Chapter Text
...
It was supposed to be an easy case. No one had expected Neal to take a blow to the head. Diana and Jones had brought the suspect down. Like Peter they had expected Neal to get up like he always did. Peter was barking orders to his people but there was no verbal sparring from Neal. There was no sarcastic remark from the young conman. Nothing.
He turned to find that Neal hadn't gotten up. Neal was unconscious. "Neal!" Peter called out rushing to his friend.
He quickly took his suit jacket off and placed it under the other man's head. Neal was breathing at least. A pulse check had his heart rate steady.
"Get the EMTs here!" he ordered sharply.
"They're on their way boss," Jones replied from his side.
He had the suspect in handcuffs. They were lucky that no civilians were injured. Neal though...he had been in the wrong place and the guy had hit him in the back of the head. Peter had caught the tail end of the moment. But Neal had yet to move.
The sound of the sirens reached his ears. He let out a sigh of relief. He'd be okay. He had to be.
...
An hour later, Neal's head was wrapped up and they were waiting for him to wake up. The doctors had run some tests and found nothing unusual. His vitals were strong and the CAT scan showed that his brain was functioning normally.
It was just a matter of the young con waking up now. The others were outside the hospital room while Peter was sitting next to Neal's bed. Neal's hat was in his hands. It was covered in blood. Blood that had already dried. It was a reminder that this could have gone so much worse.
They had gotten the suspect, but it could have ended with someone dying. If the blow to the back of the head had been harder, if Neal hadn't moved at the last second, he could have died. If he lost Neal, he didn't know what he'd have done. Elizabeth would have been devastated. June would be too. Mozzie might actually have killed him. Not that Peter blamed him. He should have had his agents cover the suspect's blind spot. Neal shouldn't have gotten hurt. Not on his watch.
"Come on, buddy," the agent said. "You need to wake up."
"Peter?"
The older man looked up to see that his wife had entered the room. El had a concerned look on her face. She approached the chair he was sitting in and kissed him on the top of his head. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she hugged him. He took a hand and placed it on her arm, squeezing reassuringly.
"How is he?" she asked worriedly.
She was staring at the bandages that covered Neal's head and her expression darkened. She was just as protective of the conman as he was.
"He should be okay," he answered quietly, "We are just waiting for him to wake up."
"And the guy that did this to him?" She asked.
"We have him in custody," Peter assured her. "There's enough evidence on him that he won't be getting out of prison for a long time. We'll make sure of that."
"Good," El said firmly.
"You don't have to worry," he said. "Neal is strong and stubborn. I'm sure once he wakes up we'll never hear the end of his complaining. That or his sarcasm will come back full force and I'll want to strangle him with his own IV."
Peter couldn't actually remember Neal ever being injured so badly. Even in the cases where the younger man had been kidnapped, Neal had always come back to him. Of course, there were a few close calls but no serious injuries.
This had been a wakeup call. It told him that the danger was closer than he had wanted to admit. Someone could have died and the fact that it was almost his CI scared him.
"Agent Burke," called the doctor, "A word please?"
Peter got up and walked towards the woman. El stayed at Neal's bedside. Her hands were holding on to the conman's. She was whispering to him.
"The CAT scans didn't reveal any lasting damage," the doctor informed him, "However, Mr. Caffrey has some worrying scars."
"What kind of scars?" he asked, concerned.
His mind was trying to figure out what the doctor was talking about. He remembered Neal absolutely refusing to take off his shirt around them. Even when getting wired up. The kid had always insisted on doing that part himself. There had been times that the young con was in a t-shirt and not his usual three piece suit. But even then, they couldn't see any scars. The only person who might know was Sara.
"The most worrying would be a close contact bullet scar to his shoulder," answered the doctor looking uncomfortable, "It appears to be at least a decade old. There are also whipping scars across his back roughly the same age. Agent I don't know what you know about his past but..."
Very little. Neal didn't like to talk about his past before he met Mozzie. Hell, Peter still didn't know how the two had met. All he knew was that Neal's father had been a cop and his mother had died when he was young.
Before Peter could ask more questions the door to the room was flung open. Neal was standing in the doorway. His eyes were darting all around the room. His stance was defensive and it was clear that he was in pain. The bandage on his head was red and Peter realized that the younger man had pulled out his IV.
Hazy blue eyes met his hazel ones for a brief moment. Then he turned on his heel and fled from the room. Peter didn't hesitate to chase after him.
"Neal, stop!" He ordered.
He didn't even pause in his run. Neal ducked and dodged through the nurses and doctors. It was almost a dance. Every movement had a counter. A nurse stepped in front of the con, he went left and slid between the wall and a cart.
Then he hits door to a stairwell. Without hesitation, the con was down the stairs and headed towards the first floor. There was no way Peter would be able to catch up to him. He dialed a familiar number.
"Diana," he called, "I need you to intercept Neal! He's heading down the eastern staircase."
"On my way, boss," Diana said immediately.
He could hear her moving and the sounds of other agents. Jones was probably on his way to help her. Peter carefully made his way down the stairs.
He reached the bottom right in time to see Jones go down. Diana was thrown into a wall and the alarms began to blare. Nurses were rushing to their aid and the doors were blocked by security guards.
Neal though, was gone. There was no sight of the young con anywhere. Dread filled him. Something was very wrong. Neal wouldn't have hurt his team. Not without good reason. So, what had happened to cause him to act like this?
Peter rushed to their sides. Diana was already sitting up. Jones had a nasty bruise forming on his chin, but the younger agent would be fine. They were both looking to the door. Neal had disappeared on the street and they wouldn't have a clue where he'd go. Especially since he didn't have his anklet on. He needed to call Mozzie.