Comfort

It was late in the night when Peter woke up to hear a crash in the guest bedroom.

Glad he'd prepared, he was quickly out of bed, across the hall, and entered the room where his friend was staying.

Finding Neal tangled in the sheets on the floor; Peter turned the lamp on low and crouched down in front of him. "Hey, are you awake now?"

"I think the crash onto the floor did the trick," was his tired and mumbled response as Neal tried to regain his sense.

"As long as it's safely in my guest room or June's loft, I'm okay with that." Peter reached out and began helping Neal untangle the sheets from around him. Then he picked up his arm and put it across his shoulders to help Neal stand up before transferring him back to the bed. Once he was safely seated back on the bed, he moved to straighten the blankets so that the man could get some sleep if he felt up to it.

Since Neal had shifted to stretch out across the bed again, Peter walked around and took a seat on the other side of the bed so that he was next to his friend. "Care to talk about it?"

In the privacte and dimly lit atmosphere, Neal seemed to open up some. "My boss told you a little about me?"

Nodding, Peter acknowledged that she had, and then he summarized what she'd said. "Want to talk about that other case or what happened this time?"

"Not really. I think you can imagine some of the torture that people can use water for. Then today, as I said in my statement, they drew guns on me and took me through the tunnel, park, and car before arriving at the pool. There, they stripped me down to my boxers to ensure that I had nothing on me, to make sure that I'd also be freezing down there, and to make it more humiliating. Most people don't want to be found dead in their underwear."

Since Neal was reluctant, Peter didn't go into the previous torture or drowning, but he did push on the recent happenings. "But you had that device on you. How did you smuggle that?"

Neal just rolled his head over to look at him, but he didn't answer.

"Your boxers, it's fortunate then that they left you at least that. You'd been in trouble if they'd forced you to strip completely."

Peter felt his own shiver. That would have made it real, Neal would have been dead and drowned at the bottom of that pool just like he'd appeared. "You put on a good performance."

"Beckman met me at the stash house and gave me the device so I'd thrown in a quick change to ensure that I at least had something in my favor just in case. Once the doors had closed enough that I couldn't get any air from the surface anymore, I pulled the device out of the pocket in my boxers and used it to pull oxygen from the water. Then I'd swam down to the only other ladder beside the entrance one.

It gave me a ledge to lie on, I was deep enough no one could immediately notice that I was breathing, and I could hold onto the ladder to keep myself in place for my performance. I could hear the door open again, but I didn't know if it was them checking to make sure I was dead, or if it was you so I held my performance a little longer just in case. When no bullets seemed to be shot into the water, I decided to take a risk. My arm was cramping and it was getting harder to breathe between the weight of the water and the cold. Taking my last shot before I'd get too cold down there, I took the risk and swam to the surface. Hearing Diana and then you showing up confirmed that I'd made the right choice." Neal then shivered and pulled a pillow into his arms to hug for comfort.

Reaching out and pulling Neal into his side, Peter hugged him to comfort both of them. "Your performance was too good. I thought we'd lost you."

"Sorry, it was better than getting shot to death when they'd thought it funny to shoot into the water just to one side of me or the other. If they'd even nicked me, I'd have bled to death." Neal threw in a new detail that he'd left out earlier.

"We're going to make sure we've got some solid reports on this. You keep adding details that just make it worse." He shook his head and squeezed his friend a little tighter.

"That's pretty much it, but I don't think you'd appreciate me going into detail on how much fun they were having using me for target practice," Neal commented to reassure him, but it wasn't working.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find out. Diana got the security video from the facility so we'll be able to see what happened. However, I haven't watched it yet."

He'd spent the afternoon at the hospital with Neal instead.

"I warrant that much scrutiny? You know I wasn't going to run and you don't normally feel the need to do the whole bedside vigil thing." Neal didn't seem to understand how much he meant to him.

Shifting his hand, Peter ruffled Neal's hair. "Yes, you do warrant that much and more scrutiny. You're a magnet for trouble, something my conversation with your other boss confirms. However, for you, I made the exception. The afternoon was more about the whole bedside vigil thing."

