Morgan Flannery was every bit as intimidating as her reputation suggested, Reynolds decided, in a quiet, pleasant, terrifying way. Her voice carried a hint of an Irish accent… passed to her from her father. Her long red, gold hair sprinkled with platinum, swept back in a loose braid and the small lines on her face paired with her thin agile body gave her the appearance of a youthful grandmother… her eyes though… Reynolds had to suppress a shiver when he met those eyes, sparkling cold and hard as emeralds beneath long red lashes.
She smiled calmly at him as he stepped into her home…as if she knew with certainty that he was no threat to her. That he was powerless to bring her down. He refused to admit that her apparently civil smile frightened him. He glanced at Burke and wondered if she intimidated him at all… if she did it didn't show in his impassive face. The only expression Reynolds could detect was just a hint of the man's anger lingering in those steady brown eyes as he glance around the room.
Her study was lavishly decorated with rare objects… Gaelic in origins mostly. The woman was clearly proud of her heritage. She waved them to chairs, her smile never wavering
"I'm not sure what assistance I can be to the FBI, but I am more than willing to help if I can."
"What exactly is your relationship with Henry Wilson?"
"Oh…" her smile widened almost playfully "Henry was a friend once… but we had falling out… several years ago. He really has quite a temper… I honestly couldn't tell you what he's been up to lately."
"Really?" Reynolds eyed her sharply "because he said you were involved in some of his recent activities"
"I haven't even seen him in 6 or 7 months… nor do I expect to see him again…" her voice didn't change pitch at all. The conversation was going nowhere.
"What about Tomas Martinez….another old friend?"
"Never met him actually." She leaned back in her chair "He has quite the unsavory reputation… are you insinuating that a lady such as myself would associate such a man.?" She raised an eyebrow archly
"Not at all" Burke returned her cold smile "what can you tell us about him?"
Ten minutes later they left her home with little more information than they had before… Frustration oozed from Burke… he looked at Reynolds
"Now that woman… she is dangerous"
"And we have nothing on her… except a hired killer's word that she's in on this." he sighed scrubbing his face "and she knows it."
"We're going to get her." The steel in his voice was sharp edged.
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Peter was tired…beyond tired… bone crushingly, mind numbingly exhausted. A week of spending his days working the case with Reynolds and his nights dozing in a chair in this room was wearing him down. He couldn't keep this up much longer… he knew that, something had to give… soon. He walked quietly to the window… 3 days since Dr. Cole looked at him wearily, coming out of the operating room, 14 long hours after they took Neal away … his cheeks flushed with fever against grey white skin… lips blue even with the machine breathing for him… the matronly doctor had made no secret of her opinion that, Peter had sentenced his friend to death with his decision… "This is too much" she argued… " he's hanging by a thread as it is… and you are asking me to put him through 10 hours of surgery that might not even take care of the infection" Peter held his breath as she approached…
"He's out of surgery" there was a hint of disbelief in her tone. "He made it through…barely… he is a heck of a fighter, I'll give him that. I don't know if we did him any favors saving that leg… it's a mess… one of the worst breaks Dr. Humphrey has ever tried to repair … if he makes it, he's looking at 3 or 4 more surgeries to even hope to ever walk on it… and that's not even touching the hip… it may still be better to take it…"
Three days since they brought him back to this room with cold metal rods running down each side of his leg from hip to ankle, bolted into the bone. The long, ugly incision between them stapled closed under rubberized pressure bandages… The leg was noticeably thinner now and Peter wondered if there was any muscle left in the younger man's thigh… He was allowed to watch quietly, out of the way, as the nurses and orderlies positioned Neal carefully, elevating the leg… placing a pillow under his splinted arm… arranging catheters, drainage tubes and all 4 IV lines appropriately…They reconnected the ventilator to the machine, removing the manual bag, adjusting the settings, smoothing the tape on his face that held the tubing in place. They filed away without a word to Peter…
Neal hadn't stirred through the whole process…nor in the 3 long days since, not a twitch… not a sound… not an eye lid flutter that his friend had noticed. He was in there, the older man knew it. He had been awake before the surgery, the doctor wasn't sure she believed that, but Peter knew… he could still feel the desperate tapping of Neal's fingers against the back of his hand.
"N-O… P-L-E-A-S-E…L-E-G" his barely focused blue eyes pleading for someone to hear him… to understand. Peter understood and passed the message on…even though he wasn't sure how much of the situation the semi-conscious man understood… now he wasn't sure he made the right choice. It seemed Dr. Cole was right. The kid hadn't been up to the long complex operation after all… what if he never woke up again because of that decision. He would have been devastated to wake up and find out they took his leg but… wouldn't that have been better than…
That was a pointless train of thought and he knew it… what was done was done. There was no going back. Peter wished Elle was here…how he wished she was here… it would be so much easier … but she was safer where she was… he reminded himself, that's why he hadn't told her the real extent of their friend's wounds... he couldn't keep the worry out of his voice when he called and lying to his wife wasn't something he did… so he told her Neal was hurt, but he didn't tell her how bad it was…h*** he couldn't even process the devastating list of injuries… if he had told her even half of it she would have been here within hours… and she couldn't be here in the middle of this… whatever this was.
