At What Cost

Chapter 2

Neal's scream echoed through the cavernous warehouse. It filled the corridors, bounced back from the ceiling, it was everywhere. She felt it in the pit of her stomach as she rushed down the hallway. He was writhing on the floor in agonizing pain when she reached him. He grabbed for the anklet.

"Neal, stop!" She pulled his hands away and the brief contact with the smoldering device seared her fingers.

"Don't let him touch it," she shouted to Blake. She gathered Neal to her. He was struggling in her arms, kicking out wildly but she was unflinching.

"Get it off, get it off. Please….help me."

"Neal, listen to me. I know it hurts, but you have to hold still so we can get a look at it. Blake, hold his leg down."

Neal could barely make out Diana's face, but her voice calmed him somehow. "How bad?" he choked out. It was his last coherent thought before an explosion of pain rocketed through his system and he went under again. Lying limp in her arms, the room went silent save for the insistent hissing sound of blood meeting burning metal.

Blake's face paled as he looked at the mess that was Neal's ankle. A black pool of blood formed underneath his leg. The sickening sight of flesh surrendering to the molten device made him want to retch.

Jones was standing nearby… horrified. Diana placed Neal on his side and walked over to him.

"Diana...I didn't know."

She slapped him hard across the face. "What happened to you, Clinton?" she felt nauseous.

"Di..." he reached out to her.

"Don't. Don't you dare."

"I'm sorry," he looked down. What can I do?"

"Whatever it takes to get that thing off him."

Wcwcwc

Blinking, he tried to bring reality into view. Then he blinked again. He struggled to sit up. God, he was a mess. Then it hit again, white hot pain. He tried to breathe through it, but it was futile and pathetic as the blazing heat ripped through his body and exploded out his throat, past his lips like the cries of the damned.

"Diana! Where are you?" his face was utter pain, eyes desperate as he searched about for her.

"Hey, I'm right here," she had him.

His front brain trusted Diana would make it stop, but his back brain knew he was in a train wreck. "I can't…I can't do this. I did everything wrong. I'm sorry…so sorry."

"Neal, help will be here soon." His eyes were open but unfocused. He was saying something, but she couldn't hear it even as she put her ear to his mouth. She looked directly into his eyes.

"Anytime now, Neal. Anytime. Stay with me."

"Agent Berrigan, excuse me… but I saw a ratchet saw back there. The acid is a calcium scavenger, once it works its way through soft tissue and bone, the greater the chance of it getting into his bloodstream. I'm thinking maybe we can cut through the anklet. It's more brittle now, structurally weaker. But…"

"What? Spit it out Blake."

"I'm going to have to get under the anklet and there's no way to do that without causing more damage."

Neal's body is shaking badly now. Delirious from the pain, he's in and out of consciousness. In a moment of lucidity, he reached out a hand to Diana, frowning at the obvious distress in her face.

"Not your fault," his voice was raw and barely audible. She leaned in "the heart scarab, stand…. stand as my witness." Whatever energy he had was spent, nothing was left over. His effort to hold his eyes open was failing.

"You're not going anywhere Caffrey. You hear me."

She looked over to Blake, "Do it! Whatever it takes, get it off."

wcwcwc

At the hospital she is sitting, waiting on news. Neal went up to surgery hours ago. She can't recall everything, they were talking skin grafts, bone grafts…amputation. Her mind checked out at amputation. Clara agreed to stay with Theo as long as she needed. She couldn't stop thinking about her baby boy. If Neal hadn't saved her, he'd be all alone tonight.

Someone pressed a cup of coffee into her hands. Holding the shaking cup proved even more difficult with her bandages. After what seemed an eternity, Blake managed to cut through the anklet freeing Neal from his torment. She would never tease the young probie again. Her memory is hazy for what happened after. The EMT's, Jones and the Marshals, it was all a blur. Someone was talking to her as they prepared Neal for transport.

"We need to dress your hands."

"What?"

"Ma'am. Your hands are burned, we need to dress them."

She wiped at her face, still wet from her tears. She hated being a spectacle, even though no one was watching. The doctor felt hopeful they could save his leg, but there was always a small chance it might have to come off. The damage was extensive, worse case involved bone grafting. Bones were supposed to be strong, but right now hers felt brittle and tired. She started to cry again, she couldn't help herself, it just poured out. She needed a drink. She wanted to hold her baby.

In this short time, Theo became everything to her. From the moment she saw him, she became another person. She changed, people can change. Christie thought she couldn't, but she wanted to tell her so desperately that it wasn't true. Theo was what she had been running to all this time, even when she didn't know she was on the run.

"Diana?" he looked down at his friend. She seemed so small in the empty waiting room.

"Peter."

"Are you okay?"

"No. I'm not." She was trying, but failing, at keeping a grip on her run away emotions.

"Clinton told me what happened," he heard the bite in her voice. "How's Neal?"

"He's in surgery, but you don't have to worry. He can't slip his ankle. You might want to get another though, because this one's burned to a crisp," she took out what was left of the tracking device from her pocket.

"That's not fair, Di. You don't understand. Things are really complicated with Neal right now."

"When haven't they been, Peter? Make me understand, she asked searching his eyes. When did you start authorizing field operations with Neal and pull the keys to his anklet?"

"I had no idea. How could anyone have known this would happen?"

"The Peter Burke that made me join the White Collar Division would have. You prepare for every contingency, it's what makes you the best at what you do."

"Di, Neal's tied up in Siegel's murder."

"You honestly think Neal murdered someone or set them up to be murdered?"

"No. no. I would never think that."

"Have you gone to Neal with your suspicions?"

Peter is silent. He closed his eyes as the question hung between them.

"I thought so. After all we've been through with Neal, doesn't he deserve the benefit of the doubt…if not a conversation? I can tell you this, if he is involved it's for a damned good reason. If it were me or Jones, tell me you wouldn't be having a conversation."

"That's different, you're not..."

"What Peter, criminals? That criminal saved my life, kept my son from being orphaned. He's saved your life. He deserves the benefit of the doubt, he's earned it. How many times are you going to have to be proven wrong about him?"

"If Neal is involved in this. If…. I can't protect him Diana."

"You've protected him plenty in the past, just like you protected me and I've protected you. I surveiled a fellow agent, broke into OPC offices and stole evidence," tears threatened. She swiped at her face, the words choking in her throat. Peter touched her arm.

"We not only bent the rules, hell…we smashed them to pieces with Fowler and that miserable music box. Should we go to jail, cause we sure as shit broke the law?"

"Too much is at stake now. You think I want this? Any of this, Neal hurt… lying in a hospital bed. God! If I send him back to prison now, he'll never survive it. It's a death sentence and you know it."

"Then don't send him back. You know Neal better than anyone, probably better than himself. You know in your heart, he's incapable of what you suspect."

"What do you want me to do?

"Be the man I came back from D.C. for. You never give up on the people on your watch. Caffrey's always needed someone to pull him back from the brink. Maybe it's not fair that it's fallen to you, but you took the job. You could have walked away anytime, but you didn't and neither did he. Find a way."

"I'm tired Peter, really tired. I need to hold my son. Neal's not running Peter, he may never run again. Stop chasing him."

"Let him stay or let him go."

The end.

Thanks for your time.