Love is a many splendor thing - Part 1 (1/2)
Love is a many splendor thing - Part 1
Author: NYWCgirl
Artist: Esgeee
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: None
Characters: Peter, Neal, Elizabeth, Mozzie, OC
Warning: torture (although nothing really graphic), near death experience
Spoilers: none
Rating: NC-17
Genre: hurt/comfort, restraints, torture, kidnapping, brain washing, serial killer
Author’s Notes: This part of the story fills my `Near Death experience´ square on my h/c bingo card and is written for the WCBB 2016 (whitecollar_BB). The wonderful art is made by Esgeee.
Word Count: ~14000
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: The FBI is up against a serial killer who tortures his victims before he leaves them to a slow and agonizing death. Will Peter and Neal be able to catch him before he takes his next victim? And what happens when the serial killer goes after one of them? Will the other be able to save him?
Link to the art can be found here.
He takes his victim out of the box at least once a day, but the man is only vaguely aware of this. Sometimes he is not completely sedated and he blinks up at his abductor with droopy eyes. But most of the time, his eyes roll back in his head and he is unaware that he is being cleaned and taken care of. He talks to his victim in a soothing voice, reassuring him, telling him what a good boy he is.
At the moment he feeds the man a liquid diet through his IV, but he can´t wait until he is more lucid, so he can feed his victim properly. He knows better than to try and feed him in his current state. He tried it before and it did not end well for that person.
He has sculpted the man´s body to fit in the box he made. His arms are bound behind his back at the wrists and elbows and attached to his ankles. All the shackles are handmade by himself for each of his victims, as is the posture collar. That way his victims stay in perfect posture in their transparent boxes, even unconscious. He takes great pride in that. They look like living sculptures.
Every time he takes out his victim out of the box, he gently massages and stretches all of his limbs after removing the restraints. He doesn´t want to atrophy the muscles and tendons. He is very careful to prolong his ‘care’.
* * *
Neal wakes up in the dark. It takes a while before his brain catches up with reality. He can´t move his arms or legs, now that he thinks about it, he can´t move anything. He can´t get enough air, he is suffocating. He… He recognizes the panic attack and he does his best to control his breathing.
So he is not suffocating, but he is in pain. His brain is just overwhelmed with all the impulses it is getting. It takes a while before he realizes he is in a kneeling position, his muscles are cramping while other parts of his body are numb. His back and shoulders hurt, it is not an ache, it is excruciating pain. He screams out his pain, but he isn´t getting enough air, he can´t expand his lungs enough because he is wedged between something.
He forces himself to relax to focus on his last memory and not at the situation he is in. How did he get here? The last thing he remembers… Wait… the car crash. Is he squashed inside the car wreck? He was …, no he wasn´t alone, there was someone with him.
Peter!
Peter had been driving. A car had slammed into them. They were in an accident. Maybe that is why he is hurting so bad and why he can´t move. Maybe he is paralyzed.
The pain is becoming unbearable again; he must have been in the same position for a long time. He hates himself for it, but he starts crying, it is the only relief his body has since he can´t move. But his crying makes the air in the box stuffier and hotter, he knows that he should stay calm, but he can´t and he starts to hyperventilate. But the faster he breaths, the more restricted the box feels, there is just not enough air.
Tears keep falling and he wants to struggle, but there is just not enough space, so he starts screaming again until he passes out.
* * *
When he wakes up, his heart rate picks up immediately, he is still in the same position. Instinctively he wants to struggle, only to realize he can´t. The pain is less than he can remember, but he wants out. Someone should have found them by now, shouldn´t they?
“Peter?” he tries, but there is no response.
“PETER!” he cries out. “HELP. SOMEBODY HELP ME.”
He keeps screaming until the air is getting thick again. It doesn´t take long to lose consciousness again.
He startles awake and wonders how many times he has woken before? It doesn´t matter, he has no tears left and he feels weak and lethargic, all he wants to do is sleep. He can´t gather up enough energy to struggle.
And then all of a sudden, cool air hits him. This is his chance, he wants to call for help, but is screaming has left his throat raw and no real sound leaves his mouth.
