The Problem with having the Best of Intentions

Neal and Mozzy made it into The Howser clinic successfully without incident. Separating on the second floor Neal found Dr. Wayne Powell's office and started his search for the documents that could prove he was not the paragon of virtue everyone thought he was. The file cabinet was too obvious and Neal had no time to figure out the password to the laptop but the briefcase under the desk looked promising. Picking the lock was easy and after a brief shuffle of the papers inside he found what he was looking for. A list of wealthy contributors and another of potential candidates with blood type and tissue matches. Unfortunately, security cameras in the office cut his time short and orderlies were on their way. With no time to lose, Neal grabbed the top sheet of paper and wrote the name "Jimmy Burger" on the top hoping that Peter would know. He rushed to the fax machine and dialed in Peter's home fax number. The fax only had time to send half before the orderlies seized Neal and stopped the transmission.

"Who are you and what are you doing in Dr. Powell's office?" the large orderly asked.

"I was just borrowing his fax machine." Neal replied.

The orderly and his partner held him and searched his pockets looking for ID. Once again they asked him who he was but Neal refused to say.

"I'll call Dr. Powell and you radio for a gurney." the large orderly said to his partner. " We'll hold him until we get an answer or The doctor decides what to do with him."

"Really you guys, this isn't necessary. I'll just go. Nothings missing. This is just a misunderstanding." Neal said, hoping that they'd let him leave.

"I don't think so, you won't tell us who you are or why you're here. Let's get you comfortable. This may take a while."

They took his glasses, removed his tie,lab coat and cufflinks. It was then that they noticed his anklet and asked what that was for. Neal just stared at them and wouldn't answer.

A nurse brought in a gurney with restraints and they quickly had him subdued. Neal was starting to wonder if Peter had gotten his fax.

Neal heard the orderly on the phone. "He was in your office." the orderly said. Neal had no idea what was being said on the other end of the call.

"He won't say. But he has some kind of tracker on his ankle and he was going through your files. We figured you'd want to know before we involve the authorities, ." The last thing Neal needed was the cops to be involved. This would put Peter in a bind with Hughes and probably send him back to prison. Not good.

"Understood." the orderly replied and hung up. "Dr Powell wants to calm our guest down before he gets here. Barbara, you can take care of this, right?"

Neal started to worry. What did they mean "calm him down?" He had decided to cooperate in the hope that they would leave him alone long enough to pick the locks on the restraints. It wasn't like he was fighting them, even when they brought in the gurney. Frankly, he thought they would just lock him in a room. He never imagined that they would tie him down and drug him. Barbara returned with a tray. He'd never seen a syringe with such a long needle on it. "This will help you relax." she said. Neal felt the pinch and the cold liquid. He said, "Hope you have something fun in there nurse Ratchet." His world started closing in as the seditive started to work.

Dr. Powell arrived to the clinic not long after and met up with his assistant Melissa Calloway. "Whats going on doctor?" she asked.

"All right, someone got into my office. The orderlies have got him locked down so we can question him. Now I want to find out who he is and if he took anything, all right?"

"No problem, I'll get right on it." she replied.

Melissa heard singing as she approached Powell's office. Someone was singing a very different rendition of "Love is a many splendored thing." When she opened the door she was very suprised to see Dr. Leonard Parker. Now why would he be breaking into her boss's office? He seemed to be quite out of it and obviously responsible for the singing. Neal stopped when she came in the door.

"Hey Ms. Calloway! Nice to see you again..." Neals voice died off and he seemed to be dozing. Melissa came over and started to question him. It took some effort to keep him awake.

"Dr. Parker, what are you doing here? Dr. Parker!"

"Who's Dr. Parker? Oh, thats s'posed to be me! Sorry, I forgot. Don't tell anyone" he flashed her a grin and chuckled.

"If you're not Parker, then who are you and why do you have a tracker on your ankle?" she asked.

"Shhhhhh, it's a secret. Can I trust you? Peter is the only one I trust. But you like Peter so I guess that makes you ok. I'm Neal and me and Peter are FBI. I was checking out Dr. Cranberry juice for a friend of mine. Looks like he has a need that can't be fulfilled by regular channels. Ohh...I feel woozy." Neal tried to sit up and thought better of it when his head started spinning. "Why am I telling you this? I need to shut up..." His eyes shut and he dozed again.

