Response to another prompt on Tumblr:

Leeleetaichou:

how about this. neal is dick but doesn't realize he's dick cause of amnesia :D

Notes: This one will be a two parter. This first part sets the scene while the second part will have more reactions and things.


Lost Character


Neal sat in the conference room, a little confused but hiding it under a mask of boredom. He had his feet resting on the table while he tossed his rubber-band ball and wondered why Jones had sent him up here as soon as he walked in.

Peter finally came in with a grim expression on his face. It was the expression he wore whenever he learnt about Neal doing something not quite legal while on the anklet. Neal immediately started thinking over what he possibly could have done. However, he couldn't think of anything which warranted the disappointed look.

"What's going on?" he asked instead, keeping his voice light.

It looked like Peter wasn't going to answer but the agent finally moved to sit down.

"What do you know about Bruce Wayne?"

Neal blinked. "I have literally never heard that name in my life. Why?"

Peter's mouth dropped open and Neal dropped his feet to the ground and stared at the agent. There had to be a reason for this as it wasn't like Peter to ask Neal about random people.

"Did he lose a painting and blame it on me? Because, I swear Peter, I had nothing to do with it."

Peter finally seemed to snap out of his stupor and shook his head. "Nothing like that. Mr Wayne seems to believe you might be his missing son."

"His what?" Neal recoiled. "Why would he think that?"

"I don't know Neal. But at this moment, we're looking into you possibly conning him. After all, Wayne is a very rich man."

"He is? What's he do?"

Peter rolled his eyes but didn't take them off Neal for a moment, judging his every movement and trying to assess whether Neal was being honest. Which he was. Neal had no idea who this Wayne guy was.

"He's in everything. Wayne is one of the big names in business, especially in his hometown of Gotham."

"I've never been to Gotham," Neal quickly said, making himself an alibi.

"He even has an office here in New York."

"Really?"

Peter continued staring as he said, "Neal, it's just up the street in Worth Street." Seeing Neal's confusion he confirmed, "you seriously have no idea who he is."

Neal shrugged, trying to hide how shaken he was. Obviously Peter had been expecting him to at least know who Wayne was. Neal didn't like the feeling that he disappointed him. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"Alright," Peter said. "I'm going to get Hughes to bring Wayne in."

Neal was even more nervous than he had been before. His stomach was doing flip-flops in some kind of anticipation. What was he waiting for?


Bruce Wayne entered the room like he owned it. Neal tried not to see his own confidence in Wayne's movement. He focused on how Bruce's confidence came from a serious and imposing attitude which said he could do anything. Neal's own was a lighthearted attitude which put people at ease.

Wayne walked in and took a seat across from Neal. Nerves fluttered in Neal's gut as he held the billionaire's eyes. They were an intense stormy blue which stayed fixed on his own. Wayne was also tense.

Neal tilted his head. Was there something familiar about those eyes? That jawline?

"Neal Caffrey," Hughes said as he stood at the end of the table. Neal jolted and looked towards their boss, smiling and waiting whatever came next. "This is Bruce Wayne. He says he wanted to speak with you. Peter and I will be remaining to make sure nothing happens."

Neal's smile softened into something more natural. He didn't know about Hughes but he was sure Peter was staying to make sure he was safe.

"Okay," he said, turning back to Wayne. "Why did you want to meet with me?"

Wayne pulled a folder out of his briefcase and placed it in front of himself. He opened it and pulled out a copy of Neal's fingerprints.

"Are these your fingerprints?" he asked.

Neal took the paper and instantly knew they were his. Mozzie had made him study his own fingerprints. Flippantly, he commented, "who would know without checking?"

Wayne wasn't the least bit put off. "Then let's check." He pulled out ink and another piece of paper.

Neal looked to Peter and Hughes. Peter shrugged and mouthed for him to 'just do it'. Indulging the crazy billionaire was something Neal guessed the FBI had to do from time to time. He took his fingerprints and put them on the paper for Wayne, even though it made him worry to do so. Why did Wayne want his fingerprints? Mozzie would kill him if he knew Neal was doing this.

Wayne took the paper and examined it. He took out another set of fingerprints and placed them on the table.

"Another one?" Neal sighed.

Wayne raise an eyebrow at him. Neal ignored the familiarity of the gesture. "Are these yours?"

"Yes," Neal responded. He pointed to the sheet Wayne was holding. "Don't they match?"

"They do," Wayne responded with a small smile. "Except this sheet of fingerprints belongs to my son, Dick Grayson."

Neal's heart skipped a beat, his train of thought screeching to a halt. Who? What?

"Grayson? Not Wayne?" he questioned, his voice sounding distant to his ears.

"I took him in as a child, as my ward and adopted him as an adult," Bruce explained. "He vanished around about the time you appeared here, in New York."

"What are you saying, Mr. Wayne?" Hughes questioned in a low tone, having put the pieces together.

"How can you know that?" Peter asked. "We don't know when Neal came to New York."

"Yes, you only have his files since he was eighteen but nothing physical until Neal came onto your radar with the bonds. Files can be faked."

Neal's vision blurred and stung with the need to blink. But he couldn't. He couldn't take his eyes off Bruce. He was serious.

