Graham Winslow's hotel suite. Sunday afternoon. February 29, 2004.

Sunday over lunch Graham announced his intention to return to Baltimore to help Allen Winston look for the person calling himself Mr. Hyde. A Win-Win corporate jet would come to New York Monday morning, and he'd be on his way home in the afternoon. Also arriving in New York Monday morning were two of his grandchildren who had offered to sail the Executive Decision back to its home port. Graham suggested that Henry take Neal to the Federal Building Monday morning, pick up his Winslow cousins at the airport to bring them to a restaurant for lunch with Graham, and then take the cousins to the sailboat and Graham to the jet.

To Neal it sounded as complicated as arranging a theft. But maybe that meant there was hope for him. He could try treating family gatherings as if they were a crew assembled to pull off a heist.

Even though he wasn't a Winslow he decided to enter the fray, joining the discussion of logistics by asking Noelle, "Are you going back with Graham tomorrow?"

"Not yet, sweetie. We still have several more sessions to get through before you're cleared for work."

Neal placed his glass of orange juice carefully down on the table. "Excuse me?"

"We barely scratched the surface yesterday."

"You agreed to clear me for undercover work if I met with you weekly. I kept up my side of the bargain. And now you're saying I can't go to work at all?"

"The Flashback overdose wasn't part of the original deal. It changes your situation drastically. You aren't ready to go back to work until you've dealt with the memories the drug helped you retrieve. You have to take the time for therapy, and make your mental health your top priority."

"What about the person trying to kill me? Am I supposed to forget about that, make finding him a lower priority?"

Graham put down his silverware with an audible clink. "You're supposed to remember that you're part of a team, and part of a family. Trust the FBI and Win-Win to work on the case, and let Noelle help you."

Neal leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he confronted Noelle. "What are we talking about here? A day of therapy? Two days? Two weeks? How do you decide I'm ready for work?"

She placed her napkin on the table and pushed away her plate. "The duration of therapy differs by patient. You'll need weekly sessions for quite a while. To deal with the effects of the drug, we'll need several days at a minimum. If you're up to it, we can have multiple sessions per day."

"And what's the criteria you're using to clear me for work?"

"I'm not going to give you a list of signs for you to fake to get back to work before you're ready."

"It's entirely subjective?" Neal pressed. "I thought the FBI had a test that agents had to pass after they're placed on leave to show they're ready to return to work."

"That's true. Once the psychologist believes the agent is ready, he or she is allowed to take the test as confirmation." She held up a hand before he could jump in with his next point. "Neal, being hostile about this isn't going to help. You studied psychology with Henry. Think about what you learned." She stood up. "I'm going back to my room. Meet me there in an hour and we'll start our next session."

After Noelle closed the door behind her, Neal glared at Henry. "Thanks for the help."

Henry shrugged. "She has a point. Look at it this way: You say you're in a hurry to get this over with, but you keep putting up roadblocks. From her perspective, she's doing everything she can to help you make progress, and you're the one slowing things down. If you'd stop resisting her help, you'd realize you're both on the same side."

Graham stood up and on his way out of the suite's dining room, he stopped by Neal's chair and put a hand on his shoulder. "Your aunt's a brilliant psychologist. You should try being grateful instead of resentful."

###

Peter was sitting at his dining room table updating case notes on his laptop, when his cell phone rang. Seeing Neal's name on the caller ID, he snatched up the phone. "You okay?" he asked. Already he was standing up, looking around for his shoes in case he needed to go back to the hotel.

"I can't do this, Peter. I'm getting it all wrong."

Neal sounded upset, but not in danger. Peter sank back down to his chair to focus on the call. "What are you getting wrong?"

"Family. I brought my grandmother to tears so many times that she and my grandfather finally left. She said she could tell I needed a break from them."

"Did you need a break?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, but I didn't want them to know that. I'm a vaunted con artist. I should be able to fool them. Instead I drove them away."

"You couldn't just be thankful that you have perceptive and thoughtful relatives?" Peter asked.

Neal didn't acknowledge the question. "And now I've insulted Noelle, and Henry and Graham hate me."

"You can't really believe Henry hates you," Peter said. "Calm down and tell me what happened. Why do you think Noelle is insulted?"

