(Chapter 3)

Neal never got around to calling Dr. Carlson back that day. Once Sara and he had gotten back to his brownstone, they cuddled on the couch with some wine, the one he had spoke of and then having missed each other the past week, they went upstairs to catch up. At some point they fell asleep in the others arms, a smile on both of their faces. He dreamed of the future and when he woke up realized it was time to get down to deciding when their wedding would be. Perhaps he was feeling impulsive, the loss of Kate weeks before the wedding still fresh in his memory. Despite his past, Neal was certain he wanted to be married soon and Sara seemed to feel the same way. His thoughts were thus as he fell once again into a relaxed state of mind, arm wrapped around his fiancee and went back to sleep.

Someone was choking, or coughing uncontrollably. The sound was close by as he turned and found himself in darkness. There was a sense of haze about him, his hand clinging to something no… to someone else's hand. It wasn't Sara's as he turned to find another figure laying nearby. The man was curled up beside him, their arm draped over him protectively. There was no motion but he could hear someone coughing as if they couldn't breath. Neal tried to nudge them but he couldn't move, his body aching as he shifted ever so slightly but not enough to nudge the man. He just wanted a look at the figure, see who they were and see where he was.

"I think there's someone over here!"

He heard other voices calling out in the near distance and tried to open his mouth to reply but he realized it was himself that was choking suddenly. The sound he had heard was himself, not the other man as he struggled to speak…

Neal… Neal wake up… Neal?

He jerked awake, breathing hard as someone hugged him close and gently patted him on the back. Sara was beside him as they sat up in bed, her face dimly lit by the light from the skylight as she snuggled close, a worried squeeze of her hand wrapped in his. He had been dreaming, a nightmare of some kind but now he was awake. It was like the episode earlier when Theo had found him on kitchen floor, only this time a smell of smoke and haze was evident. He knew it was from the dream but what did it mean and why did he keep dreaming about it? Before he had seen very little but a hint of brown eyes, now he had seen a hand and heard voices. Was he going crazy or just reacting to stress? It made no sense what these visions or hallucinations were as he started to calm down, the nearness of Sara, her soft breath tickling his ear as she spoke quietly to him.

"Are you ok? You were wheezing in your sleep. You sounded terrible and you started to thrash about. What were you dreaming about. Neal?"

Her hazel eyes stared into his worriedly and he smiled despite the fear he felt, trying to calm her and himself. He licked his lips, chewing on the lower one a moment before he smiled again and shrugged.

"I'm fine. Just a nightmare."

He gently kissed her lips, holding her close in the dim light of morning as she reciprocated and they started to cuddle in bed again. He could see she didn't believe his lies but went along with it to ease the tension of the moment.

"That must have been one hell of a nightmare. You still haven't told me about what happened yesterday and don't think I forgot because of our visit to the hospital, mister."

She was teasing him but her tone held concern and finally he felt maybe he should discuss the situation. It wasn't something he understood himself yet but it was a necessary part of being with someone to share feelings, worries… why not the fact he was having fainting spells and nightmares. He waited until they were comfortably settled, his blue eyes staring up at the ceiling moment as he thought about the past week and everything that had occurred.

"I don't know what happened. I keep thinking it has something to do with John Doe. I was fine before he arrived but now… I feel like I've lost my sense of security. Maybe it's stress…"

He turned to look at her and saw he had her full attention. Sara was worried about him and she deserved answers even if he wasn't sure what was going on himself.

"I can't explain but when I fainted I had a dream similar to this nightmare. I feel like I'm somewhere else but when I come to, I don't remember anything. It's just a hazy sense of having been elsewhere. Does that make any sense?"

He closed his eyes a moment, feeling her breath on his chin as she kissed him lightly on the lips, his eyes opening to see her smiling at him.

"You're distancing yourself. Neal. Finding that man on your doorstep… it was probably more shocking than you want to admit. I was the same way when my sister went missing. I had dreams about her calling out to me and I'd wake up a mess. Something is causing this. These things don't just happen."

