![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elrhiarhodanTitle: Picking Up The Pieces Left Behind (Here I Go Again)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Elizabeth Burke, Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Peter-Neal friendship, Neal-Elizabeth friendship
Spoilers: All of Season 4 through 4.10
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~3000
Beta Credit:coffeethyme4me and jrosemary
Summary: A tag to the end of Episode 4.10, Vested Interest. After Peter gives Neal the news, Neal has to confront his demons head on.
A/N: Title from Annie Lennox’s A Thousand Beautiful Things. This is my one purely gen story for the year.
__________________
Peter had gone back to the office about two hours ago and El wasn’t expecting any visitors. When the doorbell rang, she roused Satchmo with a gentle nudge before answering the door. She used to think that the Lab wasn’t good for protection; that he was more inclined to invite strangers in for coffee than scare them off. But he had proved her wrong after the events last summer; Satchmo was a good guard dog and he’d do his best to keep strangers from hurting her.
Satch gave her the stink-eye and ambled back to his bed when the visitor wasn’t some stranger hell-bent on harming her, but a rattled-looking Neal.
“Sweetie, what’s the matter?”
“Is Peter home yet?” Neal looked devastated, and if she wasn’t mistaken, there were tear stains on his cheeks.
“No, he went back to the office. He wanted to be there when the DNA report …” El came to an abrupt halt when Neal turned paler.
Neal wandered over to the couch and sat down, head in his hands. “The results have come in. He’s not Sam Phelps – and you wouldn’t believe who he is if you saw the test results.”
Elizabeth got a sick feeling in her stomach, that she knew who the mysterious Sam really was.
“Neal?”
“Hell, you should probably call me Luke – because my life’s just become a scene right out of The Empire Strikes Back." He gave a bitter laugh. "You know, that scene.”
At a loss for words, she sat down next to Neal, and took his hand. “I can’t begin to imagine what you’re feeling now.” She squeezed his fingers, trying to transmit all the love and compassion she felt for this troubled man through this simple touch.
Neal looked down at their joined hands; he couldn't seem to meet her eyes. “From the time I was five, all I wanted to be was a police officer. I wanted to protect and serve, just like my hero daddy. I wanted to save the innocent, put the bad guys in jail. My dreams were simple. They didn't involve any pretense, any lies. I was going to be a man with a badge and a job to do. Everyone told me I was wasting my talents – I could do anything, be anything."
He sighed and El could feel Neal's bitter anger like a living thing. "I was too smart, too talented to be just a cop. But my father was a cop; he died saving people's lives. At least that's what my mother told me – when she talked to me. And I wanted to be just like him."
Elizabeth had heard a version of this from Peter, but it broke her heart still.
"And it was all a lie. Daddy wasn't a hero. On my seventeenth birthday, Ellen told me the truth about my father and all those dreams turned to dust.”
Neal paused, took a deep breath and continued, clearly in pain. “When I found out that my father was nothing more than a corrupt cop, so dirty that he killed a man, it was like my life had no meaning anymore. I couldn’t be Danny Brooks, I wouldn’t be Neal Bennett.” He stopped, swallowing hard and tipping his head back to keep the tears from falling.
“And so, Neal Caffrey was born?”
“Yeah. If I couldn’t be a cop, I’d be a criminal – the best damn criminal in the world. How stupid is that?”
She held on to Neal’s hand; if she let go, he might just drift away on a cloud of pain and disappointment. “What happened tonight?”
“When I asked Sam – fuck – James, why, he said he wanted to get to know his son. He wanted to protect me.” The sound that came from Neal’s lips was terrifying, a laugh so bitter it made the hair on the nape of her neck stand up. “As if I needed protection, now.”
Neal stood up, breaking the physical connection; he paced the room like a caged lion. How different he was from the slightly smug and insouciant young man who appeared at the door one October morning two years ago. She couldn’t imagine caring for that Neal Caffrey the way she did for this Neal, whose life was shaped by constant tragedy.
She said the only thing she could think of, the only thing that might soothe Neal. “Peter will be home soon.” The subtext was obvious – Peter, and only Peter could make things right.
“I’d give anything to turn back the clock.”
She wasn’t sure she understood that statement. “To when you were seventeen?”
“No – to last week.”
“I thought you two had patched things up?” Peter had told her what Neal had said about his faith in him.
“We did – but …” Neal shook his head. “It still doesn’t excuse things.”
“You’re still angry at Peter?”
“No. At myself.” Neal sat down again. “Did he tell you when he was leaving the office? Do you know if he’s on his way home, or is he going to be pulling an all-nighter?”
