(Chapter 5)
Terry watched as Mozzie squirmed helplessly, watching the man as he tapped the two wires together and sparks arced off the wires. He hadn't touched them to Neal's temples yet but that was what he had been hinting at. Mozz watched helplessly, hands up over his head and secured to the ring on the wall. He couldn't help Neal this time. The boy who he had once rescued was going to die, along with himself unless some kind of miracle occurred.
"FBI! We have you surrounded!" Mozzie turned at the sound of someone shouting from outside the morgue doors and gave a relieved yet muffled sigh. He saw Terry hesitate, looking around as if unsure of what to do as he held the two live wires in his hand.
Mozz suddenly seemed to come to himself again, pulling something out of his sleeve and hearing a soft click as the handcuff loosened around his wrist and fell off. He was free at least for the moment, undoing the other cuff and pulling the tape from his mouth.
"Terry, you're not getting away. The Feds are outside. Leo just screwed you as much as anyone. He's going to let you take the fall. You know that." Thomas wasn't trying to make friends with the man but hoping the thought of being betrayed by someone he had killed and lied for would be enough to make him back off. Unfortunately, Terry wasn't the kind of person to get scared so easily. He seemed more determined than ever to finish the job as Mozzie pulled himself to his feet and watched in horror as what he had prayed would stop didn't. He did the only thing he could think of, praying there was a God if only in the proverbial sense.
()()()
Peter and crew, vests on, ran towards the morgue area. When they called out and received no reply, Peter felt antsy but he knew he couldn't take a chance the man had a gun. The other agents were awaiting orders to go in on his command when there was a flicker of the lights and then a thud from the inside of the room. Peter felt nausea wash over him but they had to go in so he gave the command and they swarmed through the door.
He wasn't certain what to make of the sight that met him as they entered the cold metal room. Neal was moving ever so slightly, strapped down to an examination table, his eyes open. He was murmuring something, looking or trying to look behind him.
"Mozz... Mozz..." He was repeating the name over and over with a slightly frantic mantra, his eyes still glazed and slightly out of focus.
"Mozz... Mozz..." Peter ran over to the young man's side and started to untie him when he saw what had upset his partner. The agent nearly collapsed to his knees but he held onto the table that Neal was strapped to, trying to keep his feet. Jones walked over as he entered the room with his crew and looked sadly at the scene.
"Peter... what... happened?" Jones sounded confused, helping his boss to free Neal as he stood beside him. Peter tried not to look but he had to know, crouching at the foot of the examination table.
Mozzie lay there on the floor, face peaceful but his glasses were beside him, slightly twisted by the struggle. He didn't move, eyes closed, beside him was Terry, the orderly. His face was not as peaceful, taut and twisted in a painful look of death from being electrocuted by the very thing he had meant to use on Neal. Some smart agent managed to kick the plug out and stop the flow of electricity that made it impossible to touch the now dead assailant's body. Mozzie had been touching the man which was probably why he had collapsed to the ground. Peter sighed, finding a rubber glove and touching the little guy gently as the charge died down.
"Mozz..." Peter could think of nothing else to say but felt a deep abiding thanks in his soul that the man had saved Neal from a horrible fate. He looked up at Jones who was helping Neal from the slab. The young man was disoriented and still calling for his friend. Peter didn't want Neal to see this, waving a hand at Jones to stop but Neal had already turned and seen the little man laying on the floor.
"Oh God... Mozz? No..." Neal's voice was a low wail, his face pale as he glanced down at his friend and fell to his knees beside him.
"Mozz... wake up... Please... wake up." He turned to Peter and grabbed his arm.
"Wake him up, Peter... Please. Wake him up!" Neal's tone was desperate and tragic as he leaned over his friend and cried, hugging the man to him. He whispered softly to the still figure, rocking back and forth.
"Thank you Mozzie... I forgive you. Please don't leave me. Please... don't..." Neal was holding the man, his head leaning on Mozzie's chest when he heard it. He heard a gasp of breath and then felt a wisp of something against his cheek. He sat up and looked at the man who suddenly twitched and started to cough. Neal looked at Peter who was just as surprised as him but turned and yelled for someone to grab a doctor.
"Mozz... Mozz wake up. Mozz..." Neal had gently flipped his friend over onto his back and was gently shaking him.
"Mozz... please..." He stopped when a hand reached up and pushed a finger over his lips suddenly.
"The world is a fine place and I'd hate very much to leave it." Mozzie's voice was quiet but snarky as ever, Neal drawing a deep breath as he hugged his friend and gave a slight laugh of relief.