Melissa was shocked as the FBI had sent a financial inquiry just yesterday. She never thought that they would send in undercover agents. She needed to talk to so they could decide what to do. In the mean time she would send Neal to the third floor lock up. Calling the orderlies, they packed up all evidence of the intruder and took him away.

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Peter and El left for work together that morning and never heard the fax machine turn on. Sachmoe did and when the copy dropped to the floor he did what all dogs do. He decided to chew on it. Peter would never know Neal needed his help.

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Strange noises. Bright lights. Cotton mouth. He tried to open his eyes but shut them quickly. Ohhh what a headache... Neal tried once again to open his eyes but this time he braced for the pain. He was still on the gurney and he was in a different room this time. There were no windows in this one and the ceiling was solid. Still, he wasn't going to stick around. The straps that they used on him were loose and he carefully maneuvered to get to his belt. He could use the tongue of his buckle as a lock pick, if he had enough time. His head was feeling funny and it hampered his attempt. He certainly didn't like the drug's effects. Taking a deep breath he managed to get the belt undone. Pulling the belt out of the loops was going to be tricky. While he was concentrating, the door opened and in walked Dr. Powell.

"Well, if it isn't my good friend Dr. Parker. Oh, wait, no it's Neal. Ms. Calloway tells me you are with the FBI and that just will not do. But I'm thinking that since you have a tracker, you are definitely not an agent. So, who are you? Exactly." Powell asked.

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage at the moment. No, I'm not an agent but I'm quite a valuable asset and when the Marshalls find I'm missing they'll know just where to find me. It would be worth it to you to let me go." Neal stated.

"Your tracker will be no problem for us." Powell said. He walked to the foot of the gurney and pulled a key from his pocket. "I'll take the tracker for now and make sure that is gets to the right people." He removed his anklet and snapped it together. He then walked over and removed Neal's belt. "Can't have you harming yourself with this, now can we? You just sit tight and I'll have the staff come in and make you more comfortable and a bit more compliant." Powell left the room only to be replaced by two burley orderlies. Neal knew he was in big trouble.

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Peter waited patiently for Neal to show up to work. He kept watch on the clock and when it got to be an hour past he started getting concerned. He called his cell but it only went to voice mail. He then looked up the info on his anklet. It showed that he had left his residence early that morning and went to the Howzer Clinic. It looked like he stayed for a while but then he left. As he watched, Neal went outside his 2 mile radius. Now why would he do that? Peter was sure that he would know soon enough, once the marshalls delivered him back to the office. All he had to do was wait.

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Neal was no match for the men who came in for him. They stripped him of his remaining clothing and had him dress in hospital scrubs. He was then taken to another room and strapped down once again. Barbara came in and started an IV. There were no locks to pick this time.

"Barbara, what's going to happen to me?" Neal asked softly.

"Dr. Powell can explain everything when he comes in. Don't worry, he'll take good care of you. I'm just going to make you more comfortable." she replied. She injected the port in his IV with more drugs.

Neal couldn't tell if he was awake or dreaming. There were people asking things and he was answering. Part of him kept saying "No, don't say anything!" but he wasn't sure if he was answering out loud or just thinking it. He needed to get control. He needed to get away. Where was Peter? He should be here. "Peter!" he shouted.

Dr. Powell took his time with Neal. Getting the information was slow. He kept mentioning Peter. He finally learned that his name was Neal Caffrey and that he was a CI for the FBI. No one from the bureau knew he was here. He had come on his own with a friend but his friend had left. As far as the information he was seeking, he was the only one who had seen it. In the end it looked like the feds didn't have anything on him. All he needed to do was bury this problem in the system and no one would be the wiser. He had already taken care of the tracker with the morning trash and he had pulled all the security footage from that morning as well. There was no record of Neal to be found at his clinic.

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Peter got tired of waiting for the marshalls and called to find out if they had Neal. Surprisingly, they had tracked him to the city dump and were digging through trash to find his anklet. Peter hung up and called his team together.

