Let Your Heart Hold Fast

Chapter 41

Peter opened his eyes and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. The lights were too bright and there were strange beeping and buzzing noises surrounding him, causing his head to pound with the echo. He felt as if he were still asleep, as if he was in the middle of a confusing nightmare, and he couldn't help the panic that was stirring in him as he tried unsuccessfully to move any part of his body. What was going on? Where was he?

Before he could wrap his mind around anything, he heard a sound that brought some things back into perspective for him. The sound of Elizabeth's voice filled his head, drawing him completely to the surface, and enveloped him in a sense of security and belonging. Her voice gave him the strength he needed to break through the confusion and pain, to break through to the surface, to bring him back to where he desperately wanted to be.

"El?" he croaked, his voice weak from lack of use.

"Peter!" El cried, as she rushed to his bed. "Peter! You're awake!"

Elizabeth gently kissed her husband's face as relief shot through her. She had been so worried when he didn't wake up when the doctor expected him to. Peter was one of the strongest men she had ever known, but he was human, he did have a breaking point, and she was terrified that this event had been his breaking point. To see him now, weakly looking up at her with every ounce of his strength, was the most amazing sight to her.

Elizabeth hit the call button and informed the nurses that her husband was awake. Minutes later, the doctor arrived, eager to check Peter out. After a thorough neurological assessment, where he proclaimed the patient to be neurologically intact, the doctor left Peter and Elizabeth alone to talk.

"El, what happened? How long have I been here?"

"It's been almost a week, hon. We've been so worried about you."

"How's Neal? Where is he?"

"He's fine, Peter. He's with your parents right now, probably talking their ears off." Elizabeth tried to make it sound like everything was okay, but the truth of the matter was that she was worried about Neal. The little boy hadn't been acting quite right since the events of the party, and truthfully, she had been too worried about Peter to do much about it. Thinking back on the week, she suddenly felt horrible for paying so little attention to Neal.

"Was anyone else hurt? What about Thomas? Is he in custody?"

"No one else was hurt, hon. And Thomas won't be hurting anyone else ever again. After he attacked you, Clinton, Diana, and that other agent tried to get him to surrender, but he wouldn't. He stepped toward the kids with the knife raised and Diana took him down. He's dead, Peter."

Peter couldn't help the feeling of relief that surged through him. As much as he hated to hear that Diana had to use her weapon in front of Neal and the other kids, he was relieved to know that Patrick Thomas wouldn't ever be a threat to anyone else.

Elizabeth could tell that Peter was quickly tiring, so she sat next to his bed and tried to get him to rest. He still had questions about everything, but eventually he gave in and closed his eyes. Right before he fell asleep, he felt Elizabeth squeeze his hand and gently whisper in his ear.

"I love you, Peter Burke."

Neal was overly exhausted and crankier than he had ever been in his short little life. Everyone around him knew that it was because of his worry for Peter and the fact that his whole life had been completely turned upside down and they were all doing their best to help him through it all. They tried everything they could think of to keep the boy occupied, but Neal only wanted to stay at the hospital.

He hadn't been allowed to see Peter yet, and that only served to convince him that something awful had happened. He couldn't sleep, he wasn't hungry, and his head was always hurting. Both sets of his grandparents were exhausted, as well, their concern for Peter overwhelming everything else.

It was Mozzie that was finally able to get through to Neal. Neal had become even more withdrawn, barely speaking to anyone, and Mozzie was surprised to see how worn the little boy looked. As he sat down next to Neal, he studied the little face before him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the tear tracks on his cheeks. He suddenly realized that he wanted nothing more than to see Neal's bright smile again, and he decided right then and there to do whatever he could to put the smile back on his face.

"Mon frère, what do you say we take a stroll through the hallways of this esteemed, germ-filled institution?"

Neal looked at him curiously, not really understanding what he had said.

"Let's take a walk," Mozzie clarified.

After clearing it with Richard and Nancy, Mozzie led Neal down the hall. Neal held onto Mozzie's hand as they walked slowly down a long hallway. Eventually, they found their way into the cafeteria and Mozzie was able to talk Neal into picking out a few cookies. Grabbing some milk to go with the cookies, Mozzie led Neal over to a table, making sure to sanitize the table and chairs with a sanitized wipe before sitting down.

Neal picked at his cookie and sipped his milk, but he mostly just stared at the table. Mozzie figured that it was time to do something to break Neal out of his state of apathy.

"Neal, you know that the Suit is going to be okay, right? He's getting better every day, so it's just a matter of time until he's back to his controlling, irritating self."

When Neal didn't answer, Mozzie tried again. "Mon frère, I know you're worried, but have I ever lied to you?"

"You're lying right now, Mozzie," Neal said in a small voice. "Daddy isn't getting better, because if he was, he would want to see me. I think my Daddy's dying."

