![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elrhiarhodanTitle: You Never Know What the Wind May Blow
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, Peter/Neal, Peter/Elizabeth
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~2000
Beta Credit:sinfulslasher
Summary: A prequel/alternative point of view to the events that precipitated the story in The Lost and Found. Neal gets Peter out of prison after the events at the end of In the Wind, but he can't save Peter's career, too. Peter takes to the road and Neal tries to pick up the shattered pieces of his life.
A/N: Written fordoctor_fangeek, who asked for the prompt "Four miles outside of town, the highway ends" with the focus on Neal (with a context of Peter/Neal or P/E/N), for the eighth night of Fic-Can-Ukah. Like yesterday, this technically is not late, because the holiday runs from sundown to sundown, so until 4:29 PM, it's still the Eighth Night of Chanukah.
Title from the Oysterband song, The Lost and Found.
__________________
It's been four months since he's seen Peter. Four months since he held the man he loves and been cradled in those strong arms. Four long months. A season. It feels like a year. A decade. A damn lifetime.
Neal understands Peter's need to run. After all, he's run more times than he wants to count. But Peter's always brought him back. Every single time.
But Neal's powerless to bring Peter home. He's shackled to a two mile radius and a contract with the FBI.
Diana and Clinton are decent people, friends, too – but they are not Peter. They never will be. They don't challenge him to be better; they simply expect him to do what they asked and nothing more. He is, after all, a criminal consultant. With the emphasis on criminal.
Nor do they trust him. Any why should they? It's not like he hasn't screwed them over before. Screwed Peter over. Peter wouldn't have spent six weeks in prison if it wasn't for him. Peter wouldn't have gained his freedom and been forced to resign if it wasn't for him.
Peter wouldn't have taken off with barely a word; Peter wouldn't have lost the life he loved, left behind the wife he loved, if it wasn't for him and his own screw-ups.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Elizabeth commands him to save Peter and save Peter's career, but he fails in his quest. Neal realizes that he can't do both in any way that wouldn't destroy the fragile trust they've worked so hard to build. For Neal, it is more important to get Peter out of jail alive and healthy and sane than to ensure that he keeps his badge.
Neal doesn't even consider that if Peter loses his job, he might go back to jail. His future doesn't factor into any equation.
There's a Grand Jury hearing and despite the push by the Federal prosecutor, the panel refuses to indict. Peter walks away a free man. But a man without a badge. The brass makes it clear that Peter's career is over – at least in New York. They've got a slot for him in a Resident Agency Office in the Tri-Cities area, out in central Washington State. Or he could retire.
Peter takes retirement, but he does not go willingly into that good night – he has conditions of his own. Neal doesn't know what leverage he has, what favors he calls in, but he makes sure that Neal's contract with the FBI isn't contingent upon his own standing. Peter passes the leash to Diana and Clinton, jokes that they now have joint custody of him, packs up his desk and walks out the door.
Neal doesn't expect to see Peter that first night, nor the second night, and he doesn't. Peter shows up on the third night and Neal is afraid. He doesn’t expect to sleep in Peter's arms, to be held and loved and cherished ever again. He expects to be hated for everything that he's cost this man. But Peter doesn't blame him; Peter has no regrets and assures him that he wouldn't change a thing.
Neal sleeps without nightmares for the first time in over a month. But that is the last time he sees Peter for a while. They talk every day, but Peter stays close to home, close to Elizabeth who needs him so badly.
He goes to work that first week after Peter "retired" and that sets the pattern for the rest of his days with the FBI. He does as he's asked, nothing more, nothing less. Neal doesn’t try to be brilliant because Peter isn't there to be impressed. The new ASAC – a definite improvement over Calloway – finds him useful, but they soon have a conversation about leeway and latitude and the lack thereof. Mitchell Feingold knows how useful CIs are, but he also knows that Neal Caffrey is an agent of chaos and directly responsible for the downfall of his predecessor. Feingold has no intention of covering for him. He agrees to let Clinton and Diana jointly handle him, but he makes it clear that if Neal steps over the line, he'll be back inside quicker than he can say "Morrissey Hearing."
Friday afternoon, Neal gets a text from Peter - Dinner tonight, Brooklyn. Bring the wine. Something to go with poultry.
That is a familiar request, but one he hasn't gotten for far too long. Neal happily stops at a wine shop to pick up a nice Zinfandel that will go with those little hens that he loves so much.
