Title: Forged Friendships

Author: SK Musings

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Drama

Status: Work in Progress

Characters: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, June, Mozzie, OFC - Violet

Warnings: Medical Reality

Rating: T

Spoilers: Set 1 year after the first season ender

Summary: Peter was positive that Neal had overslept.

Disclaimer: White Collar and the characters borrowed for this story are the creative property of Jeff Eastin. This story was written and shared on solely for the enjoyment of other White Collar fans. No copyright infringement is intended.

Forged Friendships

Chapter 1 – Rule Breakers

Elizabeth slid forward in her chair and leaned her arms against the bedside railing supporting her head with her hands. At least, having Neal within her view provided some sense of comfort and control. Elizabeth turned and looked over at her husband's empty chair shaking her head. It was inevitable that he was back on the phone again. She shifted her gaze back toward Neal and thought about how he could always make her laugh, his charming smile that melted boundaries and his vulnerable romantic heart. She couldn't help but speculate that Fowler may be at the root of this attack. Neal had suffered a tremendous loss at the hands of that vile man and was barely beginning to escape from the depression that had invaded his heart. The past year had taken a huge toll on the young man and now he seemed so pale and thin, almost frail to her.

She shifted her weight in the chair and tucked her foot up under her other leg, trying to relax but her turbid mind kept returning to the events of the past morning. Finding Neal's snow covered body lying face down on the cold cement of their front porch; a pool of blood streaming from a gash on the back of his head, staining the porch step. She drew in a gasp of frigid air, followed by that sensation of forgetting to breathe as she shouted upstairs for Peter, while frantically dialing 911. Satchmo was barking and circling between her and the doorway, nudging at his Neal's shoulder with his muzzle but Neal remained still and lifeless. How much worse would it have been for Neal, if Satchmo hadn't awakened her at such an early hour?

FBI Agent, Peter Burke had been on the phone most of the day working with his team as they attempted to pull threads together to reconstruct some reason for the brutal attack. So far, there weren't any plausible leads. It was getting late but Peter decided to check in again. "Jones, have you gotten anywhere with the files on Caffrey's desk?"

"We've been combing through them but none of these cases seem to fit with this sort of violence. I did go downstairs to check on some samples that Neal had taken to the lab for analysis. Cameron confirmed that they were just routine residue tests and that Neal was just delivering them for Cruz." Jones mindless flipped through the file in front of him. "I'm not sure if this is of any import"

Peter cut him off mid sentence; his patience had lapsed hours before. "At this point any little thread might lead to an answer. Go!"

Jones raised an eyebrow and shook his head, knowing fool well that Peter was an emotional wreck even if he wouldn't admit it. "Well, last week for some reason Neal seemed to have an interest in the new micro FTIR that was being installed in the lab. The techs said he'd been stopping in the past few days and even ate lunch with them on Wednesday."

"What's the interest?" Peter wrinkled his forehead. What was Neal doing hanging out with the lab rats. "Did someone new start down there? Is there some new attractive techie geek on his radar?" Peter leaned against the wall outside the ICU toeing at a corner of broken floor tile.

"No, no one new and from what I could see … well … they don't exactly seem like Neal's type."

"You said they got in a new test instrument. What exactly does this thing do?" Peter was now further down the hall and pacing as he spoke.

"Not sure but I'll find out. Oh, one other thing. Cameron did say that Neal took the technical sales rep out for lunch on Thursday."

"Great, see what you can dig up on that rep and what that new instrument is capable of testing." He slid his phone shut and started back down the hall toward Neal's room, pushing an extra chair.

Peter hated hospitals, the smell, the noises, the pastel colored walls, the awful waiting room art but mostly he hated that feeling of helplessness. He desperately wanted to leave the hospital and go to the office where he could do some good but his conscious wouldn't allow it. He couldn't leave until he was certain that Neal was going to pull through. Peter approached the bedside and placed his arm around his wife's shoulder giving her a slight squeeze and a kiss on top of the head. His fingers fidgeted, twirling a strand of El's hair as he was fumbling for something to say.

"You know, he has no idea how much paperwork he is costing me. The whole staff is on overtime, not to mention the cost of yet another tracking anklet. I told the ER nurse to leave it on him. I really didn't think it would have electrocuted him. After all, he showered with it. Man! Did I take some nasty looks for that comment."

Elizabeth stared up at Peter in disbelief.

"Yeah, a look, just like that." Peter ran a nervous hand through his hair and down over his face. "Do you think he is in pain? It doesn't seem like it. Does it?" He crossed his arms over his chest and inhaled deeply, "Dammit, Neal what did you do this time?"

Elizabeth saw the bewilderment in Peter's eyes. Standing, she embraced her husband and whispered, "It's going to be okay." then guided him back to his chair. Peter sat down and left his head fall forward into Elizabeth's hands as she gently massaged his temples for a few minutes.

Elizabeth returned to her chair at Neal's bedside while Peter pushed his chair into the corner of the room, propping his feet on the extra chair. Within a few minutes the rhythmic clicking of the IV pump had lulled him to sleep.

A pain radiated up Elizabeth's back from the uncomfortable position she had chosen and she shifted again in her seat stretching the taught muscles. How long had she been staring at the floor or had sleep crept in betraying her vigil?

