NOTE: If you really want to worry about the CIA look up project MKUltra...

Chapter Twelve

Caught in the grip of a chaotic and violent nightmare Neal fought with an imaginary foe until real pain broke through and tore him away from his dreams. Neal's heart slammed against his chest from a combination of the vivid dream and the sharp pain that was lancing up his contorted arm. Disoriented and convinced of a threat Neal kicked at the tangle of sheets that had snaked around him and pinned him down. With panic clouding his thinking and a powerful spasm keeping his arm curled tight against his chest Neal failed to free himself from the harmless sheets as he spiraled further into panic.

His shoulder injury had been annoying on and off but this was the first time it had truly gotten out of control in months and he didn't make the connection between the past injury and his current situation. Throwing his head back against the pillow Neal cried out in panic against the seemingly sourceless pain. He'd barely had time to take another breath before Peter opened the door and cautiously approached in an attempt to not startle his struggling partner. Quickly seeing an easy way to free Neal from the twisted sheet Peter pulled on the edge of it to release him which went a long way towards helping him calm down.

"Peter?"

"You're okay, you're safe." Peter said calmly. "Try to relax."

Although still in pain Neal nodded. Grinding his teeth together Neal's quick shallow breaths hissed across his teeth as he struggled to follow Peter's advice. With Peter there Neal had been able to cut through his initial confusion and realized that he was wasn't in any immediate danger, but he was having a difficult time convincing his rebellious arm of that. The hectic night, the slash down his arm, and waking in the unfamiliar surroundings had triggered his conversion disorder symptoms with a vengeance. Trying to focus Neal weld his eyes shut against a powerful headache that suddenly assaulted his already overtaxed senses

Neal reached up to try and pry his arm away from his chest himself but it only made it worse. Usually if he could just get the muscles stretched out they calmed down. Between the dive off the balcony and the late night Neal didn't have the strength at the moment to move the tight joints and trying was aggravating his headache. In the past before he'd known about the psychosomatic condition when he'd woken like this he'd chewed on a handful of Percocet to solve the issue, but he had refused a Vicodin prescription last night when the Army doctor at Fort Meade had offered it to him in fear of rekindling the addiction even if he had genuine need for the pain killer. Wishing he hadn't said no now Neal continued to struggle against the powerful phantom pain.

"Can I help?" Peter asked before moving to touch Neal.

"Please." Neal panted.

"Okay. Breath."

Neal nodded and concentrated on taking a few deep breaths while Peter worked on getting his hand between Neal's wrist and his chest. Once he got a good hold of Neal's wrist, being carefully of the fresh cut, Peter pushed down on the front of Neal's shoulder where the scar from the entrance wound marred his skin. The pressure helped Neal's nervous system understand that the injury was in the past and began to loosen the muscles. It still took a bit of force but Peter was able to pull Neal's arm away from his body. Prying Neal's hand open Peter switched his grip from his wrist to taking his hand to help keep it open as he continued to stretch out his arm. Managing a truly deep breath Neal was able to slowly regain control and relaxed to the point where he could release his painfully tight grip on Peter's hand. After taking a moment to recover Neal sat up without help. He rolled his shoulder back a few times and flexed his arm until the tone returned mostly to normal.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you, Peter."

"I was afraid that was going to be a problem again with everything that happened last night."

"At my last check up Dr Harris said that it might take a while before I am completely free of relapses, but they are becoming less frequent and until now they've far less intense." Neal opened and closed his hand to help remove the last of the tingling. "I still don't fully understand how something in my head can manifest physically so powerfully."

"You're still seeing the CIA doctor?"

"I asked Frost if I could see him when I was having some trouble with my shoulder at the Academy. He was the only doctor that really helped me or even believed me."

"That's true."

"Hopefully this morning was just a one time thing. Last night was pretty rough…from what I remember."

"Any of the missing pieces coming back?"

"Some of them. Did I throw up in your bushes?"

"You did." Peter sighed.

"Everything is still really patchy, even the visit to Fort Meade is hazy. I recall Bryant being more concerned than Frost, at least I think that's what was going on. He kept pulling Frost away and talking to him in a hushed worried tone."

"Frost was certainly more caviler about the situation last night on the front step than Bryant."

Neal nodded, instantly regretting doing so as his headache flared again. He tried to think back on Frost and Bryant's behavior last night, but it didn't really seem out of the ordinary. Bryant had certain intensity about him that Frost didn't have. Bryant certainly had a sense of humor and often gave off a very laid back vibe, but he went from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye when he perceived a threat and stayed on high alert for an extended period of time once set into motion. Neal had this vague memory of Bryant's lip pulled away from his teeth in a snarl like an enraged wolf about to tear into its competitor. He couldn't place what had happened to give him that image, but he felt a sinking fearful feeling in his stomach when he thought about the expression. Neal tried but he couldn't put together any coherent thoughts on what had happened in the woods after the break in other than a sense of adrenaline and fear. However it didn't make any sense, if Bryant had attacked him he'd be dead not injured.

"Neal?" Peter brought Neal back to the present. "You okay?"

"Peter…" Neal hesitated. "Do you think Frost would drug me?"

"Yes." Peter replied instantly.

"Wow, you didn't even think about that."

"I thought about it all night."

"You think I might be the latest MKUltra test subject?" Neal asked only partly joking.

"Maybe." Peter said seriously. "I seriously considered dragging you out of bed and taking you to the hospital for a tox screen."

"Why didn't you?"

"I realized there was no point." Peter said sounding frustrated. "If Frost did drug you he would have just switched out any test results we tried to get done."

"Usually I'd tease you for acting like a paranoid Mozzie, but in this case you're probably just right."

