Winter Blues

This prompt was given to me a while ago. It came from Nerd-Herd-27 and simply said "Hot chocolate makes everything better." I decided to save this for winter time, for obvious reasons, and have finally finished. It is short and has completely jumped the tracks I thought I had set out for it, but I found I like it better than where it was going originally.

Dedicated to Nerd-Herd-27. I hope you like it. :)

Neal blew warm air into his cupped hands, but it had little affect. He knew he should have worn gloves today, but his mind had been... elsewhere. The clouds pregnant with snow made him think of when he and Kate spent a Christmas in Maine. They stayed in a cozy cabin and watched the snow fall, tangled together under a fleece blanket on the love seat. Granted, their mark owned a great deal of rare marionettes and had a thing for cabins. Still, it was nice when it lasted.

The Bureau had let everyone go early since there was a severe snow storm headed their way, and it helped that they had cleared all of their cases and were up to date on paperwork. Neal even had enough time to help Peter with his paperwork by forging his signature, but that was between them. The mansion came into view and the empty windows stared out with a glazed over expression, ignoring their lone inhabitant for the season. June had left to spend the weeks leading up to and through till after New Years with her granddaughter. That left Neal all alone with his thoughts over the holidays.

Once Neal got his iced over feet to carry him to the top of the stairs, he entered the his apartment and shivered, but not from cold. The lack of another warm body in the room was palpable. It made him want to crawl under his covers and hide from the memories it drudged up. Too many cold nights, alone. Kate in his arms. Kate saying goodbye. Kate. Kate. Kate.

Neal couldn't get out of there fast enough. His feet pounded down the stairs, out the front door, and down the sidewalk. He must look like a crazy man running down the street dressed as he was, but that was the last thing on his mind. The first was Kate. The second was 'Can't think about that!' It was dangerous; he had slipped into a dark place after Kate had died and he did not want to go there again. Neal finally stopped to catch his breath, hands on his knees and white puffs fogging his vision. He didn't even notice the hand rubbing his back at first.

"Neal? Are you okay?" Neal looked up to meet El's eyes; concern was radiating off of her through the cold, and she looked as cautious as though she were approaching a frightened animal. In retrospect, Neal completely understood her hesitation. Anyone else would surely have called the cops by now, thinking he was about to snap and attack. In truth he did feel as though he were about to break, shatter into a million pieces in fact. It certainly wasn't a pleasant feeling. He felt a slight tugging at his shoulders.

"Come on. You're coming inside with me, Mister. You should know better than to go out in this weather." Before he was fully aware of it, Neal found himself being shuffled quickly into a warm house, complete with a dog and food. He was promptly skinned of his coat, pushed down into the couch, wrapped in a flannel blanket and had a lap full of Satchmo. The brown eyes that were eye level with his were pleading for some lovin', so Neal happily obliged. His hands stroked through the soft golden fur, and his mind sort of...wandered. It came back with a jolt when a cup of hot chocolate was shoved under his nose, and when they were free, his hands.

"Wanna tell me why my wife dragged a sopping wet, freezing cold con man into my house? Or are you just gonna sit there and keep petting my dog?" Neal smirked and still didn't look at Peter. His thoughts were a bit of a mess at the moment and needed a second to sort themselves out.

"Because your wife is an amazing woman whose heart is as big as the sun." Another set of footsteps approached and a soft laugh filled the air.

"Oh, Neal. Flattery will get you everywhere." Neal's lip quirked at that, and he stared deeply into his hot chocolate. The sweet aroma worked its way into his system, and the warmth seeped into his numbed fingers, bringing them back to life. "So, any reason you were outside in a snow storm looking like you had the entire FBI chasing you?" Neal smirked.

"Oh not the entire FBI. Just Peter." Peter looked at the falling snow and lifted his own mug to his lips.

"Damn right." Neal's smirk widened into a genuine smile, but neither El nor Peter missed the sad crinkles at the edges. Even Satchmo whined and laid his head in Neal's lap. That was when the younger man seemed to notice that he was well and truly surrounded...and that he was not in his home.

"I'm sorry for interrupting like this. It was not my plan. Honest. Just needed to get out of the house for a while." The snow was coming down harder now, and everything outside already had a thin white blanket over it. "In fact, I better get going before the storm gets any worse." Neal stood and placed his mug on the coffee table. But, as he turned a firm hand landed on his shoulder and pushed him right back down into the spot he had been occupying.

"Oh no you don't. You really think we would let you go out in this weather? I don't think so. You can stay here." El pulled her hand away from his shoulder and immediately placed it back on her mug.

