Disclaimer: White Collar and the characters borrowed for this story are the creative property of Jeff Eastin. This story was written and shared solely for the enjoyment of other White Collar fans. No copyright infringement is intended.

Forged Friendships

Chapter – 8 Frayed Emotions

Vanessa stretched up to hang the bag of antibiotic on the IV pole, extending the clear tubing and running a stream of the liquid into the garbage can before connecting it. It was turning into a long night with two new admissions, one a young man with a near fatal gunshot wound to the head. Closing her eyes she shuddered inside thinking of the permanent consequences his split-second ordeal would hold for those who loved him. Experience told her that the young man would never see the terror in his Mother's eyes … but she had and with an empathetic smile, reassured the family that everything medically possible was being done for their son. She clamped off the IV tube and clipped it up in a loop.

Scanning Neal's vital signs, she jotted a few numbers onto the notepad she had taken from her pocket, wondering how many times the man in front of her had looked down the barrel of a gun. The ICU nurse regularly dealt with the tentative nature of life however; tonight her emotions were getting the better of her. She reached over and brushed Neal's bangs back from his forehead. At least this man risked his life for nobler causes and not over a gang turf war or drug deal gone wrong. She watched as Neal slept, his bruised and swollen face relaxed, his lips slightly parted with soft snoring escaping as he breathed in a shallow but regular pattern.

Neal's left arm rested with his palm facing upward, extending out from under the cover of the sheet. Access to the IV port was facing down and Vanessa knew that she would most likely disturb him when she moved his arm. Reaching over the railing, she slowly lifted his forearm, laying it back against his chest, as she prepared to flush the IV port with saline. The cool liquid she pushed through his vein burned making Neal's arm twitch and he reached up, rubbing at his eyes.

"Wha t-time is it?"

Vanessa turned as she reset the infusion pump. "It's late Mr. Caffrey, around 2:40 am. I'm sorry to wake you again. How are you feeling?"

He squinted up at the smiling nurse knowing that she wouldn't appreciate hearing how he really felt. "Why c-can nye jus sleep? Those IV bags are lil. Can't you jus mix em together an ge it over withhh? I wone tell honest."

Sensing his frustration with the frequent interruptions to his sleep, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Caffrey, you don't know how much I wish I could do that for you but these medications aren't compatible to run together. They have to be given at two hour intervals."

He flopped his arm down, wincing as the IV port landed against the firm mattress. "Wwha ever." He was rapidly growing tired of the kind placating explanations. Each time he was awakened, the extra doses of morphine were gone from his system and every inch of his body throbbed, just breathing seemed exhausting to him. He didn't want to admit it but he felt scared and vulnerable, his normally well controlled resilient exterior betraying him, he wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep and escape from his misery. In frustration, he jerked his body struggling to change his position. "Ahh," he cursed … "My baack hurtz."

Vanessa eyes' met with Neal's restless gaze. He was so thin; it was completely understandable on top of all his other injuries why his back was bothering him. "Would you like me to get Kathy to help shift you off your back for awhile?"

He turned his face away from his nurse; it was awkward for him to ask for help and even more difficult to admit that he had no choice but to rely on others. "S-sup-pose so."

Vanessa handed Neal the Morphine control button as she called for Kathy to come to room 811.

Kathy entered the room and approached Neal's bed. He groaned as he took in the bright pink colored scrub top covered with smiley faces, praying she was only on loan from the pediatrics unit for tonight. She looked like a kid but her badge was boldly printed with the letters "RN" and adored with a butterfly sticker beside her photo.

"Vanessa, what do you need?"

"Just a little help shifting Mr. Caffrey onto his left side. He has a little trouble with vertigo so we need to take it slow and watch his right shoulder area too. He has a broken collar bone and a chest tube in."

Kathy gave Neal a perky smile, her braided hair falling forward as she bent toward him, sliding her hands under his back. "You're probably getting tired of hearing this but try to relax and let us do the work." With a nurse on each side of the bed, they slowly turned him from his back onto his left side, wedging pillows behind him. "Thanks Kat." Vanessa stepped around the bed as the other nurse left. "Does that feel any better?" She handed him the small pillow to hold.

