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elrhiarhodanTitle: Return and Rebuild the Desolate Places – Chapter Twenty-Three
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. No spoilers for Season 6, A/U from S5 finale forward.
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Kidnapping, torture (off-camera), rape (off-camera),
Word Count: This chapter – ~2800
Beta Credit:sinfulslasher
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: Healing continues, now between Neal and Elizabeth,
__________________
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 | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two |
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 – Early Friday Morning
Her boss wasn’t happy with her. She’d been very understanding when El had told her that she needs to take off on Monday for a “family emergency” but she wasn’t quite so understanding when she’d said she needed to go back to New York on Friday, too.
Even though her boss signed off on the day’s leave, Elizabeth could hear the doubts start to creep into the woman’s voice when she’d agreed to her request– doubts about hiring someone who was trying to make a two-city marriage work, doubts about Elizabeth’s commitment to her job. She’s passed her ninety-day probationary period with flying colors, but that didn’t mean she had lifetime employment. Her job at the National Gallery gave her a unique outlet for her skills and interests, but it wasn’t one that couldn’t be filled by any one of the sharp, smart men and women who worked in her office. They were like wolves, waiting to pounce at the least sign of weakness.
Two weeks ago, she might have worried about them. But the terrible argument she’d had with Peter – the pain and the desolation and the unspoken accusations – made her reassess her priorities. It had taken her a week to come to terms with what Peter had said to her. At first, she’d told herself that Peter’s anger was unreasonable. If he needed her, he should have said something. Then Peter’s midnight call came and the attempt to heal the festering breach between them.
She’d told Peter that he needed to concentrate on Neal, to get him through this terrible ordeal. She’d tried to give him the strength he’d needed – but for what, she wasn’t sure. There was so much he hadn’t told her – the gap between the pain that poured out of him last weekend and the whole truth was like a black hole between them. Invisible to the naked eye, but there if you knew what to look for.
When she’d returned to D.C. on Monday, she tried to bury herself in her work, but she kept thinking how pointless it all was. Maybe it was time to reconsider her decision. If Neal hadn’t been kidnapped, this arrangement might have worked. But he had and his disappearance had torn at the fabric of her marriage.
El supposed if she tried to explain this to her parents, her sister or any of her friends, they’d think she was crazy. After all, Neal wasn’t family; he was just someone who forced his way into their lives. They’d tell her that she and Peter would be much better off without him.
But El knew that wasn’t true. Yes, Neal wasn’t without his issues and problems and he did introduce a certain amount of chaos – okay, a lot of chaos – into her life. But despite the chaos and drama and trauma, Neal was family. Not by blood, but in every other way. There was nothing that she’d ever asked of Neal that he hadn't moved heaven and earth for to accomplish.
They’d never really talked about what he’d done to save Peter, she’d never thanked Neal for the sacrifice he’d made, for all the crap he’d taken from Peter because she’d asked him to save her husband and his career.
Neal was family and she owed him her loyalty. And she’d done a piss-poor job of that.
Today, El splurged for the high-speed express to New York. The train pulled out of Union Station a little before six AM and she’d be in New York by a quarter to ten. The rocking motion of the train as it sped north was lulling her to sleep. She hadn’t gotten much rest last night. Her conversation with Peter had relieved her, but made her restless, too.
El dozed and the train coasted on. At some point between BWI and Trenton, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Thankfully, a conductor woke her just as the train pulled into Newark, giving her a chance to get her bearings before arriving in New York.
Even though she was anxious to see Peter, he wasn’t expecting her. El had said nothing about coming home on Friday – she’d thought to surprise him. She had planned on just going up to the FBI office directly from Penn Station. Even though Peter hadn’t given up field work as ASAC, he was more than likely to be at his desk.
But El decided to head up to the hospital first. She couldn’t stop thinking about Neal and how badly she’d let him down.
