![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elrhiarhodanTitle: Return and Rebuild the Desolate Places – Chapter Thirteen
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke, Mozzie, Reese Hughes, Clinton Jones, Diana Berrigan, Olivia Benson (L&O: SVU), Section Chief Bruce (McKinsey) Original Characters
Spoilers: White Collar, all of Season 5; no specific spoilers for L&O: SVU, but set in Season 15
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Kidnapping, torture (off-camera), rape (off-camera),
Word Count: This chapter – ~2,800
Beta Credit:coffeethyme4me, miri_thompson, sinfulslasher, theatregirl7299
Story Summary: Six months after Neal disappears, Peter still has no answers and his decision not to go to Washington has had significant repercussions for both his career and his marriage.
Chapter Summary: Peter and Elizabeth talk. Peter and Neal talk.
__________________
Previous Chapters: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve
A/N: Title from Alan Hovhaness’ wind concerto, which takes it from the Old Testament. New chapters will be posted to my LJ every Thursday and to the relevant communities on Fridays.
Art bykanarek13
Sometime in Late January – Late Monday Night – Early Tuesday Morning
Peter rolled over, reaching for Elizabeth, only to find a cold pillow. Of course she wasn’t there. She was in Alexandria, living her own life. She’d called at some point on Monday afternoon, probably to let him know she was home. El hadn’t left a message and that, in and of itself, was message enough.
He opened his eyes and looked at the alarm clock – it was 12:36 AM. He’d been asleep for little more than an hour. This was par for the course, he’d nod off for a little while and spend the next four hours tossing and turning, lost in his anger and desperate desire to talk to the one person who he needed most in the world, but wasn’t there.
Like every night, his psyche offered him some excellent advice. Don’t be so fucking stubborn. Call her.
For the better part of six months, he’d ignored the rational, adult part of his brain, when all he needed to do was send his wife a text, You awake? Call me. The small, wounded child, the one who thought that El should have just known that he was in pain, that he wasn’t all right, won the battle and the war.
But not tonight. Tonight he wasn’t going to let that child win. He pulled his cellphone from the charger and went over to the window. Of course it was snowing again.
Peter didn’t bother with a text message first, it wasn’t that late. The phone rang twice before El answered.
“Peter?” There was a touch of panic in her voice.
“Hey, hon.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine.” No, it wasn’t – but that was for later in the conversation. “I just wanted to hear your voice. I couldn’t sleep.”
The silence at the other end of the line was telling and Peter wondered if this phone call was a mistake. “Hon?”
“I’m still here.” Her voice lacked something.
“Did I wake you?”
“No – I was just getting ready for bed.”
Peter took a deep breath. He had to do something to fix this, he had to try. “I’m sorry.”
Again, just silence.
He plowed on. “I’m sorry for everything. For what I said to you the other night, for what I didn’t say. For everything.” His heart was in his throat.
“I understand, Peter. I do.”
He had to state the obvious. “But you’re not forgiving me.”
She sighed, “It’s not that easy, Peter. Our problems didn’t start on Sunday, and they won’t end when I accept your apology or you accept mine.”
“When did our problems start?” Peter thought he knew the answer, but was still afraid to hear El say it.
“When I encouraged you to take Neal’s offer all those years ago. When our lives began to revolve around another person. When Neal Caffrey’s well-being became the most important thing in our daily lives.”
“El – that’s not true. You mean everything to me. I love you.”
“I know you do, Peter. I am not questioning that. It’s just … at some point, ‘we’ became ‘three’ and I’m not sure I can live with that anymore.”
“What do you want me to do?” He needed to hear her say it.
“What do you want me to tell you, Peter? To walk away? To let Neal fend for himself?” El laughed, a sad and bitter sound. “The time for that has long passed. You tried ripping off the bandage, it didn’t work.”
“He needs me, El – I just can’t abandon him.” To his own ears, his voice sounded thick, tear-clogged – but there were no tears.
“I know, and I can’t ask you to do that. I just wish …” Her words trailed off.
“What, El? What can I do?”
“No, it’s not ‘what can you do’. It’s maybe what you should have done.”
Peter waited for El to tell him, to speak her mind.
