Thanks for the support; you are all the best. This is the most fun I have had in quite awhile, I must say.

I said before that I will post a chapter a day, baring death or dismemberment, however I must add to that list, loss of electricity and internet service. We are expecting 10 inches of heavy snow, and in the mountains, that can mean power outages. I will hope for the best,but just wanted to let you know in case.

Ignore any stupidity in the medical stuff...and as always;

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

Chapter Eight

Even before his arrival at the hospital, Neal had been administered oxygen, given medications to increase the function of his heart and to improve his blood pressure, received two units of blood and an iv. The medics estimated a 35 % blood volume loss-any more than 40% survival would have been unlikely. Immediately after his arrival, dozens of tests had been run, many to determine the extent of organ damage from the massive blood loss. Blood chemistry tests, including kidney function tests, and tests checking for evidence of heart muscle damage and an Echo-cardiogram to test on heart structure and function, just to name a few. Once the hypovolemic shock had been reversed, he had been rushed into surgery to repair the damage from the gunshot wound. Having suffered from so much physical trauma, it would be several days before Neal would be ready to go home.

After almost two days, Neal had regained consciousness. However highly medicated, he had been groggy and, for the most part, unresponsive. June and Elizabeth had taken turns sitting with him, holding his hand and speaking in soft, comforting tones. Both Diana and Jones had dropped by to check on Neal, and Peter was pretty sure that even Mozzie had made an appearance. Peter had refused to leave Neal's side during those first critical hours as they worked to stabilize him. When it was clear that he would be recover, Peter had finally left, going home to shower, shave and change clothes. He had gone to the office, assured Hughes that Neal would be okay, and finished up the paperwork related to the Bellington case.

He had been by to check on Neal each day, but they hadn't really talked. After the initial exchanges, there had settled an awkward silence between the two men. Peter tried to ease it by talking about some upcoming cases. Neal seemed preoccupied with the blanket covering him and added little to the conversation. After a few minutes Peter could see signs of fatigue on Neal's face, so he stood to make his escape. He patted the young man's arm encouragingly telling him to get some sleep and that he'd be back the next day. Neal accepted the gesture with thanks, both unable to meet the eyes of the other.

Neal's memory had not been greatly affected by the trauma, even though some of the later events while he lay near unconsciousness by the water, were fuzzy in his mind. Peter had found himself hoping that at least the events of the day would have been lost from Neal's memory. Especially the memory of those moments in the conference room, when in anger, Peter called him a criminal in front of all his co-workers. When Neal had been so upset that, face flushed, he had rushed from the room to be physically ill. And the worst part, the way Peter had met Neal's stunned, hurt look with a look of triumph. He didn't want Neal to remember that; in fact he wished that he could just erase those memories from both of their minds. He wished it had never happened. But Neal did remember; it was the source of the detachment he could see on the brief occasions when Neal would meet his eyes with his own.

"Neal," he said during his daily awkward visit. "About the other day, about what I said in the conference room…" Peter broke the silence in the room.

"Its okay, Peter," Neal said, his face tinged with color, suffering the same fate it had that day in the conference room. "I know you're mad about the Alex thing."

"I am not mad," Peter said, but then at Neal's look clarified. "I am not mad now. But yes, I was then." He admitted quietly. Neal didn't answer and didn't meet Peter's eyes. He picked absently at the threads of the blanket that covered him. A new pastime.

"I let you down," Neal said quietly. "I get that."

"Yeah, you did," Peter said. "You had information about the case and you kept it from me. I felt like I had been conned; conned by a friend. I felt like you had made a fool out of me."

"So it was payback, then, in the conference room?" Neal's face was pale again. "I made a fool out of you, so you returned the favor?"

"Yeah, maybe something like that," Peter said quietly.

When Neal looked at him, there was a flash of anger in his eyes. "Nothing I did was to hurt anyone. I was just trying to find a way to make everything work…a way to get Bellington for you and to save Alex, too. You mighta got hurt," He voice had risen anxiously but then he paused, calmed himself and looked away from Peter. "You mighta got hurt but it wasn't because I wanted to hurt you." He swallowed hard. "I don't hurt people on purpose."

Peter knew that dig was for him; he had hurt Neal on purpose. The words landed like a blow, but it was a blow he knew he deserved. Neal had taken his blows in the office; he would take his now. Peter put his hand on Neal's arm and felt his friend grow tense under his touch. "I'm sorry, Neal."

Neal didn't respond to the apology and adjusted his position on the bed slightly, turning his face from Peter. Hampered by his injuries, he couldn't outright turn his back to Peter but the gesture was clear. He pulled the blanket up, past his chin, almost covering his pale face.

"Please go, Peter," he said quietly, "I'm tired. I just wanna sleep now."

Not the response to his apology he had hoped for, Peter stood. Neal was upset and angry, and he had every right to be. Dismissed, Peter left the room.