White Collar Fic - We Followed an Unlikely Star - A Wonder(ful) Years Story

[elrhiarhodan]

Title: We Followed an Unlikely Star
Author: elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Original Characters, Peter/Neal
Word Count: ~4000
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Mention of death of non-canon characters, non-canon death of canon characters, reference to attempted sexual assault of a minor
Beta Credit: sinfulslasher
Summary: Peter and Neal, after nearly thirty years together, finally tie the knot. But they could not have gotten to this moment without remembering the ones who gave them the strength to love.

Author’s Note: Written for pooh_collector, for the first night of Fic-Can-Ukah 2016, for the prompt "On the Eve of the Wedding". Please keep a full box of tissues handy.

__________________



October, 2012

"And now, by the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you married. Go ahead, kiss each other already." Mozzie, naturally, couldn't help but conclude the ceremony with the tiniest bit of snark.

Neal was on the verge of tears. He hadn't expected to be so emotional about this moment. And then, he wasn't just on the verge, he was crying. But Peter, glorious Peter, was there, his hands cupping around his face, his thumbs wiping away the tears. Much as Neal had done for Peter last night.

And of course, Peter was crying, too. Which meant that Neal got the chance to touch his husband's cheeks, to wipe away his tears.

"Tears of joy?"

"Always."

Peter kissed him like he had for the past thirty years, like a king, a conqueror, and Neal gave as good as he got, in the process gentling that kiss.

They kissed and forgot that they had an audience. The people witnessing the ceremony were the most important people in their lives. These were the friends and family who had been with them for so much of their journey together. The people who had witnessed their joy and their pain, and ultimately, their triumph over a world that had once condemned their love.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Last night, a private dining suite at the Rainbow Room

"Where are the strippers?" Elizabeth asked, her voice just a little slurred. She was on her third Bellini.

"Strippers?" Neal had no idea where that request was coming from.

"This is a bachelor party, right? Shouldn't there be strippers?"

"This isn't a bachelor party, El."

"Eh, that's beside the point."

Neal wasn't going to argue with an inebriated Elizabeth Mitchell. So he just said, "You do know that Peter and I are gay. Boobs are a beautiful part of the anatomy, but they don't do anything for either of us."

"Male strippers, silly! Didn't you see that movie? The one with all the pretty men taking off their clothes?"

They had, of course. "Magic Mike?"

"Yeah - that one. You should have strippers. Male strippers." El was charming in her drunken insistence.

Neal caught Mozzie's eye, and his old friend came to his rescue. Moz relieved El of her glass and steered her over to a server with a tray of canapés. She needed some food to absorb the unaccustomed quantities of alcohol.

Neal greeted the other guests and wandered over to the wall of windows that overlooked the magnificence of Manhattan. They were too far up to see the base of the Rockefeller Center complex, not that it was particularly exciting this time of year - without the tree and the skating rink, it was a fairly mundane sight, particularly for New Yorkers.

"You doing okay?" Peter came over and wrapped his arms around Neal from behind.

"Yeah." Neal sighed. "We're getting married tomorrow. I can't quite believe it, can you?"

"Mmm, it's … hard."

Neal was about to reply with a double-entendre and rock back against Peter. But after nearly thirty years, Peter knew just what he was going to do and stepped to the side. "Don't even think about it."

Neal just laughed. "You know me too well."

Helen, Neal's right hand at the office, came over with a small plate of hors d'oeuvres. "Here, you need to keep your strength up." She made a point of handing it to Peter, not to Neal.

Neal pretended to be insulted. "Remind me again why I invited you."

Helen smirked. "Because I'd never finish another one of your reports if you didn't."

"Blackmailed, in other words." Neal looked over at Peter, who was making quick work of some canapés. "See what I put up with?"

"And because you like me." Helen's grin softened. "You like me enough that you want me to help celebrate the most important day of your life."

Neal nodded and sighed. "Yes, I do. Now, how about getting me something to help keep my strength up?"

Helen rolled her eyes and made her way back across the room. "Best decision of my life, picking her out of the pool of probies."

