elrhiarhodan

Title: Return and Rebuild the Desolate Places – Chapter Twenty-Five
Author: elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke, Mozzie, Reese Hughes, Clinton Jones, Diana Berrigan, Olivia Benson (L&O: SVU), Section Chief Bruce (McKinsey) Original Characters
Spoilers: White Collar, all of Season 5; no specific spoilers for L&O: SVU, but set in Season 15. No spoilers for Season 6, A/U from S5 finale forward.
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Kidnapping, torture (off-camera), rape (off-camera),
Word Count: This chapter – ~2100
Beta Credit: sinfulslasher
Story Summary: Six months after Neal disappears, Peter still has no answers and his decision not to go to Washington has had significant repercussions for both his career and his marriage.
Chapter Summary: Neal gets ready for one more journey – home. And the preparations are not easy.

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Previous Chapters: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four |



A/N: Title from Alan Hovhaness’ wind concerto, which takes it from the Old Testament. New chapters will be posted to my LJ every Thursday and to the relevant communities on Fridays.


Art by kanarek13



Sometime in Late January – Friday Afternoon

“You’re all set, Mr. Caffrey.” The nurse fitted the knitted sleeve over his arm and adjusted it so that the IV port didn’t snag. “There are instructions on how to care for the PICC line in your discharge papers, but do you have any questions?”

Neal felt a little woozy and didn’t answer. He felt strangely free, too. The last piece of medical equipment – his IV – had been disconnected.

“Mr. Caffrey? Are you okay?” The nurse leaned over him.

“Yeah – yeah. I’m fine. Do I have any questions?”

She nodded. “Do you?”

“Bathing?”

“Shower only, and put on the waterproof sleeve.” She pointed to the package left on the bedside table. “And don’t take long showers or very hot ones. You’ve still got incisions that are healing and those will need to be kept dry, too. If your arm aches, use a heating pad. And of course, if it starts to swell, or the port site become red and tender, you’ll need to come in and have it checked out. It might be infected.”

“Ironic – I have to have this because I need antibiotics and the line itself might give me an infection.”

The nurse made a face. “Yeah, medicine can kill you if you’re not careful. Someone will be in with your discharge papers in a little bit. Do you want me to help you get dressed?”

“Helps to have some clothes.” He plucked at the hospital gown. “This is all I’ve got.”

“Really? Didn’t your wife bring you your clothes?” The nurse looked over at the small piece of luggage Elizabeth had parked next to the chair.”

“Oh, no – she’s not my wife. Just a good friend who’s in from out of town.”

“Okay – let me see what I can scrounge up for you. You can’t leave with your junk flapping around. It’s a little chilly for that.”

Neal chuckled. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want to scare the tourists.”

“Maybe we have some scrubs and some booties for you, let me check.”

“Not necessary.” Peter was standing in the door, holding several bulging shopping bags. “It’s all taken care of.”

The nurse snorted and said something about good timing and left.

Peter tossed the bags on the bed and loomed over him, looking exasperated. A familar expression, to say the least. “Your doctor called me.”

Elizabeth wedged between her husband and the bed and dropped another bag. “Peter, don’t get aggravated. Neal had his reasons for not saying anything.”

Peter sighed and looked at Elizabeth with utter love and happiness that Neal felt himself starting to tear up. Elizabeth might have confessed to deep problems in her marriage with Peter, but something wonderful must have happened between them in the half-hour she’d been gone from his room. Then Peter's gaze turned back to Neal, his eyes searching and seeing so much.

After all this time, Neal should have been used to that look and been able to summon a smile that was both his best weapon and his best defense, but he couldn’t. “Sorry. It’s just…”

The look in Peter’s eyes softened, filled with understanding for everything that Neal didn’t want to say.

He looked away and plucked at the bags Peter’d dropped on the bed. “What’s this?” That was a silly question, since Peter had already said that he’d brought him clothes. But he hadn’t expected to find a fleecy sweat shirt with the New York Giants logo emblazoned across the back.