Someone laughs and Neal opens his eyes, only to stare in the face of a man. They are here to get him out, he sort of lets out a sob in relief.
He can see the man fiddling with plastic tubing; it takes him a moment to sink in that it looks like IV-tubing. The man connects it with something high on his chest. He wants to see, but he can´t bend his head due to something around his neck, probably a cervical collar.
Something is placed back again on top of him, what sounds like a lid. He can see the man leave after he connected the line to some sort of electronic IV-stand. Neal can´t withhold the sob that escapes him.
“Don´t leave me.” He whispers.
He can see a colored fluid slowly making his way towards him. He can only guess what is in the IV-bag. Once the fluid reaches him, he panics, but after a while he realizes, he doesn´t feel any different, maybe it is saline. But shouldn´t saline be colorless?
After what feels like hours, his thirst is lessening, so the IV contains probably fluids to prevent dehydration. But it didn´t take away the pain. His knees and shoulders are killing him, and he needs relief. As his body can´t give it to him, he starts screaming again.
Without warning something hot streams through his veins and his screaming makes way for begging.
“Please, why aren´t you helping me? What are you doing? What do you want?”
The warmth takes away the pain and soon Neal´s brain is too doped to care. He feels good, better than good, it is an almost orgasmic feeling.
* * *
It didn´t take the FBI long to figure out that one of their vehicles was in an accident. All their cars are outfitted with an automatic vehicle accident alert system.
So as soon as the system registered the accident, an alerting message containing time and location was sent to the FBI emergency number. By the time local law enforcement arrived at the accident side, the first responders found the wrecked car, but no sign of the occupants. They searched for hours but both Peter and Neal had vanished.
* * *
Neal can hear noises and slowly blinks open his eyes. He still isn´t understanding what is going on. He isn´t in a hospital, that is for sure, so what is with the pain killers and the IV? He tries to look around with just his eyes and realizes he is stuffed in a sort of box. The box is transparent because he can see through it. He does his best to get his drugged mind to work properly and to take in details. It is the first time he is this lucid but with it comes the horror of where he is. He is not in the car wreck like he thought he was. He is stuffed in some sort of plexiglass box.
Neal´s panic skyrockets.
This is not good, their serial killer has him.
What happened to Peter? Is he also here? He tries to look, but can´t turn his head and in his line of vision there is nobody.
He can hear footsteps coming towards him. The man he has a vague recollection of seeing before, stops in front of his box. When the lid comes off, there is fresh air.
“Neal.”
Neal´s entire body tenses in anticipation. There is so much he wants to say and ask, but he only manages “Why?”
“I will let you out.”
Neal just stares at the man with puffy tired eyes.
“If you sing me a song.”
Neal´s brain can´t seem to process the strange request.
“What?” he croaks.
“Sing me a song. If I like it I will let you out.”
Neal blinks and tries to swallow.
“Sing? Sing what?”
His abductor closes the lid and walks away.
“No please, wait, I will sing.” He screams, but the man ignores him.
Neal panics and tears threaten to fall again.
Abruptly the lid is opened again.
“I´ll sing.” He croaks.
“Love is a splendor…” his voice is rough from the screaming, so Neal tries to clear it, but it doesn´t and he starts coughing. The panic is back and he can´t expand his chest enough and he will suffocate…
“That won´t do Neal, breathe.”
The lids is closed again.
“Wait.” Neal shouts. “Please, please take me out.”
He is not above begging anymore, his shouts turn into sobbing. All hope is lost and Neal suddenly realizes that death will not come easy. It didn´t for the previous victims they found and it won’t be for him.
So he starts singing softly to spare his disused voice.
“Love is a many splendored thing
It’s the April rose that only grows in the early Spring
Love is nature’s way of giving a reason to be living
The golden crown that makes a man a king
Once on a high and windy hill, in the morning mist
Two lovers kissed and the world stood still
Then your fingers touched my silent heart…”
Neal starts crying again. The man is not coming back. It is no use.
“Please continue. You have a lovely voice.” The man says with a gentle voice.
Neal startles but quickly continues.