He sank back in the chair… quietly taking his friend's right hand, studying the icy fingers…thinking of the times he had seen them working dexterously… on a painting, a lock, a computer, flipping that stupid hat…he had to believe he would see them work again… dropping his head against the back of the chair he sighed hopelessly… he had to believe it, but he didn't… He closed his eyes… out of energy… he was tired… just so very tired…he drifted off to sleep.
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In the dark he couldn't move … but he had to find her! Had to keep her safe! He feverishly tried to search but his body wouldn't respond! Wouldn't move! He felt his arms around his chest … but they just lay there, folded oddly…the cold seeping into his skin…His eyes were open but he couldn't see… Neal screamed her name but there was no sound...! His voice made no sound in the dark! He couldn't scream because he couldn't breathe. Hysterically he struggled to force air into motionless lungs… he had to call her, had to find her! He was supposed to protect her… he promised… he promised he would keep her safe! She was in his arms and now she was gone! He wanted to sob… he wanted to get up to search for her… but his body lay there in the cold and the dark and wouldn't move … wouldn't breathe… wouldn't live! Dead!
"I can't be dead…!"He thought. "I have to find her…please I can die after she's safe… "Please, Please, Please… just breath!" he begged his empty lungs… he pleaded with his heart to beat… with his eyes to see…with his body to move… just this one last time! Nothing happened. "Please!" he pleaded with the heavens… "Just let me have one more minute!" The darkness didn't lighten… his chest remained stubbornly silent, lungs still, heart frozen… his arms limp… useless… his legs unmoving … unresponsive… "I have to save her…I promised" his thoughts were fading now… drifting away from that forgotten shattered thing lying alone in the shadows … and the little girl that needed him… the pain was far away now… lingering in the last traces of his mind…Dead…
The dream faded… the darkness lingered … Neal accepted the reprieve… the calm that came with this peaceful place… he could stay here forever in this quiet darkness… no, not quiet, the realization came gradually… not unpleasantly… sounds filtered through the haze… sounds that sparked his curiosity… a soft whooshing… a mechanical click…a faint buzzing… there was pain here too… a dull ache that permeated his whole body… he tried to shift to a more comfortable position…that's when he realized… he really couldn't move… just like the nightmare his limbs remained immobile… drooping listlessly from slack joints… maybe he really was dead…He needed to see…
He was surprised actually, pleasantly, at how easily his eyes opened… though the view was uninspiring… an ordinary ceiling … which meant he was flat on his back… something caught the edge of his vision…but it was too close to focus on. He allowed his head to fall to the side… that something he couldn't quite see kept his weak neck from dropping his cheek all the way to the pillow… strange… that same something filled his mouth… his throat… holding his breath hostage… that thought should have been frightening, he thought, but he felt disconnected… like a ghost in his own lifeless body.
His eyes focused on something of interest… a figure sleeping in a chair… a man… he knew that man… knew when those eyes opened they would be brown… the expression in them would be worried and frustrated... knew with certainty how the frown would look. This man was his friend… his best friend… almost a father. He trusted this figure… with his life… but he didn't recall a name associated with this man he blinked, wondering vaguely how it was possible not to remember your best friend's name… wondering even more why it didn't disturb him like he thought it should…something's wrong with me…broken…or… drugs… that thought was bizarrely comforting… "Since when is being drugged comforting?" a voice in his head asked… the same voice that wondered why he wasn't worried about his breath coming and going without his control or consent… about the something that filled his throat…about the pain that hovered just beyond his focus…
He tried to speak… but that something in his mouth reminded him that it was there… only allowing a small muffled sound to escape… he frowned…tried to turn his head to see what that something was… turning his head back up was harder though… he didn't seem to have the energy… the pain was more noticeable now… it seemed to nibble at his strength… suddenly the thought of closing his eyes and drifting away again didn't sound so bad… it would have been nice to talk to his friend …
A faint noise caught his ear… a click… the hint of a squeak… he struggled once again to turn his head… succeeding only in moving his eyes … the ceiling again…
A small woman he didn't know moved into his vision… dark hair in a ponytail… dark, slightly exotic eyes… smooth tan skin… a few tiny freckles across her nose… he would have given her his best smile… if he wasn't dead…she started slightly when she looked into his eyes… he watched intrigued as she collected herself. Smoothing her rumpled features into a kind smile
"Good morning Mr. Collins." She spoke softly as if she might frighten him "how are you feeling?" She took his hand in hers… "Can you squeeze my fingers, Mr. Collins…" of course he couldn't, Neal thought… "I'm dead" he tried to tell her…the dream flickered through his mind …that broken lifeless body in the dark… but…she was kind and she seemed to want him to try…so he tried. His fingers moved… just slightly around something hard in his palm…not dead then… the lady seemed very pleased…her name tag said Madison "Good job Mr. Collins… Nick… do you mind if I call you Nick? Very good." She gently grasped his jaw… turning his face upward again… the ceiling…"I'm going to shine a light in your eyes…just relax…" the light was bright… painful…" she stroked his hair when he squeezed the lids shut… "Easy… I know that's not pleasant… I just need a better look at those beautiful eyes." She patted his shoulder very softly… something tightened on his arm with a hum…her hand held his head steady as she swiped something across his brow… never breaking eye contact she smoothed his hair while she pressed something cold to his ribs…listened…moving the chilled circle again …again… nodded… another smile…"You are doing very well, Nick, almost done" she sounded like she was talking to a child…
"Would you like me to wake your friend Peter?" He did want that… he was startled to realize that he wanted that very much. Did he nod? He wasn't sure… The lady… nurse… Madison released his face and stepped away… his head sagged to the side again…the other side this time…he smiled a little… he wanted to look this way before…well, that explained the sounds that he heard … he watched the plastic accordion slide up and down in its clear cylinder… then flicked his eyes to the tubing that writhed away from the thing… toward his body… his face… that thing in his mouth… something shifted…more of the room slid into view… he wasn't quite lying down anymore…Neal saw a window…another chair…tubes in his arm…wires… sunlight frolicking on the floor… he stared at that… beautiful…his heavy head lolling down against his shoulder…light and shadow chased each other across cold tile…fascinating… hypnotizing him… pulling him away… drugs… definitely drugs, he decided… or I'm dying…dying… that was an interesting possibility too… he was tired.
