A Reason to Live

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA network.

Chapter 3

Neal woke up to a really bad headache. He realized he was in his own bed, but didn't remember how he got there; his mind seemed really fuzzy. He laid there for a few more minutes while he tried to sort out what he remembered before he had fallen asleep. Thoughts of a wine bottle flitted through his brain; he and Mozzie both appreciated a good bottle of wine, but he couldn't quite remember what that had to do with anything. He also started thinking about Elle, but wasn't sure where she fit in. His mind kept whirring, but he became frustrated that he couldn't connect all the random pieces in his mind.

Suddenly, it hit him and he sat straight up in bed, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. Elizabeth had startled him just as he had felt a surge of anger and regret over Kate's death. He had flung the empty bottle of Merlot at the door; not realizing she was there. He could have killed her! What was he thinking? He felt sick to his stomach; waves of nausea passing over him as he remembered what had almost happened. How was he ever going to explain this to Peter?

Neal put his head in his hands and let himself cry. He was a failure. He had failed Kate - his whole world, his existence, his reason for living. He cried for the future they would never have, and the past he would never forget. She had been taken from him so violently and he would never see her smiling face again, never kiss her tenderly, or run his fingers through her beautiful hair.

He had failed Elle as well, a woman who had taken him under her wing like a son and in a fit of rage, he had almost killed her.

He was certain that Elle would tell Peter and he was also certain that Peter was going to be furious. He just might be mad enough to try and stick him with an attempted murder charge, and Neal knew that Peter had him dead to rights; the word 'alleged' would not be coming up in the conversation. Neal had gotten himself into a situation where he had no idea how to fix it; he knew he couldn't sweet talk his way out of this one. He had really screwed up, and he was never going to forgive himself. He felt himself spiraling out of control…how had he let himself sink this far? He, Neal Caffrey, conman extraordinaire, was a master of control, a master of his emotions, and yet he felt his whole world crashing around his feet; his façade shattered and completely in ruins.

A thought suddenly hit him…his feet…he remembered standing in broken glass. He remembered he was wearing slippers, but he could feel it under his feet as he had walked closer to the door. He remembered a look of horror on Elle's face. Carefully he put his feet down on the side of the bed to check for broken glass. He might as well clean up before he figured out what to do to extricate himself from Peter's wrath. Neal carefully made his way toward the kitchenette, looking over to his right toward the doorway, but he couldn't find any remnants of the broken wine bottle. Hmmm. That was strange, had he dreamt that? He was really starting to get confused. How was he supposed to figure out what was real and what was a figment of his imagination? He really needed this headache to go away. He reached for the bottle of allergy medication on the counter and took two more.

##

Peter, Elle and June had finished the tea and scones long ago, but they had continued to softly chat. Peter occasionally wandered around the rooftop terrace soaking in the view. He stopped by Elle's chair to give her a hug from behind, not because she really needed one, but because he wanted to touch her again. He wanted to make sure that she was still ok without having to admit the wine bottle incident had shaken him up more than he cared for.

"I think I'm going to check on Neal. You can keep up your womanly conversations."

Both Elle and June laughed; that was fine with them.

##

Neal was standing near the table when he was startled by a noise; he turned his head toward the terrace and saw Peter entering. Neal's first thought was that Peter had come to either kill him or put him back in prison for the wine bottle incident with Elizabeth; not even stopping to think that Peter had come in from the roof terrace and not the apartment door. His face showed stark terror for several seconds before it was replaced with a more innocent look.

Peter noticed Neal's horrified expression and how long it lasted before it was replaced by his what-did-I-do look. Wow, Peter thought, he's even more messed up than I thought if he can't conceal his emotions better than this.

Neal, with his innocent look plastered on his face, really thought that Peter was going to kill him as

Peter advanced into the room.

"What do you know about 'The Little Street'?"

Neal's fuzzy brain was busy over analyzing…Is this where he means to kill me or does he want to do it with witnesses? He had just noticed that Elle and June were talking out on the terrace, and he hoped that Peter would be smart enough not to hurt him in their presence. Neal was trying to remember where the nearest dumpster was and if that was where Peter was planning on stashing his body. The name of the street sounded odd though, and Neal didn't remember it. Why would he want him to know about 'the little street' if he was just taking him back to jail though…that didn't make sense either. Neal's head was swimming and he was desperately trying to recall how much of the Merlot he had consumed last night with Mozzie and if that was why his head was so fuzzy.

"Neal? Neal!"

Neal was so out of it, he didn't even hear the first time Peter called his name. His eyes tentatively sought out Peter's face; Peter noticed the desperation in Neal's eyes, and lost his train of thought.

"Neal, are you ok?"

Peter had a slight smirk on his face, but Neal was far too embarrassed thinking that it could only get worse; he was only wearing his silk pajama bottoms and a bathrobe. Did Peter have any decency? Certainly Peter didn't intend to kill him outside in his pajamas and a bathrobe?

Neal was beginning to feel a bit queasy, and noticed the room shifting before he passed out at Peter's feet.

##

"Neal. Hey, Neal!"