“My silent heart and taught it how to sing
Yes, true love’s a many splendored thing
Once on a high and windy hill, In the morning mist
Two lovers kissed and the world stood still
Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing
Yes, true love’s a many splendored thing”
Neal´s voice trails off near the end of the song.
“Out? Please?”
“Because you asked so politely, Neal.”
A mask is placed over his face and Neal´s anxiety skyrockets again. He wants to struggle, but his restraints prevent that.
“Calm your breathing. Breathe in… and out…”
Neal starts to feel lightheaded and blames it on his hyperventilation. It isn´t until an euphoric feeling spreads throughout his body that he realizes he is being drugged again. The warm tingling feeling spreads through his arms and legs. He just gives in and welcomes the black void.
* * *
Officer Malcolm gets the call around midnight. A truck driver reports a person who is walking unsteady on one of the local roads. After taking the man´s name and number, he promises to check it out. He radios his colleague and gets in his car. It doesn´t take him long to locate the signed man and as described, he is walking like a drunk, so he switches on the siren. To is surprise the man stops over although it is half on the road and he keeps swaying back and forth.
He gets out of the car, puts on his hat, unclips his holster and walks up to the man who is just staring to something in the distance.
“Please turn around, sir.”
When the man doesn´t respond, he touches the man´s shoulder. The man startles bad and it is only now that he realizes the man is injured.
“Sir, are you injured?”
Peter slowly turns and just blinks.
“I…think… I need help.”
He can now smell the stench of blood and vomit and he immediately calls in an ambulance while examining the man.
“Can you tell me your name? Sir? Your name?”
“P’ter B’rke.”
“Peter Burke? Are you special agent Peter Burke?”
But before the man answers, his eyes roll back and loses consciousness. Just in time, he can grab onto the man, gently lowering him down.
“Sir? Peter?” He tries to rouse the man, but he is unsuccessful.
“Tom? I need an ETA on that ambulance.”
* * *
Being out of the box doesn´t feel as good as Neal had expected. He is lying on the floor, sobbing. The drugs are leaving his system and he is in agony. The restraints are gone, but his muscles are severely cramping. But he is just in too much pain to even try to escape, so he just lays there. He moans when another wave of pain rips through him.
“I can take the pain away.” The man merely states.
Neal tries to breathe through the pain, but the tears that fall betray him.
“I will hit you with a dose of heavy painkillers if you dine with me.”
Neal is too far retreated into himself to listen properly, but he does registers the word painkiller and he needs to fight with himself not to nod.
“Get away from me.” He hisses.
“OK, let´s get you back in the box.” The man takes out the restraints and Neal tries to get away from him, but he is no match for the man.
“No, please, don´t.”
“Don´t what?”
“Not the box.”
“So you will dine with me.”
Neal thinks about it and then finally nods.
The man injects a syringe into his central line. The medicine washes over him like a tidal wave and Neal moans, but this time it is in ecstasy.
“Are you still in pain?”
“No”
“Good, can you stand?”
“Can I?” Neal asks confused.
“I want you to try, come on.”
He is pulled up and wavers. The man waits until he is more steady on his feet before slowly pulling Neal with him. Neal shuffles next to the man. When he is pushed down, he sits on something that is filled with warmth. It is nice; he gets this floating feeling and Neal smiles, leaning into the touch when his hair is washed. His abductor washes and grooms him. When they are done, Neal is being lead into a chair, dressed in white boxers and T-shirt. He isn´t cold, however, the pain is slowly returning which means the drugs are wearing off. Neal realizes that this is a good thing; it means he can think of a way to escape, if only he can con his abductor to believe he is still incapacitated.
No such luck, the man must be a mind reader.
“Don´t even think about escaping, the doors are locked with electronic locks and there isn´t a living soul around in hundreds of miles.”
It is said in a matter of fact tone and not menacing, but Neal understands the underlying threat. Neal just nods. If it is true what the man says, it is no use, he won´t make it out of this hell hole, on the other side, what if he is lying? But Neal thinks back on the victims they have found, he is probably not exaggerating. He sighs in defeat.
“What do I call you?”
“You may call me Meester.”
