AN: I guess it wasn't clear that one of Adler's men was the one that shot Peter, Adler himself is definitely dead. Alex got away somehow when the FBI bust in. Thanks to everyone for reading and commenting! Only one more chapter to go! :)

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.

CHAPTER 18

Jones paced around the hospital waiting room. Peter had been taken to surgery as soon as he was brought in, and after he'd woken, Neal had excused himself to go to the bathroom. He'd cleaned himself up and was now sitting calmly in a chair by the door. No crying, no nothing really. Was he in shock? Jones didn't even know what to make of it. He turned around once more and relief flooded his body when he saw Elizabeth Burke making her way towards them. He met her outside the door.

Elizabeth grabbed his arm. "Clinton, how is he?"

"He's in surgery. I don't really know anything else, just that it was a clean shot, it didn't hit anything important. That's what the EMTs said."

She nodded and then turned towards the boy sitting inside the room. She made her way over, dropped her bag on the chair beside him, knelt down before him, and gathered him in his arms. He was surprisingly pliant.

"Neal." Her voice held so much emotion that Jones was glad that there wasn't anyone else in the room. He exited the room, leaving them alone.

Neal turned around and hugged her back before letting go. His eyes had something strange in them, and he smiled at her. "Hi Elizabeth."

She got up from the floor and sat down beside him, keeping hold of his hand. "Are you okay honey?" She asked worriedly. Diana had called and explained everything that had happened.

Neal gave her another smile. It was a twisted smile that didn't reach his eyes, and it made Elizabeth's stomach churn. He nodded vigorously and pressed her hand. "Sure."

Elizabeth didn't say anything else. Neal didn't appear to be registering what was happening anyway. So, they sat like that, holding hands, for nearly two hours before Neal's hand finally started shaking.

He couldn't ignore the thought anymore. He knew it. He'd said so to Mozzie. He'd tried to explain so many times before. This is my fault, Neal thought. He could feel himself starting to shake. I'm bad. Bad things happen when I'm around. He started rocking back and forth trying to ease the anxiety. I could have killed Peter. Peter could be dead. Maybe Peter is dying right now… I'm a bad person. I'm a bad person…

"Neal?" Elizabeth asked in a worried tone when the rocking began.

The words slipped out before he could even register them. "I'm a bad person."

Elizabeth gasped and she raised his chin, making him look at her. "Neal, that's not true. This wasn't your fault."

Neal laughed and shrugged. "That's just who I am. I hurt people."

"No." Elizabeth's voice was strong and unyielding. "No, Neal. You didn't shoot Peter. You didn't hurt him."

Neal just smiled.

God, what was going through his mind? Elizabeth's heart twisted in pain as she finally understood and the epiphany hit her. She got it now, his rule against touching, she got it and she looked at him horrified. It wasn't because he didn't want to get hurt. It wasn't because he didn't want to let anyone in, like Peter had suggested. It was much worse, somewhere along the last few years, Neal had somehow rationalized that bad things happened around him, that bad things happened because of him. He didn't want people touching him, because he didn't want to hurt anyone.

"Neal, you have to understand," her voice was pleading now. "This wasn't your fault. None of it has ever been your fault. Neal?"

Neal swallowed and looked the other way. Peter could have died. Peter was one more victim now. Kate. Mozzie. Alex. His mom, and probably even his dad. Everyone that had ever meant something to him had died or gotten hurt. Who was the common denominator? Neal Caffrey, that's who. Bad things happened around him. He had long learned to accept that, even if Elizabeth couldn't see it.

"Neal," she started, but was interrupted when a woman walked into the room and asked for her. She reluctantly let go of Neal and was informed by the doctor that Peter was alright and that she could see him in his room, although he was still asleep. Jones' came in and offered to take care of Neal. She thanked him and followed a nurse to her husband's room.

Peter looked pale. He had bandages around his torso and right shoulder and an IV line in his other arm, but otherwise he looked okay. She gave a silent prayer and crossed the room to sit on the chair beside his bed. She needed Peter, now more than ever. They needed Peter. God, Neal… how had they missed that before? How many years had he carried that burden inside? Neal, who was so charming, so smart, so confident… so young… how could he even think that?

She started stroking Peter's hair when she noticed a small bandage in the back of his head. She grabbed his hand instead and finally started crying.

Twenty minutes later, the hand moved, and her name was called by a raspy voice. "El?"