“There are matching sweatpants, too.” Peter grinned and Neal couldn’t help but respond to his delight.

“You’re evil, you know that.”

“Actually, you can thank Agent Carter – he went shopping.”

“But you told him what to buy, right?”

Peter shrugged, still smiling. “I might have mentioned that you’d be cheered up by your favorite sports team.”

Elizabeth pulled the rest of the clothes out of the bags. There were the promised matching sweatpants, as well as a puffy coat and warm socks that also sported the team logo. And a knit hat. “I like the Giants.”

Neal couldn’t help but remember a conversation he’d had with Peter. It was the very first time they’d really talked. He’d been trying to find a way into Peter’s head, trying to figure out how to make their deal work, knowing that it would be a lot easier to break loose if he knew where to find the chinks in Peter’s armor. So he’d asked, “Big plans for the weekend?”

Thinking about it now, Peter had probably known what he was trying to do, and was playing along, casually replying, “Oh, you know, I gotta fix the sink, catch the game.”

That had given Neal the in he’d needed. “With Elizabeth?

And Peter stepped right into the trap. “Yeah, yeah, she's into it. How cool is that? She likes to watch the Giants.”

“Uh-huh. Even on your anniversary?” What came after was the start of a friendship that had alternately thrived and fallen on life-support and now seemed as strong as ever. Neal picked up the fleece and brushed his fingers across the logo. “Yeah, I know you do.”

A knock on the door distracted him, and Peter and Elizabeth stepped away from the bed. The visitor was a stranger. “Mr. Caffrey?”

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Renata – your discharge manager. We just have some paperwork to go over before you can get out of here.”

She pushed aside the clothing that had piled up on the table and opened a folder and flipped through the papers before handing it to him. “Your doctors left a lot of instructions. Do you want me to go over this with you?”

Neal looked at the papers. “I think I can read through them.”

“Okay. You have a visiting nurse who will be by twice a day to check your bandages and get your IV antibiotics going. When you get home, call this number – ” Renata took the papers back and pulled out the sheet from the visiting nurse service, “to set up your first appointment.”

Neal nodded.

“And you have a list of referrals for physical therapy, respiratory rehabilitation and for psychotherapy.”

Neal nodded again, but he was starting to feel overwhelmed.

“There’s a list of medications and prescriptions. We didn’t call them in because you didn’t provide a pharmacy.”

The woman kept talking but her voice became an annoying buzz until Peter cut her off. “I think we can manage from here. Is there anything that Neal has to sign?”

“No. Mr. Caffrey’s a crime victim, so the city will cover his hospital bill. Everything else is in the folder. Someone from outpatient services will follow up with him over the next few days.” She handed the folder back to Neal, but Peter intercepted it. “You’re a free man, Mr. Caffrey. Take care and feel better.”

Silence filled the room after Renata left.

Elizabeth took charge. “Okay, let’s get you dressed.” She unpacked the rest of the clothes. “At least the underwear doesn’t have any logos on them.”

She opened a package of plain white Hanes y-fronts and handed him a pair.

Neal sat there and blinked. “Uh, Elizabeth?”

“What’s the matter, sweetie?”

Neal bit his lip and looked at her. “I – um – ”

Peter, thankfully, understood. “I think Neal would like to get dressed.”

“And what’s stopping him?”

“You, hon.”

Neal almost laughed when Elizabeth blushed bright red. “Ah, okay. I’ll just be out here – ” She pointed towards the hallway. “Waiting.”

She shut the door and Peter pulled the curtain around the bed. “Just in case anyone walks in.”

“Um – would you mind?” He wanted Peter to leave, too.

“Neal – ”

Sick and suddenly ashamed, he whispered. “Please go. I can manage.”

Unlike Elizabeth, Peter didn’t retreat. “Do you want me to call someone or do you want me to help?”