While Neal is sitting in the chair, he can see Meester finishing his cooking in the open kitchen and taking two plates. He spoons some sort of stew in the plates and Neal´s stomach growls when the delicious aroma reaches him. Meester puts the plate in front of him and sits next to him. He picks up the spoon and scoops some up and brings it to Neal´s mouth.
“I can feed myself?”
“I am aware of that fact, but I will feed you.”
Neal considers refusing the food, but then thinks better of it and opens his mouth. He realizes this is Meester showing that he is no longer in charge of his own body. His abductor wants him depend on him.
After a couple of spoons, he stops feeding Neal.
“Can I have more?”
“No, I don´t want you to get sick. You haven´t eaten in quite some time.”
* * *
Peter gasps as the pain hits him. He opens his eyes and is met with white walls, white ceiling.
Hospital… he thinks and with it, all the memories rush back; the car accident, Neal, NEAL… he attempts to sit up, but gasps. Not a good plan. He lets his hands wander over the sheets and finds the call button. A nurse enters and smiles when she notices Peter is awake.
“How are you feeling?”
“It hurts but I will live. I need to take a phone call.”
Yes, well, the doctor will be in soon. We informed you wife and office as soon as you were admitted. Why don´t you rest for now, I will bring you some breakfast, how does that sound?”
“Very good, thanks.”
The nurse leaves and almost immediately after, a doctor enters.
“Good morning agent Burke, my name is doctor Grohe, I was on call when you were brought in.
“When was that?”
“Last night. You were brought in with a gunshot wound to your right shoulder. Damage was minimal and we expect a full recovery.
“Good, when can I leave?”
“We would like to see how you feel tomorrow…”
“I need to go back to New York City, my CI is still missing.”
“Why am I not surprised? As long as you have someone to pick you up and stay with you and that you seek medical aftercare where you live.”
“I will take care of that.”
“OK, I will ask for some late breakfast, if everything stays down, I will take care of your discharge papers.”
“Appreciate it.”
Peter finishes his breakfast and anxiously waits for the doctor to return. Before he does, Diana and Jones arrive to escort him back to the city. They explain that they didn´t want to endanger Elizabeth so she will be waiting for them in a safe house.
Continue
Author: NYWCgirl
Artist: Esgeee
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: None
Characters: Peter, Neal, Elizabeth, Mozzie, OC
Warning: torture (although nothing really graphic), near death experience
Spoilers: none
Rating: NC-17
Genre: hurt/comfort, restraints, torture, kidnapping, brain washing, serial killer
Author’s Notes: This part of the story fills my `Near Death experience´ square on my h/c bingo card and is written for the WCBB 2016 (whitecollar_BB). The wonderful art is made by Esgeee.
Word Count: ~14000
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: The FBI is up against a serial killer who tortures his victims before he leaves them to a slow and agonizing death. Will Peter and Neal be able to catch him before he takes his next victim? And what happens when the serial killer goes after one of them? Will the other be able to save him?
Link to the art can be found here.
He takes his victim out of the box at least once a day, but the man is only vaguely aware of this. Sometimes he is not completely sedated and he blinks up at his abductor with droopy eyes. But most of the time, his eyes roll back in his head and he is unaware that he is being cleaned and taken care of. He talks to his victim in a soothing voice, reassuring him, telling him what a good boy he is.
At the moment he feeds the man a liquid diet through his IV, but he can´t wait until he is more lucid, so he can feed his victim properly. He knows better than to try and feed him in his current state. He tried it before and it did not end well for that person.
He has sculpted the man´s body to fit in the box he made. His arms are bound behind his back at the wrists and elbows and attached to his ankles. All the shackles are handmade by himself for each of his victims, as is the posture collar. That way his victims stay in perfect posture in their transparent boxes, even unconscious. He takes great pride in that. They look like living sculptures.
Every time he takes out his victim out of the box, he gently massages and stretches all of his limbs after removing the restraints. He doesn´t want to atrophy the muscles and tendons. He is very careful to prolong his ‘care’.
* * *
Neal wakes up in the dark. It takes a while before his brain catches up with reality. He can´t move his arms or legs, now that he thinks about it, he can´t move anything. He can´t get enough air, he is suffocating. He… He recognizes the panic attack and he does his best to control his breathing.