“Maybe you should have left him in Cape Verde. You told him to run; you should have just let it end there. They only found Neal because – ”
“Because I was stupid enough to keep the fucking map in my closet. You don’t think I haven’t thought of that, El?” Peter was whispering because if he didn’t, he might just start screaming. “I should have let him go, but I couldn’t.”
Her reply was quiet and resigned, but there was no blame there. “No, you couldn’t, could you?”
Peter ached with regret, for all the mistakes he’d made, for how he ended up here, alone and estranged from the woman he loved more than life. “No, I couldn’t.”
“Then there’s nothing more to say, is there?”
Yes, there was. “I nearly quit today.”
If El’s earlier silence was painful, her lack of response now was like a knife wound. Finally, she said, “But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Because Neal still needs you.”
He could have made a dozen different excuses, how he wasn’t a quitter, how he loved his work, how, despite all the bullshit, he still took pride in being an FBI agent, but he couldn’t. “Yes. The Bureau won’t let go of him and the Justice Department is making noise about having him serve the rest of his sentence in a prison hospital because it wouldn’t look good for the administration to be ‘soft on crime.’ I can’t let them do that.” Peter still hadn’t told El about the desperate message that Neal had sent, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her how Neal blamed him for what had happened. Why he couldn’t bring himself to go to see the man he’d always considered his best friend.
“And that’s the story of our lives, Peter. Neal needs you, you protect him. You sacrifice everything for him.”
He couldn’t deny that, but it wasn’t the whole truth. “Not everything, not you, El – I would never sacrifice you.”
“But you already have, hon.”
“El – ”
Something in her tone softened, becoming more the woman he loved than the bitter stranger who left yesterday with so much pain. “Peter, I know that you love me and that you always will. I love you and I’ll never love anyone else. But we can’t go on like this. And asking you to abandon Neal is something I could never do. You’d come to hate me, hate yourself and everything that we’d built together would collapse under the weight of that hatred.” El paused, giving Peter a chance to absorb what she was saying. “You need to do what’s right – it’s like it’s in your DNA, and that’s why I’d never ask you to make that choice.”
The tears were falling and Peter made no effort to stop them. “Where does this leave us, El?”
And like that, the emotionally wise woman he married, the one who’d been absent for so long, was back. “It leaves us in a better place. No more half-truths about how you’re ‘all right’, no more pretending that your heart hasn’t been ripped out by what’s happened. You talk to me, hon. You call me and you tell me what’s happening. You don’t compartmentalize your feelings. I’m your wife, damn it, and let me be that.”
“I’m sorry, El - for everything.”
“I am, too. I’m sorry for not being there for you, for not believing you. For every horrible moment you’ve gone through alone. And I’m sorry for what’s happened to Neal and what’s going to happen to him.”
“But you’re not coming back home, are you?”
There was another telling pause. “No, not now. And it’s not because of my job. If I thought coming back to New York was the answer, I’d resign immediately, because nothing is more important than you and me. But ‘you and me’ can’t be fixed by simple proximity.”
That was a hard truth. “Do you think we can be fixed?” Peter knew he sounded needy and he didn’t care.
“I love you too damn much to give up on you. But I can’t expect you to work on ‘us’ when you’ve got so much else to do. Neal needs you, right now he needs you more than I do. Concentrate on that. Go see him, Peter - he needs you so desperately. Talk to him, be his friend. That’s what you both need.”
“I love you, El.” And despite all the promises they'd just made to each other, Peter couldn't bring himself to say, But I can’t see him, it’ll only make everything worse.
“And I love you, Peter. Now, get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
Peter’s lips twitched up in a slight smile at her command and he ended the call.
He got back into bed, but he couldn’t fall asleep. As the minutes ticked into hours, Peter could hear everything that El didn’t say – every undercurrent and double meaning. He knew that he had heard what she wanted him to hear, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, she loved him - always, just as he loved her. And neither of them was giving up. But the sad, horrible truth was that Neal, as competent and capable and independent as any person he’d ever met, would never stop needing him. And he’d never stop helping him.
So where did that leave them?