Neal tried to arch his back and stretch but the pain from his abdomen limited his movement. Clenching his jaw as he swallowed, "S-stil cannt get com-for-able."

"Would you like me to rub your back?" She smiled, half expecting a mildly flirtatious response.

Her heart sank as Neal looked up, his blues eyes wide with a bleakly vacant expression, "Could you?"

Vanessa lowered the side rail and untied the back of Neal's gown. Bending down, she pulled a small bottle of lotion from the nightstand drawer and dispensed some into her hand, allowing it to warm. "Your body has been through a lot in the past few days. It must seem like an eternity, the days and nights start to be all mixed up …. Just try to relax." Her tone with him was soft and compassionate.

She slipped her hand in between the pillows and his back, lightly massaging his tight muscles. Neal closed his eyes and exhaled a relieved sigh as her gentle hands rubbed all the tender pressure points. "If I do anything that hurts, just tell me and I'll stop."

"Feels n-nice, thank yu." She continued to rub gently over his back as her patient's facial expression softened and he drifted back to sleep. Vanessa tied the back of the gown and pulled the covers over her sleeping patient. "See you in a couple hours, Mr. Caffrey. Sleep well," she whispered.

The snow had started to fall in large fluffy clumps as Neal and Violet stepped under the sheltered entrance to The Mansfield. Their cheeks and noses had a rosy glow from the cold and the melting snowflakes clung to their hair and coats. Neal ran his fingers back through his hair and with a gloved hand brushed the remaining snow from his shoulders. Bending over he carefully lifted his fedora from his companion's head, whisking away the fluffy wet snow before it had a chance to saturate the wool felt. Violet suppressed a laugh as Neal babied the dark gray hat, smoothing his fingers along the rolled brim.

"Just how honored should I feel having worn your hat out in bad weather?"

Neal smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Oh, don't worry I think you will find my payment plans fairly reasonable. For three city blocks in inclement weather, potentially sticky hairspray residue… he raised his eye brows as if concentrating on the math … carry the two…" Violet rolled her eyes and gave him a nudge toward the door that was being held open by an overly patient door attendant.

Violet was relieved to have Neal back teasing and taunting her like a younger brother. She had missed her friend, his devilish grin, the gleam in his blue eyes, his clever wit and intellect but most off all his tender caring heart. She worried that suffering the indignity of a prison sentence with violent criminals and the tragic loss of Kate, would irrevocably harm his gentle soul leaving an empty shell behind. But the man standing beside her in the freezing cold, fretting about his poor hat and smiling with childlike exuberance was the man she remembered and adored.

Stepping forward the door attendant greeted them, "Good evening and welcome back to The Mansfield. I do hope you enjoyed a pleasant evening out." Neal nodded, thanking the door attendant and handing him a tip, as he ushered Violet through the elegant art deco trimmed doors.

Stepping into the warm lobby, Violet loosened her scarf that Neal had tightly tucked in around her neck and unbuttoned her coat. Shaking some snow from her scarf, she stared down at the beautiful enameled pin that Neal had placed on her collar earlier in the evening, hoping that the concierge was able to pick up her gift in time and have Neal's favorite dessert delivered. It was her last little surprise for his birthday and the perfect ending for the evening.

On the way to the private elevator, they passed by the bar and paused to listen to the music drifting out into the lobby. Neal stepped inside the doorway and decided that it was too crowded and noisy for them to enjoy the music and have a conversation.

"You know, I'd really just enjoy going up to your suite and relaxing."

She nodded in agreement as he placed his arm around her waist and they stepped away from the bar entrance. As they neared the elevator, a look of amusement crossed Neal's face, listening to Violet's flat shoes as they made a clacking sound across the polished terrazzo floor. From above her head, he whistled a tune from a classic Shirley Temple dance number.

"Okay Bojangles, you asked for it." She whistled a slightly off-key verse tapping her toe up and down as they waited for the elevator doors to open.

He grinned, giving her a playful swat as they entered the elevator. "Oh, give it up, I whistle way better than you."

She looked at him with a smug grin, "You started it." Beginning to purse her lips together, he reached over and placed a hushing finger to her mouth.

