So there is a very large chance that I've been binge watching White Collar (I'm almost done with season 3 so no spoilers please!) On the plus side new fandom to write in! Yay! ^_^
Warning: Tell me if you see any and I'll add them.
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Staring at the empty glass in front of him Neal sighed softly before reaching for another bottle of wine. He had been sitting at the table drinking since he got home from the F.B.I. Which was more than a few hours ago if the now rising sun was anything to go by.
There was no way around the fact that he was drunk. Not drunk enough, but still drunk. It was a good thing that he didn't have to do anything for the next few days. Unless they decided to call him in on the weekend again. He really hoped that didn't happen.
The thing he didn't quite understand though was why he was drinking so much. He had tried to come up with some kind of explanation for it, but he had nothing. All he knew was that he wanted to forget everything that had happened today. And since it was a normal day there was no reason for it.
Sighing he poured himself another glass knowing it was a horrible idea. He should go to bed and sleep off the alcohol. The last thing he wanted to do was stop though. At least not stop before he got so drunk that he was able to pass out. It was very bad that that sounded so nice.
Picking up the glass he started to stand up only for his legs to go out from underneath him causing him to go crashing to the floor. A voice in the back of his head hoped that June didn't hear the noise that he was making. He didn't want anyone to see him like this.
Tears pricked at his eyes as he curled in on himself. God, how he hated whenever he felt like this. Especially when he had no idea why he was feeling it. This was not him in any way whatsoever and he had no idea what to do. And no one that he could turn to.
He knew that he could go to his phone and call Mozzie or Peter, but he didn't want to involve them in whatever was going on. He also, for the first time in years, truly wanted to be alone. If only so he could figure out what the hell was going on with him.
In all truth and actuality, he felt as if there was a hole inside his stomach that someone had filled with cement. It was a feeling he had only felt once before in his life. When he found out that Kate was with someone else and he had no chance with her.
Which made no sense. He knew that he was never going to be able to be with her. As much as it pained him to admit she was gone and he was never going to get her back. He had lost everything that he had ever dreamed of having and he would probably never find someone else to share that life with.
He actually felt more than a little sick at the very idea of sharing that future with anyone other than the woman he loved. No one was ever going to be able to fill that spot other than her. He really didn't want anyone else to even attempt it.
His stomach churned angrily causing him to scramble to his feet and into the bathroom. Knees banging unceremoniously against he hard tiles he felt himself throw up everything he had eaten that day. Most of which happened to be the wine he had been mainlining.
Normally he was smarter than this. He had learned the hard way that being off your game lead people to take advantage of you and in his life of work there was always someone looking to take advantage. You had to be smart if you wanted to survive.
That was the first lesson that he had learned. One that Mozzie kept repeating to him even after all their years. He really wasn't all that much younger than the other man. Though you'd never know that if you based their relationship on how people treated them.
Clenching his eyes shut so tightly he saw spots he tried to stop that line of thinking. Now was not the time to sit and think about the past. Especially if the past made him want to go back to drinking. Actually, almost everything made him want to drink right now.
Without meaning to his eyes slide shut as his head moved down to rest on the toilet seat. It was disgusting and painful, but the cool porcelain felt so good on his overheated skin that he couldn't help sighing happily his body relaxing. It wasn't long before he was falling into a deep sleep.
"Neal!" a voice yelled causing the man to jerk awake the back of his head to hit the side of the sink, "Neal, where are you?"
Opening his mouth to say something the con-man was cut off by his stomach rebelling once again. There was nothing but bile coming up at the point, but that didn't mean he could stop gagging. All too soon he was dry-heaving his entire body shaking as tears streamed down his face.
A gentle hand came to rub his back as he tried to get back under control. It took longer than he liked, but soon he was able to move so he was leaning against the sink. Looking up he saw the worried gaze of Mozzie staring down at him and felt a wave of shame fill him.
Pulling his knees to his chest he buried his face in them not wanting his friend to see him like that. It was completely stupid since the man had seen him worse, but he still didn't want to face him. He didn't much want to face anyone, but really not Mozzie.
"Neal?" the older man questioned his voice soft his hand never stopping rubbing his back.
"Don't," Neal muttered not bothering to lift his head, "Just go."
"You know I'm not going to lave you to wallow. Come on, up you go."
"No, I'm not… Please, Moz, just let me..."
"Let you what? Go back to destroying your liver? Not happening, kid."
Neal tried to fight his friend for a moment, but he had always been deceptively strong. It didn't take much for the older man to have him stripped to his underwear and under the blankets of his bed. From there he watched his friend clean up the mess he made earlier.
Swallowing roughly he turned away from the other man not wanting to face him. It was stupid to think that he could simply ignore Mozzie, but he still had to try. If only he could figure out what it was that was making him act so oddly.