Neal rings the bell and Elizabeth greets him. He can see the strain around her eyes and in the deep lines that bracket her mouth. She's not happy to see him, but she's gracious as she lets him in. Or maybe her coolness is in his imagination. Elizabeth reaches up and hugs him, clinging for a minute, a lifetime. Neal finds himself hoping that maybe they've reached a turning point, maybe they can get back everything they've lost.
Peter comes out and hugs him and Neal trembles.
Dinner is an awkward affair. They talk about things but they're not really talking about anything. Peter doesn't ask about the office, about work, and Neal doesn't volunteer any information, either. He wonders if Peter's job hunting, but he's too afraid to ask. It makes everything seem all that much more real.
And Neal can't shake the feeling that Elizabeth's angry – but not at him. She's barely looked at her husband all night. In fact, she excuses herself rather abruptly and all but runs upstairs when Neal offers to do the dishes.
Peter tells him to leave everything and come outside. Neal takes his wine glass and wishes it was filled with vodka. His own gut is churning.
They sit facing each other, but Neal can't read Peter's face. It's as if he's being kissed by shadows. "What's going on?"
"I'm going away."
Neal's not sure he's heard correctly. "Going away?"
Peter nods.
"Job interview?"
"No. I'm – " Peter frowns and looks up at the sky. "I'm restless. I need to go away for a while."
Neal doesn't like the sound of this, but he pastes a smile on his face. "So, a cruise, maybe? Take Elizabeth someplace wonderful. The Maldives are beautiful this time of year, any time of year."
"No, I'm going away. Alone. I need some time."
Neal doesn't know what to say, so he says nothing.
"I've bought a motorcycle."
That startles him out of his silence. "What?"
"You heard me."
"You don't ride motorcycles, Peter. You drive a government-issue Ford Taurus."
"No, Neal. I did drive a government-issue Ford Taurus. Not anymore."
"Sorry." I'm sorry for everything, for every damned thing I've taken from you.
"It's okay."
Neal knows it's not okay. It will never be okay. No matter how many times Peter absolves him of his crimes. "So, a motorcycle? Really?"
"A Harley. Nothing fancy."
"Where are you going to go?"
Peter shrugs. "I don't know. Wherever the road takes me."
"How long will you be gone?"
Peter shrugs again. "Not sure. I'll come home when I'm ready to."
Neal wants to cry. "This – this isn't you, Peter. You don't run. You stick. You stay. You do what's right."
"I have to, Neal. I thought, of all the people in my life, you'd understand."
"You can't do this to Elizabeth. She needs you. You've just spent six weeks in prison, and now you're going away?" Neal stands up so abruptly, the chair falls over.
"I have to, Neal. El understands. And I need you to be there for her. There's no one else I trust."
Neal doesn't sit. He doesn't stay. He doesn't leave, though. He goes up to the Burkes' bedroom and finds Elizabeth curled up in the big chair next to the window and kneels before her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. For all the crap I've brought into your life. For this."
She reaches out and touches his cheek. "I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry for the burden I placed on you. I asked the impossible."
Neal rests his head in her lap. "I want to kill him."
"Me too, but I've got to let him do this." Elizabeth strokes his hair. "Stay, tonight. Stay with us. Maybe if we can show Peter just what he'll be leaving behind, he'll change his mind."
Neal isn't sure if Elizabeth believes her own words, but he agrees. They've never shared a bed before, not the three of them. Neal doesn't think that anything more than comfort will happen tonight.
Elizabeth doesn't seem to have any modesty – she undresses in front of him and laughs when he tries to look away. "It's okay."
He feels awkward, like a twelve year old boy, or like he's going through in-processing at a penal facility when he undresses. But Elizabeth takes his suit and clothes and hangs them up. She treats this night as if it were ordinary, as if they'd been sharing a bedroom as well as a man for the past three years.
They curl up in bed together and it almost feels natural. Elizabeth rests her head on his shoulder after turning off the light. In the darkness, they talk – really talk – for the first time since Terrance Pratt was killed.
There are no apologies, though. They've been given and accepted. Neal hopes that he won't have to do as Peter's asked, but he will and with joy, because Elizabeth is as dear to him as Peter.
Between one word and the next, Elizabeth falls asleep. But Neal can't. He's waiting for Peter, waiting to be held. To be tossed out. To have one more chance.