“No, but …”
“I need to see him – to talk to him.” Neal had gotten up to leave when the front door opened. Elizabeth was grateful for her husband’s excellent timing. She didn’t know how she’d have kept Neal here if he were determined to go find Peter.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
There were days that seemed to go on and on without end. This was one of them. He wanted to go home, crawl into bed, hold onto his wife and not think about the trouble that just landed. To say his heart was breaking for Neal would be indulging in the worst of clichés, but it was the damn truth. In a relationship filled with tragic and difficult moments, the one he just had was the worst.
In a way, it was much worse than seeing Kate go up in a ball of fire and greasy smoke. Maybe because he wasn't there to keep Neal from doing something stupid. And as much as he wanted to just pull the covers over his head and fall into oblivion, he knew this day was far from over. He'd tell El what had happened, then head over to Neal's and probably have it out with James Bennett, alias Sam Phelps.
He couldn't even begin to understand why the man had led them all on this wild goose chase – like he told El, he couldn't get a read on him. But maybe now, with the biggest secret of all revealed, he could pry into his motivations. Everything seemed too convenient – Ellen is killed and he shows up. He gets caught and beaten by the son of the man he puts in jail, and the guy just escapes.
Every instinct Peter had told him that Sam Phelps was wrong, and those instincts had immediately gone into overdrive when he learned that Phelps was really James Bennett. He wasn’t sure that Neal’s father was greedy and dirty or even the killer he had been labeled, but Peter was certain that that the longer James Bennett stayed around, the more likely that he was going to hurt Neal.
And that would be – to a very great extent – his fault. Had he not pushed Neal into looking into his past, maybe Ellen Parker would still be alive. Peter didn't believe that it was his contact with Ellen when he was looking for Neal, or even when Collins located her, that lead her killer to her. No, it was when she reached out to the mysterious undercover cop, to “Sam", that all hell broke loose. Dennis Flynn might be a thug, but he didn't have the juice, the connections, the intelligence to put those pieces together.
He wondered how Bennett convinced Ellen that he was her old colleague, what he said and did to manipulate an otherwise very perceptive, very smart woman. It might matter, it might not.
Peter sat in his car, thinking that he should have gone right to Neal's. But he was home, and the least he could do was go in, talk to Elizabeth – get the moral support only she could give him – and head back across the bridge.
As he put the key in the door, Peter was surprised to hear voices – El's gentle murmur, and a deeper, more agitated voice. One he recognized. One that gave him intense relief. Neal's voice.
He was here.
He opened the door and absently greeted Satchmo, taking in the scene in front of him. El was - El, but focused on Neal. Neal looked wrecked. It wasn't anything physical. He was still wearing a suit and tie, his hair was just slightly mussed, as if he had run his fingers through it, but otherwise, he was as neat and well groomed as he usually was. No, it was Neal’s expression. So naked and filled with pain – a look that was all too familiar these days. Peter almost forgot to breathe as the anguish slid into something else – into relief.
El gave him a speaking glance and a kiss, squeezed Neal's arm and left. Peter wanted to call her back, to discover what Neal had told her.
Neal stood there, hands in his pockets, dejection written in every line of his posture. Peter went to the fridge and retrieved two bottles of beer. He knew that this was a moment that didn't call for wine. He popped the tops and handed one to Neal and went out onto the patio, not looking to see if Neal followed him.
Thankfully, Neal did. They stood there in the warm evening air, the vague sounds of traffic a murmuring counterpoint to their silence. There was tension there, a tight thread that needed breaking.
“Where’s Sam?”
“James.” Neal’s one word reply contained a wealth of bitterness and anger.
Peter wasn’t sure what do make of those emotions. “Where’s James?”
“I left him in the apartment. Moz is keeping an eye out.”
“You left him with Moz?” That baffled Peter more than anything.
“He’s in the security room he set up for June; there are cameras at all the exits. He’ll tail him if he leaves and let me know where the son of a bitch is heading. Moz isn’t equipped to handle Sam – James face-to-face. He doesn’t have the right weapons.”
For a moment, Peter thought Neal was speaking metaphorically.
“I’m surprised you’re here, Neal.” He sat down and watched the other man pace the length of the small patio.
“Why?” Neal finally dropped into the seat across from him.
“I thought … well – ”
“You thought I’d be enjoying my reunion with my long-lost father? Welcoming him back like he was the prodigal child? Listening to all of the excuses he made for all the crimes he committed? Swallowing even more lies?”
