Leaving for a work related trip out of town tomorrow; will update stories when I return on Tuesday night. Thanks for reading and reviewing. It makes me happy. I own nothing but the mistakes for which I accept all responsibility.

Chapter Eight

"This is definitely not the Las Vegas of the Persian Gulf," Peter jumped at the sound of Neal's voice. Even though his eyes had opened briefly over the past several hours, he hadn't spoken. Hoarse from days of disuse, his voice, laced with sarcasm, was a pleasant sound to Peter's ears. Neal was back.

"No, its not," Peter agreed, getting to his feet and pressing the call button. "Doctors have been waiting on you to wake up." He smiled, "And so have I."

"How long?" Neal moved uncomfortably in the bed, looking with dismay at the IV attached to his arm.

"Two days. It's Sunday evening. What do you last remember?" The doctor had explained that Neal would like suffer from some level of amnesia. The extent couldn't be determined until he was lucid enough to undergo an assessment .

"Envelope with money, some account numbers, a passport and…." He looked at Peter hesitantly and his voice trailed off.

"Yes, a ticket to Dubai," Peter smiled, "the Las Vegas of the Persian Gulf."

"Something bad happened, didn't it?" The pallor of Neal's face increased, his tone worried, "other than the obvious that I didn't go to Dubai…".

At that, the nurse entered, "Mr. Caffrey," she said, stethoscope in hand, "its good to see you have finally decided to join us," She looked at Peter, "The doctor is on his way." Peter took that as his cue to leave the room. A series of neurologic tests were in store for his friend.

"Don't worry about any of that right now," He said in answer to Neal's question, putting a hand on his arm and squeezing it. "Let them check you out. I'll be back when they finish with you and we can talk then."

"Peter," Neal voice stopped him at the door and he looked back, "Thanks, you know, thanks for being here when I woke up."

"You're welcome," Peter answered, "I am just glad you are back."

After Peter left the room, the doctor introduced himself to his patient. Even though he had attended to him for the past three days, he had yet to have a conversation with the young man. He told Neal the extent of the injuries he had sustained and what treatment options had been utilized. He then explained the necessity of doing some exercises and activities, or neurologic testing, to determine if any changes had occurred in his brain function. The doctor saw the immediate look of concern on his patient's face and did his best to alleviate his fears.

"Headache, feeling like you are in a fog, fatigue," the doctor began, "These are all normal after an injury such as yours. These tests are just to see where you are, to spot any problem areas so we can help adjust until things get back to normal. In cases like yours, most cognitive issues have cleared up completely within a few weeks."

The doctor then begin his tests. He asked Neal about how the injury had occurred and what he remembered about what had happened before and after the injury. Neal remembered events that happened previous to the injury, but not the injury itself or any of the events that immediately followed it. He had some recollection of being sick in his apartment but that had occurred several hours later. His most clear recollection about that was that vomiting with bruised ribs was exceedingly painful. The doctor smiled at that comment, and told Neal that he had seen the injuries to his mid section and did not doubt that it had been an excruciating experience. Neal did not remember any of the care he had received at the hands of the medics who had attended him even though he had been conscious at the time. He did not remember being transported to the hospital, nor any of the brief moments he had been semi-conscious the past few hours. The doctor explained that lack of clear memory of the injury and the event that followed was a common occurrence after a brain injury such as his, It was called post-traumatic amnesia. The memories might return, but usually they did not. Even though Peter had told the doctor of the gruesome events that had taken place at the time of Neal's injury, he did not share that information with Neal. He then tested Neal's ability to pay attention and stay on task, presenting him with a variety of problems and noting how quickly he was able to solve them. He was impressed with the young man. Even though Neal showed frustration at what he felt was slow reaction times, the doctor classified them as average. He did realize however, that the highly intelligent would not be accustomed to finishing in the average range. He showed Neal several objects, took them away, and had Neal name them back to him. Finally, he had checked his patient's strength, balance, coordination, reflexes, and sensations. As he did the series of tests, he had also interacted with his patient, determining if any behavioral or emotional symptoms were present. It had been observed during his brief moments of consciousness that Neal had been at times anxious. This too was common. Two hours after he had introduced himself to his patient, the doctor finished the examination and worked up his evaluation.

When Peter was allowed back into Neal's room, he could tell that Neal was exhausted. The doctor seemed up beat and positive, and both Neal and Peter were relieved to learn that the neurologic profile did not indicate, except for post-traumatic amnesia, that Neal was suffering from any significant cognitive deficits.

