[identity profile] josiestyle.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] whitecollarhc
Title: Head full of Cottonballs part: 2
Rating:G
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke
Spoilers: None particular
Promps Dealing with a sleeping disorder
Word Count:1448
Summary:You only appreciate it when you can't. Sleep. Neal didn't know he had a serious problem. Until he noticed some health problems.

A/N:Thank you for taking your time to read my ramblings. I am Dutch and currently learning to write "better" in English. all mistakes are mine. (About this particular form of sleeping disorder. Most of the patients are constantly tired and unable to control their feelings. When they get emotional they could fall asleep from the same spot or collapse onto the ground unable to control their muscles. Somehow I ended up with this idea because Neal has always been a great conman. But what happens when he can’t control his feelings from his serious lack of sleep? And what if he wasn’t always this good at playing smooth?)

----

This day was a disaster. Neal kept blacking out during conversations and couldn’t even focus on the letters in the files he had to read. Peter must’ve known he wasn’t at his game. Because, he personally requested Neal to take another look at some old cold-cases.

His head felt empty. Like if it was filled with little cotton balls. He tried to think of something against this feeling, then one word pushed through. Coffee. That was what he needed.
He got up from his chair and started walking towards the coffeemaker. A strong feeling of disorientation crept up on him. “Danny?” a voice whispered in his ear. Neal startled end looked around. No one was there. A sick feeling hauted him.

And when he decided to head towards the facilities he almost bumped up against Hughes. The old men looked deep into his eyes with an unreadable frown. The nausea was gone in an instant but it had left him weak and very sleepy. Hughes said something but Neal couldn’t understand what he wanted from him. So he shook his head and walked away from him. The old man didn’t bother him again. But right after he filled his ugly FBI mug with the last of the coffee he startled when a hand landed on his shoulder. The mug slipped out of his hand and didn’t bother trying to prevent himself from getting filthy by the hot brown splash afterwards. He just blinked slowly at the spots on his tie and turned himself over towards the deep sigh.

It was Peter.

‘You are sick, aren’t you? You have been sick for nearly a week, now. And if I ask you what’s wrong you’ll say: rough night. And I believed you. Until now. So. What is really wrong, Neal?’ he asked in his greatest concern. His hand never left his shoulder. In fact the pressure only increased when he silently started to sob.

He didn’t know what happened. It wasn’t something he usually did. Extremely embarrassed Neal tried to control his feelings. But he was too tired. Right then, Diana walked over and put his hat on. The rim covered half his face. Within minutes Diana and Peter guided him to the elevator and called him a taxi.
It was a busy day at the office. Peter couldn’t leave, but for Neal this day was over.
‘Get some sleep, kid. Sometimes the bureau forgets that you are a human being. Maybe I let them put you under too much pressure, lately.’ Peter gave him a stiff and formal hug after Neal finally stopped shivering from his unrealistic breakdown. Diana gave him a pat on his upper arm as he entered the elevator on his own. ‘See you tomorrow Caffrey,’ she said, smiling softly.



After Peter had send him home, Neal changed slowly into his secret dark blue hoody and one hideously oversized gray sweatpants. Then, feeling slightly more comfortable, he took his place on the dinner table. Flipped open his borrowed laptop from Mozz. And started to do some research about sleeping issues. Because. That was how it all started; wasn’t it?
Soon when he found some information about it, a concerned and jet familiar feeling crept up inside him.
This has to be it. Narcolepsy. Neal swallowed hard.
That means it was back!

‘Narcolepsy is a sleep disorder that involves excessive, uncontrollable daytime sleepiness.
It is caused by a dysfunction of the brain mechanism that controls sleeping and waking.
If you have narcolepsy, you may have “sleep attacks” while in the middle of talking, working, or even driving.’

He had it since the day his mother died. But it disappeared right after he ran away from his foster parents and stayed with Ellen until he was fifteen. No one could explain why the narcolepsy suddenly disappeared. But it just did. Although, Neal had a pretty good idea. Neal couldn’t handle stress very well. He was a sensitive child. Something had snapped when he found his mother dead onto the kitchen floor. And that image haunted him for years. No one was able to help. No one seemed to care, either.
Ellen had a soothing effect on him. She always seemed to know what he needed and when he needed it. Ellen was a strong woman who could see right through him. She was smart and warm. And Neal always liked to pretend that she was his mother.

Neal heaved a deep sigh. Every back muscle spasms as he felt the fear of losing his job over this. Why? Why again? What made him turning back to his old disorder? Stress, like Peter suggested earlier this day?
Neal remembered the time how he and Mozzie were talking about permanent living in New York. Settling in like normal civilians. Stealing an expansive car to show off by the lady’s. And somehow that was the moment Neal chose to tell his friend about his fear of getting behind the wheels. He was afraid he would fall asleep and actually kill someone and maybe himself while at it. After Neal was caught by Peter Burke and ended up in prison, Mozzie thought he could do him a favor by erasing all of the weaknesses in his file before he left the city once again.

Neal didn’t know. Until he got out and started to work as a CI. No one ever asked about his mental health and that means there wasn’t a thing mentioned about it in his file.

Being a con was all about controlling your emotions. Your expressions. Sometimes when he had to play angry he felt some weakness in his legs. Or when he was holding a gun at some point he got too excited and paralyzed right on the spot. He suddenly remembered how he felt when he was ready to shoot Fowler. He couldn’t control himself. He felt so lost. When Ellen was shot and died shortly after, he fell onto the ground. Paralyzed for a few seconds. Everyone thought it was just shock. But he knew he was actually razing red flags for his long forgotten sleeping disorder. Maybe, from that day it started all over again. His sleepless nights.

Neal didn’t understand why he had forgotten about this. Or why he didn’t recognize any of the symptoms right away when he was starting to have some sleeping issues. Although it was possible that he buried it deep inside his head. Trying to forget, who he really was.

“Danny?” he suddenly heard a sweet humming voice, right above his head. He smiled and looked up in those green bright eyes. That face! She was so beautiful. Just like he remembered her.

“Mommy,” he whispered softly. He closed his laptop and shifter on his chair towards her. “Danny Bennett. It is past bedtime. What did I tell you about getting to bed too late?” the voice turned stern. But her face was still as sweet as before. Neal grinned.
“I am not afraid of you, Mommy.” Her two hands rested on her hips. She shook her head but grinned back. Her golden curls danced around her glowing frame. Everything faded away. Only his mother matters, now.
“Oh Danny, no one is ever able to get mad at you, with those blue eyes. Come on, sweetie. I help you get ready.”

Neal smiled and got up from his chair. Suddenly confused at the empty apartment. “M-mom?”
No. He did not just hallucinate about his mother. He wasn’t a head case. He looked down at his naked legs. His pants had fallen from his narrow hips. He reached at it but got dizzy and stumbled down on to the ground. Heaving and shivering from his weakness Neal reached out for his mobile phone and dialed Mozzie. He was after all familiar with this.




Date: 2013-07-19 11:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] joy2190.livejournal.com
Keep going, youre doing a great job. It must be terrifying for a conman not to be able to control himself.

Date: 2013-07-20 02:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] marcelasue.livejournal.com
Love it, poor Neal. I want more :D

Date: 2013-07-20 02:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jpgr.livejournal.com
This is very good. I wouldn't have known you weren't comfortable with English if you hadn't said so.

A very interesting idea, giving Neal narcolepsy. I can't wait to see where you take it,

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