I Believe In You

Peter's Dream

He was kneeling on a wooden floor, bending over Neal, who was sprawled out, totally limp, his arms stretched out a little to the sides and his eyes large and scared, his mouth slightly open and to Peter's horror, a never ending stream of clear water running down the sides of his neck, expelling itself from Neal's lungs. But it didn't stop. Neal just lay there looking at him, desperation and sadness visible in his azure blue eyes. He was suffocating. He was dying! "No, Neal!" Peter's hands where on his friend's shoulders to steady him. He didn't know what to do. Why didn't the water stop? It was now filling the whole space, covering the floor, reaching up to Peter's knees. Where there should have been walls to either side, there was only blackness, an infinite stretch of darkness that surrounded them.

His heart clenched and panic settled in a deep hum inside his chest, it gripped him with such brutality, it stole his breath and made his limbs tingle. "No, no, no. God, Neal, I'm so sorry, please, please don't die on me." He could feel hot tears running down his face. He has never been an overly emotional person, but the desperation and sadness he now felt was unlike anything that had ever torn through his emotional construct in which he kept everything in place and in check. He never had a brother, a son, a best pal, a platonic soulmate. Neal was all that to him. And he could see the life draining out of him in clear liquid rivulets. The water was rising around them and he shook the young man's shoulder now, hard. Neal's head lolling from side to side a little, jostling his dark curls that were falling over his forehead, the small locks at the nape of his neck already wet. "Neal, please hold on. I'm so sorry. You can always trust me! I'll be there for you, I promise. I'll never let you down again." Peter exclaimed, biting back a sob.

At that, the water stopped.

Neal expelled the last drops with a weak cough, blinking once, then he turned his eyes towards the ceiling, absently. "Neal?"

The con's mouth closed, though his lips where still apart, revealing his teeth... and deep, dark red was welling up in the corner of his mouth, slowly rising – Peter gasped and gripped Neal's arm with bonds hands – and spilled over one side, a single red rivulet slowly running down his cheek and disappearing into the hairline along his neck. "Oh my god!" Peter followed the drop with his eyes until it ran along Neal's neck, his gaze drifting towards the floor – realizing that now, he was sitting in a pool of blood. Everything around him emanating an eerie red glow and Peter felt a deep dread of doom looming over him and his fallen friend.

Peter clenched his teeth, a deep ache settling in his heart and he laid one hand on Neal's head, stroking his forehead with his thumb.

Neal closed his eyes. Giving into unconsciousness. Into the darkness that was now closing in, rushing towards them. It was too late. "NO!" Peter screamed...

... and sat up with a loud gasp and a whimper, his hand flying towards his chest, where he could still feel the emotional pain of a loss so great it was unbearable.

"Hun? What's wrong?" El, sat up in bed beside him, running a small hand up and down his back.

"I had the worst nightmare." Peter was still trying to catch his breath. "I need to check on Neal."

"Okay. I'm sure he is fine, hun. He looked comfortable downstairs. Go ahead, I'll go get some water from the kitchen." She kissed his cheek and got up. Peter nodded and swung his legs off the side of the bed.