And Peter does join them. Nothing is said and Neal slides out of bed so Peter can sleep between them; so he can be held by both his wife and his lover. Neal tries to stay awake but exhaustion claims him.
When he wakes, Peter is gone.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The texts come without any regularity. Sometime Peter leaves a message for Elizabeth, sometimes he leaves one for Neal. But days go between communications.
Neal's not without his resources, though. Mozzie's got connections and mad skills of his own. He can pinpoint Peter's location from his infrequent messages. Neal has a map in his apartment of Peter's known route. He's been heading west and Neal can't help but envy him. New vistas every day, new skylines, new sunrises and sunsets. New cities to explore. Neal resents the tracker and his contract. He wants to be on the road, exploring the world.
But he can't. He can only imagine. Every time he gets a text, Moz gives him a coordinate and Neal looks it up on Google maps. He's constructed a route and flies along with Peter through states he's never wanted to visit, at least not until now.
Elizabeth shares this virtual journey with him, but sitting together on the couch in his apartment is as intimate as they get. He can't visit her anymore, though. The Monday after Peter starts his journey, Diana pulls him aside and apologetically reads the riot act to him. Since Peter isn't his handler anymore, nor even an FBI agent, the once approved corridor between his apartment and Brooklyn has been revoked. The new boss is pulling up his tracking data and wants to know what is going on between the CI and the former FBI agent.
Diana knows about his relationship with Peter, but she's always been discreet. She tells Neal that this is the only time she's going to cover for him and if he doesn't want to end up in prison, he needs to stick to his radius.
Neal is filled with grief. This warning drives home everything that he's lost.
The months pass and Neal pretends that his life hasn't been ripped to shreds. He comforts Elizabeth, and takes what love and comfort she can spare for him. He survives, but it feels like he's been abandoned a few miles outside of town, left to fend for himself where the highway ends, where the road turns to dust and there's no one to help him find his way home.
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke, Peter/Neal, Peter/Elizabeth
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~2000
Beta Credit:
sinfulslasher Summary: A prequel/alternative point of view to the events that precipitated the story in The Lost and Found. Neal gets Peter out of prison after the events at the end of In the Wind, but he can't save Peter's career, too. Peter takes to the road and Neal tries to pick up the shattered pieces of his life.
A/N: Written for
doctor_fangeek, who asked for the prompt "Four miles outside of town, the highway ends" with the focus on Neal (with a context of Peter/Neal or P/E/N), for the eighth night of Fic-Can-Ukah. Like yesterday, this technically is not late, because the holiday runs from sundown to sundown, so until 4:29 PM, it's still the Eighth Night of Chanukah. Title from the Oysterband song, The Lost and Found.
It's been four months since he's seen Peter. Four months since he held the man he loves and been cradled in those strong arms. Four long months. A season. It feels like a year. A decade. A damn lifetime.
Neal understands Peter's need to run. After all, he's run more times than he wants to count. But Peter's always brought him back. Every single time.
But Neal's powerless to bring Peter home. He's shackled to a two mile radius and a contract with the FBI.
Diana and Clinton are decent people, friends, too – but they are not Peter. They never will be. They don't challenge him to be better; they simply expect him to do what they asked and nothing more. He is, after all, a criminal consultant. With the emphasis on criminal.
Nor do they trust him. Any why should they? It's not like he hasn't screwed them over before. Screwed Peter over. Peter wouldn't have spent six weeks in prison if it wasn't for him. Peter wouldn't have gained his freedom and been forced to resign if it wasn't for him.
Peter wouldn't have taken off with barely a word; Peter wouldn't have lost the life he loved, left behind the wife he loved, if it wasn't for him and his own screw-ups.
Elizabeth commands him to save Peter and save Peter's career, but he fails in his quest. Neal realizes that he can't do both in any way that wouldn't destroy the fragile trust they've worked so hard to build. For Neal, it is more important to get Peter out of jail alive and healthy and sane than to ensure that he keeps his badge.
Neal doesn't even consider that if Peter loses his job, he might go back to jail. His future doesn't factor into any equation.
There's a Grand Jury hearing and despite the push by the Federal prosecutor, the panel refuses to indict. Peter walks away a free man. But a man without a badge. The brass makes it clear that Peter's career is over – at least in New York. They've got a slot for him in a Resident Agency Office in the Tri-Cities area, out in central Washington State. Or he could retire.
