Keepsake

A/N: Hey there everyone! :D :D I've been thinking about penning this OS for a while but I finally got around to it now. Just some hearty little angst to get out before the New Year sets in. :) Do please leave behind your precious feedback, I'd love to know what you think about this.

Happy Reading! :D :D

The warm summer sun blazed upon the benevolent canvas of New York in spite of the evening drawing to a close, marking the end of the day with a glorious sunset.

And yet Peter shivered as he walked upon the streets, a Ziploc bag and tracking ankle dangling uselessly from his numb fingers. Perhaps it was from disbelief, perhaps it was from shock. He couldn't determine which. But even as he raised his head to see the sky cast a beautiful orange hue cast in various shades of the same family, he knew it was wrong.

The world couldn't look like this.

Not without Neal Caffrey.

And yet the sky remained oblivious to his grief. Peter stopped a moment to take in its entire sight, suddenly reminded of one particular painting that partner had given birth to not shortly before. There was no particular theme to it and yet it was nearly this exact sunset. Was his partner capable of predicting the future too, then?

Partner?

Who was he kidding?

Peter shook his head as he snapped out of his stupor, continuing to walk down the path. He could see his destination appear closer, feeling yet another shiver course through the pores of his body.

"You're my best friend..."

"You're free..."

The only two phrases he was conscious of reproducing in memory were back, louder than ever to mock the gaping void his heart felt. But Peter Burke never felt this way. Maybe perhaps when El had been kidnapped and the thought of losing her had had him at his wit's end. Yet he'd never actually felt the way he did until now. Until it happened.

He couldn't go home. What would he tell his wife? That he was so engrossed in closing the biggest case of his life that he'd completely ignored the perils he thrown his friend into? That he was so mentally occupied in plotting different ways to bring Keller to justice for his wife that he'd chosen to use his friend as a middleman?

Neal was no child, a small voice at the back of his mind tried to justify, he knew the risks he was taking.

But that did not justify the end. That was Neal's philosophy, not his. Then why had he bought into Neal's idea this time? Did he really think this case would close at a happy ending for everyone? Or was he so eager to get shot of his friend that he was willing to go any length to draw his sentence to a close?

The thought alone made him cringe.

Reaching the doorstep of the lavish mansion, Peter knocked meekly. He didn't know what he was going to tell June. And what she was going to tell him in return. Things weren't always the best between them and he knew that June saw Neal as nothing less than her son. Yet when the door swung open, a sigh of relief left her lips.

June had gone out of town. The housekeeper let him in with a friendly smile, seemingly unaware about the fact that there was something drastically wrong with his demeanour. Or was he always that way? He couldn't tell.

Making his way up the steps one at a time, Peter could feel his knees wobble. It was a weight he knew he would carry for life. Reaching the door, his hand absently raised itself into a fist to knock before he realized that nobody would ever be on the other side of that door again. The lump in his throat nearly made his vision blur but he was spent.

Breaking down once at the hospital had unlocked emotions within him that had perhaps been stuffed down from years of fears and repressions.

Hell, he couldn't even remember when was the last time he'd cried in the first place.

Nimbly turning the knob, Peter entered the room. It was exactly the way it was since he'd last seen it. Bed made, plans stacked aside neatly in rolls, the completed painting of the haunted sunset and a vinyl recorder at the far end of the room, hinting that June had paid him a visit. An opened bottled of wine lay on the kitchen platform with three used glasses, assuming that Mozzie had perhaps been a part of the party too.

Peter found his knees nearly buckle with the apartment that was just so... Neal.

The apartment still had the essence of Neal's cologne in the air along with the smell of drying paints, wine and perhaps something like eggs and bacon mingled alongside. His fedora hung behind the door, its wrinkles as though condescending him while a softer waft of aftershave floated through the bedroom. But as he stepped into the studio apartment completely, he was hit by the heavy waft of Italian Roast from the open balcony doors.

Cappuccino in the clouds with a million-dollar view.

Even before Peter knew it, he found his hands draw out a seat and fell into it in a heap. Had there not been a chair, he knew that his knees would have found the ground in hard contact soon. It was getting overwhelming. He couldn't think straight, he couldn't breathe straight, he couldn't see anything straight.

It just couldn't happen.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to shake his friend and ask him to come back, to call off what Mozzie believed was some kind of JFK Decoy Hearse and to pop up with his stupid smile and cartoonish fedora. The guilt seemed to choke him and yet he couldn't muster the courage to go home. He couldn't face his wife after what had happened. He couldn't face himself.

But he couldn't cry. He was spent.

Evening blended into night and he continued to remain glued to his seat, unfeeling. Thoughts and memories flashed through his mind in sporadic films, yet it only left him feeling numb. His fingertips cold and his chest tight. Nobody from the Bureau had contacted him yet, not since he left the hospital with Jones and Diana behind to handle the rest after giving his statement. A statement he'd recorded while Neal was in surgery.

A phone beeper suddenly and Peter snapped out of thought, nearly jumping up alongside. For once he believed...

Taking his phone out from his pocket with a shake of his head, Peter read the caller id. Elizabeth.

