"How bout' we get outta here?" Peter said smiling as he put his hands back on the wheel.

"It's close to 2 and it's getting pretty dark." Peter said rather firmly.

"Yeah, that'd be great" Neal said a little shakily, remembering the pain in his jaw.

Even though about 10-20 minutes had passed, Neal wasn't completely healed. This thought had escaped both Neal and Peter.

He had spent nearly 2 hours freezing to death in the rain. The couldn't be cured with less than 20 minutes of heat.

Suddenly, Neal felt a sharp pain run through his arm. He lifted his sleeve to find a gash covered in dried blood.

This must have happened when I fainted on the concrete. He touched it lightly to see if it was still bleeding.

Ah! He threw his head back on the headrest and moaned in pain.

"Neal! Are you okay" Peter looked to Neal frantically. He immediately pulled the car over to the curb and shifted the car into park.

Noticing the gash, he immediately put his hand on Neal's shoulder to relax him.

Neal attempted to fidget with the injury.

Peter winced at the agonizing look of pain on Neal's face. He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Don't move, I know what to do."

He paused a moment and stared at his pain-stricken friend. "Don't worry Neal. It's okay."

Neal tried to smile but the pain prevented him from doing so. Peter saw this. He turned to him, put his hand on his shoulder once again and reminded him, "Don't move Neal. It will only hurt more."

Neal was no longer trying to cover up his pain. Suddenly the numb stupor from the cold was wearing off. His whole body began to hurt. He cried out in sheer agony. Peter couldn't bear to see Neal in so much pain. But he knew he had to maintain his composure for Neal's sake.

Neal leaned over in his seat. He figured he should try shifting positions. It didn't help.

He knew Peter said not to move but he couldn't bare it anymore. He had to try something.

"Sorry" Neal said quickly, realizing his mistake.

"Shh it's okay. I understand. It's hard not to fidget. But you have to try." He paused for a moment. "You don't have to apologize Neal."

He put his hand on Neal's back. Neal was still keeled over. He had his hands in between his knees and was swaying back and forth. He didn't know why he was doing this. But he was out of ideas, and frankly, a little disoriented.

Peter began to gently rub Neal's back. He whispered gently "It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay." This greatly relaxed Neal.

However, depsite his seemingly calm composure, Peter was terrified.

He couldn't bare to see Neal in so much pain. He knew he had to do something quick.

Neal continued to sway helplessly.

Overcome with pain, he decided to focus all of his attention into Peter's comforting palm, rather than his pain.

He began counting the amount of times Peter's hand circulated his back. He was at about 24 when suddenly he was distracted by Peter's voice.

"Yes! I knew this was in here."

Neal had noticed Peter rummaging for something in the glove compartment with his other hand through the corner of his eye. He tried to ignore it though because he had to shift his head to the left to see what he was doing and that only hurt his head more.

"At Quantico, they taught us to always be prepared." Peter said as he pulled out a very elaborate first-aid kit.

He rubbed Neal's back a few more times and then took his hand away in order to open up the kit.

"Here we go. I have everything we need. Now please Neal, I know it's hard but you have to sit still. I need to clean these injuries.

Injuries? Plural? Neal noticed then that it wasn't just the gash on his arm. He had a lot of other scars and cuts from his fall as well.

"It may sting a little but you'll feel a lot better after I'm done. I promise."

Neal sat up slowly in his seat and rested his head back on the headrest.

"I trust you Peter." Neal said quietly. He then closed his eyes, bracing himself for what was to come.

Peter smiled and gently squeezed his arm reassuringly.

Within seconds he had begun to work.

He put rubbing alcohol on his wounds, cleaned then and then delicately bandaged them.

Neal tightened his body as Peter skillfully dabbed the cut with rubbing alcohol. He winced each time at the sharp sting. Peter blew on them gently to ease the pain.

"Shh" Peter said comfortingly. He wasn't annoyed. He just wanted Neal to stop tightening his muscles. He knew that was only hurting him more.