Peter takes retirement, but he does not go willingly into that good night – he has conditions of his own. Neal doesn't know what leverage he has, what favors he calls in, but he makes sure that Neal's contract with the FBI isn't contingent upon his own standing. Peter passes the leash to Diana and Clinton, jokes that they now have joint custody of him, packs up his desk and walks out the door.
Neal doesn't expect to see Peter that first night, nor the second night, and he doesn't. Peter shows up on the third night and Neal is afraid. He doesn’t expect to sleep in Peter's arms, to be held and loved and cherished ever again. He expects to be hated for everything that he's cost this man. But Peter doesn't blame him; Peter has no regrets and assures him that he wouldn't change a thing.
Neal sleeps without nightmares for the first time in over a month. But that is the last time he sees Peter for a while. They talk every day, but Peter stays close to home, close to Elizabeth who needs him so badly.
He goes to work that first week after Peter "retired" and that sets the pattern for the rest of his days with the FBI. He does as he's asked, nothing more, nothing less. Neal doesn’t try to be brilliant because Peter isn't there to be impressed. The new ASAC – a definite improvement over Calloway – finds him useful, but they soon have a conversation about leeway and latitude and the lack thereof. Mitchell Feingold knows how useful CIs are, but he also knows that Neal Caffrey is an agent of chaos and directly responsible for the downfall of his predecessor. Feingold has no intention of covering for him. He agrees to let Clinton and Diana jointly handle him, but he makes it clear that if Neal steps over the line, he'll be back inside quicker than he can say "Morrissey Hearing."
Friday afternoon, Neal gets a text from Peter - Dinner tonight, Brooklyn. Bring the wine. Something to go with poultry.
That is a familiar request, but one he hasn't gotten for far too long. Neal happily stops at a wine shop to pick up a nice Zinfandel that will go with those little hens that he loves so much.
Neal rings the bell and Elizabeth greets him. He can see the strain around her eyes and in the deep lines that bracket her mouth. She's not happy to see him, but she's gracious as she lets him in. Or maybe her coolness is in his imagination. Elizabeth reaches up and hugs him, clinging for a minute, a lifetime. Neal finds himself hoping that maybe they've reached a turning point, maybe they can get back everything they've lost.
Peter comes out and hugs him and Neal trembles.
Dinner is an awkward affair. They talk about things but they're not really talking about anything. Peter doesn't ask about the office, about work, and Neal doesn't volunteer any information, either. He wonders if Peter's job hunting, but he's too afraid to ask. It makes everything seem all that much more real.
And Neal can't shake the feeling that Elizabeth's angry – but not at him. She's barely looked at her husband all night. In fact, she excuses herself rather abruptly and all but runs upstairs when Neal offers to do the dishes.
Peter tells him to leave everything and come outside. Neal takes his wine glass and wishes it was filled with vodka. His own gut is churning.
They sit facing each other, but Neal can't read Peter's face. It's as if he's being kissed by shadows. "What's going on?"
"I'm going away."
Neal's not sure he's heard correctly. "Going away?"
Peter nods.
"Job interview?"
"No. I'm – " Peter frowns and looks up at the sky. "I'm restless. I need to go away for a while."
Neal doesn't like the sound of this, but he pastes a smile on his face. "So, a cruise, maybe? Take Elizabeth someplace wonderful. The Maldives are beautiful this time of year, any time of year."
"No, I'm going away. Alone. I need some time."
Neal doesn't know what to say, so he says nothing.
"I've bought a motorcycle."
That startles him out of his silence. "What?"
"You heard me."
"You don't ride motorcycles, Peter. You drive a government-issue Ford Taurus."
"No, Neal. I did drive a government-issue Ford Taurus. Not anymore."
"Sorry." I'm sorry for everything, for every damned thing I've taken from you.
"It's okay."
Neal knows it's not okay. It will never be okay. No matter how many times Peter absolves him of his crimes. "So, a motorcycle? Really?"
"A Harley. Nothing fancy."
"Where are you going to go?"
Peter shrugs. "I don't know. Wherever the road takes me."
"How long will you be gone?"
Peter shrugs again. "Not sure. I'll come home when I'm ready to."
