katikat | Attack of the random drabble: WhiCo

This one even has a name: "Like a Turtle"

Peter didn't believe that Neal lost his memory. Well, okay, he hadn't believed it until he came to pick up Neal on Monday morning to drive him to yet another neurologist and Neal opened the door.

Scuffed sneakers, white-washed blue jeans, green and brown checkered flannel shirt under a soft grey hoodie, glasses with thick black frames and no hair products whatsoever - maybe not even a comb.

That was the order in which Peter noticed Neal as he looked him over from his toes to the top of his head and back. Peter blinked. And blinked again.

Neal smiled at him uncertainly, stuffed his hands into his pockets and raised his shoulders up to his ears in what looked like an aborted shrug. He reminded Peter of a ridiculously cute myopic turtle.

"We need to find you a good doctor," Peter decided, all his doubts gone. "Now."

*giggles and runs away*