It was just one gasping, choking breath, but it changed everything, turned a corpse back into man, changed grief to hope and fear, gut wrenching, heart clawing fear. Peter looked up at Jones questioningly
"Did you hear that?" the younger man didn't answer, instead moving swiftly past his superior and dropping back to his knees. Peter noticed the slight tremor in the man's hand as it reached out, finger tips pressing to the pale throat, the deep sigh that shuddered through him. Peter held his breath as Jones looked up and met his gaze with utterly disbelieving eyes
"Pulse is there…"he gulped "Lay him down… we need to open his airway…" Jones choked out…pulling the young man away from his friend and positioning him gently on the floor… "Boss hold his head" Peter nodded placing his hands on the pale cheeks, he tilted the kid's head back, supporting the slack jaw. He reminded himself to breathe normally, waiting nervously as Jones leaned over Neal… "He's breathing now, but d** it's shallow" rising quickly Jones glanced at his phone "S*** no signal down here. I'll be right back, boss… I have to call for help…" Peter nodded again, almost afraid to speak, terrified his voice would destroy the fragile illusion his friend was alive. Then they were alone. Peter could just see the miniscule rise and fall of the shattered chest…
"Just hang on…ok… just stay with me" he whispered…Peter's eyes strayed to the awkwardly folded limbs… the livid bruises… he swallowed his horror "I can't imagine how much you're hurting right now, but I know you're strong, stronger than most people realize…please hold on."
Neal choked, his feeble breathing catching in his chest, his broken body convulsing with a desperate effort to pull in oxygen. Trying not to think of spinal injuries and internal damage, Peter turned him on his side. He closed his eyes as the blood gushed between colorless lips, attempting to find comfort in the wet wheezing breaths that shuddered through the younger man. He didn't notice the tiny shift of the dark head… the delicate flicker of eyelashes before one blue eye cracked open. The first hint of life he perceived was a slender hand, brushing clumsily against his knee. Stilling that hand in his own, Peter forced himself to look at his friend's ruined face.
"Neal? You with me?" he didn't expect a response. The kid couldn't really be awake, but he was just so grateful for any level of awareness. He felt the tiny nod under his left hand rather than saw it. "Good… don't try to move… just hang in there…" he looked into his friend's eye… "Do you understand…?" he had no idea what the damaged man could comprehend. He doubted it was much, but he was Neal.
"Y-yes" there really wasn't a sound, just a soft rustle of breath as his lips formed the word…more blood trickled out…
"Don't try to talk… rest… you're safe."
"G-good" Neal's face crumpled with pain… he seemed to be trying to think of something
"It's ok. Whatever it is… you can tell me later, when you feel better." The dark head under his hand twisted side to side slightly "You're going to be alright, Neal." He tried to smile at the young man, but his face wouldn't go along with the reassuring lie. He watched the slit of blue vanish for a long moment. Neal pulled it open once more, with tremendous effort, panic flaring in his expression.
"N-n-nate?" the fear and hope in that one word…
"He's safe Neal. He found me. Diana took him to get checked out, but he's fine" a flicker of a smile darted over pale grey lips, before his eye slid closed and his trembling body relaxed…
'Neal?" no response, Peter sighed, what did he expect? Even that brief moment of consciousness seemed miraculous if he really considered the younger man's condition. He waited, feeling the struggling breath under his hands… praying it would continue.
It stopped.
)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(
The little boy sat on the exam table waiting for a doctor, his bare feet kicked rhythmically, knocking lightly against the side of the table. His small fingers fidgeted on his knees. His huge blue eyes darted around the cubical as if trying to look at everything at once.
Diana tentatively lay a hand on his dark head
"How you doing buddy?" she asked as she tucked the blanket back up around his small shoulders. He shivered, his expression turning sad.
"I'm…I'm ok" he swallowed hard "Is my mama coming soon?" Diana tried to cover the sigh, here in this moment she almost wished the couple pulled it off…
"I'm sorry Nathen she can't come here, but I'm going to take you to see her and your dad as soon as the doctor says you can leave, ok?" the child nodded.
"Ok…I'm not scared…" he sounded terrified.
"It's ok to be scared…" Diana stroked his hair softly.
"I'm a big boy… I'm seven… almost eight."
"I know you are and you have been really brave," she gently turned his face toward her "but everyone gets scared some times."
"Everyone?" he studied her with a gaze too intense for a child "Even you?"
"Yes, Nathen even me…" the agent looked away, hiding the fear she couldn't suppress, wondering how the team's rescue was going. Nathen was quiet then… for a long time.
"Diana" Nathen's voice was tiny "It was dark. It was always dark. I don't like the dark." Tears slipped out then. She wrapped her arms around him while the boy sobbed, stroking his hair and murmuring soothingly.
)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(
Jones guided the paramedics down into the dank basement dreading what he might find. He almost held his breath as he opened the door, bringing the large empty room into view. Several of the other agents had returned to the room, they clustered around the two men on the floor. Peter still knelt beside Neal. The injured man lay on his side now covered by several coats. A heavy foreboding silence hung over the room. Jones swallowed harshly as he hurried forward, trying to catch a glimpse of his boss's face, praying there was still hope in his eyes.
The paramedics pulled the coats aside. Jones saw their bodies go rigid with shock as the clump of agents fell back. He heard one of the men mutter something that sounded disturbingly like "nothing we can do" and "lost cause" even as his hands moved to search for vitals.
"I have a pulse." The man almost sounded surprised
"Respiration is 30… shallow and labored… decreased breath sounds on the left"
"Left pupil is sluggish" their hands moved like lightening over the still, flaccid body. Jones flinched as they turned the young man onto his back. The agonized groan and feeble movement of his arms to ward off the pain was the most heartbreakingly beautiful thing he had ever seen. He helped them lift him, giving his friend's hand a soft squeeze before they started to move him. He thought he felt a tiny grip in return, but he wasn't certain. He turned his eyes to his boss…
"You ok, Peter?" the older man nodded… "Come on, I think the team has the scene covered and forensics will be here soon… I'll drive." He didn't need to say where they were going. Another wordless nod.
They were in the car when Peter finally looked up
"He woke up for a few seconds"
"That's a good sign"
"Then he stopped breathing again." Peter sighed. "D*** IT! Why does he always have to do something stupid…? If he had just told us he had a lead on the boy…We could have..."