So he is not suffocating, but he is in pain. His brain is just overwhelmed with all the impulses it is getting. It takes a while before he realizes he is in a kneeling position, his muscles are cramping while other parts of his body are numb. His back and shoulders hurt, it is not an ache, it is excruciating pain. He screams out his pain, but he isn´t getting enough air, he can´t expand his lungs enough because he is wedged between something.
He forces himself to relax to focus on his last memory and not at the situation he is in. How did he get here? The last thing he remembers… Wait… the car crash. Is he squashed inside the car wreck? He was …, no he wasn´t alone, there was someone with him.
Peter!
Peter had been driving. A car had slammed into them. They were in an accident. Maybe that is why he is hurting so bad and why he can´t move. Maybe he is paralyzed.
The pain is becoming unbearable again; he must have been in the same position for a long time. He hates himself for it, but he starts crying, it is the only relief his body has since he can´t move. But his crying makes the air in the box stuffier and hotter, he knows that he should stay calm, but he can´t and he starts to hyperventilate. But the faster he breaths, the more restricted the box feels, there is just not enough air.
Tears keep falling and he wants to struggle, but there is just not enough space, so he starts screaming again until he passes out.
* * *
When he wakes up, his heart rate picks up immediately, he is still in the same position. Instinctively he wants to struggle, only to realize he can´t. The pain is less than he can remember, but he wants out. Someone should have found them by now, shouldn´t they?
“Peter?” he tries, but there is no response.
“PETER!” he cries out. “HELP. SOMEBODY HELP ME.”
He keeps screaming until the air is getting thick again. It doesn´t take long to lose consciousness again.
He startles awake and wonders how many times he has woken before? It doesn´t matter, he has no tears left and he feels weak and lethargic, all he wants to do is sleep. He can´t gather up enough energy to struggle.
And then all of a sudden, cool air hits him. This is his chance, he wants to call for help, but is screaming has left his throat raw and no real sound leaves his mouth.
Someone laughs and Neal opens his eyes, only to stare in the face of a man. They are here to get him out, he sort of lets out a sob in relief.
He can see the man fiddling with plastic tubing; it takes him a moment to sink in that it looks like IV-tubing. The man connects it with something high on his chest. He wants to see, but he can´t bend his head due to something around his neck, probably a cervical collar.
Something is placed back again on top of him, what sounds like a lid. He can see the man leave after he connected the line to some sort of electronic IV-stand. Neal can´t withhold the sob that escapes him.
“Don´t leave me.” He whispers.
He can see a colored fluid slowly making his way towards him. He can only guess what is in the IV-bag. Once the fluid reaches him, he panics, but after a while he realizes, he doesn´t feel any different, maybe it is saline. But shouldn´t saline be colorless?
After what feels like hours, his thirst is lessening, so the IV contains probably fluids to prevent dehydration. But it didn´t take away the pain. His knees and shoulders are killing him, and he needs relief. As his body can´t give it to him, he starts screaming again.
Without warning something hot streams through his veins and his screaming makes way for begging.
“Please, why aren´t you helping me? What are you doing? What do you want?”
The warmth takes away the pain and soon Neal´s brain is too doped to care. He feels good, better than good, it is an almost orgasmic feeling.
* * *
It didn´t take the FBI long to figure out that one of their vehicles was in an accident. All their cars are outfitted with an automatic vehicle accident alert system.
So as soon as the system registered the accident, an alerting message containing time and location was sent to the FBI emergency number. By the time local law enforcement arrived at the accident side, the first responders found the wrecked car, but no sign of the occupants. They searched for hours but both Peter and Neal had vanished.
* * *
Neal can hear noises and slowly blinks open his eyes. He still isn´t understanding what is going on. He isn´t in a hospital, that is for sure, so what is with the pain killers and the IV? He tries to look around with just his eyes and realizes he is stuffed in a sort of box. The box is transparent because he can see through it. He does his best to get his drugged mind to work properly and to take in details. It is the first time he is this lucid but with it comes the horror of where he is. He is not in the car wreck like he thought he was. He is stuffed in some sort of plexiglass box.