"We had a session yesterday, and she wants another one today and I don't want to do it. Weekly is bad enough. Daily means..." He paused for a shaky breath. "It means I'm a failure."

Peter closed his eyes in sympathy for the pain in Neal's voice. "I'm pretty sure that's not what it means."

"She won't let me go back to my job. If I can't be your consultant, what am I? I gave up crime. I don't have anything left. I'm nothing, Peter. She took it all away."

"Are you sure she said you can't ever come back to the Bureau?"

"She won't tell me when I can go back, or what I need to do convince her I'm ready. I don't know what to do. I'm nothing, now. Ellen took away my whole life."

Peter took a deep breath. "Neal, tell me where you are."

There was a pause. "In my room in Graham's suite."

"And what year is it?"

"It's 19... 2004."

"Right. And we're talking about Noelle, not Ellen. Seven years ago Ellen told you that you were in WITSEC and that turned your life upside down. Learning your identity was a fiction was a big blow. But she didn't do it to hurt you. She thought you had a right to know the truth."

"I overreacted," Neal said, sounding somewhat calmer.

"That's not for me to judge. I'd have been upset if I learned my folks were keeping a secret like that from me. But I don't believe Noelle intends to take away your identity. Can you do me a favor and talk to her? Let her know your concerns, clarify what she wants, and go ahead with one more session with her. If you still think she's being unreasonable after that, let me know. But give her a chance, okay? I honestly think she wants to help you."

###

Neal knocked on the door of Noelle's suite. The moment she opened the door he said, "I'm sorry."

"Come in." She led the way to a sectional sofa and handed him a glass of water. She curled up on one portion of the sofa while he sat on the other. "I want you to know I'm not mad at you, Neal. It's not unusual for patients to resent or dread portions of their treatment. But you need to acknowledge what you're doing and think about why you're doing it. Can you talk to me about that?"

He nodded. "When I was a kid, Mom told me that Dad was a cop. She said he'd died a hero, in a hail of gunfire, and I wanted to grow up to be like him. When I learned the truth, I was lost. My whole life, my direction, it had all been a lie. Henry found me, saved me, really. For a while, I thought what we were doing could be a direction for my life. But it was more of an escape, an interlude. It had to end. Henry has a life, a destiny even, and he needed to be free to pursue it."

Noelle looked like she wanted to say something, and Neal paused. But she shook her head. "Go on."

"I had skills that leant themselves to crime, and was determined to be the best criminal I could be. It was fun, and it satisfied my pride to get away with it. But then I ran into Peter when he was working undercover to catch the leader of a crew I'd joined. He convinced me that I could use my skills to do something... be something worthwhile."

Neal rested his head in his hands a moment before looking up at Noelle again. "When you told me I couldn't return to the FBI, I panicked. If I can't go back, I don't know what becomes of me. I know you think of it as a temporary break, but not knowing when I can go back, wondering if I'll ever be allowed to go back, it makes me feel as lost as I did when I ran away from home."

He stood up, walking around the room. "Whose life will I disrupt this time to save me? Henry's, or Peter's, or yours? I can't let any of you do that. Peter went to a lot of effort to get me this job. If I wash out, his reputation takes a hit. You've already put your life on hold. You have a professorship in Baltimore that you've been ignoring for a week to be here with me. And now you're going to stay indefinitely because I'm even more of a mess than you expected? You're not even charging me for this."

"I have cultivated a team of excellent assistants, Neal. I have much more flexibility than you realize. But thank you for explaining and sharing your concerns. That's exactly what I needed to know. Why don't you sit down, and let me propose a solution."

Neal returned to the sofa. "I'm not used to talking to people about this stuff."

"I'm honored to be the person you chose to work with as your therapist. I understand now how your work at the FBI gives you stability. I don't want to disrupt that. Would it be safe to assume that there will be a lot of paperwork resulting from your undercover assignment at Enscombe and your hospital stay?"

"Tons of it."

"I could authorize you to return to work on Monday for what's sometimes termed desk duty. You'd be able to get through that paperwork and attend some meetings. You wouldn't be allowed to do any work outside the Federal Building. I'll talk to Peter about what you can do. At the end of each day, you'll check in with him, and together you'll determine if you need a day off before you go back. If you aren't in agreement, you'll go back for a half day. Does that ease your concerns with regard to work?"

