How To Take Care Of A Sick Ex-Con Man | White Collar [COMPLETED]

Preparation & Medication, step 3

In the previous chapter...

(...)"Well I'll let you figure it out then." "Goodbye honey." he smiled "Bye honey!" and ended the call. Once again, he sighed looking at his phone for a moment, then sitting back at the table. "So how's Elizabeth?" Neal asked curiously, trying to come up with a new topic for «small talk»...

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It was some time later at night. The night sky was dead black with a bunch of white twinkling stars as always and there was not a sound to be heard on the streets except for the occasional car driving by late from work. If Peter hadn't «taken care of Neal» , he would be one of those late night driver's getting home after a long and exhausting day of work. Luckily, this night he wasn't, unfortunately for Neal. Or was it?

At the Burke's residence, the two men were talking and laughing like nothing had happened in the office. It might've been due to alcohol, but it was very unlikely (because Peter was very careful in how many glasses of wine he would let the boy drink). Neal acted like nothing had happened that day and was very cheery as always which made the FBI agent wonder if he had made the right decision of getting both of them out of the office, but who could've known that all the ex-con needed some «out of the office time»?

The duo was currently laughing at a very corny joke Peter had made and Neal started coughing a little too much for the fed's liking. "Neal?" he asked him as both of their smiles suddenly turned into frowns when he realized that the male was choking. Swiftly, he got up and landed a few careful slaps on his back. Finally, the young man had coughed it up, but that only made Peter appall.

Blood. He coughed up blood. The man stood in front of him, his eyes wide, as both of them stared at the few droplets of blood on Neal's palm. "Oops..." was all the blue-eyed man said, just barely above a whisper. "This is not what you think..." he chuckled waving his hand in dismiss trying to reassure the man in front of him that he didn't just cough up blood, but to no avail. "Sure, it's not blood, it must be the ketchup that you had with your hamburger..." Peter looked at him angrily. He was, of course, being sarcastic. "*sigh* Peter..." Neal shook his head.

"No. I don't wanna hear anymore excuses. No more lies or cover-ups on this one-" "I didn't lie." "You tried to cover it up-" "Because I'm not.-" he raised his voice a bit at the end. "Don't you dare even finish that sentence." Peter shook his finger, like he was lecturing a child. "On the couch." he pointed. Neal looked at him, questioning if he was really being serious. "Now." he got his answer. It wasn't a strange thing that the ex-con man actually did react like a child (because he was childish some times) and crossed his arms stomping to the couch and taking a seat in the middle of it.

"Good." Peter said as he went to get a blanket and a thermometer. When he got back, Neal wasn't looking at him anymore, but rather ignoring him. The older man chuckled. "You're so childish..." "Well I wouldn't be so childish if you didn't treat me like a baby..." "I do not treat you like a baby!" "Yeah, sure, I'm imagining things. Oh and you can also add that to the «Neal's symptoms of being sick» list.." he replied humorlessly.

"Come on Neal. Work with me here. The sooner you get better, the sooner I'll leave you alone." "There's nothing wrong with me." "Then I guess I'm imaging things." "Yes, yes you are." the agent chuckled again. "You know that I just want what's best for you Neal..." The boy sighed, uncrossing his arms with a saddened expression as he finally met Peter's eyes again. "I know Peter..." "Then let me do this. Let me help you."

The man thought that he would almost certainly reply again with a 'I'm not sick' or 'I don't need your help', but to his surprise, he didn't say anything. The young man just took his shoes off and lied on the couch, making himself comfortable. "We do not speak of this..." he said, sounding a bit like Mozzie. Peter smiled, satisfied, and put the blue blanket over him and sticking the thermometer in his mouth. "I'll go make you some tea. Don't move!" he went to the kitchen. "I'm not making any promises!" Neal replied. "And no talking! Otherwise you're buying me a new thermometer..."