"Misquoting Hemingway... great timing Mozz as usual." Neal saw his friend open up his eyes and blink up at him curiously. Mozz tried to sit up, Neal and Peter helping him as he got his bearings. Neal handed him his glasses.
"All I remember is leaping out into space and thinking: Mozzie, you are one stupid con, and then everything went black." His voice sounded a bit off but it was the same old Mozzie again, the hint of nervousness and paranoia back. Neal hugged the man close and Mozzie did his best not to look like he wanted to squirm out of the young man's hold. Peter stood and waved at the medical crew that came over with a stretcher towards them. He saw Mozz' eyes widen and he started to make a motion as if he might run.
"It's ok, Mozz. They're just going to look you over. You're safe. Neal will go with you, right?" Peter turned to Neal who nodded with a smile.
"Come on, Mozz. Maybe they'll put you in my room." Neal was smiling as he was helped up by Peter and placed back in the wheelchair, Peter leaving Jones in charge as he helped push Neal back upstairs and the medics gently placed Mozz on the stretcher. The man looked absolutely petrified, reaching out for Neal's hand.
"Neal... don't leave me with them! You know how much I hate hospitals!" His voice reached a new octave in paranoia that Peter hadn't heard before but Neal just reached out and held the man's hand and talked softly.
"I'm right here, Mozz. You're ok."
()()()
Mozzie ended up only having to stay overnight. He had been insulated enough by not having directly touched the terminals to be deemed ok. Terry had taken the brunt of the electrical shock being the insulating factor that saved Mozz's life. Neal was let out a couple of days later when he was deemed in better condition, the side effects of the shock therapy by Green lessening as he was able to stay awake for longer periods of time. Neal was still spacey off and on for the rest of the month till he seemed more his old self. Peter took a few weeks off to help keep an eye on him, Mozz having fallen off the radar when he left the hospital. Neal seemed a bit down not seeing the little guy but he didn't say much about it.
"Peter?" Neal's voice broke through his concentration as he turned from the football game on tv and smiled at his friend.
"What's up, Neal?" Peter gave him his rapt attention. Neal just turned slightly, acting like he was into the game.
"Can we go for a drive?" Neal's voice was quiet but intent. Peter blinked.
"Sure, let me get the keys." He reached for the remote and turned the TV off, pushing on his shoes under the coffee table. He saw Neal stand up and head for the stairs.
"I'll be right back." Neal trotted up the stairs of the Burke home, El passing him and giving him a small hug as she came downstairs with a small basket of laundry. She looked at Peter curiously who just shrugged as she approached him.
"Something going on, Peter?" She placed the basket on the coffee table for a moment as she sat beside him.
"Not sure. He wants to go for a ride so I said sure. He hasn't been out much and maybe he wants to look for Mozz. I know he misses the guy but not sure why he's avoiding Neal. Doesn't seem right but who am I to interfere." He shrugged at her helplessly and she squeezed him close.
"Well I'm sure he just wants to get out. Be nice, ok?" She grabbed his chin with one hand and held his face so she could plant a kiss on it before standing and grabbing up the basket again, walking to the kitchen. As she disappeared from sight, Neal came back down the stairs, slowly this time and dressed in a nice dark suit, hair fixed and looking like he was going to a party. Peter wasn't sure why but he suddenly felt a bit under dressed in his jeans and Yankee's tee.
"You look nice, Neal. Are we going anywhere particular or seeing anyone..." Peter was interrupted as Neal walked over and grabbed his jacket. Peter was already standing and grabbing his own coat.
"Sort of but don't worry. There's no dress code where we're going." He smiled ever so slightly making Peter wonder at the enigmatic statement.
()()()
Along the way to their mystery destination, Neal had Peter stop at a small florist. He insisted Peter stay in the car while he went inside and after a few minutes came out with a nice bouquet of flowers. Peter was intrigued now as to their destination but Neal just gave him directions and never said anything about the actual place they were headed to. Finally they turned into a fenced park out in a fancier area of the suburbs, the sign reading: Shady Brook Cemetery. Peter wondered what they were doing here since Kate had been buried in a totally different area. Neal finally had Peter parked the car and they took off on foot down a lovely tree-lined trail surrounded by ornate statuary and plots usually reserved for the rich and powerful. Peter wondered at the expense of some of the plots when Neal stopped before a particularly simple plot with a small angel beside it. It simply read:
In memory of Angela Mary Garner.
Loving mother and friend.
