Chapter 1
Something in Neal's soul flared, only a little, just the tiniest bit, the moment the needle broke his skin. Maybe it was adrenaline, perhaps it was fear, but it excited him. The fact that he was being administered this against his will was irrelevant: the smooth slippery liquid his veins were slowly sipping was going to make him feel good.
"I hope there's something fun in there, Nurse Ratched." His words are his first indication of the drug's affects; or at least, their delivery. His tongue slips and the last word sort of falls out of Neal's mouth, and he lets his gripped fist go limp. His head follows, and flops to the side, and last comes his mind. It slips away, in ripples, and he begins to soar. Portions of the spectrum grip his soul and swim through his veins, his body becoming a complete rainbow of color. The pale blue orbs in the whites of his eyes roll upward, then everything goes black. Something shifts in his mind, then snaps. He's taken.
This isn't exactly the most important thought in his mind right now- his brain has melted, and Neal finds a childlike glee in everything around him- but he knows Peter is going to be upset with him when he's found like this. While technically, this particular situation was an occupational hazard, a result of the job... this was once who Neal was. But no matter how deep you search, no matter what files you go through, you won't find it. Neal is so much more than one man- the entirety of his life has been cons and changes and different identities... there isn't any certainty in who he is anymore. This part... this unfortunate, self-destructive facet of himself that he can't seem to shake, you won't find it anywhere. Peter won't find it anywhere. He wouldn't have seen it coming, he doesn't know about it, because this isn't what Neal Caffrey is famous for. He's famous for stealing art and being a master of the craft of forgery, not for doing all those things for the money for his next hit. If you mentioned that to him, he would immediately go into defense mode: he doesn't do what he does for the drugs, he does it for the thrill. He does it because he's good at it, he's the master and that's what masters of their craft do- they show off every chance they get. The drugs were a side effect, if you will. After their introduction, Neal was hooked, the way he is to every exciting thing in his life. It's his addiction- not the drugs, but the thrill. He's addicted to the thrill and that includes running right up to the edge of the cliff with everything you involve yourself in. It's easy to see where the appeal was for him.
Prison cleaned him up. A blessing in disguise, he used to say. Even criminal mastermind Neal Caffrey couldn't get his fix in the confines of maximum security. But the temptation was always there, just like it always is. Temptation is his lady in black. It will always be what takes him down, and it will be what is the end of him. It was there the first time he experimented with drugs. It was there when Adler offered him a job. It was there when he ordered the prison guard uniform. It was there, waiting, when Peter told him not to go looking for Kate. It's always there. It's kind of sad, in a way. Temptation is the only thing that's been with Neal as long as he can remember. His constant companion. Not Peter. Not Kate. Not even Mozzie. Temptation.
The windows of the room appear to be melting, and when he looks down at his feet, they ripple as though they are underwater. A small smile, only for himself, plays on his lips. This smile isn't for anyone else' benefit. It's for him. In this moment, right here, he feels truly complete. More complete than he's ever felt with Kate. More complete than when he cracks a case with Peter. Normally, this would be followed with remorse, but right now it doesn't matter. All that matters is that Neal feels good. For the first time in a long time, Neal is perfectly happy with putting himself first and just feeling good.
Time has passed... it may be a minute and it may be a day, but to Neal, it hasn't been long enough. He's just started to get to the really good part and he almost feels like singing. Fuck. Why not. Why doesn't he?
"In the morning mist two lovers kissed and the world stood still... Hey buddy!" The smile on Neal's face is genuine... right now he couldn't be happier to see Peter. The furrowed brow Peter wears is genuine, too... but it's not all anger. The beautifully intelligent man has been reduced to near nothingness and that's what scares Peter more than anything.
"Shhh! Alright, we have to..." Something about restraints. Neal's focus is gone and he's not sure if Peter means the restraints around Neal's wrists, or the emotional restraint Neal so often completely lacks, keeping him from reaching his full potential. Neal is all heart in everything he does, whether it's search for Kate or break out of jail or steal art, and sometimes his heart gets in the way of getting the job done correctly or safely, as this incident proves. Neals fists limply hold themselves together as he lifts his hands, the leather and chain cuffs clattering to the carpeted floor, landing with a deadened thump.
"Ooh, you mean these? What. Never met a lock I couldn't pick... expect my anklet."
"Alright, come on," Peter interrupts him, grunting as he lifts the intoxicated man from the bed. This is what Neal is- a burden. That's all Neal has ever been to Peter, or at least, that's what he tells himself. He's only ever caused you trouble, Burke. The words ring in his head over and over, but they're just echoes, they don't actually mean anything to him. Peter knows he cares much more about Neal that he'd ever admit. After reassuring Peter twice that he's got it, he's got it, Neal attempts to stand on his own, but immediately collapses back into Peter's arms. When Peter glances down again, something catches his eye: a small sparkle in Neal's eyes, like they're smiling. It's not his usual twinkle that he turns on to charm the pants off of anyone and everyone he meets, it's something different, genuine. He's studied Neal long enough to know the charmer look, this is something Neal can't control. It's genuine happiness and for the life of him, Peter can't figure out what it is about this fucked-up situation that is making Neal so damn happy. Then again, if Neal can find some good in this terrible situation, Peter isn't sure he wants to know what it is.