He knew this face. He-

"Neal?" Peter questioned. Neal flinched back, standing up instinctively.

"What exactly are you saying?" he growled at Bruce, hands placed on the desk.

"Caffrey," Hughes said in warning.

Neal realised with him towering over the still seated Bruce, he probably looked like he was intimidating or threatening the billionaire.

"Do you remember your life before New York?" Bruce questioned calmly, not at all thrown off by Neal's sudden change in demeanour.

There was no good way to answer this. Usually, Neal didn't think about it. He didn't know much about his life before twenty-three, when he appeared in New York. His first clear memories were of Central Park.

Peter was shocked. He never considered that Neal's closed nature about his past was because he couldn't remember it.

"I can't," Neal finally admitted, hanging his head. "I don't really care about it though."

"I'm sorry," Bruce suddenly said. Neal looked up to see a small, sad smile on his face while his eyes seemed a bit too bright. "I'm sorry it took us so long to find you."

"Us?" Neal questioned, forehead creasing. The flash of a coffin which featured in his nightmares whenever someone suggested he use violence. The butler without a face, who formed some inspiration for Neal's aliases when doing a con.

Peter's hand went to Neal's arm, guiding him back into the chair.

"Quick, what names won't you ever consider for an alias?" Bruce demanded.

Peter glared at him but Neal found himself automatically responding to that tone.

"Jason and Todd, Tim, Bruce-" he stopped as the name of the man before him passed across his lips. Instead of looking offended, Bruce looked amused. Victorious, even. "What does this prove?" Neal questioned, his heart constricting. He knew. Somewhere deep inside, he knew. Exactly what he couldn't articulate. Not yet.

"Perhaps we should continue this at a later date," Hughes said, giving Peter a worried glance. Peter nodded.

"No," Neal said in a hard voice.

"I agree with you, agent," Bruce responded with a look at Hughes. "I will just say two things before I leave."

Hughes glared at Bruce but nodded. Neal wanted to yell at them both to not decide things like this without him but Peter shook his head at him.

"First thing, I will return tomorrow to continue this conversation," Bruce said, looking Neal in the eye. "Second thing, the reason I will do that is tied to how you lost your memory. The process means you may end up forgetting this conversation completely by tomorrow."

"I... what?" Neal questioned, confused. He didn't think he could ever forget this conversation, it was strange and contained a lot of information to think about.

"One question before you leave," Peter said as Bruce stood up. "How certain are you that Neal is your missing son? He is a conman after all."

The corner of Bruce's mouth quirked up as he responded, "ninety-eight percent."


Neal didn't know how to process this. He remained in Peter's office all day, wary about going downstairs and facing the agents and their questions. He both didn't want to think about it and couldn't stop thinking about it.

Peter took note of how quiet Neal was and worried. He didn't think Neal was conning them or Bruce Wayne. Not with how quiet and shaken the conman was. Neal worked on paperwork for most of the day, lost in his thoughts.

"Do you believe it's true?" he asked Neal towards the end of the day. "Do you believe you're Bruce Wayne's missing son?"

"I don't know," Neal responded. "It's true that I can't remember anything before New York, which makes everything Bruce said possible. But, I just... don't know. What does it all mean?"

Peter looked at his screen and wondered whether to inform Neal of this. The corner of the conman's mouth was twisted in thought and his eyebrows were knitted together as he drew on the back of his form. Peter probably should have stopped him but, he believed Neal benefited therapeutically from doing art right now.

"The names you said, the ones you wouldn't use," Peter started. "They're Wayne's other sons."

"What?" Neal questioned, looking up from his paper. "What are you talking about?"

"Jason Todd," Jason and Todd, "was his second son, adopted after Dick Grayson moved out. Tim is probably Timothy Drake, his third son who was adopted much later on when his father died. However, there are rumours that he was part of the family long before that as there are photos of him accompanying Wayne to events before his father died. There's a fourth son-"

"Damian," Neal interrupted. His eyes were wide as if he both couldn't believe his guess was right but with knowledge that it would be.

Peter nodded. "The youngest. I find it hard to believe you knew nothing about Wayne."

"Maybe he'll explain it tomorrow," Neal said with a shrug. However, Peter heard the weight of the words. Neal was really worried. There was no way Peter was going to leave him alone tonight.


El didn't even hesitate to include Neal for dinner. Peter quickly relayed the story to her before he and Neal left. El kept the night the same as any other when Neal joined them. His place was set at the table and he received food and a blanket when he retired to the couch.

Lights went off, they all went to bed. Peter told her about his worried over the next day, Wayne's return had him slightly on edge. Whatever the billionaire had to reveal, Peter was certain he wouldn't be happy about it.


Neal opened his eyes to the smell of bacon. He hummed in contentment as he climbed off the couch and stretched out his muscles. He did a couple of stretches and loosened up his muscles so that he was more flexible before heading into the kitchen. He muttered a 'morning' to El as he reached for the cereal.

"I'm making bacon," El commented in a teasing and friendly way.

"Cereal and bacon," Neal pointed out, trying to articulate that he could eat both as he stumbled to the dining room and made himself a bowl. Peter came down shortly after, yawning and hungry.

