Two reasons for the delay: 1) My major is film production and over spring break I was working on a short film in 12 to 14 hour shifts so I didn't have time to write. 2) I was overwhelmed by the response this little story received! I'm so happy that you all enjoyed it, but I became intimidated and started to doubt whether I could satisfy all of you, which broke my number one rule of writing: Write for yourself, no one else. If other people enjoy it, it's a plus.

That being said, I'm not sure how I feel about this short chapter, but as I was writing it I was getting bored with all the traditional medical/hospital scene hoopla that usually appears so I decided to go a different route...I hope that's okay and that you still enjoy it!

She was there, silently begging him to do something, anything. He wanted to run to her, protect her from the world he didn't mean to bring down on her.

But isn't that just it? He's trapped in a world people seem to think he has the choice of leaving, when in reality he can only stand on the boundary between his world and everyone else's and he knows if he stands there long enough, he'll get lonely, get greedy, and he'll con someone into thinking the boundary is a few feet back from where it's supposed to be.

He felt the blood oozing down his arms, the skin peeling back on his knuckles, before his hands were free, the only thing in his life that ever was. She took her eyes off the gunman and captured his blue ones in a way no one else ever could and began saying something he couldn't quite hear. He held his breath and willed her voice to reach his ears. It was shrill at first, horrifyingly so, before the cocking of a gun cut between the noise and her voice became clear.

"Save her, Neal! Save her!"

Since the day she died, Neal had told himself that given the chance, he would never let Kate down again. So when her blurry figure disappeared from behind Elizabeth kneeling on the ground with a gun in her face, Neal got up to keep his promise.

Neal was punching blind, trying to keep Elizabeth on her side of the boundary, trying to keep the dangers in his, but suddenly there was an arm around his neck and a gun at his temple and he knew there were only two ways it could end and he would be damned if it wasn't the second.

However, as his hands coiled around the man's hand and his weapon, Ellen appeared beside Elizabeth with a shaking head. "Don't, Neal." He stared at her for a fraction of a second before the smell of whiskey was under his nose and a whisper was in his ear, "I'm gonna make her bleed, boy."

Neal had always had a bit of a rebellious streak in him, but what he was about to do wasn't to out right disobey the only mother he ever really knew, it was to save the one who had taught him what it meant to have one in the first place. He looked back at Ellen, her face in a perfect expression of knowing what he was going to do even before he did and her head shaking from side to side. He tightened his hands around the weapon, let "I'm sorry" brush through his lips like dust being blown from an old book and pulled the trigger.

She paid no mind to the warmth deriving from the pool of crimson under her knees, instead focused on the cold skin beneath her fingers as they held Neal's mask-less face. Blue irises were bursting between the half-mast eyelids they hid behind as if trying not to let their secrets spill out in fear.

"Neal, stay with me, okay?" Her hands were shaking over the paling skin of his face and the side of his convulsing neck, before she placed them down on the gunshot wound in his chest. His breath hitched, and his irises pried through his heavy eyelids for a fraction of a gut-wrenching second, before hiding once more and dimming.

"Neal?" He was staring off into space, seeing something that Elizabeth begged he wouldn't choose to follow. "Hey, hey, hey, come on, now. Right here, Neal. I'm right here." One of her blood slicked hands found the side of his cold face and brought eyes dimming like a flickering flame to her burning bright ones. He smiled at her, though not strong enough to even produce lines in his skin. Her lips wobbled as they tried to return the gesture, before she began stroking the side of his temple and the first few curls of his unruly hair. She leaned forward slightly, tears sliding down her face and whispered, "Right here, sweetheart. Right here."

Peter and Elizabeth sat side by side, completely silent, completely still.

"He apologized."

It was the first thing she had said since they had left the warehouse where she and Neal had been taken and it caught Peter completely off guard. "El?"

She was staring at the ground, but turning her head partially to the side to show she was talking to him. Her mouth wobbled showing her inner debate, before she bit them in punishment for it and swallowed thickly. "He...said he was sorry."

"Who? The man who took you?" Peter asked.

Elizabeth was still for a moment, then her head slowly began moving side to side. "Neal."

Peter stilled, unable to wrap his head around it all, but felt his wife shiver underneath his arm and hugged her close. "Honey, you don't have to-"

"I...I just don't...I want to know...what he meant."

Peter closed his eyes, pressing his lips to her temple before resting his head against hers. "Well...you can ask him when he wakes up."

Elizabeth buried her face in his chest and could hear the thumping of his heart. It was the sound of her husband and it made her feel secure, but when she caught a glimpse of Neal's anklet held tightly in Peter hand, she realized that it wasn't just the sound of Peter that she heard, it was the sound of Neal, too. So she sat there in the waiting room of the critical care unit of the hospital, praying that it wouldn't be the only place that she could find their boy.

Peter sat on the edge of a chair beside a hospital bed, elbows on his knees, clasped hands at his mouth, as he stared at the patient in the bed. He would close his eyes briefly every now and then, and open them back up with more effort than the last. He would jog his leg up and down for a few seconds before stopping and rubbing his thighs. But never once, did his attention leave the patient.

Neal saw all of it from where he stood on the opposite side of the bed. He furrowed his brow at Peter's distress and slowly turned his head, pausing to let his eyes catch up, and looked at the patient, but the man lying in the bed was blurry. Everything else was in crystal clear perfection, the medical machines, the IVs and wires, the tube snaking down the patient's throat, the bedsheets covering half his body and even Peter.

He turned his attention back to the agent. "Peter?" His voice sounded odd in the complete dead silence of the room. He couldn't even hear the machines beep.

"You're a selfish son of a bitch, you know that?" Neal flinched at the voice coming from behind him and turned around. He froze as he came face to face with himself, only that version of himself had a hole in his chest and was covered in blood.

"P..Peter?" He tried again, unable to take his eyes off himself.

"Look what you did! And for what? Elizabeth? Peter? No! You did it for you!" His bloodied self took a step forward, their noses almost touching. "Look what you've done."

"Peter!" Neal yelled again, this time turning around to look at the agent who sat completely unaware of his presence. He turned back afraid of what he'd find, but was met with just the sight of the hospital room.

He walked around to where Peter sat and stood next to him. He reached out to shake him, but stopped halfway when he saw the glare of the overhead light caught in the water lining the older man's eyes.

"Peter."

Suddenly, the agent stood up, wiping a hand down his face before leaning over the bed. He grabbed the patient's hand and finally spoke.

"You once told me that family are the ones that are there when you need them. If you really believe that...don't leave. Okay, Neal?"

Neal tilted his head to the side and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not-" he started to say, until Peter let go of the man's hand and backed away from the bed. For the first time Neal could see the patient and as the man's face became clear, Neal, once again, was staring at himself.

He stood frozen, staring at his prone figure, in fear. He didn't know what was happening, where he was. Nothing. The sound of the door opening had him turning around. Peter had stopped in the doorway, looking back at the hospital bed. He knew the agent couldn't hear him, but it didn't stop him from saying, "I don't want to leave, Peter, but I don't know how to stay."

AN: I know some of you wanted to see Peter coming to the rescue, but I promise it's coming in later chapters if you decide to stick around. Thanks for reading! Feel free to share your thoughts.