()()()

It was almost two whole weeks before Neal considered visiting the stranger again. He had been doing research in the meanwhile, checking the gallery's guest lists and online photos of past and present events but the man wasn't in any of them. That didn't mean he hadn't been around. Only a few people ever made it into the photos and not everyone signed the guest book but it was a start. He had even checked back in his yearbooks from Junior High forward and found no images matching this man so that ruled out his past for the moment although maybe the man could have been an adjunct teacher or even a prof from his college days. He wracked his brain between dates with Sara, hanging out with Theo and Sally and doing what little art he could when not distracted by thoughts of the stranger. He was nearly done with his current painting and he felt it would be one of his best pieces yet if he could just finish it. He paused, sipping at a glass of wine while looking up at the painting. Neal knew it wasn't finished but for the event it would do. No artist ever feels a piece they create is ever truly finished but his mind was wandering and he was considering taking a break.

"It's been done to death and yet you found a way to make it new and interesting. Good job, Mon frer."

Theo had let himself in as usual using Neal's emergency key. The little guy had been watching him paint a few minutes before Neal turned and smirked, neither surprised nor shocked his friend had snuck inside. He had simply ignored his friend, his mind on his work. Now he could give a proper reply.

"Why don't you send that review to the New Yorker. I'm sure my agent would love you for it."

He was being sarcastic, the comment rolling off his friend like he was talking matter of fact. Theo nodded.

"I may just do that. You have the editor's contact info don't you?"

Theo glanced at him as if expecting an answer, Neal sighing as he shooed his friend away. Now the little guy was smirking.

"I need to finish this piece before the client's event Monday. Lock the door on the way out."

He was being kind but giving an obvious hint he needed to be alone, Theo shrugged but started to back out of the room.

"Fine, throw your best friend out into the cold December blizzard. The least you could have done was offer me some tea or wine."

Now he was just being teasingly petulant, Neal turning and giving him a look as he waved him away and Theo nodded.

"Ok... ok… I'll just help myself on the way out."

The little guy left the room but Neal could hear him rummaging in the kitchen, the sound of water whistling in a teapot as he sighed and smiled. Theo was like the brother he'd never had, his early family life all but meager. He listened to the sounds of his friend in the other room as his mind wandered back in time.

His mother had been a happy woman but something had changed her after his 4th birthday. He figured it was the death of his father, his mother never getting over losing the love of her life. The precinct and his father's partner had helped some, the pension coming to them after his death but it had not been enough to live on between the two of them. She had told Neal once his blue eyes reminded her of his father but those words haunted him later, his mother growing more distant as time passed from the world and himself. It had been a struggle to get through to her but he had done what he could to make their lives stable by taking care of things as best he could on the side. Nobody knew about how poor they were as he kept up appearances on the outside. He conned everyone to keep their secret. It wasn't her fault things happened the way they did, Neal protective of her even now. His father had died a hero but left a little boy to grow up much faster than he should have, still longing for that extra support and love.

There had been people who helped like his High School art teacher but it was Theo who reminded him of what it might have been like to have an older sibling watching out for him. His mom had died only a short five years ago leaving him in further darkness until he'd met Kate Moreau. It had been a simple commission by her boss, Vincent Adler that ended in a whirlwind romance as he worked on the piece. Vincent had helped him by not just giving a then relatively unknown artist the chance to do a high profile mural, but by also showing him how the upper echelon lived. The man had his quirks but one of his favorite sayings was Clothes made the man. Neal never forgot those lessons, still owning the suit (an expensively tailored Versace) in his closet. He rarely wore it, giving it a look when he was in need of solace. It reminded him of what he had gained and lost; Adler's Learjet was what had killed the millionaire and Kate. He still had nightmares about fire and flames, the past 6 years hard on him but now he had Sara and Theo. It was a family like none other and a support system he'd never had before. Sometimes he couldn't believe his luck.

"Did you want one or two lumps?!"

Theo's voice called out from the kitchen and Neal finally gave in, putting his thoughts aside as he walked over to him. He wiped his hands on the apron around his waist, laying it over a nearby chair as he left the studio and joined his friend.

"Two!"

Neal found that Theo had put out a nice little spread of biscuits from his cabinet and some left overs from a get together a few days ago. He felt a low rumble from his stomach and realized he was kind of hungry. Work would always distract him away from food, partially what Theo called his "artists' diet." June always told him he should put a little meat on his bones, teasing him like a mother as she tailored his suits at her shop. She was the reason he had this house. She had been a friend of the last owner, getting him an exclusive first look when it came up on the market. He turned his attention from his thoughts to see his friend gesture grandly for him to sit.

