are. Don't try to talk yet – just listen to the nurse." Peter leaned back and a woman bent over him, smiling gently.

"Hey there, Neal. Your tube got clogged yesterday and we had to put you on a ventilator overnight, but we should be able to remove it today. I just need you to answer a few questions – blink twice for 'yes' and once for 'no', okay?"

Neal blinked twice.

"Great! Now, do you know where you are?"

Yes.

"Do you know why you're here?"

Yes.

"Are you feeling any pain?"

No. Huh. That was a nice change.

"Do you feel any insecurity about breathing on your own?"

No.

"Would you like to try?"

Yes!

"Good! Now, are you comfortable?"

He shifted a bit. Yes. As much as one could be in this situation.

"Okay. Try to relax – your friends have picked some music for you to listen to while we do this. As soon as I flip this switch, I want you to try to breathe normally. Are you ready?"

Yes.

Neal's lips twitched as the sound of Sinatra's voice wafted over him. Elizabeth's hand grasped his own and she gave him a wobbly smile.

"I'm flipping the switch now."

He waited for the 'click' and took as deep a breath as he could stand, remembering what had happened the last time he'd been awake. When nothing untoward happened he started breathing with more confidence. The tube didn't make it the best experience, but it could certainly be worse.

"You're doing well, Neal – feeling okay?"

Yes.

"Tired?"

No.

"Good! Just a few more minutes to go."

Neal lay there clutching Elizabeth's fingers as "Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive" played and the nurse documented his readings.

"There you are, all done. You were taking a lot of breaths on your own while you were out and your test went well so it looks like we can take it right out without having to worry about further weaning. Do you want to do that now?"

Yes!

"This may be uncomfortable, but try to stay calm and relaxed and it will be done before you know it. Ready?"

Yes!

"Okay, give me as strong a cough as you can."

Oh it was definitely uncomfortable. Peter's hand wrapped around Elizabeth's and his own and Neal's leg muscles went rigid as he resisted the urge to pull away from the nurse or tear the tube straight out. After the cough came several seconds of gagging; then it was over.

"All done! Would you like some ice chips to soothe your throat?"

"Yes, please." His voice was a little rough, but it was a small price to pay for living through the night.

The nurse handed him a cup.

"Make sure you let them melt in your mouth; don't swallow them whole. Once you've finished that you can go back to water. Got it?"

"Yeah; thanks." He favored her with his brightest smile and she couldn't help but return the gesture.

"I'll be right down the hall if you need me."

He waved as she took the vent out with her.

"So what, exactly, happened to me last night?" Neal began nursing the ice chips as the Burkes eyed one another for a moment before Peter began explaining.

"A clot broke loose in your chest and clogged the tube so the blood built up and collapsed your lung. They gave you a slightly bigger tube this time to keep it from happening again." He paused to collect himself. "You probably would have died if your neighbor hadn't called the nurse."

Said neighbor snorted, obviously having heard the conversation.

"Thanks, buddy," Neal called, smiling slightly as the guy grumbled "yeah, yeah" and rolled over so he faced away from the group.

For a few moments the room was silent apart from the gameshow music coming from the corner. Neal decided the best coarse was to simply behave as if everything were normal.

"Just so you know," he smirked, "it doesn't count as escaping if you weren't actually in prison to begin with."

Peter snorted, then grew serious.

"It's good to see you."

"Likewise."

There was an awkward silence until El pitched in.

"Honey, why don't you tell Neal what happened with the case?"

"Right." Peter shifted in his seat. "You up for hearing this now, Neal?"

"Do tell." He adjusted the bed so he was sitting up a bit straighter and could see them both more comfortably.

"Well, they woke James up this morning for his interrogation – he must have had a devil of a headache. We already had his confession and evidence of gunpowder residue on his hands, so there wasn't much he could say to get out of it. He did seem... upset that he had shot you – he doesn't know you survived."

Neal grunted noncommittally.

"Do you want us to keep it from him?"

He considered it for a moment.

"No." He might not be able to see the man as a father, and he was tempted to have this mark a complete break between them, but he still didn't want James to be saddled with the guilt of a murder he didn't quite commit. "It'll all come out in the trial anyway."

Peter nodded.

"We have enough to get him without you there, you don't have to-"

"I'll testify."

Peter hung his head, rubbing at his brow. Silence fell again but it was the agent who decided to lighten the mood this time.

"Things got pretty dramatic the last time you were in court."

"Yeah..." Neal smiled wistfully, "but that was hardly my fault."

"True... mostly."

A crowd of visitors arrived for another of the room's residents and Peter stood to offer them his chair.

"I've got to get back to the office. I might not be under arrest, but I still have to explain why I was wearing your anklet. Which reminds me – a marshal came in this morning and gave you a new one. He wasn't happy that Callaway hadn't informed them of the situation sooner. He found the security 'woefully insufficient' and would have cuffed you to the bed if it wasn't for a particularly assertive nurse. It's a wonder he didn't wheel your bed out and try to confine you in a supply closet."

"Too many resources in a supply closet," Neal explained, glancing at the bulge under his thin hospital blanket.

"Of course." Peter rolled his eyes. "Good thing he left you here, then."

"Peter," Neal reached out and caught his friend's arm. "Thank you."

Peter nodded.

"Thank you, Neal."