Neal nodded. "It helps."

"I want to be here for you, Neal. There is nothing else going on in my life right now that's as important as you are. However, I will admit that I didn't pack enough clothes, and I do have some papers I should return to my students at the university. If you promise to take it easy, I'll go back to Baltimore with Graham on Monday, and return to New York Tuesday afternoon, and then we'll resume our sessions that evening."

"Thank you. I'll keep things low stress."

"If you need help while I'm away, let Henry or Peter know immediately. They can arrange for you to meet with one of the Bureau's therapists."

"It's just a day. I won't need anything."

"You're probably right, but I still want you to know you can ask for help if you need it."

###

Monday morning Peter tried to treat Neal normally. He was glad to have Neal back, but also felt like they needed to treat him with kid gloves. There was barely a minute of uninterrupted time to talk when Neal arrived. He assured Peter he was fine and apologized for "freaking out on you" on Sunday. Peter confirmed that Noelle had called and cleared Neal for desk duty. He recognized that it was good for Neal to be here, and that watching him like a hawk wouldn't help. Peter told himself that the fact he was going to be swamped would be a good thing, preventing him from hovering over Neal and making the kid self-conscious.

The morning briefing was as awkward a meeting as Peter had ever led. Some team members welcomed Neal back. Others barely acknowledged him, suspicious about the passports Adler had commissioned for him. Then Peter had to explain that Agent Hitchum was on the run – suspected of tampering with the Adler case files – with OPR due to arrive soon to investigate. That announcement put everyone on edge. They all knew that when OPR investigated one member of a team, the rest of the team members were considered potential accomplices. The slightest misstep could suddenly become a big deal and your entire career and personal life could be put under the microscope.

Peter assigned Neal, Tricia and Jones to work on the Highbury case paperwork and to reconstruct the data missing from the Adler file. Tricia also spent some time looking for Kate, although Peter asked her not to tell Neal what she was doing. They didn't want to add to the pressure on Neal by causing him to worry about his ex-girlfriend.

At the end of the day, Neal stopped by Peter's office. "How'd it go?" Peter asked him. "You look a little tired."

Neal took a seat. "Yeah, Bureau paperwork can put anyone to sleep. Case file audit logs aren't much better. Things should get more interesting tomorrow."

The arrival of OPR had kept Peter running in circles. He'd meant to ask Jones and Tricia how Neal was doing, but hadn't had a chance. "Anyone giving you a hard time about those passports?"

"Nothing overt. Don't worry. We'll close the case and I'll win them over again. You warned me it wouldn't be easy. So, about tomorrow – I'm thinking no Tuesday Tails since I can't leave the building."

"Makes sense. Are you sure you want to come in Tuesday? I was thinking maybe every other day this first week."

"I'm fine, Peter."

"Easy for you to say. I can't shake the image of you on life support."

"The doctor released me, and Noelle cleared me for work. You have to let go of what happened at Enscombe. I'm over it."

Something was nagging at the back of Peter's mind. He couldn't quite put a finger on it. "Tell you what. Plan on a half day Tuesday. I'll check in on you around lunch. That way I can make sure you eat, and we'll see if you're good for the rest of the day."

"You're the boss. See you Tuesday."

It was another hour later when Peter finally went home. As he walked by Neal's empty desk, he realized it was the Tuesday Tails bit that had been bothering him. Normally being constrained to the Federal Building wouldn't prevent Neal from playing the game. The Hospital Game was essentially an indoors version of Tuesday Tails. Calling off Tuesday Tails altogether meant Neal didn't feel up to something he could excel at even when he was sick.

Tuesday morning Neal still seemed tired, but OPR kept Peter too busy to pay attention to his team after the morning briefing. He didn't realize how late it had gotten until Neal knocked on his office door, and he saw it was already 1pm. Neal smiled and handed Peter a cup of coffee. "Bureau's best brew. I thought you might want some."

"Thanks. You get something to eat?"

"Yeah, the hotel offers boxed lunches and I brought one with me."

The OPR senior agent popped in. "Agent Burke, we have a lead on where August Hitchum is staying. We're sending out a team. Do you want to join us?"