The private elevator opened into the suite's huge foyer area. Although The Mansfield was a 1920's era hotel, the guest rooms had be renovated and turned into upscale modern urban suites. Neal placed his fedora down on the low Anya Noir slip covered parson's bench and helped Violet off with her coat. Motioning toward the rod-iron embellished staircase, she disappeared into the suite as he removed his overcoat and jacket, hanging them in the foyer closet.

"I'll be back down in a few minutes." Her voice echoed from the vaulted ceiling in the main living area.

Sliding the pocket door closed, Neal stepped in front of a full-length Aquitaine style mirror propped against the foyer wall, using his fingers he attempted to smooth his hair back into place. The damp ends were now sticking up in unruly curls, which no amount of coaxing would tame, with a shrug he stepped away from the mirror and entered the living area of the bi-level suite.

Neal dropped down into the comfort of a walnut colored Parisian leather chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, popping open the lower two buttons of his fitted vest. Leaning back, he linked his fingers together behind his head, studying the chess set on the coffee table in front of him.

"How about a quick game of chess? Depending on the outcome, I might consider it fair payment for the use of my hat."

Violet responded from the loft above, "Neal, there isn't ever a quick game of chess with you and I am too tired to concentrate that much."

He leaned forward and grabbed the remote control for the fireplace. "Excuses, excuses, you're just a sore loser." Neal stared at chessboard as he pressed the on-button, setting the fireplace a glow and moving his white pawn to d4. Leaning back, he stared into the cool blue flame. There was something inherently wrong with a fireplace that had an on-button, much preferring the natural crackle of the fireplace at June's. However this would do.

Violet leaned over the loft railing, "I object. I didn't lose to you the last time we played."

Neal tipped his head back looking up at the raised panel ceiling, "Only because you refused to make the last move. The rental fee for the hat just went up. Sore loser."

Violet continued to object, "I was still thinking."

"About what? There was only one possible move left." Neal stood and stretched as he made his way over to the bar, pouring himself a glass of Remy Martin from the cut crystal decanter, he swirled the golden mahogany colored liquid in the glass before taking a sip.

Placing his glass beside the music rack on the baby grand piano, he pulled out the bench and lifted back the cover, lightly dragging his index finger along the keyboard, allowing his hand to come to rest in a playing position. His long fluid fingers moved along the keys as the piano responded with the first few bars from "Morning Prayer", a simple melodic tune he remembered from his Mother. This beautiful instrument was a far cry from the small spinet he remembered playing as a child. Neal pulled the collection of music stacked on the lid down into his lap, walking his fingers down through the pile … Chopin, Nocturne Op.9 No.1, Bach, Late Night Piano Music, An Evening Wasted with Tom Lehrer, The Ultimate Piano Fake Book, Bella's Lullaby from Twilight and Straight Ahead Jazz Fake Book.

He rubbed his hand back and forth over his forehead before neatly placing the stack back in place. Talk about eclectic taste. "Violet …. Hey, I thought you said you'd be down in a minute."

Neal walked over to the bottom step, "Vi? .. Violet … Violet … You okay? …. Violet," his voice increasing in pitch and volume.

A feeling of panic gripped his stomach as he grabbed the handrails propelling himself up the steps. She'd been drinking, she shouldn't be drinking … we walked in the cold, it was too cold, too far, too much …. Neal's thoughts traveling faster with each step as memories of the past and present rapidly collided, combining with his fears.

This was how it all started … The con was nearly complete; Violet's lab notebook and all her years of research were in his position; all he had left to do was disappear. It was a simple easy in and out, but then he found Violet unconscious, her life reliant on his decisions. He hesitated, the door was right there in front of him; he knew the staff would find her but he struggled to step out the door. Would they find her in time? He pulled his cell phone out and dialed 911. He had done his part; the door was right there, he could go and the con would be complete. However, he waited and he worried … yes, yes, he was family …. holding her hand … stroking her hair … praying … conning … lying … loving.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he gulped back a rush of emotions seeing that the bedroom was empty. The low bench at the end of the bed covered with an array of medical supplies. He reached down and picked up the IV bag, reading the label, Clindamycin. He breathed in deeply trying to calm his nerves. Mycin that sounded like an antibiotic, she must not have been sparing him the truth. He rushed to open the closed bathroom door, pulling back his hand as he touched the doorknob. "Violet, are you okay?"

