I own nothing but the mistakes, for which I accept all responsibility.
Chapter Ten
Peter found Neal sitting in a recliner by the window, a blanket over his lap. He was getting stronger. The hospital staff had encouraged him to sit up several hours today; he had even had a brief stroll down the hallway earlier. It had been four days since he had lost sight of Neal beneath the murky waters. Neal had shaven and was dressed in pajamas instead of a hospital gown. Obviously June had been by, bearing gifts, in preparation for his discharge the following morning.
"You look better," Peter said. "I hear they are letting you out of here tomorrow."
"That is the plan." Neal flipped through the Aesthetica magazine on his lap. "How's Elizabeth?"
"Good, just been busy. She said to tell you she was sorry about not getting by yesterday. She will come and sneak you some food after work."
Neal smiled, "That's nice. I will look forward to it." Eyes still on the pages of the Art and Culture magazine. Neal was healing, but there was more than a gunshot wound that needed to be healed; and unfortunately it had been Peter who had inflicted the more damaging injury to the young man.
"Look, Neal," Peter pulled the plastic chair from the other side of the table and placed it near Neal. He sat down and leaned forward towards his friend, "We need to talk."
The sound that escaped from Neal was not that of a pleased man.
"We need to talk about what happened the other day" the pause was heavy "the way I treated you at the office before we went to meet the buyer."
"We did talk about it," Neal said, looking at Peter, "I hurt you, you hurt me back. We are even. Let's put it behind us, okay?" The recent dispassionate look in his eyes had changed to one of pleading.
"I was angry, but there is no excuse for how I treated you, Neal."
Neal sighed resignedly, leaning against the back of the chair. He closed his eyes. "I hate it when you are mad at me." His words were echoes of the shock induced rambling on the river bank.
"Really?" Peter said, keeping his tone light. "It happens so often I didn't think it phased you anymore."
"Well, it does. That whole day," he opened his eyes and looked at Peter with a pained look "it was so bad," he paused, "You know it's bad when getting shot isn't the low point of your day."
"I know it was bad" Peter said, "and I am sorry." He would say it as many times as Neal needed to hear it.
"I just wanted to disappear." He said quietly, looking away.
Peter remembered Neal's reaction in the briefing room, guilt again washing over him for his actions. He reached over and squeezed Neal's hand.
"I never want you to disappear, Neal, never." The touch and the sincerity of his words brought Neal's eyes to meet his own. "But sometimes it scares me that you might," He added with equal sincerity "There is a life out there that I know still calls to you. I guess it scares me that someone might show up one day, and you will just disappear."
"Just because I helped Alex doesn't mean I'm going anywhere. I don't want to work with her." Neal said simply, eyes falling back to the magazine on his lap. "I work with you now."
Peter released Neal's hand and leaned back in his chair. "I know. But there is so much out there that I don't know about-so many people that might have more influence on you..."
Neal moved his foot from beneath the covers, the anklet in its place, and looked at Peter. "You own me, Peter, so I wouldn't worry too much about having limited influence over my life choices." He even managed a smile. "And if I disappeared you would just call up my tracking data and come find me."
The smile, although weak, was accompanied by an almost playful expression in the blue eyes. This encouraged Peter; he was making progress.
Peter returned the smile. "Yes, I would," He agreed. "I always find you Neal." Neal was spared a reply when his lunch arrived.
"Time for lunch, Mr. Caffrey," the young lady announced, "You want out of here tomorrow, you have got to be eating today." Peter stood up and moved his chair, helping position the mobile table to hold Neal's tray.
After the lady's departure, Neal removed the cover, grimacing at the content.
"Elizabeth better bring me something worth eating, or I am going to starve to death."