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Elizabeth stared at her cellphone screen until it went dark. She’d done her best to force a note of hope into her words, but she couldn’t convince herself. Her life with Peter was irrevocably changed. Maybe if she hadn’t left New York, maybe if she’d been there to help Peter deal with Neal’s absence every day, it wouldn’t have come to this. And the truth of the matter was, Neal would always need Peter. It was never going to end.
Until this moment, she had never regretted urging Peter to accept Neal’s offer to catch the Dutchman. Not through the drama with Fowler, or with Peter’s kidnapping - hell, her own kidnapping. Not even when Peter spent six weeks in jail on a murder charge because he was trying to help Neal’s father. Until now, she never regretted Neal’s presence in their lives, for the simple reason that Neal had made her husband a better man.
Peter, before Neal, was a good man. One who loved her unconditionally, but also a man who saw the world in simple shades of black and white. Right was right and wrong meant prison. Neal changed that – he’d taught Peter that all the shades of gray mattered, too – and in doing so, he unleashed something wonderful in her husband. Dedication became tempered by compassion, fierce intelligence by emotional understanding. Peter was all that he’d ever been, and so very much more. She loved the better man that Peter had become, infinitely more than the wonderful man he had been.
And now she’d lost that better man, and it was her own damn fault.
El put the cellphone onto the nightstand and climbed into her lonely bed. The one she’d made for herself. She couldn’t go back, but she didn’t know how she was going to be able to go forward.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Neal tossed and turned, hot and restless and in pain. Earlier, he’d asked the nurse to hold off on the nighttime dosage of Percocet. He hated the dreams the drug brought, they were so strange and vivid and violent. Not true memories of what had happened to him when he’d been held captive, but echoes, distorted and more disturbing that the actual memories. His tormenters didn’t wear masks, but somehow bore the faces of the people he’d loved: Mozzie, and June, Kate and Sara, even Rebecca before her own evil was revealed; they all took turns hurting him.
He might even have been able to tolerate those dreams, his body needed rest and some surcease from the physical pain, but when his tormentors became Peter, the anxiety was unbearable. The worst nightmares were when the man who had checked the plates became Peter – he’d find the clues he’d hidden, the tiny marks that spelled out “help me peter” in Latin and laugh and laugh and tell him that he’d given up on him, that he was nothing more than a criminal who was getting everything he’d deserved.
So he lied through his teeth and told the nurse he didn’t need anything more than a single Advil to manage the pain. She was skeptical, but short of shoving the other medication down his throat, there was nothing she could do.
Neal managed to roll over and got a look at the monitor that tracked his vitals. The time on the display read 2:20 AM. So he must have dozed off at some point. He shifted uncomfortably against the mattress. It was designed to prevent bedsores, inflating and then deflating, but it didn’t work properly. There was a big, sagging gap in the middle and unless he wanted to plaster himself against the bed rails, he’d have to let his body sag with it.
“You okay?”
The question startled Neal. He didn’t realize that there was anyone else in the room. He reached for the light switch, but couldn’t find it.
“Neal, are you okay?”
That voice – he knew that voice. “Peter – you’re here!”
“Yes, I am.”
Neal strained his eyes into the darkness – why were there so many shadows? He didn’t remember his room being so dark. “I’m sorry – I can’t see you.” He held out his hand, hoping that Peter would come closer, would take it. Would touch him. But he didn’t, he kept his distance.
“It’s okay, I can see you fine.”
This conversation seemed weird, Peter seemed weird. But he was here, at last and that was all that mattered. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I’ve been very worried about you.”
“I’m safe now.”
“Yes, you are. I’m sorry I didn’t find you – I looked for you everywhere.”
Peter sounded so sad. “It’s okay – you weren’t meant to. They were good, they left no trace.”
“But you did, you begged for my help, Neal. You left clues and I didn’t see them until it was too late.”
“But it’s not too late, Peter. I’m here and I’m safe and you’re okay.” Neal was babbling but he didn’t care.
The monitors beeped with comforting regularity; from just outside the door, Neal could hear the squeak of someone’s rubber soled shoes and the rattle of a cart against the linoleum floor. Peter, though, was too quiet.
“I’m not so sure you’re safe, Neal.”
He swallowed, his heart started to race. “What do you mean? There’s a Marshal on the door, they won’t let anything happen to me.”
“That’s what I mean.”