She lifted her head and gazed over at Neal's face. His bruised and swollen cheek pushed his right eye closed distorting his handsome features. It was impossible for her not notice how the white pillowcase against his skin accentuated his deathly pale complexion. All the scrapes and bruises were just a frightening indication of just how much brutality his body suffered.

Just then, a tear dropped onto Elizabeth's arm making a wet spot on her sleeve. She reached her hand through the maze of tubing and hesitantly stroked back a few stray hairs from Neal's brow. Shocked, she retracted her hand, as she realized that his hair was stiff with dried blood.

How could someone do this to Neal? She gently clasped her hand over his fingers and laid her head back down on her arm supported by the bedside rail. It was 2:41 am. A full 24 hours had passed and Elizabeth drifted back to sleep.

Vanessa, the night nurse entered the room carrying several syringes in her hand. "I am sorry, Mrs. Burke. I didn't mean to wake you but I need to check Mr. Caffrey's chest tube."

The small nurse easily slipped in between the bed and all the monitoring equipment. Pausing for a moment her eyes quickly scanned the vital signs on the display above her head as she placed the pink stethoscope hanging from her neck into her ears. She leaned in over the railing and placed the scope against Neal's chest. His breathing was shallow and slightly labored, as the RN listened intently.

Vanessa drew her eyebrows into a frown as she stretched to reach a gauge protruding from the wall behind the bed. A quick flick with her fingers sent the little silver ball inside the gauge bouncing upward as she released a coil of tubing. Elizabeth quietly watched as the nurse positioned the nasal oxygen tube carefully around Neal's head.

Standing up, Vanessa lifted back the edge of the gown that draped Neal's body exposing more severe bruises. Her hands gently examined the tube protruding from the bandages on Neal's right side. She looked over at Elizabeth as she tucked the edge of gown back into place.

The pleasant dark haired nurse had scooted in and out of the room numerous times that night but this was the first time she seemed unhurried enough to speak. "He is holding his own."

As she knelt down on the floor, she examined the metered vessel that was collecting fluid that drained from Neal's chest. Standing up, she wrote some numbers on the back of her hand. Vanessa turned the patient ID band on Neal's wrist and then glanced again at the syringes that she had retrieved from the bedside table. "Are you Mr. Caffrey's Sister?"

"No, I am just a close friend. He is my husband's partner." Elizabeth paused for a second. "Neal doesn't have any family." It was a small lie but she hoped that she would get more information with that statement.

"Your husband is a police officer?"

"No, he is an FBI agent."

Vanessa's gaze turned back down toward her patient. It was obvious that she felt sincerely concerned for the young man. "His body is still putting out a lot of drainage through the chest tube. It is going to take some time for his lung to heal. This medication is a steroid that will help with the healing process."

She finished injecting the drug into the IV port and then began digging in her lab coat pocket for a small flashlight. Lightly resting her hand on Neal's forehead, she lifted open one swollen eyelid and then the other examining the reaction of his pupils to the light. "He has a nasty gash on the back of his head. It took over 30 stitches to close it."

Vanessa paused for a short moment with the realization that she was definitely breaking patient confidentiality. However, she sensed that these might be the only people who genuinely cared about this young man. "I am not sure how much information the doctor was willing to give you." She said, as she walked past the foot of the bed stopping to check the pulse in Neal's ankles.

In Vanessa's mind, she was doing the right thing by sharing the information with Elizabeth. All too often, she had observed the cruel indifference shared among many "real" families. However, there was Mrs. Burke in uncomfortable chair feeling exhausted, anxious, and still willing to give all of her strength and being to this friend. The empathy expressed on Elizabeth's face was obvious. This young man was more than just her husband's co-worker. He was someone she loved and trusted with her husband's life every day.

Vanessa walked over to where Elizabeth sat and crouched next to her placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It is going to be a long road for Mr. Caffrey. He sustained many internal injuries stemming from the blunt force trauma of his assault. Do you want me to explain his injuries to you?"

Elizabeth curled her lips over her teeth and numbly nodded her head. Vanessa clasp Elizabeth's hands. "He sustained a serious concussion, a broken collarbone along with 4 broken ribs. One displaced rib punctured and collapsed his lung. The tube in his side is helping keep his lung inflated. He ruptured his spleen, and lacerated his liver. The surgery was to stop the internal bleeding. While you can live without a spleen, it is fortunate that the surgeon could save the organ. You are most likely aware that he did suffer a great deal of blood loss and has been given 4 units so far." Vanessa paused realizing that the long list of injuries was startling to hear. "He also has a broken left leg that will require another surgery to pin it."

Elizabeth began to tremble and tears streaked down her cheeks. "Please tell me, is he going to be alright?"

Vanessa grabbed the small box of tissues from the nightstand and placed it in Elizabeth's lap, handing her one. "I know it all sounds overwhelming and I won't lie to you. Mr. Caffrey is still listed in critical condition. But he is doing very well considering the extent of his injuries."

Elizabeth attemped to regain her composure, "You could get in trouble for telling me this. Couldn't you?"

Vanessa nodded, "Yes, but I feel you deserved to know what is ahead for your friend."

"Neal would like you … you're a good rule breaker."

"You and your husband should go home and try to get some rest. It is not likely that he will regain consciousness anytime tonight and maybe not even tomorrow. He is heavily sedated."

Elizabeth lowered her eyes and shook her head, "No, we can't take the chance of him waking up in a strange place all alone."

"I understand." Vanessa smiled reassuringly turning off the overhead light as she left the room.