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elrhiarhodanTitle: We Shall Come Home – The World is Getting Stranger
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke, Reese Hughes, Original Characters
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~3,300
Beta Credit: None
Summary: A timestamp to my first epic story, We Shall Come Home (AO3 link to complete story). In the original story, Peter and Neal had been transformed into dogs and had to make their way back to civilization. Towards the end of their journey, they’d become separated and Neal was terribly injured – to the brink of death. But love – Peter’s love – saves him in the very last heartbeats of his life. This is the story of what happens immediately after that final scene.
A/N: A thank-you gift for my dear friend,kanarek13, for all of her hard work illustrating my Big Bang story (and for everything else she does). Back in June, when I did a timestamp meme, she asked for a small timestamp to We Shall Come Home: "Right after Neal was turned back, he was so weak and lying nekkid in Peter's arms, I'd love to see some caring and protective Peter there, after all, he got his Neal back.”
Title from the Oysterband song, “We Shall Come Home”.
__________________
Peter couldn’t take his hands off of Neal, he was afraid that if he lost that contact, he’d lose Neal forever. It wasn’t entirely a foolish thought – he could still feel the magic in the air, it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“He needs to go to the hospital.” El, ever practical, ever loving Elizabeth, was right.
“Will you call …” Peter didn’t even have to get the rest of the sentence out as Elizabeth started talking with the 911 dispatcher.
Peter just held onto Neal, who was awake but reaching the limits of his strength. He tucked Neal’s head into the crook of his shoulder and rocked him, whispering, “I’m here for you, I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here.”
When Neal tried to wrap his arms around him, his hand scrabbling weakly at his back, Peter shifted and made it easier for Neal to cling to him. El sat at his back, rubbing Neal’s bare skin and stroking Peter’s arm. She didn’t leave them until the doorbell rang – it was the ambulance.
He didn’t say anything to the techs beyond the most basic information they needed for his treatment. The put Neal onto a gurney and he cried out at the loss of contact – or maybe it was Peter.
“I need to ride with him.” It was a demand, not a request.
“Sorry, sir. We can’t let you do that. You can meet us at the hospital.”
“No – I can’t let him out of my sight.”
Neal reached for him, and he took his hand. He wasn’t going to let got.
Peter hated to do this – Neal would forgive him though. “This man’s an escaped felon, he’s in my custody. I can’t let him out of my sight.”
The EMT was adamant. “Sorry – those are the rules.”
“My husband’s an FBI agent.” El chimed in.
The guy was still skeptical. “Where’s your ID?”
Peter reached for his badge – but he wasn’t carrying it. Actually – he didn’t have it, it was still in Evidence. Elizabeth fetched a pair of his spare handcuffs from a credenza and slapped them on both Peter and Neal’s wrists before anyone could stop her.
“Now you have no choice in the matter. I ride with you.”
One of the techs reached for his radio.
“If you’re calling the NYPD, don’t bother. The FBI will be meeting us at the Emergency Room.”
The tech shook his head in disgust. “Okay then – let’s go. But stay out of the way.”
Peter held onto Neal’s hand as they wheeled him out and into the bus. El would follow and meet them there.
It wasn’t a long ride, and the techs did little more than take Neal’s vitals and give Peter aggravated stares. True to his word, the FBI – in the person of Reese Hughes – was waiting for them near the ambulance bay.
He flashed his badge and unlocked the cuffs. Before the techs took him into treatment, Hughes looked down at Neal, who was still gripping Peter’s hand.
“You okay, son?”
Neal smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah – I’d say I never felt better, but I wouldn’t want you to call me a liar.”
Hughes grinned. “Good to have you back. Now let go of Peter’s hand so they can take care of you.”
Neal reluctantly relaxed his grip, and Peter was instantly chilled. He started to follow the gurney when Hughes held him back.
“You’ve got to let them take care of Neal. He’s in good hands.”
Peter could – he didn’t want to – explain what he was feeling, but Hughes seemed to understand.
“I know you don’t want to let him out of your sight – but he’ll be all right.”
Peter let his boss, his friend; lead him to a private corner of the waiting room.
“We need to talk.”
Peter nodded.
“I’m doing what I can to save your career – but it’s going to be difficult.” Reese’s voice was pitched low.
“I know.”
“You have my backing, and Bancroft knows what happened. I updated him when I was on my way here.”
“He knows everything?” Peter was shocked.
“Yes, he does. And he doesn’t think I’m crazy.”
Peter covered his face with his hands. The agitation caused by his separation from Neal was momentary overtaken by his concern about his future. “It is crazy – it’s insane what happened.”
