It was Diana who checked early next morning the reports that had come in overnight. Most of them were routine paperwork. Picking up the next sheet from the stack of papers, she paled suddenly reading the details. The report came in at 11:27 pm. She grabbed the phone and called to get a status update. Agent Barrigan was relieved to hear that the situation hadn't compounded overnight.
"Boss, you should read this. It's about Caffrey. It's not good." She handed Burke the report.
Neal had been taken to the infirmary last night after being stabbed. The prison doctor estimated he'd been lying in his cell for at least half an hour before he'd been found. A kidney and one of his lungs were damaged and he'd lost a considerable amount of blood. He had undergone emergency surgery and whilst his condition was severe, it wasn't life threatening.
Burke drove over to the prison in a rush. At first, he was denied access to the infirmary. Still, he was very insistent, flashed his badge and finally entered the ward. There were four beds with patients in the room. Scanning the hospital beds, he didn't recognize his partner and thought the nurse had led him into the wrong room. Then, the name Neal Caffrey written on the medical chart tagged to one of the beds caught his eye.
Taking a closer look, he recognized the pale, bandaged man. Tubes and IV lines were connected to his body; his heart rate was displayed on a monitor. "Why is he restrained? You don't expect him to attempt an escape right now, do you?" The agent was incredulous and visibly annoyed.
The nurse tried to calm him down. "That's for his own good. We don't want him to tear out the medical equipment when he tosses and turns in one of his nightmares. You may sit with him, but don't expect him to wake up soon."
Half an hour later a doctor showed up and briefed Peter on Neal's medical condition. "He's been lucky. He had internal bleedings. The good news is we could stop them. We suspected a kidney rupture which fortunately didn't prove true. There'll be no permanent damage. Certainly, he will need some time to recover."
Peter shook his head. "I wouldn't say he's lucky seeing him like this... But I'm relieved to hear that he will heal."
It was an hour later when Neal's heart rate increased rapidly. The unconscious patient started to moan and convulse. Now, the agent appreciated the restrains. He wished he could do something, anything to help his friend. Following his gut instinct, he took Neal's hand and held it tight. He was stroking the back of the hand softly with his own thumb. The reaction was immediate; the heart rate steadied and the young man relaxed visibly. Nevertheless, the agent didn't let go of his friend's hand.
After lunch, he was asked to leave the room since the patients were going to have a full medical examination.
Agent Burke used the break to see the warden. He made it clear beyond doubt that he expected an investigation on the brutal attack the night before. He wouldn't settle for anything less than complete clarification. Charges had to be filed against the thugs as well as the guards who had neglected their duty.
Back at the infirmary, he was pleasantly surprised to find Neal awake. He sat back down on the chair next to the bed. "Neal, you're awake! I'm so glad you made it."
The injured man stared at him in disgust. His voice was hoarse, obviously it hurt to speak. Only three words passed his chapped lips, "Leave me alone!" Since he was restrained, he couldn't turn his back on the agent. Therefore, he was just turning his head in the other direction and closed his eyes.
Neal Caffrey retreated to his inner safe place. He could see the sublime landscape of the Côte d'Azur. The white quartz sand was glistening in the sun, the azure blue Mediterranean gleaming. He didn't hear the FBI man's voice anymore but was listening to the buzz of the cafés and shops along the sea front, accompanied with Trenet's musical piece 'La Mer'. There was no smell of disinfectants or blood, only salty sea air mixed with herbs and lavender from nearby fields. He felt the warmth on his skin and the breeze in his hair. His breathing calmed down and ease flooded through him. He retreated to this haven whenever the reality was too hard to bear.
For a couple of years, his safe place had been a living room in Brooklyn, listening to dog barks and friendly chatter in the next room, smelling freshly brewed coffee and dinner leftovers, feeling the anklet chafing his leg. Not anymore. He avoided thinking about that place at all, too much pain. The Côte d'Azur was much more comfortable right now.
Peter Burke felt frustrated. He was wondering how to get Neal to even talk to him, let alone work with him again. Or was he fighting a lost cause. The crushing words his former partner had uttered when they had parted last week came to his mind. 'You know, trust is like glass. Once broken it can't be glued together. Broken beyond repair.' Could this be true?
At 5 pm the infirmary was closed for visitors, therefore he had to leave. A gray-haired woman in plain clothes addressed him on his way out. "Agent Burke? Are you Special Agent Burke from the FBI?"
"Yes, that's right. Did the warden send you?"