Peter chuckled. "Best decision? I thought that was asking me to marry you, or agreeing to marry me."

Neal shook his head. "You know what I mean."

Peter offered him the plate - it had one piece left. "Yes, I most certainly do."

"Why are you two boys looking so serious?" Now it was Peter's father's turn to bedevil them. "And why are you standing here, all by yourselves? This is your wedding reception. Although I've never heard of having the reception on the eve of the wedding."

"That's because we are flying to Paris tomorrow afternoon and have to leave right after the ceremony," Peter explained.

"Because my husband-to-be refused to let me hire a private plane for us," Neal added.

Joe chuckled. "My son, the tightwad."

Peter disagreed. "No, your son, the collector of credit card miles that were about to expire."

It wasn't that there was any lack of flights from New York to Paris, but Peter had accumulated miles on his credit card and wanted to use them for this trip - which meant having to deal with the limited availability of first class seating. Neal had wanted to get a chartered flight, but Peter put his foot down. It was - in Peter's mind - bad enough that Neal was paying for everything else, including almost two weeks in a private suite at one of the most expensive hotels in Paris.

Joe gave them both a look and Neal felt his heart melt just a little. He could see Peter in that look, Peter thirty-five years into the future. Then Joe smiled and the illusion was broken. Somewhat.

He and Peter were celebrating with a very small, very select group of friends. Mozzie and Elizabeth, who they'd known since elementary school; Jack and Amy Franklin, former colleagues and now both former agents - Jack had put in his twenty and retired last year; Dov Hershkovitz, who had so delicately engineered the timing of their engagement; and of course Reese Hughes - long retired, but recently widowed.

The maitre d' assigned to their suite came over and told Neal that the first course was about to be served, and he and Peter took their place at the head of the table.

The conversation flowed freely, and Neal felt himself riding on a wave of contentment. He'd been to quite a few weddings of late. He and Peter had received a veritable cascade of invitations from acquaintances who'd been quick to take advantage of the new marriage equality law in New York, couples who had been together only a fraction of the time that he and Peter had been together. Too many of those affairs had been big and gaudy, with guest lists filled with people the grooms and the brides barely knew.

No, this was better - a small and intimate dinner followed by a ceremony in their apartment tomorrow morning.

Elizabeth, now sober but still ebullient, was regaling their guests with stories from their teenage years. She turned to Amy and said, "You know that Peter and Neal were together since high school, but did you know that they'd been friends since elementary school?"

Amy blinked. "You've got to be kidding me. Since they were babies?" Amy looked at Neal and in her typical, balls of brass fashion, commented, "You are a freak, Caffrey. What did Burke do, sharpen your pencil for you when the two of you were in fourth grade?"

Peter snorted. "Amy, do you know what you just implied?"

Amy apparently didn't, and turned bright red.

"Actually, Peter came to my fuzzy bear's rescue when they were in fourth grade." Elizabeth leaned over and rubbed Mozzie's bald head.

"And got suspended for my pains."

Dov, who'd been chatting with Reese, looked up. "This is a story I have to hear."

Neal let Peter tell the tale of that infamous game of dodgeball gone bad and by the time Peter was finished, everyone was in stitches.

Joe raised his glass and offered a toast. "My son, the hero."

Peter, being Peter and hating praise, no matter how well deserved, blushed.

The servers had cleared the dishes away and there was a pause between courses. Neal swallowed and looked over at Peter, who nodded. They'd talked about this at length and agreed that while they were disregarding many formal conventions of the wedding process, the wedding speeches were something they couldn't forgo.

Neal got to his feet, but left his wine glass on the table. Conscious of everyone's gaze, he reached out and took Peter's hand. Peter gave it an encouraging squeeze, but didn't let go. Neal closed his eyes and centered himself before speaking.

"We never thought this day would come, and Peter will tell you that I hadn't had any particular respect for the idea of a 'commitment ceremony' or even the civil union that some states are offering now. Peter and I didn't need that, we've been together for a lifetime. We've survived the plague years, we've had our love and commitment to each other belittled and derided - both at a personal level and at an institutional one. But we've survived and only grown stronger. Yes, we have each other and there is something profound - " Neal paused and took a breath to buy some time and get control over his emotions. "Profound and almost holy about our love, but we would never have made it here today without our family."

