St. Louis. Saturday afternoon, June 1988.
Ellen Parker walked into Blockbuster Video with Danny. She hoped that a pizza and movie would keep the boy entertained and distract his mother, who was always depressed this time of year. June was the anniversary of when the three of them had gone into Witness Protection, meaning it was the anniversary of when Danny's father had confessed to murder and when Danny's mother had filed for divorce, ending a marriage that had also started in June.
Ten-year-old Danny was zipping between the new releases and old favorites. He was supposed to pick one movie, but Ellen could tell from his speculative glance up at her that he was going to start bargaining for two. That's when Star Wars caught her attention, and she picked it up without thinking.
"Mom never lets me rent that," Danny said, his blue eyes wide in surprise.
"I know," Ellen said, "but maybe it's time." Maybe it was time to stop helping Deirdre forget the past, and make her confront some memories, instead.
Deirdre Brooks was clearly surprised at their selection when they brought it back to her house. "You know I don't like that movie."
"What I know," Ellen countered, "is that you and James both loved that movie, and you're avoiding anything that reminds you of him, especially around your wedding anniversary. It's a great movie, and Danny will love it, too. Let him share that with you."
Deirdre shot a distressed glance at Danny, who was listening avidly. She tried to avoid talking about James, with the result that any reference to him was fascinating to her son. She wanted to be annoyed with Ellen, but wallowing in negative memories was getting tiresome. It didn't help that she'd spun a story about James being a tragic hero, and now Danny also associated his father with death and sadness. Would it hurt to relive some happier times? "You're right," she said. "Let's order that pizza and celebrate my anniversary properly."
Danny did love the movie, becoming so engrossed that he forgot to eat any popcorn. They watched it through twice, and by the end of the second round he leaned heavily against Deirdre, his body tired and relaxed, but his mind too busy to sleep. Mother and son had the same dark hair, but her eyes were hazel.
"Can I have a light saber?" Danny asked as the movie rewound.
"We can put that on your Christmas list," Deirdre said absently, her mind drifting back to when she and James had first watched this movie, and he had asked if their son would be...
"… Luke Skywalker or Han Solo?"
"What?" Deirdre was startled, bringing her mind back to Danny in the here and now.
"For Halloween. Should I go as Luke or Han?"
"Definitely Luke."
"Why?" Danny asked.
"Because I don't know how to make a Han Solo costume." She squeezed Danny tightly for a moment. "Time for bed."
"If I'm Luke for Halloween, I'll need a light saber before Christmas."
"True."
"If I had a dog, I'd name him Chewbacca."
"And he'd chew on the furniture and we'd call him Chewy. God, you are so much like your dad sometimes." Deirdre felt Danny go still, holding his breath in the hopes that she'd say a little more about James. "Did I tell you we met at a movie?"
Danny shook his head. "Star Wars?"
"No, we were already married when that one came out. In fact, we went to see it for our first anniversary. We'd been talking about starting a family, and after we saw Star Wars, James asked if I would want a son to be more like Luke or Han. And then he said he wanted a dog named Chewy."
"You had a dog?"
"No, our landlord didn't allow pets. Chewy-the-dog remained entirely a figment of our imaginations, and our furniture remained safe until you came along to draw on it."
"Did you want me to be a Luke or a Han?"
"Maybe I wanted a Leia," Deirdre teased.
"Ew."
"I wanted you to be you."
Danny pondered that for a while and then asked, "Was it a good movie? The one you saw when you met?"
Deirdre laughed, aware that she rarely so much as smiled these days when she thought about James. "No, it was awful. Some friends of his wanted to see it, and they invited some friends of mine, and that's how we were both there. Afterward we talked about how terrible it was, and James said we needed to find a better movie to erase the memory of the one we had just seen. James and I went to another movie the next weekend, and that was our first date. Enough questions. You really are going to bed now."
Ellen had stayed silent during the conversation between Danny and Deirdre, but now she stood up. "I should head home."
"Would you stay a little longer?" Deirdre asked. "There's… That is… I'd like to talk to you."
For all that Deirdre avoided talking about the past, she dwelled on it more than Ellen did. But now Ellen took a moment to reminisce while waiting for Deirdre to put Danny to bed.