She owed him. A lot.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Neal was – for lack of a better word – terrified. The doctor overseeing his case had been in first thing this morning – even before his breakfast arrived. She had a big grin on her face when she’d told him that he was cleared for discharge. He smiled back because it seemed expected. She did caution him that the actual discharge process would take many hours and he shouldn’t expect to get out of this hell hole (her words) until well after two. In fact, she’d lay down good money that it would be closer to five before all of the paperwork was completed.
It was hard to explain how relieved he felt. At least he had a few more hours in this cocoon. He toyed with the cell phone Peter had left with him – the one that Moz had pushed on him was dead. He wondered who he should call. Probably June, if just to let her know that he’d been home.
Home. Now that was a word freighted with meaning. He’d given up on ever having a home again. And then he had to let out a bitter chuckle – for so long, he’d begrudged being tied to the same place, the same skyline, the same routine. He had wanted to be footloose and carefree – a man with no fixed address. Now, all he wanted was four walls, plenty of windows, and a door that only locked from the inside.
Which pretty much described his apartment at June’s, the only place he’d really ever thought of as home, despite the resentment.
But he couldn’t bring himself to call June. Or Peter. Or Mozzie. Any one of them would be delighted to take him home, to see him settled and comfortable. To get him anything he wanted, no matter how outrageous the demand (well, Peter would have his limitations, but Moz would delight in fetching the Mona Lisa for him if it would make him happy).
Neal toyed with the phone, half hoping that the battery would drain if he turned it on and off often enough. Except that it was relatively new and still had a three-quarters charge.
Call Peter.
Neal’s fingers hovered over the keypad and he’d even entered the area code and the first five digits of Peter’s FBI-issued cell phone. But he couldn’t bring himself to complete the call. And he couldn’t understand why.
“Neal?”
He looked up and, to his surprise, Elizabeth was standing in the door. She was bundled up in a winter coat and when she came into his room, she was dragging a small suitcase.
“Hey there.” Her smile was a little sad, a little tentative.
“Hey, yourself. I wasn’t expecting to see you.” Neal shifted himself forward and ignored the pain in his healing body as he reached out for her. To his delight, she came into his arms and he felt himself start to cry. She was someone he’d missed without even realizing it.
Elizabeth was crying, too. Her tears soaked through the thin hospital gown, but Neal didn’t let go. She clung to him, too. They were like two birds, tossed in a terrible storm, desperately seeking even the most meager shelter.
But like all storms, this one passed and the tears stopped. She shifted, her hands bumping up against the bandage on his side, and he hissed at the sharp pain.
Elizabeth stepped back. “Sorry.”
Neal wondered just how much that apology was supposed to encompass. “It’s okay. Really.”
“How are you doing?”
Neal tilted his head; it was less uncomfortable than shrugging. “Physically, a lot better.”
Elizabeth homed in on what he wasn’t saying. “And other than physically?”
“I’ve been better.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ve been through hell. If you said you were fine, I'd call you a liar.”
Neal had to laugh. Trust Elizabeth Burke to cut through the bullshit. “Yeah, hell is probably a good way to put it. How much did Peter tell you?”
He couldn’t help but notice how she stiffened when he mentioned her husband’s name. He reached for her hand. “Elizabeth?”
She licked her lips and grimaced. “He didn’t provide a lot of detail, but he told me enough to give me nightmares. I didn’t want to say anything when I was up last weekend - it was … difficult.”
“You didn’t really seem yourself the other day. What’s going on?” Neal knew that this was a strange thing to ask - at least under the circumstances. But it was easier to deal with someone else’s problems than his own. “You and Peter – what’s the matter with the two of you?”
Elizabeth sighed and didn’t answer.
“You don’t want to talk about it?”
She sighed again and, pulling her hand free, she drifted over to the window. “I don’t know.” She sounded so lost.
“Why not take off your coat and stay a while - they’ll be by with my very delicious lunch in a bit. I’ll be more than happy to share.”
That got a laugh out of her. “Hospital food? I should have brought you a cup of Amtrak coffee to go with it. Then we could really share the misery.” At least she did take off her coat and sat down next to him - in the chair that Peter had occupied for quite a while.