Neal´s panic skyrockets.
This is not good, their serial killer has him.
What happened to Peter? Is he also here? He tries to look, but can´t turn his head and in his line of vision there is nobody.
He can hear footsteps coming towards him. The man he has a vague recollection of seeing before, stops in front of his box. When the lid comes off, there is fresh air.
“Neal.”
Neal´s entire body tenses in anticipation. There is so much he wants to say and ask, but he only manages “Why?”
“I will let you out.”
Neal just stares at the man with puffy tired eyes.
“If you sing me a song.”
Neal´s brain can´t seem to process the strange request.
“What?” he croaks.
“Sing me a song. If I like it I will let you out.”
Neal blinks and tries to swallow.
“Sing? Sing what?”
His abductor closes the lid and walks away.
“No please, wait, I will sing.” He screams, but the man ignores him.
Neal panics and tears threaten to fall again.
Abruptly the lid is opened again.
“I´ll sing.” He croaks.
“Love is a splendor…” his voice is rough from the screaming, so Neal tries to clear it, but it doesn´t and he starts coughing. The panic is back and he can´t expand his chest enough and he will suffocate…
“That won´t do Neal, breathe.”
The lids is closed again.
“Wait.” Neal shouts. “Please, please take me out.”
He is not above begging anymore, his shouts turn into sobbing. All hope is lost and Neal suddenly realizes that death will not come easy. It didn´t for the previous victims they found and it won’t be for him.
So he starts singing softly to spare his disused voice.
“Love is a many splendored thing
It’s the April rose that only grows in the early Spring
Love is nature’s way of giving a reason to be living
The golden crown that makes a man a king
Once on a high and windy hill, in the morning mist
Two lovers kissed and the world stood still
Then your fingers touched my silent heart…”
Neal starts crying again. The man is not coming back. It is no use.
“Please continue. You have a lovely voice.” The man says with a gentle voice.
Neal startles but quickly continues.
“My silent heart and taught it how to sing
Yes, true love’s a many splendored thing
Once on a high and windy hill, In the morning mist
Two lovers kissed and the world stood still
Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing
Yes, true love’s a many splendored thing”
Neal´s voice trails off near the end of the song.
“Out? Please?”
“Because you asked so politely, Neal.”
A mask is placed over his face and Neal´s anxiety skyrockets again. He wants to struggle, but his restraints prevent that.
“Calm your breathing. Breathe in… and out…”
Neal starts to feel lightheaded and blames it on his hyperventilation. It isn´t until an euphoric feeling spreads throughout his body that he realizes he is being drugged again. The warm tingling feeling spreads through his arms and legs. He just gives in and welcomes the black void.
* * *
Officer Malcolm gets the call around midnight. A truck driver reports a person who is walking unsteady on one of the local roads. After taking the man´s name and number, he promises to check it out. He radios his colleague and gets in his car. It doesn´t take him long to locate the signed man and as described, he is walking like a drunk, so he switches on the siren. To is surprise the man stops over although it is half on the road and he keeps swaying back and forth.
He gets out of the car, puts on his hat, unclips his holster and walks up to the man who is just staring to something in the distance.
“Please turn around, sir.”
When the man doesn´t respond, he touches the man´s shoulder. The man startles bad and it is only now that he realizes the man is injured.
“Sir, are you injured?”
Peter slowly turns and just blinks.
“I…think… I need help.”
He can now smell the stench of blood and vomit and he immediately calls in an ambulance while examining the man.
“Can you tell me your name? Sir? Your name?”
“P’ter B’rke.”
“Peter Burke? Are you special agent Peter Burke?”
But before the man answers, his eyes roll back and loses consciousness. Just in time, he can grab onto the man, gently lowering him down.
“Sir? Peter?” He tries to rouse the man, but he is unsuccessful.
“Tom? I need an ETA on that ambulance.”
* * *
Being out of the box doesn´t feel as good as Neal had expected. He is lying on the floor, sobbing. The drugs are leaving his system and he is in agony. The restraints are gone, but his muscles are severely cramping. But he is just in too much pain to even try to escape, so he just lays there. He moans when another wave of pain rips through him.