"I'm not saying he did, but Frost is more than capable of both drugging you and covering it up. The first time he decided you needed medical attention he straight out kidnapped you."

"That was as weird night." Neal agreed as he rubbed his shoulder. "But why drug me?"

"Simple, you saw something he didn't want you see."

"Or someone." Neal added looking at the stitched up slash in his arm.

"That does look like a defensive wound to me." Peter agreed. "You really don't remember anything about how that happened?"

"My last clear memory before arriving at Fort Meade is entering the room that had the painting, I don't even remember taking it. But I don't see what could have possibly gone so wrong that Frost felt the need to muck with my memory. It was just a heist."

"Was it?" Peter asked seriously. "I know that's what you were doing, but what were Frost and Bryant up to while you broke in. I assume they didn't come with you into the house."

"No, they stayed at the edge of the woods…but I asked them to do that." Neal said as he pieced his memory together. "They would have come with me if I asked, Frost put me in charge."

"But he'd know you work alone when it comes to these things and that you'd most likely ask them to stay behind."

"We could play Devil's Advocate on this back and forth all morning, couldn't we?" Neal sighed. "Maybe we really are being paranoid, things go wrong all the time."

"Particularly around you."

"And I do have a concussion like headache, not to mention the muscles down my back feel very much like they suffered an impact." Neal complained as he rubbed his sore lower back.

"I suppose that the simple answer here is that you really did jump off the balcony and ended up with a concussion rather than some elaborate scheme that involves Roofie-ing you." Peter admitted although he didn't sound convinced. "I've seen you dive out windows before, so I know you're insane enough to do it."

"Hey, I had a plan when I did that." Neal chuckled. "The look on your face was priceless."

"Even if everything Frost told us about last night is true I still don't like it." Peter said ignoring the jab. "Next time I'm coming with you."

"I'm not sure that's such a great idea." Neal warned. "I don't want you to have to steal with me. Even if it's sanctioned I know it will keep you up at night, it's not who you are."

"I can handle it. Leaving you alone with Frost keeps me up at night anyway. I should have been there for you last night."

"If Frost did drug me last night he would have just drugged you too...and I wouldn't wish this headache on my worst enemy."

Peter gave Neal a sympathetic look as Neal winched for effect. Peter took a breath to say something more when his cell phone rang. Neal flinched at the shrill sound causing Peter to dig the phone out of his pocket quickly to answer it. Peter mostly listened to the caller just offering occasional quick yes or no answers to let the caller know he understood. Hanging up the phone Peter released a deeply frustrated sigh. Neal knew Peter hated losing control of the situation and with Frost that was exactly what was happening. At the moment they didn't really have any solid evidence against trusting Frost and even if they did there wasn't really anything they could do about it. Neal still felt that Frost had made him an Agent and he could take that away just as quickly if he wanted to. They would have to just wait until the next time Frost asked for something to see what the best course of action was then. Peter stared pensively at nothing in particular looking a little overwhelmed.

"Everything okay?" Neal asked concerned. "Was that Frost?"

"No. Were you in Baltimore last night?"

"Yes." Neal confirmed. "That I do remember."

"Then at least part of Frost's story lines up. That was the Baltimore PD calling to open a top priority Art Crime file with the FBI. There was a B and E at the Bashiri residence last night, it would appear that he got in through the automatic dog door by luring the family pet out, and stole an Afshin Pirhashemi painting."

"I was proud of the dog door trick," Neal beamed "please tell Satchmo for me that Labs are the best."

"Satchmo wouldn't have let you get away with that."

"He certainly didn't stop me when I broke in to your house to…you know what, never mind." Neal said seeing the look Peter was giving him.

"Back to this crime," Peter said sternly "Mr. Bashiri interrupted the theft and the intruder jumped from the balcony to the pool below. Luckily he didn't get a look at your face."

"Did they say if Bashiri saw what happened next down in the pool? Frost claims that Bryant had to jump in to save me."

"He raced down to his bedroom to call 911, by the time he looked back outside you were gone."

"That's no help."

"Not really." Peter sighed heavily again.

"All in all this is good news, Peter, it tells us that Frost was telling the truth."

"I'm not willing to go that far, but it certainly shows he wasn't lying about everything. However I still really don't want to take this case knowing that I have to lie and I certainly don't want taking you to talk to Bashiri in case he recognizes something about you even if he doesn't think he saw your face."

"So give the case to someone else." Neal shrugged. "You're the Boss, you can do that. Besides we have the Bone Baron to go meet. We're already on an active case with the missing skulls, no one will think twice if you assign this to Agent Aubrey."

"That's not a good idea."

"Why not? Agent Aubrey is your ASAC after all, he's the obvious choice for a high profile case."

"Agent Aubrey doesn't like you."

"So?"

"So he's already highly suspicious of you."

"I still don't see the problem. I don't remember everything, but I know I didn't leave behind any hard evidence, I'm better than that. Besides, why would Aubrey even suspect me of this in the first place?"

"Because your crimes have a certain…je ne sais quoi." Peter finished dryly.

"Thank you, Peter." Neal smiled brightly.

"Not a compliment."

"It really is." Neal corrected. "In fact it might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Is it wrong of me to hope that Aubrey catches you?" Peter asked sourly.

"Frost would fix it, but a thousand dollars says he won't have to."

"Forget it." Peter shook his head. "No way I'm taking that bet."

"Thank you." Neal repeated sounding more touched than before.

"Now what?"

"Thank you for showing more faith in me than Aubrey."

"Aubrey is a good Agent." Peter said defensively.

"But I'm a better thief." Neal added with a wink.

"I didn't say that."

"It was strongly implied."