Peter looked at the image of the woman etched on to the stone and gawked. She had a familiar chin, eyes and hair. He turned to look at Neal who had knelt beside the plot and was replacing the flowers in a small vase. Someone else had been there. His face looked somewhat sad but calm.
"I used to come every day during school recess and place this same kind of bouquet in the vase. Darrian never knew what I was up to. The only time I missed a day was when he took me abroad or I was stuck inside for some event he had me go to. I can't believe I had forgotten about her all this time." His voice was quiet, somewhat remote but surprisingly relaxed. Peter placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.
"I'm sorry. I don't think Mozz meant to keep this from you but it was necessary under the circumstances." Peter saw Neal look up at him and nod without surprise.
"He told you? I guess he had to. Thanks for saving me, Peter. Mozz doesn't trust many people but I'm glad you were there to help." Neal reached up and Peter helped him to his feet as they stood there looking at the plot. Neal wiped at his eyes and seemed to be saying something without speaking as he looked at the grave.
"This was the only really decent thing my foster father ever did for me. He put this plot out for my mother, wanted to place one of those huge statues over it, mausoleum... the works but I told him I just wanted this angel. Darrian actually looked like he wanted to yell but he didn't and let me have my way. I'm glad he's gone or I'd have done something regrettable." Neal's voice went dark a moment on the last part but he shook it away and turned with a little smile.
"I need a drink..." Neal started to walk away, Peter following after a quick cross and word in his own mind to the mother of the man he'd come to call his partner. They walked back down the tree-lined trail in silence, Neal glancing over at Peter with a look he'd never seen on his partner's face before.
"Neal, she was watching over you. That's why Mozzie was there." He smiled at the young man, mussing his hair and moving over to the driver's side. Neal slipped inside the car and looked over at the agent curiously.
"You really think she sent Mozzie to help me? Maybe... she..." He paused thinking, remembering how he had met Peter when he was caught. It had been on his mother's birthday now that he thought about it. He flushed a bit, glancing up at the roof of the car and laughing. Peter turned and looked at him with a curious look.
"Something I missed?" Peter smiled uncertainly but Neal shook his head, his expression lighthearted.
"Just something about what you said. So... how about that drink?"
()()()
El had to take a cab to the bistro / bar Peter and Neal ended up going to. They were too drive to drink, her husband's exact words when he called to have her pick them up. He had the car but she took a cab so that she could drive back in their car rather than leave it downtown.
Peter and Neal crashed out in the backseat of the Taurus, Neal leaning against Peter at some point as El looked into the rear-view mirror when they were too quiet. They looked peaceful like two brothers or maybe a father and son. She was never quite sure where her husband held the young man but they were comfortable like family. She smiled, pulling into the space along the curb at their home and opened the back door.
"Come on, you guys need to wake up. Peter... Neal..." El's voice was soft and motherly, Peter opening his eyes and blinking as he rubbed at them.
"Home... already? You're fast El." Peter stumbled out of the backseat leaning against the side of the vehicle as El helped Neal who seemed a little worse off. The young man was barely conscious and reeked of scotch. El made a face but started to help carry him when Peter took over.
"Open the door, honey... I can handle him." He seemed a bit more sober suddenly and she nodded, leaving her husband to stumble with the young man in tow up the few stairs to their home. Peter placed the young man on the sofa, sitting beside him and leaning against the armrest tiredly.
"Peter honey, want me to make you some coffee?" She was already heading for the kitchen when he nodded vaguely, eyes barely open. He felt himself about to pass out when someone touched his arm. Peter turned and saw Neal looking at him with glassy eyes that roamed idly around their sockets.
"What was in that scotch? I have a horrible headache." Neal looked like he was going to be sick, Peter sitting up enough and apparently sober enough to worry about the young man throwing up on his carpet if not the sofa.
"Scotch? You had enough of it... but then so did I." Peter gave a weak little laugh as did Neal just before the young man stood and ran up the stairs. Peter heard the slam of a door, wincing and started to his feet, stumbling upstairs and over to the bathroom. He knocked on the closed door a couple of times, hearing the toilet flush just before he opened it up. Neal sat on the floor, leaning against the wall and looking a bit green around the gills.
"Hey... that was some expensive scotch you know." Peter saw Neal blink at him before smiling and giving a little laugh.
"Even drunk you're a tight wad. Does El know that?" Neal's voice was hoarse, Peter offering the young man a hand as he helped him back up and over to the sink.
