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“You okay?” Peter shot a glance over at his CI now that they were safely clear of the Howser Clinic.
“Yeah, but, um,” Neal was about to mention the fact that he needed to use the bathroom, rather urgently, but instantly thought better of it. He was sobering up, and the ordeal was embarrassing enough in retrospect without adding a bladder problem.
“Never mind, it can wait,”
“You’re sure?” Peter frowned, curious what the other man had been about to share. Neal nodded.
Reluctantly, he dropped the matter for the time being.
He began to notice how Caffrey kept moving around in his seat, but chalked it up to the strong sedative leaving his system and, in turn, his muscles.
Neal dearly wished the chemicals hadn’t been the variety that flushed out through the kidneys...
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Soon, they were at the house. Neal was slowly assisted out of the vehicle, clenching his thighs throughout. It continued as he was attemptively guided, or rather tugged along, by his handler, holding his arm under the weakened fellow’s shoulder to keep him relatively upright.
It was a halting progress forward, given that each nudge was met with hesitant steps still featuring an awkward, hunched-over stance and odd grunts.
“Are you sure you weren't hurt anywhere else?” Burke brought up his earlier concerns briefly.
“Positive. Hurry,” Neal requested tersely.
Despite this, the speed of the con man did not increase in the slightest. “You do know this is a team effort, right?” Peter pointed out dryly. He didn't say it to be mean, just to encourage a little firmly.
“Yup, trust me, doing the best I can here,” Neal breathed back before having to grab himself.
Oh. So that was the problem. Peter understood at once the situation at hand.
“Just a few more steps and you can get the rest of the way up to the bathroom on your own,” he mentioned by way of reassurance.
But it was too late for all of that. No sooner than they’d reached the top step together did the drugged heap formerly known as Neal let out a telltale gasp of surprise, which spoke volumes.
“I’m peeing on the porch, I am so sorry, Peter, honestly, I didn't mean to, it was an accident!” Caffrey was quick to apologise as a puddle gathered at his feet.
“I know, buddy, it’s the drugs, had to come out somewhere...seriously though, don't worry about it,” Peter made sure to soothe the guilt right away.
Since the agent had the sense to ring the doorbell by mere reflex before the unfortunate mishap, El appeared as soon as she could, to the sight of her husband leaning on his sopping wet consultant.
“Oh- I see we had a little accident,” she observed. “Come here, sweetie,” El made sure to avoid the mess as she hugged the patient.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Why didn't you say something sooner, buddy?” Peter had to ask. He knew he was denied an opportunity to pull over somewhere.
“-was embarrassing, after everything else you did for me,” the CI mumbled reluctantly.
Burke nodded. That was understandable.
Peter didn’t usually intervene when he saw his CI exhibit a mild need for the restroom; intuitively trusting the adult male to manage his own bodily functions as he saw fit and choose a suitable time to take care of it. This was a special circumstance, however, as he’d observed the sedative Neal received against his will, having distinctly diuretic effects, and it didn’t seem out of the question that his friend’s system might still be adjusting. With all the swagger of a kindergarten teacher, he strode over to Neal’s desk.
“Hey, time for a bathroom break?” he queried knowingly.
“No,” Neal frowned, confused why his handler even brought it up so early. Yes, there was a slight tickle down there which his overbearing handler had somehow noticed, and thus was now shepherding him to the potty like he was gonna make puddles in the bullpen or something. A little bit of a sensitive subject at the moment...
“Neal, you were drugged and then you pushed yourself to the limit regarding your bladder; I know you didn’t exactly mean to, but the point is that your body needs a little extra help right now... by going to the bathroom sooner rather than later, you with me?”
“I’m not going to have another accident, Peter, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Neal expressed that he still wasn’t over that particular humiliation.
“Neal, I really couldn’t care less if that happens... We’ll clean that up, no problem, I promise. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself for no reason,” Burke clarified gently.
“I think you’re being a tad dramatic, but okay, you win,” Neal calmly got up with a sigh.
“Wait, what do you mean ‘I win’?... Neal, it’s still your choice,” Peter held up his hands.
“So you’re saying I can’t go now? Make up your damn mind, Peter,” Neal shook his head, moving to return to his desk.
“No, by all means,” he pivoted back to encouragement. Neal looked very insecure as he left, and it hurt Peter greatly to know that he was the cause of it. Several things occurred to him as tidbits about Neal’s bathroom habits.
1- he didn’t like being told to go if he felt it was too early. Reads that as mistrust or worse, an assumption that he will have an accident (especially after the day before)
2- he treats the argument about him using the bathroom like a battle. When he decides to surrender, the other person “wins”.
3- he also easily interprets dismissive gestures as negating , forbidding him from going to the bathroom when he has chosen to, independently.
It all culminated in the conclusion that the best way to help Neal was to make him feel safe. It wasn’t about him being in charge, not really. The prompt told Neal that his usual routine for relieving himself was no longer safe. It understandably scared him, so he turned stubborn and defensive. Then he was given a good excuse for changing his pattern, but then Peter attempted to give him autonomy he didn’t need, and hence came off forbidding instead.
So now, Neal probably thought that he had to go often to avoid an accident, but also hide his breaks from Peter. Neither of which was something Peter wanted. He also couldn’t send Neal home.
Neal returned, and Peter hurried to clear the air.
“Neal, I’m sorry. Go however often or rarely you want, I just wanted you to know there's no limit to how often you can go or when precisely; when you gotta go, you gotta go,”
“If only that were true, eh?” Neal smirked good-naturedly. Peter tilted his head curiously.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, really... but there’s a reason I make a point not to go right away. There’s always a wrong time when you’re surrounded by other people,” he explained.
And there it was, cut and dry. Someone once upon a time had commented on Neal going to the bathroom being weird for some obscure social reason that he should not have been held responsible for, and as a result, Neal had been utterly and truly convinced that, unless alone, his bathroom breaks would be constantly judged for correctness.
“Not here,” Peter stressed.
“Oh, really? Were you not just trying to police whether I was going out of my free will vs on command because the latter seemed wrong to you?” Neal challenged.
“Could you just do me a favor and try to go a little more often, just for my own peace of mind?” Burke decided to give honesty a try.
“Sure,” the con replied easily. “Why didn’t you just say so?” he gave an exaggerated grin as he sat down. Then, as the agent walked away, he quickly called out “Peter”, and when the man turned around, he uttered a quiet thank you.
“No biggie,” Burke shrugged. He wasn’t sure, but he felt like he’d just lifted a weight off the younger man’s chest, the way Neal’s eyes seemed to follow him as he walked away...