“But it did. I saw you … before. The forensics supports it.”
“I …” Peter trailed off. He hadn’t realized that Hughes had been there.
“And we have it on video.”
Peter looked up at Hughes. “What?”
“Jones had the presence of mind to record it on his phone – Berrigan too. It’s really rather amazing.”
Peter looked out across the waiting room. He wasn’t sure what to think. His best team – his right and left hands saw him transform.
“How are we going to explain this? The brass won’t have such opened minds like Bancroft. Neal and I disappeared for a week. I can’t even begin to imagine the manhunt.”
“Yeah – it was enormous and impressive. Hundreds of man hours fruitlessly spent looking for you. Dogs and aerial searches that turned up nothing. And yet, here you are.”
Peter was surprised at Hughes’ rather blasé tone.
“What are you planning?”
Hughes looked at him. “Don’t ask too many questions, Peter.”
“Plausible deniability?”
Hughes didn’t say anything for a moment. “You are going to have to face a Review Board. Caffrey will too”
“That’s what worries me. I can’t just stick to the facts. The facts are rather unbelievable.”
“I know. But all you need to tell them is that you were taken – kidnapped. You never saw their faces, you never heard their voices. You were kept drugged for a week and then dumped back at your home. You don’t know why this happened.”
“What about Neal? How am I going to explain that Neal wasn’t returned until today – almost a week later?”
Hughes didn’t say anything, he just gave Peter a very pointed look. Ah, plausible deniability.
“Neal will be able to confirm your story.”
The light dawned and Peter just nodded. But he was still curious how everything was handled when he was running free with Neal in the forest. “How did you handle the Marshals?”
“With boxing gloves. They had a shoot-on-sight order for Caffrey.”
“What!”
“Crawley has never forgiven the two of you for the whole Deckard debacle. No one likes to have their house cleaned for them. The Service made it personal. We shut them down.”
“How?”
Hughes told Peter about Clinton’s behind the scenes maneuvering. “You really need to give that man his wings. He’s well past due for a promotion.”
“I know, I know. I just don’t want to lose him.”
“You don’t have to lose him, but keeping him in a surveillance van is not the way to keep him, either. Let him run his own ops – he’s got leadership potential.”
Peter wasn’t sure what to say – Clinton was his best agent, and he did deserve a promotion. This was something he’d have to deal with later, when he was less focused on Neal. He laughed to himself. If that was the case, Jones might be staying in the surveillance van until Peter himself retired.
They were interrupted when the ER staff called out for a relative of Neal Caffrey. Peter went and did the intake when a thought occurred to him. There really should be guards on Neal’s treatment room – even if just to keep up appearances.
Elizabeth arrived just as he was finishing up, she was sitting with Reese and they were deep in conversation. Happiness blossomed within him – watching her talk, her little hands making big gestures, smiling and nodding at Hughes’ comments. When she looked up and saw him, her smile got bigger, brighter. Elizabeth hadn’t had a lot to smile about lately – but now, Peter wanted to do everything he possibly could to keep that smile on her beautiful face.
He went and sat down next to her, she leaned in and rested her head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around him. Peter was tired – exhausted – and if his doctor saw him, she’d probably want to re-admit him. But he could rest now – Neal was home, he going to be fine.
Hughes got up.
“I’m putting a protective detail on Caffrey, and one on you.”
Peter started to object, but Hughes held up his hand to quiet him.
“You were kidnapped, remember – we don’t know who or why, or why you were returned relatively unharmed. So, we’re going to presume there’s still a danger to you, your family and to Mr. Caffrey.”
Peter was a little surprised at the carrying tone in Reese’s voice, but then he followed his line of sight. There was a man and a woman approaching, both sporting navy-blue windbreakers with “U.S. Marshal” stenciled on the back. He caught Hughes’ eye. It was time to tap-dance.
The older of the pair introduced himself first. “Agent Hughes, Agent Burke? I’m Michael Weatherby, this is my partner Sam Hollister. The other Marshal, a woman in her mid-thirties, nodded at them, and then acknowledged Elizabeth. “Ma’am.”
Peter kept his face carefully blank. Based on what Hughes had told him and his own prior experience with the Service, this could get ugly, quickly.
“Director Tomlinson asked us to come down and handle the matter.”
“You’re not from the New York office?”
“No, sir. We’re based out of Boston.”
“How did you know we were here?” Peter looked up at Hughes.
“I called it in to the Director. I knew he was following Caffrey’s case.”
Neither of the Marshals looked particularly aggravated or even interested in the matter. “May we?” Weatherby gestured at the seats.