"Always make time for the finer things in life, Neal. Fame isn't everything…"

They ate in silence a few minutes after that, Theo trying not to be a bother but looking up at him curiously now and again. Finally Neal put his cup of tea and snack down to reply to an unspoken question.

"I don't remember him. I looked through every record I could and then some and he's not anywhere in my life, Theo. I don't understand how he could know me beyond being a paparazzi or an over eager fan. I need answers!"

He was trying to convince himself that the man wasn't putting him on with amnesia but anything was possible at this point. The nightmares were still happening but he had begun to control how he reacted, doing his best to see what it was they were trying to show him. Sara didn't seem to suspect he was still having sleep issues which was what he wanted and Theo… he hadn't told his friend about it and for now meant to keep it secret until he knew what was going on. Besides, his friend liked reading Freud and Jung so the last thing he wanted was an armchair therapist. He had gone to a real one for a few months after his mother's death and for a week after Kate's. It did nothing for him but make him realize how much a waste of time therapy was. His mother had gone through it after his father's death so he had little more than negative thoughts on the topic. Theo sipped quietly at his tea a moment before answering, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Could it be a repressed memory? Maybe he's from your past but even so, there's nobody to tell you who he might be beyond me or Sara and we've never met him before but you said he knew her. I would have to go with your gut and say he's possibly a stalker but not one I'm familiar with. He's not scary but he does give off a private eye kind of feel or maybe a secret agent vibe. Perhaps he was out doing shots of you for a rag and got mugged. Not sure what else to say."

That was a first for his friend to admit defeat and stop talking. He was used to Theo pontificating more. This just proved his point: They were all confused by the man's arrival. Maybe a visit today would help. Nobody needed to know but the doctor and he could tell Theo he was visiting his agent. Andre was a nice man but Theo wasn't a fan, comparing him to a remora or a leech. Why couldn't the man take 10% of someone elses score? Neal had long given up the "I need an agent" speech which stopped Theo from going into his "why do you need an agent when you're so talented on your own" rant. They just gave each other looks now, silent knowing looks and left it at that.

"A private eye? Secret agent? Theo… you've been reading too many true crime stories again. I don't have any skeletons to flush out and you know it. My life's an open book…"

He led quite the boring life beyond his fame as an artist and going to events. Even the questionable things he did as a kid and teen were at best forgotten and too minor to discuss. He had no record, had never gotten a speeding ticket and besides his fame, he was just another pretentious artist at best in many peoples eyes. Who could possibly want to mess up what little idyllic life he had unless Keller was behind this but the man had been MIA for a while now which was for the best in his opinion. He hadn't received any blank postcards in a while which meant his so called former friend was no longer interested in him. That was his hope.

"You can learn quite a bit from True Crime stories, Neal. Trust me… Things happen in cycles and when you least expect it."

()()()

The impromptu tea party ended with some wine, mostly on Theo's end, and Neal sent him home, his friend a bit more inebriated and chatty than he had ever been before. Once his friend was safely in a cab and headed home he could breathe easy again. Now was his opportunity before he chickened out to go chat with the stranger. If he wanted answers, this was the perfect time. Neal went upstairs to clean up. He was barely half way up when he heard a knock at the door and turned around. He wasn't expecting anyone, rolling his eyes as he thought about Theo telling the cabbie to turn the vehicle around and come back. It wouldn't be the first time. He peered through the peephole and blinked in surprise. Neal felt his heart beat a little bit faster but he bolstered himself as he opened the door and gazed into honest brown eyes.

"Mr. Caffrey… I hope you don't mind that I stopped by. They let me out today and I wanted… to thank you in person for your generosity. Dr. Carlson told me about the reward you put up to find out who I am."

He seemed genuinely thankful if not grateful, something that put Neal at ease as he realized the man was shivering in hand me down clothing. The suit he wore was typical off the rack and the coat, though not worse for wear, looked like something out of a Columbo episode. If this was the best the doctor could do on short notice, it was adequate but far from elegant. He opened the door a little more and the man nodded in response as he entered the residence. Maybe he was crazy letting the stranger inside but something told him he could trust the man.

"Call me Neal. Come sit over here, Mr… I don't feel right calling you John Doe."