Neal took a deep breath, as deep as the limits of his damaged lungs would allow. “You’d think, after more than a week in the hospital, being poked and prodded by all sorts of strangers, I’d be okay.”

In an instant, a multitude of expressions crossed Peter’s face. Shock, concern, shame. But thankfully, not pity. That would have been unbearable. Peter repeated his offer. “I can get an aide, if it would be easier for you.”

“No – I don’t think so. I trust you.” Neal chuckled, the humor a touch bitter. “You’re the only one I trust. I don’t think that will ever change.”

Peter gasped and Neal didn’t understand why. Nor did he understand why Peter looked as if he was about to cry. He asked, “What do you want me to do?”

But he didn’t want to be naked in front of Peter, he didn’t want Peter to see what had been done to him. “Can you sit behind me? I don’t want you to see me.” Neal wasn’t sure how he managed to admit that. “I – just -”

Peter understood. “Whatever you need, Neal.”

He could do this.

Peter was fussing with another package – of tee shirts. “Can you manage getting this over your head?”

“I think so.” And then Neal realized that he’d have to strip off the hospital gown. He sat there, holding the tee shirt. The slight stiffness of the clean and new cotton felt like a precious luxury.

As Neal had asked, Peter sat down so he was behind him, and undid the ties which kept the hospital gown closed. It slid down Neal’s shoulders and came to rest on his forearms. He shivered and lifted his hands so the gown fell off completely. Peter took the tee shirt from him, and as if he was a small child, put one arm through, then the other – and then carefully maneuvered the shirt until it covered his torso.

Peter tried to save his dignity. “Can you manage the shorts?”

Neal considered the logistics. He couldn’t bend over, but he was able to bring his legs up and get them into the underwear. Peter helped pull them up and over his hips, and although Neal couldn’t see his face, he was certain that Peter was looking at something other than his wasted frame, that he wasn’t mapping the new geography of his body – not only the loss of muscle, but the flesh damaged by six months of torture. He shivered again, his body flinching against the memory of whips and fists and boots.

The memory receded as a familiar hand rested lightly on his shoulder. “You all right?”

Neal tried to answer, but if he said yes, it would be a lie. And he didn’t lie to Peter. The best he could come up with was, “I will be.”

“Good. That’s all you can ask for.”

Peter handed him the bright blue sweatpants and then, in a move that embarrassed the hell out of him, got on his knees and put warm socks on his feet. But Peter found a bit of levity when he slid a pair of sneakers on him. “Knowing your shoe size finally came in handy.”

Neal had to laugh. It was either that or cry. He stood up, feeling both incredibly weak and stronger than he had since the day he’d stormed away from Peter, only to find himself in a hellhole worse than anything he could ever have imagined.

Peter looked around the room. “Where’s my cell phone?”

Neal opened the drawer to the bedside cabinet and took out Peter’s phone and the one that Mozzie had given him. Of course, Moz wouldn’t want it back, but there was no point in leaving it behind. “Thanks.”

Peter pocketed the phone and looked like he wanted to ask him a question. Neal could figure that one out pretty easily – Why didn’t you call and tell me you were released? Why won’t you let me help you?

But Peter didn’t ask. He just picked up the fleece and held it out for Neal to put on. It zipped up the front, and he managed to put it on himself – although he was panting from exhaustion by the time he’d finished.

Finally, there was the horrible puffy coat with “New York Giants” emblazoned across the front and the back. Neal looked at it in slight horror.

“It’s ten degrees out there, Neal. You never have to wear it again.”

Once upon a time, he might have made a quip about rather being dead than wearing something so hideous, but since he’d been almost dead a little more than two weeks ago, he said nothing and put the garment on.

“I guess I’m ready.”

Peter gave him a sharp, satisfied nod. “I think you are. Time to go home.”

TO BE CONTINUED
Go to Chapter Twenty-Six