Author's Note: This story has been proofread by the awesome Winterstar/Dmk.

Reassigned

Neal's shocked face is more than he can bear. Peter feels his heart squash as he reads the distress in his CI's wide eyes. A distress that he knows he reflects. He opens his mouth to say something, but he can't. A wave of anxiety is about to overwhelm. But he doesn't want to melt down in front of his team and friends, so Peter rushes to the elevator. The world is blurry and muffled. Heavy and thick. Peter can feel its weight on his shoulder, the pressure on his body. Yet, he feels empty.

As the doors to the elevator open and he steps in, Peter is vaguely aware of Neal calling him back, but he knows that if he faces him again, he won't be able to retain the tears pressing at the corner of his eyes.

Peter doesn't remember how he got home. El isn't there yet, but he can't recall what she was supposed to do today. Satchmo welcomes him with his usual glee, but Peter barely notices the dog as he takes off his shoes and jacket. Stumbling to the sofa, he crashes down. He grabs a cushion and squeezes it hard against his chest. Troubled by his master's distress, Satchmo gently approaches, and rest his head on Peter's knees. He pats the dog's head and finally, he let the tears flow.

In silent, Peter cries.

All the tension of the past few weeks crashes on him all at once, and his mind randomly rambles between Kramer, Neal, Hughes, Collins…

He cries for the mentor he has lost, the friend he thought he had lost. He cries for the fugitive, for the joy of finding his friend again, being home and full again.

For weeks, he had tried to keep it together. Keeping his head down, as Hughes had asked, just doing his job. Not quite forgetting about Caffrey though, and he knows that Jones and Diana were not fooled. He wasn't as good as Neal at pretending, and his agents had caught him broodily daydreaming more than once. He didn't tell them, and they didn't ask. And yet, they had been totally supportive, assuming that if Peter wanted Neal back, Neal had to come back. They even seemed happy yesterday to see Neal back. Everything seemed so perfectly normal yesterday, the whole team around Neal's desk. Peter felt so happy yesterday…

So why does it have to go all to hell again?

Peter hates himself for feeling so miserable but he is tired of fighting. He doesn't want to fight anymore. All he wants is do his job – but for that, he'll have to work his way back to it, and that is going to be a long fight, once again.

Why?

Why did they do that to him? Why can't they just let him work? And why now, when everything was falling back in place? They were doing fine, Neal and him. They were working great. So why taking them apart? Why can't they just leave them alone and do their job?

Peter startles as his phone buzzes in his pocket. He takes it out and looks at the caller ID. Neal. Peter's heart misses a beat. He disregards the call. He doesn't want to talk. Not now.

Tomorrow he will. Tomorrow, he'll think of a plan. They can't keep him out of the White Collar unit forever… But today, all Peter wants is to go back to the island, with Neal, running a con, catching a most wanted criminal, getting tipsy practicing bartending with his friend – Friends.

It was only two days ago, and it already seems like a long lost paradise.

He vigorously sweeps the tears with his sleeves, and grabs his phone.

"Eh hon, what's up?" El's cheerful voice warms his heart a bit.

"El… Are you… Am I disturbing you?" His voice is unsteady, and El catches it.

"Peter, what's wrong?"

He can't say it. Not over the phone.

"Nothing. Just… Can you come home?"

There is a short silent and Peter can almost picture El frowning. "Sure, I was just window shopping anyway. I'll be there soon. I love you, hon," she adds.

Peter smiles, "I love you too, hon," and he hangs up.

The world can go to hell, as long as El will be on his side, he will still be a lucky man. Peter stands up and goes to the kitchen. He grabs a beer in the fridge and starts making dinner. Tonight, he will have a nice comforting night with his wife. Tomorrow he will start fighting again.