It took Neal a moment to parse out Peter’s cryptic reply. “Oh. Oh – you think they are going to try to put me back in prison?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m trying to keep that from happening, you have to believe me.”
Neal felt the edges of his lips curve into a smile, it was an unfamiliar sensation. “Of course I believe you. You protect me, it’s what you do best.” He wished he could see Peter’s face, see him smile.
“I should go now, let you rest.”
“It’s okay. All I’ve done is rest.” And waited for you to visit me.
“You need to heal. You need to get stronger.”
Typical Peter. “I’m working on it.” Neal reached out again, desperate for that familiar touch. But Peter still didn’t come any closer. He closed his eyes and sighed as his hand fell back to the bed. “Okay, I’ll get some rest, but will you stay with me for a little while longer? I’ve missed you.”
Peter didn’t answer. Neal shifted against the mattress, trying to sit up. There was something poking at his backside. He reached for it, it was the call button and he accidentally pressed it while trying to pull it free.
A few moments later, light flooded the room as the door opened, “Mr. Caffrey, what do you need?”
He shielded his eyes from the too-bright light but looked around, desperate to see Peter. But Peter wasn’t there.
“I – I – was talking with someone – did you see who just left?”
“No, Mr. Caffrey – no one’s come into or left your room. There’s been no one on the floor who’s not supposed to be here.”
“No – Peter was here, I was talking with him.”
The door closed, plunging the room back into darkness. When it opened again, the nurse wasn’t alone, a blue-jacketed U.S. Marshal was with her. The man answered before Neal could even ask. “No one has come or gone, Mr. Caffrey. I’ve been standing guard on your door since midnight. You’ve been talking in your sleep, though – maybe it was a dream?”
Neal collapsed against the bed, lost and hurting. Peter hadn’t come. He’d never come.
TO BE CONTINUED
Go to Chapter Fourteen
Author:
elrhiarhodan Fandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke, Mozzie, Reese Hughes, Clinton Jones, Diana Berrigan, Olivia Benson (L&O: SVU), Section Chief Bruce (McKinsey) Original Characters
Spoilers: White Collar, all of Season 5; no specific spoilers for L&O: SVU, but set in Season 15
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Kidnapping, torture (off-camera), rape (off-camera),
Word Count: This chapter – ~2,800
Beta Credit:
coffeethyme4me, miri_thompson, sinfulslasher, theatregirl7299 Story Summary: Six months after Neal disappears, Peter still has no answers and his decision not to go to Washington has had significant repercussions for both his career and his marriage.
Chapter Summary: Peter and Elizabeth talk. Peter and Neal talk.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve
A/N: Title from Alan Hovhaness’ wind concerto, which takes it from the Old Testament. New chapters will be posted to my LJ every Thursday and to the relevant communities on Fridays.
Art by
kanarek13Sometime in Late January – Late Monday Night – Early Tuesday Morning
Peter rolled over, reaching for Elizabeth, only to find a cold pillow. Of course she wasn’t there. She was in Alexandria, living her own life. She’d called at some point on Monday afternoon, probably to let him know she was home. El hadn’t left a message and that, in and of itself, was message enough.
He opened his eyes and looked at the alarm clock – it was 12:36 AM. He’d been asleep for little more than an hour. This was par for the course, he’d nod off for a little while and spend the next four hours tossing and turning, lost in his anger and desperate desire to talk to the one person who he needed most in the world, but wasn’t there.
Like every night, his psyche offered him some excellent advice. Don’t be so fucking stubborn. Call her.
For the better part of six months, he’d ignored the rational, adult part of his brain, when all he needed to do was send his wife a text, You awake? Call me. The small, wounded child, the one who thought that El should have just known that he was in pain, that he wasn’t all right, won the battle and the war.
But not tonight. Tonight he wasn’t going to let that child win. He pulled his cellphone from the charger and went over to the window. Of course it was snowing again.
Peter didn’t bother with a text message first, it wasn’t that late. The phone rang twice before El answered.
“Peter?” There was a touch of panic in her voice.
“Hey, hon.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine.” No, it wasn’t – but that was for later in the conversation. “I just wanted to hear your voice. I couldn’t sleep.”