“I’m sorry, Neal – for this, for everything.”
Neal gave him a steady look over the beer bottle. “None of this is your fault.” He carefully placed the bottle on the table, as if its exact position was of the utmost importance. “Nothing is your fault. Despite my words to the contrary.”
Peter was officially puzzled.
Neal picked up on his confusion. “We’ve known each other a long time.”
“Almost a decade now.” Peter didn’t know where this was going.
“The last two years …” Neal let the words linger.
“Have been something of a wild ride.” He completed the thought with a fond smile.
But Neal didn’t share in the amusement. “I’ve come close to wrecking your life more than a few times. Too many times.”
“Neal – you’re my friend.” Peter still didn’t know what was going on in the other man’s head.
“You risked your life, your career, your family for me. And when things didn't go my way – I told you to get lost.”
“You were upset.”
“I’m not a child, Peter. I only seem to behave like one.” Neal took a deep swallow of beer. “Once again, you put everything on the line for me. I treated you like dirt.”
Peter didn’t want to tell Neal that it was okay. It was – and it wasn’t. “We’ve moved past it, I hope.”
“You mean, you’ve forgiven me for behaving like an ungrateful brat?”
Choosing his words with care, Peter spoke slowly. “No – it means that I understood that I broke my promise to you. I interfered when I shouldn’t have.”
“And you’re oh-so-grateful that I’ve forgiven you, right?”
“Yes.” It was more complicated than that, but he could see that Neal was in the mood for self-flagellation. “At least, I hope you’ve forgiven me.”
“You did nothing wrong, Peter. There was nothing to be forgiven for. Like you have since the beginning – you were watching out for me, you were trying to keep me from making another boneheaded mistake. I wonder if I deserve it.”
Peter got up and stood in front of Neal, he placed his hands on his shoulders, feeling strength and small, constant tremors. “You do deserve it, Neal. You’re my friend.”
Something crumbled in Neal’s face, his posture. He shook his head. “Some damn friend – I blamed you for Ellen’s – ” He gulped air, as if to swallow a sob. “For her murder. I told you it was your fault that they found and killed her.”
Kneeling, so they were eye to eye, Peter squeezed Neal’s shoulders. “Maybe it was.”
“No – you didn’t go digging for her. Collins was the one who found her. He’s the one who exposed her.”
“But I was the one who told you to ask her about your father. If I hadn’t – if we had both let sleeping dogs lie, maybe she’d still be alive.” Peter stood up; it was his turn to pace in agitation. “I will always live with that question, that guilt.”
He tilted his head back. It was a full moon and a clear night. Despite the high, drifting clouds, the moon glowed like an unquenchable beacon. Fireflies danced in the greenery, their ephemeral sparks a graceful counterpoint.
“Do you think he killed her?”
Peter didn’t turn when Neal joined him. They stood shoulder to shoulder. “We have to consider that possibility. It was one of the reasons why I didn’t want you meeting with him.”
“He has an agenda.”
Peter’s eyes tracked the moon. “Yup. That he does.”
“He said he wants to clear his name, that he was framed for that murder thirty years ago. That’s why he pretended to be Sam Phelps.”
Peter finally turned to look at Neal. The moonlight cast enough shadows to make reading him impossible. “Do you believe him?”
“Part of me wants to. The boy who has no actually memories of his father, the boy who idolized the hero his mother created for him, wants to.” Neal’s lips curved into a tight, embittered line. “The man who has spent most of the last two years working within the justice system knows that that is unlikely. James Bennett isn’t innocent, as much as little Neal Bennett wants him to be.”
“But if he is?” Peter knew that Neal’s current level of skepticism about his father might not last. He had long realized that there was something in Neal that was looking for a father. He wasn’t ever going to be the one to fill that role. They were too close; there was too much give and take between them to ever characterize their relationship as father-and-son.
“If he is, that would be … wonderful.” There was too much ambivalence.
“Do you want to be his son, if he is innocent?”
Neal took a deep breath. “I don’t know – I don’t think so. I’m not Moz, forever pinning my hopes on the impossible. Knowing that I’m not the son of a murderer would bring me a little peace, but I can’t be expected to embrace James Bennett and call him ‘daddy’.”
“It’s a mess. And it’s only going to get worse the more we dig.”
“And you could be back on the firing line if we’re not careful. Elizabeth could be in danger, too.”
Peter had considered that. “As could Moz and June. This will be worse than Mentor – at least then we knew who the enemy was inside the FBI.”
Neal laughed. “Did you ever think you’d wish we could go up against Fowler again?”
