A/N: Alright, I just wanted to say thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has read this far. I've had some crazy times while I've been writing this, and it's just gone to show me that I'm much better off when I prewrite more. It's also much better for you guys! But your support and your patience has been so amazing, and I wanted to thank all of you in a more tangible way. Anyone who reviews this last chapter, anonymously or signed in, can send a prompt for a little White Collar drabble. It be a sentence, a situation, even just a word or a character. I'll be putting them all into one fic as I write them, and since it's summer, they won't take two months to write this time around. Once again, you guys are so great. And White Collar was amazing tonight! Finally back on top as far as writing goes. So, long note over. Enjoy the last chapter!

Elizabeth felt herself drifting toward the surface of something, a light shining brightly just outside her eyelids. She let out a small "mmph," and her eyes opened slowly.

"Elle?" A voice asked, worry and relief mixing into it.

"Yeah?" Her throat was dry, and it hurt to make the word come out. Blinking a few times to adjust to the light, she saw Peter sitting right next to her, holding her hand gently.

"Elizabeth, you're awake," he said, standing and pressing a feather-light kiss to her nose. "I was so worried about you. It's so good to have you back."

She smiled gently, pushing herself up onto the pillows and exhaling gently. "What's happened?"

"You feel asleep while we were waiting for the police," her husband said, smiling fondly. "Davin and his friends have all been arrested, and everyone else has gotten treatment."

Elizabeth nodded slowly, trying to take everything in. "What about Colette?"

"She's probably going to face a few more mild consequences," Peter said, his expression turning slightly sad. "She was very cooperative and helpful, but she did still help them."

"But she didn't want to!" Elizabeth protested, leaning closer to her husband.

"I know that," Peter said, pressing her back down. "We'll see what comes of it."

Sighing, she nodded. "Okay." She smiled again, looking at Peter happily. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Peter said, sitting forward and kissing her softly. Elizabeth returned the kiss wholeheartedly until something occurred to her and she pulled back, gasping.

"What? Did I hurt you?" Peter asked, his eyes widening.

"No, no, I'm fine," Elizabeth said. "But... where's Neal? Is he okay?"

Peter's chest heaved in a sigh and he sat back down. "Neal... Neal was in pretty bad shape. He has a couple of broken and bruised ribs, something's wrong with his wrist and one of his legs... I think the doctor said something about a fractured... something else. And there was the stab wound, of course."

Elizabeth bit her lip, nodding. "But he's okay, right? He's going to make it and everything."

"Yes," Peter said, his brow wrinkling with stress. "He is. But he's still out, they have him on a bunch of drugs for the pain. The doctor was surprised he made it as long as he did without passing out from it."

"But that's just Neal for you," Elizabeth said, her chest tight as she thought of how ardently Neal had fought to protect her, to protect everyone.

"Yeah," Peter said, his voice quiet. "That's Neal for you."

"When can I go see him?" Elle asked.

"When the doctors say you can," Peter said, smiling slightly. Elizabeth leaned her head back against the wall, the cool paint soothing her headache.

"Have you spoken to him?" She asked.

"No, he's been asleep, like I said."

"So he's alone?" Elizabeth was horrified at the picture of Neal waking up abandoned in a hotel room.

"No, June is there," Peter said. "The kid has flitted in and out a couple times, he had to stick around so we could get his statement."

"What was his name again?" Elizabeth asked. Everything after she'd hit her head was fuzzy, especially the rescue itself.

"William Dalenci," Peter said. "He's thirteen or fourteen, he said, and he lives with his mom and two younger sisters about seven blocks from where you were being held."

"Hmm." She nodded, thinking. "He seemed like a nice young man."

Peter moved so that he was sitting next to her. "He is." He exhaled. "He's a lot like Neal."

xxxxx

Neal didn't come to a single time in the next two days. Considering his situations, the doctors said it was completely normal. That didn't stop them all from worrying. Peter nearly wore a hole in the floor and Mozzie was twitching even more than usual. Elizabeth tried to keep everyone calm, but she was just as concerned.