The silence at the other end of the line was telling and Peter wondered if this phone call was a mistake. “Hon?”
“I’m still here.” Her voice lacked something.
“Did I wake you?”
“No – I was just getting ready for bed.”
Peter took a deep breath. He had to do something to fix this, he had to try. “I’m sorry.”
Again, just silence.
He plowed on. “I’m sorry for everything. For what I said to you the other night, for what I didn’t say. For everything.” His heart was in his throat.
“I understand, Peter. I do.”
He had to state the obvious. “But you’re not forgiving me.”
She sighed, “It’s not that easy, Peter. Our problems didn’t start on Sunday, and they won’t end when I accept your apology or you accept mine.”
“When did our problems start?” Peter thought he knew the answer, but was still afraid to hear El say it.
“When I encouraged you to take Neal’s offer all those years ago. When our lives began to revolve around another person. When Neal Caffrey’s well-being became the most important thing in our daily lives.”
“El – that’s not true. You mean everything to me. I love you.”
“I know you do, Peter. I am not questioning that. It’s just … at some point, ‘we’ became ‘three’ and I’m not sure I can live with that anymore.”
“What do you want me to do?” He needed to hear her say it.
“What do you want me to tell you, Peter? To walk away? To let Neal fend for himself?” El laughed, a sad and bitter sound. “The time for that has long passed. You tried ripping off the bandage, it didn’t work.”
“He needs me, El – I just can’t abandon him.” To his own ears, his voice sounded thick, tear-clogged – but there were no tears.
“I know, and I can’t ask you to do that. I just wish …” Her words trailed off.
“What, El? What can I do?”
“No, it’s not ‘what can you do’. It’s maybe what you should have done.”
Peter waited for El to tell him, to speak her mind.
“Maybe you should have left him in Cape Verde. You told him to run; you should have just let it end there. They only found Neal because – ”
“Because I was stupid enough to keep the fucking map in my closet. You don’t think I haven’t thought of that, El?” Peter was whispering because if he didn’t, he might just start screaming. “I should have let him go, but I couldn’t.”
Her reply was quiet and resigned, but there was no blame there. “No, you couldn’t, could you?”
Peter ached with regret, for all the mistakes he’d made, for how he ended up here, alone and estranged from the woman he loved more than life. “No, I couldn’t.”
“Then there’s nothing more to say, is there?”
Yes, there was. “I nearly quit today.”
If El’s earlier silence was painful, her lack of response now was like a knife wound. Finally, she said, “But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Because Neal still needs you.”
He could have made a dozen different excuses, how he wasn’t a quitter, how he loved his work, how, despite all the bullshit, he still took pride in being an FBI agent, but he couldn’t. “Yes. The Bureau won’t let go of him and the Justice Department is making noise about having him serve the rest of his sentence in a prison hospital because it wouldn’t look good for the administration to be ‘soft on crime.’ I can’t let them do that.” Peter still hadn’t told El about the desperate message that Neal had sent, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her how Neal blamed him for what had happened. Why he couldn’t bring himself to go to see the man he’d always considered his best friend.
“And that’s the story of our lives, Peter. Neal needs you, you protect him. You sacrifice everything for him.”
He couldn’t deny that, but it wasn’t the whole truth. “Not everything, not you, El – I would never sacrifice you.”
“But you already have, hon.”
“El – ”
Something in her tone softened, becoming more the woman he loved than the bitter stranger who left yesterday with so much pain. “Peter, I know that you love me and that you always will. I love you and I’ll never love anyone else. But we can’t go on like this. And asking you to abandon Neal is something I could never do. You’d come to hate me, hate yourself and everything that we’d built together would collapse under the weight of that hatred.” El paused, giving Peter a chance to absorb what she was saying. “You need to do what’s right – it’s like it’s in your DNA, and that’s why I’d never ask you to make that choice.”
The tears were falling and Peter made no effort to stop them. “Where does this leave us, El?”
And like that, the emotionally wise woman he married, the one who’d been absent for so long, was back. “It leaves us in a better place. No more half-truths about how you’re ‘all right’, no more pretending that your heart hasn’t been ripped out by what’s happened. You talk to me, hon. You call me and you tell me what’s happening. You don’t compartmentalize your feelings. I’m your wife, damn it, and let me be that.”