That was the most uncomfortable part of being around this man: Not having a name. A name meant everything and it set up your identity in many cases. Neal waited for an answer as the man sat down near the fireplace, turning his head to look back at him, face back lit by the flames as he moved to stand nearby. Something about the image bothered him but not enough to send the stranger away.

"I managed to remember a few more things since our last visit, nothing too significant but I have a first name. You can call me Peter."

The man spoke softly, calm in his manner as Neal paused, looking at him a moment before they sat down in adjacent chairs.

"Peter?"

There was something about the name that felt right for some reason. Neal wasn't sure why he thought that but it seemed familiar even if his research into his past and present showed he didn't know anyone by that name or description. He watched the stranger nod back, a less confident expression than in the hospital meeting his. The man, Peter was an enigma. He seemed to know him and yet didn't know himself, a puzzle that Neal wanted resolved if not for the fact he wanted to ease his own mind. Lately he hadn't felt like himself and this man seemed to be the reason why.

"So… Peter, are you a patron of the arts?"

He figured the man was either that or if anything else, a reporter that dealt with the arts for one of the not so well known papers. There were a few out there that were less reputable than the Times and New Yorker. He watched those brown eyes gaze between him and the fire a moment before shaking his head.

"I know that I like art but I wouldn't say I'm a patron by any means. My wife would say I'm the least interested in art galleries next to our dog."

The man stiffened slightly after those words, standing up as if something had happened. Neal watched Peter take a quick walk around then turn back towards him.

"I have a wife? I have a wife… somewhere. I remember now. We have a dog. A yellow dog…"

Peter looked lost in thought a moment, smiling as if happy to know he had remember something significant but soon frowning as he moved back to the seat and slumped into it. Neal watched with interest as those brown eyes moved back to meet his with a look of dejection.

"So you remember who you are then? Do you have a last name?"

Neal was intrigued but the look on the man's face told him the moment had been short lived.

"No… and I… I don't know what her name is only what she looks like."

Peter sighed deeply, his face unhappy enough that Neal felt for him. The stranger was truly lost, his memories incomplete. It was probably foolish what he was doing, and Theo would tell him not to consider it, but he wanted to help the man. Maybe he could find this wife. It was worth a shot…

"Give me a second…"

He stood and left the room, going to his studio to dig up a blank sketch book and pencils. Just as he found what he needed he heard a cough, the man had followed him and stood just outside the door peering in as if asking permission to enter. Neal waved him inside, pointing at a nearby chair.

"Tell me what you remember. Eyes?"

The man sat awkwardly but looked at him with a curious glance, his eyes on the sketch pad and pencils before nodding.

"Large and round… blue, with long lashes."

()()()

It was almost an hour later they had the finished sketch, Neal turning it around to show Peter. He had forgotten his trepidation about the man in general, that worry turning to concern as he saw brown eyes widen and nod.

"That's her… You are a fantastic artist, Mr. Caffrey."

The sentiment was honest as Neal felt a blush reach his cheeks, shrugging his shoulders as he tore the page out and handed it over. Peter gave it a good long look, eyes watery as if he were holding back his emotions. There was a long silence between them before he finally answered back.

"Neal… you can call me Neal."

It was probably more than he should do but the man was in pain and if he was going to get any answers, they were going to need to be close to the other for a bit. Peter nodded back, wiping at his eyes as he tried to hide how he felt.

"Uh… so, where do we start looking for her? I guess it would help if I had a name…"

His voice trailed off uncomfortably, Neal shrugging as he tried to think who could help them find this woman. She seemed familiar to him but he couldn't place her at the moment. Neal was about to reply when he heard the front door open. Peter was still staring at the picture but perked up enough to give him a curious look. Sara had a key to his place but she wasn't supposed to be home for a few hours. The housekeeper had the day off so it could only be…

"Neal! Neal! Where are you?! Neal…"

Theo was shouting from the entrance way as he walked into the studio and paused. He looked like he was more sober than earlier because he seemed to clam up when he saw Peter sitting in the studio. There was a look on his friend's face as if he'd walk in on a murder in progress, reaching for a cane in the container by the door and raising it like a weapon.

"Don't worry, Neal. I'll protect you! Get away from him!"

It was only quick thinking and fast moves on Neal's part he stopped Theo from hitting his guest, giving the little guy a scowl.

"Theo… meet Peter. He's my guest."