Peter couldn’t help but smile. “The thought had crossed my mind.”
They stood there, in a silence less fraught, more companionable.
This time it was Neal who spoke first. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“The other day, when I was still so angry – just before we were about to talk on that panel – you said, ‘There’s the Neal Caffrey I know and love.’ Did you mean it when you said 'love'?”
This time, Peter didn’t have to take care with his words. “There are a very few people in my life that I’d ever say that to - even when I'm angry. I can count them on the fingers of one hand.” There was a sudden, sharp ache. “I always liked you, hell – even when you were conning your way around the world. You're a part of me, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you in it.” Peter was struck by a memory, another conversation with Neal. He had been talking about what his life would have been like if he hadn’t joined the FBI, if he hadn’t had the chance to meet Elizabeth.
“It’s a strange and terrible thing to say, but the best day of my life was when you snagged my file. I don’t want to think of who I’d be, where I’d be if … if you weren’t here for me.”
Whatever Peter was about to say – and later on, he couldn’t remember a word of it – was cut off when Neal flung himself into his arms, holding onto him for dear life. Peter wrapped his own arms around Neal, thinking of all the ways that life could have shaped him, and of all the problems that they were going to face.
He knew – with bone-deep certainty – that this friendship was worth almost every sacrifice.
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Elizabeth Burke, Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Peter-Neal friendship, Neal-Elizabeth friendship
Spoilers: All of Season 4 through 4.10
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~3000
Beta Credit:
coffeethyme4me and jrosemary Summary: A tag to the end of Episode 4.10, Vested Interest. After Peter gives Neal the news, Neal has to confront his demons head on.
A/N: Title from Annie Lennox’s A Thousand Beautiful Things. This is my one purely gen story for the year.
Peter had gone back to the office about two hours ago and El wasn’t expecting any visitors. When the doorbell rang, she roused Satchmo with a gentle nudge before answering the door. She used to think that the Lab wasn’t good for protection; that he was more inclined to invite strangers in for coffee than scare them off. But he had proved her wrong after the events last summer; Satchmo was a good guard dog and he’d do his best to keep strangers from hurting her.
Satch gave her the stink-eye and ambled back to his bed when the visitor wasn’t some stranger hell-bent on harming her, but a rattled-looking Neal.
“Sweetie, what’s the matter?”
“Is Peter home yet?” Neal looked devastated, and if she wasn’t mistaken, there were tear stains on his cheeks.
“No, he went back to the office. He wanted to be there when the DNA report …” El came to an abrupt halt when Neal turned paler.
Neal wandered over to the couch and sat down, head in his hands. “The results have come in. He’s not Sam Phelps – and you wouldn’t believe who he is if you saw the test results.”
Elizabeth got a sick feeling in her stomach, that she knew who the mysterious Sam really was.
“Neal?”
“Hell, you should probably call me Luke – because my life’s just become a scene right out of The Empire Strikes Back." He gave a bitter laugh. "You know, that scene.”
At a loss for words, she sat down next to Neal, and took his hand. “I can’t begin to imagine what you’re feeling now.” She squeezed his fingers, trying to transmit all the love and compassion she felt for this troubled man through this simple touch.
Neal looked down at their joined hands; he couldn't seem to meet her eyes. “From the time I was five, all I wanted to be was a police officer. I wanted to protect and serve, just like my hero daddy. I wanted to save the innocent, put the bad guys in jail. My dreams were simple. They didn't involve any pretense, any lies. I was going to be a man with a badge and a job to do. Everyone told me I was wasting my talents – I could do anything, be anything."
He sighed and El could feel Neal's bitter anger like a living thing. "I was too smart, too talented to be just a cop. But my father was a cop; he died saving people's lives. At least that's what my mother told me – when she talked to me. And I wanted to be just like him."
Elizabeth had heard a version of this from Peter, but it broke her heart still.
"And it was all a lie. Daddy wasn't a hero. On my seventeenth birthday, Ellen told me the truth about my father and all those dreams turned to dust.”
Neal paused, took a deep breath and continued, clearly in pain. “When I found out that my father was nothing more than a corrupt cop, so dirty that he killed a man, it was like my life had no meaning anymore. I couldn’t be Danny Brooks, I wouldn’t be Neal Bennett.” He stopped, swallowing hard and tipping his head back to keep the tears from falling.
“And so, Neal Caffrey was born?”
“Yeah. If I couldn’t be a cop, I’d be a criminal – the best damn criminal in the world. How stupid is that?”