“I’m sorry, El - for everything.”
“I am, too. I’m sorry for not being there for you, for not believing you. For every horrible moment you’ve gone through alone. And I’m sorry for what’s happened to Neal and what’s going to happen to him.”
“But you’re not coming back home, are you?”
There was another telling pause. “No, not now. And it’s not because of my job. If I thought coming back to New York was the answer, I’d resign immediately, because nothing is more important than you and me. But ‘you and me’ can’t be fixed by simple proximity.”
That was a hard truth. “Do you think we can be fixed?” Peter knew he sounded needy and he didn’t care.
“I love you too damn much to give up on you. But I can’t expect you to work on ‘us’ when you’ve got so much else to do. Neal needs you, right now he needs you more than I do. Concentrate on that. Go see him, Peter - he needs you so desperately. Talk to him, be his friend. That’s what you both need.”
“I love you, El.” And despite all the promises they'd just made to each other, Peter couldn't bring himself to say, But I can’t see him, it’ll only make everything worse.
“And I love you, Peter. Now, get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
Peter’s lips twitched up in a slight smile at her command and he ended the call.
He got back into bed, but he couldn’t fall asleep. As the minutes ticked into hours, Peter could hear everything that El didn’t say – every undercurrent and double meaning. He knew that he had heard what she wanted him to hear, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, she loved him - always, just as he loved her. And neither of them was giving up. But the sad, horrible truth was that Neal, as competent and capable and independent as any person he’d ever met, would never stop needing him. And he’d never stop helping him.
So where did that leave them?
Elizabeth stared at her cellphone screen until it went dark. She’d done her best to force a note of hope into her words, but she couldn’t convince herself. Her life with Peter was irrevocably changed. Maybe if she hadn’t left New York, maybe if she’d been there to help Peter deal with Neal’s absence every day, it wouldn’t have come to this. And the truth of the matter was, Neal would always need Peter. It was never going to end.
Until this moment, she had never regretted urging Peter to accept Neal’s offer to catch the Dutchman. Not through the drama with Fowler, or with Peter’s kidnapping - hell, her own kidnapping. Not even when Peter spent six weeks in jail on a murder charge because he was trying to help Neal’s father. Until now, she never regretted Neal’s presence in their lives, for the simple reason that Neal had made her husband a better man.
Peter, before Neal, was a good man. One who loved her unconditionally, but also a man who saw the world in simple shades of black and white. Right was right and wrong meant prison. Neal changed that – he’d taught Peter that all the shades of gray mattered, too – and in doing so, he unleashed something wonderful in her husband. Dedication became tempered by compassion, fierce intelligence by emotional understanding. Peter was all that he’d ever been, and so very much more. She loved the better man that Peter had become, infinitely more than the wonderful man he had been.
And now she’d lost that better man, and it was her own damn fault.
El put the cellphone onto the nightstand and climbed into her lonely bed. The one she’d made for herself. She couldn’t go back, but she didn’t know how she was going to be able to go forward.
Neal tossed and turned, hot and restless and in pain. Earlier, he’d asked the nurse to hold off on the nighttime dosage of Percocet. He hated the dreams the drug brought, they were so strange and vivid and violent. Not true memories of what had happened to him when he’d been held captive, but echoes, distorted and more disturbing that the actual memories. His tormenters didn’t wear masks, but somehow bore the faces of the people he’d loved: Mozzie, and June, Kate and Sara, even Rebecca before her own evil was revealed; they all took turns hurting him.
He might even have been able to tolerate those dreams, his body needed rest and some surcease from the physical pain, but when his tormentors became Peter, the anxiety was unbearable. The worst nightmares were when the man who had checked the plates became Peter – he’d find the clues he’d hidden, the tiny marks that spelled out “help me peter” in Latin and laugh and laugh and tell him that he’d given up on him, that he was nothing more than a criminal who was getting everything he’d deserved.
So he lied through his teeth and told the nurse he didn’t need anything more than a single Advil to manage the pain. She was skeptical, but short of shoving the other medication down his throat, there was nothing she could do.