Hughes pulled two chairs over and the Marshals sat down across from Peter and Elizabeth. “We understand that Caffrey is back in your custody. Can you tell us what happened?”
Peter grimaced. He was about to commit a felony, albeit one supported by his boss and his boss’ boss. “About an hour ago, someone rang my doorbell, when I answered it, I found Neal – he was dumped on my doorstep. There was no sign of anyone on the street.”
“What did you do?”
Peter kept is simple. “I brought him inside, my wife, Elizabeth called 911 and when the EMTs refused to let me ride with Neal, I handcuffed myself to him.” That last sentence was at least the truth.
“Why didn’t you show them your badge?”
“I didn’t have it.”
This seemed to puzzle the Marshals. “How did you lose your badge.”
Damn – more lies. “When we were taken, the kidnappers stripped me – stripped us. They took everything.”
Hughes interrupted. “The details of Agent Burke and Mr. Caffrey’s kidnapping are on file. Director Tomlinson can authorize you to review it. None of this is relevant now – we need to find who did this.”
Thankfully, the Marshals seemed to agree. Weatherby took a tracking anklet out a pocket, with a new key.
“I don’t think that’s necessary now.” Peter looked at the black plastic cuff with disgust.
The Marshals shrugged and Hollister spoke up for the first time. “If you do activate it, don’t forget to call it in. We know that Caffrey has less than four months to go – it would be a shame if he ran again.”
Weatherby stood up and gave Peter his card. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Peter was skeptical and that must have shown on his face.
“Not all of us were unhappy to hear what you did to Rick Deckard. He was a boil on the butt of the Service. Thank you.” Weatherby held out his hand, Peter shook it. Hollister did the same. Both nodded to Hughes and left.
Hughes didn’t say anything. You never knew who was listening.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The doctors poked and prodded at Neal, they stuck him with needles and probes and took his blood like gleeful vampires. By the time they finished, he had an IV and dozens of leads sprouting out of him. But Neal didn’t care – all he wanted was to see Peter.
And Elizabeth. As much as he needed to see Peter, he longed for Elizabeth. For her smile and her soft hands, her blue eyes and tart common sense. He ached for her and it surprised him.
The ER was busy – beds filled with patients were stacked all around, the nurses and medical personnel rushed about, the call system making announcements every few minutes. Neal thought he was going to go mad from the cacophony. Two young men in suits and sunglasses, completely out of place in this setting walked by then stopped.
“Mr. Caffrey?”
“Yes” He croaked – his vocal cords were dry from disuse. “Yeah – that’s me.”
“I’m Agent Silvers and this is Agent Morton – we’re your protective detail.”
Neal was puzzled. “My detail?”
“We don’t want someone to kidnap you again.” Agent Silvers smiled, he meant to be reassuring.
Kidnapping – that’s how they are going to play it. “Hmm…” Neal cleared his throat again. “Do you think that one of you could see if Agent Burke is in the waiting room? I need to see him.”
Silvers looked at his partner, who nodded and left. Neal thanked him.
It was a very long few minutes before Morton returned with Peter. His agitation, his anxiety began to fade away at the sight of Peter’s smile.
“Can you give us a little privacy?” Peter gave the two young agents a very pointed look. They didn’t go far, but it was far enough. Peter whisked the curtain closed.
Neal held out his hand, and Peter grasped it. He didn’t quite know what to say. “How are you?” That was easy.
Peter squeezed his hand. “Better – now.”
“How much do you remember?”
“I remember everything.”
Neal was overcome by the emotion in Peter’s voice and he couldn’t stop his own tears.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Peter wiped the tears away with the edge of his thumb.
“Sorry – I’m just…”
“It’s all right. I was the same – worse even.”
Neal leaned into Peter’s hand, and shocked them both when he pressed a kiss into his palm.
“I … I don’t know why I did that.” Neal burned in embarrassment.
Peter was about to say something when raised voices from the agents guarding Neal interrupted, and the curtain flew opened. Peter automatically took up a defensive position, apparently forgetting that there really was nothing to guard against – or he was just very good at playing the game.
Agent Morton had his gun out and Agent Silvers had his arm around a late middle-aged woman in a white coat with a metal clipboard.
“Gentlemen – get your hands off me.”
To Neal’s surprise, Peter told the other agents to stand down. “It’s okay – she’s a doctor. They have those here, oddly enough.”
The doctor was equally surprised. “Agent Burke – what are you doing here.” She looked at Neal – he gave her a weak grin, then back at Peter. “Ah – they found your partner.”