Elizabeth relaxed and the silence between them was comfortable. Earlier this morning, right after his doctor had brought the “good news,” the nurses had disconnected almost all the machinery he’d been hooked up to, everything except the intravenous infusion unit. He’d become so accustomed to the variety of beeps and pings that the lack of machine noise had been disconcerting. Now, the silence was gently punctuated by Elizabeth’s breathing, the ping of sleet hitting the window, and his own heartbeat.
And then Elizabeth broke the peace. “Peter and I need to work some problems out.” She sighed and admitted in a lower tone, almost a whisper, “They’re big ones – I don’t know if we can.”
Neal had to ask, “How much did my disappearance cause these problems?”
“Neal – ”
“Elizabeth – I need to know. I feel like it’s my fault.”
She inadvertently echoed her husband’s words to him yesterday. “You’re not the center of the universe, Neal Caffrey.” Her reply was sharp, but not enough to cut him.
“Really?” He tried for a little humor, but it fell flat. “El – ” He rarely, if ever used that diminutive – it was reserved for Peter (and occasionally Mozzie). But right now, he needed to make that connection to her. She seemed so … lost. And he felt responsible.
“Are you really up to playing marriage counselor, Neal?”
Neal kept pushing. “Why are you deflecting?”
Elizabeth leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. Neal wondered what she saw. He’d had so much time looking at it that he’d actually named the stains on each of the acoustic tiles.
“It’s complicated, Neal.”
“I’m a smart guy, maybe I can help. If you let me.”
Elizabeth didn’t respond right away, but Neal could sense that she was trying to find a way to tell him what was going on. And when she did speak, Neal was stunned by her words.
“I failed Peter.”
“No! That’s not possible. The two of you - ”
“Yeah, the two of us – we always seemed so flawless. The two halves of a perfect whole. We had our own language. And yeah, we fought – but we always worked through it. Peter could be an ass at times, and so could I – but the foundation was solid. Or so I thought.” Elizabeth let out a shaky breath. “I shouldn’t dump this on you.”
“If not me, then who? Have you talked with anyone?”
“No – I couldn’t. How could I admit to anyone that I failed Peter in so many ways?”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because I did. I went swanning about my business, enjoying my new life in D.C., and I was deliberately blind to how much my husband needed me.”
“El – no.” He wasn’t sure what he was denying.
“Your disappearance was killing him and I didn’t want to see that. When I told you last week that I thought you’d left and I was happy you had, what I didn’t tell you was that that fractured something between Peter and me. I broke us, Neal.”
Neal opened and closed his mouth, like a gasping fish, unable to breathe despite the air. “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.” That was the only thing he could say.
“Oh, sweetie – no, not at all. You aren’t to blame – you were kidnapped. How could you think this was your fault?”
“If I hadn’t been so good at being a criminal…”
“Neal, no – that’s just stupidity. You didn’t do this to yourself. You’re not responsible for what happened between me and Peter.”
Neal had to laugh. “You and Peter – you’re both very good at exonerating me from all the chaos I’ve brought into your lives. When Keller kidnapped you, Peter told me it wasn’t my fault. Every time that Peter lost his badge or when he landed in jail, I was told that no, it wasn’t my fault. Maybe if someone did blame me, I might have …” He shook his head and ran out of steam. “I don’t know – I might have behaved more like the man you guys thought I could be and less like the criminal I actually am.” This was a variation on what he’d said to Peter yesterday – and unlike Peter, Elizabeth didn’t pull her punches.
“If you want to blame yourself for getting kidnapped and forced to create those printing plates, if you want to be a martyr – fine. But not about this. This is my fault, Neal. Not yours.” The fury in Elizabeth’s voice left him singed.
“How can I help?”
“You can’t, Neal.” Elizabeth’s tone gentled and she took his hand, squeezing it lightly. “But – but thank you for wanting to help.”
They settled back into silence. Neal wondered if he should tell her that he was being sprung today. And decided not to.
Maybe if he didn’t say anything, it wouldn’t happen.