Neal managed to roll over and got a look at the monitor that tracked his vitals. The time on the display read 2:20 AM. So he must have dozed off at some point. He shifted uncomfortably against the mattress. It was designed to prevent bedsores, inflating and then deflating, but it didn’t work properly. There was a big, sagging gap in the middle and unless he wanted to plaster himself against the bed rails, he’d have to let his body sag with it.
“You okay?”
The question startled Neal. He didn’t realize that there was anyone else in the room. He reached for the light switch, but couldn’t find it.
“Neal, are you okay?”
That voice – he knew that voice. “Peter – you’re here!”
“Yes, I am.”
Neal strained his eyes into the darkness – why were there so many shadows? He didn’t remember his room being so dark. “I’m sorry – I can’t see you.” He held out his hand, hoping that Peter would come closer, would take it. Would touch him. But he didn’t, he kept his distance.
“It’s okay, I can see you fine.”
This conversation seemed weird, Peter seemed weird. But he was here, at last and that was all that mattered. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I’ve been very worried about you.”
“I’m safe now.”
“Yes, you are. I’m sorry I didn’t find you – I looked for you everywhere.”
Peter sounded so sad. “It’s okay – you weren’t meant to. They were good, they left no trace.”
“But you did, you begged for my help, Neal. You left clues and I didn’t see them until it was too late.”
“But it’s not too late, Peter. I’m here and I’m safe and you’re okay.” Neal was babbling but he didn’t care.
The monitors beeped with comforting regularity; from just outside the door, Neal could hear the squeak of someone’s rubber soled shoes and the rattle of a cart against the linoleum floor. Peter, though, was too quiet.
“I’m not so sure you’re safe, Neal.”
He swallowed, his heart started to race. “What do you mean? There’s a Marshal on the door, they won’t let anything happen to me.”
“That’s what I mean.”
It took Neal a moment to parse out Peter’s cryptic reply. “Oh. Oh – you think they are going to try to put me back in prison?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m trying to keep that from happening, you have to believe me.”
Neal felt the edges of his lips curve into a smile, it was an unfamiliar sensation. “Of course I believe you. You protect me, it’s what you do best.” He wished he could see Peter’s face, see him smile.
“I should go now, let you rest.”
“It’s okay. All I’ve done is rest.” And waited for you to visit me.
“You need to heal. You need to get stronger.”
Typical Peter. “I’m working on it.” Neal reached out again, desperate for that familiar touch. But Peter still didn’t come any closer. He closed his eyes and sighed as his hand fell back to the bed. “Okay, I’ll get some rest, but will you stay with me for a little while longer? I’ve missed you.”
Peter didn’t answer. Neal shifted against the mattress, trying to sit up. There was something poking at his backside. He reached for it, it was the call button and he accidentally pressed it while trying to pull it free.
A few moments later, light flooded the room as the door opened, “Mr. Caffrey, what do you need?”
He shielded his eyes from the too-bright light but looked around, desperate to see Peter. But Peter wasn’t there.
“I – I – was talking with someone – did you see who just left?”
“No, Mr. Caffrey – no one’s come into or left your room. There’s been no one on the floor who’s not supposed to be here.”
“No – Peter was here, I was talking with him.”
The door closed, plunging the room back into darkness. When it opened again, the nurse wasn’t alone, a blue-jacketed U.S. Marshal was with her. The man answered before Neal could even ask. “No one has come or gone, Mr. Caffrey. I’ve been standing guard on your door since midnight. You’ve been talking in your sleep, though – maybe it was a dream?”
Neal collapsed against the bed, lost and hurting. Peter hadn’t come. He’d never come.
Go to Chapter Fourteen
Tags:
- character: clinton jones,
- character: diana berrigan,
- character: elizabeth burke,
- character: june ellington,
- character: mozzie,
- character: neal caffrey,
- character: ofc,
- character: olivia benson,
- character: omc,
- character: peter burke,
- character: theo berrigan,
- crossover: law and order: svu,
- genre: abuse,
- genre: angst,
- genre: emotional trauma,
- genre: friendship,
- genre: future fic,
- genre: hurt/comfort,
- genre: violence,
- pairing: peter/elizabeth,
- type: fan fiction,
- type: longfic,
- wc verse: return and rebuild,
- white collar,
- year: 2014
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
extraordinary
Date: 2014-06-30 02:29 am (UTC)and the scene of neal talking to imaginary peter was extraordinary
keep up the good work :)
no subject
Date: 2014-06-27 08:13 pm (UTC)It was painful beyond comprehension to read to Peter and El's conversation and their thoughts afterward and before. Your story, despite pulling our favorite couple apart is still managing to be so true to who they are in canon. It pains me to think that S6 canon will take a road similar to this, with El in DC. In some ways I want it to because of the realism your story conveys, but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
And, my heart is breaking for Neal, who only wants to be reassured by Peter. And, for Peter who is so wrapped up in his own guilt that he can't see what Neal needs.