She held on to Neal’s hand; if she let go, he might just drift away on a cloud of pain and disappointment. “What happened tonight?”
“When I asked Sam – fuck – James, why, he said he wanted to get to know his son. He wanted to protect me.” The sound that came from Neal’s lips was terrifying, a laugh so bitter it made the hair on the nape of her neck stand up. “As if I needed protection, now.”
Neal stood up, breaking the physical connection; he paced the room like a caged lion. How different he was from the slightly smug and insouciant young man who appeared at the door one October morning two years ago. She couldn’t imagine caring for that Neal Caffrey the way she did for this Neal, whose life was shaped by constant tragedy.
She said the only thing she could think of, the only thing that might soothe Neal. “Peter will be home soon.” The subtext was obvious – Peter, and only Peter could make things right.
“I’d give anything to turn back the clock.”
She wasn’t sure she understood that statement. “To when you were seventeen?”
“No – to last week.”
“I thought you two had patched things up?” Peter had told her what Neal had said about his faith in him.
“We did – but …” Neal shook his head. “It still doesn’t excuse things.”
“You’re still angry at Peter?”
“No. At myself.” Neal sat down again. “Did he tell you when he was leaving the office? Do you know if he’s on his way home, or is he going to be pulling an all-nighter?”
“No, but …”
“I need to see him – to talk to him.” Neal had gotten up to leave when the front door opened. Elizabeth was grateful for her husband’s excellent timing. She didn’t know how she’d have kept Neal here if he were determined to go find Peter.
There were days that seemed to go on and on without end. This was one of them. He wanted to go home, crawl into bed, hold onto his wife and not think about the trouble that just landed. To say his heart was breaking for Neal would be indulging in the worst of clichés, but it was the damn truth. In a relationship filled with tragic and difficult moments, the one he just had was the worst.
In a way, it was much worse than seeing Kate go up in a ball of fire and greasy smoke. Maybe because he wasn't there to keep Neal from doing something stupid. And as much as he wanted to just pull the covers over his head and fall into oblivion, he knew this day was far from over. He'd tell El what had happened, then head over to Neal's and probably have it out with James Bennett, alias Sam Phelps.
He couldn't even begin to understand why the man had led them all on this wild goose chase – like he told El, he couldn't get a read on him. But maybe now, with the biggest secret of all revealed, he could pry into his motivations. Everything seemed too convenient – Ellen is killed and he shows up. He gets caught and beaten by the son of the man he puts in jail, and the guy just escapes.
Every instinct Peter had told him that Sam Phelps was wrong, and those instincts had immediately gone into overdrive when he learned that Phelps was really James Bennett. He wasn’t sure that Neal’s father was greedy and dirty or even the killer he had been labeled, but Peter was certain that that the longer James Bennett stayed around, the more likely that he was going to hurt Neal.
And that would be – to a very great extent – his fault. Had he not pushed Neal into looking into his past, maybe Ellen Parker would still be alive. Peter didn't believe that it was his contact with Ellen when he was looking for Neal, or even when Collins located her, that lead her killer to her. No, it was when she reached out to the mysterious undercover cop, to “Sam", that all hell broke loose. Dennis Flynn might be a thug, but he didn't have the juice, the connections, the intelligence to put those pieces together.
He wondered how Bennett convinced Ellen that he was her old colleague, what he said and did to manipulate an otherwise very perceptive, very smart woman. It might matter, it might not.
Peter sat in his car, thinking that he should have gone right to Neal's. But he was home, and the least he could do was go in, talk to Elizabeth – get the moral support only she could give him – and head back across the bridge.
As he put the key in the door, Peter was surprised to hear voices – El's gentle murmur, and a deeper, more agitated voice. One he recognized. One that gave him intense relief. Neal's voice.
He was here.
He opened the door and absently greeted Satchmo, taking in the scene in front of him. El was - El, but focused on Neal. Neal looked wrecked. It wasn't anything physical. He was still wearing a suit and tie, his hair was just slightly mussed, as if he had run his fingers through it, but otherwise, he was as neat and well groomed as he usually was. No, it was Neal’s expression. So naked and filled with pain – a look that was all too familiar these days. Peter almost forgot to breathe as the anguish slid into something else – into relief.
El gave him a speaking glance and a kiss, squeezed Neal's arm and left. Peter wanted to call her back, to discover what Neal had told her.
Neal stood there, hands in his pockets, dejection written in every line of his posture. Peter went to the fridge and retrieved two bottles of beer. He knew that this was a moment that didn't call for wine. He popped the tops and handed one to Neal and went out onto the patio, not looking to see if Neal followed him.
