Sorry for the wait, life got in the way.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

When Peter regained consciousness, he could hear the steady beep of machinery and the whispering of two other people, conversing in low whispers not too far away.

His head was killing him. This was worse than a really bad hangover, and he was pretty hard-headed when it came to his alcohol, so he had had blessed few of those. He felt like he got hit by a bus.

"Actually, it was a van." A voice chimed in from the doorway. Peter groaned and opened his eyes, wincing as the harsh florescent lights blinded him and set his temples pounding. He shut his eyes tightly to block it out and when he managed to open his eyes again, Neal was standing at the foot of his bed, still dressed like a cartoon with that ridiculous hat. The ex-con smiled at him.

"Hey, partner." Peter groaned and pressed a hand to his head to try and stop the pounding in his temples.

"What happened?"

"You got hit by a van."

Peter somehow managed to give the con man an annoyed look, squinting up through the harsh brightness of the hospital lights.

"What happened to Daring?" he repeated.

Neal made an "oh" face and amended, "He got away."

Peter fell back against the pillows and shut his eyes. "Great."

Neal shrugged but he didn't look too unhappy, Peter realized, when he opened his eyes again. In fact, the kid seemed kind of subdued. "It could have been worse," Neal said quietly, staring solemnly at Peter. "You could have been killed."

Agent Burke shot him an accusatory glare. "If I recall, you were more worried about what would happen to you," he said drily.

The ex-con held his gaze. "I stayed, didn't I?" he challenged.

Peter's glare softened. "Yeah," he admitted, but then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What was in it for you?"

Neal's blue eyes grew hard and his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth. "Is it so had to believe I stayed because I cared?" He glared at his partner for a few moments before throwing up his hands and stalking towards the window, where he glared out at the scenery with his back to Peter.

"About not going back to prison, maybe," Peter quipped before mentally berating himself. Neal's shoulders slumped and Peter couldn't help but feel guilty for baiting the kid. After a few tense moments of silence he sighed heavily and nodded once, grimacing at the sudden swimming sensation. "Okay," he relented. "I'm sorry, that was –"

"—heartless?" Peter gaped at him but the younger man had turned around to face him and there was a familiar grin on his face. He had to fight back the urge to roll his eyes, but he couldn't fight back a smile.

"Yeah," he admitted. The two of them fell into silence and Neal took the visitor's chair by the window, folding himself gracefully into the uncomfortable chair with a ridiculous amount of ease.

Eventually Neal looked up and said, "The police still need a statement of what happened."

And there go your brownie points, Peter thought, saying aloud, "You didn't give them one?" his tone was one he found himself using more and more often with Caffrey. Incredulousness tinged with annoyance.

"I went with you." Neal said, eyes wide with innocence.

"Neal, it would have taken five seconds!" Peter snapped, feeling a headache coming to life inside his temples. "You just had to make this more complicated, didn't you?"

But Neal ignored him. "The ambulance was leaving and besides, I'm not exactly on the top of the NYPD's Good Samaritan list."

Agent Burke bit back the retort on his tongue when he realized the logic in that. "Good point," he relented grudgingly. "So, how long was I out?"

"Oh, a few weeks," Neal's blue eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Neal…"

"Relax, Peter. It's only been a few hours." He sighed and muttered, "killjoy."

Peter visibly relaxed. He looked around his room then and noticed Elizabeth's purse and coat on the visitor's chair by the bed. Neal followed his gaze.

"I called her once I got here and she rushed right over. She just stepped out for a cup of coffee," he said before Peter could ask.

Peter accepted this news with a soft, affectionate smile for his wife. He really was a lucky man. He looked up at Neal, unconsciously reaching for the back of his head.

"So what's the verdict?"

"My guess is they'll keep you here for the next few days, at least. The doctors Elizabeth talked to said as much. They need to rule out concussion and allow you to heal. You had to get staples, you know. You cracked your head pretty bad." Neal looked down at his feet. "The doctor's say you were lucky."

