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17. Caregiver Burnout
Peter and Neal were driving home together from a weekend conference in Boston, and Neal was being far too quiet. He’d seemed a little off kilter all day, though Peter didn’t bring it up, but the fact that he had been virtually silent since they’d gotten in the car was a bad sign. Clearing his throat, Peter looked over at his partner. “Doing okay?”
Neal’s head was lolled back against the seat and he looked like he was mostly asleep. “Hmm?”
“I asked if you’re doing okay. You’ve been awfully quiet today.”
Nodding, Neal shifted so that he was sitting more upright instead of being slouched like he had been. “Yeah. Tired, I guess.” Truthfully, his throat was starting to ache, but he didn’t want to admit that. He probably just needed some water.
“Well, we’ll be home in about an hour. Want to nap?” Peter turned the radio down so that Neal could sleep if he wanted to and bumped up the temperature a few degrees.
“I’m okay.” Neal turned the radio back up to its original volume and crossed his arms over his chest. “What? The background noise helps me sleep,” he said in explanation when Peter raised an eyebrow at him.
“Want me to drop you at your place before dinner?” El had planned a dinner for the three of them when he and Neal got home from their conference, but now he was debating whether Neal should even participate.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. Can’t have El thinking I don’t want her cooking.”
“She would understand.”
Neal shrugged. “I’m fine, Peter.”
Famous last words Peter thought.
The dinner El’d cooked was delicious, but Neal’s chin was dipping towards his chest before the end of the meal. As much as he wanted to stay awake and converse with the Burkes, he couldn’t keep his eyes open no matter how hard he tried.
“Neal, honey, why don’t you go up to bed? The guest room is already made up.” El reached out and rubbed her hand up and down Neal’s arm, glancing at Peter over Neal’s head. He’d mentioned how out of sorts Neal had seemed on the ride home, and she had to agree with him.
Neal jerked, clearly startled. “I’m okay.”
“We’re going to go up pretty soon,” Peter said, like that might convince the younger man to get some sleep.
Yawning, eyes watering, Neal nodded. “Alright. Thanks for dinner, El. It was delicious as always.”
“Any time, sweetie. Sleep well.”
Neal kissed her on the cheek and disappeared up the stairs, leaving Peter and El to speculate.
“He must be getting sick?” El guessed as she gathered the dishes from the table.
“Must be. There’s no way he’s planning anything, Mozzie’s been out of town for about a month now.” Peter helped El clean up and then they sat on the couch together for a few minutes. “Think he’ll let us help him? Or will he run away to hide and lick his wounds in private?”
El hummed. “He’s been a lot better about letting us in lately. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt.” She leaned into Peter’s side and snuggled into him when he put an arm around her shoulders. “I missed you, mister.”
Peter squeezed his wife and kissed her temple. “I bet I missed you more. Neal snores.”
El laughed and grabbed Peter’s hand, dragging him up the stairs to bed.
The next morning Peter was up and ready for work a little earlier than he normally was. Neal was nowhere to be seen. “Hon, have you heard anything from the guest room?” Peter asked as he chose a tie to wear to the office.
El poked her head out of the closet. “Not a peep. Have you?”
Peter shook his head, worry sinking in his gut like a stone. “I’ll go check on him.” He knocked softly on the door to the guest room and cracked it open when Neal didn’t respond. “It’s time to get up for work, kiddo,” Peter said as he entered the room.
Neal was curled up under a mound of blankets, only the top of his head visible from under the pile.
Peter sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed what he assumed to be Neal’s side. “Up and at em!”
Neal didn’t budge.
Frowning, Peter pulled the blankets back. Neal was generally a very light sleeper and it was surprising that the younger man hadn’t even flinched at the physical contact. Neal was sleeping fitfully, his cheeks flushed and his nose clearly stuffed up. “Oh, great,” Peter muttered.
El poked her head into the room then. “Is he okay?”
Peter felt Neal’s forehead and looked over at his wife. “He’s got a fever.”
“Well that explains the lethargy last night,” she said as she crossed the room. “Want me to stay home with him today?”
Shaking his head, Peter ran his fingers through Neal’s hair. “Nah, I’ll call us both out.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I can handle him. Have a good day at work.” Peter kissed his wife and watched her leave the room before pulling his tie off. “Guess it’s you and me today, kiddo,” he said mostly to himself. He pulled the blankets back up to Neal’s chin and stood to call the office, heading back into his room so that he didn’t wake Neal with the conversation he had with Diana. Once that was sorted, he changed into jeans and a sweatshirt and stopped by the bathroom on his way back to the guest room to gather the thermometer and some Tylenol.
Neal was exactly where Peter’d left him.
Deciding not to wake Neal up until he had to, Peter stuck the thermometer in his ear and waited for it to get a reading. “102.6. You’ve got a good one going, huh?”
Neal scrunched his face up then, wiggling around a little before sneezing himself awake.
“Bless you,” Peter said, grabbing a tissue from the box on the nightstand.
“Peter?” Neal took the tissue and dabbed at his nose, confused about where he was for a second while his brain caught up with him. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. How are you feeling?” Peter poured out a dose of Tylenol and held it out for Neal to take, along with a glass of water.
Neal swallowed the pills without argument and propped himself up agains the headboard. “Bad.” He paused. “Aren’t we supposed to be at work?” He flung the cover off of himself and tried to stand but Peter stopped him before he could swing his feet out of bed.
