A/N Read, Love, Review, you know the drill. I would just like to thank Jommy26 once again for giving me this amazing prompt and I am excited for the rest of the story to happen. Enjoy!
Neal looked in the mirror, he didn't look like himself. They dyed his hair a strawberry blonde and made his eyes two different colors. They dressed him in a black graphic T and long dark wash jeans. They put in fake earrings and painted his nails red. He was going in as the "muscle" of the operation, sure Sam had the ability to wound other people but he preferred others to do it. In this case Neal was being hired to threaten, well… to threaten himself. Although his name wasn't Neal anymore, it was Adrian Coyle. He was going in to meet Sam, get close to him, map the place out and then they would get a warrant and nail this guy. But Neal had a few other plans, he wanted to find where Kate was, he wanted to free whatever artist mule he had at the moment and he wanted to make sure that no one got hurt.
Tears bubbled up in Neal's newly colored eyes and he blinked them away. This whole process was hurting him, eating him from the inside out. He was glad that Kate was still alive but he didn't know if she had ever loved him. He liked that the past year was simple, that he wasn't at odds with Peter once they got over Fowler and Adler. It was simpler when there wasn't a girl in the picture and Peter trusted him more as his old con friends started to fade. Now Peter was on edge and Neal didn't know if he would survive this process. There was a pain by Neal's heart and he realized that he was breathing way too fast. Suddenly, his thoughts went on overdrive. There was Adler and Fowler, Sam, and Kate, Mozzie barely sticking around, Peter angry at him. Neal was on his knees now and struggling to keep conscious. His lungs felt sharp and every breath he took his heart ached more and more. Black licked the edges of his vision. He was In the FBI bathroom; all he had to do was get Peter to come. Lifting an impossibly stiff and heavy leg he crawled to the door. He pounded it open; Peter was just down the blue hallway, wrapped up in his glass office.
"Peter!" Neal cried, wincing when it burned his too dry throat and caused more pain to spike in his chest. His mind was becoming fuzzy and Peter hadn't looked up. "P-p'ter." Neal slurred, his breathing slowing down and his vision tunneling.
"What do you need Neal?" Peter spat out, looking up from his desk.
In an instant Pete was on his feet, in the door of the bathroom the newly designed Neal was slumped against the tan doorway leading to the bathroom. His eyes were closed; his pink lips parted allowing some air to get in but barely. Jones saw Peter racing through the hallway like a man with his pants on fire and followed suit. He dropped off when he saw Neal, the single person that Peter was headed towards, to call a bus. Peter reached Neal and he couldn't help but be nervous at the paleness of his skin. It was the color of milk, the fake freckles they had added on like stars against a perfectly blank sky. Tear trails led down Neal's face and his strawberry blonde hair flipped down his face. Peter gripped his hand, searching for a pulse, it was fast and thready, his breathing was shallow, and Peter was left to piece together the pieces of events.
"Neal? Dammit Neal, wake up. I need your snarky comments to make it through the morning and El needs a cooking buddy." Peter stated, trying to coax Neal's green and brown eyes to open. He stirred, groaning but his eyes remained closed. "Neal, wake up, we have mortgage fraud cases!" Peter yelled.
"P'tr." Neal slurred, his mind still fuzzy and his head ached from hitting the door a bit too hard. He blinked up at Peter and ran a manicured hand through his sandy hair. "You look funny crouching down like that." Neal stated, pointing a finger at Peter's half crouch, half slumped figure.
"Well, your brain is working enough to insult me, can you stand?" Peter asked, shooing off Jones and the paramedics that had just arrived.
"Yeah." Neal replied, pushing off with shaking arms and swatting Peter's helping hands. He rose to his normal stature only to almost collapse. With complaints, Neal allowed Peter to guide him to his couch.
"What happened?" Peter questioned once they had made it to the comfort of his couch.
"Nothing. I'm fine." Neal stated. Bowing his head, he knew that he should have told Peter how he couldn't breathe and how he panicked, and then Peter could help him. But his con-man mind kept flashing a DON'T SHOW VULNERBILITY sign whenever he even thought about it. Weakness meant defeat and defeat meant injury or death. He glared at me and I sighed.
"I don't know. All these thoughts about Sam and Kate and Mozzie and our falling out got to me. I just couldn't breathe and you weren't there." Neal stopped, coaxing his breathing back to normal.
"Neal, look at me." Peter stated and Neal blushed. Peter was trying to be gentle, comforting, he hated to see Neal so broken, the charming con-man replaced by a worn down, traumatized young man.
"What?" Neal whimpered, staring at Peter straight on.
"I know that you are scared, scared that you will lose me again but Neal. That falling out sucked, I was angry but every time I saw that you weren't there, it killed me. I need you, Neal. You are part of my life. And if you think that I can live without your mindless babbling and pointless preferences you are wrong. So, Cowboy up." Peter explained and Neal smiled at the 'Cowboy up'. Peter meant what he said and as long as Neal believed that, everything would turn out fine.
A/N What do you guys think about Neal's new look? Do you like it, are you concerned? Don't worry, the dye washes out! Anyway, thanks for reading, I will post more soon. Please review!