Mozzie couldn't believe Neal's words. They all knew that he was worried about Peter, but none of them had suspected his fear to be so deep. "Neal, I promise, I'm not lying to you. Peter is getting better."

Neal looked at Mozzie suspiciously. "You promise, Mozzie? You don't make promises, remember? You said that people like us are too smart to make promises."

"Well, I think I'm allowed to change my mind, Neal. In certain situations, promises are perfectly appropriate."

Neal continued to look at Mozzie, causing the man to squirm a little. How was it that such a little boy could look right through to your soul?!

"I wanna see him," Neal said suddenly. "Will you take me to see him, Mozzie?"

"Neal…he's in the ICU. They won't let you in there, mon frère."

"Mozzie, you can do it. I know you can. You're Mozzie."

Mozzie looked at the hope that had blossomed in Neal's blue eyes and knew that he didn't have a choice. The kid had experienced so much fear and disappointment in the last week, and Mozzie wasn't about to add to it.

"Okay, kid…..Let's see what we can do."

As they left the cafeteria, Mozzie couldn't help but feel a little proud at the sight of the new pep in Neal's step. He also couldn't help but feel a little scared at the thought that there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for Neal.

Elizabeth had stepped out to the waiting room to talk with Richard and Nancy Burke, anxious to let them know that Peter had woken up. She couldn't help the spark of panic when she realized that Neal wasn't there, but they quickly explained to her that Neal and Mozzie had gone for a walk. The three of them finally decided that they would walk down to the cafeteria, hoping to catch up with Neal and deliver the good news.

Neal and Mozzie, however, were already making their way back to the ICU after making a few pit stops along the way. By the time they arrived at the ICU entrance, Mozzie had picked up a Housekeeping cart and a jacket and hospital ID card that he had found in the staff break room.

Without hesitation, he used the ID badge to open the ICU doors and pushed his cart into the unit. Unbeknownst to the busy staff, his cart was void of the usual cleaning supplies. Instead, it was transporting a very excited five year old little boy, who was anxious to finally see his daddy.

Mozzie moved the cart through the unit, making his way to Peter's room, without drawing any undue attention. The nurses were all busy and the whole unit was buzzing with activity, making it easy for them to get where they needed to go.

Once they found the room, Mozzie parked the cart directly outside and made himself look busy as Neal climbed out of the cart. No one was paying attention to the short little man and within seconds Neal was in the room. Mozzie pushed his cart off to the side and then joined his young friend.

Neal had made his way to the bed and was standing on his tip-toes to look at Peter. Mozzie was surprised to see how pale and fragile the normally vibrant man looked, but he was pleased to see that he looked to be resting comfortably. Neal, on the other hand, looked at Peter with shock.

"What's wrong with him, Mozzie?" he asked fearfully. "Is he dead?"

Mozzie could tell that Neal was on the verge of a full-fledged panic. "He's just resting, mon frère. I know he looks bad, but he's okay."

"Promise, Mozzie?"

"I promise, Neal."

Mozzie watched as Neal climbed up in the chair next to Peter and before Mozzie could stop him, he had climbed onto the bed. Neal placed his hands on both sides of Peter's face, staring closely at the man.

"Daddy?" he whispered. "Can you hear me?" It's me, Neal."

When Peter didn't respond, Neal looked frantically at Mozzie. "Mozzie! I don't think he remembers me!"

"Nonsense, Neal. He's just sleeping."

"But he always wakes up when I need him, Mozzie."

"He's just tired, Neal. When he wakes up, you'll see."

"But, what if he doesn't remember me, Mozzie," Neal whispered. "What if he forgets me?"

Before Mozzie could come up with another answer, a gravelly voice filled the room. It took Mozzie and Neal a few long seconds to realize that the voice was coming from the man in the bed.

"Neal?"

"Daddy!" Neal shrieked loudly. "Daddy, you remember me!

"How could I ever forget those knobby knees that are digging into me?" he asked. "I wake up to them poking me in the back nearly every morning, remember?"

Without another word, Neal collapsed onto Peter's chest, great big sobs wracking his little body. With what little strength he could muster, and fighting through the pain he was feeling, Peter clutched the boy firmly to him.

"It's okay, little man. I'm right here. Everything's okay."

Author's note: I'm sorry this chapter is so late and so short. I had to have surgery on my elbow, so my typing ability has been hindered. Not to mention the fact that I've been in a drug induced haze for the last week. That being said, please forgive any grammar errors, spelling errors, or typos.

I think I should have this story wrapped up in the next chapter or two, so if I've left any plot holes unattended, please let me know. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, and thanks for your patience. I hope you enjoy the chapter and I can't wait to hear your thoughts.