Note: I had a ton of fun with this chapter! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Eleven

Too angry to even think to invite the three men standing on his front step at one in the morning inside Peter waited for Frost to explain himself with his hand still firmly on the grip of his gun. Neal was as ivory as the scrubs he was wearing. He looked like he was suffering from a miserable hangover but when he brought his head up and caught sight of Peter he smiled brightly in relief.

"Peter!" Neal greeted cheerfully, but then instantly winced in pain as his own voice was too loud for his current condition. "How are you doing?"

"Better than you."

"No, no…I'm okay." Neal suddenly furrowed his brow as if he realized that that might not be true before he looked to Frost. "I'm okay, right?"

"You're fine." Frost assured.

"Are you sure? My head *really* hurts."

"Neal…" Peter stepped forward to help Neal but stopped when Neal's eyes suddenly widened in fear.

"I'm going to be sick." Neal warned urgently.

"Again?" Bryant complained.

"The bathroom is rig…" Peter was cut off again as Bryant quickly lead Neal off the front steps and onto the small lawn.

"He's not going to make it that far." Frost explained apologetically. "It's either the azalea bushes or your carpet. Trust me, I already failed to pull the car over in time earlier."

Peter narrowed his eyes at Frost as Neal started to noisily retch into the bushes.

"See?" Frost chuckled.

"What the hell did you do to him?!" Peter snarled.

"I didn't do anything, I swear. It was totally unforeseeable circumstances…"

"What's not going to be 'unforeseeable' is the violence that is about to unfold if I don't get a straight answer right this instant!"

"It's okay, Peter, it's not Frost's fault." Neal said as he pushed away from Bryant and made his way unsteadily up the steps to rescue Frost. "Apparently I improvised."

"Apparently?" Peter questioned Neal's word usage.

"See now I thought that 'improvised' was the more crucial word in that statement." Frost noted.

"Someone just tell me what happened." Peter demanded angrily causing Neal to flinch as his headache flared.

"Everything was going fine until Neal decided to dive off a third story balcony into the shallow end of a pool." Frost answered simply. "And after knocking himself unconscious and almost drowning he now has a mild to moderate concussion. Hence the confusion and the memory loss."

"I don't remember any of that." Neal said with a sheepish look. "But is does sound like something I'd do."

"It certainly does…" Peter grumbled. "Come on, Neal, we need to get you to a hospital."

"I think I was just there." Neal replied confused.

"We're not animals, Peter." Frost said defensively. "We took him straight to Fort Meade and the Medical CO gave him a full work up…"

"That I do remember." Neal interrupted. "At least most of it. Something about a tetanus shot?"

"Yes," Frost nodded "when we were high tailing it through the woods Neal got caught on some old horse fencing and cut his arm."

"I don't remember that." Neal mused to himself, losing focus as he stared at his wrapped arm. "My arm is all numb. Is that normal?"

"That's just the lidocane, you needed some stitches and a tetanus shot. Nothing serious."

"If you say so." Neal shrugged with a yawn. "Can I lay down? Or am I not allowed to do that with a concussion? Kinda having a hard time thinking. I'm really tired…did I mention my head hurts?"

Still standing on the front step Neal bowed his head in exhaustion as he closed his eyes. Frost went to put his arm around Neal's waist to help him stay on his feet however Peter stopped him by reaching out and taking Neal by the upper arm to encourage him to step into the house. Stumbling forward Peter had to catch Neal to keep him off his knees. Breathing heavily Neal leaned against Peter's chest and took a moment to recover before standing back up on his own. Chastising himself for wasting time arguing with Frost rather than getting Neal laying down Peter helped him through the living room the back guest room.

Frost invited himself inside to follow Peter. Bryant balked at the doorway worrying about the FBI Agent's reaction to them just making themselves at home in his house. Stepping inside and catching up with Frost Bryant reached out and tugged on Frost's shirt in a silent suggestion that they say good-night before any further confrontation. Pulling away from Bryant Frost put up his hand with one finger up to let him know he'd only be a second. After an eventful night Frost was limping heavily, but he did his best to ignore the old injury. Sighing in defeat Bryant followed along, stopping at the doorway to the bed room he stood just outside it as if on guard.