Thankfully, Neal did. They stood there in the warm evening air, the vague sounds of traffic a murmuring counterpoint to their silence. There was tension there, a tight thread that needed breaking.
“Where’s Sam?”
“James.” Neal’s one word reply contained a wealth of bitterness and anger.
Peter wasn’t sure what do make of those emotions. “Where’s James?”
“I left him in the apartment. Moz is keeping an eye out.”
“You left him with Moz?” That baffled Peter more than anything.
“He’s in the security room he set up for June; there are cameras at all the exits. He’ll tail him if he leaves and let me know where the son of a bitch is heading. Moz isn’t equipped to handle Sam – James face-to-face. He doesn’t have the right weapons.”
For a moment, Peter thought Neal was speaking metaphorically.
“I’m surprised you’re here, Neal.” He sat down and watched the other man pace the length of the small patio.
“Why?” Neal finally dropped into the seat across from him.
“I thought … well – ”
“You thought I’d be enjoying my reunion with my long-lost father? Welcoming him back like he was the prodigal child? Listening to all of the excuses he made for all the crimes he committed? Swallowing even more lies?”
“I’m sorry, Neal – for this, for everything.”
Neal gave him a steady look over the beer bottle. “None of this is your fault.” He carefully placed the bottle on the table, as if its exact position was of the utmost importance. “Nothing is your fault. Despite my words to the contrary.”
Peter was officially puzzled.
Neal picked up on his confusion. “We’ve known each other a long time.”
“Almost a decade now.” Peter didn’t know where this was going.
“The last two years …” Neal let the words linger.
“Have been something of a wild ride.” He completed the thought with a fond smile.
But Neal didn’t share in the amusement. “I’ve come close to wrecking your life more than a few times. Too many times.”
“Neal – you’re my friend.” Peter still didn’t know what was going on in the other man’s head.
“You risked your life, your career, your family for me. And when things didn't go my way – I told you to get lost.”
“You were upset.”
“I’m not a child, Peter. I only seem to behave like one.” Neal took a deep swallow of beer. “Once again, you put everything on the line for me. I treated you like dirt.”
Peter didn’t want to tell Neal that it was okay. It was – and it wasn’t. “We’ve moved past it, I hope.”
“You mean, you’ve forgiven me for behaving like an ungrateful brat?”
Choosing his words with care, Peter spoke slowly. “No – it means that I understood that I broke my promise to you. I interfered when I shouldn’t have.”
“And you’re oh-so-grateful that I’ve forgiven you, right?”
“Yes.” It was more complicated than that, but he could see that Neal was in the mood for self-flagellation. “At least, I hope you’ve forgiven me.”
“You did nothing wrong, Peter. There was nothing to be forgiven for. Like you have since the beginning – you were watching out for me, you were trying to keep me from making another boneheaded mistake. I wonder if I deserve it.”
Peter got up and stood in front of Neal, he placed his hands on his shoulders, feeling strength and small, constant tremors. “You do deserve it, Neal. You’re my friend.”
Something crumbled in Neal’s face, his posture. He shook his head. “Some damn friend – I blamed you for Ellen’s – ” He gulped air, as if to swallow a sob. “For her murder. I told you it was your fault that they found and killed her.”
Kneeling, so they were eye to eye, Peter squeezed Neal’s shoulders. “Maybe it was.”
“No – you didn’t go digging for her. Collins was the one who found her. He’s the one who exposed her.”
“But I was the one who told you to ask her about your father. If I hadn’t – if we had both let sleeping dogs lie, maybe she’d still be alive.” Peter stood up; it was his turn to pace in agitation. “I will always live with that question, that guilt.”
He tilted his head back. It was a full moon and a clear night. Despite the high, drifting clouds, the moon glowed like an unquenchable beacon. Fireflies danced in the greenery, their ephemeral sparks a graceful counterpoint.
“Do you think he killed her?”
Peter didn’t turn when Neal joined him. They stood shoulder to shoulder. “We have to consider that possibility. It was one of the reasons why I didn’t want you meeting with him.”
“He has an agenda.”
Peter’s eyes tracked the moon. “Yup. That he does.”
“He said he wants to clear his name, that he was framed for that murder thirty years ago. That’s why he pretended to be Sam Phelps.”
Peter finally turned to look at Neal. The moonlight cast enough shadows to make reading him impossible. “Do you believe him?”