“Yeah – we got him back this morning, Dr. Stein.”
The doctor, who turned her focus back to Neal, cast a critical eye on him. “You look worse than your partner did when he came, Agent Caffrey.”
Neal was about to correct her, when Peter caught his eye and answered. “Being kidnapped does that to a person.”
“Kidnapped?” The doctor was shocked.
“It’s really not something we can discuss. Not here, not now.”
The doctor paused – Neal could see she had dozens of questions she wanted to ask him. “Agent Caffrey…”
Neal didn’t like the appellation. “Call me Neal, please.”
“Neal – are you up to answering some questions – or should I talk with Agent Burke.”
He looked at Peter, needing his approval for the boatload of lies he was about to deliver. Peter gave him a very slight nod.
“I don’t really know how much I can answer – I don’t really remember much.” Best to keep it simple.
“Why don’t we start with some of your medical history.”
He answered the doctor’s questions honestly, until she started with what had happened over the last two weeks. It wasn’t that hard to pretend fatigue. He was exhausted, and he let Peter answer as much as possible. When Peter explained that they had been drugged, the doctor pursed her lips and asked very quietly if he wanted to have a rape kit processed.
“No – no. I don’t think anything happened – not that.” Neal knew exactly what happened – that this was all a lie, but he felt shaky, upset.
She frowned. “There’s a limited time to obtain evidence – if you were drugged…”
“Doctor – believe me, I’d know.”
She shook her head, clearly troubled. “I’d like your permission, please.” Neal declined.
The doctor turned to Peter. “Were you drugged, too?”
Peter waves off her question. “It’s irrelevant now. How soon can you get Neal into a room?”
Neal reached out and took Peter’s hand, instantly grounding himself.
The doctor made some notes, opened his gown and saw the marks left by the Taser.
“What happened here?”
Neal kept his explanation simple as she flipped through his chart.
He had to ask. “How is my heart?”
Peter squeezed his hand.
“Your condition, overall, isn’t good. Like your partner, you are malnourished, your preliminary blood work is all over the place, and we’ll need to run more tests, but the EKG was normal. Your heart seems fine.
Neal closed his eyes in relief. It was hard to believe that a few hours ago he was lying on Peter’s floor, struggling for breath, waiting to die.
The doctor left and Peter closed the curtain. Agents Morton and Silvers were still standing guard.
Peter brushed his hand through Neal’s hair. “You should rest.”
“Yeah – but…” He didn’t want to close his eyes. He was afraid, that this was a dream, that he’d wake up alone, frightened, dying.
Peter tucked the blanket under his chin. “Close your eyes, Neal. I’ll be here.”
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Peter watched as Neal obeyed his command. The ER was chaotic, and beyond the curtain were all the noises of a dozen emergencies. Monitors chiming and beeping and pinging, patients moaning in pain and fear, but Neal slept. Peter contemplated the miracle in front of him. Love. Something so simple, so essential – so perfect.
Even the short distance of time since his transformation has made it more dreamlike than reality. As he told Neal, he remembered everything, but the driving urgency, the pain; the fear was being supplanted by a sense of rightness, that no matter what, this is how it was supposed to be.
He didn’t know how long he stood at Neal’s bedside; his reverie was interrupted when he heard Elizabeth’s voice. Stepping out from behind the curtain, he waved her over. The two agents standing guard relaxed and let her through.
“How is he?”
Peter hugged her. “He’ll be all right.”
“How are you?”
“I’m … better. I’m good.” Peter looked at Elizabeth. Her beautiful face was marked with the strain of the past few days. “You?”
She smiled and a lot of the weariness eased. “Better, too, now. Everything will be fine.” She leaned against him, relaxing.
Neal moaned in his sleep and shifted his legs restlessly, but he didn’t wake. He tossed a bit, and Peter was suddenly, unreasonably anxious. He rested a hand on Neal’s shoulder and they both calmed down.
“That was interesting.”
Peter looked back at Elizabeth. She had a shrewd expression on her face. “What?”
“Neal quieted as soon as you touched him.”
“He wasn’t the only one?”
“What do you mean?”
“I got agitated too. When Neal relaxed, it went away.” Peter swallowed and closed his eyes, burying his face in the crown of her head.
El didn’t say anything. She wrapped her arms around Peter and held him close. He knew she was worried. He felt the same. The connection he had with Neal in the forest was back and as strong as it had been when they had been other creatures.
When they had been dogs.