"This is lucky?" Peter exclaimed, waving a hand to indicate the hospital bed and all the machinery. "I got hit by a van, you skip out on the police statement and I'm confined here while our man drives hundreds of miles away! He's bound to be out of the country by now…"

"Remind me never to let you get hit by a van again," Neal interrupted, a mischievous light in his blue eyes. "You complain too much."

Peter rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Anyway," he sighed. "We've lost him."

Neal looked alarmed. "The last time you said that you almost ended up road kill." He tried to smile but it didn't reach his eyes. Peter grumbled something like, "oh, that's real nice," but he was distracted by Neal, who was glancing around the room with wide eyes. His gaze finally rested on the window and he was looking at it as though afraid the teal van would come crashing through it, despite the fact that they were on the third floor.

Neal shook off the daze and turned to Peter with a frown. He could tell the agent's mind was still on Daring.

"Forget about Daring, Peter. Just rest. He's gone, there's nothing you can do."

Peter gave his partner a stern glance. "Don't tell me how to do my job, Caffrey."

Neal shook his head. "I'm telling you not how to not do your job. Just let it go," he repeated in a quiet voice. Peter seethed in angry silence, but Neal wasn't worried; the anger wasn't for him. He thought it over and perked up, blue eyes shining with a tell-tale light. "Unless," he offered "they let me work the case without you."

But Peter was already shaking his head.

"No dice, Deano. Hughes won't let that fly and you know it." Peter looked as though he was hoping he was wrong, but there was resignation in his voice. Finally, he shook his head, ending the conversation.

Neal let the matter rest, for now. He shrugged the words off genially and tried to avoid thinking about the Bureau's irritating lack of trust. "So," he said instead, hands in his pocket. "What do I do now?"

It was a loaded question and something that needed to be confronted. Because Peter was right, without him there Hughes wouldn't let Neal fly solo and he couldn't ask another agent to bear the burden. Peter sighed again and ran a hand through his hair, wincing when his fingers brushed the bandage on his head. He scowled.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I need to call Hughes." His head snapped up suddenly, eyes finding Neal standing just as before. He gave the ex-con a stern look. "Don't think you get out of work. You're still going to the Bureau tomorrow. I'll assign Jones to keep an eye on you."

Neal gave his partner a pained look. "Paperwork?"

"Sorry kiddo. I know paperwork's not your game, but too bad."

"Time to 'cowboy up'?" Neal guessed.

Peter nodded. Neal groaned. "Great."

The FBI agent shot him a look. "Hey, at least you're not the one in the hospital bed."

"I think I'd rather be."

"Or you could go back to prison," Peter offered, mouth twitching into a grin.

Neal turned on his heel in exasperation, facing the door. "You see what he does to me?" he exclaimed, to Elizabeth, Peter realized, who was standing at the door with a paper cup of coffee in her hand and a grin on her face. Neal sounded very much like a tattling two year old. There was a definite sulking slump to his shoulders. Peter realized that he was working his puppy-dog charm on his wife, who took it in with sympathy only Elizabeth can muster.

"Aw, sweetie, he doesn't mean it."

Peter grumbled. Sure, he was the one in the hospital bed and his wife was comforting his partner – his ex-con partner for that matter!

"Next you'll have my wife skipping out on police statements," the agent groused, but there was humor in his voice.

"That's the plan," Elizabeth chirped, laughing at her husband's incredulous look. She moved over to the bed and placed a hand gently on top of his. "Relax, honey. The criminal world hasn't gotten to me yet." She kissed the top of his bandaged head and he gave her a breathless smile, before shaking his head with a small laugh.

Neal grinned hopefully at them. "Does this mean I don't have to give that police statement?"

Peter shot him a stern, tell-tale glance and he sighed in resignation. Elizabeth looked over at him.

"Detective Morrison?"

