Hey, Guys!! I was so thankful for your brilliant response that I decided to gift y'all with a new chapter, despite my extremely busy schedule. (We're moving so I gotta help my mom pack) Anywho, Hope you like this chapter just as much, if not more, Love Brownie

Finding Neal

Chapter 2: My Baby

"Code Blue, room 203. I repeat Code Blue," Peter shouted as he ran through the hallway, knocking into a man wearing orange scrubs in the process, but not pausing to apologize. The man who'd just told him the information that lead him to assume something was going to go wrong with his patient, "Mozzie", was right at his heels.

He cared about the kid, Brewing had to give him that. He arrived at the room just in time to see his patient flatline and, pushing Mozzie out of the room when he tried to get in, he yelled, "Get me a crash cart and a defib."

By the time the cart came through, about thirty seconds, he'd had to kick two more people, a man wearing orange scrubs and a woman with long, black hair, out. He quickly grabbed the gel and applied it over the kid's left precordium and on his side in the region between his scapula. Then grabbing the defibrillator, he told the young resident who had pushed the crash cart into the room, "Charge – 200" and then, declared, "Clear," before pushing the paddles into the gelled areas.

He watched the boy's body go taut, then sighed in relief, "We got him." He, then, motioned the resident to come closer and said, "Get the kid moved to PICU and change the name on his chart to Neal Bomer." And, when the 23 year old just stared at him blankly, he reinforced, "Do it."

He then exited the room to face the family of, one, Neal Bomer. Facing who he assumed were the worried parents, he started explaining, "Neal was shot at close range in the back, but luckily it was a through and through and missed any major organs. He should bounce right back in a month or two."

"Then why did he just crash?" asked Burke worriedly.

Ignoring the way that Mozzie was moving his hand in front of his neck in a recognizable gesture that everyone knew meant "Bad idea" because he was a firm believer in the fact that parents should know everything about their children, Brewing answered, "We were told that he was 32, so we gave him an adult dose of Lidocaine, and excessive amounts of Lidocaine can cause many adverse reactions including cardiac arrest."

Elizabeth nodded, then rescinded, "I don't get it."

Doctor Brewing didn't know what was not to get, but tried to put it in simpler terms anyway, "We gave your seventeen year old son, a dose of Lidocaine that was meant for a thirty-two year old. That's almost double the amount that he required."

"Neal's not seventeen," asserted Peter Burke, "He's thirty-two."

Brewing opened his mouth to tell him otherwise, but Mozzie beat him to it, "You know who I am?" he asked.

"Yeah," replied Burke, "You're Neal's informant, right?"

"Yes, so believe me when I say Neal is seventeen. He was placed in a foster home after his adoptive parents died, when he was four. He ran away a year later and that's when I found him, running from CPS. We came up with Neal Caffrey, son of Moseley Caffrey, that's me, if you haven't guessed. That was when Neal Bomer dis…"

He trailed off when he heard Elizabeth gasp, her eyes going wide, and her hands covering her mouth. She was hyperventilating, so Peter took her over to a bench and waited for her to calm down, all the time telling her, "Breathe, El, breathe."

He sighed in relief when she calmed down, but then she started crying, making him feel as though it was his turn to start hyperventilating. He wrapped his arms around his wife, feeling her tears stain his scrubs and asked, "What's wrong, Elle?"

It took a while and he had to concentrate to hear it, but she answered, "God, I've been looking for him forever, Peter, and he's been under our noses for a month."

Peter didn't like to admit it, but he was confused and he said as much, "What?"

Elizabeth pulled herself out of his arms and wiped her face before answering, "Peter, you remember when we broke up?"

"Yeah," answered Peter, "But I don't get how this has anything to do with that."

"I was pregnant, Peter," Elizabeth got up the courage to tell Peter what she'd wanted to tell him for eighteen years, "But I knew how much you wanted to be a Fed and you told me that you didn't think we'd work out, so I decided that I was going to give my son up for adoption."

"Liz," mumbled Peter, staring at her disbelievingly.

"You have to understand, Peter, I grew up without a father and I always felt as though something was missing, you know, and I didn't want my kid to go through that," Elizabeth tried to explain, tears flowing freely down her beautiful face.

"God, El, why didn't you tell me when I came back?" asked Peter, wrapping her in his arms once more, even as his own eyes started to tear up.

"I didn't want to tell you until I found him," she answered.

"And did you?"

"Yeah, he'd been adopted and I went down to the house with the Social Service's lady, but I saw him in the park, Peter, and he was so happy and they obviously loved him." She paused to look him in the eyes and asked, "How could I take him away from the only family he'd ever known? I couldn't do it, but God knows I wanted to. God knows I wanted to."

"God, El, I can't believe you didn't tell me," he murmured again, his face buried in her hair so that no one would see the tears that were falling from his eyes.

"You told me you didn't want me, Peter, and I wanted my baby to have a full life, but that doesn't matter anymore, he's right there. My baby, Peter," she said as she got up, walked into his temporary, ICU room, and slid her hand into his. As she used her right hand to smooth away the stray hair that had fallen into his face, she repeated, "My baby."

…TBC…

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