It was the autumn of 1975. The Witness Protection alias of Ellen Parker didn't exist yet. She was still using her real name: Kathryn Hill. She worked in the Metro DC Police Department as a detective, and her partner was a man named James Bennett. They had been working together for a month, both newly promoted to detective and eager to make names for themselves.
Kathryn had tread carefully with James. She wanted to make it clear that their relationship was focused on work, because she wasn't going to risk her career or reputation by getting romantically involved with anyone in the department. With that clear, she was ready to relent a little from the all-business front and become friends. So when her brother Keith organized one of his movie-watching nights, she invited James along.
Keith was stationed at Langley, and always invited some of his Air Force buddies to these events. This time his buddies included David Caffrey, who brought his sister Meredith – the woman now known as Deirdre Brooks.
The movie was truly awful. It had gotten terrible reviews and when Kathryn invited him, James asked why anyone would want to see it. Kathryn explained her brother's philosophy: you see the bad ones to make you appreciate the great ones. Honestly, Keith loved movies so much that he thought you could learn something interesting about cinematography from any film. Keith was already getting involved in making military training films, and talked about moving to Hollywood when he left the Air Force.
After suffering through the movie, everyone walked over to a bar to complain about it. And that's where James and Meredith bonded over their opposition to Keith's philosophy. Some movies had no value and should be avoided, they decided. And soon they started going out to good movies.
When they weren't working cases, James was constantly telling Kathryn about Meredith. He called her Merry, because she was such a happy, light-hearted soul with an irresistible grin. Merry, he told Kathryn, loved art and they often went to museums if there wasn't a movie they wanted to see. She had gone to college to study art history, while putting herself through school as a server for a catering company. Then one night the caterers needed help in the kitchen and she realized she loved cooking, too. She dropped out of college and went to culinary school. Then the catering company's owner asked for Merry's help with organizing events, and now she was taking business courses between meetings with clients.
Some of those clients were major players in DC, and Merry didn't seem the least bit daunted when meeting with them. Turns out her parents had worked at several US embassies over the years. Merry knew many ambassadors and other political personages from her youth, and that helped the catering company win their business.
Only three months after meeting Merry, James proposed, and they started planning a wedding. By then Kathryn knew how impulsive James could be, and she wasn't surprised at how quickly James had moved. She had reservations about a marriage between a blue-collar cop and an internationally-traveled daughter of privilege. A little research and conversation with Keith told Kathryn the Caffrey clan was well-off and Merry's father was being groomed to become an ambassador himself. But James and Merry were happy, and didn't mind that they came from such different backgrounds. Maybe they were on unequal ground financially and socially, but they were both bright, good people with many interests in common. Despite her moneyed background, Merry had worked to pay her own way through college, and that said a lot to Kathryn about the woman's values. So Kathryn quashed her concerns and offered her sincere congratulations on the engagement.
It wasn't until right before the wedding, in June of 1976, that James expressed any fears to Kathryn about marrying into the Caffrey family. The size and expense of the wedding Edmund Caffrey was giving his youngest child had brought James clarity about exactly how privileged Merry's early life had been. He wondered if eventually she would resent living on his meager salary. Kathryn reassured him that Merry was a smart woman who understood what he could afford, and reminded him that Merry had her own job and would be contributing to their income.
A year went by before James brought up the issue of money again. His first wedding anniversary was coming up, and the in-laws were lavishing them with gifts, probably prompted by the news that the couple were planning to start a family. James couldn't think of a worthy gift for his wife, at least not anything he could afford. Merry told him that it made more sense to save their money for the hoped-for-baby, and that she'd love to celebrate by going to a movie. People were raving about Star Wars, and wouldn't it be fun to have a movie night like they did when they first met? James poured out the whole conversation to Kathryn, who argued that Merry made a lot of sense and he should be happy he married a woman who liked watching movies with her husband more than expensive gifts.
Merry/Deirdre returned to the living room, and curled up on the couch to tell Kathryn/Ellen, "He loved that movie."
Kathryn nodded, although she wasn't sure if they were talking about James or his son. Getting Merry to talk rather than deflect was such a positive step that she wasn't going to interrupt with a question.