"Listen up! Neal is off his anklet. His last position was at the Howser Clinic. We need to get down there and search and ask questions. Maybe someone there saw him. Lets get moving!" Peter pulled out his phone and called June. Maybe she could call Mozzie and ask if he knew where Neal was. This was going to be a long day.

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Neal awoke in the dark. He was still restrained. The one thing that he needed was water and he was unsure if anyone would hear him if he called out. "Is anybody here? Can anyone hear me? I need some water, please..." the effort to speak was exhausting. He laid back and wondered if Peter was looking for him. He saw light as the door opened. Barbara was bringing in a water bottle. She turned on the light and gave him a small sip.

"Thank you. I'm just so thirsty." Neal said.

"The meds we gave you will do that. Take small sips, we don't need you getting sick." she said.

"What time is it? I have no idea how long I've been out of it. Is it still daytime?" Neal asked.

"It's early afternoon." she replied.

"I need to get in touch with my friend Peter. He'll probably be worried if I don't call him. We were supposed to meet this morning."

"Dr. Powell is taking care of everything. Nothing to worry about. We just need to get you well. The doctor has you scheduled for treatment this afternoon." she said.

"I'm not sick. I don't need help." Neal said gritting his teeth. He started struggling with the straps. "Let me go! I don't belong here!" he shouted.

Barbara pulled a syringe from her pocket. "Now, just calm down, I don't want to use this. You're going to need your strength for this afternoon."

Neal stopped struggling. He didn't need to lose control again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just upset. I'm not used to being helpless. Being tied down is new to me. I'll be good. He laid back and made a great effort not to seem scared. "So, what's wrong with me?"

"You have been diagnosed with Schizophrenia. You also are paranoid delusional." she stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, I guess that's good to know. I had no idea." Neal's heart was racing. He had to get free somehow. Time was running out.

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Peter and his team arrived at the clinic in minutes. Coming through the front door wasn't difficult until they tried to go to the second floor. They're highly paid security made sure to bar them until they were given the ok by the Doctors in charge. The team in the mean time were questioning the people in reception and the security guards as well. What Peter didn't know was that Powell had changed all personel from that morning. It was looking like a dead end. Neal registered as not in the building so searching for an escaped fugitive without a warrant wouldn't work. Peter was worried for Neal and left the building trying to think if he'd left anything or anybody out.

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Panic wasn't one of Neal's traits. Keeping calm, thinking things through and making a plan usually worked for him. His mind was a bit fuzzy and considering where he was, it didn't look like he would get a chance to recover his critical thinking skills any time soon. Peter was looking like a lost cause. He hoped that Mozzie would start looking for him soon.

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Peter came back to his office and sat. How could Neal be so reckless? He had already told him the story of Jimmy Burger and how that had went down. It was then that he noticed that there was an evidence bag on his desk and it had the anklet. There was a report stating that it was indeed Neal's and that it had not been cut. It had been keyed open. Unfortunately, it had been wiped clean. One more dead end. Feeling frustrated he decided to call El and let her know what was going on.

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El was just coming in the front door when Peter called. Satchmo was greeting her and she was juggling her phone and bags.

"It always happens when my hands are full, Satchmo, sit. Good boy. Hello?" she answered.

"Hi hon, It's me. I have some bad news." Peter said. "Neal's missing, he's off his anklet. I have a sneaking suspicion that he's in big trouble at the Howser Clinic and we can't get a warrant to get in."

"Why would he go off on his own there? You've just started investigating them?"

"Neal always has a problem with "due process" and I think he just wanted to speed things up." Peter said. "If you hear from Mozzie have him call me. Right now I think he's our only best hope of finding him."

"I'll give him a call myself. Hang in there, hon. We'll find him." El hung up and went into the living room. Satchmo was lying on the floor next to a pile of ripped paper.

"What did you do now? Look at this mess!" She leaned down to clean it up and found that it was a fax. There wasn't much left of it and it looked partial. There was a name written on the top portion "Jimmy Bur something." Maybe Peter would know who that was. She laid the pieces on the coffee table and went to call Mozzie.

