Let Your Heart Hold Fast

Chapter 21

The next several days were miserable for everyone in the Burke household. By the second day of sickness, Neal was feeling somewhat better, but Elizabeth was down for the count. She spent the first day taking care of Neal after Peter got called in to the office, but the next morning she was too weak to get out of bed. To Peter's utter disbelief, it was his responsibility to look after a sick five year old. He thought he'd much rather be working on a pile of mortgage fraud cases or sitting in the surveillance van with Agent Humphries, who was notorious for kicking his shoes off in the van and putting his smelly feet up on the heater. Anything had to be better than taking care of a sick kid.

After making sure that Elizabeth was still sleeping, Peter went into Neal's room to find the little guy just waking up. He could tell the minute he walked through the door that Neal's nose was still stuffed up and his chest congested.

Neal opened his eyes to find Peter looking down at him. "Hey, bud…How are you feeling this morning?"

Neal rubbed his eyes with both of his fists and tried to take a deep breath. "I can't breathe good, Peter. My nose is full."

"I know, bud, but you'll feel better after I get some medicine in you, I'm sure. How about we go downstairs and you can watch cartoons while I fix us something to eat?"

Peter stood up and waited for Neal to climb out of bed, but Neal looked at Peter tiredly before holding up his hands to be picked up. "What's the matter with your legs, Neal? Did you forget how to walk?" Peter teased.

"I don't feel like walking. My legs feel all jiggly, Peter."

Peter picked Neal up and hoisted him onto his back. Taking him downstairs, he deposited Neal on the sofa and grabbed a blanket to drape over him.

"Not that blanket, Peter," Neal whined. "It's too scratchy. Lizbef always gives me the soft blue one."

Peter looked around for the blue blanket, but didn't see it anywhere. "Do you know where it is?" he asked.

Neal nodded. "It's on my bed."

Peter told Neal he would get the blanket, before quickly going upstairs again. He grabbed the blue blanket off the end of Neal's bed and took it back downstairs, hoping the kid would be satisfied so he could make himself some coffee. Once he laid the soft blue blanket over Neal, he turned to go into the kitchen, but was stopped by a weird sound coming from Neal. Turning back to him, he noticed that the kid had a sad look on his face.

"What's wrong now, Neal?" he asked.

Neal sneezed loudly and then looked glumly at Peter. "I forgot Charlie. Lizbef bought him for me yesterday when she bought my medicine. She said he would make me feel better and I want him, Peter."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Let me guess…He's upstairs, right?"

Neal just nodded as he sneezed again. "He's on my bed."

Without a word, Peter trudged back upstairs, wondering if he was ever going to get his coffee. Once back in Neal's bedroom, he grabbed a stuffed animal that looked like an aardvark or something. A minute later he handed it to Neal. "Here you go, Neal."

Neal giggled. "That's not Charlie, Peter…..that's Artie. He doesn't make me feel better like Charlie, but I still like him." Neal cuddled Artie to his chest. "But, I really want Charlie, okay? Please?"

For the third time, Peter trudged back up the stairs, this time looking for Charlie the Chimpanzee. He looked all over Neal's room, wondering when the kid had gotten so many toys. When he couldn't find the chimpanzee anywhere, he dropped down to his knees and looked under Neal's bed. He finally found the stuffed chimpanzee crammed between the headboard and the mattress. As Peter tried to dislodge the stuffed animal, he pulled a little too hard and he heard a ripping noise. Oh, great…Just what I needed.

Pulling it all the way out, Peter inspected the stuffed animal, finding that one of its arms had ripped open. It wasn't that big of a rip and Peter figured that Elizabeth wouldn't have any problem fixing it once she felt better. He just hoped that Neal didn't freak out when he saw it.

Taking the chimpanzee down to Neal, he quickly handed it to the boy before heading into the kitchen. He was almost ready to grind the coffee beans when he heard a scream that sounded like a banshee screeching. Running out into the living room, he came face to face with Neal, who had just discovered the rip on Charlie the Chimpanzee's arm.

"Peter, help! All of his stuffing is gonna fall out. You have to fix him!" Neal, who had been yelling at the top of his lungs, started coughing incessantly.

"Hey, bud….you need to calm down, okay? Don't get yourself all worked up. It's only a little rip."

"No, it's not! It's huge, Peter. His insides are falling out, see?" Neal held up a small handful of cotton. "You have to fix him."

With that, Neal burst into tears. His sobs were punctuated by harsh, body jarring coughs and once again, Peter wished that he was sitting in the surveillance van with Agent Humphries and his smelly feet.