"Rest, Mr. Caffrey," the doctor said, "That is the best way to recover from your injury. You need to rest your body and especially your brain."

"That means no scheming or plotting Neal, do you think you can handle that?" Peter teased.

"Get plenty of sleep at night," the doctor continued, "and take it easy during the day. Avoid activities that are physically or mentally taxing. You may need to change your work schedule while you recover." He looked at Peter. "No undercover operations for my patient until I have cleared him." He looked at Neal. "I am willing to discharge you in the morning if you have someone who can keep a close eye on you for the next few days."

Neal opened his mouth to speak but Peter beat him to it. "He does. He will stay at my house." He smiled at Neal's expression of distress. "I always keep a close eye on him."

A groan escaped from Neal but the doctor knew it wasn't a groan of pain but of mock exasperation. He had observed the two men during the course of the weekend and knew that their friendship was a close one. One an FBI agent, and the other wearing a tracking device, he didn't begin to understand the strange dynamics that were at play there. Captor and captive or father and son; it wasn't at all clear. What was clear was that the Agent had hardly left Neal's bedside and when the young man had been anxious and confused, it had only taken a touch on his arm, or a quiet word, to settle his semi-conscious mind.

The doctor left them and Peter gave Neal a very abbreviated run down of how things had transpired at the Zenith Building. He told him that Teagan had been killed but he didn't go into any details: Neal didn't remember them and Peter thought it was probably best that way.

He was telling him about the arrest, and how it had taken Neal so long to exit the building.

"You thought I took the money and ran." Neal sounded disappointed, but the gleam in his eyes said something else. How could someone sound disappointed but look pleased? Peter was pretty sure he knew the answer to that.

"Money, fake ID, ticket to an island with no extradition?" Peter answered, "Yeah, it crossed my mind. And you clearly said in and out in twenty minutes. After thirty, I was beginning to panic. And when the others came out without you…."

"You thought had another route out of the building and that I ran," Neal finished.

"And you did have your own route, because you didn't come out the same way as the others; you came from the other side somewhere." Peter stopped, "you had your own key card, didn't you, and they didn't know?"

"Of course," he answered easily, "I always have an alternate escape plan."

Peter tried to keep his disapproving expression, but struggled to keep a smile from breaking through. Of course he had an alternate escape plan; he was Neal. After being educated in the subtle nuances of escape plans, Peter no longer immediately regarded that fact as a bad thing. They weren't always a way to run; sometimes they were a way to stay.

"You could have used it and used that ticket to Dubai if you wanted to. No one was there to stop you," Peter said.

"I have to take your word on that since I don't remember any of it."

Peter tried to keep his voice as conversational as possible, but it was hard given the importance of what he wanted to say. "We both know, that in the end you do what you want to do, Neal. From the beginning, our arrangement was your choice. You make your own decisions and if you really wanted to go, a watch with a GPS or an anklet wouldn't stop you."

There was a thoughtful look in Neal's face at that, and Peter felt that he had given back something that the young man may have feared he had lost.

"Like I said, I don't remember coming out of the building and I certainly don't remember giving you my ticket to Dubai," Neal said slowly, "but I was suffering from a traumatic brain injury."

"True, if things hadn't gone south and the offer for permanent employment hadn't been withdrawn, would you have walked out and handed me your ticket to freedom?" Peter was certain he knew the answer but thought Neal might like to think he didn't. If escape was still an option in Peter's mind, maybe Neal would think it was too.

Neal smile was not his usual but it was the best he could manage in his current condition, which was actually quite exhausted in spite of two days of sleep. "I guess we will never know."

But Neal did know. He knew, just like in the helicopter, there would have been those moments of nervous excitement and exhilaration at the thought of taking the payment and exiting out the back; he had created the key card as a part of that escape plan. Peter and the team would be busy with the exiting thieves, and leaving the watch inside, he could have slipped away unseen. But nothing had changed since he sat in the helicopter, experiencing that same pivotal moment. He liked the view from his apartment at June's. He liked that special place in the park. He liked testing Elizabeth's new dishes, and he liked Peter. The man who had been sitting by his bed when he awakened after two days of slumber, and was standing be beside him now, looking at him with an odd little smile on his face, like he understood more than he was letting on. Neal knew he could have gone if he wanted, but he would have chosen to stay; he had chosen to stay, whether he actively remembered it or not. Choices. That was all he asked for and he had plenty of them. That knowledge brought a feeling of peace and calm to his mind, and he felt his eyes growing heavy again. With an odd little smile of his own, he let them close and drifted off to sleep.