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Dr Powell had quite a lot to lose. Thirty million to be exact. Neal Caffrey was a risk that he was not about to take. He needed to make this problem disappear but he was not a killer. Powell needed him out of the picture and he would use his skill and position to make it happen. He would have him transferred to one of his mental health facilities in the north as soon as he took care of a little memory problem. He started writing up the orders for "John Doe" confident that this would all be over in a couple of days.

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He had no idea that he had nodded off. Time was becoming irrelevent. Neal opened his eyes blinking back the darkness. He wanted to stretch as his arms were feeling stiff and cramped. Feeling around as best he could, he was looking for a flaw in the restraints. These had no obvious locks. They were attached to the bed and it left no room for movement. Neal thought maybe he could slip out of the straps. He started slowly twisting his wrist. The straps were webbed fabric with a padded lining. Webbing had no stretch and was perfect for this job. Neal just hoped the padding had enough give so he could slip his hand out. He was beginning to sweat from the effort. This actually was helping. He could feel his hand coming out of the cuff. Patience. He felt his hand slip. In the dim light of the room he searched for anything to use for defense all the while uncuffing his other hand and his feet. He removed the IV and paid no mind to the blood dripping down his arm. He was free and he needed to get out. He was still a bit dizzy but he found he could walk steady enough. He opened the door slightly and peered down the hall. To the right there was a nurses station with reinforced glass and a guard by the heavily barred door at the end of the hall. To his left there was an adjacent corridor and what looked like a supply closet. He waited for the guard to be occupied and slipped out of the room. Unfortunately the supply closet was locked. He made his way down the corridor looking for anything that might get him through the barred door. He finally found a laundry bin by one of the only open doors. There was a nurse changing the bedding in the room so Neal slipped into the bin and covered himself with the sheets. Once past the guards he should be able to find his way out.

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Peter was sitting at his desk running over the Marshall's report for the umpteenth time. There was a knock on his door and he was suprised to see Mozzie come in. Mozzie never came into the FBI building on purpose.

"Mozzie, am I glad to see you," Peter said worriedly.

"El called and said Neal is missing and off his anklet. I swear when I left him at the Howser Clinic he was just fine and on his way to Powell's office."

"Did you wait around for him to come out?"

"No, I was busy going through files that I took off the second floor. Maintenance was busy shredding them and I figured they wouldn't miss this particular batch. Besides, Neal is a very recourceful guy. He usually gets in touch with me in a day or two." He was starting to sound worried as well.

"This time I think he might have met his match." Peter said. "I'm going to need your help in getting into the clinic to look for Neal. Because of doctor, patient confidentiality we can't legally get into the facility. But you can."

"Consider it done. Besides Neal, is there anything else in there that you need?"

"Yeah, what Neal was going in after, proof of illegal funds and extortion." Peter said.

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The nurse finally came out and loaded the sheets into the bin. Neal kept very still waiting for the bin to start moving. It didn't. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. He had no way of knowing how long it would be before the bin was taken down to the laundry room. He crept up and looked out. No one was in the hall so he got out and went into the open room. This one had a window. Neal looked out trying to orient himself as to where he was. He was on the third floor at the back of the building. Neal started searching the room for anything useful. He found slippers in the closet and a robe. In the drawer of the nightstand he found sunglasses. Not exactly the best disguise but beggars can't be choosers. He left the room feeling more confident now that he was formulating a plan.

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Powell looked at his watch. It was time for John Doe's treatment. Getting up from his desk he made sure that his briefcase was locked. He needed a new place for his papers. Caffrey getting to them so easily made him change his mind on hiding things in plain sight. He grabbed his keys and locked his office as well. No need taking unnecessary chances.

When Powell got to the third floor he buzzed into the maximum security wing. He made sure that he had his loyal orderlies in attendance. No need to involve outsiders this late in the game. Barbara joined them and they went to Neal's room. Powell opened the door to find it empty.

"Where is he Barbara? I thought you had him secured and sedated?" Powell said keeping his voice down. Barbara noticed drops of blood on the floor. "This must be his. It might help us find him by following it."

Quietly, the left the room and tracked Neal's blood to the laundry bin. Barbara went into the open room and found the closet had been gone through and a robe missing.

