This takes place immediately after Point Blank. I know, its a little after the fact but it was something I wrote on my Win98 and I just got it onto my netbook recently. Sorry if its not as polished as it could be, but I wanted to get something posted and this was the best option(at least I can admit I wrote it without wanting to hide. Yes, some of the other fics I wrote on my Win98 and got onto this computer were that bad)
Once again, sorry for any consistency goofs(and remember this was written before Burke's Seven aired). Everything I'm going to get off my 98 is going to be as close to the original document as possible(as in I'm only fixing typos and such)
There is no excuse for Home. When I said updates might get sketchy I didn't think I meant I wouldn't be updating in over a month. Sadly, I think its time to declare it officially on hiatus. :'( Obviously me being depressed is not good for my writing.
Somehow, Neal could believe it. Of course Kate had wanted to blow up the plane. They would have gotten off in time, and run off into the sunset. Started a new life. Maybe even have let Mozzie in on it.
And yet, something told him that it was off, that she would have come up with another way to get out from under the thumb of the FBI. She hated violence just as much as he did, didn't she? And yet she had gone after Peter with a gun that Neal of all people knew she could shoot.
But hadn't he gone after Fowler armed with the intention of killing the man?
There's a difference between loving the idea of someone and loving who they are. Elizabeth's words ran through his mind as he stared at the ceiling above his bed.
You'd better hope Kate's the same girl you think she is. Alex's words rang with the truth, too. He had been away from Kate for three years before she dumped him. How was he to know if she had found someone else?
And what had that phone call meant? Why should it have mattered if Peter showed up? He wouldn't have stopped them, and Kate should have known that. And what 'plan'? The one to blow up the plane?
Neal stood up. No sleep would come tonight, of all nights. Mozzie was in the hospital. Fowler wasn't behind the whole Kate scenario anymore. And Peter…. Well, who knew what Peter thought that the moment? There had been genuine hurt in his eyes and he took the gun from Neal and ordered Diana to cuff him. Yet he had let Neal go home without too much of a lecture, just those sad eyes.
Neal hurriedly pulled on some nicer clothes than what he wore to sleep in. It wasn't too late to go see Peter, was it? His conscience had never bothered him this much. Not enough that he wanted to go apologize, anyway. But there was just something about Peter's expression, the hurt, the disappointment.
He slipped his phone into his pocket after turning it on. It was only eleven. He considered calling ahead, but decided it wasn't necessary. Peter would get the call when he left his radius. Besides, Peter would talk him out of it, and right now, Neal really just needed to talk to someone, and in person. If only Moz wasn't in the hospital… he would definitely be asleep, not to mention heavily drugged. And Alex… well, she just wouldn't understand.
Neal grabbed enough money to pay the taxi fare and silently slipped out of his darkened room, thankful that Bugsley didn't bark at him anymore. Even after the anklet incident, the dog trusted him.
Neal knew how to get down the stairs without making a sound, and June kept all the hinges well oiled. He wouldn't disturb her, which was good. She didn't need to be up just because he had insomnia. She could keep reading or watching TV or whatever she did up in her room without knowing he was leaving.
He opened the front door and stepped outside into the warm summer evening. In another life he might have been planning a heist, or been at a party. Or at least could have been with Kate.
He shook his head, trying to clear it of these thoughts. It would get him nowhere… yeah, he needed to talk to Peter, or El. She always knew what to say. The sooner he got across town, he decided, the better.
He hailed a cab and climbed in, giving the driver Peter's address.
The man grinned. "You're up a little late. Going home from your girlfriend's place?"
Neal laughed, the sound forced. Little by little, he felt his carefully built façade crumbling. "Yeah, something like that," he muttered. If only she wasn't dead, he added mentally.
He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the window. The sooner he got to Peter's, the better.
Peter poured another cup of coffee. He would be tossing all night, but who cares? It wasn't like he planned on going to bed. When he got insomnia like this, he could be up all night. Of course, he only got insomnia like this when Caffrey was involved, and then it never ended well. He always ended up spending the night in the dining room with the lights on.
He sensed, rather than heard his beautiful wife come up behind him. "Thinking of Neal?" she asked, putting her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder.
"Yeah," he admitted. There was no reason to lie, and even if he did his wife would see through it.
"Of course," she said. "Otherwise you would be up in bed with me."
Peter smiled. "He couldn't count the number of times she had said that to him.
However, the next thing she said was new, varying from the usual conversation they had at this time of night if he wasn't in bed.
"You're worried about him," she said gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Peter shrugged. "You don't really need to be bothered by it, do you?"
She laughed quietly. "You know, I already know the details. I listened to the rant the second you came home."
"Really?" Peter sounded genuinely surprised. "I told you that?"
El laughed again "You're tired, Peter," she told him. "The first thing out of your mouth was how Neal was being stupid and impulsive again." She paused. "And by talk about it, I meant with Neal, too."