“I can take the pain away.” The man merely states.
Neal tries to breathe through the pain, but the tears that fall betray him.
“I will hit you with a dose of heavy painkillers if you dine with me.”
Neal is too far retreated into himself to listen properly, but he does registers the word painkiller and he needs to fight with himself not to nod.
“Get away from me.” He hisses.
“OK, let´s get you back in the box.” The man takes out the restraints and Neal tries to get away from him, but he is no match for the man.
“No, please, don´t.”
“Don´t what?”
“Not the box.”
“So you will dine with me.”
Neal thinks about it and then finally nods.
The man injects a syringe into his central line. The medicine washes over him like a tidal wave and Neal moans, but this time it is in ecstasy.
“Are you still in pain?”
“No”
“Good, can you stand?”
“Can I?” Neal asks confused.
“I want you to try, come on.”
He is pulled up and wavers. The man waits until he is more steady on his feet before slowly pulling Neal with him. Neal shuffles next to the man. When he is pushed down, he sits on something that is filled with warmth. It is nice; he gets this floating feeling and Neal smiles, leaning into the touch when his hair is washed. His abductor washes and grooms him. When they are done, Neal is being lead into a chair, dressed in white boxers and T-shirt. He isn´t cold, however, the pain is slowly returning which means the drugs are wearing off. Neal realizes that this is a good thing; it means he can think of a way to escape, if only he can con his abductor to believe he is still incapacitated.
No such luck, the man must be a mind reader.
“Don´t even think about escaping, the doors are locked with electronic locks and there isn´t a living soul around in hundreds of miles.”
It is said in a matter of fact tone and not menacing, but Neal understands the underlying threat. Neal just nods. If it is true what the man says, it is no use, he won´t make it out of this hell hole, on the other side, what if he is lying? But Neal thinks back on the victims they have found, he is probably not exaggerating. He sighs in defeat.
“What do I call you?”
“You may call me Meester.”
While Neal is sitting in the chair, he can see Meester finishing his cooking in the open kitchen and taking two plates. He spoons some sort of stew in the plates and Neal´s stomach growls when the delicious aroma reaches him. Meester puts the plate in front of him and sits next to him. He picks up the spoon and scoops some up and brings it to Neal´s mouth.
“I can feed myself?”
“I am aware of that fact, but I will feed you.”
Neal considers refusing the food, but then thinks better of it and opens his mouth. He realizes this is Meester showing that he is no longer in charge of his own body. His abductor wants him depend on him.
After a couple of spoons, he stops feeding Neal.
“Can I have more?”
“No, I don´t want you to get sick. You haven´t eaten in quite some time.”
* * *
Peter gasps as the pain hits him. He opens his eyes and is met with white walls, white ceiling.
Hospital… he thinks and with it, all the memories rush back; the car accident, Neal, NEAL… he attempts to sit up, but gasps. Not a good plan. He lets his hands wander over the sheets and finds the call button. A nurse enters and smiles when she notices Peter is awake.
“How are you feeling?”
“It hurts but I will live. I need to take a phone call.”
Yes, well, the doctor will be in soon. We informed you wife and office as soon as you were admitted. Why don´t you rest for now, I will bring you some breakfast, how does that sound?”
“Very good, thanks.”
The nurse leaves and almost immediately after, a doctor enters.
“Good morning agent Burke, my name is doctor Grohe, I was on call when you were brought in.
“When was that?”
“Last night. You were brought in with a gunshot wound to your right shoulder. Damage was minimal and we expect a full recovery.
“Good, when can I leave?”
“We would like to see how you feel tomorrow…”
“I need to go back to New York City, my CI is still missing.”
“Why am I not surprised? As long as you have someone to pick you up and stay with you and that you seek medical aftercare where you live.”
“I will take care of that.”
“OK, I will ask for some late breakfast, if everything stays down, I will take care of your discharge papers.”
“Appreciate it.”
Peter finishes his breakfast and anxiously waits for the doctor to return. Before he does, Diana and Jones arrive to escort him back to the city. They explain that they didn´t want to endanger Elizabeth so she will be waiting for them in a safe house.
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