TO BE CONTINUED
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. No spoilers for Season 6, A/U from S5 finale forward.
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Kidnapping, torture (off-camera), rape (off-camera),
Word Count: This chapter – ~2800
Beta Credit:
sinfulslasher 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: Healing continues, now between Neal and Elizabeth,
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 | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two |
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 – Early Friday Morning
Her boss wasn’t happy with her. She’d been very understanding when El had told her that she needs to take off on Monday for a “family emergency” but she wasn’t quite so understanding when she’d said she needed to go back to New York on Friday, too.
Even though her boss signed off on the day’s leave, Elizabeth could hear the doubts start to creep into the woman’s voice when she’d agreed to her request– doubts about hiring someone who was trying to make a two-city marriage work, doubts about Elizabeth’s commitment to her job. She’s passed her ninety-day probationary period with flying colors, but that didn’t mean she had lifetime employment. Her job at the National Gallery gave her a unique outlet for her skills and interests, but it wasn’t one that couldn’t be filled by any one of the sharp, smart men and women who worked in her office. They were like wolves, waiting to pounce at the least sign of weakness.
Two weeks ago, she might have worried about them. But the terrible argument she’d had with Peter – the pain and the desolation and the unspoken accusations – made her reassess her priorities. It had taken her a week to come to terms with what Peter had said to her. At first, she’d told herself that Peter’s anger was unreasonable. If he needed her, he should have said something. Then Peter’s midnight call came and the attempt to heal the festering breach between them.
She’d told Peter that he needed to concentrate on Neal, to get him through this terrible ordeal. She’d tried to give him the strength he’d needed – but for what, she wasn’t sure. There was so much he hadn’t told her – the gap between the pain that poured out of him last weekend and the whole truth was like a black hole between them. Invisible to the naked eye, but there if you knew what to look for.
When she’d returned to D.C. on Monday, she tried to bury herself in her work, but she kept thinking how pointless it all was. Maybe it was time to reconsider her decision. If Neal hadn’t been kidnapped, this arrangement might have worked. But he had and his disappearance had torn at the fabric of her marriage.
El supposed if she tried to explain this to her parents, her sister or any of her friends, they’d think she was crazy. After all, Neal wasn’t family; he was just someone who forced his way into their lives. They’d tell her that she and Peter would be much better off without him.
But El knew that wasn’t true. Yes, Neal wasn’t without his issues and problems and he did introduce a certain amount of chaos – okay, a lot of chaos – into her life. But despite the chaos and drama and trauma, Neal was family. Not by blood, but in every other way. There was nothing that she’d ever asked of Neal that he hadn't moved heaven and earth for to accomplish.
They’d never really talked about what he’d done to save Peter, she’d never thanked Neal for the sacrifice he’d made, for all the crap he’d taken from Peter because she’d asked him to save her husband and his career.
Neal was family and she owed him her loyalty. And she’d done a piss-poor job of that.
Today, El splurged for the high-speed express to New York. The train pulled out of Union Station a little before six AM and she’d be in New York by a quarter to ten. The rocking motion of the train as it sped north was lulling her to sleep. She hadn’t gotten much rest last night. Her conversation with Peter had relieved her, but made her restless, too.
“I finally went to see Neal yesterday.”
Confused, El asked, “What do you mean, ‘finally’?” Then she remembered Neal asking her where Peter was, why he hadn’t been in to see him. She hadn't had an answer for him, but figured Peter had a good reason and would be there soon enough. When they’d talked at night and she’d asked how Neal was doing, Peter had given her very thorough progress reports, so she hadn’t even considered that he hadn’t been in to see him. The very idea seemed inconceivable.
Peter didn’t respond right away.
“Hon?”
“I couldn’t see him right away. Not until I got some things straightened out.”
El’s bullshit meter was hitting the red zone, but she decided not to say anything and disturb the fragile peace between them. “And how is Neal?”
“Doing better. The docs are saying he might even be ready for release in a day or two.”
“Good. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.”