"Oh no, I'm Angela Cummins, working as behavioral health counselor for the inmates. I heard you stayed with Caffrey all day. That's quite unusual for an FBI agent; hence I was curious to meet you. I know already that Caffrey has been working for you for almost 2 years. Is that the reason you came here today?" Her eyes looked friendly. In addition, her face showed genuine interest.
"It's more than that. He hasn't been merely working for me. He has been my partner… and friend."
She felt sympathetic. "Hm. It must be difficult for you that he has belied your expectations, wound up in prison again. It's always hard to bear when a friend betrays your trust."
The agent was wondering how much she knew. "To my own shame, I have to admit it has been the other way round, Mrs Cummins. Neal has done nothing wrong. Instead, I believed baseless accusations rather than trusting him as a good friend would have done. Now, he prefers to stay in prison, even though his life is in danger, and refuses to be released into my custody. Let's face it, he hates me and has every right to do so. Do you have an idea how I could get through to him?" He didn't hope for much. But if Neal had confided in her she could actually help.
"I don't think Mr. Caffrey hates you. Yes, he is disappointed and upset with all his might, but he doesn't hate you."
Peter glanced at her unbelievingly. "What makes you think that?"
A smile passed over Mrs. Cummins' face. "I've met many prisoners in all the years I've been working here. Almost all of them bring along some personal items to remind them of their life outside or the people they've left behind, as means of comfort. I've seen photos of all kinds, baby bootees, rosaries, a girlfriend's underwear, family bibles or The Communist Manifest. Name it, I've seen it. Yet, Mr. Caffrey was the very first inmate who brought a plastic sheriff's star. He had to remove the pin to conform to the prison's security guidelines, but he was very insistent to keep that sheriff's star with him. What's more, he has carried it with him until this very day. I suppose this star has some connection to you or the FBI. You don't keep such a souvenir if you hate the man it represents."
Peter was astonished and smiled wistfully, remembering the moment Neal had taken the sheriff's star. "He pinched it from a packet of cereals at my home. I didn't even know that he kept it. Then why isn't he talking to me?"
"It's complicated. He wants to reconcile with you, get his life back, at the same time he is caught in his desperation and can't overcome this mountain high pile of betrayal of trust. Unfortunately, I have to agree with you; he's not safe behind bars, plus he is running out of time. Is there any way that you can take the decision out of his hands?"
Peter hit on an idea. It might not be a legitimate thing to do, albeit most certainly a right one. You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs.
After leaving prison he drove straight to June's house. The housekeeper opened the door when he knocked. She refused him access very politely telling him Mrs. Ellington was not at home.
Peter stopped her before she shut the door. "Please, tell her it's about Neal. He's in danger! Serious, life-threatening danger. I need her help to save him."
The housekeeper hesitated. Before she closed the door she told him. "Please wait a moment, Agent Burke."
After a couple of moments, the front door opened and June appeared. The door stood ajar, she was blocking the entrance, looking tight-lipped. "Peter, what can I do for Neal?"
The agent understood her resentment. He knew she wouldn't grant him much time to explain. "I know I've messed things up completely. But I'm afraid Neal won't survive much longer in there. He's seriously injured and in the infirmary right now. We need to get him out, yet the only way to achieve it is making him work as a consultant for the Bureau. Evidently, he's not even willing to talk to me, still less to work with me. I need his signature on this contract regardless."
June was apparently shocked hearing the grim news. "I'm very sorry. I wish I could help. Only, he's not talking to me either. There's no way for me to persuade him into signing the document."
"I need to speak to Mozzie. Can you get in contact with him?"
The old landlady was sad at heart. "Mozzie hasn't seen Neal since his imprisonment either. He won't be able to talk him into anything. Neal has shut out everyone who's dear to him."
"June, as I've said we need his signature on the contract. I didn't say he has to sign himself. This is where Mozzie comes in. Of course, it would help if Neal's lawyer attests that everything is legit. Do you think you can help?"
She nodded and the hint of a smile flitted across her face as she opened the door wide. "Peter, please come in. Mozzie will need some time to come over. Let's drink some coffee while we're waiting..."
AN:
I love your reviews. All of them. Thank you so much.
The next chapter will need some days, it's has to be beta read first. I'd like to ask for your patience. I can promise, this story will be completed. It won't be one of those which will remain unfished. I've written most of it already. But these chapters will need a lot more quality control - even before I can hand them over to my wonderful beta...