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke, Reese Hughes, Original Characters
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~3,300
Beta Credit: None
Summary: A timestamp to my first epic story, We Shall Come Home (AO3 link to complete story). In the original story, Peter and Neal had been transformed into dogs and had to make their way back to civilization. Towards the end of their journey, they’d become separated and Neal was terribly injured – to the brink of death. But love – Peter’s love – saves him in the very last heartbeats of his life. This is the story of what happens immediately after that final scene.
A/N: A thank-you gift for my dear friend,
kanarek13, for all of her hard work illustrating my Big Bang story (and for everything else she does). Back in June, when I did a timestamp meme, she asked for a small timestamp to We Shall Come Home: "Right after Neal was turned back, he was so weak and lying nekkid in Peter's arms, I'd love to see some caring and protective Peter there, after all, he got his Neal back.”Title from the Oysterband song, “We Shall Come Home”.
Peter couldn’t take his hands off of Neal, he was afraid that if he lost that contact, he’d lose Neal forever. It wasn’t entirely a foolish thought – he could still feel the magic in the air, it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“He needs to go to the hospital.” El, ever practical, ever loving Elizabeth, was right.
“Will you call …” Peter didn’t even have to get the rest of the sentence out as Elizabeth started talking with the 911 dispatcher.
Peter just held onto Neal, who was awake but reaching the limits of his strength. He tucked Neal’s head into the crook of his shoulder and rocked him, whispering, “I’m here for you, I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here.”
When Neal tried to wrap his arms around him, his hand scrabbling weakly at his back, Peter shifted and made it easier for Neal to cling to him. El sat at his back, rubbing Neal’s bare skin and stroking Peter’s arm. She didn’t leave them until the doorbell rang – it was the ambulance.
He didn’t say anything to the techs beyond the most basic information they needed for his treatment. The put Neal onto a gurney and he cried out at the loss of contact – or maybe it was Peter.
“I need to ride with him.” It was a demand, not a request.
“Sorry, sir. We can’t let you do that. You can meet us at the hospital.”
“No – I can’t let him out of my sight.”
Neal reached for him, and he took his hand. He wasn’t going to let got.
Peter hated to do this – Neal would forgive him though. “This man’s an escaped felon, he’s in my custody. I can’t let him out of my sight.”
The EMT was adamant. “Sorry – those are the rules.”
“My husband’s an FBI agent.” El chimed in.
The guy was still skeptical. “Where’s your ID?”
Peter reached for his badge – but he wasn’t carrying it. Actually – he didn’t have it, it was still in Evidence. Elizabeth fetched a pair of his spare handcuffs from a credenza and slapped them on both Peter and Neal’s wrists before anyone could stop her.
“Now you have no choice in the matter. I ride with you.”
One of the techs reached for his radio.
“If you’re calling the NYPD, don’t bother. The FBI will be meeting us at the Emergency Room.”
The tech shook his head in disgust. “Okay then – let’s go. But stay out of the way.”
Peter held onto Neal’s hand as they wheeled him out and into the bus. El would follow and meet them there.
It wasn’t a long ride, and the techs did little more than take Neal’s vitals and give Peter aggravated stares. True to his word, the FBI – in the person of Reese Hughes – was waiting for them near the ambulance bay.
He flashed his badge and unlocked the cuffs. Before the techs took him into treatment, Hughes looked down at Neal, who was still gripping Peter’s hand.
“You okay, son?”
Neal smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah – I’d say I never felt better, but I wouldn’t want you to call me a liar.”
Hughes grinned. “Good to have you back. Now let go of Peter’s hand so they can take care of you.”
Neal reluctantly relaxed his grip, and Peter was instantly chilled. He started to follow the gurney when Hughes held him back.
“You’ve got to let them take care of Neal. He’s in good hands.”
Peter could – he didn’t want to – explain what he was feeling, but Hughes seemed to understand.
“I know you don’t want to let him out of your sight – but he’ll be all right.”
Peter let his boss, his friend; lead him to a private corner of the waiting room.
“We need to talk.”
Peter nodded.
“I’m doing what I can to save your career – but it’s going to be difficult.” Reese’s voice was pitched low.
“I know.”
“You have my backing, and Bancroft knows what happened. I updated him when I was on my way here.”
“He knows everything?” Peter was shocked.
“Yes, he does. And he doesn’t think I’m crazy.”
Peter covered his face with his hands. The agitation caused by his separation from Neal was momentary overtaken by his concern about his future. “It is crazy – it’s insane what happened.”
“But it did. I saw you … before. The forensics supports it.”
“I …” Peter trailed off. He hadn’t realized that Hughes had been there.
“And we have it on video.”
Peter looked up at Hughes. “What?”