He noticed that a few strands of wavy hair had fallen down into Neal's eyes. He brushed them back in a mildly awkward fashion.

"Relax, your doing great. Everything's fine." Peter said, trying to appear more confident than he felt.

It must of worked. For Neal did relax.

By the time Peter was on the third wound, Neal had become more accustomed to the pain. He was already beginning to feel better.

He let his muscles loosen and relaxed more into his seat. He sighed. Despite his many injuries, he felt comfortable and safe.

He trusted Peter and knew he would be okay soon. Peter felt Neal's muscles relax. He smiled. He was glad Neal was feeling better. Also, this made the process a lot easier for both of them.

He looked up at Neal. His eyes were closed and there was a small smile on his face. Peter smiled back even though he knew Neal couldn't see him.

He continued his work more quickly, with incredible precision. Once he was done, he put back the supplies in the glove compartment and cleaned his hands with a sanitizer El had put in the glove compartment just in case.

He looked over at Neal.

His eyes were still closed but he could tell he wasn't sleeping. He was just, relaxed.

"Neal, I'm finished." He gently patted his arm. "Are you feelin' better now?" Neal slowly opened his eyes and turned to Peter.

"Wow. Thank you." He said rather breathlessly, shaking his head.

"I have no idea what you did." He laughed. "But I feel so much better."

He began to loosen his arms and legs by shifting them slightly. He couldn't believe he could move his limbs so painlessly again. He looked up at his friend.

"Peter, thank you." He paused. Peter smiled as he began to rub Neal's arm.

" Of Course Neal." He stuttered, hiding his worry.

"Please, don't move too much. I know your excited but you do need to give those wounds some time to heal. Neal obeyed, ceasing to fidget and straightening himslf in his seat.

"Here" Peter said happily. "I think I have some Advil in here somewhere. You can take that for your jaw and other, non-wound related pain." He laughed.

"Wow, you really are prepared." Neal joked.

"I am a man of my word, Caffrey." Peter replied, reciprocated Neal's joking demeanor.

Neal laughed lightly as he outstreched his arm to accept the pill.

Peter handed it to him with an unopened bottle of water he got from the back seat. Neal swallowed the pill, wincing a little from the pain as he did. His throat still really hurt.

"Neal," Peter said clearing his throat.

"I noticed before that your skin is still cold. I'm worried you might be coming down with a cold or maybe even pneumonia. You know? This is the coldest it has gotten all year." A very paternal instinct began to form in Peter's voice.

Neal nodded. "I know. Just my luck" he said, choosing not to hone in on Peter's rarely utilized tone.

As if on queue, given their current discussion, Neal sneezed repeatedly into his hands. "Uh oh. Sorry, Pete-" Neal sneezed again. This time it shook his entire body.

Peter ran his hands through his pocket hurriedly and pulled out a tissue. He handed it to Neal.

"Here you go. Clean yourself up." Neal did. Peter heard the increased congestion in his voice.

"Wow, you're really sick Neal. You need to relax. And please, don't apologize." He handed him the pack of tissues.

"Here keep this." He put his hand on Neal's shoulder and rubbed. He knew this relaxed Neal.

At this moment, Neal attempted to ignore a familiar impulse. An impusle pressuring him to remain his self-reliant and independent self. To remain cut off from the affections of others for fear that they will be short lived.

Even as a small child, Neal was never truly loved or valued by his parents. His mother was hardly a maternal figure and his father abandoned him before he was even old enough to understand what that meant.

Neal Caffrey had always desired companionship. Despite his relentless fear of abandonment, Neal longed to truly be loved.

Neal looked over at Peter who was staring out the window, still rubbing Neal's shoulder.

At this moment, for the first time in life, Neal let himslef be taken care of.

He leaned his head back on the headrest and let out a small sigh of relief. He began to close his eyes.

Peter truned back to Neal. "Please try to sleep Neal. You'll feel better if you do." He continued to rub his shoulder rhythmically.

Neal shut his eyes. Peter sat patiently, continuing this comforting motion until he heard the soft sound of Neal lightly snoring. He was sound asleep.