“Woah, I called us out. Lie back down.” Peter tucked him in again and straightened out the blankets. “You’re not going anywhere, cowboy. You’ve got a fever that’s high enough to cook an egg on your forehead.”
Neal reached up and felt his cheek with one hand, frowning when it felt like normal. “I’m just a little stuffy, it’s really no big deal.”
“Neal, so help me if you don’t cut the crap. Just be honest with me. I know you must feel pretty shitty, so let’s start there. What’s bothering you?” Peter wanted to know Neal’s symptoms so that he could dose him with the right medicine.
Neal coughed into his elbow and felt his cheeks flush; he still wasn’t used to Peter and El caring for him like they would their own son. It was uncomfortable, but in the best way possible. “Um, I guess it’s mostly just the stuffy nose.” He grimaced as he moved. “And I’m sore all over.”
“You probably have the flu.” Peter pushed Neal’s hair back from his forehead and scratched at Neal’s scalp a little. “Wanna stay in bed or go down to the living room?”
Neal looked down at his hands. “I’m fine, Peter, I can go home. I don’t want to be a pain for you or El.”
Peter huffed out a laugh. “When will you get it through your beautiful brain that you won’t ever be a bother to us? We want you here.” He rubbed a thumb over Neal’s cheek, Neal leaning in to the touch. “Now. Downstairs?”
Neal nodded.
“Okay. Let’s go.” Peter hung back and followed closely behind Neal as he got out of bed and shuffled down the hallway in case Neal listed to the side. “Want to stop in the bathroom?” Peter asked as they walked by the door.
Neal nodded again and closed himself in to do his morning business. After he used the toilet he brushed his teeth, not daring to look in the mirror and see how scary he looked, and then went back out to the hallway to see that Peter was still waiting for him. He slowly made his way down to the couch and sat heavily, hanging his head down to ride out the dizziness he was feeling.
“Feel up to breakfast?”
“Not very hungry,” Neal responded. His stomach was churning a little from the walk down the stairs.
“Tea then.” It wasn’t up for debate. “Want to lie back?”
Neal pulled his legs up and fell on his side, curling on the couch and snuggling into the blanket that Peter draped over him. Shivering, Neal let out a whine at how much his body ached, every joint protesting at the force of gravity pushing on him.
“I’m sorry you feel so bad, kiddo. I’ll be right back.” Peter hurried to the kitchen to boil some water and stuck a rice bag in the microwave while he waited. The microwave finished before the tea water, so Peter brought it to the living room and tucked it under the blanket against Neal’s chest. “Tea will be ready in a few minutes.”
Neal huddled around the rice bag and pulled the blanket up over his ear to try and keep his body heat in with him. “Thanks.”
Frowning, Peter went back to the kitchen and set out a mug and a tea bag, the kettle on the stove steaming furiously. When he went back to the living room, he set the tea on the coffee table and nudged at Neal until the younger man sat up. Peter sat on the end of the couch Neal’s head had been lying on and set a pillow on his lap, patting it to tell Neal to lie back down. Neal hesitated for all of two seconds before snuggling into Peter, soaking up his body heat.
For the rest of the day, Neal clung to Peter like a sea star. By the time El got home from work Peter was restless and sick of sitting still.
“Hey, hon.” El sat on the coffee table and felt Neal’s forehead with her wrist. “Still burning up?”
Neal nodded sadly, his bottom lip pouting a little.
Peter pushed at Neal until the younger man sat up and stood, stretching his back as he hobbled away to the kitchen. El followed behind him.
“Hon?”
Peter ran a hand down his face. “I can’t sit on that couch any longer, I’m going crazy in there.”
El smiled and kissed Peter’s cheek. “I’ll go change and take over, how does that sound?”
Peter sighed a breath of relief. “Great. I’ll take Satch for a walk.” He kissed El and stretched his arms up over his head. “He’s like a koala or something. I swear, he didn’t get farther away from me all day than six inches.
El hummed a laugh. “He’s always been pretty tactile when he’s not feeling his best.”
“You can say that again,” Peter joked.
“Alright. I’ll be right back.” El went upstairs to change and Peter went back to the living room.
“El will be right down. I’m going to take Satch for a walk. Doing okay?” Peter smoothed Neal’s hair back, sitting on the coffee table until his wife returned.
Neal nodded. “How long will you be gone?” There was a whine in his voice that Peter chose to ignore.
“Satch needs to stretch his legs a bit, and so do I. El will sit with you while I’m gone. Is that okay?”
Neal nodded again.
El came downstairs then, pulling her hair up into a bun on the top of her head. “What are we watching?”
Peter got out of the way and El took his spot on the couch, Neal immediately curling up against her side, his head resting on her shoulder and an arm around her middle.
“All set?” Peter asked as he grabbed Satchmo’s leash.
“We’re fine, hon. Enjoy your walk.” El settled in and wrapped an arm around Neal as she looked through the tv channels for Project Runway marathon.
Peter smiled at his two favorite people and thought back to when Neal first joined the White Collar division; he never imagined that their relationship would turn into this, Neal curled up on his couch with his wife, somehow filling the role that he and El both needed of a child while simultaneously getting his need for loving parents filled. It was a win-win, really. Everyone got what they so desperately needed: a family.