"Tell me you didn't drink off of this last night," Mozzie sighed walking around the room, "You're smarter than this, kid."
A snort fell from him before he could stop himself. Behind him he heard the man stop moving. It took a lot to get Moz to be angry but it anyone could do it Neal could. Though the last thing he wanted to do was make his friend upset with him.
"Neal," Mozzie spoke after a moment his voice firmer than he had heard before, "What the hell is going on with you?"
"Nothing," the con-man muttered his face buried in his pillow.
"Don't lie to me. I'm not the Suit. Tell me what's going on with you."
"Moz, please."
"No! I'm not going to sit here and watch you kill yourself."
"Then leave!"
Before Neal knew what he was doing he was up off the bed glaring down at the older man. It was odd but the other man was one of the few people that Neal trusted completely. He even trusted the man more than he had trusted Kate.
Moz was in a league all on his own. Maybe it was because of how long he had known the man, but Neal felt as if the only person he never had to worry about betraying him was his friend. It had always felt nice to know that someone was on his side no matter what.
The man had been the one constant in his life for so long that it was impossible to imagine it without him. There was always a voice in his head that told him that he would have to one day. That he would do something to make his friend walk away for good.
All he had to do was look in the past to see that no one stayed for very long. Everyone had always ended up leaving him. No matter how hard he tried or how long he went looking for them they were gone and there was nothing that he could do about it.
He tried so hard with Kate. He had spent so much time trying to get the woman to be part of his life. At the beginning it had been for the con. Then he fell in love. Something that Moz had tried to warn him against. Mostly because falling in love with a mark, or anyone around a mark, ended horribly.
She was everything that he had ever wanted. She symbolized everything that he was working for. Not hat he didn't love what eh did, but he had always had a much bigger plan for himself. It might be stupid, but he had always wanted the apple pie life.
They were wrong. Every person that had ever told him that he was smart was kidding themselves. He wasn't smart. He simply was good at convincing people that he was someone that he wasn't. There were some days he ever questioned if he knew himself anymore.
Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood Neal tried to stop himself from sobbing out loud. He didn't want Mozzie to question him any further on what was wrong. Mostly because he was no longer sure he was in complete control over his mouth.
A low sigh fell from the other man causing Neal to clench his eyes shut once again. He expected to hear the door open and shut behind his friend as he left. He really wouldn't blame Moz. He was trying to push him away. Trying to push everyone away.
Then he felt the edge of the bed sink under his friends weight. Without thinking blue eyes opened looking up at Mozzie. He looked so sad in that moment that Neal couldn't help but attempt to turn away. Before he could get far though a hand gripped his arm stopping him.
"Please, Moz," Neal tried his voice barely over a whisper.
"No," Mozzie responded glaring down at him, "What is going on in that head of yours?"
"Nothing. Everything. I'm so tired, Mozzie."
"So you drink."
"I don't know if you get this, but I have nothing anymore. Look around. This is it for me."
Pulling away from the older man Neal moved slowly so he was standing up once more. His movements were stiff and almost at a glacier pace as he walked around the space. Looking around at his belongings he felt his heart sink as he fell into once of the chairs.
Even with all of the things that normally brought him at least some joy around him he felt empty. He was the type of person that liked things. Art, clothing, possessions, and everything in between he loved them all. That didn't mean he didn't like people.
The truth was that despite how good he was with people he preferred his art. There was a peace there that he had never been able to find somewhere else. Art was his safe place. The one place that he never had to question. If looking at his supplies didn't bring him peace? He didn't know what to do.
"This is it, Moz," Neal laughed humorlessly, "All of my lives work is reduced to this room and most of it isn't mine. I have nothing. This is it for me."
"You still have me," Mozzie offered walking over to him.
"Like I thought I had Kate? Or Keller? You know how close I was to him before everything happened. Now both of them are gone and I'll never be able to get them back."
"I've been around for a lot longer than either of them and I'm not going anywhere."
Chuckling sadly Neal looked up and saw the other man giving him what he guessed was supposed to be a reassuring smile. He couldn't help smile slightly himself seeing that. It was nice having the man attempt to help him feel better.
"You're having an off day, kid," Mozzie continued after a moment shrugging his shoulders calmly, "Everyone gets them. You just need to get some rest and relax."
"Peter's probably going to call me soon," Neal shook his head.
"Then tell him that you're going to burn out if you don't have some off time. He won't want that."
"He wouldn't..."
"He's going to have to. Now get your ass back to bed and sleep. Take the weekend. Trust me. You'll feel better."
Nodding his head slowly the con-man stood up and went back to his bed. Like the first time his friend helped him under the covers. A smile tugged on his lips when he thought about how much Mozzie hated situations like this yet had decided to stay for him.
"Thanks, Mozzie," Neal whispered as his friend went to leave.
"Just don't tell anyone," the older man replied not looking at him as the door was opened, "I have a reputation."