"Do you have to steal all my cereal, Caffrey?" Peter grumbled as he sat down. El placed a plate of bacon in front of him. "Thanks, hon."

"Yes," Neal responded, taking another bite. "Where's my bacon, El?"

"You need to finish that bowl first," El pointed out with a grin as he went to make a plate for herself.

"So, ready to talk to with Wayne again today?" Peter asked Neal.

Neal sighed. "Not really. I guess I should be glad he didn't bring the whole family."

"I think Hughes is glad about that as well."

"Very much so," Neal said, "I don't really want to witness a fight first thing in the morning." Peter hummed in interest, encouraging Neal to keep talking. "Jason, Tim and Damian all enjoy fighting each other. Or at least, I think they enjoy it. Otherwise, why do they keep fighting?"

"Boys will be boys," Peter commented. He kept from pointing out that Neal seemed to remember something. Otherwise, how did he know about the temperament of Bruce's other sons?


Neal remembered a lot. He remembered being grabbed. He had been targeted during his investigation which had been a fact finding mission done as a favour for an old buddy from the Bludhaven force. The gang had been surprised to end up with Bruce Wayne's son but also excited to use him.

It still gave Neal pleasure that he had made their lives difficult. Not only was erasing his memories much more difficult than they had expected but, he hadn't even done what they had wanted.

"I was taken and had my memories messed with in order to act as a scapegoat for a criminal group, wasn't I?" Neal said to Bruce the moment he spotted the billionaire sitting in the conference room.

Peter looked at him in surprise at the information.

"Slow it down, Caffrey and wait for us to sit," Hughes said, slipping into a chair. Neal frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

"As soon as Bruce confirms it."

"It's true," Bruce responded. With a nod, Neal slipped into the seat across from him and between Peter and Hughes. "You were here, helping a friend who moved from the Bludhaven police force to the New York one. When you went missing, it took him three months to contact us, by which time, the trail had gone cold." Neal winced but Bruce continued, "there was no guarantee that you would remember, even with me appearing to trigger your memories. After all, they had made sure that, not only did you not remember us, you were ingrained to avoid us."

"That's why Neal didn't know who you were," Peter mused. "Because anytime he did, whatever they did made the information disappear."

"Is that even possible?" Hughes commented.

Neal knew his next words would bug the agent. "It is with alien tech."

"Of course," Hughes sighed. No one liked dealing with alien tech. Mostly they passed it to cyber crimes or forensics, depending on what the tech was. And then the tech ended up in the hands of other government agencies where Hughes wasn't going to think about what they did with it.

"It seems that my presence has had the opposite effect though," Bruce said with a smile. He looked to Neal. "You remember, don't you?" Neal smiled back, a wider and more open smile. Peter stared at him, knowing that he had never seen Neal smile like that before. "It probably helps that you've been passively fighting against everything you were programmed since you were sent out."

Neal laughed and Hughes' eyebrows rose. It wasn't a sound they heard often, if at all. "I was supposed to deposit the money from the bonds in their secret accounts but instead I made off with the cash!"

"And the rest of your crimes?" Hughes wanted to know.

Neal thought about that for a moment. With a shrug, he said, "you only got me on the bonds."

"Neal," Peter said in a warning tone. "We just need to know if any cases where you're the main suspect need to be looked at again for other suspects."

Neal hummed. "Probably not. What else is an amnesiac guy with money and illegal bonds going to do?"

"Get a job?" Hughes suggested with a slight edge of sarcasm.

"Dick was never very good at that."

"Bruce!" Neal said in a scandalised tone. Peter chuckled.

"Working with the FBI might be good for you," Bruce mused.

"What?" Neal questioned flatly in shock.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were doing it as yourself and not what someone else tried to make you."

"Bruce-"

Bruce nodded to Hughes. "Thank you for your time, Hughes."

"Are you seriously going to leave me here?" Neal kind of hated how much like a spoiled child he sounded but, he had thought Bruce needed him when he appeared.

"There's a thing called a phone, Dick," Bruce said. Neal glared at him, the hypocrite. "And I need to go update your details."

"No more Neal Caffrey?" That kind of hurt. Neal didn't mind his name.

"Up to you. But your records are going to reflect your name. You were always proud of it."

Neal grumbled something under his breath about how Bruce just always had to be right, didn't he?


Peter and Neal went to lunch, Peter quickly hurrying out of the office.

"You're in a bit of a rush," Neal commented as they waited in the elevator.

"I figured you didn't want us talking in the office with everyone around. Not until Hughes manages to have that meeting." Hughes was planning a meeting where they would explain about Neal being Dick so that they would only have to say it once.

Neal hummed in response, leaning against the wall of the elevator. He waved to the security camera.

"You still seem the same to me," Peter commented. "But also as if a weight has been lifted."

"I know who I am," Neal responded with a smile. "And I remember my family. I guess I never realised why it felt wrong not remembering, just that it did."

"Are you really friends with a cop?" Peter asked.

Neal smiled and shifted. He waited until the elevator stopped to say, "Peter, I was a cop." And he walked out.