He left it at that, holding the cane in his hand behind him as Theo gave him a weird look then turned to look at Peter who was standing now, sketch in hand. It was a strange introduction, the two men giving each other a long stare off before they tentatively shook hands. Peter smiled ever so slightly but said nothing more than a friendly "Nice to meet you." Theo didn't say anything, a semi annoyed look on his face as he pointed at the door for Neal to follow him.

"Excuse us a moment…"

That was all he said to Peter before Neal shrugged and followed, Theo pulling him out of earshot.

"What were you thinking! You invited your stalker into your home?! Neal… do I have to get an intervention started? I'm beginning to worry about you…"

Theo was excited, upset really and paranoid as usual. Neal let him rant a moment, checking inside the room to see Peter was still standing where they'd left him before he turned his attention back to his friend and held up a hand, silencing him.

"He's not… a stalker. In fact, he's remembered a few things. I now know his name is Peter and he might be married, with a dog."

He leaned back against the wall as he spoke, fiddling with the cane some as he tried to distract himself. Theo took it away, putting it on a nearby chair before he started gesticulating but talking more calmly.

"Married? Does he remember his wife's name if she even exists? And a dog? It sounds fishy to me… Do you know what kind of dog?"

Theo always seemed to think the worse of people initially, his sense of paranoia greater than Neal's who had a reason to be paranoid after the Keller incident. This stranger was unusual to say the least but Neal didn't feel threatened by him, not with violence at least. There was an element of mystery that made him nervous and the fact Peter knew him when he could find no proof of him in his life was a puzzle.

"Theo, concentrate on the facts. If I can help him find out who he is, then that makes it easier to figure out how he knows me."

He watched his friend open his mouth to protest then stop, nodding as if he had considered the option and finally agreed.

"Fine, but if he ends up being an ax murderer… don't tell me I didn't tell you so."

They were finally in agreement on how to deal with his unusual visitor when he heard Peter say something in the other room.

"This is a beautiful painting…"

Neal was curious what the comment was about as he moved back into the room, Theo on his heels. Peter was standing near his most recent work, turning to smile and compliment him.

"I'm glad… I came by."

Peter had obviously meant to say more but didn't, an enigmatic smile on his face as he turned and gazed up at the huge painting which was a colorful depiction of the Chrysler Building. He saw honest adoration in those eyes and it seemed to make him happy, Theo watching them with arms crossed over his chest in disapproval. The little guy was tapping his foot quietly, something distracting him a moment as he picked up a paper from the chair Peter had sat on. He pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and eased them onto his face, blinking at the sketch.

"Neal… is there a reason why you made a portrait of the caterer? I admit she's rather pretty and a sweet woman but what would Sara say?"

They turned to look at him, Theo paling slightly at the sudden attention. Much as he was now the owner of the Children's Home and dealt with people daily on the operation of the place, he was still quite the private person and hated public speaking if possible. Having Neal and Peter looking at him in unison seemed to be giving him a complex.

"What?"

Theo looked shocked to say the least, Peter looking at Neal with a hopeful look.

"Your caterer?"

There was a hint of accusation in the man's voice, Neal walking over to look at the picture again as he took it from the confused Theo. He gave the image another glance and suddenly realized he did know her.

"I didn't realize that's who I was drawing. Ms. Mitchell has shorter hair and wears glasses. You described a woman with longer hair…"

Neal started to rework the sketch, sitting down at his easel as he changed the image slightly. When he held it up to Theo, the little guy nodded his head enthusiastically but when he showed it to Peter, the man looked a bit confused.

"That… looks like my wife but she has long hair and no glasses. I don't understand… Mitchell? Doesn't feel familiar..."

Neal noted how confused Peter looked, suspicions for now gone as they tried to figure out the mystery of how his caterer, whom he had never known to be married (honestly, he had never asked her), might now be the key to all of the mystery surrounding what was going on. He hadn't talked to her in about two weeks since the charity event. Maybe now was the time to ask for some more of that pistachio ice cream.

"Theo… I'll be right back."

He gave his friend a look that said "watch him" and also "behave" before he left the room and headed for his study. He still had her card in his planner so maybe he could call and ask her a few questions. He could just act like it's chitchat while he requested more of her famous ice cream. What was the harm?

"Mitchell Premier Events… Elizabeth speaking."