He could hear the water turn off. "Neal, I'm fine." She pulled the door open finding him nearly on top of her, his mouth gaping open as he stared downward stammering. "Y-you'd been up here awhile … and I .. was starting to worry. Then I called for you and … you didn't answer."

His expression revealed more than just a little concern. She took his extended hand and folded her fingers around his, leading him back to the stairs. "Neal, I am fine. I just needed a little more time than I anticipated and I couldn't hear you with the door closed. I'm sorry that I worried you." She reached up and hugged him. "Once I start this drug infusion, I'll be right down."

Neal stepped around Violet and sat on the bench picking up a pair of gloves. "Let me help you."

Violet looked over at Neal seeing his determination to stay. "Neal, this isn't very pretty and you usually avoid this kind of thing. It really will only take me a few more minutes."

Neal's pensive gaze kept a constant watch as he patted the seat next to him. Violet walked over and lightly touched his cheek as she sat down offering him her arm. His hands trembled slightly as he unfastened the small round button and loop closure, folding the full sleeve back. The IV line was covered with some soft beige knit sleeving. He gently pulled the sleeve down exposing the IV line that protruded from her skin, a loop of tubing taped down tightly with a transparent sheet. She could sense his breathing pattern change as he observed the exposed IV site. "Vi, does this hurt?"

She turned and looked at his watery blue eyes as he tipped his head up to look at her face. "No Neal, it's a little tender if I bump it and I suppose it would hurt if someone grabbed my arm. But the way it is right now, it doesn't hurt."

She handed him an alcohol wipe and pointed for him to clean off the site as she explained how to attach the lure lock device. He carefully pulled the sleeve back into place and buttoned to loop closure, allowing the tubing to drape downward. Violet tucked the bag of medication into a waist pack, set the pump and fastened it around her waist.

Neal drew his eyebrow together in a frown, "just how were you going to hide this from me?"

Violet shrugged, "a big sweatshirt and the tubing fed up through my sleeve and no one ever notices."

Neal rubbed the back of his neck, "How often?"

Violet took his hands in her lap. "Only once a day now, the infection is nearly cleared but enough of this. Our rule has always been that for one night we don't have any painful memories or problems. This is still your birthday celebration and I have some surprises left." She smiled, softly stroking his cheek with her hand.

The clock was striking midnight as Neal lifted his head from the edge of the couch. He was seated on the floor stretched out in front of the fireplace, Violet's arm draped across his chest from her position on the couch above. The movie they had been watching was over and the screen was blank, the dessert plates held nothing but a few crumbs of white chocolate raspberry truffle cake and the chess game was yet unfinished. Neal pulled his legs up setting on the side of his hip as he watched Violet sleep.

Most people would describe this tiny woman as a geek, her pale round face framed with thick dark blunt cut hair, straight bangs and heavy glasses but to him she was beautiful. Violet understood more than the facade and accepted Neal and Mozzie with all their flaws. She was guilty of aiding and abetting on numerous occasions. Their friendship had changed her life, risking a criminal record and her professional reputation, she never turned any of them away. Neal now worried about Glassenger and the ill-fated con that now placed her in imminent danger. He would call Mozzie when he got back to June's.

Neal gently lifted Violet into his arms, tenderly nestling her head against his shoulder as he carried her up the narrow stairway. Taking care not to catch her dangling feet, he shifted her weight moving them away from the railing. She stirred slightly at the movement but continued to sleep. Entering the bedroom, he placed her onto the soft down filled duvet, carefully lowering her head onto the pillow. Cradling her briefly in his soft embrace, he allowed the tip of his nose to trace along the contour of her cheek, coming to rest lightly against the tip of her nose. He could feel her warm breath mix with his own as he hovered there filled with conflicted emotions. Over the years they had flirted, dancing dangerously close to the line between friends and lovers but neither had ever dared to cross fearing the loss of their precious friendship.

He closed his eyes, slowly tipping his head down and softly brushing his lips against hers in a fleeting kiss. "I love you Violet, a part of me always has." His words spoken with a voice too soft to be heard by any other than his own heart. Standing, he reached down and covered her with the soft chenille bed scarf, tucking it loosely around her slight body. He wanted nothing more than to hold her close through the night, feeling her warmth against him. When they met, his intentions were to steal her life's work but in reality, she had stolen a piece of his heart, keeping it safe all these years.