"He shouldn't be hard to find. He's trying to blend in." she said.

"I think I know were he is. Let's go down to the common room. I bet he's hiding in there." Powell said with certainty.

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Neal managed to find the common room and slipped in unnoticed. There was a group of patients near the big window and a sofa that looked big enough for him to get behind if he had to. He made his way over and sat. The guy sitting next to him sleeping was wearing a fedora. That sure would add to his disguise. Neal reached over and took it. Putting it on, he got up and looked for an exit. The one thing about these places is all the bars and cage wire on everything. There was only one exit and that was the one he came in. He started back for the door when he saw and his goons come in. Pulling his hat lower on his head he tried to mingle. He was trying to maneuver so he could get to the door as they entered into the room. He was almost there when Barbara walked in and she had no problem recognising him.

"Here he is Dr. Powell!" she cried.

Neal shoved her aside and ran out the door. The orderlies were behind him and he could hear them closing in. He rounded a corner but was tackled by a security guard. Within moments he was being held down and Barbara was there with more sedation. His vision dimmed and reality with it.

"Get him to the treatment room. I'm tired of dealing with him." Powell said disgustedly. "I want to get him transferred as soon as possible."

"Of course doctor." said Barbara.

Once again he was put on a gurney and wheeled away.

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Mozzie put on the maintenance jacket and blended into the background of the clinic. Grabbing some supplies he made his way up to the second floor so he could find Powell's office and hopefully some intel on where Neal was. As he approached the corridor he saw Powell leaving his office and locking it behind him. Mozzie smiled. This shouldn't be hard at all. Going to the door he got in with no trouble. Quickly, he went to the desk and searched the papers there looking for anything with Neal's name on it. The only thing on the desk was a transfer document for a "John Doe" who was scheduled to leave the next day. Mozzie then started looking for the paperwork that could bring Powell down. The file cabinet was too obvious. But that briefcase under the desk might hold something. He put it on the desk and picked the lock. Inside he found lists of doners. A veritable who"s who of the wealthy in the city. He also found lists of candidates with blood types and tissue matches. He stashed the lists in his coat. Putting the briefcase back, he left the office in search of Neal.

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Neal opened his eyes. Everything was out of focus. He felt dispair and hopelessness. He knew that whatever was going to happen next it might change his life forever. There was no rescue coming. No Peter. No Mozzie. Once again he was strapped down and helpless. Tears ran down his cheek. It was ok. He had tried but they were too strong for him. He heard someone come into the room. It was Barbara followed by the orderlies. Once again she re-established his IV as the orderlies started moving equipment into place.

"Why are you doing this? How can you go along with Dr. Powell?" Neal asked.

"He has done such good work. Someone like you coming in here tring to discredit his good name and reputation. I won't let that happen." she said with anger.

When Dr. Powell arrived he was all business. "Turn on the recorder, will you Barbara? This is patient John Doe. Diagnosed with Schizophrenia and paranoid delusions we find him to be out of control and violent. We will be administering ECT and a course of drug therapy to calm him and transferring him to our maximum security facility in Boston until further notice."

"Oh, no, no, no wait! Don't do this!" Neal cried. "Please, no!

Powell just smiled. Barbara came over and administered muscle relaxer while the orderlies applied the contacts. Powell came over with a rubber mouth guard and stood over Neal.

"Don't worry Mr. Caffrey, when this is all over you won't remember a thing, I promise." He shoved the guard into Neals mouth and had the orderlies hold Neal down.

Neal heard Powell hit the switch and the machine powering up. He strained to look and he saw the doctor push the button. Was this what it was like being struck by lightning? He felt his body convulse as everything faded to nothing.

Neal's body convulsed for about five minutes. When it ended he looked quite peaceful and relaxed. Powell checked him over and was satisfied. They cleaned him up and returned Neal to his room. Powell knew that his patient would sleep the night with no more problems. One more session tomorrow and he would send him on his way. He could then resume his business without anymore interference.

