Thank you all very much for you support and want for this story to continue. It got me so jazzed up that I decided to write another chapter before Christmas, as a little present to you all. It's a bit short, but I think I've done an okay job on it, so please enjoy.


Waking up in a strange place is always unnerving and a little scary. But to Neal, it was terrifying. He hadn't a clue where he was. Wait, he did know, he could tell by the look, smell and defiantly smell, but what he didn't know was how he had gotten there. It had happened to him plenty of times before, but it still didn't stop him from getting worried. He was strapped to one of those machines that beeped a lot with his heartbeat, which at the moment was quickening a bit. They always freaked him out a bit, because he though that any second it would just go flat and he'd be dead. Stupid really, but it was enough to put him of. But the think that made him fell sick to his stomach was the needle stuck in the crook of his arm, directing some sort of chemical into his body. He hated needles. They where purposely designed to go inside you, which was never a good thing. And he hated the very thought of something begin pumped into his body. What was in the body stayed in the body, he didn't want or need anything else inside. Suddenly, he realised that his eyes where rapidly filling with tears, which spilt freely down his cheeks. He couldn't understand this. He knew that he was a crybaby, but he hadn't ever cried about just waking up somewhere strange.

Just then, a young nurse came into the room, and stared at him for half a second, as if in shock, before smiling brightly at him. This made him blush a little, before quickly wiping away the stray tears from his face. "Good morning sleepy head," she told him happily. Too happily. Almost sickly sweet. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, Ma'am," he mumbled politely. If there was one thing that his parents had taught him, it was manners. Neal couldn't help but notice that his voice sounded a little strange, but tried to shake it of, it was probably just his imagination. She came over to the end of his bed, and looked down at his chart before placing it back down, the smile never leaving her face.

"I'll just go get the doctor," she told him. "Don't go anywhere." With that she quickly left the room. The doctor entered not a few seconds later, walking over towards him.

"Nice to see you're awake, Mr. Caffrey," he told him, as he too picked up the chart, before scribbling something down on it and putting it back. "I'm Dr. Willow. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Sir," Neal told him politely, though not sure why he had to answer the same question twice. The doctor checked him over, looking at his eyes, mouth and even ears. Neal didn't like this part at all, but he didn't protest.

"We'll you seam to be in full working order. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" he asked, taking a set next to him.

"No, Sir."

"Okay, do you remember how you got hurt?"

Making his memory turn back, he tried to think of what had happened to him last. It was all really blurry, and he couldn't remember exactly what had happened. Looking down at his body, he quickly evaluated his injury. His head really hurt, and there a strong pain is his chest. He decided that the usual excuse would work. "I fell down the stairs, Sir."

The doctor gave him a look, making him panic a little. He knew he wasn't very good at lying, but he still though he was better then that. Thankfully though, he was saved by the bell. Or in this case, the beep. The doctors pager started to beep quickly, making him look down at it and stand up. "You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Caffrey, I'll be back in a while. But, I'll send in your family." Once again, he was left alone in the strange hospital room. The monitor began to 'beep' faster, along with his heart.


"So… he's okay?" El asked Peter, as they sat down together in the corridor, each holding an untouched cup of coffee in their hands.

"I think so," Peter told his wife, though he wasn't really all that sure himself. The doctor had said that Neal was stable, but with all that other stuff he said, he wasn't completely convinced. "I do know one thing for sure."

"What's that?"

"As soon as we can see him, he's going to get an earful from me." Elizabeth gave a small laugh. That was a good sign that Peter was comfortable enough to say something like that and El was calm enough to laugh at it. It broke the ice a little bit.

"Mr. Burke?"

Both Peter and El looked up to find the doctor from before walking over to them. "Is Neal okay?" Elisabeth asked quickly.

"He seams okay. He's awake at the moment and you can see him now. But I have to warn you that - " But Peter didn't stay around to hear the rest, as he immediately started to march down the corridor, focused only on getting to Neal and yelling at him for being such an idiot.

As soon as he entered, Neal looked up at him from the small, single hospital bed, a curious look on his face. "Can I help you, Sir?" he asked quietly. This only caused Peters anger to rise.

"Don't you dare play that game with me, Caffrey!" he boomed at the man as soon as he stepped foot in his privet room. Neal practically jumped two feet in the air from shock, starting at a very angry Peter, who made is way over two him. "What in Gods name where you thinking! I knew you where an idiot, but this is a new level of stupidity! You come on, I want to hear it, what where you thinking?!"

Just as he was about to grab hold of the younger mans shoulders and shake his roughly to get some of the anger out of him, Neal's arms shot up and covered his head, his body curling up into a protective position, his legs put against his chest and knees near his chin. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please!" he called out quickly, sounding completely desperate and helpless.

Peter froze, blinking in confusion. He was mad at the man, but he didn't expect him to do anything like this from him. After al… it was Neal! Neal, who had no sense of consequence, Neal who was always grinning or smiling at something, Neal who could find new ways of annoying him every single day. The thought for a second that he might have been faking it, but hearing his heart monitor speed up so much cancelled out that idea. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him backwards to make room for the doctor, who had a very worried expression on his face. A second later he was practically dragged out of the room couple of nurses. El hovered outside, wondering what on earth was happening, much like Peter was.


Neal hadn't a clue why that man was so angry with him, or how he had even known his name, but he could tell that he was in serious trouble with him. Even now, as he sat alone in the room apart from the doctor who had thankfully come and rescued him for the time being. Still, he knew that the man would get him eventually, which didn't help his nerves at all.

"I'm sorry about that, Mr Caffrey," the doctor apologized, though Neal wasn't sure why the doctor was apologizing for him.

"Sir... please, who was that man?" Neal asked quietly.

"That was Peter Burke. You remember him, don't you?"

Neal shook his head. "I'm sorry Sir, but I don't."

"I see. Well, Neal, if you don't mind, I was wondering if you could answer some more questions for me, okay?"

"Yes, Sir," he awkward, trying to calm down a little, as the consent fast 'beeps' in the background where making him even more tense.

"Okay, could you please tell me where you are?"

"The hospitable, Sir?" he asked, unsure as to why the man would want to know something like that.

"No. The state," he corrected calmly.

"I'm in Texas, Sir."

Dr. Willows gave another one of his looks. "And the city?"

"Houston, Sir."

"Okay… could you tell me who is the president?"

Neal mentally winced. He had never been very good at school and he didn't like to watch the news at home. He didn't like the news; it was never something good, always bad and upsetting.

"I think its… Ronald Reagan, Sir."

Another look. "Tell me, Neal, do you know the date?"

Why would a doctor want to know the date? Was he planning something soon? Still, Neal answered. "I think it's the 3rd of March, 1987, sir." He wasn't completely sure about the date, but he was confident about the month and the year.

One more look. "So your how old?"

"Nine years old, Sir."


Sorry it's a bit short, but here it is. I'll try to write a longer one next time. Just wanted to point out, before people start flaming me, I looked of wikipidia and used the data on Matt Bomer for Neal Caffrey, you know Houston, Texas, and his age as well, which I think is 32 know. Yes, I know he doesn't have a southern accent (Which by the way I love!), but I will explain that later on in the , on to more important things.

This is a shout out to anyone who wants a say in this story. If there is anything, anything at all that you would like me to put in here, then please feel free to tell me. Seriously, anything, I am very open-minded and will look at anything you put forward.