“Jones had the presence of mind to record it on his phone – Berrigan too. It’s really rather amazing.”
Peter looked out across the waiting room. He wasn’t sure what to think. His best team – his right and left hands saw him transform.
“How are we going to explain this? The brass won’t have such opened minds like Bancroft. Neal and I disappeared for a week. I can’t even begin to imagine the manhunt.”
“Yeah – it was enormous and impressive. Hundreds of man hours fruitlessly spent looking for you. Dogs and aerial searches that turned up nothing. And yet, here you are.”
Peter was surprised at Hughes’ rather blasé tone.
“What are you planning?”
Hughes looked at him. “Don’t ask too many questions, Peter.”
“Plausible deniability?”
Hughes didn’t say anything for a moment. “You are going to have to face a Review Board. Caffrey will too”
“That’s what worries me. I can’t just stick to the facts. The facts are rather unbelievable.”
“I know. But all you need to tell them is that you were taken – kidnapped. You never saw their faces, you never heard their voices. You were kept drugged for a week and then dumped back at your home. You don’t know why this happened.”
“What about Neal? How am I going to explain that Neal wasn’t returned until today – almost a week later?”
Hughes didn’t say anything, he just gave Peter a very pointed look. Ah, plausible deniability.
“Neal will be able to confirm your story.”
The light dawned and Peter just nodded. But he was still curious how everything was handled when he was running free with Neal in the forest. “How did you handle the Marshals?”
“With boxing gloves. They had a shoot-on-sight order for Caffrey.”
“What!”
“Crawley has never forgiven the two of you for the whole Deckard debacle. No one likes to have their house cleaned for them. The Service made it personal. We shut them down.”
“How?”
Hughes told Peter about Clinton’s behind the scenes maneuvering. “You really need to give that man his wings. He’s well past due for a promotion.”
“I know, I know. I just don’t want to lose him.”
“You don’t have to lose him, but keeping him in a surveillance van is not the way to keep him, either. Let him run his own ops – he’s got leadership potential.”
Peter wasn’t sure what to say – Clinton was his best agent, and he did deserve a promotion. This was something he’d have to deal with later, when he was less focused on Neal. He laughed to himself. If that was the case, Jones might be staying in the surveillance van until Peter himself retired.
They were interrupted when the ER staff called out for a relative of Neal Caffrey. Peter went and did the intake when a thought occurred to him. There really should be guards on Neal’s treatment room – even if just to keep up appearances.
Elizabeth arrived just as he was finishing up, she was sitting with Reese and they were deep in conversation. Happiness blossomed within him – watching her talk, her little hands making big gestures, smiling and nodding at Hughes’ comments. When she looked up and saw him, her smile got bigger, brighter. Elizabeth hadn’t had a lot to smile about lately – but now, Peter wanted to do everything he possibly could to keep that smile on her beautiful face.
He went and sat down next to her, she leaned in and rested her head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around him. Peter was tired – exhausted – and if his doctor saw him, she’d probably want to re-admit him. But he could rest now – Neal was home, he going to be fine.
Hughes got up.
“I’m putting a protective detail on Caffrey, and one on you.”
Peter started to object, but Hughes held up his hand to quiet him.
“You were kidnapped, remember – we don’t know who or why, or why you were returned relatively unharmed. So, we’re going to presume there’s still a danger to you, your family and to Mr. Caffrey.”
Peter was a little surprised at the carrying tone in Reese’s voice, but then he followed his line of sight. There was a man and a woman approaching, both sporting navy-blue windbreakers with “U.S. Marshal” stenciled on the back. He caught Hughes’ eye. It was time to tap-dance.
The older of the pair introduced himself first. “Agent Hughes, Agent Burke? I’m Michael Weatherby, this is my partner Sam Hollister. The other Marshal, a woman in her mid-thirties, nodded at them, and then acknowledged Elizabeth. “Ma’am.”
Peter kept his face carefully blank. Based on what Hughes had told him and his own prior experience with the Service, this could get ugly, quickly.
“Director Tomlinson asked us to come down and handle the matter.”
“You’re not from the New York office?”
“No, sir. We’re based out of Boston.”
“How did you know we were here?” Peter looked up at Hughes.
“I called it in to the Director. I knew he was following Caffrey’s case.”
Neither of the Marshals looked particularly aggravated or even interested in the matter. “May we?” Weatherby gestured at the seats.
Hughes pulled two chairs over and the Marshals sat down across from Peter and Elizabeth. “We understand that Caffrey is back in your custody. Can you tell us what happened?”