He quietly retreated down the stairs, picking up his sketch diary, coat and hat. As he walked past the mirror he looked at himself remembering Elizabeth's words, "There is a difference between loving the idea of someone and actually loving who they are."

Rushing out into the cold night air, wanting to clear his head, Neal stepped to the curb with his arm raised. As he moved from the curb onto the pavement, he sensed someone closed behind but still flinched as the barrel of a gun press firmly against his side, digging into his ribs. "What say we share this cab ride, Mr. Caffrey?"

Neal gestured toward the door with a sweeping motion. "My Mother always taught me to be a gentleman. Be my guest I can wait for the next one."

The unknown man reached up grabbing the back of Neal's neck, roughly ducking his head down as he shoved him into the back seat of the cab.

"I usually don't go in for the rough stuff." Neal smoothed his lapels. "But if you treat me right, I know where we can get a nice glass of Courvoisier and a Bolivar Cuban."

The driver turned to face Neal, exhibiting a familiar smug grin as he pulled away from the curb. "Always the comedian, eh Caffrey? Sorry, don't think you'll be returning to the MoMA any time soon and definitely no night cap for you. If sweet shrinking Violet didn't satisfy your needs, it's your loss."

Neal raised his hand as a diversion, as he reached for the door handle behind him. "I even gave you a good tip, but here's a better one …"

The man wielding the weapon grabbed Neal's lapel and pulled the gun up between his eyes. "I wouldn't try that Mr. Caffrey; it could be prematurely detrimental to your health. You wouldn't want Miss Violet to have to identify you with a gaping hole in your head. She seems rather delicate right now."

Neal swallowed hard as he tried to refocus on the kidnapper's face. "Leave Violet out of this … Glassenger's issues are with me. I can provide him with the formulations and a man to prepare them."

The gunman lowered his aim to Neal's heart. "Oh it doesn't work like that Mr. Caffrey. Mr. Glassenger has plans for you and your friend. Hope you enjoyed your little romantic evening with Miss Violet. Sad to say it will be her last."

Neal slowly reached back this time successfully pulling the door open. His body falling partially through the open door as the street below rapidly rushed past his vision. His assailant lurched forward, yanking him back by his lapel and cracking him hard against the cheek with the butt of the gun. Neal's vision narrowed as he blinked repeatedly trying to maintain consciousness. His hand again resting on the door handle, he pulled up hard.

"Aaaa … Aaaagh!" the scream pierced the stillness of the ICU.

Vanessa bolted standing upright as her chair careened backward toward the wall, rushing across the hall closely followed by Kathy. She approached Neal's bed and abruptly stopped in shock as she saw Neal holding the bloody ends of his chest tube and surgical drain. His gown was already saturated with blood. In his agitated state, he waved the tubes, breathing in a shallow rapid pattern. "They're going to kill Violet! Glassenger is going to kill her!

Kathy leaned over the railing in an attempted to gently restrain him as Vanessa hurriedly pulled on a pair gloves, raising the head of the bed and unsnapping the shoulder of his gown. Neal trashed out violently against the gentle restraining hold, again gasping and panting. "Mr. Caffrey, please calm down. You must stay still for me. Pulling your chest tube out like that can be life threatening. "

She reached under his arm, pressing the heel of her hand tightly over the gaping chest tube incision as Neal struggled to recoil away from her grasp. "Kat, page the surgeon on call STAT, he has a potential tension pneumo in progress and grab some vasoline gauze."

Neal continued to struggle against her with every ounce of his strength. "C-call Pe-ter, pleez, pleez call A-gent B-urk.!"

Vanessa turned his chin and forced Neal to look at her. "You must calm down now and listen to me. Then and only then will I call Agent Burke."

Neal slumped against Vanessa's restraining arm his lips turning dusky. "Mr. Caffrey, stay with me …. Neal … Neal." She tapped his cheek as his head dropped forward.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who is reading Forged Friendships. It is my first fan fiction and I greatly appreciate all your comments and constructive help so far. Please take time to let me know what you think. Sincerely - SK Musings