Title: Return and Rebuild the Desolate Places – Epilogue
Author: elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke, Mozzie, Reese Hughes, Clinton Jones, Diana Berrigan, Olivia Benson (L&O: SVU), Section Chief Bruce (McKinsey) Original Characters
Spoilers: White Collar, all of Season 5; no specific spoilers for L&O: SVU, but set in Season 15. No spoilers for Season 6, A/U from S5 finale forward.
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Kidnapping, torture (off-camera), rape (off-camera),
Word Count: This chapter – ~ 1400 / ~90,000
Beta Credit: sinfulslasher
Story Summary: Six months after Neal disappears, Peter still has no answers and his decision not to go to Washington has had significant repercussions for both his career and his marriage.
Chapter Summary: Happiness is not so elusive, not when you have your family around you.

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Previous Chapters: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four | Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six | Chapter Twenty-Seven | Chapter Twenty-Eight | Chapter Twenty-Nine | Chapter Thirty

A/N: Title from Alan Hovhaness’ wind concerto, which takes it from the Old Testament.


Art by kanarek13



Sometime in Early August – A Tuesday Evening, Two Years in the Future

It was about ten minutes to five, and the gallery was almost empty. The guard was giving him the stink-eye but until the final chimes sounded, Neal didn't have to give up his seat on the bench.

Besides, Natalie was really enjoying his story.

"The evil vizier had commanded the prince to return what he'd taken, but the prince refused. He knew that the vizier was trying to trap him."

Natalie babbled and patted at his cheeks.

"The dragon and all of his friends came to the prince's rescue and help him defeat the evil vizier, who wanted to put the prince into the most horrible servitude. He wanted to hurt the dragon, too."

Natalie blew a raspberry at him. He blew one back and she giggled.

"Look at the picture, sweetie. There's the good dragon and the evil vizier." Neal turned the toddler so she could see the Raphael that nearly cost him so much. But Natalie wasn't interested in the art; she clearly wanted more of the story from Uncle Neal.

He continued with the silliness, but their time was running out. The gallery lights blinked and the chimes sounded, signaling the end of visiting hours. But Neal didn't move from the bench.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the guard approach, but he also heard footsteps – the almost metallic ping of high heels on marble floor – quickly approaching. They were followed by a heavier tread.

Neal breathed a sigh of relief. And Natalie squealed as she saw her mommy and daddy.

Peter reached for his daughter and apologized. "Sorry we took so long."

Neal grinned and noted the slightly disheveled state of Peter's attire, and the beginnings of an oval bruise on his collarbone. Elizabeth was placating the guard and Neal smiled to himself. The button over the zipper on the back of her skirt was undone and she wasn't wearing the jewelry she had on when she'd left the house this morning.

He'd wondered if Peter and Elizabeth were going to be having a little hotel-room nookie when they'd asked him to babysit, but discarded the notion when Peter mentioned that they were seeing their accountant in D.C. and suggested that they meet up here, if Neal wanted to.

It looked like they had had the time to review their quarterly tax returns and enjoy some afternoon delight.

"There's my big girl!" Peter got that silly, mushy expression that he always wore when he was with his daughter. It made Neal's heart hurt to see it, but in the very best way.

"We've got to scram; they're about to close the gates." Elizabeth joined them, took the baby from Peter and tucked her into the stroller. "My employee credentials aren't, apparently, an all-access pass."

As the four of them left the gallery, Neal could hear the clanking of the gates all over the museum start to descend. There was a time when he'd have given his left nut to watch the National Gallery's security procedures in action. He could still summon some level of academic interest, but he had to be honest with himself. Being Natalie Burke's godparent consumed most of his energy.

The heat was oppressive – Washington in the summer was a swamp, literally – and they were limp by the time they got to the Metro station at the National Archives. Neal said a prayer of thanks to the architects of the city subway system. It might be tiny compared to New York's, but it was modern and clean, and best of all, air conditioned.