Peter grimaced. He was about to commit a felony, albeit one supported by his boss and his boss’ boss. “About an hour ago, someone rang my doorbell, when I answered it, I found Neal – he was dumped on my doorstep. There was no sign of anyone on the street.”
“What did you do?”
Peter kept is simple. “I brought him inside, my wife, Elizabeth called 911 and when the EMTs refused to let me ride with Neal, I handcuffed myself to him.” That last sentence was at least the truth.
“Why didn’t you show them your badge?”
“I didn’t have it.”
This seemed to puzzle the Marshals. “How did you lose your badge.”
Damn – more lies. “When we were taken, the kidnappers stripped me – stripped us. They took everything.”
Hughes interrupted. “The details of Agent Burke and Mr. Caffrey’s kidnapping are on file. Director Tomlinson can authorize you to review it. None of this is relevant now – we need to find who did this.”
Thankfully, the Marshals seemed to agree. Weatherby took a tracking anklet out a pocket, with a new key.
“I don’t think that’s necessary now.” Peter looked at the black plastic cuff with disgust.
The Marshals shrugged and Hollister spoke up for the first time. “If you do activate it, don’t forget to call it in. We know that Caffrey has less than four months to go – it would be a shame if he ran again.”
Weatherby stood up and gave Peter his card. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Peter was skeptical and that must have shown on his face.
“Not all of us were unhappy to hear what you did to Rick Deckard. He was a boil on the butt of the Service. Thank you.” Weatherby held out his hand, Peter shook it. Hollister did the same. Both nodded to Hughes and left.
Hughes didn’t say anything. You never knew who was listening.
The doctors poked and prodded at Neal, they stuck him with needles and probes and took his blood like gleeful vampires. By the time they finished, he had an IV and dozens of leads sprouting out of him. But Neal didn’t care – all he wanted was to see Peter.
And Elizabeth. As much as he needed to see Peter, he longed for Elizabeth. For her smile and her soft hands, her blue eyes and tart common sense. He ached for her and it surprised him.
The ER was busy – beds filled with patients were stacked all around, the nurses and medical personnel rushed about, the call system making announcements every few minutes. Neal thought he was going to go mad from the cacophony. Two young men in suits and sunglasses, completely out of place in this setting walked by then stopped.
“Mr. Caffrey?”
“Yes” He croaked – his vocal cords were dry from disuse. “Yeah – that’s me.”
“I’m Agent Silvers and this is Agent Morton – we’re your protective detail.”
Neal was puzzled. “My detail?”
“We don’t want someone to kidnap you again.” Agent Silvers smiled, he meant to be reassuring.
Kidnapping – that’s how they are going to play it. “Hmm…” Neal cleared his throat again. “Do you think that one of you could see if Agent Burke is in the waiting room? I need to see him.”
Silvers looked at his partner, who nodded and left. Neal thanked him.
It was a very long few minutes before Morton returned with Peter. His agitation, his anxiety began to fade away at the sight of Peter’s smile.
“Can you give us a little privacy?” Peter gave the two young agents a very pointed look. They didn’t go far, but it was far enough. Peter whisked the curtain closed.
Neal held out his hand, and Peter grasped it. He didn’t quite know what to say. “How are you?” That was easy.
Peter squeezed his hand. “Better – now.”
“How much do you remember?”
“I remember everything.”
Neal was overcome by the emotion in Peter’s voice and he couldn’t stop his own tears.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Peter wiped the tears away with the edge of his thumb.
“Sorry – I’m just…”
“It’s all right. I was the same – worse even.”
Neal leaned into Peter’s hand, and shocked them both when he pressed a kiss into his palm.
“I … I don’t know why I did that.” Neal burned in embarrassment.
Peter was about to say something when raised voices from the agents guarding Neal interrupted, and the curtain flew opened. Peter automatically took up a defensive position, apparently forgetting that there really was nothing to guard against – or he was just very good at playing the game.
Agent Morton had his gun out and Agent Silvers had his arm around a late middle-aged woman in a white coat with a metal clipboard.
“Gentlemen – get your hands off me.”
To Neal’s surprise, Peter told the other agents to stand down. “It’s okay – she’s a doctor. They have those here, oddly enough.”
The doctor was equally surprised. “Agent Burke – what are you doing here.” She looked at Neal – he gave her a weak grin, then back at Peter. “Ah – they found your partner.”
“Yeah – we got him back this morning, Dr. Stein.”
The doctor, who turned her focus back to Neal, cast a critical eye on him. “You look worse than your partner did when he came, Agent Caffrey.”
Neal was about to correct her, when Peter caught his eye and answered. “Being kidnapped does that to a person.”
