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elrhiarhodanTitle: Out of Memory and Time
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, Mozzie
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Death Fic. Non-canonical death of a canon character.
Word Count: ~600
Summary: The spirit, cut from the body in a moment of startled agony, lingers. Neal tries to bring solace to those he left behind, and to make sense of what happened. Written for Hurt/Comfort Bingo – Trapped Between Realities.
A/N: No beta. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Inspired by Wim Wender’s classic, Wings of Desire. Title from Annie Lennox’s song (from Return of the King) Into the West.
__________________
He stands with them, on the top of the northeast support for the George Washington Bridge, waiting for the sun to rise, waiting for life to begin again. But it is a futile vigil. Life, as he once knew it, will never begin again for him. Other angels gather around him, perched on the massive cables like fantastic pigeons, facing the dawn with wings spread wide in defiance of the wind.
But they wait in vain.
There is no true dark in New York anymore. There hasn’t been for centuries. But that doesn’t matter. It is the sun that brings them back to this place (as they are now) and gives them hope (for a future that will never come).
Neal died at dawn, in a moment he cannot remember. And yet he does remember watching his friends mourn him, grief and shock aging them.
For days and weeks and now years, he lingers beside Peter, watching him as he works. In moments of stillness, Neal rests a hand on Peter’s shoulder and whispers odd bits of poetry and literature to him. Goethe and Proust and Joyce – words that are just sounds, lyrical and perfect in their utterance. He sings too, without words – merely notes in patterns that somehow reflect his fading memories of their time together. Peter doesn’t hear him, but it seems to ease the sadness.
When he is away from Peter, Neal can’t recall the memories of what it was to be Peter-and-Neal, of the rhythms of their lives. He can’t recreate their harmonies without a living heartbeat for a counterpoint.
He visits Elizabeth too. He likes to sit next to her when she’s on the phone, talking to a client or a friend. He tries to remember the taste of her lips, the fragrance of her skin, the soft strength of her hands. He can’t, he knows that he once knew these things, and he tries to hold on to that as a memory.
He finds Moz alone, but he can’t help him. There’s a wall there – a barrier that keeps him out, that’s as close to pain as anything he’s experienced in this not-life. Maybe it’s the cold cement walls and the iron bars in this place he always finds his friend. He doesn’t know why Moz stays here – why he doesn’t leave. He tries to reach out but there is no way through to him.
There are other angels around him, but no one he recognizes. He’s looked for Kate, there was one angel with long dark hair and large blue eyes, but she didn’t recognize him and he could see nothing of Kate’s spirit within her. Maybe she is Kate, but is as lost to him now as she was when they were both living.
Neal hates the dark, he fears it; he fears the loss of self. The darkness takes away all that he remembers, all that he was and was to be. In the dark, that-which-was-Neal spreads his wings and soars high above The City. He’s tireless in his flight, searching for something he can’t name, something he suspects that he will never find.
And so dawn comes again, the sun weak and fitful, the sky low and grim with snow-laden clouds. Neal doesn’t feel the cold anymore, but then he can’t feel anything.
In his eyes, the dawn is filled with color, fire streaked with blue and gold, a moment of perfection before it all fades to gray.
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, Mozzie
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Death Fic. Non-canonical death of a canon character.
Word Count: ~600
Summary: The spirit, cut from the body in a moment of startled agony, lingers. Neal tries to bring solace to those he left behind, and to make sense of what happened. Written for Hurt/Comfort Bingo – Trapped Between Realities.
A/N: No beta. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Inspired by Wim Wender’s classic, Wings of Desire. Title from Annie Lennox’s song (from Return of the King) Into the West.
He stands with them, on the top of the northeast support for the George Washington Bridge, waiting for the sun to rise, waiting for life to begin again. But it is a futile vigil. Life, as he once knew it, will never begin again for him. Other angels gather around him, perched on the massive cables like fantastic pigeons, facing the dawn with wings spread wide in defiance of the wind.
But they wait in vain.
There is no true dark in New York anymore. There hasn’t been for centuries. But that doesn’t matter. It is the sun that brings them back to this place (as they are now) and gives them hope (for a future that will never come).
Neal died at dawn, in a moment he cannot remember. And yet he does remember watching his friends mourn him, grief and shock aging them.
For days and weeks and now years, he lingers beside Peter, watching him as he works. In moments of stillness, Neal rests a hand on Peter’s shoulder and whispers odd bits of poetry and literature to him. Goethe and Proust and Joyce – words that are just sounds, lyrical and perfect in their utterance. He sings too, without words – merely notes in patterns that somehow reflect his fading memories of their time together. Peter doesn’t hear him, but it seems to ease the sadness.
When he is away from Peter, Neal can’t recall the memories of what it was to be Peter-and-Neal, of the rhythms of their lives. He can’t recreate their harmonies without a living heartbeat for a counterpoint.
He visits Elizabeth too. He likes to sit next to her when she’s on the phone, talking to a client or a friend. He tries to remember the taste of her lips, the fragrance of her skin, the soft strength of her hands. He can’t, he knows that he once knew these things, and he tries to hold on to that as a memory.
He finds Moz alone, but he can’t help him. There’s a wall there – a barrier that keeps him out, that’s as close to pain as anything he’s experienced in this not-life. Maybe it’s the cold cement walls and the iron bars in this place he always finds his friend. He doesn’t know why Moz stays here – why he doesn’t leave. He tries to reach out but there is no way through to him.
There are other angels around him, but no one he recognizes. He’s looked for Kate, there was one angel with long dark hair and large blue eyes, but she didn’t recognize him and he could see nothing of Kate’s spirit within her. Maybe she is Kate, but is as lost to him now as she was when they were both living.
Neal hates the dark, he fears it; he fears the loss of self. The darkness takes away all that he remembers, all that he was and was to be. In the dark, that-which-was-Neal spreads his wings and soars high above The City. He’s tireless in his flight, searching for something he can’t name, something he suspects that he will never find.
And so dawn comes again, the sun weak and fitful, the sky low and grim with snow-laden clouds. Neal doesn’t feel the cold anymore, but then he can’t feel anything.
In his eyes, the dawn is filled with color, fire streaked with blue and gold, a moment of perfection before it all fades to gray.
