Gale Coleman straightened her shoulders, stepping out of the room. Mr. Dennison was awake… was going to make it to trial. He had murmured a complaint about the handcuffs hurting his arms. Part of her still felt bad about that, even though she knew he deserved it. She would asked the FBI agents if they could use medical grade restraints while he was under her care. It seemed like a reasonable compromise to her but she doubted they felt very reasonable right now. She wasn't sure she really blamed them…

She sighed as she headed for Kevin Grant's room. Just hours after her conversation with Agent Burke and Neal, Kevin's white cell count had climbed disturbingly and his temperature suddenly spiked, rising from 99.1 to 104.7 in less than an hour. Medication brought it back down to around 103 but with the infection that caused the fever still raging through his system, it had stubbornly refused to come down any lower. Things really didn't look good. His weakened organs struggled to keep functioning. The fact that he was still with them after three days spoke volumes about the man's strength.

The look of hope on his brother's face every time she checked in made it that much harder to enter the room. She wanted to give him good news, but each hour the fever lingered only weakened her patient. At least Neal allowed her to change his bandages and agreed to take the antibiotics she prescribed… but he didn't seem to eat anything even though she asked the nurses to provide him with meals, nor did he ever seem to leave the room.

She pushed the door opened and found exactly what she expected. The young man in the wheel chair pulled up to his brother's bed, holding the other man's hand, speaking encouragement in a soft soothing tone, though his voice sounded rough with over use. He glanced over his shoulder and flashed her a smile. Once again she marveled at his strength and determination as well. She could only imagine what a force to be recognized with they would be if they were both healthy.

"Good evening Neal." She returned his smile "How's he doing?"

"Better I think… he has been quieter." He swallowed hard. Obviously he knew that might not be a good thing. He glanced over her shoulder as his friend quietly slipped into the room, giving the other man a nod.

"Has he been awake at all this afternoon?" the doctor continued

"A couple of times." Neal sighed "he didn't really recognize me but…" Dr. Coleman bent over her patient pushing his damp hair back, and gently ran the thermometer over his forehead. She looked at the reading and blinked… she lay her hand on his skin for a moment. She smiled.

"What?" Neal's voice was anxious.

"100.2"

"That's good…"

"I'll have Kylee check it again in half an hour, but I think his fever is breaking."

"He'll be ok?"

"I think he will be." The man seemed to deflate with relief. "Which means I expect you to get some rest."

"Of course." He grinned

"Preferably in your own bed."

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Peter rolled his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair, as he drove. He spent the last hour trying to convince Neal to go home and sleep in his own bed. He knew it was a futile effort, but he had hoped that since the fever that raged through Kevin's body had finally broke he might be willing to take care of himself for a few hours. While Neal had grinned in relief when the doctor said the worst had passed… that she thought his brother was out of danger, he said with stony firmness he wanted to be there when Kevin woke up. Peter couldn't really blame him for that.

Dr. Coleman had assured him she would keep an eye on Neal as well. She was a surprisingly competent and caring doctor, once they got passed her idealistic fervor, insisting on prescribing Neal an antibiotic and insuring he took it. The young man argued daily he wasn't her patient, but his lungs were definitely sounding better.

Parking outside his house, he rolled his shoulders again and glanced up at his bedroom window… dark. Not that he was surprised it was almost 1:00 am, Elizabeth and William probably went to bed hours ago. He quietly unlocked the door and slipped inside. A small noise caught his ears. Peter stood for a moment allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim interior.

Someone cleared their throat. Peter's hand went to his weapon.

"I wouldn't Agent Burke." Even in the dim light he saw the glint off the barrel. Peter lifted his hand slowly, clearly away from his own holster.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"You may call me Donavan." He recalled Diana's description of her encounter with the man.

"Kevin Grant's supervisor." Peter's frown deepened "what are you doing in my home?"

"I like to know who is using my people."

"I'm sure you do."

"Grant is a remarkable operative."

"I'll agree to that." Peter moved carefully into the room his hand searching for the lamp chain. Fear shot through him again as he remembered these people may be the "good guys" but they didn't play by the same rules as the rest of the team "Where is my wife?"

"Sleeping I assume" the shadow shrugged carelessly "I haven't seen her." He wanted to rush upstairs and confirm she was unharmed but he had a feeling turning his back on Donavan would not be a good idea. Peter's fingers found the chain and the light momentarily blinded both of them.

"Kevin is very good at what he does. I didn't recruit him for this job… he volunteered." He kept his eyes on the gun resting in the man's lap.