Neal was very confused. He didn't feel dead, but he didn't feel great either. His eyes finally focused and discovered that Peter was bending over him. He realized somehow he had ended up on the floor. What did Peter do to him? Neal pushed himself along the floor trying to scoot away from Peter as quickly as possible, but Peter only needed to take a few steps to catch up with the figure on the floor. Neal didn't even try to hide the terror in his eyes.

"The Marshall's can track my anklet…They'll find my body. You can't just dump me somewhere and think no one will find me."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point Neal…to track where you are…you know just in case you decide to run."

Run? How on earth did Peter expect him to run? Wait…if he ran, Peter would be forced to shoot him. It would look justified instead of outright murder. He had really underestimated Peter, but there was no way he could run in his condition. He needed to buy some time, time to get his strength back and figure out what to do before Peter finished the job. As pathetic as begging sounded, Neal couldn't think of anything else to do.

"Peter? Please…Please don't kill me right now. Please, just let me go back to prison. Peter, I swear I wasn't trying to hurt her! I just…I just didn't know she was there! I swear; I didn't mean to hurt her."

Neal paused to take a deep breath trying to calm himself down; he was hyperventilating, and Peter was starting to look fuzzy again, but not before Neal could see a smile appearing on Peter's face; that was definitely not a look of sympathy. Neal gave up…why would Peter believe him? He closed his eyes, curled into a fetal position trying to protect himself as much as possible and waited for the worst; his muscles tense as he waited for whatever Peter was going to do to him. He relaxed slightly when it occurred to him that he would finally be with Kate. How ironic. Peter had prevented him from running toward her after the explosion, and now Peter was the one who was going to kill him; to allow him to be with Kate forever.

Peter was desperately trying not to laugh. At first, he hadn't understood Neal's comment about the Marshall's and his anklet. It seemed to be a no brainer, but then he could see that Neal's whole body was tense, as if waiting for something bad to happen. He realized that Neal really did think he was going to kill him. He had never seen Neal this bent out of shape - ever. However, laughing was the worst possible thing he could do at the moment; he had to show Neal that this was not the end of the world that he believed it to be.

Peter walked back out to the terrace and asked Elle to come inside.

"There is something really wrong with Neal. He's lying on the floor curled up into a fetal position. He asked me not to kill him. Clearly he's not firing on all cylinders. I think he might be more receptive to you."

Elle walked back into the apartment with Peter and got down on her knees for the second time that day to comfort Neal. She lightly shook one of Neal's shoulders; he did seem really tense.

"Neal? It's Elle. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

It took Neal a moment, but finally she could see that he had cracked one eye open just enough to verify that it was indeed her.

"Where's Peter?"

"He's still here, he hasn't left."

"He's trying to kill me. I…I think he drugged me, cause I can't think, but that's ok. I just..just wanna to be with Kate."

"Kill you? What on earth would I kill you for?"

Neal apparently didn't realize that Peter could hear him. He saw Peter's face look down on him. Peter looked about as confused as Neal felt. Peter noticed the panicked look on Neal's face didn't go away and he didn't look like he believed Peter either.

"Ok…Ok…so maybe one or two times the thought has crossed my mind, but this is not one of those times. Elle, June and I are all here to help because we are concerned about you. Why do you think I would want to kill you?"

"Elle. You're mad about Elle."

Neal was desperately trying to breathe while pushing the panic down in his chest and concentrate on how happy he would be when he saw Kate.

"You thought I was mad about Elle?"

The light bulb went on in Peter's head. He realized Neal was having a panic attack because he thought Peter would be furious enough about the wine bottle to attempt bodily harm. He also reflected, quite accurately, that when it came to Elle and her safety he did have a tendency to overreact; poor Neal. Peter actually felt worse for him than he had a few minutes ago.

"Neal, you're safe. I'm not going to hurt you, or kill you, or whatever is going through your mind. I'm not going to arrest you or put you back in prison either. Is that ok?"

Peter wasn't so sure that Neal comprehended that statement from the look on his face.

"It's ok Peter, I'm not mad at you. I hurt Elle; I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to hurt Kate either, but now I can be with her. It's ok."

Peter was now coming to the conclusion that maybe Neal had drunk more than the bottle of Merlot…maybe he had overdosed on some kind of medicine or pills as well; that in itself was a dangerous combination and might explain why Neal was really behaving strangely.

"Neal, we just want to be here for you. Kate was a very important part of your life, and now she's gone, but you're still here and June, Elle and I are here for you as well. You're not alone. We want to help you, not hurt you. I know that you didn't mean to hurt Elle with the wine bottle."

"You did something. I saw you standing there, and then I was on the floor. What did you do to me?"

"Neal, I didn't do anything. I came to check on you, and you fainted. I think you've had too much to drink, and you must have taken some pills. That's not a good combination. You really need to rest. I promise I won't kill you in your sleep."

Peter helped Neal back to bed, but noticed that his comment didn't seem to cheer Neal up. Once Peter made sure that Neal was safely under the covers, he motioned to Elle and June, who had come in from the terrace, that they should leave Neal alone to sleep.

"Neal, if you need anything we'll be downstairs."