Neal paused again and took another breath. "No, I should say, without Peter's family."

Joe interrupted him. "We're your family, too, Neal. Always."

Neal nodded. "There's a part of my life that very few people know about. All of them are here, in this room. My husband-to-be and a man I've called Uncle Joe since I was thirteen, but a man who has been my father in every possible way. And I want to share it with you, but although a part of it is very ugly, the greater part of it is something so beautiful that it has to be shared.

"When I was eleven, my mother married a wealthy and powerful man and I loathed him on sight. But he made my mother happy and she brushed off my problems. After all, I'd idolized my real father and I needed to give her new husband a chance." Neal looked back at Peter, and there was nothing but love and encouragement in his gaze, and it gave Neal the courage to continue.

"The spring I turned thirteen, Peter's dad was coaching my Little League team and although I'd made the game winning hit, my stepfather wasn't happy with me. He'd come to the game and seen me strike out the first time and when I wouldn't let him hug me, he started berating me and drove off, leaving me behind.

"Peter and Joe overheard what happened and they didn't make a big deal or fuss over my stepfather's behavior. Peter invited me over for dinner and I think that was one of the best nights of my life."

Joe interrupted and asked Peter, "Do you remember what I told you?" His voice was cracking.

Peter nodded. "You told me to be a friend."

Neal swallowed hard. "Peter was a friend, and more than that, his family was, too. Because a few weeks after that, my stepfather - " Neal took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The memory of those nights, the terror he'd felt, was still real, still present in his consciousness. "My stepfather tried to molest me."

There were murmurs from his friends, and Neal continued. "I know that this isn't really something that one talks about at a wedding reception, but my telling has a purpose. I managed to escape from my stepfather's house and without thinking, without wondering if I'd be given shelter, I went to Peter's." Neal smiled at the memory of tossing rocks and waking Peter up. "Peter and his family gave me shelter, and not only did they keep me safe, they very quietly and very carefully restored my trust in the world."

Neal continued, "I would not be the man I am today without Peter Burke, without Joe Burke, and without - " He paused, grief a ball of pain in his throat, "Without Cathy Burke."

Joe let out a small sob. So did Peter.

"Cathy - Peter's mom - should be here today and see the proof of her love, her compassion, her wisdom. But all we can do remember her and honor that love and compassion and wisdom." Neal picked up his glass. "To Cathy Burke, thank you."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Peter had always been awed by Neal's bravery, but this moment - this baring of his soul - rocked Peter to his core. They'd talked about this, about sharing the darkest moment in Neal's young life and Peter couldn't counsel him in either direction, he'd just said that he'd support Neal in whatever decision he wanted to make.

Neal sat down and Peter gave him a proud smile. He loved this man so very much.

Neal leaned in and kissed him, then whispered in his ear, "I'm a real mood killer and have to fix this, so roll with this, okay?"

Peter kissed him back. "Of course."

Neal pitched his voice so the whole table would hear, but he directed himself to Peter's father. "Joe, do you remember that time when Peter and I had had some difficulties when we were still in high school?"

His dad nodded. "Yeah, my son behaved like a jackass for reasons I still don't know, but he came to his senses."

"And do you remember the day we reconciled?" Neal had a lilt in his voice and Peter remembered the moment with perfect clarity.

His dad furrowed his brow. "Cathy and I were going away for the weekend. I remember I was annoyed because Peter was late coming home, but then he was there with you and everything was all right."

Neal kept pushing at the moment. "Do you remember what you did, before you and Cathy left for the weekend?"

"Hmm, that was a long time ago, Neal. Nearly thirty years you're asking about - I can barely remember what I have for breakfast these days." But his dad was clearly trying to remember. "Wait, didn't I give you two twenty bucks and tell you not to spend the whole weekend studying?"