He heard Madison's voice talking to his friend… she said the man's name was Peter… that sounded right somehow… it fit the man… The man's voice …he must have nodded. …
"NEAL!" the voice was desperate… disbelieving… he stepped into Neal's line of vision …strong fingers grasping his hand… supporting his sinking shoulders… lifting his head… he focused on worried brown eyes, it was exactly the look he imagined. He smiled around the tube in his mouth… his friend's hands coaxed him to stay… touching his hair, his face… brushing across his own wet cheeks… tears? His friend didn't cry… didn't like crying… couldn't handle crying…"Don't cry…" Neal thought… he wanted to say it… but that thing… "A ventilator" that annoying voice in his head finally supplied… wouldn't let him…probably am dying… a phone… if he had a phone he could tell him it was ok… he focused on making his fingers move again… again… P-H-O-N-E…his lips formed the word soundlessly… his friend, Peter, he reminded himself, would understand… he always understood… but he looked confused. He frowned…staring at the moving hand… then at Neal's face…finally he held his phone in front of Neal questioningly… "Nod" he commanded his head…Peter carefully placed the device in his left hand… it was awkward… something hard kept the fingers away from his thumb… A cast…? No… that wasn't quite right… It was hard to see the screen… the angle was awkward…his elbow wouldn't bend. He fumbled to turn the screen to his friend…he almost dropped it…callused hands took it from clumsy fingers… Peter laughed… "That's better" …his eyes closed without permission… but he didn't mind… he was drifting in that peaceful darkness again…he could rest here and he was so very tired…
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There was a hand on his arm… he jumped awake. "Peter?" the young nurse smiled at him…
"What's wrong?" fear edged his voice.
"Nothing… I have some good news for you."
"Good news?" his sleep fogged mind struggled with that concept… nurses didn't give him good news…
"He's waking up…" Peter started out of his chair in less than a heartbeat… Madison grasped his arm
"Just a moment…" he looked at her "you need to understand he's still very weak…and he can't communicate much…I'm not sure how much he comprehends…he is responsive but don't expect too much just yet" Peter thought he nodded, as he pulled away from her and stepped to the bed, taking his friend's right hand… it remained limp… nerve damage, he reminded himself... that's all it is…but Neal didn't look at him… his eyes were open… peering blankly at the floor on the other side of the bed, he made no effort to look at Peter. He slumped loosely in the bed, his head drooping lethargically against his shoulder. Fear gripped his heart…Dr. Cole was concerned about brain damage… he wanted to shake his friend … scream at him to snap out of this…
"NEAL!" he pleaded softly…urgently. With a glance at Madison for permission, he carefully straightened the sagging shoulders against the pillow… lifted the younger man's head… turning those blue eyes toward himself… a spark ignited in that nearly vacant stare…recognition? "Please let him know me…" A blink… another… the gaze focused…Neal smiled…a tiny… fragile smile, awkward around the vent…but the relief was incredible... he brushed tears from his cheeks shamelessly… he couldn't seem to stop them. His friend knew him…he was crying …
Neal's fingers moved on the blanket, his lips trying to form the word as well... It took a moment for Peter to catch the message. Phone… Phone? He pulled his out and held it in front of the younger man's eyes… a miniscule nod. He placed the device in Neal's left hand… positioning it cautiously. Peter watched the clumsy fingers carefully type… the phone nearly slid from his grasp when he tried to give it back… He took the phone gently…
Cowboy up, Butch
Peter laughed out loud. Neal was still in there… and he was sleeping again, his face relaxed and peaceful, a smile twitching on his lips.