“You sound exhausted.”
Peter laughed. “You have no idea.”
“I spoke to Mozzie. He told me that they got the bastards who kidnapped Neal.”
“Yeah.”
“That must be a relief.”
“A big one.”
“So, no threat that they’ll send Neal back to prison now.”
“No.”
El ground her teeth. Getting answers out of Peter was like pulling teeth. “Hon, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing, really. I’m just tired. It’s been a long few days. And I haven’t been sleeping well. Everything’s just sort of catching up with me.”
This time, El wasn’t so sure that Peter was bullshitting her. She could hear his exhaustion in every syllable. “I’m coming home this weekend.”
“Really?”
That one word contained so much joy, so much happiness, that El felt herself start to cry. “Yeah, hon. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Can’t wait to see you, too. I love you so much.”
El closed her eyes against the desperation in Peter’s voice. “I love you, too. More than anything.”
Confused, El asked, “What do you mean, ‘finally’?” Then she remembered Neal asking her where Peter was, why he hadn’t been in to see him. She hadn't had an answer for him, but figured Peter had a good reason and would be there soon enough. When they’d talked at night and she’d asked how Neal was doing, Peter had given her very thorough progress reports, so she hadn’t even considered that he hadn’t been in to see him. The very idea seemed inconceivable.
Peter didn’t respond right away.
“Hon?”
“I couldn’t see him right away. Not until I got some things straightened out.”
El’s bullshit meter was hitting the red zone, but she decided not to say anything and disturb the fragile peace between them. “And how is Neal?”
“Doing better. The docs are saying he might even be ready for release in a day or two.”
“Good. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.”
“You sound exhausted.”
Peter laughed. “You have no idea.”
“I spoke to Mozzie. He told me that they got the bastards who kidnapped Neal.”
“Yeah.”
“That must be a relief.”
“A big one.”
“So, no threat that they’ll send Neal back to prison now.”
“No.”
El ground her teeth. Getting answers out of Peter was like pulling teeth. “Hon, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing, really. I’m just tired. It’s been a long few days. And I haven’t been sleeping well. Everything’s just sort of catching up with me.”
This time, El wasn’t so sure that Peter was bullshitting her. She could hear his exhaustion in every syllable. “I’m coming home this weekend.”
“Really?”
That one word contained so much joy, so much happiness, that El felt herself start to cry. “Yeah, hon. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Can’t wait to see you, too. I love you so much.”
El closed her eyes against the desperation in Peter’s voice. “I love you, too. More than anything.”
El dozed and the train coasted on. At some point between BWI and Trenton, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Thankfully, a conductor woke her just as the train pulled into Newark, giving her a chance to get her bearings before arriving in New York.
Even though she was anxious to see Peter, he wasn’t expecting her. El had said nothing about coming home on Friday – she’d thought to surprise him. She had planned on just going up to the FBI office directly from Penn Station. Even though Peter hadn’t given up field work as ASAC, he was more than likely to be at his desk.
But El decided to head up to the hospital first. She couldn’t stop thinking about Neal and how badly she’d let him down.
She owed him. A lot.
Neal was – for lack of a better word – terrified. The doctor overseeing his case had been in first thing this morning – even before his breakfast arrived. She had a big grin on her face when she’d told him that he was cleared for discharge. He smiled back because it seemed expected. She did caution him that the actual discharge process would take many hours and he shouldn’t expect to get out of this hell hole (her words) until well after two. In fact, she’d lay down good money that it would be closer to five before all of the paperwork was completed.
It was hard to explain how relieved he felt. At least he had a few more hours in this cocoon. He toyed with the cell phone Peter had left with him – the one that Moz had pushed on him was dead. He wondered who he should call. Probably June, if just to let her know that he’d been home.
Home. Now that was a word freighted with meaning. He’d given up on ever having a home again. And then he had to let out a bitter chuckle – for so long, he’d begrudged being tied to the same place, the same skyline, the same routine. He had wanted to be footloose and carefree – a man with no fixed address. Now, all he wanted was four walls, plenty of windows, and a door that only locked from the inside.