"When I told James that what I wanted for our first anniversary was to see a movie, I knew he had doubts. Honestly, we could have gone back to that awful movie where we first met, and I would have been happy. Sometimes he got so wrapped up in the job that simply having him with me for a whole weekend was a gift. Fortunately it was an amazing movie and we had so much fun watching it and talking about it that he stopped fussing about whether it was a good enough anniversary celebration. I can't tell you how many times we debated whether we wanted a son like Luke or Han. Hearing Danny ask about which one he should be tonight… I think my heart skipped a beat. It seemed like just yesterday James was asking the same question."
Merry seemed to expect a response this time, so Kathryn said, "I was a little surprised you picked the name Neal instead of Luke. I thought Luke would at least be his middle name."
Merry smiled fondly. "It was tempting, but in the end I went for names my dad would like. I knew I confounded him sometimes. I didn't turn out to be quite what he expected. Naming my son after my grandfather and great-grandfather was my way of reaching out to Dad in a way he would appreciate. I wanted to reassure him that I understood how important his family legacy was to him, even if I was taking that legacy in a different direction." For a moment Merry flashed a grin that reminded Kathryn where the nickname of Merry had come from. "And the middle name of George might have been more an homage to George Lucas than it was to my great-grandfather."
"I'm glad you let Neal… Danny," Kathryn corrected, knowing it was dangerous to get in the habit of using their real names out loud, "see the movie. Now he'll want to see the others. Are we going to watch The Empire Strikes Back next weekend?"
It seemed that a shadow passed over Merry, making her more of the wistful Deirdre again. "You were our babysitter when James took me to that one. We talked about it for weeks afterward, just like we did with the first Star Wars movie. At the time I didn't think anything of it. But after…" She closed her eyes a moment. She continued in that low voice parents use when talking about something they don't want kids to overhear. "After you arrested him, and I learned about the stolen money, it took on another meaning. I constantly wondered if it were just a coincidence, or if he had planned to steal something all along."
"You never mentioned anything about this when James was being investigated," Kathryn said.
"It sounded so silly whenever I thought about saying it out loud. I couldn't imagine anyone taking me seriously."
"Tell me," Kathryn said. "It will give you closure, and at this point it will drive me nuts if I don't know what he said."
"Well, you remember how everyone fixated on the big reveal, that Darth Vader was Luke's father. Of course we talked about whether Luke should have somehow sensed Vader was his father. Or whether it meant that Luke had that same evil in him, or Vader had some of Luke's goodness somewhere in his soul. At first, James said Luke's family did the right thing in keeping the truth from him. Luke shouldn't have been burdened with the knowledge that his father was a monster."
Kathryn nodded. She'd heard many similar conversations the summer of 1980. Everyone had been talking about it. But something was sticking in her memory. "James said something about your sister?"
"She's a psychologist, and one day I joked that she'd say Vader was just misunderstood. That if we knew his story, we'd pity him. Of course James rolled his eyes at that, and said as much as he loved the movies he hoped they stopped making them before they tried a story line that hokey. He said Vader was evil and it was a blessing Luke wasn't exposed to him, growing up." Merry sighed. "But then a few days later…"
James dried and put away the dishes as his wife washed. After four years of marriage they had the moves down, almost dancing around each other in the tiny kitchen. "You know how you can tell Vader was evil all along?"
"All the people he killed?" Merry suggested.
"That's how we know he's evil now. But if he'd been good before, that means he was tempted to evil for some reason that twisted his good nature. And the most obvious reason would have been to provide for his family. If he'd gone over to the dark side for the sake of his family, then Luke wouldn't have been living in near poverty when the first movie started. Because Vader would have used his power, at least at first, to benefit his family."
"I wouldn't say they were living in poverty. It was just… just dusty, really. They had a fairly big house and a lot of land, didn't they?"
"Worthless land. No, if Vader were a tragic, fallen hero, they would have lived someplace decent, and they would have told Luke about him. They wouldn't have let him grow up thinking his father was dead."
"But if they were scared of who Vader is now, and were hiding from him, they wouldn't exactly be living off of his money, right? What kind of lesson would that be to Luke? It's okay to benefit from the crimes of your family members, as long as you keep your own hands clean? Either they have to lie to him about where the money came from, or they can't accept money from Vader. Anyway, the fact that Luke comes from a humble background makes him more sympathetic than if he were wealthy."
"That's easy for you to say."
Done with the dishes, Merry opened the drain in the sink and turned to face her husband. "Is this about my parents again? I can't figure out if you resent that they offer us money sometimes, or that we never accept it. Some days it seems like it's both."