"Why would he do that? He had plenty of assignments that needed his unique touch."

"He… had a great deal of… respect for Amelia Woodbridge."

"So this has nothing to do with your consultant that your associate said you 'Pulled out of the Hudson?' Why did she lie to me Agent Burke?"

"She didn't" he smiled "she allowed you to draw certain conclusions but she didn't lie."

"She deceived me." Donavan's voice was cold "and now my best agent may not survive. Even if he does the damage done may make him unsuitable for field work. I want to know your game, Burke." His concerned eyes gave him away. He was here because he was worried about the young man.

"There is no game… We are just doing our job. Diana didn't know who she should trust." He sighed "At the time… it was unlikely Neal would survive the night. She was protecting him on the off chance he did."

"I see. So involving my agent was also protecting him."

"Yes. But it was Kevin's idea."

"Why would he be interested in the safety of an FBI consultant?" Peter tried not to be offended by the disdainful way Donavan said FBI. He quickly debated what to tell the man but the fact was it would be public knowledge soon.

"Because Neal is his brother."

"Grant is an only child agent, Burke."

"He grew up as one. He was adopted, I know you know that."

"I do."

"I'm sure you know his adoption was not quite... traditional."

"I may have been aware." He ground the admission between his teeth.

"I'm surprised your people didn't put it together that he was kidnapped as a child…" his voice trailed off as a thought struck him "unless you did."

"We had our suspicions, but it was never confirmed." The greying man said with surprising honesty before he made a dismissive gesture "The information was insignificant."

"Even if it meant there was another man of the same caliber out there?"

"That is highly unlikely." the man frowned "Grant is…one of a kind."

"Not as much as you think." Peter frowned back at him

"I have never found anyone with his ability to blend in or stand out at will." He scowled at the younger man's knowing expression. "And your shortsightedness may have taken that asset from us."

"Kevin is recovering."

"He shouldn't have gotten hurt." It was a growl.

"I agree. I wish I could have prevented it, I thought if it was a legitimate operation I could control the situation…"

"Obviously you couldn't."

"Obviously things got out of control… but he was going after Dennison whether he had back up or not. That would be your training, I assume." Or genetics, Peter added in his mind.

"Yes, I suppose he would have." The older man conceded reluctantly. Peter sighed in relief as Donavan holstered his weapon.

As soon as the man stepped out the door, peter sprinted up the stairs. His breathing didn't return to normal until he found his beautiful wife sleeping in the guestroom with William's small tousled head resting on her chest.

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

He was vaguely aware that time was passing, floating occasionally to the edge of the drug induced ether in which he existed, awake enough to recognize the grinding pain that echoed dully through his system. Each time he was surprised to find he wasn't alone. A constant presence… a reflection of his own face that coaxed and encouraged and sometimes, when the pain was unbearably close, soothed.

This time his head didn't swim when he pulled his eyes open, and the fog in his mind seemed to have dissipated considerably. It was quiet in the room and the face that had hovered over him before was strangely absent. He turned his gaze slowly to each side, then shook his head with a smile. His brother slept in the recliner, stress lines creasing his face. Kevin made an attempt to sit up and gasped as the pain in his hip roared back into focus. He bit his lip to contain the cry that tried to come, but Neal still awoke with a jerk. Kevin caught a brief flash of fear on the other man's expression, before it was wiped away with a brilliant smile. Clearly his brother's dreams weren't pleasant.

"Good morning." Neal said quietly. "Are you ok?"

"I've woke up feeling better, but I'm ok."

"Pain?"

"Not bad." He sighed at the other man's doubtful frown. "As long as I don't move."

"Your fever broke last night." Neal smiled again, a softer more natural smile "you seem clearer."

"I feel clearer." He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "So fever huh? That explains the fog I've been in."

"Yeah… well that and your weight in painkillers daily." Some of the tension had faded from Neal's face a teasing grin slipping into place.

"I'm willing to bet I'm still on the painkillers."

"Yeah." Neal gave him another brief grin "that would be a safe bet."

"And you stayed through it all?"

"Family." He said it like it explained everything. Kevin looked away, it had been a long time since anyone cared enough to stay with him through a situation like this. Neal was definitely getting closer than he should. Kevin pushed the thought away.

"How long does family sit around a hospital waiting for me?" he honestly didn't know. When he woke up in the hospital at seventeen he had been alone. It was several days before they told him his dad was dead and even longer before they let him visit his mother as she lay, lost forever in a deep coma. That was the last time he had a family when he found himself in a hospital.