Neal wants to cry. "This – this isn't you, Peter. You don't run. You stick. You stay. You do what's right."
"I have to, Neal. I thought, of all the people in my life, you'd understand."
"You can't do this to Elizabeth. She needs you. You've just spent six weeks in prison, and now you're going away?" Neal stands up so abruptly, the chair falls over.
"I have to, Neal. El understands. And I need you to be there for her. There's no one else I trust."
Neal doesn't sit. He doesn't stay. He doesn't leave, though. He goes up to the Burkes' bedroom and finds Elizabeth curled up in the big chair next to the window and kneels before her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. For all the crap I've brought into your life. For this."
She reaches out and touches his cheek. "I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry for the burden I placed on you. I asked the impossible."
Neal rests his head in her lap. "I want to kill him."
"Me too, but I've got to let him do this." Elizabeth strokes his hair. "Stay, tonight. Stay with us. Maybe if we can show Peter just what he'll be leaving behind, he'll change his mind."
Neal isn't sure if Elizabeth believes her own words, but he agrees. They've never shared a bed before, not the three of them. Neal doesn't think that anything more than comfort will happen tonight.
Elizabeth doesn't seem to have any modesty – she undresses in front of him and laughs when he tries to look away. "It's okay."
He feels awkward, like a twelve year old boy, or like he's going through in-processing at a penal facility when he undresses. But Elizabeth takes his suit and clothes and hangs them up. She treats this night as if it were ordinary, as if they'd been sharing a bedroom as well as a man for the past three years.
They curl up in bed together and it almost feels natural. Elizabeth rests her head on his shoulder after turning off the light. In the darkness, they talk – really talk – for the first time since Terrance Pratt was killed.
There are no apologies, though. They've been given and accepted. Neal hopes that he won't have to do as Peter's asked, but he will and with joy, because Elizabeth is as dear to him as Peter.
Between one word and the next, Elizabeth falls asleep. But Neal can't. He's waiting for Peter, waiting to be held. To be tossed out. To have one more chance.
And Peter does join them. Nothing is said and Neal slides out of bed so Peter can sleep between them; so he can be held by both his wife and his lover. Neal tries to stay awake but exhaustion claims him.
When he wakes, Peter is gone.
The texts come without any regularity. Sometime Peter leaves a message for Elizabeth, sometimes he leaves one for Neal. But days go between communications.
Neal's not without his resources, though. Mozzie's got connections and mad skills of his own. He can pinpoint Peter's location from his infrequent messages. Neal has a map in his apartment of Peter's known route. He's been heading west and Neal can't help but envy him. New vistas every day, new skylines, new sunrises and sunsets. New cities to explore. Neal resents the tracker and his contract. He wants to be on the road, exploring the world.
But he can't. He can only imagine. Every time he gets a text, Moz gives him a coordinate and Neal looks it up on Google maps. He's constructed a route and flies along with Peter through states he's never wanted to visit, at least not until now.
Elizabeth shares this virtual journey with him, but sitting together on the couch in his apartment is as intimate as they get. He can't visit her anymore, though. The Monday after Peter starts his journey, Diana pulls him aside and apologetically reads the riot act to him. Since Peter isn't his handler anymore, nor even an FBI agent, the once approved corridor between his apartment and Brooklyn has been revoked. The new boss is pulling up his tracking data and wants to know what is going on between the CI and the former FBI agent.
Diana knows about his relationship with Peter, but she's always been discreet. She tells Neal that this is the only time she's going to cover for him and if he doesn't want to end up in prison, he needs to stick to his radius.
Neal is filled with grief. This warning drives home everything that he's lost.
The months pass and Neal pretends that his life hasn't been ripped to shreds. He comforts Elizabeth, and takes what love and comfort she can spare for him. He survives, but it feels like he's been abandoned a few miles outside of town, left to fend for himself where the highway ends, where the road turns to dust and there's no one to help him find his way home.
Tags:
- character: elizabeth burke,
- character: neal caffrey,
- character: peter burke,
- genre: alternative universe,
- genre: angst,
- genre: emotional trauma,
- genre: episode tag,
- genre: het,
- genre: hurt/comfort,
- genre: pre-ot3,
- genre: slash,
- genre: ust,
- pairing: peter/elizabeth,
- pairing: peter/neal,
- type: fan fiction,
- white collar,
- written for: fic-can-ukah,
- year: 2014