Which pretty much described his apartment at June’s, the only place he’d really ever thought of as home, despite the resentment.
But he couldn’t bring himself to call June. Or Peter. Or Mozzie. Any one of them would be delighted to take him home, to see him settled and comfortable. To get him anything he wanted, no matter how outrageous the demand (well, Peter would have his limitations, but Moz would delight in fetching the Mona Lisa for him if it would make him happy).
Neal toyed with the phone, half hoping that the battery would drain if he turned it on and off often enough. Except that it was relatively new and still had a three-quarters charge.
Call Peter.
Neal’s fingers hovered over the keypad and he’d even entered the area code and the first five digits of Peter’s FBI-issued cell phone. But he couldn’t bring himself to complete the call. And he couldn’t understand why.
“Neal?”
He looked up and, to his surprise, Elizabeth was standing in the door. She was bundled up in a winter coat and when she came into his room, she was dragging a small suitcase.
“Hey there.” Her smile was a little sad, a little tentative.
“Hey, yourself. I wasn’t expecting to see you.” Neal shifted himself forward and ignored the pain in his healing body as he reached out for her. To his delight, she came into his arms and he felt himself start to cry. She was someone he’d missed without even realizing it.
Elizabeth was crying, too. Her tears soaked through the thin hospital gown, but Neal didn’t let go. She clung to him, too. They were like two birds, tossed in a terrible storm, desperately seeking even the most meager shelter.
But like all storms, this one passed and the tears stopped. She shifted, her hands bumping up against the bandage on his side, and he hissed at the sharp pain.
Elizabeth stepped back. “Sorry.”
Neal wondered just how much that apology was supposed to encompass. “It’s okay. Really.”
“How are you doing?”
Neal tilted his head; it was less uncomfortable than shrugging. “Physically, a lot better.”
Elizabeth homed in on what he wasn’t saying. “And other than physically?”
“I’ve been better.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ve been through hell. If you said you were fine, I'd call you a liar.”
Neal had to laugh. Trust Elizabeth Burke to cut through the bullshit. “Yeah, hell is probably a good way to put it. How much did Peter tell you?”
He couldn’t help but notice how she stiffened when he mentioned her husband’s name. He reached for her hand. “Elizabeth?”
She licked her lips and grimaced. “He didn’t provide a lot of detail, but he told me enough to give me nightmares. I didn’t want to say anything when I was up last weekend - it was … difficult.”
“You didn’t really seem yourself the other day. What’s going on?” Neal knew that this was a strange thing to ask - at least under the circumstances. But it was easier to deal with someone else’s problems than his own. “You and Peter – what’s the matter with the two of you?”
Elizabeth sighed and didn’t answer.
“You don’t want to talk about it?”
She sighed again and, pulling her hand free, she drifted over to the window. “I don’t know.” She sounded so lost.
“Why not take off your coat and stay a while - they’ll be by with my very delicious lunch in a bit. I’ll be more than happy to share.”
That got a laugh out of her. “Hospital food? I should have brought you a cup of Amtrak coffee to go with it. Then we could really share the misery.” At least she did take off her coat and sat down next to him - in the chair that Peter had occupied for quite a while.
Elizabeth relaxed and the silence between them was comfortable. Earlier this morning, right after his doctor had brought the “good news,” the nurses had disconnected almost all the machinery he’d been hooked up to, everything except the intravenous infusion unit. He’d become so accustomed to the variety of beeps and pings that the lack of machine noise had been disconcerting. Now, the silence was gently punctuated by Elizabeth’s breathing, the ping of sleet hitting the window, and his own heartbeat.
And then Elizabeth broke the peace. “Peter and I need to work some problems out.” She sighed and admitted in a lower tone, almost a whisper, “They’re big ones – I don’t know if we can.”
Neal had to ask, “How much did my disappearance cause these problems?”
“Neal – ”
“Elizabeth – I need to know. I feel like it’s my fault.”