"Hi hon," she said with a smile, hastily wiping her tears.

"Hey hon," Peter closed his eyes but opened them a second later in alarm. "Neal?" he asked.

"He's fine," Elizabeth responded, but she couldn't keep anything from Peter.

"El?"

"He's umm… he's blaming himself," she answered.

Peter wanted to say something, but it was too much. He closed his eyes.

The next time he woke up, Elizabeth was there again. She smiled and held his hand once more and he noticed Neal sleeping on another chair in the corner of the room. He was much more lucid, and after a quick exam by a nurse, Elizabeth finally revealed to him what she had discovered from Neal. Peter sighed and closed his eyes. He couldn't even begin to phantom what Neal must go through every day.

Neal had been wrong, he had done something stupid once more, but Peter had been there this time. Although he didn't take any pleasure in what he had done, the relief filled him completely when he remembered that Adler was gone, and that meant that Neal could finally start a new life. As soon as he got him to talk… What Elizabeth had said scared him. It wasn't a time for secrets anymore.

The fourth time Peter woke up he was alone with Neal. The teenager was sitting in the chair beside his bed, looking at him absently.

"Hey, buddy," Peter said, his voice calm and steady.

Neal's eyes shot up. "Peter?"

"Hey, Neal, what's up?" he asked.

That made Neal smile. "Nothing much, just, you know, tired of waiting for you to wake up properly. Geez, you would think enough sleep was enough."

Peter laughed, but it died a moment later.

"Neal, you're not bad."

The boy locked eyes with him, but Peter could see him shaking his head slightly.

"You are not bad," he said, emphasizing every word. "This wasn't your fault, you're just a kid. People make mistakes. I'm alright." He paused, and repeated, "You are not bad."

"Okay." Neal whispered the word. He wanted to believe. He needed to believe, but wasn't all the evidence against it?

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Peter pressed. "I got hurt, Mozzie got hurt… Kate, she died, but none of it, none of it, was your fault. In any way, none of it was your fault."

Neal's eyes filled with tears. God, why couldn't he stop crying lately? He wiped the tears. Peter wouldn't lie to him, right? Peter would never… He hesitated before speaking, he'd never told anyone before, but he could tell Peter. Maybe Peter would see it then.

"My mom…" His words caught in his throat. "I was there, when it happened."

Peter lifted himself up on the bed and he regarded Neal with dismay. He'd read the file. Neal's mom had been mugged one night after she was coming back from work. She had been assaulted, shot, and had bled to death in the street. Neal had been eleven. Nowhere in the file had it ever mentioned that Neal had been there. Had he seen his mother die?

Neal was talking again. Every word sounded more painful that the one before and Peter felt his own eyes filling with tears.

"She… she worked a lot. My dad had left her completely alone with a baby, and there were bills to pay. I was alone most of the time, but she was a good mom, you know?"

Peter nodded.

"We used to have dinner in the Diner where she worked once a week and then we'd walk home together." He paused, trying to find the right words, but there were none.

"This guy came out of nowhere. He held up a gun. My mom gave up her purse, and he was about to leave, when I stepped forward and I guess he panicked. He… shot her. He shot her and ran, and I was left alone in a street, in the middle of the night, with my mom bleeding to death."

Neal's whole body was shaking, he couldn't even see through his tears.

Peter reached over ignoring the pain from his shoulder. "Neal, I'm so sorry."

"I just stood there!" Neal exclaimed. "I stood there, and watched her die. I didn't do anything. I didn't call for help. I didn't help her."

"God Neal, you were just a boy. What could you have done?" There was a catch in Peter's voice, and Neal noticed for the first time that Peter was crying too.

"I don't know..." Neal trailed off. "If I hadn't stepped forward, or if I just hadn't been there in the first place, my mom would still be alive. Everyone else would still be okay. You wouldn't be in the hospital."

Peter's heart couldn't stand this anymore. "No, Neal. No." He grabbed him and hugged him, his muscles protesting. Neal hugged him back.

"Some things happen, and we don't have any control over them. What happened to you, it was horrible, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You did not make any of it happen. Neal, you're not bad."

Neal sobbed and shook. He cried while Peter held him. Peter rocked him and whispered reassuring nonsense in his ear. He cried until his body felt light and his face hurt, and then he fell asleep on the chair holding Peter's hand.