He let it go to voicemail.

Now that he was roused out of thought, Peter stood up and walked into the kitchen, pulling out of the cork from the bottle and pouring himself an overgenerous glass of wine. His hands shook from lack of use, spilling a little of its contents upon the counter, but he didn't care. He drained his glass in a go. Filling himself a second helping, Peter unsteadily made his way towards the table when he noticed it.

The cavity in the leg of the table. It was a cavity only he'd known about, not even Mozzie, even though that had been an accidental stumble upon during one of their cases a couple of years ago. Peter quickly slid his fingers through the gap, his fingers grasping the object hidden and pulling it out with unwanted flourish.

Out came a pen drive.

Mind shooting into overdrive while hope suddenly burning in his heart like a flame, Peter searched around for a laptop frantically before he found it on the side table. Bringing the device to life and connecting the drive, Peter found a file marked with his name. Heart in his mouth, the words 'I knew it was con!' at the edge of his tongue, he opened the video in it with baited breath.

Up popped Neal in what Peter remembered was the same suit he'd worn to dinner last night.

"Peter," began Neal, looking every bit his usual self with his trademark Caffrey-grin, "If you've found this, then I must tell you that like always, you've lived up to my expectations. Because I knew you'd find this. But then again if you've found this, it does mean that the inevitable has happened too. But hey, there were hardly a few ways this could have played out, right?"

Peter shook his head in a vehement no, but the video played on regardless.

"I didn't really know how else to leave this for you," continued Neal, suddenly looking like a school-kid caught in mischief. Peter smiled in spite of himself. "I'm not good with goodbyes, like you know pretty well by now and I think you'd have an attack if you heard me get soppy. Definitely not your definition of "cowboy up", he chuckled with air quotes, before taking in a long sigh. "But I guess I owe you this."

He owed him a lot more than this, Peter thought angrily before calming the storm in his mind.

"I don't know how everything is going to end with this case, but there's only one thing certain for me - by the end of this I'm free, one way or the other. It's been an amazing run in these four years, a lot more dramatic too than I'd originally anticipated," laughed Neal before turning sincere, "but it's been worth it. And it wouldn't have been any of this without you."

Neal now stared directly at Peter. He couldn't meet eyes with the recording.

"Peter, I don't think we talk about our equation enough but in the tale of FBI and criminal," Peter flinched harshly at the word criminal, as though singed. "...-this is the happiest we both get to be. You've been the only one to see good in me, to take me on not just as a challenge but to genuinely try to reform me and give me a real life. You've risked a lot more than you should have, a lot more than even loved ones don't do for their own," said Neal with a sudden bitterness and Peter knew what, or rather who the young man was thinking about. It left a bitter taste in his mouth before he realized he was missing out on what Neal was saying.

"...-and repeatedly at that. You may have even regretted taking me on at one point in time-" Peter gasped at the revelation, instantly reminded of the context this was spoken in. Neal wasn't supposed to know this and yet he did, driving Peter a little lower into his chair. "-but you've come through for me every single time. You've been breathing down my neck like a mother hen since forever, but you've always had my back whenever I needed you. Be it against criminals or even the FBI," he added and Peter smiled wistfully as memories washed ashore. He drained his glass a little more, thankful he'd brought the bottle with him on the table alongside. But Neal was ever oblivious as he spoke on.

"The base of any partnership is trust. And even though it's always been a shaky base between us, the one thing that's kept us going is faith," Peter was pulled back to what Neal had said during the conference, "...-and even today, as you sit here watching this, I know that you've stood up to my faith that you'd hunt for me even from the beyond. But in spite of everything we've been through, I want you to know that there's no one I'd trust more with my life than I do you."

Peter felt his lips go dry at the unintended pun and his chest grow heavy once again. His hopes of this being Neal Caffrey's greatest con washed away with every word he spoke on. This was a confession tape, agreed, but not the kind he was expecting. It was of a man who knew his number was up and that made Peter want to yank his hair in broken frustration. But Neal continued after a small gap, perhaps banking on the fact that Peter would need a moment to absorb it all. As though on cue, his face now wore with a smile but not the usual one. It was a genuine smile.

Peter still refused to make eye contact.

"This case of ours together is very well the last one but there's no other way I'd have it than closing the biggest case of our tenure together. Neal Caffrey out with a bang! I'm sure that this case will blow your career wide open, that job in D.C. just the beginning and the best part being without any CIs attached. It's everything you've worked for all your life and everything you deserve to achieve."

An involuntarily gasp escaped Peter's lips, too dazed by the simultaneous laps of loss and pain lapping over his senses to take in anything else.

"I just hope by the end of this that Keller gets what he deserves. It'd be my way of apologizing to El for everything that son of a bitch put her through. It may be water under the bridge about the treasure, but I do have to apologize to her for a lot of things the two of you have been through because of me. She's an amazing woman with a big heart and for that I will always be grateful. And I'm sure baby Burke is going to be born to the world's greatest parents."