Peter knew Frost had followed him in, he wasn't happy about it but he was more focused on getting Neal in bed before he passed out. Frost stayed close in case Peter needed more help but he didn't interfere with the pair. Putting his gun down on the night stand Peter sat Neal down on the edge of the bed and put his hands on his shoulders for a moment to make sure he didn't fall back. Not confident that Neal wasn't going to tip over Peter kept one hand on Neal's shoulder while he bent down and used the other to untie the lacing on the heavy boots that Neal was wearing. Neal peacefully sat on the bed and allowed Peter to help him get the shoes off. After dealing with the shoes Peter stayed knelt down and encouraged Neal to look directly at him. Guessing what Peter was doing Neal stared unblinkingly at Peter to prove to him that his pupils were equally dilated and that he didn't have any serious neurological damage.

"We tried to get him to stay at the Fort sick bay," Frost explained before Peter could accuse him of anything. "He was so agitated and demanding to see you that the doctor thought it would be better if we just did what he wanted and let him calm naturally rather than drugging him. I know he seems really confused, but other than the concussion his tests all came back negative, there's no bleed in his brain so it's safe to let him rest as long as someone watches him for the next twenty-four hours. Bryant and I can…"

"No." Peter interrupted coldly. "You've done enough. I'll take care of him from here."

"You look angry, Peter." Neal stated warily before looking to Frost. "Maybe you shouldn't leave me with him, he look really angry."

"I'm not angry at you, Neal."

"Are you sure?" Neal asked doubtfully in his dazed state. "That's your 'Neal, I don't approve of you life choices' face."

"Just lay down."

Neal didn't need to be told twice and with Peter's help he swung his leg up onto the bed. Worried about the palpable tension between everyone in the room Neal struggled to stay awake however it didn't take more than a few seconds before he lost the fight. Peter stood back up and reached down to press his finger tips against Neal's throat to check his pulse which he found to be steady and strong.

"Peter…" Frost started.

"Get out of my house."

"Peter, I'm sorr…"

Frost was caught by surprise when Peter suddenly rushed him. Crossing his forearm over Frost's chest Peter drove him up against the wall and pinned him there. Frost didn't struggle but he did bring his hand up slightly so that he could strike Peter in the ribs if he had to. Bryant's automatic response to the violence was to unholster his weapon with blinding speed and train it on Peter with his finger held just off the trigger. Ignoring Bryant Peter bared his teeth at Frost in pure rage.

"Let him go, Agent Burke." Bryant growled dangerously. "Right now."

"Stand down, Bryant." Frost ordered.

Bryant backed down instantly and holstering his weapon even though he kept on alert to intervene. It hadn't really been his intention to take aim at Peter it was just his training being triggered and once he was committed to the show of force he felt he had to follow through with it until Frost gave him a way out.

"Peter, I know that you were already worried about Neal stealing again and that this hasn't hel…"

"I'm worried that you aren't going to be happy until you get him killed!" Peter hissed angrily.

"I never meant for Neal to get hurt and I am certainly not looking to get anyone killed."

"You couldn't allow him to adjust to being an Agent for even a week in fear that he'd become useless to you," Peter accused darkly "you had to force him back into his old life before he could even get a handle on his new one. So you just blindly threw him into a situation that you couldn't control, and he paid the price for it."

"I didn't force him into this, but I did push him, and that was a mistake." Frost admitted seriously. "You're right though, Neal's heart wasn't in it and I found out the hard way that he is *spectacularly* bad at following orders."

"I could have told you that if you'd bothered to ask." Peter spat as he pushed himself away from Frost.

"I know now I jumped into all of this too quickly. For that I am genuinely sorry." Frost apologized. "I took Neal out into the field before he trusted me, I had no right to do that."

"No you didn't."

"But it wasn't for the reasons that you're thinking." Frost added. "I was in a rush and that of course is when mistakes happen. What did Neal tell you about what we were doing tonight?"

"Almost nothing."

"Not a surprise, he wasn't as keen on this as I thought he'd be. In any case, a painting showed up on the Ivory List that was in a private residence rather than a museum and I had to act fast to prevent civilian blood shed. Neal pulled it off despite having very little time to plan and he save a family of four from what could have been a violent and bloody break in if someone had beaten us to it, not to mention he kept a healthy sum of money out of undesirable hands. You should be proud of him, Peter, he did good tonight."

Peter didn't respond, but he did relax some of the anger that had been holding his shoulder blades tight. Seeing the change in Peter's stance Frost took the chance of moving away from the wall carefully to take a step away from Peter and towards Bryant.

"We are on the same side Peter," Frost said quietly "I will prove that to you."

"We may be on the same side, but we don't play by the same rules and that's no way to form a team."

