Notes: Here's a story written in response to a prompt and has got out a little out of hand. I'm up to three chapters in writing for it (the Bryce and Dick parts of Neal haven't had much time, we're very white collar focused in these first chapters). There are some adjustments to the prompt. The Bat family don't know about Neal and Bryce but, at the same time, Dick didn't disappear for long stretches of time while being Neal and Bryce (and he didn't spend those four years sitting around in prison. Officially he did but unofficially, he didn't).
From Mystery0028:
Could you write a story like Many names,Many lives,One person but Bruce and the rest of the Bat family do not know that Dick joined the CIA and try to find him when Dick "disappears" when he goes undercover as Neal and they do find him and are super disappointed that Dick was "breaking the law" behind their backs, but then something happens and Bryce's cover as Neal is blown and everyone finds out that Dick joined the CIA with the name Bryce and that he was just undercover as Neal Caffery.
When Lives Collide - Chapter 1
Neal should have known that it would come up at some point. Peter cornered him with a disappointed frown and the file on the case they were working.
"Out with it," he said.
Neal kept his smile and shrugged, uncertain of what Peter wanted him to say.
Peter passed him the file and tapped a name which turned up on the first page.
Bruce Wayne. Businessman. Rich. Had a painting stolen from his personal office the week before.
"Wasn't me," Neal said. "I'm not crazy enough to steal from Bruce Wayne. They say he has the Batman in his pocket."
"Myths and legends," Peter grumbled. But he seemed to believe Neal when he said he didn't do it. "Put together a list of people who have the skill to pull this off. And don't think I haven't noticed that you're avoiding the guy. Why?"
"Again, he has Batman in his pocket." Sort of. Neal knew the truth. He had known it since he was ten years old, descending a hidden staircase into a cold and damp batcave. "I'm not getting anywhere near someone with those kinds of connections."
"The Batman," Peter said in a deadpan. "Really?"
"Aw, afraid of the big bad bat?" Diana teased.
"Yes," Neal responded instantly. "What self-respecting thief wouldn't be? I didn't get as far as I did by antagonising vigilantes."
"But the FBI was fair game?" Peter questioned in an amused tone.
Neal faked sick the next day. He had narrowed down a list of suspects and then narrowed it down some more until they had only one name on the list. It was perfect because Mozzie had known the guy and also didn't like him enough to protect him. With Mozzie's information, they would be able to gather enough evidence to make an arrest.
So, Neal faked sick to avoid the office and the likelihood that Bruce Wayne would be there.
He forgot to account for bat-paranoia. If he had, he would have locked himself down inside one of Mozzie's safe houses and fudged the data on the anklet. But, since he forgot, it meant he was home when the Batman and his birds came knocking.
It happened quickly. There was a swoop and the door slid open, Batman strolling in like he owned the place. He took up so much of the room, even in the evening light, that Neal almost missed Red Robin and Robin following him in.
"What the-" And that cursing gave away Red Hood's presence. Neal sighed and placed the knife down on the table. "You're the guy who forged the Atlantic Incorporated bonds? YOU?" Red Hood looked between Batman and Neal. "Are you seeing the same thing I am?" he demanded of Batman.
"Red Hood," Batman said, in the 'be silent' snap of voice.
Neal stared at the Batman. "What do you want? I solved the case of who took your painting. On that note, why did you even care about it? It was no Raphael or Picasso and you could have gotten it back without involving the FBI."
"There's due process. The painting was stolen and people noticed. If I hadn't called the FBI, it would have been noted and would have cast suspicion on me."
"Why are you answering his questions?" Red Hood huffed. "I thought we came here to question Neal Caffrey on his involvement."
"Grayson wasn't involved," Robin growled at Red Hood.
"Sure. And he didn't forge bonds and end up in prison for, how long did you end up in prison?"
"Depends. Officially, I served four years and gained another four after breaking out, which I'm now serving on anklet and with the FBI. But, technically I didn't serve my sentence."
"Well, yeah. We would have noticed if you vanished for four years," Red Robin pointed out.
"Duh," Red Hood added with a motion that suggested he was rolling his eyes under the helmet. Neal didn't really feel like sitting through a family fight. He picked up phone and wallet.
"Look, are you going to stay or are you going to patrol?" The family stared at him.
"I think we have a lot to talk about," Batman said in a gravelly tone. "Like why you're playing Catwoman on the side."
Neal was insulted. "Seriously B? I'm not 'playing Catwoman' and I'm sure she would be just as insulted at the comparison as I am. We have different targets and MOs. Aren't you supposed to be a detective?"
"Ouch," Red Robin said before he could help it.
Neal smirked and walked right out. He hopped into a taxi and got a lift to Peter's house. Batman wouldn't dare expose himself by breaking into Agent Burke's place.
Peter's phone buzzed. He let it ring out since he was in a meeting with Bruce Wayne in order to get everything ready before the criminal's trial. Neal had actually come to the meeting, although he was regretting it. Bruce kept glancing at him, to the point where Peter had caught onto it. Neal knew he would have to wave off Peter's digging over the next couple of weeks now.