"It's just… I should be able to give you more. You deserve more."
"Why, because I had more as a kid? I'm happy with what we have now. I've never asked for more. If I ever made you feel like I wanted more, then I'm sorry."
"I don't want to argue about money."
"Neither do I. So why are we arguing about it?" Merry walked into the living room, where two-year-old Neal was absorbed in covering the glass-topped coffee table with blue crayon scrawl. She ruffled his dark hair to distract him, then smoothly took away the crayon and picked him up. She grinned at him and he grinned back. He had his father's eyes, and her smile. "Luke, I am your father," she said in a ridiculously deep voice.
Neal laughed at her. "No! You're Mama." He loved this game. His mom had been practicing it with him for days.
"Got that right, kid." James took Neal out of Merry's arms. "That's Mama. And you know who Daddy is."
"Luke, who is your father?" Merry asked in the same funny voice she had used before.
"Vader!" Neal shouted. He and Merry giggled.
James shook his head. "I'm not Darth Vader."
"Of course not, dear. You're the Nice Vader. The one who holds down a steady job and comes home to his family each night."
Bored with this conversation, Neal leaned as far as he could out of his father's arms, stretching toward the crayons. "Draw!" he demanded.
"Bed time!" his mother countered, taking him back from James and carrying Neal to his room. He sulked at first, but cheered up when Merry told him that if he went to bed he'd dream of things to draw. She told him about the Louvre, where there were more drawings and pictures than he could count. "Maybe someday they'll hang one of your pictures there," she said as he slipped from wakefulness to sleep.
James was at the doorway, watching. After she closed Neal's bedroom door behind them, he said, "If you want to take him to the Louvre someday, that's going to take a lot of money. And if he's going to be a serious artist, that could be expensive. Lessons, materials. How are we going to pay for that on my salary?"
Merry led them back to the living room, folded herself gracefully onto the couch, and patted the cushion next to her in an invitation to sit down. "First of all, he's a little young to decide on a career, or even to start art lessons. Secondly, before you know it he'll be in school and I'd like to go back to work, so we're not always going to depend on your salary, although I have to say we've been getting by fine."
"And the Louvre?"
"My mother dreams of taking all of her grandchildren traveling with her, once they're old enough to make intelligent conversation. Going to the Louvre will not be a problem, if that's what Neal wants. Avoiding it would be the challenge, once Mom decides he has any artistic talent."
"Then we're relying on your parents' money."
"Oh, for heaven's sake. We're indulging my mother, and getting an opportunity for the occasional child-free week, when we can spend our own money on a second honeymoon, perhaps. But if my parents were to lose all of their money tomorrow, it wouldn't be a big deal, James. There are fantastic art museums and galleries in DC, and we could certainly afford a trip to New York to see more. Neal is not going to be deprived if no one can afford to take him to Paris."
"You say that, but you're teaching him French," James pointed out.
"Yes, and Spanish. When he's three I'd like to add Italian, and after that some Japanese. Having grown up mostly abroad, I saw it's easier to learn languages as a child than as an adult. Knowing several languages will put him ahead in school. It really enhances your vocabulary, and opens up a lot of opportunities in a town like this where you meet people from around the world. When I was a teenager, I had a part time job as an interpreter one summer."
"It beats flipping burgers."
"That's what I thought, but we'll see what Neal wants to do. If fast food calls to him, so be it."
"Between your gourmet cooking and your refusal to let him eat fast food, that seems unlikely."
"Yes, I'm a food snob. It will give him something to rebel against when he gets older. Or it will stick and he'll actually eat healthy as an adult."
For a while they just sat there, Merry leaning her head on her husband's shoulder. Then James said, "If I were Vader, I'd want my son to know about me."
"In what universe is this relevant?"
"How about the one in which I do something you don't approve of, but my intentions are pure?"
Merry sat up straight to look her husband in the eyes. "What did you do, James?"
"Nothing! But it's possible… I mean… Let's just say I'm more ambitious than you are. The thing is, that ambition might lead me to make to decisions you disagree with. And if that happens, you should remember I'm only thinking of our family. I'd want you to make sure Neal knows that, too, if I'm not around to tell him."
Merry took a moment to process that and then said, "Where are you going with this? Because I have to say, this whole discussion is making me uncomfortable. Are you saying we're destined to split up?"
