I Believe In You

Hospital

Sitting across the gurney whilst riding in the ambulance, Peter ran a hand over his face, feeling utterly helpless.

Neal was lying motionless across from him, an oxygen mask placed over his unguarded, slack face. There was a cannula embedded in the crook of his arm, feeding a clear liquid into his veins. They had removed his suit-jacket, tie and button-down-shirt. Underneath, Neal was wearing a plain grey cotton t-shirt. They had elevated the gurney slightly so that his friend's head was slumped to one side and had placed his hands in half-curled fists on his hip-bones.

It was odd for Peter so see him like this. So young, weak and unconscious. Neal always seemed one step ahead of everyone else, always moving.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" He sighed.

"Well, we can't say for certain until we've run some tests in the hospital. We're bringing you to the nearest one, but as far as we've heard, emergency rooms are packed all over town. Flu season is not yet over and there were some accidents. It's rather crazy today. So, prepare yourself mentally that it might take a while to assess your partner's condition and it might even be possible he'll be sent home, if it's nothing life threatening. What I can already tell you is that the fever and sounds of his lungs indicate that he came down with something, he over-exhausted himself and passed out. I'm sure he'll be fine Mr. Burke."

"He was already suffering from a slight concussion. He almost drowned yesterday."

Peter's bad conscience seemed to disappear into a deep, dark pit and he hung his head a little.

"Almost drowned? Let me note that down. There could be a connection."

Peter closed his eyes. He needed to call El. If Neal was to be sent home with instructions and medicine, it was clearly on him to take him in and care for him. Even though his conscience told him to, he would have done it anyway. There was a primal urge residing within him to always make sure Neal was okay.

Once they had reached the nearest hospital, Neal was rushed away and Peter had time to update everyone on the current situation, including El.

After over an hour of standing in the waiting room, Peter finally managed to grab a free seat. Just as El walked in. He got up and gave her a kiss and a hug. "Hey hun." She greeted him with a worried crease on her forehead.

"Hey hun. No update yet, I'm afraid." He said.

"Well, it's super crowded in here. I saw Neal. They placed him in the hall. Along with other gurneys and beds and waiting patients. Not sure what is going on, but I feel so sorry for him." She sighed heavily, looking into her husband's kind brown eyes.

"What? Where is he?"

They walked down the hall whose walls were adorned with patients in beds awaiting their treatment. On the left, they spotted an uncomfortable looking cot, reaching up to Peter's midsection. On it, was Neal. Shivering and sweating at the same time. His eyes were slightly open and unfocused, staring up at the ceiling. Every time a shiver wracked his body, he elicited a small, suppressed groan and lightly squeezed his eyes shut for a second before opening them again to mere slits. His dark curls were plastered to his forehead, the oxygen mask replaced by a nasal cannula, his lips pressed together in a thin line and the smeared blood dried and still visible beside his mouth.

"Neal! Hey, buddy. Oh my god. Can you look at me, please?" Peter laid a hand on Neal's head and bent over his friend, who didn't seem to register his presence. El threw a hand over her mouth. "He's so pale, Peter. He can't be out here by himself, miserable like that. Where is the doctor?"

"I'm going to look for him. Stay with Neal, please."

El was trying her best to comfort the young man by speaking to him quietly, stroking his hair, cleaning the blood away with water and tissues. She had laid Peter's and her jacket across his body to give him what little warmth she could. The kid looked so out of it, it broke her heart.

"I can't believe it." Peter walked back towards her down the hall after what felt like an eternity.

He was pushing an empty wheelchair and had a paper-bag in one hand.

"Did you find a doctor?"

"I did. And I understand that it's an exceptional situation right now and everyone here is doing their best, but they could've at least given him a blanket or made him just a little more comfortable." He pointed at his shivering, unresponsive friend.

"The doc said they had briefly assessed him and his symptoms clearly indicate pneumonia and a concussion. They gave him a mild sedative and something for the pain. He suggested we'd take him home and call, if his condition should worsen. He gave me some meds, penicillin mostly, and said we should bring his fever down. El, I'm so sorry. Is that okay for you?"

"Of course it is, hun'. Let's take him home."