"As long as it takes." The other man shrugged

"Thanks." The pause stretched like putty in the air. "Did we get Dennison?"

"You did… not sure you'll be happy to hear you saved his life."

"I did?"

"He was going to shoot Peter… you jerked his arm and pulled him over as the team shot at him. He only took three bullets instead of twelve or fifteen."

"Oh."

"He's going to spend the rest of his life in prison. If that makes you feel any better."

"It does I guess…" he actually wasn't sure how he felt about the man who ordered Amelia's death being alive. "What about Ridgemont?"

"In Riker's… you dislocated his knee."

"Good." He glanced at his brother… a bit of strain still tinted his expression. "So … will I live?" he grinned, watching Neal slide from the recliner to his chair. The other man moved closer to him once he was mobile.

"I think so, now… your hip is a mess. Going to need surgery a couple of times to repair it… even then…" he shrugged. "It may never be 100%" Kevin nodded. Neal absently patted his knee. "Diana is going after the man who took you as a baby… she's hoping to make an arrest tomorrow."

"That's good."

"She thinks they took forty or fifty kids." Neal was silent, letting that sink in. "I sent our mom a message."

"What did she say?" Kevin tried to hide the yawn

"Nothing yet." He shrugged again "I don't even know if it's been delivered, but I'm sure she will want to see you." Despite the settling exhaustion, he heard the emphasis Neal placed on the last word. He would have asked about it but his eyes were drooping "get some rest."

"You too." He managed before the fog swirled back in.

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Meredith Wilcox watched the man and woman in dark suits slowly mount the stairs to her front door. Their set blank faces were unfamiliar but the expression was one she knew well.

"Ms. Wilcox" the man began "I'm afraid you may be compromised."

"How? What happened?"" she didn't want to move, to become another person, to try to build another lonely life. Not that it really mattered, she had no friends, for the last thirteen years no family. Nothing and no one to leave behind… to miss her when she was gone. Her mind spiraled off into the abyss that consumed so many of her days… She had a family once, a whole beautiful family and a life worth living but that had all vanished thirty years ago.

"Ms. Wilcox? Are you ok ma'am?" the woman was calling to her… she must have missed what they said.

"Yeah I'm fine."

"As I said the contact came from an FBI agent." The man continued as the woman regarded her with a look of disgust and pity. "It may not be a threat but we are on standby to move you if it should prove to be."

"Right." She sighed "so I should pack my things?"

"Probably, Ms. Wilcox." The woman said gently. Meredith frowned, she didn't want this woman's pity. "There was a message for you." This time the man frowned, his eyes snapping angrily.

"What message?"

"We weren't sure if it was meant to be threatening or not… maybe you could enlighten us?"

"Tell me." She was incapable of fear now… there was nothing the men she spent her life hiding from could take from her. She had nothing.

"He said the message was from Danny?" for the first time Meredith raised her eyes and really looked at the young woman.

"You're sure he said Danny?"

"Yes. He said to tell you 'Danny said Nick is real." Meredith choked, suddenly feeling sick her buried loss surging through her mind. Her beautiful perfect little boy, laid to rest in an untended grave…untended because her husband refused to let him rest in peace, refused to believe he was gone. She could feel his tiny fingers in her hair as he hugged her, his blue eyes laughing as his face glowed with baby giggles. Yes, she admitted to herself after all this time Nick was real, but not anymore. "And he is alive." The woman finished as Meredith's world stopped abruptly on its axis.

"Alive…?" it was a soundless whisper choked with disbelief.

"Yes… does that mean something to you? Is it a threat? A warning?"

"A lie." She said firmly, she could let herself hope… she didn't dare. "It can't be true."

"Who is Nick, Ms. Wilcox?"

"My baby. He died… a long time ago."

"And Danny?"

"His brother." Her disbelieving tone shifted to something colder, more distant. "He let them take my baby from me." She didn't voice the thought aloud but it floated through her mind. For seventeen years she had denied it… pushed that harsh thought aside because Danny was her son to too. She admitted the truth now, at least to herself. He lay there sleeping in the same bed while that man took her baby and did nothing… didn't even cry out to let them know it was happening. He was still sleeping when they discovered their loss. Meredith shuttered, her hands trembled. She needed her pills. She wanted so desperately to believe the message. Wanted to believe her son was alive. D*** she needed her pills.

"Do you know where the message came from?"