Thanks for reading my story…I own nothing but the mistakes for which I accept all responsibility. Awfully tired tonight... pardon any errors.
Chapter Seven
"I must say I am more pleased to meet you than I expected to be, Agent Peter Burke, FBI" Derek said humorously, sitting down heavily in the chair he had previously been sleeping in. "I have to admit I didn't see that coming." Movement from the man on the sofa interrupted further discussion. Burke placed his hand on Neal's forehead. "The stab wounds looks bad," his voice was heavy with concern as he looked at Derek, "And he's burning up."
"I know," Derek agreed, "I spent half my time trying to warm him up and the other half trying to cool him down. But all in all, I think he's holding his own."
"Do you?" The agent didn't seem convinced. After spending the past twelve hours with the man, Derek had grown accustomed to his appearance. But he could understand Agent Burke's reaction at the sight of his friend. The man looked terrible. He was pale except for spots on his cheeks that were blushed with fever, and his forehead was discolored by the bruise which had deepened in color as the hours had passed. Add to that the sight of his mid-section, and he didn't make a promising picture of health.
The picture wasn't improved as the man began again to move restlessly on the sofa. His eyes were not open but they could see movement beneath his closed lids. Hands plucking at the sheet that covered him, his head begin to turn from side to side. "Peter will come," he began to mutter, his face showing the familiar pain and distress Derek had seen all night "he's coming…he will find me…."
"I'm here, Neal," his friend insisted, squeezing his hand as his concern grew. He stroked the man's damp head gently, trying to calm his erratic movements. "It's me, Peter, I did find you." His voice was almost as distressed as his friend's.
The blue eyes opened suddenly; the voice was sharp. "I didn't run, tell them I didn't run." He looked desperately around the room. When he saw the dreaded Marshals were present, he grew even more agitated. "I didn't run," he repeated, voice rising "Somebody took me."
"Neal," Agent Burke said firmly, "Neal." When the eyes found his face again he continued. "They know that. They know you didn't run. Everything's gonna to be okay. Just relax." At his friend's reassurance, the man's breathing began to slow, his eyelids grew heavy and closed. But mere seconds later, they opened again.
"Peter?" the man's brow was furrowed in confusion "Is that you?" Burke looked at Derek in alarm at the repeated question, but Derek merely nodded, indicating that this wasn't something new. The man was delirious and had been for several hours.
"Yes," the agent answered. "It's me. You are going to be okay, Neal, you hear me?"
The man sighed in relief, "You're really here."
"Yeah, I'm really here."
"Good," The eyes closed again and this time they stayed that way. Burke breathed a sigh of relief himself.
"He's done that all night," Derek said. The agent looked at him and he explained, "He would wake up, scared or hurting, asking for you." He smiled. "I started telling him you were on your way just to calm him down, even though I thought you were dangerous criminal."
"Oh, yeah," Agent Burke seemed to remember, "he told you I was his partner. I am you know, his partner." He nodded to the tracking device. "He's serving out his sentence as my CI and we work together in the White Collar Division."
"White Collar," he looked at Neal, "Figures. He said the people who took him needed documents, and he didn't seem like the violent type to me. But I must say when I saw the tracking device and heard he was waiting on his partner to find him, I didn't expect it to be an FBI agent. And he said friend, too, and I can see that is also true." It wasn't a question but the tone implied that further explanation wouldn't be unappreciated.
"He's in my custody. Its my job to keep him in line and to protect him," the agent explained, but the way he looked at the injured man, still grasping his limp hand in his own, indicated it was more than that. His next words confirmed it "but I guess its gotten to be more than that. He is a friend, and a partner; truth is he's like a son to me." He seemed almost embarrassed by his confession. "It's…complicated," He finished.
"It didn't seem to be to him," Derek said "all night, even when he wasn't sure who he was, Nick or Neal," Burke smiled at that, "he was sure that you were coming for him. Even delirium didn't shake his faith that you would find him and make everything okay when you did. He has complete confidence in you." He paused as the man seemed to be thinking that over, "So, I take it he is Neal; is he Nick, too?" Derek couldn't help but ask after the night of ambiguity.
"I guess it depends," the agent answered, "But his name is Neal. Neal Caffrey."
Derek shook his head, smiling slightly to himself, "Well, I guess he was telling me the truth. He said the same thing when I asked him: it depends."
"When you asked him what?"
"I asked him his name and sometimes he was Nick and sometimes he was Neal. When I asked which one he was, he said 'It depends.' I thought he was delirious, or maybe insane, but I take it he just has," he paused, and smiled tiredly at Agent Burke, "a complicated life."
The agent sighed heavily, "You have no idea. Nothing, absolutely nothing, about Neal Caffrey is ever simple."