My poor fuzzy heart is still broken in a million pieces.
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:27 pm (UTC)Thank you - thank you so much for seeing the realism here - that Peter and El are two flawed human beings who have hurt themselves and each other and that there's no magical television fix for them.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-27 08:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-27 08:32 pm (UTC)The second half of your story is a bit disturbing... As always, I'm waiting for next Thursday.
I love your story
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-27 08:38 pm (UTC)And of course... we still get no true Peter & Neal conversation. I could tell it was a dream, because it just didn't sound like Peter, no matter how bad a state he's in right now. Poor Neal! On top of everything, he can't even get a good night sleep without nightmares and now this. Peter really needs to come see him. It'll do both of them good.
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:32 pm (UTC)And yes, El is right - she's accepted Neal in their lives because he's made Peter a better man, but there does come a point...
no subject
Date: 2014-06-27 08:53 pm (UTC)“But you already have, hon.”
Oh my goodness, they have to move into a better space soon or I'll implode.
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:33 pm (UTC)Admit it, though - you're loving the angst.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-27 09:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:34 pm (UTC)I can't say that the worst is behind you, the reader, but I do know, as a writer, that the worst is behind ME.
(I'm evil, I know, I know).
no subject
Date: 2014-06-27 10:06 pm (UTC)And then Neal dreaming that Peter was there and then having to face the reality that he wasn't almost broke my heart.
This story is killing me. I love it so much.
Thank you for another amazing chapter.
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:35 pm (UTC)And yes, poor, poor Neal - the nightmares never end, do they?
no subject
Date: 2014-06-27 11:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:36 pm (UTC)Yes, never, ever doubt their love. It's just that sometimes, situations become untenable and things have to change.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-28 12:24 am (UTC)When I think it can't be anymore painful. Poor Peter and El *hugs them* And poor Neal *pets him gently*
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-28 12:37 am (UTC)As for Neal and Peter--ohmygosh! Fix this!
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:47 pm (UTC)Peter and El might not be able to fix this, but they do love each other and nothing's going to ever change that.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-28 03:53 pm (UTC)It's scary just how realistic the discussion between Peter and El is. It was also incredibly painful to read, but at the same time, it seemed like a first step in the right direction. (I think. I hope.)
And Neal...oh Neal. Poor baby.
*smishes everyone*
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:49 pm (UTC)I was striving for realism with that scene between Peter and El - they needed to talk, but forgiveness isn't so easy.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-28 04:25 pm (UTC)Again this convo between El and Peter coud totally be canon.
My little heart is broken right now.
Hugs
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-28 05:38 pm (UTC)Just when I thought we hit rock bottom, chapter 13 brings more anguish.
I hurt for all our characters.
Amazing fic!
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:51 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for coming on this journey.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-29 06:50 am (UTC)The saddest part is, it all makes sense. This could actually happen in some alternate universe, and these people could unintentionally hurt each other this much. I'm heartbroken.
*hides*
no subject
Date: 2014-07-03 02:55 pm (UTC)Thank you - I was really striving for realism between Peter and Elizabeth. The situation is untenable for both of them.
angst goes on
Date: 2014-06-29 08:13 pm (UTC)And I really wish all those stupid bureaucrats who wants to send Neal to prison, regardless if it's justice or not just so they don't look 'soft' not only to fail in that, but somehow to be 'told off', somehow to be forced to see that they can't get way with abusing their power just to 'look good'.
Re: angst goes on
Date: 2014-07-03 02:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-17 02:18 pm (UTC)Again, amazing, beautiful work. Thank you for giving us this.