"Really? You, agent Peter Burke. Doing the whole nurse thing?" Neal laughed softly.

Considering what he was doing, it seemed like it ought to be obvious. "Yes, Neal. You might have noticed that I'm sitting here next to you in the middle of the night instead of being across the hall with my wife. It might not be my strong suit, but I'm not incapable."

"I'm sorry," that shifted Neal's conversation, but Peter cut him off.

"Don't. Although you nearly dying today warrants some special treatment, this level of it isn't going to last forever. However, it isn't only for you. I had to stand by that pool and look down into that water and see your still form believing I was looking at your corpse. Then I sat on a bench not far from the water and replayed through the case feeling like I'd completely and utterly failed you. You're my friend, and I didn't appreciate that."

Giving his hair another ruffle, he then dropped his hand to give him another squeezing hug. "I'm glad to know that you're alive, but I also need to know that you're okay. It's messing with my head, so it must be doing a number on yours."

Sighing, Neal stopped playing around. "You're right. It is messing with my head. I keep seeing those doors close overhead before it went completely dark and cold. It was like being buried alive but in a cold and watery grave. Then I had to breathe through that contraption which is kind of like being restricted to the air you can get through a straw. I slowly swam feeling my way around until I found what I was looking for and settled onto the ledge holding the ladder. It was the only grounding thing I had in there. Everything else was either a smooth surface or dark wetness. That was my world, for hours by the sound of it." He shivered as he imagined the experience again to describe it.

That was a bleak picture and Peter never wanted to experience it for himself. Encouraging Neal to continue, he asked, "What happened next?"

"I don't know how long it was, but the first difference I noticed was the rumbling of the engine as it fired up to begin moving the doors. It's close to the pool, so the sound reverberates through the water, even down to where I was. My eyes were closed to reduce their exposure to the chemicals for keeping the pool clean so I didn't see the light as it spread down through the water. Instead, I waited for a while holding my position just in case. It wasn't easy, I was cold and my arm ached from keeping me from floating up."

"How did you make it to the surface?" Peter gave him a push to keep going.

"Easy, I started by letting go. That allowed me to begin to float up slowly so I turned over and used the slow ascent to observe what was going on around the pool. It was blurry through all of that water, but I could see people moving around and they seemed to be in tactical gear which indicated agency presence.

Then I slowly added some speed by throwing in the odd kick or something to help without tiring myself out too quickly. When I was closer to the surface, I put more effort into swimming until I reached the ladder and pulled myself out." Neal leaned into him harder since he was upset to relive what he'd gone through.

Holding his friend, Peter was glad that he'd been the first to his side. "I'm glad I was there, that you didn't have to lay there on that cold hard tile dripping wet. It was probably too reminiscent of what you'd been doing down on the bottom of that pool."

"It was, except there was noise and freezing cold air. And then there was you. Okay, I can see how you're good at that whole bedside thing. I remember you picking me up into your lap and wrapping me in your jacket trying to warm me up. I think someone was down by my legs too?"

"Diana," Peter supplied her name.

There was a shift as Neal processed that. "She's not so bad at the bedside stuff either. I guess I underestimated you FBI agents."

"And we underestimated you, CIA agent." Peter rested his chin on Neal's head as he fell off of his shoulder toward his chest in growing drowsiness.

"What made you settle on me being CIA?" Neal didn't directly claim he was right, but it seemed to be since he wanted to know what led him to that.

"It fits you better than the NSA does. I think you might have taken your similarities to James Bonds a little too much to heart." Peter then continued to talk about various Bonds movies and how he could see Neal pulling the missions off just as well if not better. Imagining hypothetical ways that he could have managed without all of the violence and seduction; Peter distracted his friend and got a few soft laughs that were growing softer the longer he went on.

Neal was slowly relaxing back to slumber. He'd gone through a lot in the day so it made sense that he'd only manage to stay awake so long, especially once he was no longer so focused on what had gone wrong.

