Details: You guys are awesome, I love you all so much! I am really sorry to report that I might not be updating as fast because I start sports tryouts/practice next week, and that will take up a great chunk of time. So sorry to all! But I promise not to leave you hanging for more than three days.
Summary: While working on a case involving a child trafficker, Peter gets an unexpected surprise on his doorstep. The adventures of our favourite little con as a child! :)
Disclaimer: If I owned White Collar, I would own Matt Bomer. If I owned Matt Bomer, well, you'd hear about it…. ;)
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Elle peeked into the yellow walled guest bedroom, peering into the tiny blue crib. She saw Neal's sleeping from shifting from side to side rapidly. The child moaned, thrashing about. She hurried over quickly in alarm.
"Neal, baby what's wrong?" She whispered in case he was still sleeping. She grasped his tiny fist, as she leaned over the pack-n-play
His blue eyes popped open. They were wildly searching the room, tears filling them. The little boy was shaking, trying to shrug off his blanket. His curls were matted to his forehead with glistening sweat.
"I had a bad dre-am!" He shouted, reaching upwards towards the comfort of Elle's embrace. She picked him up almost immediately.
"What was it about?" She asked, settling his head against her shoulder. He felt strangely warm.
He picked his head up, and looked into her eyes, tears flowing freely down his little cheeks. "A man, he came in through that windy-ow. He stuck a pricking thing in my arm. It hurt Ell-ee." He buried himself back into her hair, sobbing uncontrollably. She whispered comforts to him, and stroked his back, his face felt hot against the skin of her shoulder.
She brought him out, and sat him onto her lap, placing her hand gently against his forehead. It was scorching to the touch. "Neal honey, do you feel bad?" She asked in a gentle tone.
His face suddenly paled to the shade of the white curtains. "Ell-ee. I no feel so good. I think I gonna be sick." He grasped his t-shirt where his stomach was.
"Okay." Elle said, picking up the boy carefully, walking him down the hall to the small bathroom, cautious not to jostle him too much. She set him down near the toilet, and opened the porcelain seat. The poor baby leaned over and began vomiting violently, some of it splashing over onto the white tiles. Elle counted, and she had to flush the nearly full toilet twice before he was finished. When he was, he collapsed against her in a feverish heap. He groaned, grabbing his t-shirt again, fist twisting the fabric.
"Oh, you poor thing." She said, dabbing his sweating face with a towel before fashioning it into a pillow, which she slipped beneath his head.
"When I was little, when I was sick, my mommy used to give me a cool bath to bring down my fever. Do you want one?" She asked, kissing his messy hair.
His eyes were weary, and his breathing was labored. "I sorry for making a mess." He whispered, the tears returning.
"Honey, it's alright. Your tummy wasn't feeling good. It is a mess I can clean up." She said.
"I like baths." He whispered hoarsely.
"Alright then! It's a go. I am going to lay you down on this very fluffy bath mat, and get it started." She placed his tiny body down on top of the towel and blue mat. He shuddered, a violent shake arched his child sized frame.
Elizabeth quickly turned on the silver knob and watched as the water gushed from the pipes. She made it extra cool, before scooping the baby into her arms. She slipped off the t-shirt and his underwear, and deposited him into the stilled water. He shivered at first, but she watched as he relaxed against the cool porcelain and his eyes slid closed.
He stayed that way for a while, but he had to rise twice to puke again into the toilet. The second time, Elle barely had time to wrap a towel around his naked torso before he retched the rest of the contents of his stomach into the bowl. He started dry heaving, his hands clutching the sides of the toilet. Then he fell backwards into Elle's waiting arms. He fell asleep against her, his body still dripping from his final encounter with the bath. She quickly re-adjusted his towel, and carried him into her bedroom, settling him carefully against the king sized pillows. After she grabbed one of Peter's undershirts and put it over his head gently, she noticed something peculiar on his fore arm. She touched it carefully, and leaned forward to get a closer look.
She wanted to ask Neal what it was, but the little guy had just fallen into a deep peaceful sleep. She slapped a hand over he mouth to contain the gasp that threatened to disturb the child. She knew what the mark was. It was circular, and located close to one of Neal's blue veins.
Elle walked over to the telephone, fingers flying over the keypad as she dialed her husband's number.
"Honey! Something's wrong with Neal. He told me he had a nightmare that involved a man coming in through the window, and injected some substance into him with a needle. I thought that he was just dreaming, but he has a puncture mark on him, and he has been throwing up for the past hour. I think someone poisoned him." She said breathlessly, running a hand through her hair.
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UH OH! SOMEONE POISONED NEAL! Please Read and Review, they are greatly appreciated! :)))