“Part of me wants to. The boy who has no actually memories of his father, the boy who idolized the hero his mother created for him, wants to.” Neal’s lips curved into a tight, embittered line. “The man who has spent most of the last two years working within the justice system knows that that is unlikely. James Bennett isn’t innocent, as much as little Neal Bennett wants him to be.”
“But if he is?” Peter knew that Neal’s current level of skepticism about his father might not last. He had long realized that there was something in Neal that was looking for a father. He wasn’t ever going to be the one to fill that role. They were too close; there was too much give and take between them to ever characterize their relationship as father-and-son.
“If he is, that would be … wonderful.” There was too much ambivalence.
“Do you want to be his son, if he is innocent?”
Neal took a deep breath. “I don’t know – I don’t think so. I’m not Moz, forever pinning my hopes on the impossible. Knowing that I’m not the son of a murderer would bring me a little peace, but I can’t be expected to embrace James Bennett and call him ‘daddy’.”
“It’s a mess. And it’s only going to get worse the more we dig.”
“And you could be back on the firing line if we’re not careful. Elizabeth could be in danger, too.”
Peter had considered that. “As could Moz and June. This will be worse than Mentor – at least then we knew who the enemy was inside the FBI.”
Neal laughed. “Did you ever think you’d wish we could go up against Fowler again?”
Peter couldn’t help but smile. “The thought had crossed my mind.”
They stood there, in a silence less fraught, more companionable.
This time it was Neal who spoke first. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“The other day, when I was still so angry – just before we were about to talk on that panel – you said, ‘There’s the Neal Caffrey I know and love.’ Did you mean it when you said 'love'?”
This time, Peter didn’t have to take care with his words. “There are a very few people in my life that I’d ever say that to - even when I'm angry. I can count them on the fingers of one hand.” There was a sudden, sharp ache. “I always liked you, hell – even when you were conning your way around the world. You're a part of me, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you in it.” Peter was struck by a memory, another conversation with Neal. He had been talking about what his life would have been like if he hadn’t joined the FBI, if he hadn’t had the chance to meet Elizabeth.
“It’s a strange and terrible thing to say, but the best day of my life was when you snagged my file. I don’t want to think of who I’d be, where I’d be if … if you weren’t here for me.”
Whatever Peter was about to say – and later on, he couldn’t remember a word of it – was cut off when Neal flung himself into his arms, holding onto him for dear life. Peter wrapped his own arms around Neal, thinking of all the ways that life could have shaped him, and of all the problems that they were going to face.
He knew – with bone-deep certainty – that this friendship was worth almost every sacrifice.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 01:33 am (UTC)I also love the way Peter tries to bring Neal back from the edge here, wanting to stop Neal's over-keen sense of guilt from devouring him. Peter's willing to take responsibility for the mistakes he made, and he doesn't want to see Neal do anything more than exactly the same.
And the ending--absolutely perfect! Thank you for a wonderful story. :D
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 01:35 am (UTC)That's the beauty of the show - the relationship is so multi-faceted - it welcomes all viewpoints equally.
Thank you for your lovely comments - especially about the ending, which I was worried about.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 01:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 01:47 am (UTC)And I do agree - their relationship almost defies definition.
♥ you
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 02:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 02:20 am (UTC)That being said, this is a lovely piece of open dialogue between the characters. It rings true to the voice of Vested Interest where we see open, honest words between the two. \o/ for a great tag!
Thanks so much....and who exactly thinks James is a goody? I mean really he left his son for 30 years. Even if he is innocent, who does that? No, James is a deadbeat father (and I should know I have one).
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 02:35 am (UTC)And most definitely there is equal blame - Peter broke his promise, Neal didn't, not technically. And their motivations were the best - but just wrongheaded.
James, whether he's not guilty of the crimes he was charged with or not, is not a good man, not by any stretch of the imagination. But he has played on Neal's heart - his large, very vulnerable heart - and that may come back and haunt both of them.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 02:53 am (UTC)For some reason tonight I was thinking of the Peter vs James storyline, Although some have compared it to "Luke - I am your father", Sometimes it compares to the adoptive parent vs biologic parent: and which/who has the strongest pull on Neal.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 03:29 pm (UTC)I don't see Peter and Neal as having a father and son relationship - but there are parental elements in Peter's concern. I don't know how much pull Sam/James is going to have on Neal - that's going to be what's interesting in the back half.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 05:47 am (UTC)Very cute Neal&Peter heart-to-heart; makes waiting for the canon resolution more bearable (even though the hiatus has just started).