Peter Burke prided himself on being the type of man that could handle anything thrown at him, but apparently anything didn't include a stuffed chimpanzee named Charlie with a ripped arm. Tired of trying to convince Neal that Elizabeth would fix Charlie as soon as she felt better, Peter decided to tackle the task himself.

After fifteen minutes of trying to thread the thread through the eye of the needle and at least ten pokes to his finger, he gave up. Of course, Neal was still really concerned that Charlie's stuffing would leak completely out of him, so Peter needed to think outside of the box. Going back upstairs for the fourth time, he grabbed the first aid kit out of the bathroom closet and took it back downstairs. Kneeling down in front of Neal, he pulled out a roll of gauze and somewhat haphazardly wrapped Charlie's arm up.

"There you go, buddy. Now his stuffing won't fall out and we can wait for Elizabeth to fix him," Peter said, obviously proud of his ingenuity.

"Lizbef always kisses my owies, Peter, so you have to kiss Charlie's."

Peter started to argue, but just the sight of Neal's blue eyes looking at him so expectantly stopped him. He looked quickly around, as if some of his agents might be hiding out in his living room, and then bent down and kissed the stuffed chimpanzee right on the arm.

"Thank you, Peter," Neal said, adoringly. "Charlie feels all better now, even though you're not a mommy."

Neal's words caused Peter to hesitate. That he equated Elizabeth's kisses to his injuries as something a mother would do opened his eyes to the realization that Neal was truly starting to see them as his parents. Peter's heart soared at that and he was suddenly glad that he wasn't sitting in that surveillance van or that he wasn't at his desk working on a pile of mortgage fraud cases. No, he was right where he wanted to be.

The rest of the day was filled with a cranky Neal and an even crankier Peter. At one point, when Peter was trying to get Neal to take his medicine, the bottle tipped over, spilling all over the coffer table and the rug. Peter tried his best to clean it up, but there was still a shadow of a stain on the rug. Elizabeth would not be happy.

Now faced with the problem of not having any medication for the sick boy, Peter had to run to the store. Fortunately, Neal had fallen asleep on the sofa, so Peter picked him up and carried him upstairs, laying him in bed next to his wife. Gently waking her up, he told her what had happened and asked if she needed anything. Minutes later, he was on his way to the store, happy to finally be breathing some fresh air.

Once at the store, he searched for several minutes for the right medication. He found the brand that Elizabeth bought, but felt that the price was ridiculous, so instead he opted for an off-brand bottle. After gathering a few more things that Elizabeth had asked for, he paid for his items and headed back home.

Neal was still sleeping, so Peter took the time to pick up a little before settling down to watch ESPN. He had just gotten into a game, when he heard the sound of little feet coming downstairs. Looking up, he smiled at the sight of Neal standing there in his pajamas, one pajama pant leg tucked into his socks, and his hair sticking out even more wildly than earlier. Neal walked over to Peter and climbed up next to him in the armchair. Peter was surprised at how hot Neal's body felt against him. The kid was definitely running a fever.

"How do you feel, Neal?" Peter asked.

"I don't feel good, Peter. My head hurts and my throat's all scratchy. Can I have a popsicle?"

"Sure thing, buddy, but let's get some medicine in you first, okay?"

Peter picked Neal up and took him into the kitchen, setting him down on the kitchen counter. He pulled out the medicine and measured out the right amount into the lid. "Here you go, buddy. This will make you feel better."

Neal eyed the medicine closely. "That's not the medicine Lizbef gives me," he said warily. "That's yucky medicine."

"Come on, Neal…..it's the same medicine, just a different flavor."

"I don't like that flavor, Peter," he whined again. "That's a yucky flavor. I want the other medicine."

By this time, Peter's patience was running thin. "We don't have any of the other medicine, Neal. It spilled all over the rug, remember? Now, come on, just take this medicine."

Neal clamped his mouth shut when Peter brought the medicine up to his lips. He tried to say something, but Peter couldn't understand him. Peter's frustration was growing at the whole scene. "That's enough, little man. Open up and take the medicine."

Neal firmly shook his head no, still clamping his mouth shut. He soon discovered a big problem though. With his mouth clamped shut and his nose stuffed up, he couldn't breathe. Finally, he had to open his mouth to take a breath and when he did, Peter dumped the medicine into his mouth. Obviously, Peter hadn't thought that through very well, because Neal, who was caught off guard by this, started coughing violently, which caused the medicine to be sprayed out all over Peter.

"Damn it!" Peter yelled, which only caused to make Neal cry. "I'm sorry, Neal. You just surprised me." Peter tried to calm the little boy down, who was still crying and coughing violently. He patted Neal gently on the back, feeling guilty. Eventually, Neal stopped coughing and Peter grabbed a paper towel to clean up his face.

