Chapter Text
“Neal”
Peter will never forget the day everyone’s lives changed.
A single second, and everything they ever knew was lost.
With the sounds of gunshots and people screaming, Peter’s heart dropped as he watched Neal fall to ground like a rag-doll.
———
“Hey Buddy”
Peter watched as Neal slowly made his way towards him with his walker. Compared to a year ago, he had made significant improvements.
The doctors had said he would never walk again.
“P..pe..pet’r”
Would never speak again,
“How was your day?”
“G..good”
Would never think again.
But against all odds, Neal had made it through. Nothing short of a miracle; and Peter was grateful that his friend was alive.
—-
Then
Peter held Neal in his arms, desperately trying to stop the bleeding from his head. This wasn’t like a regular gun shot wound - putting pressure on it wouldn’t do much.
But what else could he do?
“Neal stay with me! Diana where’s backup?”
“They’re on their way Peter”
“Well tell them to hurry the fuck up! I’m not letting Neal die like this”
It was meant to be a standard undercover. They’d done it so many times before.
But they had underestimated the serious implications for Neal as he continued to work for the bureau.
Within seconds, the concrete was painted in deep red.
Peter could feel Neal’s pulse slowing down.
“Diana!”
“They’re turning now, boss”
Peter doesn’t really remember the ride to the hospital. Next thing he knew, he was waiting with El by his side. It was only when she told him he’d realised his hands and clothes were covered in blood.
The blood of one person he was meant to keep safe.
El had fallen asleep - her head against his shoulder, when Mozzie finally showed.
“How…how bad is it?”
“…it’s bad Mozzie”
To his surprise, Mozzie quietly sat next to him and waited, for what felt like days.
“Family of Neal Caffrey?”
—-
Doctors said the bullet almost went straight through his brain. They gave him 30% chance of recovery and 10% of ever regaining consciousness. But then again, doctors are trained to give the worst case scenario - but seeing Neal in the ICU, so vulnerable, almost made Peter believe this was beyond recovery.
They were only allowed in one by one. El came out crying and Mozzie had to sit down as soon as he walked out.
“This was never meant to happen!”
“I know”
Peter understood Mozzie’s anger
“This is all YOUR fault SUIT”
“…I know”
And Peter did blame himself.
“Mozzie, we’re all upset. Go home- we’ll talk more tomorrow”
El stepped in to calm the little man down.
When he returned home, unharmed - Peter’s guilt began to crush him. And once the tears started falling, he couldn’t stop.
“El, I was meant to keep him safe!”
Peter clung onto his wife as he let his guilt take over. He deserved to feel this - no, he had to feel this.
“This is…this is all my fault”
The only thing El could do to console her husband was to let him cry, and to let it all out. She knew deep down, he knew there was nothing anybody could have done.
—
Now
Peter waited at the end of the hallway as Neal continued to make his way down.
He didn’t want to rush him, and he wanted to encourage his recovery.
He walked alongside as Neal made his way to a couch and helped him sit comfortably.
The nurse placed a table in-front of Neal, with his half-finished coloring in book and pencils.
“I’ll give you two some time”
“Thanks Sam”
Peter watched as Neal unsteadily picked up a red pencil with his right hand - the good one, while his left hand, still in a brace due to the posturing, clumsily held down the book.
He waited until Neal initiated the conversation.
“Pet’r…good d..d…day?”
“The usual,”
Peter then went on to ramble on about his day - talking about a new case and how the team managed to solve it, but how Neal was missed because he would’ve been great help.
How much of this Neal actually comprehended was something nobody really knew. Neal continued to nod while he finished his colouring in activity.
The doctors had said Neal’s long-term memory likely remained intact, while his short term memory was severely compromised.
“Neal… do you understand what I’m saying?”
“…”
He was busy colouring in a green bird, until he could see an onset of a seizure.
“Neal? Sam!”
Peter was helpless as he watched Neal’s eyes roll back into his head, his arms tied close to his chest; his body in an instant state of freeze, while his nurse quickly placed him on the ground - letting his body jerk aimlessly.
“Has the frequency increased?”
“No but it’s been longer each time”
“What about his meds?”
“He’s on the maximum dosage Peter”
As Neal’s body settled, his nurse wiped away the foam that had collected by his lips. Peter made circles with his palms on Neal’s back in an attempt to comfort him.
“ I’m right here buddy. You’re safe.”
Peter watched as Neal stared into empty space. He knew the toll each seizure had on his body - on his already fragile brain.
He remembered the first time Neal had a seizure in the hospital.
—-
Then
7 days post-op. After much convincing from El, Peter finally went home, had a decent shower, and a meal with his wife for the first time in a week.
Doctors continued to say that they didn’t know when Neal would wake up – or if he ever would. But Peter didn’t want to give up. No, Peter knew Neal was not one to give up. With Mozzie freaked out more than ever, Peter simply couldn’t give up.
He asked Jones to bring some new case files. Some interesting ones that he knew Neal would take great interest in. One by one he read them out loud to his sleeping friend.
“You know, now that I think about it, I probably should’ve brought a really boring file. Maybe it’ll wake you up to stop me.”
Peter thought of all the times Neal complained about the boring files.
What he’d do now for Neal to complain to his face, then and there.
Peter was lost in thought when the alarms started to go off.
“Neal?”
Peter pressed the call button until an array of nurses ran into Neal’s room. He watched as they rolled him onto his side while Peter began to grow cold at the sight of his friend violently jerk on the hospital bed.
“Neal?? What’s happening?”
“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to step outside”
—-
Now
Peter knew there was no point of him staying.
But he stayed and watched as Sam placed Neal in bed, tucking him in comfortably.
Neal was somewhat conscious but Peter could tell he was “not all there”. Most days, Neal would be confused after a big seizure; but Sam had given him some sedatives before bed.
“p…pet’r”
“Yeah buddy. You’re okay. I’m right here”
“No…no go..no…”
“You want me to go? I’m going to stay here until you fall asleep, okay?”
“No…no…”
“Okay okay, until you fall asleep”
Peter held Neal’s good hand and squeezed it a little for Neal to find some comfort.
And to his surprise, he felt a faint squeeze in response