"No," protested James, "of course not. I'm not explaining this well. Cops, well we have dangerous jobs, right? And you and I are going to argue sometimes. If something were to happen someday, and we had been arguing right before… You'd tell Neal the good about me, right? You'd remember more than whatever we happened to be fighting about."
"I was right. I really don't like this discussion. If you died, I'd make sure Neal remembered you, and I'd tell him about everything that makes you who you are. The good parts and the annoying parts. I can't believe we're even talking about this. Do you really think I'd tell our son his father was evil, because we were having a fight the day before you died? I wouldn't be married to you if I thought you were evil. This is nonsense."
"When I think about that scene in the movie, where Luke learns Vader is his father, I wonder what that does to a kid, learning that his family had been lying to him all that time. I'd never want my son to go through that."
"James, unless we're talking about a ghost story, I can't imagine a scenario where I tell our son that you're dead, only to have you pop back into his life years later. What I can imagine is a scenario where I'm so devastated at losing you that I have a hard time talking about you. Maybe I wouldn't be able to tell him everything he deserves to know right away, but I wouldn't be alone. We have a lot of friends who would be able to keep you in his memory until I was able to handle it." She stood up, determined to get away from this disturbing discussion. "But it's really simple, honey. Don't do anything I'd disapprove of, and you have nothing to fear."
Back in Merry's living room in 1988, Kathryn said, "James was right about one thing. When Danny finds out you lied to him about his father, he'll be devastated."
"What choice did I have? You know, it wasn't until I finally accepted that James was guilty of theft and murder, that I understood why Luke's family lied to him. Who could let an innocent little boy grow up thinking that he came from… from that? He needs a hero, not the fear that he's going to follow in his father's footsteps."
"Couldn't you have given him a less fictitious hero? How about your brother the fighter pilot? Let him look up to his uncle instead of his dad."
Merry shrugged. "I might have been getting back at James, making him into Vader after all. But what do you think about his reaction to the movie? Did it sound to you like he planned to steal in order to call himself a better provider?"
Kathryn shook her head. "James was so impetuous. I still think it was a crime of opportunity. But I think he was… let's say he was open to the opportunity."
"The way he kept saying he was under pressure to provide more for our family, it used to make me feel guilty. But I'm over that. I was always telling him we didn't need a lot of money. He was the one who wanted more, and my background was his excuse."
"I agree you didn't drive James into a life of crime. But you really have set Danny up for that 'Luke, I am your father' moment. You can spare him that if you tell him the truth."
"I can spare him that if I never let James find us."
"You know it isn't that easy. Danny has an inquisitive mind. When he's an adult, the Marshals will tell him the full story, and he might go looking for James, to decide for himself if his father is a hero or a villain."
"I hear what you're saying, but I can't deal with that. It's too much. I feel like such an idiot, not to have seen my husband was turning into Vader. If he wanted me to keep him alive in our son's memory, he shouldn't have killed another cop. Anyway, the Marshals will tell Danny everything when he's eighteen. That's plenty of time to figure out how I'll explain why I couldn't tell him the truth."
Kathryn chose not to argue about it, but as she drove home, she couldn't help thinking that Merry was Scarlet O'Hara from Gone with the Wind, putting off her troubles for another day. But the troubles were still there, and not any smaller for having been ignored.
The question facing her was: As honorary Aunt Ellen, did she have the right to intervene? Or even the duty to intervene? It was a terrible choice. Danny deserved to know the truth about his father, but it could come at the cost of his relationship with his mother. It might not be so bad if they could gradually share the truth over the next few years, but that seemed unlikely. Merry was the type to tell him all or nothing, and once Danny got a glimpse of the truth he wouldn't rest until he saw it all. At ten a boy could handle the news that his parents were really divorced, but the reason for the divorce did seem like more than a child his age could handle.
Meredith was smart enough to understand the position they were in, a position that couldn't entirely be blamed on James. That's why tomorrow Meredith wouldn't be Merry. Today had offered a brief window for Danny to see the mother he might have had, if he were still Neal. But Merry had become another woman, not only because of Witness Protection, but as a result of the lies she had told her son. Tomorrow she would be depressed Deirdre again, bereaved widow of a non-existent hero.
Conference room in the FBI's Manhattan White Collar Division. 4:30pm on a Friday during Season 2, shortly after Forging Bonds.
