Initial Recovery


Neal had continued to recover, and although he reacted to his visitors, he hadn't talked since that conversation.

Sitting by his bedside yet again, Peter was working on a case when Neal groaned slightly as he rested his hand on his chest.

Reaching over, Peter lifted his hand off and pushed the nurse call button. "Don't, your sternum is broken."

Frowning at him, Neal seemed to question, I don't remember them breaking it…

Looking away guiltily, Peter was about to admit to it being his fault when the nurse entered.

"Something wrong?" She started checking Neal over and noticed that he seemed to be in pain. Upping his pain meds despite their efforts to wean him off of them, she then did a few things to make him comfortable before leaving.

"Peter?" Neal's voice was soft as he drifted off to sleep.

"It was me; I broke your sternum doing CPR." There was silence, and when he looked back at his friend, he saw that Neal was asleep.

Scrubbing his hand down his face, Peter leaned forward and groaned into his arms as he lay on the edge of Neal's bed. Whether Neal had heard his confession or not didn't matter, he'd know that it was his fault.


Then a few hours later Neal woke up again but Peter was ready for it as he sat by his side.

"Are you feeling better?" He reached out and touched Neal's arm anchoring his presence since Neal could be a little groggy.

Grunting, Neal wasn't very vocal, but he was blinking a lot as he woke up.

Giving him a few minutes, Peter kept his thumb shifting along the exposed skin of Neal's arm.

When he was ready, Neal turned his head to look at him, "Hurts."

"I know, between what they did… and what I did to you, there's plenty to bother you." Peter didn't want to look at him, but he forced himself to cowboy up and live up to his own motto.

"You?" Neal's brow furrowed again, he didn't seem to remember what had happened.

"Yes, me. I know now that you didn't steal the treasure, but I fell for their ploy, and I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner. When you needed me most, I wasn't even looking to help you, I was looking to prove you guilty, and they left me a nice trail of evidence to follow. I wasn't there to rescue you, Neal; I was there to arrest you. But… but then…" He shivered as the memories played out in his mind which only got worse when he closed his eyes.

"I died," Neal stated it simply.

"Yeah, you died." Peter opened his eyes, but Neal was blurry from the mist of tears. "You were almost right, we were about to be too late. If we'd have taken any longer to figure out their trail, you would have stayed dead." He rubbed his eyes to clear them which helped, but he still had too much emotion to prevent more tears from replacing them.

"Saved me," Neal's tone indicated that it was a question, although the answer was obvious.

Nodding, Peter sighed, "Yes, Jones and Diana helped me get you out of the fetters and off of the wall. When we got you to the floor, Diana began giving you mouth to mouth and I did the chest compressions. After your sternum cracked," he shivered again almost hearing the sound since it had been haunting his nightmares. "Then Jones pushed me back and he took over when I froze. Neal, I'm the one who broke your sternum. It might have saved your life, but it's going to be a painful reminder, possibly for the rest of your life. I'm the one who hurt you, and you'll have a built-in barometer whenever the weather changes because of me." He ducked into his hands fighting the tears.

Reaching out and touching his arm, Neal lightly caught his sleeve and tugged gently.

Looking back up at him, Peter was surprised to see Neal smile softly, "Thanks."

Blinking, he hadn't expected that, "Thanks?"

"Caring, saving my life." Neal nodded slightly.

Hurt, Peter felt his heart drop. "Caring? Of course, I care! Neal, you're my friend, my partner."

Dropping his hand from his sleeve, Neal rested his hand on his arm, "I know."

Calming down, Peter still wanted to reinforce that he cared. "I mean it, Neal. I might not have been acting like it, but thinking you'd betrayed me hurt, deeply! But, I do care, you are my friend, and my partner and I've never lost a partner. You're the first to even try and get away from me and I can't describe how much I haven't liked it. It's not about the paperwork that I'd have to deal with if anything happened to you, never was, it's always been about your safety. Please, no matter what, I need you to take care of yourself, to let me take care of you, I need you to be okay. You certainly can't die on me!"

While he talked, Neal moved his hand down to squeeze his fingers, "Sorry."

Taking his hand between his own, Peter accepted the apology. It wasn't like Neal had tried to get hurt, but he needed him to know that putting himself in danger wasn't okay. Things like this could happen any time he got captured by some enemy or another. "Accepted, but only on one condition. If it ever crosses your mind to do something stupid, something where you could endanger yourself, I want you to remember that you have people in your life who care about you. I'm not the only one who will be dancing on your sternum if you ever try and die on us again! Understood?"

Grinning, Neal slowly nodded, "Understood."

"Good, now that we have that done with. Do you think you're up to giving your statement? Mozzie arrested those responsible, but we still need to finish up the official stuff before this can be completely passed on." He didn't want to push Neal too far, but it was another step in putting everything behind them.

"Can give it a go…" Neal shifted slightly towards sitting up. "I take it you know?"

Moving to help, Peter made it easier for him to get comfortable. "That you're an agent? Yes, but not much else. The records about you and Mozzie aren't being shared openly with us. Apparently, you're special to someone else too." He added a grin of his own as he complimented his friend.

Groaning and closing his eyes for a moment, Neal seemed to have made a wrong move, but after a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked less pained. "That depends on who you ask, but it's safer for you if you don't know who I am. Most of my career has been dealing with public corruption."

That piqued his curiosity, but he knew he wasn't going to get many if any answers, so he left it alone until another time. Grabbing his notepad and pen, he settled in himself. "How about we start at the beginning?"

Listening and jotting the information down, Peter heard Neal's perspective of being abducted using the taxi. Then he was taken along with them as they cleared out his studio, robbed the Uboat, and cut his anklet before pulling him out to a waiting vehicle on the other side of the warehouse where they'd taken the truck. The last thing he remembered seeing was the smoke from the flames as a needle was injected into his neck putting him under. When he'd woken up, he'd been at the warehouse. Everything after that was watching the live feed of the office and the occasional torture. He didn't even remember them copying his fingerprints. After they'd finished, they left him to die and he'd been alone in that room until Peter and the team had entered.

With the official story noted, Peter could see that Neal was worn out and needed to rest.

Getting up, he sat on the edge of the bed and ruffled Neal's hair. "You did good, buddy. I'm glad you hung on and didn't lose hope. I don't want to imagine what it would have been like if I'd entered that room and found you already dead."

"I'm not dead," his sentences were getting shorter again as the pain and fatigue became too much for him.

Helping him settle back down to a sleeping position, Peter took advantage of the opportunity to gently hug Neal by putting his head next to him and laying his arms around him. "I know, and I'm forever grateful that you aren't."

Neal lifted his arms to pat his back briefly and tilted his head towards him reciprocating the hug effect before his arms went limp.

Reaching up behind him, Peter gently caught Neal's arms before they could fall and then lowered them to his side. Sitting up, he saw that Neal had fallen asleep. Gently rubbing his fingers through his friend's hair, he softly told him goodnight, "Sleep well, buddy. Sleep well."

Then it was time to pack up and clear out. Visiting hours were about over and he needed to drop the paperwork off at the office before going home for the night himself.


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