Please, Neal, she pleaded silently. Wake up soon.

xxxxx

For a long time Neal had been aware of voices around him, dim and jumbled. He hadn't had much sensation besides that, save for a constant pain that was just out of reach.

Finally, he was able to push himself out of whatever hole he was in and find the light, but when he found it, he half wished to go back down. A dull pain assaulted him, and the voices suddenly became clear.

"-waking up, look," Elizabeth said.

His eyelids were heavy, and it took him a moment to force them open, but when he did, he saw a circle of worried faces around him.

"Neal, dear?" June asked. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," Neal said, but it came out as rather a croak. He winced at the sound of it. "Anyone have... water?"

Elizabeth was quick to help, handing him a glass and helping him not spill (and if that made him feel a bit like an invalid, he was tired enough not to say so).

He tried to swing himself over to stand up, but sharp, stabbing pain erupted in several places all over his body, and he barely restrained a hiss.

"Hold still," Peter told him angrily. "You're in no condition to be standing."

Neal let his head go back against the pillow and frowned at the ceiling. He didn't remember having felt too much pain while they were escaping... Maybe it had been the adrenaline and the shock. Peter was just concerned, he knew, and he told himself not to snap back.

"Am I allowed to sit up?" He asked in a mock-repentant tone.

Peter gave him a dry look.

"I'll help you, sweetie," the nurse who had been in the circle said. "You don't want to tear those stitches." She gave him a sympathetic look and he returned it with the brightest smile he could muster. He saw Peter roll his eyes in the background and that just made his smile widen, even though he still wasn't sure where he and Peter stood.

When he was sitting up and the nurse was satisfied that he probably wasn't going to die anytime soon, she left them alone with strict instructions not to "bother the poor dear too much."

"Really, Neal?" Peter asked. "Do you have to be like this with every woman you meet?"

Neal shrugged. "If the shoe fits..."

"Right, what was I thinking," Peter said, rolling his eyes again. Neal hadn't realized how much he'd missed irritating the man until now.

They all fussed over him for a few moments (minus Peter, of course) and then Elizabeth shot looks between them and suddenly quick excuses were made.

"I need to-"

"-my grandaughter called-"

"I was supposed to go visit Rachelle-"

"I'm hungry."

Everyone gave Mozzie strange looks, but he shrugged. "The constant smell of bureaucracy, evil, and disinfectant puts me off my appetite, I want to go home and have something that doesn't taste of hospitals."

"I'll take care of that," June said graciously.

"I'll come with you to visit," Peter said to Elle, but she turned him around.

"Oh, that's alright. I wanted to see her alone anyway."

"But-"

"Peter."

"Have fun," he said grouchily, returning to stand by Neal.

Neal had watched this all in amusement, but once everyone else was gone, the silence was rather awkward.

"So," he said, coughing slightly. "How long was I out?"

"Two days," Peter said, nodding.

"Hm, interesting," Neal said.

"Yeah. It was an adventure."

"Sure was," Neal agreed.

They both started speaking at the same time, and both of them chuckled.

"You go first," Peter said.

"If you insist." Neal gave a slightly teasing smile before growing serious. "Peter, I don't... I don't remember some of what happened, so I don't know if I already told you this but... I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep Elizabeth safe, and that I let everything get so far off track from where it should've been. I didn't... I didn't do my job. I failed you." His voice grew quiet at the end, and he bit the end of his tongue.

"Always so dramatic," Peter said lightly. "I should've gone first. Neal, we did go over this. And I don't blame you." He looked down at the ex-con firmly. "At all. You did the best anyone could expect out of you and you got everyone back alive. That's a miracle in and of itself."

Neal just shrugged silently, still not meeting Peter's eyes.

"I mean it, Neal," Peter said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "There are a lot of men who would've cracked under that sort of pressure. You didn't. You... you did a good job, Neal, and I'm proud to call you my partner."