The meeting was over, but if they went back to their desks, they'd feel compelled to work on something. Then they'd feel compelled to finish something, and they'd all be staying late. Instead, Jones, Diana and Neal remained in the conference room and played a game known to many bored office workers: casting themselves in movies.
"… I'm Sleepy, Diana's Grumpy, Peter's Doc, and you're Dopey." Jones leaned back to enjoy the reactions.
"No way," Neal protested. "There is no way that I'm Dopey. I'm definitely Doc."
"Nope," Diana said. "You're the newest member of the team. New guy is always Dopey. It's the rule."
"There has to be some probie who can be Dopey."
"Okay, okay," interrupted Jones, recognizing an argument that could go on all night. "Wizard of Oz. Diana's Dorothy."
"I got this one," Neal said. "Peter's the Tin Man. You're the Scarecrow. Mozz is the Cowardly Lion."
"The little guy?" Diana questioned. "I thought he'd be a Munchkin."
"Conspiracy theories. The world is out to get us. Be afraid. Cowardly Lion." Neal grinned. "And I'm the wizard."
"The con man who pretends to be the Wizard of Oz." Jones nodded. "Yeah, that's you. How about Star Wars?"
"Mozzie would be Yoda," Diana suggested. "He's short and bald."
"Actually," Neal drawled, "I've always thought he'd be a better fit for R2-D2."
"That is pretty good," Jones agreed. "That droid was sneaky. And Yoda seemed more law-abiding."
"True," Diana said, "but R2-D2 is Luke's sidekick. That means Neal is Luke."
"Peter should be Luke," Jones added.
"No, Peter is Han, obviously." Neal observed the skeptical looks from the others. "He always drives. The Taurus is the Millennium Falcon."
"Or the van is," Jones said.
"I'm sold," Diana admitted. "Peter is Han. Neal is Luke."
"That means Elizabeth is Leia," Jones pointed out.
"I can see that one," Diana agreed. "That makes her Neal's sister, and they have the same coloring. Do we have a Chewbacca?"
Jones smiled. "I'd volunteer for that, but you do yell a lot. I'll give you Chewbacca."
Diana rolled her eyes. "That makes you Lando, then? We still need a C-3PO."
"I'm still not convinced that Caffrey is Luke. He could be C-3PO. He knew all those languages, right? He was a translator. And he always got into trouble but never thought it was his own fault. And he wanted to look perfect."
Diana nodded. "He's got a point there, Neal. If you're going to be Luke, you'll need an Obi-Wan, and a Darth Vader."
Neal flashed back for a moment to Halloween of 1988. Ellen told him he was holding the light saber wrong. She corrected his grip and then used a roll of wrapping paper to fence with him. He'd climbed the sofa and jumped onto a table as they fought. He'd been more swashbuckler than Jedi Knight, a miniature Errol Flynn. But his mother had laughed, like he never remembered hearing from her before or since. He and Ellen had kept fighting until they were exhausted, hoping to keep the laughter going a little longer. But later that night, when he couldn't sleep due to a sugar rush, he heard her crying. He hid away the light saber and never used it when she was around.
"Neal?" Diana prompted, bringing him back to the present.
"Yeah, I had an Obi-Wan. I could give you fencing lessons, if you get tired of your beloved guns."
"Your dad know he's Vader?" Jones asked.
Neal gave them a charming fake smile, the one that fooled most people. "I'm sure he does. Are we done with this one? Because I really don't want to think about casting anyone I know as Jar Jar."
"In my office, Skywalker," said Peter, who had apparently been standing in the doorway for a while. "Now."
And Neal winced, because he suspected the fake smile didn't fool Peter anymore.
"Ooookaaay," Jones said.
"I was just going to take these reports down to my desk," Diana said, gathering up a stack of paperwork.
"That looks heavy. Let me help you," Jones offered, scrambling out of his chair to escape.
Neal followed Peter into his office. Peter shut the door and said, "I saw your face when Jones made the Darth Vader comment. You were smiling on the outside, but…" Peter trailed off.
"Crying on the inside? If this is going to be a clown analogy, please let me know, because I'll need to leave. Immediately." When Peter didn't respond, Neal added, "You want to tell me to stop clowning around, don't you?"
"I was trying to suppress the urge, but yes, that's where my mind went. Enough deflecting, Neal. You said your father knows he's Vader. Present tense. But during the case with the State Department, you said he was dead."
