After Point Blank, I needed some resolve... I couldn't just wait for January. And so, this one-shot... Thanks for reading.
Please be aware that I own nothing of White Collar - and that there are spoilers in here for the season finale.
Neal's expression abruptly changed from defiance to fear, and the words spilled out a bit more quickly than he expected. "I wasn't there alone".
Agent Burke felt a familiar tingle as his brain shifted into overdrive. "Mozzie?"
"Yeah. He –"
Ignoring him, Peter turned to Diane. "Have headquarters post a guard outside this room." He glanced sideways at Neal, who rolled his eyes. "In fact, have them post someone in here. House arrest." His eyes were cold as he holstered his weapon, shaking his head at the criminal he had thought he was beginning to understand. "I don't trust him not to bolt. Again."
"Hey –" Neal stopped abruptly as Peter turned, every inch the Federal agent. There was ice in his expression, and it hurt Neal to see it. "Let me help. You won't know where to look."
"Don't be too sure."
"Come on! This is Moz we're talking about…"
Peter took a step forward. Anyone else would have stepped back in the force of that expression, but Neal held his ground as the agent growled quietly in his face. "You think I don't keep an eye on him? But if you know something, you better tell me where to look."
"Let me come–"
"No." The word dropped like a brick between them. "Tell me where to look."
Neal smiled, falling back on a charm offensive. "Peter –"
The charm failed miserably. "Just tell me. Or have you decided to betray him, too?"
Neal's eyes widened. Suddenly, he looked quite a bit younger, and fear flashed in blue eyes. For the life of him he wasn't sure what scared him more – Peter's anger or worry for Mozzie's life. "I didn't betray you. I- I just needed to know."
"You scammed me. Made me look like an idiot at my own job. What do you think that is?" Neal opened and closed his mouth, but nothing came out. "We don't have time for this. I've got to find Moz before someone kills him." Peter swept out the door, leaving Neal staring after him.
Diane sighed, shook her head, and pulled out her cell phone as she closed the door. "Berrigan here. We need a guard for Caffrey. At the house. Okay."
"Diane…"
"Don't talk to me, Neal. Just… don't." She slipped her phone back into her pocket and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms.
"I did what I had to do."
"Bullshit."
"Look, you don't know –"
Her dark eyes flashed as she turned them on him, stepping toward him and flipping her long hair back over her shoulder angrily. "Listen. All I know is that Peter Burke is the best agent I know. The best man I know. And you hung around here, making plans and making nice and pretending until he trusted you – and then you used it against him." She stared for a moment before dismissing him with a glance, leaning back against the wall and staring out toward the darkening windows. "Pack of lies. Just a pack of lies. And I fell for it too. Because he did."
Neal lifted his hands against her tirade without realizing it. Flustered, he blurted out, "I wasn't playing anyone, Diana. It wasn't all a lie."
Her eyes rolled toward him, and he marveled as she suddenly became calm, as he had so often seen Peter react when emotions were getting the best of him during a case. Her voice was now quite flat, although slightly sarcastic. "Not all a lie. How... reassuring."
He stared at her for a long minute. "You're just going to stand there?"
Her eyes locked his in a stony gaze. "Only until my relief gets here."
Caffrey stared at her for another moment, then shook his head and pulled out his phone, hitting a number on the speed dial. He waited impatiently for the beep. "Peter, Moz usually goes to the diner across from the park on Sundays – there's a waitress who might have seen him." He paused, his expression changing, opened his mouth as if he were going to say something else, then shook his head and snapped his phone shut. "What's the use."
Peter listened to the message and swore softly, maneuvering the car in a tight turn back the way he had come, then cutting down Fifth toward the park. He remembered the diner. Moz had met them there, once. The agent took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Dammit, the eccentric little con man had grown on him. Once he talked to the diner staff, he'd have to start checking the hospitals … and the morgue.
Right now he had slow traffic, too many feelings, and nowhere to put them. Shaking his head, he punched a button on the phone as he made his way uptown. A warmingly familiar voice answered.
"Hello?"
"El? It's me. Got a minute?"
"For you?" He could hear the smile in her voice from across the city. "Anytime, handsome." Her voice shifted gently, more concerned. "What's going on?"
Three hours later Peter pulled into his driveway, having made the long drive largely by instinct. Yes, the cashier at the diner had seen Moz, he'd bought a tea to go and walked across the street after polite small talk. It sounded like he had to meet someone. No, they hadn't seen what happened to him, things got busy and they weren't watching. Peter had crossed the street and found blood on a bench. A distressing amount of blood, actually, and fresh. He had called forensics and then put his team on hospital watch… and if he didn't get a shower and a little rest, he wouldn't be any good to anyone. He walked into his home, bone weary, and Elizabeth embraced him with concern.
"Anything?"
"Nothing yet. But then, it's Moz."
"I was thinking that. He wouldn't be carrying ID."
"Right."
She rubbed her hand up his arm, a tight smile trying to reassure him as she spoke softly. "I'm sure he'll turn up, Peter."
He gave her a rueful grin. "Dead or alive?" Her eyes teared up at that, and he hugged her hard. "Sorry, sweetheart. It's just…"
"I know." She looked uncomfortable, but went on. "There's someone here to see you –"
They looked into each other's eyes. His, puzzled, hers, projecting a plea for calm reason. Suddenly his head tipped as his shoulders dropped. "No. He can't be here."
"Jones brought him. Just talk to him."
"Jones? Why the hell –" His arm lifted of its own volition, pointing toward the living room where he assumed Neal would be waiting. "Elizabeth, he took advantage of me. Played me for a fool."
Her voice was a bare whisper, couched in a sad smile. "He's just a kid, Peter." Her eyes were full of compassion as she looked at her husband. Compassion for him, and compassion for their young friend. "You said that once."