Neal stared at her in surprise. "How'd you know?"

She winked at him and brought the cup of coffee to her lips. "I met him in the coffee shop downstairs," she nodded towards the door and Neal turned around just as the detective himself stepped into the room. He rapped on the door with his knuckles as he passed to let them know he was there, but the motion was unnecessary because all three of them were already looking in his direction.

"I told him you were up here," Elizabeth murmured, a little unsurely. Her blue eyes seemed to ask, is that alright?

Neal beamed at her in thanks.

Detective Morrison cleared his throat and glanced at Peter and Elizabeth in apology. "I apologize for the intrusion," he stated and then turned to Neal, who greeted him with a polite wave. "I thought since I was here, I'd save you the trouble of coming down to the station, Mr….?"

"Caffrey," Neal said, grinning at the Detective's startled expression.

"Don't worry, Detective, he works for the law now," Peter cut in. Morrison glanced from Peter to Neal and finally covered his shock with a brisk, professional nod.

"I can understand your unease then," he offered. "But I'm sure you wouldn't mind…?" he trailed off and motioned towards the door, his eyes still on Neal.

Neal looked to Peter and Elizabeth as though asking their permission and Peter nodded. Neal fell in step behind the detective. Their conversation became muffled as they headed out the door. Peter sighed as the door shut behind them, leaning his back onto his wife's shoulder, his eyes sliding shut.

Elizabeth could tell something was troubling him, and by now she had learned that most of those things usually involved Neal.

"He had the chance to run and he didn't take it," she assured him gently.

"Running would have made him look guilty," Peter argued. "Neal knows that."

"Of course he does, but he stayed with you and skipped on the statement to ride with you here." She combed her fingers through his hair and went on before he could argue that point, too. "He doesn't have to be here right now, you know. But he came to visit you; that should count for something."

"Yeah, I guess it does." He relented, opening his eyes and straightening up as Neal came back into the room looking significantly relieved. He gave Elizabeth a grateful glance which she accepted with a warm smile.

"I'm glad that's over."

--

The three of them exchanged pleasant chatter for the rest of the afternoon, and sometime in the middle of it all Peter drifted back to sleep. Eventually Neal grew restless, though he tried hard to hide it, Elizabeth could see the way his blue eyes darted around the room and she figured he was eager to be outside. Finally Elizabeth had had enough and stood from the chair she had taken by the window once Peter fell asleep.

"Neal," her voice stopped his pacing and he looked up at her in surprise, stopping in place. "Go home," she said gently. "Get something to eat, you've been here since this morning."

Neal hesitated, his blue eyes indecisive. "Are you sure? I'm not really hungry and—" he trailed off at Elizabeth's knowing stare. "Alright," he relented and she grinned in triumph. "I'm starving, and no offense, but hospital food isn't really my thing." He glanced at the empty tray on the rolling table by Peter's bed in disgust.

Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his face and quickly covered her mouth. "Go on," she urged. "he's not going anywhere." Neal nodded at her and turned towards the door but before he hesitated on the threshold when Elizabeth's voice halted him.

"Neal."

He looked back at her.

"Don't forget, Peter wants you to show up at the Bureau tomorrow." There was a protective edge to her tone and her blue eyes caught and held his. "Don't skip out on him, Neal."

Neal nodded solemnly at her and gave his sleeping partner one final glance. "I won't, Elizabeth. I promise."

A/N: Sorry for the wait, this chapter wasn't pre-written and I had a hard time finding time and motivation for it with all the school stuff going on. So here it is, a little late. Not very exciting, I'm afraid. I've started the fifth chapter already, so we'll see how long it takes for that one. I'll have some free time in the coming weeks, so hopefully it won't be so long of wait. Reviews are loved, as always.


And White Collar comes back a week from today! Who else is super-excited? I heard the premier is an hour and a half long, and there are still fourteen episodes to go. I can't wait.

Agni