"Peter, hey, can you hear me?"
Neal tapped Peter's cheek again as he bit down on the frustration rising within him. He'd been so careless and now his friend was hurt because of him.
Now Keller knew about Peter.
He didn't want to think what that might mean for him. Keller was adamant about this challenge he'd laid, and Neal had no idea why Keller was so determined they do it. It wasn't like it was an impossible challenge and so the stakes were higher; Neal could easily pick a piece he knew he could get to before his opponent. He prayed that Keller wouldn't set his sights on Peter – or Elizabeth, for that matter – now that he'd said no.
He decided to think about that later, Peter was his top priority right now. He shook the agent's shoulders, his gaze drawn to the stark blood trickling down his pale face.
"Peter? Come on, wake up."
He was halfway to his phone to dial an ambulance when Peter groaned, his head rolling towards Neal as a frown creased his forehead.
"Hey, Peter? Open your eyes, come on."
Peter responded, but it was obvious he did not want to do it. His eyelids drifted open and he gazed blearily at Neal, squinting at him through the pain.
"Nick?" he croaked. He made to touch his head but Neal intercepted him and caught his hand, laying it back on the ground.
"Do you know what day it is?" he demanded, and Peter thought for a moment.
"Saturday?" he asked, and Neal nodded. "Wha' happened?" he added. Neal frowned at both the slur in his voice and his question.
"You don't remember?" A small part of him was pleased at that – it meant he wasn't going to be asking questions about Keller – but the rest of him was brimming with worry.
"No." Peter replied, wincing as he leant back on his elbows. Neal laid a hand on his shoulder, having expected him to try to get to his feet. The agent didn't, though, but with the help of Neal he slowly sat up. His eyes were screwed shut and his head was still bleeding, and Neal found he couldn't take his eyes off it. Peter was in pain because of him, this could have been avoided if he'd just ignored that text.
He might have gone after Elizabeth regardless, he argued internally, and that thought flooded him with dread. This wasn't his fault, it was Keller's. God, he had to get out of New York as soon as he could, if not to get away from Peter's inevitable realisation about who he really was, but also to keep them out of Keller's sights.
"What – no, wait, don't do that." He was drawn from his thoughts as Peter started using the wall to drag himself up.
"Hey, slow down a minute." Neal said, clambering to his feet and gripping Peter's arm. The agent straightened up and the guilt Neal was feeling increased tenfold when Peter bowed his head and took deep breaths, swaying slightly.
"You alright?" he asked. "You're not gonna throw up, are you?"
Peter held up a finger and Neal nodded slightly, his grip loosening on his friend's arm but not disappearing completely.
"M'okay." Peter muttered. "Just need to sleep it off."
"Oh, no. We are going to hospital." Neal argued, tugging him towards the street.
"No, I'm fine." Peter responded, resisting the efforts to get him to walk.
"You were unconscious." Neal snapped, starting to become irritated with Peter's stupidity, along with everything else that had happened this evening. "And I'm not getting visits from the FBI because I let one of their agents die, so come on."
Peter fell into silence and let Neal guide him to the edge of the sidewalk. He stood slumped slightly as Neal paced up and down, his fingers tapping his leg while they waited for a cab.
"El." Peter murmured.
"I'll let her know." Neal said tersely, digging in his pocket and pulling out his phone. He fired a text to Elizabeth, telling her that Peter wasn't going to be able to see her tonight because he'd been hurt. He added that he'd be fine once they'd gone to hospital, and he'd get Peter to ring her tomorrow. He wondered what had made him say yes when Elizabeth had insisted on getting his phone number. Yet another thing to be rid of once he left.
Peter seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "You have El's number?" he asked, pointing at the phone with a frown.
Neal raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're jealous." he said with an eye roll.
"M'not." Peter said, looking down at his shoes.
"You want to read the texts, Peter? Here." He thrust the phone into Peter's chest and the agent clutched it, watching Neal step forward into the road to attract a nearby cab. The car pulled up and Neal let Peter in first, a hand on his back as he sat down with a groan. Once Neal was settled, they car pulled away in the direction of the hospital.
