Broken Glass

Chapter 1

Neal let out an irritated sigh as he side stepped swiftly on the crowded pathway he was walking on to narrowly avoid colliding with a strangers shoulder. The streets were humming with activity as everyone battled the crowded roads and subways in the early morning work rush.

The CI navigated his way with quick ease, carefully weaving through the swarms of people. Despite the congestion and the occasional shoulder bump there were worse ways to commute to work. The weather was surprisingly pleasant, the cool temperature made his walk much more tolerable than it would have been if he had taken the subway.

Of course there was nothing stopping him from catching a cab, but over the past few months he'd grown used to having some time to clear his head before arriving at the office.

Things had been tense between him and Peter, hardly unsurprising considering everything that had happened with Keller and the Nazi loot not that long ago. Neal wasn't surprised the first morning Peter didn't turn up to give him a ride to work, the pair couldn't even stand in the same room for more than five minutes without the atmosphere becoming unbearable, let alone be stuck in the same car every morning.

He didn't blame Peter for his change in attitude, Neal had put the most important person in Peter's life in danger; no number of apologies could change that.

The CI was sure it would only be a matter of time before he was transferred to another department, or even given a new handler; it would probably be better for everybody if he was out of the way. He felt like an unwanted nuisance at the office, at least if he was transferred the cloud of tension that seemed to follow him around would hopefully disappear. Now he just had to wait it out and eventually the inevitable would happen.

Of course he would miss little things, like the horrible smell of devilled ham and listening to the game while he and Peter were on a stakeout, stealing Peter's things when he wasn't looking; even the long nights spent in the van with Jones and Diana.

The honking of a horn startled him from his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed he'd stopped at a cross walk and the light had turned green.

He shook his head as he Jogged across the road; the last thing he needed was to be late. He looked down for a brief moment to glance at his watch when suddenly there was a deafening bang. Before Neal could look up he felt a blast of heat from behind him as he was knocked off his feet and vision tunneled.

It was the sound of screaming that ultimately pulled him from the darkness.

Neal's eyes fluttered open; dazed he winced as he felt his head throb with intensity. He tried to blink away the apparent dust making his eyes water but only succeeded in making the stinging worse. The cold hard concrete beneath his body did little to ease his discomfort.

His brain struggled to process his thoughts.

Why was there screaming?

And how the hell had he ended up on the floor?

The CI tried to put out a hand to push himself to his feet when a sharp stab of pain made him cry out. He pulled his arm tightly towards his chest, gritting his teeth at the uncomfortable twinge spreading throughout the limb.

His arm was definitely broken.

Ignoring the stiffness in his muscles, he rolled over onto his left side and used his good arm to push himself upright. He almost recoiled when the palm of his hand began twinging in irritation; Neal was baffled to see that the ground beneath him was covered in pieces of crushed, rough broken glass.

Neal staggered to his feet unsteadily, frowning at the growing chaos around him in confusion while he tried to stay upright.

The ground was littered with dark ash and dust.

Dazed drivers stumbled from their vehicles, abandoning their car's to get away from the bellowing smoke pouring from the charred remains of a burning car in the middle of the street. Hot flames burned from every window of the ruined car, the heavy smell of petrol and burning was choking; polluting the air.

Even with the near constant ringing in his ears he could hear the sound of car alarms wailing loudly, until the screams of onlookers were cut out by the noisy sirens of the emergency services.

Neal was distracted from the bedlam at the feeling of something warm trickling down the side of his face. He touched his forehead gingerly, startled when saw that his fingertips were covered in blood.

At least that explained the headache.

A shout from behind him startled him.

'Everybody step back!'

A group of cop's jumped out of a squad car and began cornering off the area in an urgent frenzy.

'Jesus Christ, somebody get the white suits down here now, make sure nobody touches anything!'

He followed the gaze of the cop shouting urgently at the radio is his hand, his stomach turned when he spotted the bloody remains of a person's hand, lying exposed in the middle of the road.

The sight filled him with alarm. Neal could feel bile creeping up his throat; he quickly turned his head away from the gruesome scene, swaying on his feet when a strong feeling of light-headedness threatened to knock him off balance.

It was alarming to think if he had been standing any closer it could have been his arm on the floor.

Even after seeing the welcoming sight of fluorescent jackets belonging to arriving paramedics his panic overrode rationality. He couldn't stay there a minute longer, he had to move; it wasn't safe to linger on the streets.

What if there was another explosion?

Neal slowly staggered forwards, dragging his feet heavily across the pavement. The world began to tilt though his vision, but he pushed himself forward. His aching arm hung limply by his side but he ignored the stiffness in his limbs and carried on one small step at a time.

The CI didn't acknowledge the concerned gazes of onlookers.

Right now he was moving on autopilot.

There was only one thing on his mind right now; he had to get to the office and find safety.

He had to find Peter.