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Mozzie checked the second floor thuroughly. These were all business offices. It looked like there was a hospital on the third floor. He got in the elevator and came out with determination on his face. If Neal was on this floor he would find him. He started down the west end and casually looked into the rooms as he went by, Most of them were empty. As he traveled east there were a set of double doors that were reinforced and the title "Mental Health Ward" printed in the window. Mozzie peered in and saw a guard and a nurses station. As he looked down the hall he saw someone being wheeled to a room. When the orderlies turned into the room he saw Neal. He looked pale and he wasn't moving. Mozzie turned from the door, clasping his hand over his mouth. What had they done to his friend? Calming himself he tried the door and it was locked. The guard saw him and asked him what he wanted. Mozzie answered that there was a water pipe leaking somewhere and he was there to check it out for repair. The guard buzzed him in and Mozzie made his way down the hall making sure to look into the room that Neal was in. The orderlies were just finishing up strapping him down and checking his eyes with a pen light. Mozzie moved past the room and around the corner into the corridor. He needed to get Peter's help with this one. Moving Neal out alone was not an option. No telling what had been done to him. Mozzie looked down the hall and the guard went over to talk to the nurse. Silently, he crept down the hall and into Neal's room. He was lying there on the bed so still. His breathing seemed a bit shallow. Mozzie went to him and felt his pulse. It was steady. He then raised an eyelid to find them more dialated than usual. It was then that he noticed the slight burn marks on Neal's temples.

"Neal!" he whispered in his ear. "Wake up! We need to get you out of here!"

Neal didn't move. He really had a job done on him this time. Mozzie found it hard to leave his friend but he hurried back to the door and checked for the guard. Finding the guard still occupied he casually walked back to the barred door and said he would be back to fix the leak. As he left it took everything not to run.

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Mozzie made his way down to the back room on the main floor. He got his phone and called Peter.

"Hello, Peter? I found Neal and it's not good."

"Thank God! What do you mean it's not good? What's happened to him?"

"I found him on the third floor in the psyche ward. They were just bringing him back from some kind of treatment and he's unconsious. I tried to wake him but it's going to take more than me to get him out of here. I need your help." said Mozzie.

"I'll see if I can get Hughes to get a court order for us to search the place for a missing person. Being that Neal is a fugitive we can probably get one." Peter was feeling desparate. "Moz, how did he look to you? Do you think they hurt him?"

"Well, he looked really pale. I've never seen him like that before." Mozzie said. "Let's just get him out before they do."

"You stay put and keep an eye on Neal. I'll work things from this end. Even if we can't get an order, I'll do what it takes to get him out of there." Peter hung up and left his office to find Hughes.

wcwcwcwc He was on a balcony with a most impressive view of the chrysler building. The wind was a bit chilly but he could stand there just taking in the city. This was home. Closing his eyes he took in a deep breath. The smell of antiseptic tainted his memory. Opening his eyes he saw he was not home. What is this place? Why am I here? He tried to move but found he could not. He was having trouble remembering. He closed his eyes once again and fought for a reason he was in this predicament. Nothing. Within seconds his head started to pound. He saw flashes of light and the ringing in his ears became unbearable. Then he remembered. Helplessness, fear, the need to escape and then the shock. Searing pain and darkness. He wimpered. Tears came freely. He heard a door open and then he felt a soothing hand on his brow. "How do you feel?" said a familiar voice.

"I feel...I feel...I don't know. My head hurts. Do I know you?" he asked.

"Yes, it's me, Mozzie. We need to get you out of here. Peter is working on it now, so it shouldn't be much longer."

"Who's Peter? Who are you?" he was so confused.

"I'm your best friend and so is Peter. Neal, snap out of it, you're scaring me." Mozzie was working on the straps.

"what is this place? Do you know why I'm here?" Neal asked.

"Neal, you're freaking me out. Think, we came here together this morning. This is the Howser clinic and we were going to get the goods on Dr. Powell. This is all for June's grandaughter. Don't you remember?" Mozzie pleaded.

Mozzie finished releasing the straps and helped Neal to sit up. Neal was holding his head in his hands and rocking back and forth. Mozzie gently removed them and looked him over. He still looked ashen and it just highlighted the burn marks on his temples.

"Neal, why do you have these burn marks? Do you know how this happened?"