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 11:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 03:32 pm (UTC)Telling me that you can "hear" the conversation lets me know that my storytelling powers are still alive and working.
And especial thanks for the kind words about the ending, I was worried that it felt too forced.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 12:19 pm (UTC)This is why I love this tag so much, it feels right and true to character and it touches on some issues from the latest episodes that the boys really Neal to think and talk about... I hope they will in 4.5...
Thank you \o/
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 03:34 pm (UTC)I too don't think it would be at all plausible for Neal to accept James as a father figure - or even a person he could respect. Not only was the man's absence in his life for 30 years inexplicable, as Sam, he's manipulated Neal over and over again.
There's so much more I find myself wanting to say about this character - not to explain motivation, but the reactions to things he's done. Maybe Mozzie's POV?
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 03:35 pm (UTC)Yeah - I don't know (and I doubt) that the show will really go there. I think we got most of the emotion that we're going to get.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 04:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 04:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 05:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-02 12:45 pm (UTC)Yeah - I think this is the first time that Neal can really let himself open up. He wanted to with Sam - who was a link to his past, but not anymore (I hope). He NEEDS this with Peter, however the relationship is defined.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 05:45 pm (UTC)I loved that line.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-02 12:47 pm (UTC)But yeah - think what might have happened to Neal if Peter hadn't been the one to catch him!
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 06:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-02 12:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-02 12:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 11:25 pm (UTC)And I do love me some Neal-El friendship fics too - I wish there were more of them.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 09:20 pm (UTC)I do hope in canon that Neal doesn't suddenly believe and trust "Sam/James" and cut Peter out.
I'm sure your take on it is going to be so much better than the next episode!
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 11:18 pm (UTC)I don't think that Neal is going to welcome James into his life with open arms, but I think he's going to be less suspicious of him than Peter. Or maybe not. It's going to be an interesting interval - less fraught than the last two years, but that's good, too.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 10:22 pm (UTC)(Also I know it's gen but it's still slash in my headcanon ;) sorry)
no subject
Date: 2012-09-29 11:11 pm (UTC)I think Coffeethyme said it best, it's heart!slash - because what they have is so much more than a tame friendship, even in canon.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-30 12:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-01 07:05 pm (UTC)While a father-son relationship can be complex in its mechanisms, it's also a very simplistic explanation, too.
I just think that the dynamic we see is more than that.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-30 08:59 pm (UTC)Why did you take this "limit"? You are so good at writing gen! :-)
Please, take this question from a nosy "unofficial cheerleader" as a praise. Sometimes I found you inserted the "graphic part" in your "non gen" fanfic as you had a second thought, and when I read your fic without reading those parts (and not wearing "slash glasses" :-) ) I find a friendship that is a "parent/child" bond where sometimes you're the parent and sometimes you're the child, a link between people (either of different gender or of the same gender) as deep as love is, but without sex...
no subject
Date: 2012-10-01 07:07 pm (UTC)And I think you are reading your own motivations into my writing, because most often, I have the "graphic part" written long before anything else.
Thank being said, thank you for reading and commenting.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-01 01:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-01 07:03 pm (UTC)Love your icon (and I love that scene, btw).
no subject
Date: 2012-10-01 05:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-01 07:02 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2012-10-01 09:01 pm (UTC)anyhoot-I also love how fluid the dynamic btw them can be. Theres def the power deferential, obviously. Peter is a good Boss, hes shown himself committed to being Neals (Friend) when he jetted off to cape verde after him. Shoot, I can go so far and say FAMILY-the kind you chose, not the kind u inherit..lol. Who else would do all those things you mentioned in your story. But Peter is also Neals big brother, mentor, confidante and (MORE? ....) I certainly like to think so. XD. But even on the surface---its so complex! As I was rewatching 4:09 an 4:10 I kept noticing the facial expressions that TD uses when interacting with Neal. Its SO freaking FOND*** even indulgent and this is when their arguing (lovers-quarrel-cough!) so yeah, I love reading fics and getting other viewers interpretation of their relationship cause its SO nuanced. The chemistry-whatever you wanna call it is very obvious and I think thats what keeps us glued @@ well, and the Pretty! The shiny Neal pretty. LOL.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-02 12:37 pm (UTC)And yeah - the looks between them. They almost X-rated eye-fucking this season. Just blows me away.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-01 09:38 pm (UTC)Yes, indeed, that friendship is worth almost every sacrifice.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-02 12:34 pm (UTC)So glad you liked it!
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2012-10-03 05:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-03 12:24 pm (UTC)Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-07 12:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-07 12:33 am (UTC)