Looking up slowly, Neal smiled. "Thank you, Peter," he said, his voice rough.

Peter smiled back. "Thank you."

xxxxx

It was a long nine days until Neal was finally released from the hospital. They wanted to keep him for observation for another two, but he was getting so restless that the doctor came and told Peter in no uncertain terms to have him out by lunchtime.

Everyone was more than happy to oblige them.

Neal was finally able to get clean in his own shower and wear his own clothes, and it was amazing how the loft had stayed exactly the same even though he hadn't been there in over a month. Well, he was a few bottles of wine lighter, and there were some interesting trinkets left about, but that was only to be expected with a house guest like Mozzie.

He spent a little extra time combing through his hair, fixing his tie just so, selecting the right shoes. It felt good to be back.

"Neal, are you in there?" Mozzie asked, knocking on the door impatiently.

"Yeah," Neal said, giving himself a small smile in the mirror. The sleeves and shirt were still a little uncomfortable on his skin in a few places, and his arm was supposed to be kept in a sling most of the time, but really, it was a pretty good deal compared to what could've happened.

"Well, hurry up," Mozzie said. "We're already running late and I don't want to miss out on the soup."

"Alright, I'm coming, Moz," Neal said. "Calm down," he urged his long-time friend with a smirk. "Elle won't let Peter eat all of the soup."

"You'd better hope not," Mozzie grumbled, easily keeping pace with Neal.

They took a cab to the Burke's residence, exchanging a glance before Neal rang the doorbell.

"You know, Neal, I'm glad you weren't killed in your latest quest to aid the G-men," Mozzie commented lightly. "I'm not sure I'd brave the Suit's house alone, but I do love Elle's cooking."

Neal laughed, shifting to his left foot. "I'm glad too, Moz."

Elizabeth opened the door and a delicious smell flooded out toward them. "Hello, boys," she said. "You're late."

"Neal was preening," Mozzie said. Neal gave the back of his head a look, but it didn't offer much gratification.

"Come in, have a seat," Elizabeth said graciously, giving them both a warm smile. "Everything's all ready."

"Excellent," Mozzie said, rubbing his hands together as he sat down in the dining room. Sure enough, Peter was seated at the table, surrounded by a tantalizing array of foods. Neal inhaled deeply as he took a chair.

"This looks... amazing, Elizabeth," he said. "You really went all out."

"Well," Elizabeth shrugged. "I figured the occasion called for a little extra celebration. Now, dig in."

They did so, gladly. Once the initial hunger had been overcome, conversation began to flow more easily.

"I went to see Rachelle and Lea today," Elizabeth said. "I saw a few of the others too. Everyone seems to be recovering well. I'm going out to lunch with them next week."

"That's good," Neal said, leaning back. "I'm glad none of them were seriously hurt."

"Me too," Elizabeth agreed. "And Peter-" she smiled at her husband, "went out to visit someone a few days ago, too."

Peter shifted uncomfortably in his chair and Neal flashed him a catlike grin. "Oh, really? Who did you visit, Peter?"

"Just Will, the kid who helped us out," Peter said, trying to be nonchalant and failing miserably.

"Ah." Neal nodded. "Why?"

"I... Uh... Well, actually, you see-"

"Peter arranged new work for him," Elizabeth broke in, a light air of exasperation about her. "Goodness, Peter, you can tell them." She shook her head, then continued, "It pays better and it makes it so that he won't have to walk through such dangerous neighborhoods at night anymore."

"Aw, Peter," Neal said, nudging the agent with his elbow. "You've been playing me this whole time, you're just a huge softie."

Peter swatted his hand away and took a bite of his roll grouchily. "It seemed like a good payback, okay?"

"In all honesty, Peter, it was a very nice thing of you to do," Neal said, feeling a little nostalgia. "I'm sure it meant the world to him and his family."

"You're not all bad, Suit," Mozzie agreed.

"Alright, enough sentimental fluff," Peter said, stacking his plate. "Let's have some ice cream."

"I'll drink to that."