"Come on... wash up. She's making coffee. June gave her some of that Italian roast." Peter saw Neal's eyes widened a bit and nod, washing his hands, face and rinsing his mouth. His color was returning as he started to follow his friend outside. Peter paused halfway down the hallway and turned, his face looking a bit off.
"Peter?" Neal saw his friend stagger into the bathroom, close the door. Neal sighed. That had been some great scotch but now it was gone. He moved back over to the bathroom door and knocked a few times till he heard the flush and opened up the door. Peter was already standing up and moving over to the sink.
"Well, I guess I just ate my words and tossed my cookies." He finished washing his hands and face and they stumbled arm in arm down the stairs. El looked up as they tromped clumsily down the stairs and smiled at her.
"Feeling better?" She had a tray in her hands she was laying down on the coffee table. It held a pot of coffee that smelled heavenly to both men as they sat down with a plop on the sofa and grabbed a cup and nodded.
"Yes ma'am." Neal said as he inhaled the rich coffee and took a sip. Peter was a bit less verbal, pulling his wife into a kiss to which she made a bit of a face.
"You reek of scotch, Peter. So what was this celebration about?" She sat in a nearby armchair and watched them enjoying the coffee and slowly return to sobriety. Peter glanced at Neal who gave only a sideways look without moving his head.
"Life?" Peter said and as if they had planned it they clinked their coffee cups together, El blinking at the both of them with a stifled giggle.
()()()
(Some time later...)
Mozzie sat in the park on a bench off the beaten path. He looked rather thoughtful until he practically fell out of the seat when someone touched his shoulder.
"Just take my wallet... go ahead... take it!" He was holding his wallet up blindly, face averted and covered with his other arm. Neal blinked at the little guy and poked him.
"It's me. Jumpy much?" Neal scooted in next to the little guy as he sat back down and tried to act normal, pushing his wallet back into his pocket.
"Hi, Neal. What's up?" Mozzie tried to sound casual but under the circumstances he sounded more panicky. Neal smiled, reaching to touch the little guy on the shoulder but seeing his friend shrug back so he stopped. He frowned slightly, leaning back against the bench and looking around.
"I noticed the flowers. How did you know?" Neal's voice was matter of fact with a hint of emotion that made Mozzie turn and look at the young man with a surreptitious glance. He wiped at his glasses, new frames that replaced the ones that had been broken recently.
"You talked in your sleep for a while. I guess you were remembering things but when you were awake you seemed to not know so I didn't want to push you." Mozz spoke a little less like himself, the person Neal had come to know and more like the man he saw in his memories from the dreams. They sat there awhile in silence before Neal turned and touched Mozzie on the shoulder.
"Thank you, Thomas." Neal saw the orderly look up at him a moment before the current Mozzie took over again.
"I prefer Mozzie. You started calling me that when you were healing. It stuck and we needed to change IDs. Thomas is gone as is Nick... well except when you bring him out to play." Mozz smirked slightly, Neal grinning.
"It was odd how that name just stuck with me and I didn't know why. I guess because I was doing bad..." He felt Mozzie grab his arm, shaking his head at him.
"You have never been anything like that foster father of yours! He killed people... hurt them. You always went the extra mile so you didn't have to use violence. I think you recognized the charm he had, his influence that he brought to you and remembered that part of him. Don't think of it as idolizing him... you aren't." Mozzie glared up at him like a father at an errant son, a view of the man he'd never seen or couldn't remember seeing before. Then Mozzie smacked him lightly on the side of the head. Neal ouched and rubbed his head.
"Now… I'm Mozzie... you're Neal. Let's keep it simple." Mozz' tone was slightly facetious but Neal knew he was partially serious and nodded.
"Sounds good to me."
()()()
Neal was sifting through a file, his eyes reading intently. A picture floated out onto the desktop drawing him from the file and down to the color photo. The image was of a man in his 40s, handsome, dark hair, intense blue green eyes that seemed to look right through you. He could see why his mother fell for the man but she had no idea how evil he was, nor had Neal till that fateful day.
"Reading case files?" Neal looked up at the sound of Peter's voice interrupting his thoughts. He glanced up and nodded, watching Peter pick up the photo and glance at it curiously.
"So this was the infamous Darrian Halden." Peter handed the picture back when he saw the look on Neal's face.
"It's nearly lunch... I was thinking about that Chinese place near the park." Peter was leaning on the desk, a hopeful look on his face as Neal glanced back at the photo of his foster father and nodded. Neal pushed the picture back in the folder, placing the file underneath a stack of other cases.