"You're doing okay?" Peter asked as they stood on the platform, waiting for the first of three trains that would take them back to Maryland.

"Doing fine. I've spent my day with my best girl, had a picnic lunch on the Mall, and looked at great art. How could I not be fine?"

Peter gave him that look. The one that never failed to frustrate him – like he knew a secret and he wasn't going to share it.

"What?"

"You know, I think you are fine."

Neal laughed. "And so are you, Mr. Burke." It had taken him a while to get accustomed to not using 'Agent Burke'. "I bet Mrs. Burke thinks you're very fine, too. Have fun at the accountant's office?" He patted Peter on the shoulder and fixed his collar.

Even in the Metro station's dim light, he could see Peter's cheeks darken.

"You're incorrigible, Neal."

He just stuck his hands in his pockets and chuckled. The sound must have caught El's attention, because she looked up from Natalie, who was getting fussy and fidgeting. "What's so funny?"

It was good to tease Peter, but he wasn't going to embarrass Elizabeth. "Nothing, just whining in my head about the heat. I'm glad that unlike you, I don't have to do this every day." Three months after giving birth, Elizabeth got her job back at the National Gallery.

She wiped the perspiration off the back of her neck and muttered. "I love my job. I really love my job."

"Especially in August, when it's 103 in the shade?"

"Did you have to remind me of that?" Natalie started crying and reaching for her mommy. "Shh, sweetie. It's too hot for me to carry you. "

Thankfully, the train wasn't packed and the three adults rode in grateful silence until they had to change trains. Neal positioned himself against the door to make sure that Peter and Elizabeth got the baby stroller out without anyone blocking their exit. It was funny, but as commuters went, New Yorkers were a much more polite and considerate breed that Washingtonians, who would trample their grandmothers to get a seat.

They finally made it to the last stop on the Red Line, where Elizabeth had parked. It was still an hour's drive home through Beltway traffic. Elizabeth sat in the back and fell asleep next to her daughter. Peter seemed disinclined to chat, so Neal used the opportunity to relax.

Of course, now that he could, it was difficult to stop his brain. He sighed.

"What's the matter?" Peter kept his eyes on the road. Not that they were moving. Rush hour on the Beltway was a hundred times worse than anything on the Henry Hudson.

"Nothing. Just …"

"Just what?"

"Just thinking."

"Good thoughts?"

"Mostly."

"Want to share?"

"I got rid of the last of the Ativan this morning." He'd actually never taken a single pill, but had been carrying the bottle around like a security blanket. The only time he'd come close to needing to take one was when he'd testified against Cowboy Boots and The Slav back in New York, but that had been it. Over the past few months, he'd been disposing of the pills, one by one, putting them into empty laundry detergent bottles that were bound for recycling. It was a lot safer than flushing them.

"How does it feel?"

"Freeing, but I also feel a little … I don't know … vulnerable, too. But I thought today would be a good day to make that break."

"Because no matter how bad things got in your head, you knew you needed to stay strong for my daughter?"

"Yeah. You trust me to take care of her. And I don't need that security blanket anymore."

Peter reached over and touched Neal's wrist. "You still have this one."

"And I'll always have it." He couldn't imagine a life where Peter couldn't find him.

"Tell me, is Moz still giving you grief about it?"

"Last time I saw him, he took one look at it, gave me a very dirty look and never said a word."

"He told Elizabeth he might stop by this weekend."

Neal laughed. "I think he talks to your wife more than he talks to me these days."

"Do you mind?" Peter seemed genuinely concerned.

Neal thought about the question before answering. "No, not really. I love Moz, but our interests are different now. We're not the same people we once were, and we won't pretend that we are. I have the life I want. Moz has – I think – reconciled himself to that."

"You're happy?"

They passed a crowded exit and picked up a little speed. The world outside the car was lush and green and the sun sparkled against the road.

Neal leaned back against the seat, smiled, and said, "Yes, I am."



FIN