He felt his phone drop in his lap and Neal pocketed it whilst staring out the window, avoiding looking at Peter.
Twenty minutes later they were seated in a waiting room, a clock ticking loudly on the wall they were sat in front of while they waited to be seen to. Holding a piece of gauze to his head, Peter squirmed in his chair, and though Neal was feeling equally uncomfortable, he found his frustration rising the more Peter's chair squeaked.
"Could you stop that? Please?" he asked after five more minutes of squeaking. Peter looked across at him with a frown, his expression pitiful with the bloodstained gauze he was holding.
"Have I done something?"
Neal ran a hand through his hair. "No." he sighed. He couldn't stop thinking about Keller and he kept replaying the moment Peter had been hit over and over again in his mind, wishing he'd been more observant. He should have known Keller had his own weapon and wouldn't be afraid to get his hands dirty.
"I didn't read the texts, if that's what–"
"It's not you, Peter, alright?" Neal interrupted. "I mean, yes, you were being stupid about Elizabeth and not wanting to come here and that pissed me off, but I'm not angry anymore."
"Okay." Peter responded quietly. At that moment, a doctor stepped out and called Peter's name. The agent looked across at Neal and he straightened under the gaze.
"You want me to come with you?" he asked, preparing to stand.
"No, it's fine. I'm good." Peter said. Neal nodded and watched as he followed the doctor into an examination room.
He could already sense Peter drawing away from him, and though there was nothing he wanted more than to wrap Peter in blankets and swear vengeance on Keller, he had to put some distance between them. The more he interacted with him, the more likely he was to be found out and the more danger he was putting him in now that Keller was in town.
His phone buzzed with a text and he opened it to find a suggestion from Elizabeth that she come and pick Peter up so she could keep an eye on him overnight. As much as he wanted to tell her no, he'd look after the agent, he found himself writing yes whilst ignoring the disappointed feeling settling in his stomach. Peter would much prefer to be cared for by her, anyway.
When she came back asking if they were going to be at his apartment, Neal cursed himself for telling her where he lived when he'd once left his hat at the gallery and she'd offered to return it. Honestly, what was wrong with him? Now if – when – Peter found out the truth about him he'd only have to ask Elizabeth and he'd have his address. With another sigh, he replied by saying they'd wait at the hospital for her.
The doctor leant in the doorway of her examination room and gestured Neal over. He rose and covered the short distance with a wary frown, wondering what he was needed for.
When he entered he saw Peter sitting on an examination table, his jacket off and tie loosened. He looked exhausted and was sporting a bandage around his head. His hair was mussed and his eyes were drooping and Neal desperately wanted to hug him or something. He hurriedly pushed that thought aside and moved to stand next to Peter, looking at the doctor for a reason why he was there.
"I just wanted to ask some questions regarding the circumstances of his injury." she said, scribbling something down on a clipboard. "You are?"
"Nick Halden." he responded, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Peter nod. He bit back a smile.
"Could you tell me what happened? Peter doesn't remember anything at the moment, and while that's perfectly normal, I just want to be sure the head wound is the only thing to worry about."
"We were attacked in an alley." Neal said. It wasn't exactly a lie. "Two men were there. One of them knocked Peter out. It was just his head that was hit."
"Alright, thank you." She jotted something down. "He's had stiches so he'll need to be back in a few days for a check-up and to get them out, and I'm afraid you'll need to set an alarm tonight so you can check on him every few hours."
"Oh, we're not…" He trailed off when he felt Peter's forehead butt his shoulder. Not helping, Peter.
The doctor was watching them with a disinterested look. "As long as there's someone to keep an eye on him, I'm not fussed." She gestured to Peter. "I've given him some antibiotics so he may be a bit out of it for a while."
"Alright." Neal said. Well, that's not my problem anymore.
"And I've got a prescription for him to take every so often, too." She handed him a box. "The instructions are on the back."
"Thank you, Doctor." he said, flashing a smile at her. "Come on, Peter."