Neal stopped at this point, the same distant look in his eyes making a return. Peter knew what was running through his mind, suddenly flashed by the sour treatment he'd given his friend for the hell he and El had gone through during his time in prison. Had he ever stopped to think what Neal had been through having been betrayed by the same man again, costing him everything he held dear to himself?

Never.

Peter had the sudden urge to drown himself in his own shame before Neal's voice drew back his attention.

"Peter, I have a thousand things to apologize for. Even though I've often been mad at you about your lack of trust, especially after your prison stay, but I don't think you were ever wrong when it came to your instincts. I wish you could have understood my reasoning about whatever happened with Hagen and the forged evidence, but I guess we're both on the opposite sides of this fine line of law. But I just want you to know - it was never about conning you and trying to prove my way was the right way. It was just about giving a wife back her husband, willing to pay any price for it."

Hearing Neal say the exact words only ate at him even more. Neal had paid the price for his loyalty. This was not the end he deserved. When the video went silent, Peter feared for one moment that it was done with until Neal spoke again. Peter childishly wished the video never ended.

"Above all the apologies though, I have only gratitude. For the life you gave me here and for the family you let me be a part of. It's definitely been more fun than any prison sentence has the right to be, but you were also the only one to give me a damming good reason to leave behind my old life and settle into the one with a view of the Chrysaler Building and stepping off onto the 21st Floor every day. Sure, this life may have not had the thrill or rush of a con, but working with you and working up your nerves has an adrenaline kick of its own," grinned Neal and Peter couldn't help but smile again. His heart ached terribly and yet he couldn't express any of it beyond the deadened weight his shoulders now bore.

As though reading his line of thought, Neal continued.

"I've been living on borrowed time for far too long, Peter, pushing my luck every now and then. It was time to severe from all the masters controlling me and to make a bid for farewell. And it was only my decision to make. So don't let the separation anxiety turn into a guilt ride," he added, and Peter was uncharacteristically reminded of Rachel Turner. Apparently those had been her last words to Neal as per his statement.

But Neal didn't linger upon that point for long, and neither did Peter's thoughts, nearly dreading every pause to be the last.

"Take care of Elizabeth and baby Burke and make sure he knows all about the man who created havoc in his father's life. Also do please return all of Byron's suits and fedoras to June and give her my love. She's been just fantastic. And Mozzie can have my entire wine collection and anything else I possess. I've left behind a couple of paintings that you'll have to courier to Sara, it'll help her in the cold cases against me..." Neal chuckled awkwardly before his features softened. Peter could have sworn his eyes had moistened. "But really... just break the news to her gently, okay?" requested Neal, his expression now somewhere between remorse and guilt. Peter knew how much Sara had actually meant to him before they had to part ways. And after the fiasco with Rachel, Neal seemed to have gone back to reminiscing about his times back with Sara a lot more frequently than he would have admitted.

"Break the news to all three women that way," Neal added, eyeing Peter with such worry that Peter looked away again, his head in his hands. He felt giddy and sick, but he couldn't stop. Neither his thoughts nor the video.

"There's a couple of paintings that I've already set in motion that should reach your place in a few days. They're my own works so you can see fit whatever you want to do with it. And I guess whatever you find on me in person will go into FBI evidence bags. Doesn't paint a pretty picture, but I guess it is what it is. Atleast this time I'm somewhere where even you can't catch me, although this tape can very well be your keepsake from my end," laughed Neal and Peter looked up in horror at just how casually thrown his words were. It felt a lot like as though his heart had been stabbed, the cruel mocking making his eyes smart.

But Neal seemed to have been beyond petty jibes. Peter couldn't pinpoint whether the young conman was being cold practical or death-bed emotional, neither could he predict whether it made him feel better or worse about everything that'd just happened.

"Before this gets stretched too long though, I guess let's wrap this tale up. I don't know whether I do get to tell you this in living, but we've both come a long way from agent-criminal to being partners. But above all, you gave me an identity I've never had before. If I had the chance to do everything all over again, there's not a single thing I'd change. Perhaps make fewer mistakes with you and maybe ask for a bigger radius, but there's nothing in there I regret. Because the journey just makes the end for me even more memorable."

The ends justifying the means. Damn you Caffrey, was all Peter could drunkenly think.

"Thank you for being my best friend. This shouldn't really come as a surprise to you though, I guess we've both known for a while even though we're both too proud and stubborn to admit it," laughed Neal again awkwardly, his sigh this time a lot more pronounced. "Mozzie did know I guess since the time I chose you over the treasure. But for now, it's time to stop running," said Neal, a sudden finality in his tone that caught Peter's attention. Peter looked up, aghast, knowing what was about to happen. And even before it did, Neal had the last phrase in while putting on his fedora.

"It's time to say au revoir."

Somewhere between the blacking of the screen, the thick, suspended silence in the room for the minutes to come and the thunderous shattering of the Chardonnay, Peter knew from taking one look into Neal Caffrey's glazed blue gaze that he had willingly faded into the night not just to protect him, but to protect everyone he loved.

And no keepsake was ever going to bring him back.

Constructive criticism will be more than welcome and sorry for any typos. :D :D