Neal nodded. "You paid for our first real date, Joe. You didn't know it but that was when we'd come out to each other. That afternoon."

His dad shook his head, smiling. "So, I guess you boys hadn't gotten pizza and gone to the movies."

Neal looked over at Peter, his eyes twinkling. "Do you want to tell your dad what we really did?"

Peter glanced around the table; everyone was staring at him and even if he wanted, there was no way he was going to get out of this gracefully. "Well, we did get pizza, but passed up on the movies and spent the weekend making out on every horizontal surface in the house."

That story definitely lightened the mood and brought out other stories, particularly from El and Moz, who'd gotten together that weekend, too.

There was a pause between courses and it was Peter's turn to speak.

"There is another person in our lives who should be here, someone who gave up everything for Neal - someone who loved him and kept him safe and never counted the cost, until it was too late."

Peter looked at Neal, who was wearing a sad smile.

"Neal's Aunt Ellen - his father's sister - became Neal's guardian when it was clear that Neal's mother wouldn't be there for him. Ellen was a good cop, a loving and wise protector, a person of great strength and honor. I don't think that either Neal or I would be the men we are today without her presence in our lives." Peter didn't mention the long separation between Neal and Ellen or her self-loathing homophobia - neither was relevant or had a place in this moment. All the guests needed to know was that Ellen loved Neal and all she wanted was his happiness.

Peter lifted his glass. "To Ellen Caffrey, who made my husband-to-be the man that he is today. Honorable, courageous, and loving."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Joe hadn't expected to spend this evening on the verge of tears. He'd always been an emotional man and as the years passed, he stopped trying to hide his feelings.

He looked at Peter and Neal, the son of his blood and the son of his heart, and he couldn't be prouder of them, happier for them. And he wanted to cry.

One of Neal's friends, Dov - the jeweler who'd reset Cathy's diamond into Peter's engagement ring for Neal and who'd made Neal's ring for Peter - noticed his distress. He touched Joe's hand and asked, "Are you okay?"

Joe tried to smile. "If I said I'm fine, would you believe me?"

Dov smiled gently. "No, of course not. You are so proud of them."

Joe nodded, all but overcome. "How can I not? They are my miracle. I'm just an overwhelmed old man who keeps thinking that there are too many people who should be here to share this moment but aren't."

"Your wife, Cathy? Neal spoke so beautifully of her. And I remember his stories about her - and you. Neal and Peter are lucky men."

"I'm the lucky one, to have such beautiful and loving sons." Joe fought for his composure. "I wasn't just talking of my wife, or of Neal's aunt." He took a deep breath. "My brother, James. And his partner, Robbie. They should be here, too."

Dov's expression was unutterably sympathetic. "Ah. They've been gone a long time?"

Joe swallowed hard against the pain. "I was fourteen when my parents kicked him out of the house and I was seventeen when James was murdered by some bigots who thought it would be fun to take an iron pipe to some faggot's skull." Joe was panting from the effort to keep his voice low. "Sorry. James has been gone a very long time and I still miss him. Times like this, his memory is very close to the surface."

Dov didn't judge or offer some meaningless platitude. "My people have a saying when speaking of the beloved dead, 'may their memory be a blessing'. I think your brother's memory is a great blessing, and if you can - perhaps you should share it with all of us."

Joe felt himself trembling. "Honestly, Dov, I don't think I can. I'm barely holding it together now. This is supposed to be a wedding, a happy moment."

"And yet, Neal had - in honoring his memory of your beloved wife - shared something deeply tragic and personal. Peter raised his glass to the memory of another beloved family member who's no longer with us. It would be fitting to honor your brother's memory, if you can."

Joe didn't disagree. But he was too close to the edge and looking at the happy faces around the table, at the husbands-to-be, smiling and laughing, he couldn't bring himself to introduce any more sadness into their lives. "Thank you, Dov, but no. Not tonight."

Dov nodded. "I understand."

A server came around and asked if he would like some coffee. He asked for decaf and then excused himself, seeking refuge in the men's room lounge. The attendant left him alone and Joe sat for a few minutes, trying to find his composure.