Peter slid off the table and Neal grabbed his jacket and took his arm, leading him out. They exited the hospital and Neal directed him to a nearby bench. He wrestled Peter's jacket back onto him, and when the agent still shivered in the night air, Neal wrapped his coat around him with an eye roll.
Peter stared down at the coat and stroked it slightly with one hand. He frowned across at Neal, who had sat back with his arms crossed.
"Do you want my coat?" Peter asked.
"You're not wearing a coat, Peter." he replied. "And if I wanted my own coat I wouldn't have given it to you in the first place."
"Oh."
Neal didn't react when Peter leant against him with a groan. "What are you doing?" he asked after thirty seconds.
"M'tired." he mumbled. "Thank you for staying with me." He aimlessly patted Neal's leg.
Neal's lips twitched and he placed a hand on top of Peter's, stopping the patting. "You're welcome." he said, squeezing his hand. He smiled to himself when Peter squeezed back.
"Hey, does your head still hurt?" he asked quietly.
"Only a little. M'just tired now."
"Yeah, you said." Neal responded. "Well, don't fall asleep on me, alright?"
That's exactly what he did.
Neal watched him as he dozed on his shoulder, shaking his head with a faint smile. His frustration and irritation had dissipated, and the fear he'd felt earlier tonight when Peter had been knocked unconscious was slowly settling down. He wasn't sure why he'd been so scared; he'd only known Peter a number of days, and he was 'the enemy', as Mozzie liked to say. But the agent kept breaking through his barriers and every time those warm eyes settled on him he wanted to give up on his plan to escape as soon as possible and stay with Peter.
Not only was he worried what those sort of thoughts could mean for him, he also knew he couldn't do that to Peter. No matter how much he might like him – or whatever it was he was feeling – Peter had his heart set on Elizabeth. And Elizabeth was wonderful, Neal didn't want her to get hurt because of his selfish feelings. But if Elizabeth had been whiny or arrogant or something, it would be so much harder to leave Peter behind when he fled New York. At least he knew the two had each other and wouldn't miss him (especially if they found out he'd been lying), and when he found Kate he would be happy too.
Elizabeth arrived five minutes later, and Neal removed Peter's hand from his leg. She approached the two of them with a grin on her face.
"Not a word." Neal warned.
"I don't want to wake him up, he looks so peaceful." she said, sitting on Peter's other side and stroking his arm.
"Well, if you carry him, I'll hold the car door open."
Elizabeth laughed, her gentle gaze still on Peter. Neal's smile faded.
"Hey, Peter, your ride's here." he said, tapping the agent's leg. Peter grunted and stirred, opening his eyes and glancing at Elizabeth.
"El," he croaked. "What're you doing here?"
"Fancy a sleepover?" she asked with a smile, and Peter responded with a bright one of his own.
"Sure." he said, and Elizabeth helped him to his feet. She led him to her car with a hand on his back, and Neal watched as Peter snorted at something she said. They looked only at each other, and Neal mildly wondered how they didn't trip on the curb.
He looked down at his lap, tuning out the tender voices nearby. This was pathetic. He needed to think of Kate and–
A soft hand cupped his cheek and Neal flickered his gaze upwards, finding himself gazing into Elizabeth's bright blue eyes whilst she crouched in front of him. She wasn't unlike Kate in her appearance, and Neal could understand why Peter liked looking into her eyes so much.
She perched on the bench next to him and leant forwards, her arms wrapping around his neck. He sat, stunned, for a few moments, before mechanically linking his arms around her back. She drew back and cupped his face, her perfume invading his senses.
"Peter mentioned what happened. Are you alright?" she asked. "Were you hurt, too?"
"I – no." he stuttered, surprised by her question. "I'm fine."
She continued watching him with that piercing gaze, and Neal submitted, flicking his eyes downwards.
"Well, then, thank you for stepping in and helping." she said with a gentle smile, and Neal felt himself returning it.
"No problem." he said softly. "His prescription's in the coat he's wearing. Let me know how he is tomorrow?"
"Of course." she responded, pecking him on the cheek. Then, she headed over to the car and got in. Neal could see Peter leaning against the window, asleep by the looks of it, and he absently watched them drive off.
God, he was in too deep.