Peter took large swig of stale coffee, barely suppressing a shudder at the foul tasting liquid. The aftertaste was awful but he desperately needed the caffeine to kick start his system, it wasn't even 8:30 and he was already flagging.

He skimmed through his emails unenthusiastically, squinting tiredly as the small font on the brightly lit screen began to make his eyes ache.

God he was so tired.

Lately he was always feeling wrung out. No amount of sleep or caffeinated beverages could rid him of the worry and stress that seemed to plague him constantly.

Almost every minute of the day he had to fight the urge to pick up the phone and ring Elizabeth to see if she was ok; but by now he knew better than to give in to temptation. He'd already been scolded enough lately by his wife about the constant stream of texting and phone calls. She knew his heart was is the right place but unsurprisingly it was becoming smothering.

No matter how hard he tried Peter couldn't help being paranoid.

Just because Keller was behind bars, Peter couldn't guarantee that there weren't any of his accomplices still roaming the streets.

Things would never be the same again, especially between him and Neal.

What little trust that had existed between them was now completely gone. He had tried his best to be civil for the sake of work but it was almost intolerable, he couldn't even look the CI in the eye without feeling a twinge of resentment.

Peter was very disappointed.

At one time he had actually thought it was possible for Neal to change, but apparently it was impossible. The thrill of a well-planned heist and the desire for expensive paintings and relics were clearly more important to the con man then the fresh start he'd been offered.

Tensions were strained and awkward at the office but Peter wasn't sure what the long term solution was to keeping things smooth, sooner or later Hughes would notice how he kept sending Jones or Diana to work a case with the CI rather than himself. That reminded him; he had another mortgage fraud case that needed to be dealt with.

He glanced through the glass surrounding his office; there was no sign of Neal yet. He frowned at the clock on his desk, 8:35 and Neal still wasn't there; he was cutting it a little fine.

Peter let out a jaw popping yawn, he sighed before standing to his feet; it seemed that he would need one more cup of coffee after all. He grabbed the day's case files from his desk before he slipped through the glass door with ease. He'd made it half way down the small set of stairs when out of nowhere a loud bang stunned the whole office. The ground quaked for a split second before stilling; the whole department was suddenly blanketed in a moment of silence.

Peter let go of the stair railing that he had grasped onto, looking around the room in bewilderment.

Hughes was the first to break the awkward silence.

'What the hell was that?'

A frenzy of chatter opened up around the room as everyone peered cautiously out of the windows, studying the streets below for answers.

In the distance a bellow of smoke could be seen rising into the air just a few blocks away, though the surrounding buildings obscured their vision from making any real speculations.

Peter subconsciously reached in his pocket for his cell phone; he had another strong urge to call El again before his rational mind reminded him she was out of town.

Damn it, get a grip Burke.

'Jones, call the local PD and find out what's going on out there.'

'I'm already on it.'

'Everyone stay where you are, nobody leaves this room until we know what's going on,' Hughes voice conveyed uncertainty.

Peter began ushering everyone away from the windows, trying to compose a sense of order.

'It's probably just an accident but let's just exercise caution ok?'

He did a quick head count as everyone went back to their desks, among the concerned faces in the office Neal's wasn't one of them. He felt frustration building; god damn it where the hell was he?

He fumed at the thought of the consultant still sleeping in at Junes while this was going on. He fumbled with his cell before dialling Neal's number, cursing when it went rang out straight to voicemail.

'Damn it Neal where the hell you?' he slammed his hand down on the desk frustration, redialling Neal's number.

'Diana pull up Caffrey's tracking data, find out where the hell he is.'

'You got it boss.'

He began drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk impatiently as he waited for Diana to log on to Neal's tracking data. Someone's phone was ringing constantly in the background, grating on his every last nerve.

'Would someone answer that damn phone?!' he snapped.

'Boss…'

His attention turned away from the computer screen and followed Diana's gaze toward the doorway, and his stomach dropped at the sight that greeted him.

Staggering unsteadily out of the elevator was none other than the CI himself.

In that short moment, all of his anger vanished.

'Oh my god.'

Neal was covered from head to toe in soot and dust. Crushed shards of broken glass littered the shoulders of his torn, ruined suit jacket.

His face was covered in smudges of dirt and blood; his cheeks were littered with small bloody scratches; more worryingly there was a thick trail of blood, dripping across his forehead and trickling down one side of his face.

The only sound that pierced the silence was the continuous ringing of a cell phone.

Peter looked down to see a phone clutched in Neal's bloodied quivering hand; the phone was ringing from Peter's call, but Neal didn't seem to notice; he just continued to stare vacantly, lingering in the doorway.

Peter forced himself to move, pushing aside the shock he cautiously moved to stand in front of the shuddering consultant.

'N-Neal?'

Peter's stuttering voice seemed to bring him out of his daze; Neal took a shaky breath, swallowing heavily before his glassy eyes met Peter's.

'Sorry I'm late.'