"Peter, take Neal upstairs and give him some of your extra clothes. He's freezing, and I don't want him catching a cold." Peter stood without hesitation, and when Neal opened his mouth to protest, the agent pulled him up and away before he could get a word out.

"You know there's no point, so quit while you're ahead. I should have something that'll fit you. The sweats will probably just hang off of your feet a bit." He was right. There was no point, as it would only end in him getting clothes from Peter but a more pushy El. That thought was just scary. Peter was able to scrounge up some sweats and a huge FBI sweatshirt. To say Neal was swimming would be an understatement. That, of course, meant that the agent was laughing his butt off. The con just glared at him and stomped back down the stairs to his waiting cocoa. El giggled when she saw what Neal was wearing, but didn't make fun. The young man settled back in next to Satchmo on the couch and replaced his full mug back into his hands.

"Um, thanks. I didn't want to intrude on your evening." El rolled her eyes.

"We've already covered this, Sweetie. It's not like we had plans for tonight. Now," She set her mug on the edge of the coffee table and scooted to the edge of her chair. Peter was proud for his wife's perfect imitation of a professional interrogator. "Want to tell us why you decided to take a nice jog out in this weather?" Neal was also pretty impressed, though he would not have expected anything less out of Mrs. Burke. The sight before him was rather intimidating, though, more so than any other interrogator he had ever had before. His blue eyes sought a distraction and found one in his cocoa. To avoid answering, and to give him time to think, he took a sip of his cocoa, and it nearly shot him off of the couch.

The drink was like taking a sip of deliciously warm straight melted chocolate. It had been a long time since he had indulged in this much sugar, but the familiarity returned to him like riding a bike. Tears actually sprung to his eyes. The cocoa was exactly like how his mom used to make it, and then later he found it was how Kate made it too. "Dammit," his mind growled at him. There was no way to hide his emotional state now; both Burkes were highly aware of his reddening eyes and deepening of breaths.

"Neal?" It was soft, gently prodding, but not invasive. It didn't want to steal information. It wanted to comfort by allowing a safe place to drop his burden, and he had been carrying it for so long. Neal cleared his throat and wiped at his eyes self-consciously. When he finally lifted his gaze, his nervous smile faded away as his weak excuses fell to ash at his feet. The Burkes. Too good to be true. Especially for a guy like him. But...he could indulge the feeling of being cared about while it lasted.

"I- the, um, the snow. Snow always makes me think...makes me think of Kate." Just like that. It was that easy. He hadn't been kidding when he told Peter that he was the only one Neal trusted, despite his drugged out state. Now that trust was making itself known. And Neal found once he started, he couldn't stop.

"We would always go somewhere during the winter where there would be snow. Kate loved it. She said it was always her favorite thing growing up. We used to...find somewhere to crash. She would make hot chocolate, and once the snow started, we would curl up on the nearest piece of furniture facing a window and watch it for hours on end." Neal's lips curved upward almost painfully at the images that flashed before his mind's eye.

"On days like that I would picture what our life would be like together, if we had been different. If I wasn't a con man and forger. If we weren't criminals. If we were just...normal people living normal lives. It was...nice while it lasted." His throat felt unusually tight and decided to rebel, effectively gagging him. Again, he stared into his mug as if it held all of the answers. It didn't, but it seemed like Elizabeth Burke did.

"Neal, Sweetie, look at me." He did. El gazed softly into his reddened sapphire eyes and saw the pain there. "You lost someone. You lost someone you loved completely and without question. You feel like you want to scream and destroy things and hide under a blanket until it's all over all at the same time. It's not fair. It's not right. And nothing in the world can replace what was taken from you." Neal dropped his head as tears spilled over and down his cheeks. El put a finger under his chin and brought his gaze back up. "But, Neal, you're not alone. There are people that care about you. People who are hear to talk to when things get hard. We don't like to see you hurting. These things that you are feeling right now...they don't disappear when you will them away. Time doesn't heal all wounds. But it can let them scar. This will always be with you. You can let it remain an ugly reminder of things that could have been or that searing pain of loss...or...or you can let them be a part of you. Let them become a tattoo that makes you think of how she would laugh. How she would look at you after a long day. How you would curl up together to watch it snow. Remember those things...and smile."

The storm calmed somewhat, and the snow fell softly, blanketing the city and hushing what it could of New York. The snow brings with it a blank canvas. A way to look at the world in a new light. It is a new start and can lead to great things. Despite the cold, snow warms the heart at the memories it brings and kisses the ground with its soft down. It is forever God's way of tucking us in and telling us, "It's time to remember and rest. Let it call you to sleep and know that you are loved."

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Please review. And remember I am open to prompts! :)