A/N: Thank you all those who read and reviewed my story. I sound like a broken record, but reviews really inspire me. And I really appreciate everyone who gives me advice and constructive criticism. That's how I found my beta! A huge thanks to Fierce Queen for being absolutely fantastic at picking out the inconsistencies and helping make this chapter better

After shooing them out of the blue-eyed man's room three days ago, the small group had been politely but firmly told to go home and wait. And if they had faith, to pray for the sick man. They were told that they could visit Neal for a short period of time the next day during visiting hours but for now, they had to leave. When they had insisted that they were his friends and the closest thing to a family he had, an attendant had disdainfully told them that he was in critical condition and that they weren't his family.

"Listen ma'am, that man is a convicted felon and he is a flight risk." Diana tried to get the attendant to allow at least one of them to stay with the con-man.

"Well, Agent..?" the attendant turned a sharp eye towards the dark-skinned woman.

"Agent Diana Berrigan."

"Agent Berrigan" the attendant started, showing her disapproval towards the woman. "Mr. Caffrey flat-lined a few hours ago. He cannot breathe on his own. Even if he was awake, he would be hallucinating because of his high fever. So I really doubt that he is a flight risk right now."

Diana and the rest of the group stared dumbstruck at the extremely pissed off woman.

"This hospital does make exceptions for family." She once again started, causing a relieved smile to go around the small group of people forming a rather timid semi-circle around her.

"You all however are NOT his family. I somehow doubt you're even his friends! This man is sick- very, very sick. And it doesn't take a short time for someone's health to get so devastatingly bad. Not like this anyway. This man hadn't eaten or had any water in the past two days, judging by the malnourishment his body is showing. I'd say he hasn't been eating right for a while now. Where exactly were you- his 'friends'- when Mr. Caffrey was going through this? If you hadn't found him when you did Agent Berrigan, I can guarantee you would have come across a corpse." the short, stout woman reprimanded. Giving them a final glare, she turned on her heels and marched right past them to some other part of the hospital.

After being told off by a woman who was nearly half his height, Peter Burke felt rather embarrassed. Not because of the height difference, or the fact she was a woman. No, Peter was too strong a person to have such petty thoughts. His embarrassment was borne of the fact that the attendant had indeed been right. Neal hadn't been well for some time and he had brushed it off. Peter had seen the bags under his eyes, the increasing pallor, the angles of his face becoming increasingly sharper with each passing day, and Peter watched with a feeling of satisfaction as the man who he had a few days ago considered a younger brother seemed to be suffering the consequences of his own guilt.

El rested a reassuring hand on his arm and gently led Peter away, knowing that her husband was busy blaming himself for something that was actually, for once, partly his own fault. Not that she was not to be blamed at all. She should have at least called Neal and talked to him—should have pressured Peter a bit more to give Neal a chance to explain. But she hadn't. She shook her head, trying to clear it. The past couldn't be changed. Now all they could do was hope that Neal woke up so they could apologize for being such dreadful friends she thought to herself as she led her shell-shocked husband out of the ICU, towards the exit.

Diana was having a hard time not bursting into tears, but she was a tough agent. Not a little girl. And trained FBI agents did NOT cry! She told herself in vain as a lone tear made its way out of her eye, down her face. Well, crap. She was probably a little girl then she concluded quickly brushing away the traitorous drop of water from her face, not knowing that she wasn't alone till as comforting arm was placed on her shoulder.

She looked up to see an equally guilty looking Jones staring down at her.

"We screwed up, didn't we?" he said, guilt and worry making his voice crack.

Wcwcwcwcwc

It had been three days since Neal had flat-lined. 72 hours of being absolutely terrified for her husband's partner. Because that is what Neal was to Peter, El thought. At first, her husband— and if she was being honest, she herself— had believed that the enigmatic man was just conning them to get to Kate. And she wasn't sure to this day that that initial notion was wrong. El thought that Neal had in all likelihood struck a deal with Peter to find Kate and had all intentions of bolting as soon as that mission was accomplished. But she also believed that something had changed along the way. Neal had changed. Peter had changed. Heck, she felt certain that she along with everyone in the white collar division had changed, allowing Neal to fit in so perfectly in their lives. And because of that acceptance, Neal had decided that running could be put on hold at that moment. Because who were they kidding? Neal Caffrey was an absolute genius. He had escaped super-max, and she was pretty certain that many of his past 'alleged' adventures had left him in plenty of tough spots and he had been able to get away then too. What was a mere tracking anklet to him? He could have easily disappeared whenever he wanted to. But he didn't and to her, that's the thing that counted the most.

"Come on, Neal. You got out of tighter spots than this. You can get out of this one." El whispered to the pale form of the con-man as she clutched his slender hand in her own, trying to comfort the unconscious man in the few minutes she had been given to visit him.

Almost as if they had synchronized it, the alarms on the monitors went wild. Neal was waking up.

A/N: So how did you like this chapter? Also, what do you think is going to happen now? Any thoughts? Please review!