"You're right. We will figure out a compromise later, okay?"

"It's not like I have a choice." Peter said in bitter defeat.

"I know that you feel like you've made a deal with the Devil with me, but I know that we can make this work. We both want the same things Agent Burke, we will find a way to get them together."

"Just leave."

"Alright." Frost reached into his cargo pants and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen that he wrote a phone number on. "Call this number if Neal's condition gets worse in any way, they'll have a better response time than 911 and they already know his medical history."

Peter accepted the number than Frost handed him and nodded but couldn't bring himself to say 'thank you'. Frost looked to Bryant and flashed him a 'I think that went well as could be expected' smile. Bryant just shook his head sadly and turned to head for the front door to leave. Frost looked Neal over for a moment with a guilty expression before limping off after Bryant.

"…Frost?" Peter called before he could get too far.

"Yes?"

"Neal isn't doing any more of these 'missions' without me."

"Agreed."

"And don't come to my house ever again. If Neal needs me you call me and I will come to him."

"Understood."

Peter waited for Frost and Bryant to both leave before he walked up to the door and locked it behind them. With his adrenaline starting to come down Peter found himself suddenly fighting a bone weary fatigue despite still having a nervous knot tied in his stomach. Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself Peter went to the bottom of the stairs and looked up to where Elizabeth was standing at the top looking anxious. He figured that she would be woken by the argument. He wasn't sure if she had known not to get involved or if she had simply been too frightened to come down the stairs, either way he was grateful that she had stayed out of it. He could hear Satchmo whine softly from where she had locked him in the bedroom.

"Hey, Hon." Peter smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry about all that."

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked concerned.

"I am. Frost and I just don't see eye to eye yet."

"How's Neal? He sounded like he's in pretty bad shape."

"He just needs some sleep."

"So do you."

"I'll be up soon, I just need to check on him first." Peter said. "Are you alright?"

Elizabeth nodded even though she still looked apprehensive. Peter smiled warmly at her and assured her again that he'd be upstairs soon. Going back to where Neal was sleeping deeply Peter sat down on the edge of the bed to collect his thoughts for a moment. To Peter's surprise Neal woke with a breathless gasp of panic as he jerked his injured arm up to shield his face. Before Peter could even react Neal recognized him and instantly calmed.

"Peter." Neal greeted in relief as he relaxed nearly to the point of falling back asleep. "Where's Frost?"

"He left."

"You didn't kill him?"

"No. I seriously thought about it though."

"It's not his fault he couldn't control me." Neal smiled as he closed his eyes. "It sounds like I was more trouble tonight than I'm worth and he's still sticking by me, so maybe we're wrong about him."

"We'll talk about it later."

"Hell of a night." Neal chuckled weakly still sounding drunk. "I wish I remembered more of it."

"So do I."

"Ow…" Neal suddenly complained as he hugged his injured arm against his chest.

"Neal?"

"The lidocane is wearing off…I must have gotten really wrapped up in that damn fence."

"Can I see?"

Keeping his eyes closed Neal just raised his bandaged arm trustingly. Peter carefully unwrapped the tightly wrapped bandage to look at the cut. With the amount of gauze that the doctor had used Peter was expecting a somewhat sizable injury, but he wasn't expecting the large gash to run in a perfect arc across the entire length of Neal's forearm. The cut was very clean and had been stitched together carefully with a series of tiny blue stitches, from the distribution of stitches Peter could see the cut was shallow by the wrist but became fairly deep closer to the elbow. The area was red but it didn't look infected or even particularly swollen. Neal pried his eyes open and turned his arm in Peter's gently hold so that he could see it.

"Wow…that's going to leave a mark." Neal said impressed.

"You really don't remember anything about getting this?"

"Nothing."

Peter furrowed his brow as he continued to inspect the unusual diagonal injury. Having grown up in upstate New York surrounded by horse farms Peter was intimately familiar with the kind of damage a broken piece of horse fencing could do. He had a faded scar running down his left calf to prove it. However his own encounter with the piece of barbed metal at the edge of a field had left him with a jagged zig-zag injury that had gotten infected right away despite treatment. Neal's cut was perfectly defined with clean edges. The injury didn't look like an accident catch on a rusty fence the way Frost had described it. To Peter it looked more like a defensive wound you would received when raising an arm to protect your eyes from a deliberate slashing attack with a razor sharp blade.

"Peter? What's wrong?"

"…nothing. Just get some sleep."