"What? Shock, it was shock...please don't let them hurt me again. I'll be good, I swear!" Neal curled up on the bed trying to look as small as possible. He clutched at the blankets shying away from Mozzie's touch.

That was it. Warrant or not, Peter had to come, right now. Mozzie took out his phone and called Peter.

"Peter, I'm with Neal and we can't wait any longer. He has no idea who I am and those sons a bitches gave him shock therapy! We godda go!" Mozzie was beside himself on what to do. Peter started to panic. How could it go this far? He needed an answer from Hughes now.

"I'll check on the warrant, No matter what the outcome I'll be down there in 20 minutes. I'll meet you at the back maintainance door. We're getting Neal out."

Peter rushed down to Hughes office. "Anything yet?" Peter asked. "No, nothing. Be patient, these things take time." Hughes answered.

"Well, we can't wait any longer. Mozzie says Neal has been given electroshock treatment and his memory is screwed up. It's time. I'm going down there to help Mozzie get him out." Peter turned and left.

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Neal wasn't sure what to do. He pulled the blanket over his head trying to block out the world that was so unfamiliar to him. Could he trust the man who released him? He didn't recognise his face but his voice was so familiar. Eventually it would come to him, he was sure. For now, getting out was his greatest wish. The man came over and said that he was going to leave for a short while and not to panic. He assured him he would be back very soon and to hang in there. Neal felt terror rising in his gut. He grabbed for the man. "Please don't leave me here! Please!" he begged.

"I'm not leaving. I just need to get help to get you out of here. I'll be back soon and then we can take you home, I promise. You need to promise me that you'll stay calm until I get back. Can you do that for me?" Mozzie hoped that no one would come in the room. If Neal stayed quiet there would be no problems.

"I can stay calm. I just don't want to be left alone. They could come back." Neal sank deeper into the covers.

"Tell you what, if you lie down on your back I'll pull the covers up over you so you look strapped down. Just relax and keep your eyes closed until me and Peter come for you. Can you do that?"

"I'm scared..." Neal whispered.

"I know, buddy." Mozzie laid a gentle hand on Neal's shoulder. Neal did as he was asked and Mozzie left the room.

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Peter wasted no time getting to the clinic. Jones had decided to go with him as back up and he was grateful for the support. Mozzie had left the maintenance door open and Peter and Jones had no problem slipping in. They found Mozzie gathering tools in the supply room. He greeted them with coveralls and had them change.

"These will have to do for now. I couldn't find any orderlie uniforms anywhere." Peter and Jones were doing a final check before they left the store room.

"Thanks Moz, these will do just fine. Lets get going. The quicker we get this done the better."

Mozzie was putting assorted tools into a large waste bin. Peter was curious as to how that was going to help Neal.

"Why the big trash can?"

"Oh, I figure the guard won't pay attention to a worker hauling a waste container in for a repair job. If we can get Neal to cooperate, we can sneek him out with no one the wiser." Mozzie smiled.

"Brilliant! Good thinking." With that they left.

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It was difficult for Neal to keep his eyes closed and be still. All he wanted to do was leave this place. Every sound outside his room kept him in fear. He wished his friend would return and make this all stop. When he shut his eyes he kept having flashes of searing pain and lightening. He wished he knew who did this to him. Try as he might, nothing came to mind. He did have a warm feeling when he dreamed of the terrace. It felt safe. There was someone there who cared about him. It had to be real. He was so intent on holding on to this memory he did't hear the door open.

Barbara came in to check on the patient. He was still sleeping but something seemed out of place. She came closer to the bed and noticed that the blankets were not tucked in. Kind of hard to undo the bed when the patient is restrained. Maybe the orderlies were careless when they brought him back to the room? Nevermind, the doctor was sure that he would sleep through the night. She turned and left.

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The guard at the mental health wing buzzed them in and really took no notice of the fact that there were now three to repair the leak. Mozzie directed them down the hall and around the corridor. Once there, the plan was to have one of them go down to Neal's room and hold the door while one distracted the guard and Mozzie brought the waste bin into the room. Jones went to distract and Peter and Mozzie went to retrieve Neal.