Not wanting to disturb Neal once he'd gone quiet, Peter just shook his head softly as he realized that this was really happening. He was falling asleep on his guest bed with Neal Caffrey cuddled into his chest.

Considering how insane the day had been, it wasn't the most unbelievable conclusion, and it was certainly better than Neal lying on a slab at the morgue.

Running his fingers through Neal's hair as he started shifting in response to a dream, Peter started talking again. This time he talked a little about how glad he was that Neal was an agent.

"I never imagined that you'd turn out to be a secret agent. But I'm glad. It will make some aspects of work easier in the future. If things look hinky, I know that there is probably more to the story, particularly your work with whoever is supporting your operation. That's better than you running off alone pulling some crazy stunt that could land you back in prison. However, I don't like hearing about you being tortured and technically killed. You're my friend, and I'd rather you stay safe with me."

It worked as Neal calmed down again and settled deeper into his sleep.

Sitting there against the headboard, Peter let his mind wander as he slowly drifted toward sleep.

At one point, he'd drifted off only to start awake as his mind pictured Neal there lying at the bottom of the pool again. Looking around by the light of the lamp, he quickly realized that it was real, but that Neal was alright as the man was still sleeping.

Neal had shifted so that he was back to lying on his side of the bed more, but he was still resting his head against his abdomen. He could probably hear his breathing and feel his body heat which was reassuring for him.

Running his fingers through Neal's hair for his own comfort, Peter rested his hand on the kid's head as reassurance that Neal was there and okay.

Then he let his head rest against the headboard again as he drifted back off to sleep. It had been a long day for him as well and he felt exhausted after everything that had happened.

Waking up to the sunlight streaming into his face, Peter was still tired, but he couldn't sleep in that position any longer. There was a crick in his neck that wouldn't be easily removed, but it had been worth it.

Neal was still asleep and he'd gotten through his first night after everything.

Hearing a noise as the door softly creaked open; he looked over and saw his wife peaking in to check on them.

Mouthing the word 'nightmares', she questioned what had happened.

Nodding, he confirmed her assumption. Then he indicated both of them, that Neal wasn't the only one who'd had nightmares through the night.

Softening her expression, Elizabeth gestured with her hand that she was drinking and then held up her fingers flashing them a few times to indicate how long it would be before she'd have fresh coffee made.

Then as she was closing the door, there was a noise and she gasped softly when Satchmo walked between her legs and into the room before she could catch him.

Trotting across the room, Satchmo reached the bed and bumped Neal's foot that was hanging over the edge from his shifting through the night.

Jumping at the feeling of a cold nose, Neal wasn't sure what was going on as he blearily looked around the room trying to get his bearings. "What?"

"Sorry, Neal. Come on, Satchmo." Elizabeth caught the dog by his collar before pulling him towards the door. "Coffee will be ready shortly if you want to join me downstairs when you're ready."

After she left, Neal turned towards him with the same bleary-eyed expression on his face.

"Yeah, it's one for the books. You might have had the first nightmares, but you weren't the only one. Come on, El's making coffee and I've got a miserable crick in my neck." Peter didn't want to acknowledge it beyond the basics. It was one thing holding his friend through nightmares in the night, but this was the light of day.

Getting up, Neal rubbed his eyes before getting up and pausing, "Peter?"

Pausing in his motion to get up as well, he turned to his friend. "Yeah?"

"Thanks," Neal wasn't overly acknowledging it either, but their secret was just another memory that would be shared between them.

"You're welcome."

The office didn't need to know, and no one would seriously hold it against them anyway. It had been a hard day and they needed the reassurance that they'd gotten through it to counter the nightmares.

Catching up to his friend, Peter clapped him on the shoulder before letting him lead the way downstairs.

There would be plenty of challenges ahead and more nightmares to be gotten through, but they'd support each other. Everything would be alright.

Thank you, everyone, for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos :D

Here are the votes:

"When the Cookie Crumbles": I