Peter dropped his outstretched arm and stared at her. They had discussed in the past how difficult Neal's upbringing must have been. How he pretty much brought himself up, taught himself how to survive, learned how to con and steal… but not how to trust. You need someone else to learn that. Someone who would be there no matter what… and for many long years, there had been no one else. In some ways, Neal was no more than a troubled adolescent.
"El… He played me. Probably from the beginning. I'm just a shill to him. I'm just another pawn in the great chess game of Neal Caffrey." Elizabeth looked at him, rested her head on his chest, and they stood together for a moment until they heard a voice at the kitchen door.
"No, you're not." A rather bedraggled looking con man stood there, hesitant and unsure. His eyes, normally so bright, were faded like a stormy sky as he looked at the man who had become more than a mentor to him. He shook his head. "Peter. I'm -"
The agent cut him off harshly. "Not now." Peter took El's hand, and they spoke without words. When he looked back to Caffrey, his voice was deceptively calm. "I can't listen to you. Not now." He gave El's hand a squeeze before releasing it, then turned and walked upstairs without another word.
"Peter..." The younger man called up the stairs and stopped, defeat washing over him. He lifted his arms in a shrug, and dropped them helplessly to his sides. "He's never going to forgive me."
Elizabeth watched him carefully, her voice level. "Do you want him to?"
"Do I want him to?" He looked at her, and his eyes grew wide once more. "What do you think? You- you don't believe me either? Of course. Neither of you will ever forgive me. You both think I'm just…" He turned and walked into the living room, dropping into a chair with an unusual lack of grace. "Just a con man. Just a crook." He put his hands over his face, and she could see him struggling to keep his composure. "I'm going back to prison, aren't I."
Her head dropped to one side as she considered him. "What do you expect?" She took a seat across from him and waited. He didn't say anything, and she took a deep breath. "Neal. Why didn't you just tell him what you wanted to do? Why did you have to pull this elaborate con?"
His voice was muffled under his hands. "Because I needed to know. And it wasn't exactly legal." Her laugh made him drop his hands to look at her, and she could see his eyes were wet.
"Right. 'Cause the FBI follows all the rules." She stood and walked into the kitchen, returning with her coffee mug and a glass of water for Neal. "Here." He nodded thanks, and she stood over him. "I think you just fell back into old patterns. You were scared, and you decided not to trust him. It isn't fair, Neal. When all he's ever done is try to keep you on track, and help you find out whatever he could about Kate. Do you have any idea how many evenings he was researching? Meeting with Diana? Honestly…" She was standing, looking down at him, and sounding more like an angry older sister than an angry, betrayed woman. It somehow gave him hope.
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Elizabeth?" She looked at him, rolled her eyes at his earnest expression, and sighed.
"What?"
He reached out for her hand, and she gave it, hesitantly. "I'm sorry. Really. I don't know if I'll have a chance to make up for it, but if it means anything to you… I'm so sorry."
She exhaled and took her hand back. "I'm not the one you hurt. Not the only one, anyway."
"Yeah, but I don't think he'll ever speak to me again."
El put her hand on his tousled head. "Neal. He said 'not now'. He needs some time to figure out how he wants to handle things." She smiled a little. "I know him."
"Right." The con man dropped his head back in the chair. "I probably don't deserve another chance."
He stared at the floor, looking so forlorn that she almost laughed as she ruffled his hair. "Don't be so sure. He even gave Fowler another chance."
His eyes lifted to hers, and a bit of the blue brightened hopefully. "Do you think-"
The noise of shoes pounding down the stairs made them turn. Peter was running, tucking in his shirt, his phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear. "Right. Which one? Got it. Good work." He looked at Elizabeth and Neal. "They found him."
"Where?"
"Downtown Hospital. Alive but critical. Shot in the chest. What? He said what?" He looked at them in astonishment as he spoke into the phone once more. "Okay. On my way." Pocketing his phone, he shook his head at his wife. "He was conscious for a few minutes, and they asked if they should call anyone… he said 'Mrs. Suit'."
Elizabeth blinked once, and moved toward the hall closet to grab her coat. "Let's go."
Neal had automatically straightened his jacket and hair. "Jones is outside -"
Peter responded briskly. "I'll tell him to take you home."
Neal took a step closer to him, his eyes questioning. "Wait. I'm coming with you. It's Moz, Peter."
Peter turned, and for a moment bitterness got the best of him, and he didn't sound like himself at all. "It's outside your radius, Caffrey." Neal jerked back as if he had been slapped, but it was Elizabeth's quiet gasp that made Peter stop and look at her. What he saw there was surprise, but under it, confidence that he would do the right thing - plus reassurance that even if he didn't, she would stand by him. Her calm strength made it easier for him to pause, take a moment, and look at the young man standing there like a whipped pup.
It was far too easy to imagine in those youthful features a much younger man, a child, perhaps; just as browbeaten by someone who had authority over him, standing with fear and something else in his eyes. Lack. A lack that he was still trying to fill.
Peter looked back at El and nodded, a hint of smile softening his features. Then he grabbed the doorknob and threw a look at his erstwhile partner. Almost against his will, Peter found his hand resting on the younger man's shoulder. "Come on, Neal. I'll tell Jones you're with me."
Neal seemed closer to tears than he was before. "Thank you. Really." Peter sighed and nodded as Caffrey headed out the door. The blue in the younger man's eyes was shining brighter as he turned back to call to them. "I'll tell Jones. You start the car."
As their con man ran down the sidewalk, Elizabeth grabbed Peter and held him tightly, giving him a warm kiss. "You're a good man, Peter Burke."
He pulled back to look at her and then took her hand as they ran down the walk after Neal, mumbling gruffly. "And I thought we were going to wait to have children…"