She inadvertently echoed her husband’s words to him yesterday. “You’re not the center of the universe, Neal Caffrey.” Her reply was sharp, but not enough to cut him.
“Really?” He tried for a little humor, but it fell flat. “El – ” He rarely, if ever used that diminutive – it was reserved for Peter (and occasionally Mozzie). But right now, he needed to make that connection to her. She seemed so … lost. And he felt responsible.
“Are you really up to playing marriage counselor, Neal?”
Neal kept pushing. “Why are you deflecting?”
Elizabeth leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. Neal wondered what she saw. He’d had so much time looking at it that he’d actually named the stains on each of the acoustic tiles.
“It’s complicated, Neal.”
“I’m a smart guy, maybe I can help. If you let me.”
Elizabeth didn’t respond right away, but Neal could sense that she was trying to find a way to tell him what was going on. And when she did speak, Neal was stunned by her words.
“I failed Peter.”
“No! That’s not possible. The two of you - ”
“Yeah, the two of us – we always seemed so flawless. The two halves of a perfect whole. We had our own language. And yeah, we fought – but we always worked through it. Peter could be an ass at times, and so could I – but the foundation was solid. Or so I thought.” Elizabeth let out a shaky breath. “I shouldn’t dump this on you.”
“If not me, then who? Have you talked with anyone?”
“No – I couldn’t. How could I admit to anyone that I failed Peter in so many ways?”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because I did. I went swanning about my business, enjoying my new life in D.C., and I was deliberately blind to how much my husband needed me.”
“El – no.” He wasn’t sure what he was denying.
“Your disappearance was killing him and I didn’t want to see that. When I told you last week that I thought you’d left and I was happy you had, what I didn’t tell you was that that fractured something between Peter and me. I broke us, Neal.”
Neal opened and closed his mouth, like a gasping fish, unable to breathe despite the air. “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.” That was the only thing he could say.
“Oh, sweetie – no, not at all. You aren’t to blame – you were kidnapped. How could you think this was your fault?”
“If I hadn’t been so good at being a criminal…”
“Neal, no – that’s just stupidity. You didn’t do this to yourself. You’re not responsible for what happened between me and Peter.”
Neal had to laugh. “You and Peter – you’re both very good at exonerating me from all the chaos I’ve brought into your lives. When Keller kidnapped you, Peter told me it wasn’t my fault. Every time that Peter lost his badge or when he landed in jail, I was told that no, it wasn’t my fault. Maybe if someone did blame me, I might have …” He shook his head and ran out of steam. “I don’t know – I might have behaved more like the man you guys thought I could be and less like the criminal I actually am.” This was a variation on what he’d said to Peter yesterday – and unlike Peter, Elizabeth didn’t pull her punches.
“If you want to blame yourself for getting kidnapped and forced to create those printing plates, if you want to be a martyr – fine. But not about this. This is my fault, Neal. Not yours.” The fury in Elizabeth’s voice left him singed.
“How can I help?”
“You can’t, Neal.” Elizabeth’s tone gentled and she took his hand, squeezing it lightly. “But – but thank you for wanting to help.”
They settled back into silence. Neal wondered if he should tell her that he was being sprung today. And decided not to.
Maybe if he didn’t say anything, it wouldn’t happen.
Tags:
- character: clinton jones,
- character: diana berrigan,
- character: elizabeth burke,
- character: june ellington,
- character: landon shepherd,
- 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
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no subject
Date: 2014-11-20 11:44 pm (UTC)It surprised me, and then it didn't, that she went to see Neal first. She does see clearly what's needed.
Neal, though... I don't know whether to laugh or cry when he says, in effect, that he didn't take responsibility for his actions because El and Peter didn't make him. Oh, the irony. And the heartbreak. He really doesn't understand the important distinction between "blame" and "responsibility", and is too quick to blame himself for things he didn't control while still not quite taking responsibility for dealing with the consequences.
It breaks my heart that Neal is so terrified of leaving the hospital and can't say so. What's going to happen to him...?