Peter stood up. "I'll be there in a second. Neal, there's no telling how long this will take. Check in with Tricia at the end of the day, okay?"

"Got it."

###

Neal did his best to avoid Tricia. Normally she was all business, but she was also a mother and she seemed to have the mom vibe going today. He suspected Peter had told her to keep watch. And he was pretty sure she would nix his coming back to work on Wednesday. Whenever Neal felt exhausted, he looked up to see Tricia staring at him.

That's why he waited until 4:45 to share a lead with her. "I've noticed a trend regarding Hitchum and a set of case files." He handed her a list of cases with copies of their summary pages.

Tricia read through the list. "These are all things you were suspected of."

"Right. All of them were tagged with James Bonds as a likely culprit, but I wasn't involved in any of them. And in each instance, it was Hitchum who tied me to the case."

"It's like he wanted to keep you on the FBI's radar."

Neal perched on her desk. "Yeah. So we've got Bickerton contacted by Mr. Hyde in the last few weeks. Churchill was working with him for a year. Some of these cases are from 2002. Makes you wonder if this Mr. Hyde was in contact with Hitchum, first. One thing all of these cases have in common is violence. If agents had gone after me for these crimes, they would have treated me as armed and dangerous, increasing the chances that I'd have been shot."

"Fortunately for you most of these were closed quickly, with the real perpetrators caught. For the few that remained we didn't consider you a serious suspect, because Peter's research indicated you weren't violent." Tricia stood up. "Good work. I need to take this to the OPR team."

Neal had already learned that there was no such thing as a short conversation with OPR. Tricia would probably be with them at least an hour. At 5:00 he walked over to Jones' desk and asked, "Any word on the search for Hitchum?"

"Looks like they uncovered his hideout, but he got away. They're still searching for any clues to where he might have gone."

"Sounds like he's smarter than I gave him credit for. Listen, I was supposed to check in with Tricia before heading home, but she's meeting with OPR."

"That could take a while. We're starting to call the conference room where they set up the Black Hole. People and files go in there and never return."

Neal smiled. "All I want to do is get a good meal and turn in. I'd rather not face the Black Hole first. If she escapes can you tell her I checked in with you, and that I'll see you both tomorrow morning?"

"Sure. I'll let her know," Jones said.

"Thanks, man." That had been the easy part. It was one thing to trick Jones. Henry, who was waiting downstairs to drive Neal back to the hotel, was another matter. Neal managed to keep his energy level up through dinner. He'd counted on Henry leaving after the meal to pick up Noelle at the airport, but her flight was delayed and she planned to catch a taxi anyway. Henry was taking the bodyguard role a little too seriously for Neal's taste. Fortunately he had a weakness Neal was willing to exploit.

Neal picked up Henry's guitar. "Do you mind?" he asked.

"Go ahead." Henry settled on the suite's living room sofa and put up his feet.

Neal played a few chords, not settling on a song yet. "Long day?"

"Mr. Hyde has done a phenomenal job of hiding his tracks. Pops has me following up on a few leads for how he got Flashback, but I didn't make much progress. How about you?"

"Learning more about government paperwork and bureaucracy than I'd like." Neal sat on the ottoman and started with "Wanted Dead or Alive" by Bon Jovi. He knew that one would make Henry smile. They harmonized on it, with Henry growing more relaxed by the moment as Neal approached the song as a ballad rather than rocking it out. Then he played "Learn to Be Still" by the Eagles. By the time Neal finished singing, Henry was asleep.

With his cat burglar skills, Neal was able to put the guitar away and retreat to his room without waking Henry. All Neal wanted was to get some sleep and to avoid being questioned about why he was tired so early in the evening. And really, it was no big deal. A few nightmares waking him up through the last two nights were nothing. What did people expect after what happened at Enscombe? He'd thought he was going to die before George Knightley had the idea of using the helicopter to get him to the hospital. Anyone would have nightmares after something like that. But everyone would assume that Neal was having nightmares about his childhood.

The fact was, Neal didn't remember what the nightmares were about, just that he kept waking up with his heart racing. Sunday night he'd woken up three times. Monday night it had been more often – almost hourly. That meant he was so tired that he'd sleep soundly tonight, he was sure.

A/N: Poor, deluded Neal.