"I said my mother told me he was dead. And large portion of society believes that we remain self-aware in the afterlife. So it's not inconsistent to say he's dead and still knows he's Vader."
"You said your mother lied about your dad being a hero. She lied about him being dead, too, didn't she?"
"What difference does it make?" Neal asked, stalling to think of a strategy to get Peter off this topic.
"Damn it, Neal, you trusted me with a lot of incriminating information the other night when you told me about working for Vincent Adler. Why the secrecy about your family and childhood? It was like pulling teeth just to find out your dad was a cop."
Neal sighed, deciding a slice of honesty was going to be his best approach. It would be painful, but he could use that to his advantage. If Peter saw some pain he'd stop prodding at the puzzle of Neal's family. "You've seen the movies, right?"
"The Star Wars movies? Of course."
"You wanted to be Luke?"
Peter shrugged. "Sure. Most kids I knew wanted to be Luke. He was a hero."
"But did you really think about what it meant to be Luke? His family dies. His friends suffer. You remember the scene where Luke learned that his family had lied to him? He realizes his father isn't dead. He's alive, and he's the ultimate bad guy: Darth Vader. Hearing that news almost kills Luke. I wanted to be Luke as a kid, Peter. Then one day I learned I really was, and I would have given anything to go back to the way things were before." Neal met Peter's eyes, and didn't try to hide the torment he remembered. "When I learned the truth I ran, and it feels like I've been running ever since."
After studying Neal a moment, Peter said, "Let's start over. You looked a little tense when Jones threw out the Vader comment. And for you to look a little tense, that means you were probably very upset. Are you okay?"
"I'm –" Neal started.
"And before you jump in with 'I'm fine' keep in mind that I'm getting pretty good at reading you. Tell me the truth."
Neal paused to think, and said, "I'll be fine."
"Okay. I get why you don't want to talk about your dad. Or, I guess I don't really get it, but I understand it's a painful topic. Just know that if you need to talk about him sometime, I'm here."
"Thanks." Neal stood, eager to get away. He wasn't comfortable sharing information about his childhood. When Ellen had told him the truth, she explained that if he decided to leave Witness Protection he had to leave his past behind. He could never tell anyone about his parents or about growing up in St. Louis. Even a seemingly innocent comment could put his family at risk of discovery.
"And Neal?" Peter said.
Neal had made it to the door. So close to getting away. He closed his eyes in a moment of frustration, then focused on clearing his face of expression before turning around. "Yeah?"
"Luke had a lot of friends. He wasn't alone. Remember that."
After a moment of surprise, Neal let a small but genuine smile emerge. He bowed slightly and said, "May the Force be with you."
Clearly fighting a grin, Peter said, "It would be more convincing if you had the robe."
Neal rolled his eyes. "It's a cloak, Peter. Jedi masters wear a cloak."
"Jedi knights weren't con men, as I recall."
"You call it a con. I call it a Jedi mind trick."
"Right. Get out of here." After Neal had cleared out, Peter's mind wandered back to his own childhood memories of those movies. Every kid in his neighborhood had wanted a light saber, and most of them dressed as Star Wars characters at Halloween. Just for a moment, he pictured a juvenile Neal in a Luke Skywalker costume. He smiled at the mental image, and then blinked in surprise.
Not long ago, Peter had described Neal's life before the age of eighteen as "a big, gaping hole." Until today, Neal's past was so shrouded in mystery that Peter had never been able to visualize Neal as a kid. For some reason, it felt like a major breakthrough that Neal shared something about his life as a child – not just the "I'll tell you what my mother told me" version, but his actual experiences.
"His dad was Vader. What a mess." It was hard to imagine what that must have been like. Peter's own family had been so normal and stable. But he wasn't one for introspection. Thoughts of Halloween had him craving a candy bar. Peter left his thoughts of Neal and Star Wars, and stopped by a vending machine on his way to his car.
AN: Happy Halloween!
The Neal Caffrey/Luke Skywalker comparison popped into my mind this weekend and wouldn't let go. Until I started writing this story, I envisioned Neal's mother as someone too self-absorbed to be likable, but she turned into someone more interesting than I expected. I do have in mind a longer story that would have Neal meeting his Caffrey cousins. But it's competing with a few other plots.