The door opened but Joe didn't look up. "Dad?"

Joe wiped away the tears. "Sorry, son. I'm just …"

Peter sat down next to him and draped an arm over Joe's shoulder. "I know. I miss her, too."

Joe rested his head against Peter's shoulder. "I was thinking about my brother." He didn't say anything else.

They sat there for a few more minutes and Peter pressed a kiss onto Joe's forehead. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Joe took a deep breath and realized that yes, he was. "We should go back in. Wouldn't want your fiancé to think you're getting cold feet."

Peter laughed. "No, that wouldn't do at all."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Neal had watched the exchange between Joe and Dov and couldn't help but see how emotional Joe was getting. When Joe had excused himself, Neal went to ask Dov what they'd talked about.

All Dov said was, "His lost brother."

Peter had gone to check on Joe and a few minutes later, both men returned. It wasn't hard to see that Joe had been crying, but was past his crisis. Neal couldn't have loved this man more if he tried.

The conversation ebbed and flowed over coffee and dessert. The traditional wedding cake was for tomorrow, after the ceremony.

Peter leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I think we have to make one more toast."

Neal nodded. "Both of us?"

"Of course."

As one, they got to their feet and the guests quieted. Neal looked to Peter for guidance, not certain who should start. At Peter's subtle nod, Neal began. "The winter break before Peter and I graduated Harvard, we'd decided to come out to Peter's family. We'd been prepared for the worst, but we couldn't keep denying who we were and how much we loved each other."

Peter picked up the thread of the story. "I knew that my parents were, in theory, very tolerate and accepting people. I'd never heard them use any homophobic slurs or would allow me to, either." Peter rubbed his cheek. "In fact, the only time I can remember any sort of physical 'discipline' from either parent was when I called a classmate a fa- " Peter quickly self-edited, "A nasty word for gays. My mother slapped me across the face. But while they might have been tolerant for the world in general, we were afraid that they wouldn't be so tolerant and accepting of us. Neal and I wanted to have that one last Christmas before coming out to my parents, we wanted to build some final happy memories."

Neal continued the story. "But Joe and Cathy stole our thunder. Christmas Eve, they told us that they knew we were gay, and that we loved each other. But they didn't just come out and say it. They gave Peter a photo album, filled with pictures of three boys as they grew into young men. The youngest was Joe, from the time he was a toddler. The other two boys were Joe's brother James and James' best friend, Robbie. The pictures told a story of three boys bound by brotherhood, by friendship, by love. And ultimately, by tragedy." Neal looked at Joe, who was crying again and Neal's own emotions began to overflow.

Peter finished the story. "My uncle was killed a decade before I was born. His partner, Robbie, left medical school and joined the military. He was part of the first wave of personnel who were sent to Southeast Asia, where he was killed in action. These are two people I've never met, but they have had a profound influence on my life. They taught my father that love is never wrong, that everyone has the right to love who they want to love, without fear. Neal and I own our lives, our happiness to James Burke and his beloved Robbie."

Neal raised his glass and everyone stood. "To James and Robbie."

"To James and Robbie."

He put down his glass, and took Peter's face between his hands, wiping away the tears. "I love you so very much. And I am so proud I will become your husband tomorrow."

Peter kissed him and his kiss tasted like happiness.

FIN

Note: For those of you who haven't read the Wonder(ful) Years in a while, this story refers to events in many others:

Peter's elementary school heroism: Chapter Two of The Wonderful Years
The beginning of Neal's friendship with Peter: Chapter Three of The Wonderful Years
Elizabeth and Mozzie: Sex on the Beach
Peter and Neal's honeymoon: Honeymoon in Paris
Original Character: Helen Chen and Dov Hershkovitz: Something We Never Dreamt We Could Have
Original Character: Amy Grainger: It's Life That Just Sharpens the Blade
Aunt Ellen's story: Come to Journey's End
Original Characters: James Burke, Robbie: Love How You Want to Love (and Love Who You Please)
Peter and Neal coming out: Love Is Never Wrong