“Kidnapped?” The doctor was shocked.
“It’s really not something we can discuss. Not here, not now.”
The doctor paused – Neal could see she had dozens of questions she wanted to ask him. “Agent Caffrey…”
Neal didn’t like the appellation. “Call me Neal, please.”
“Neal – are you up to answering some questions – or should I talk with Agent Burke.”
He looked at Peter, needing his approval for the boatload of lies he was about to deliver. Peter gave him a very slight nod.
“I don’t really know how much I can answer – I don’t really remember much.” Best to keep it simple.
“Why don’t we start with some of your medical history.”
He answered the doctor’s questions honestly, until she started with what had happened over the last two weeks. It wasn’t that hard to pretend fatigue. He was exhausted, and he let Peter answer as much as possible. When Peter explained that they had been drugged, the doctor pursed her lips and asked very quietly if he wanted to have a rape kit processed.
“No – no. I don’t think anything happened – not that.” Neal knew exactly what happened – that this was all a lie, but he felt shaky, upset.
She frowned. “There’s a limited time to obtain evidence – if you were drugged…”
“Doctor – believe me, I’d know.”
She shook her head, clearly troubled. “I’d like your permission, please.” Neal declined.
The doctor turned to Peter. “Were you drugged, too?”
Peter waves off her question. “It’s irrelevant now. How soon can you get Neal into a room?”
Neal reached out and took Peter’s hand, instantly grounding himself.
The doctor made some notes, opened his gown and saw the marks left by the Taser.
“What happened here?”
Neal kept his explanation simple as she flipped through his chart.
He had to ask. “How is my heart?”
Peter squeezed his hand.
“Your condition, overall, isn’t good. Like your partner, you are malnourished, your preliminary blood work is all over the place, and we’ll need to run more tests, but the EKG was normal. Your heart seems fine.
Neal closed his eyes in relief. It was hard to believe that a few hours ago he was lying on Peter’s floor, struggling for breath, waiting to die.
The doctor left and Peter closed the curtain. Agents Morton and Silvers were still standing guard.
Peter brushed his hand through Neal’s hair. “You should rest.”
“Yeah – but…” He didn’t want to close his eyes. He was afraid, that this was a dream, that he’d wake up alone, frightened, dying.
Peter tucked the blanket under his chin. “Close your eyes, Neal. I’ll be here.”
Peter watched as Neal obeyed his command. The ER was chaotic, and beyond the curtain were all the noises of a dozen emergencies. Monitors chiming and beeping and pinging, patients moaning in pain and fear, but Neal slept. Peter contemplated the miracle in front of him. Love. Something so simple, so essential – so perfect.
Even the short distance of time since his transformation has made it more dreamlike than reality. As he told Neal, he remembered everything, but the driving urgency, the pain; the fear was being supplanted by a sense of rightness, that no matter what, this is how it was supposed to be.
He didn’t know how long he stood at Neal’s bedside; his reverie was interrupted when he heard Elizabeth’s voice. Stepping out from behind the curtain, he waved her over. The two agents standing guard relaxed and let her through.
“How is he?”
Peter hugged her. “He’ll be all right.”
“How are you?”
“I’m … better. I’m good.” Peter looked at Elizabeth. Her beautiful face was marked with the strain of the past few days. “You?”
She smiled and a lot of the weariness eased. “Better, too, now. Everything will be fine.” She leaned against him, relaxing.
Neal moaned in his sleep and shifted his legs restlessly, but he didn’t wake. He tossed a bit, and Peter was suddenly, unreasonably anxious. He rested a hand on Neal’s shoulder and they both calmed down.
“That was interesting.”
Peter looked back at Elizabeth. She had a shrewd expression on her face. “What?”
“Neal quieted as soon as you touched him.”
“He wasn’t the only one?”
“What do you mean?”
“I got agitated too. When Neal relaxed, it went away.” Peter swallowed and closed his eyes, burying his face in the crown of her head.
El didn’t say anything. She wrapped her arms around Peter and held him close. He knew she was worried. He felt the same. The connection he had with Neal in the forest was back and as strong as it had been when they had been other creatures.
When they had been dogs.
Tags:
- character: elizabeth burke,
- character: neal caffrey,
- character: omc,
- character: peter burke,
- genre: hurt/comfort,
- genre: ot3,
- genre: transformation,
- kanarek13 warms my heart,
- pairing: peter/elizabeth/neal,
- type: fan fiction,
- type: timestamp,
- wc verse: we shall come home,
- written for: timestamp meme,
- year: 2014
