This chapter is a bit longer than previous ones. Just the way it turned out. Six more to go after this one...twelve total. I know nothing about medical stuff so ignore any stupidity. I research a bit, but mostly make it up as I go. It is all in fun!

Thanks for reading and for all the reviews, folks! They mean a lot to me and keep me encouraged.

As always, I own nothing but the mistakes, for which I accept all responsibility

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Chapter Six

As Peter shifted his position, Neal's eyes fluttered open. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, even though his skin was cool. Jones pulled Neal into a sitting position, and Peter held him steady while Jones applied a pressure bandage to the exit wound. Peter could feel the young man's body trembling against his own. The bandage in place, Jones spread a clear plastic sheet on the ground and eased Neal back on it. Peter again applied pressure to the wound inches beneath Neal's collar bone. Blue eyes, full of pain and questions, met Peter's brown ones; the pale lips parted, a groan escaping them. The sound was pitiful. "I'm sorry," he said again. He knew he was hurting Neal, and he didn't want to.

But he had wanted to earlier, Peter remembered in horror. Back in the conference room-Had that really only been two hours ago?-there had been hurt, and disbelief in Neal's face and Peter had enjoyed seeing it. He had intentionally inflicted pain so suddenly, so without warning, that even the great Neal Caffrey had been unable to hide his reaction to it. He had been disappointed in Neal, questioning his loyalty to the bureau, but the anger came from his questioning of Neal's loyalty to him. Those feelings had inspired his rage and ignited a cruel streak that he didn't know he possessed. He had humiliated Neal during the briefing and made sure that Neal knew that he enjoyed doing it. That memory brought a lump to Peter's throat, and he apologized again; not for the pressure he was applying to Neal's injuries but for something else entirely. "I am so sorry, Neal.'

He had spent the day punishing Neal, but when Bellington's buyer freaked out, holding a gun, Neal had stepped between the gunman and Peter. When he was dangling over swirling dark water and Peter was his only hold on safety, Neal had chosen to let go. "You can't hold both of us, Peter" Neal had said. And when Neal realized that Peter couldn't make that choice, he had done so himself. And he had questioned the man's loyalty? He closed his eyes in shame.

"He's out, again, Peter," Jones's urgent voice brought Peter to the present, and he saw that Neal's eyes were closed. "You got to wake him up; He does not need to sleep right now."

Peter nodded in understanding. "Neal," he said, "You need to open your eyes." Stripping off his jacket, Jones went to Neal's legs and used it to elevate them a few inches, and then folding the extra length of the blanket to add a few more. It wasn't much, but it was all they could do until the medics arrived. Slow down the bleeding, keep Neal warm and awake and help his heart deal with the low volume of blood circulating in his veins. He glanced at Neal's pale face; his eyes were still closed. "Wake him up, Peter."

"Neal," Peter urged again, shaking the man's body "Open your eyes and look at me." Still no response.

"Dammit, Neal, wake up!"

The frustrated tone cut through Neal's muddled brain, and the dark eyelashes fluttered. Peter saw a glimmer of blue, but his relief melted at the look that met his. Clearly distressed, Neal cried out weakly "I'm…I'm sorry!" His trembling increased; his hand grabbed Peter's shirt desperately. "Please don't be mad at me, Peter."

Peter looked at Jones helplessly.

"Peter," Jones said earnestly "anxiety is a symptom of shock, of blood loss." Jones had witnessed the tension between his boss and Neal today, and he knew that guilt was eating away at Peter. But there was no time for thoughts of self-recrimination right now. "You need to focus on keeping him awake and as calm as possible. I am going to see where our medics are." He gave Peter's arm an awkward squeeze before jumping up and leaving.

"Please," Neal was repeating weakly, "please don't be mad..." still distressed; not calm. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat and focused on what Jones had said. Awake and Calm.

"I am not mad at you, Neal," Peter assured him gently but allowed urgency in his voice when he added, "but you have to stay awake. You cannot sleep right now, do you understand?"

"hate it when…when you are mad at me." Neal mumbled, tears welling up in his dazed eyes and making a trail in the mud and grime down the sides of his face. "It makes me just want to…to disappear." His eyes closed on those words, and Peter gently tapped his cheek.

"Look at me, Neal," Peter said. When the eyes opened, he continued, "I am not mad at you, Neal, and even when I am, I do not ever want you to disappear."

"It feels like you do," he answered weakly.

Peter remembered the blush on Neal's face in the briefing room and the way he had dropped his head. That is how he had looked; like he wanted to disappear. Pain struck through Peter's heart at the memory, but it was a pain he knew he deserved to feel.

"I am sorry Neal," Peter's voice broke on the words. Awake and Calm, he told himself and when he continued his voice was steady, "Everything is okay now. Everything is going to be okay."

Moments later Peter looked up in relief. "Here we are," Jones said, looking in concern at Neal. The Medics had arrived; they were carrying a gurney between them, with two boxes of equipment sitting on it.

"I'm cold Peter," Neal said suddenly; his tone sharper. Peter met Neal's wide eyes "and I'm scared."

"Its okay, Neal," Peter said, hoping it was true now that help had arrived. "I am right here with you."

"Don't leave me," Neal whispered, eyes pleading weakly.

"I won't," Peter said, watching the eyes become dull, "I've got you."

Neal's eyes closed then, and the grip he had on Peter's shirt relaxed. Peter took Neal's hand in his own and squeezed it. He felt Neal squeeze back.

"Don't let me go." Neal's voice was barely audible.

"I won't, Neal," Peter said, "I promise I won't let you go."