"I'm sorry, Neal," he said again. "Listen, bud, I know you think this medicine is yucky and you don't want to take it, but I really need you to, okay? You don't feel good and it will make you feel better. You want to feel better, don't you?"

Neal finally agreed to take the medicine, but every time Peter brought it up to his lips, he clamped his mouth shut. Finally, Peter came up with a different solution. "How about if I put in a little bit of juice, buddy? Then will you take it?"

After Neal agreed to that, Peter poured a little bit of apple juice in a cup and dumped the medicine into it. "Okay, drink up, Neal," he encouraged. He was relieved when Neal upended the cup and drank all the juice. His only response was to screw up his face for a few seconds. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It was yucky, Peter." Neal shuddered at the thought of it. "Can I have a popsicle now? I want an orange one."

Peter rumbled through the freezer and finally found an orange popsicle. "Let's go have a seat, bud."

Taking Neal back into the living room, he put the kid down on the sofa, making sure that the blue blanket was wrapped around him and that Charlie the Chimpanzee was next to him. He also made sure to put a dish towel on Neal's chest, just in case his popsicle dripped. The boy finally looked content, so Peter flopped down into his favorite chair, completely exhausted.

Elizabeth was feeling better by that evening and actually ventured down to where the boys were still laying around. She sat down next to Neal, who curled up against her side. She was happy to see that he didn't feel unusually warm. "Hey, sweetie….how are you feeling?"

"I feel better, Lizbef, but I missed you. Peter gave me the wrong medicine and he couldn't fix Charlie's arm. Then he wouldn't let me watch cartoons. I don't think he likes them. He made me eat soup, too, and I didn't like it. It tasted funny."

"You gave him the wrong medicine?" she asked Peter, concern written all over her face.

Peter rolled his eyes and Neal's dramatic retelling of the day. "It was the right medicine, El, just not the right flavor."

"I thought you liked that cherry flavor, Neal," she said.

"That bottle spilled, El, remember? When I went to the store, I bought a different flavor and apparently he hates it. I got him to take it, though, by mixing it with a little juice."

"Well, that's good. Now what happened to Charlie?"

Elizabeth watched patiently as Neal showed her what had happened to Charlie's arm. "His stuffing was falling out everywhere, Lizbef. Peter tried to fix him, but he couldn't. You should have seen him try, though, Lizbef. His face turned really, really red and he kept poking himself with the needle."

Elizabeth laughed at that image. The man she married didn't handle failure well at all, so she knew that his ego had to have been bruised by not being able to fix Charlie's arm. "It looks like he did a good job of patching Charlie up, though, doesn't it? "she asked, as she methodically rewrapped the stuffed animal's arm. "He definitely gets points for that."

"Yeah, he saved him," Neal said with a smile. "Just like he saved me. That's what Peter is good at…..Saving things!"

"He sure is good at saving things!" Elizabeth answered. She glanced down at the stain on her rug, a frown covering her pale face. "Well….except rugs. He's not very good at that, it seems."

Elizabeth hadn't lasted downstairs for too long, so it was up to Peter to get Neal fed, bathed and put to bed. Dinner wasn't easy, since the boy really didn't have an appetite. Neal finally agreed to eat some oatmeal and bananas, and Peter was just happy to get something in him. Bath time was a little better, because Neal's achy body enjoyed the warm water. He played a little, but mostly he just laid back in the bubbled water and relaxed. By the time he was dressed for bed and all tucked in, Peter could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

Neal had reluctantly taken more medicine that evening, so he was breathing and feeling a little bit better. He let Peter pick out a book to read, and he lay back in his bed, listening to Peter's voice. Before Peter was halfway through the book, his voice had lulled Neal to sleep. Peter was relieved to see that the boy's breathing was unlabored and peaceful, and he hoped that they were over the worst part of this illness. Just as Peter was about to walk out the door, he heard Neal's hoarse voice.

"Goodnight, Peter. I love you."

"I love you, too, little man. Goodnight." Peter felt as if he were walking on air as he went to bed.

Author's note: Awwww…Poor Neal and Elizabeth are sick. And poor Peter seems like he's stepped a little out of his comfort zone, doesn't he? He did good, though, if you ask me. How adorable is sick Neal?! I just wanted to bundle him up and take care of himself. I always hated it when my kids were sick, but they were always little cuddlers, which I loved.

This chapter is a little shorter than normal, but I'm hoping to have one more chapter done before I leave for vacation. No promises, but I'm working on it. And, just so you know, the majority of reviewers for the last chapter told me they would rather not be left with a cliffhanger. Come on, y'all…..where's your sense of adventure? Lol.

Thanks for reading and reviewing. I sure do appreciate you all.