Peter shook his head. "The kid will be asleep. No use waking him up."
But no matter what he said, he knew that El was right. He really needed to talk to Caffrey. But it could wait until tomorrow.
Elizabeth straightened up and put her hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them. "Honey, he's been through hell today. He's had it worse than you. The only way he's asleep is if he's taken sleeping pills."
Peter slowly relaxed. "True," he admitted. "But he could be busy, or… or…"
Sadly, he couldn't think of a way to finish that thought
Elizabeth sighed. "Honey, you need to talk to him. Call him or something."
Peter recognized that she was right. He reached for his phone, when on cue it began to buzz.
He almost didn't need to look at the caller ID to see that it was someone from the FBI calling.
"Peter Burke, FBI," he answered automatically, even though the person calling probably already knew this.
"Caffrey's out of his radius. Is he with you?" Diana asked.
Peter didn't even wonder why she was up at this hour monitoring Caffrey, or why she wasn't calling on her cell. Without knowing why, he lied for the younger man, almost reflexively. "Yeah, he's with me. He said he wanted to talk about something so I picked him up from June's."
"Okay, boss. See you in the morning." Diana hung up.
Peter put his phone back on the table and swore. "Why did I just lie for Caffrey?" he asked his wife. "Why didn't I tell her that he was off on his own and needed someone to go get him?"
Elizabeth thought for a moment before answering. "Because," she finally said, "you know he's coming here to talk to you. And, despite your better judgment, at you put it, you trust him."
Peter grimaced, mostly because he knew it was true. Now there was nothing to do but wait for Caffrey to come to him.
Neal watched the streets fly by at an unreal speed, especially for New York traffic. Maybe he dosed, maybe he was just lost in thought, but he seemed to get to Peter's house in only a handful of minutes, even though he knew that they had spent at least ten minutes waiting for lights to change.
He paid the bill and climbed out in front of Peter's house. He walked up the steps to the front door, and got so far as to raise his hand to ring the bell. But something stopped him.
Hadn't Peter been mad enough to have Diana put him in cuffs? Hadn't he threatened to send him back to prison, something that hadn't happened for a few months as Peter began to step into those little gray areas and grudgingly began to accept that the world couldn't be seen in black and white?
He stood there on the dimly lit front step, debating silently whether or not to ring the bell. eventually he came to the only possible way out and pressed the little button, hearing the unnaturally cheery tune play
Peter threw the door open almost immediately, making Neal jump.
"Damn, Neal. Do you know what time it is?" Peter asked, his words not matching the relief in his tone at all.
Neal shrugged. "I needed to talk," he said quietly. "I needed to apologize."
Peter couldn't think of a response, other than the usual 'I could send you back to prison for this'. But that didn't seem like the right thing to say. Instead, he stood there silently until El came up behind him.
She smiled warmly at Neal and gently pulled Peter out of the doorway. "Neal, would you like to come in?" she asked, not even inquiring why he was here at this time of night.
He nodded slowly and stepped into Peter's house, closing the door behind him. El led the way to the kitchen, and he followed her without really thinking, Peter trailing along behind him.
She seated both of the men and got them each a cup of coffee. Neal held his, just letting the warmth seep through the mug and into his fingers, while her husband sipped at his, glowering at the younger man.
The silence stretched on, each of them waiting for the other to speak. El was about to intervene, when Neal said, almost too low to hear, "Peter, I'm sorry. I was stupid, and I didn't think, and…"
The end trailed off.
Peter slowly nodded. "I know," he said after another silent gap, taking in the trapped way Caffrey looked around, and the way he sat perfectly still, so out of character for him.
Neal took the response, drained of all emotion, as a good thing. "I'm stupid when it comes to Kate," he admitted. "And I really thought Fowler killed her… but…"
Peter made eye contact with the young man he had taken into his custody on that day that now seemed like millennia ago. "I thought Fowler was behind it too," he admitted. "But now… Well, the plot thickens." He paused, and after El shot him a dirty look, he added, "I understand."
Neal felt the barriers around his emotions falling, slipping. Kate was gone. Mozzie had been shot. And suddenly he couldn't help it. The carefully contained tears fell down his face and he sobbed silently.
And the Peter was there, giving him something to cling to, a shoulder to cry on. Awkwardly, the older man patted his back. And Neal cried his heart out.
A few minutes later, he pulled away, embarrassed.
El took one look at him and pushed a box of Kleenex over. "Neal, honey, stay here for the night." It wasn't a question.
Neal blew his nose and nodded. "Okay," he whispered. To Peter, he added, Thank you."
The older man nodded, knowing they both felt better. "I understand," he repeated.
Silently, he vowed to get to the bottom of this. The man pulling the strings wouldn't walk.
Not after this.
As usual, let me know what you think, and I will completely understand if you hated it ;)