Peter didn't know what to expect when he entered the room. It was dim and as much as he wanted to go to his friend he had to get Mozzie and the bin in. It took a little time but Jones did his job well. Mozzie was in and it was time to get to work. Peter went to the bed and looked down at his friend. He was pale and he reminded him of a toddler faking being asleep. His eyes were screwed shut and he was holding his breath. Peter touched him gently and told him it was alright. Neal opened his eyes and looked at the new arrival. Neal thought, I know this man. "Peter?" Neal said softly. "Yes Neal, it's Peter and I've come to take you home." The words caught in his throat. "Lets get out of here, buddy."

"You're going to have to be very still and quiet in order for this to work, do you understand? We are going to put you inside the bin and sneek you out. It's essential for you to do this. Can you do it?" Mozzie asked.

"Yes." Neal said.

"OK, now Peter and I will help you. Don't stress yourself." Mozzie was worried that he wasn't strong enough and he was right. As he tried to get off the bed he collapsed and Peter caught him just in time. Lining the bin with the blanket and pillows they placed Neal carefully into the bin. All they needed now was another distraction by Jones to get out. Peter went to the door and looked out. Jones saw him and signaled that he was ready. Exiting the wing, he went to the nearest fire alarm and pulled it.

Within minutes they were blending with the patients and staff. Mozzie took them to the elevator and they got in unobserved as the guards were busy getting the patients down the stairs. Exiting into the basement, it was short work to get out the back and get Neal into the car. Peter sat in the back with Neal's head in his lap. He was falling asleep holding onto Peter's hand. The look on his face was that of contentment.

Jones put the car in drive and headed for the nearest hospital.

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Neal awoke to the smell of antiseptic. He didn't want to open his eyes. He feared that what had happened was just a dream and he was still trapped. He remembered Peter. Peter was his friend. But how did he know him?

"Neal? Are you awake? It's ok, you're safe now." said Peter.

With trepidation, Neal opened his eyes to see that Peter was sitting by his bed and that there was another familiar face with him. She was looking so worried and she picked up his hand and held it to her cheek.

"Neal honey, do you remember me?"

"I don't know... Are you with Peter? I should know you all but I don't." Tears started welling up in his eyes.

El got up and held Neal close and stroked his hair. "Shhhhhh, we're here to help you. I'm Peter's wife, Elizabeth, you can call me El. We are very good friends and we will get through this together." she reassured him. Neal could almost remember being with her. He recognised her smell and her very blue eyes. "Thank you El." Neal said.

Peter then asked if Neal knew why he was at the Howser Clinic. At his point in time, he was drawing a blank. Peter reminded him of Dr. Powell and how he was taking advantage of kidney patients. Neal suddenly remembered June and how her grandaughter was in need. This is not to say that everything came flooding back to him but it gave him hope.

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The sun was shining brightly and there was a light breeze blowing. He was standing on the terrace with a cup of Italian roast. It smelled wonderful and the cup was warm in his hand. It had been several weeks since his ordeal and at least today he knew who he was. It had taken time and patience to get him to this point. However, he was just where he dreamed he belonged. This was truly home. Neal heard a knock on the door and in walked Peter his best friend. He finally remembered him with Elizabeth's help and it came back to him as if it was never gone. The doctors at the hospital said that if he had been given more shock that the memory loss could have become permanent. He would always be grateful to Mozzie and Peter for coming back to get him. He remembered the story of Jimmy Burger and vowed never to get in over his head again. This was a hard lesson learned. Neal walked back into his apartment to greet his friend.

"So, Peter, what's going to happen to Powell now?" Neal asked.

"Glad you asked." Peter smiled. "We have the good doctor charged with kidnapping, assault, multiple counts of extortion and his assistant came clean about his secret off shore account. He had much to lose by having you snooping around, about 30 million in total. All in all a job well done. Except the kidnapping and you almost becoming a vegatable."

Neal hung his head and closed his eyes. "Peter, from now on I swear I'll try and go by the book. If I falter, just remind me of Jimmy Burger again. That I Promise I'll never forget."

Peter came over and clapped him on the shoulder. "Will do buddy, now let's get back to work."

Fin