The phone buzzed again. Neal hoped it was just someone attempting to get through, believing that Peter had just missed the phone the first time.
"Sorry, I'll just be a moment," Peter said, pulling the phone out of his pocket and turning away. Something was wrong. "Who is this?" Peter demanded to know. He pulled the phone away from his ear and Neal's heart sunk when he caught a glimpse of the name on the phone screen.
El's name. Peter clicked the 'loudspeaker' on and a familiar voice filled the room. It was not El's voice. It was a male one which was tense but also eerily calm.
"Hello FBI. Here's the deal. My men have stormed the business of Elizabeth Burke, Agent Burke's wife. We want a trade. Neal Caffrey for Elizabeth Burke and all her workers."
"Explain what you want with Neal," Peter growled.
"That is of no import. Just know that Elizabeth will be killed if you do not comply within the hour."
"That's not exactly possible," Bruce yawned. Neal glared at him, silently telling him to not get involved. Batman or not, Bruce didn't know who he was dealing with. "I do think Agent Burke will need a little more time to drive Neal over there."
The person paused. "Fine. Two hours. That is all the time I will allow." He hung up before they could trace the call.
The room was silent.
"I suppose we owe you for buying us more time," Jones said to Bruce.
"Not really. I suppose this acts as a kind of lesson to criminals who get people upset with them."
Neal's hand clenched. He could not believe Bruce had just said that. "A place of business has been invaded, innocent people have been taken hostage and all you can think about is that it's a lesson?"
"Neal!" Peter barked. He was the only person would Neal would listen to right now. After all, Peter was the only one who had more to lose than he did.
Neal took a deep breath. He could fight B over this later. For now, he needed to help El.
"Make the trade," he said to Peter.
Although Peter hesitated, he did remind Neal that the FBI didn't make deals with kidnappers. Especially ones who held up places of business with armed teams.
"He'll kill her, Peter! Make the trade!"
Peter dug in his heels. "No." He looked over at Diana. "Watch him. He's not to leave this building."
Diana nodded. She knew, just as Peter did, that Neal was likely to go trade himself over if they stopped watching him for even a moment.
"This case isn't in our jurisdiction," Peter said softly as he went to the connecting door which lead to Hughes' office. "I'm going to see if Hughes can pull some strings for us."
The room was still silent when Peter left. It was like the agents didn't have a clue of what to do. Bruce was watching everything go down while subtly contacting the other members of the family and giving them the details. But Neal knew they had no idea who they were dealing with. He did.
"Diana, I'm going to go get something from my desk," he said. Thankfully, she didn't stop him. It was well within his plans for her to follow him down as he popped open his drawer and then pulled out the false bottom. He saw Diana's look of surprise as he pulled out a badge and burner phone.
"I have strings to pull as well," he informed her, passing her his badge. She stared at it for a couple of moments, eyes wide. After a moment, she opened the badge and scrutinised it. Her eyes scanned it over and over, looking for the smallest imperfection which would prove it fake. She couldn't find one.
Neal was on the phone to General Beckman, the woman currently in charge at the CIA. She was not happy. She also suggested that Neal get in contact with someone who could protect him when this whole thing blew up in his face.
"Call Chuck, got it," he said as he hung up on her. He was one of the few people who did that to her, since he knew she didn't really care for small talk.
"Who's Chuck?" Diana asked.
"He runs Carmichael Industries," Neal responded. However, he didn't quite have the guts to call Chuck. After all, Chuck still thought he was dead.
Email. Email was better. What better way to announce to his old friend that he was still around and kicking? He contemplated using one of their old codes as a password into the email before deciding that there was no reason not to.
Diana frowned at him, perhaps getting a sense of his plan.
"The badge isn't a fake, I assure you."
"That means so much," Diana responded sarcastically. "And is this Chuck person going to protect me?" she questioned.
"Good point," Neal mused. He tucked a hand into his pocket, pretending to think for a moment before tossing knock out gas into her face. It was a bat recipe which worked quickly. He gently laid Diana's sleeping body on the ground and bolted.
A call to Mozzie got him a cab. While in the cab, he sent off the email to Chuck and a text to his brothers. After all, they were in the city and maybe could help.
Neal tussled up his hair, breathing a little easier since he didn't have it had it be so neat for once. He hated it but was used to styling his hair nicely for work. He pulled off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.
"I don't appreciate the show, Neal," Mozzie grumbled from the front seat. It was all in good teasing though. "This is a taxi, not your bedroom."
"Come on, Moz. It's not like I haven't changed in stranger places," Neal responded as he pulled out a black turtleneck which Mozzie always stored in his taxi. It was Neal's escape car of choice. It came complete with scissors which Neal could use to cut the anklet off. He tossed it out the window.
"Are you running?" Mozzie asked curiously, teasing tone gone.
"I might have to," Neal sighed. "But we have to help El first."