Blur of a Memory
By: True Love Lives Forever
Summary: Everything was just a blur. He couldn't remember. He didn't want to remember. Keller. El. Neal. It had to just be a nightmare. (Takes place after "Countdown," the season 3 summer finale; angsty)
Setting: This takes place shortly after season 3 summer finale, "Countdown."
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, except for this idea of what could take place after "Countdown," which I'm sure will be proven wrong anyway when January 2012 comes around and Season 3, Episode 11 will be shown.
Author's Note: Pretty angsty and depressing, so read at your risk. Part of this idea came to me when I was thinking about the summer finale and ended up listening to the song "Pieces of a Dream" by Anastacia at the same time. Yes, this is a romantic song, and no, I don't think of Peter and Neal as a romantic couple. But parts of the lyrics and emotions the song provokes can sort of be interpreted as either romance or bromance, in my opinion.
~White Collar~
He couldn't recall exactly what had happened in the last few minutes. Not that he really tried or wanted to. Maybe it had already been hours instead. But that didn't really matter either way.
Everything was just a blur. Every thought flew through his mind and got out of his reach before he could pull it together and comprehend it or put into a coherent sentence. But that would assume he wanted to speak. And he didn't. It was probably the only thing he was sure of. He didn't want to talk to anybody.
He just wanted to hold his wife, safe at last in his arms, and to never let go. Peter just wanted the comfort of her embrace, proving to him that she was alive and well, and in return, he'd try to provide any comfort he could for her. They would help each other.
But where was she? She was just here. Wasn't she?
He truly wished he could pretend the last 24 hours never occurred and with them, the events of those hours would disappear from his memory as if they never existed. He wanted things to just go back to normal.
But what was normal anyway? Could he define what normal really was? Professionally? Personally?
It would probably be easier to do if his memories, just like his thoughts, stopped being nothing but a blur, distorting right from wrong, normal from unusual, his surroundings… everything.
He figured though that whatever normal was, chances were pretty good it didn't include El being kidnapped at night, by a ruthless conman turned killer.
Was that Hughes standing some yards away from him? It seemed that Diana and Jones were next to him, standing by an ambulance? If he tried to focus just a little bit, he could make out the three of them conversing with one another. What their conversation was about, he could probably guess if he gave a little bit more effort, but something told him from within not to bother. He didn't want to think about it, did he?
Diana slowly brushed something from her cheek as she turned away from both Jones and Hughes' gazes, supposedly looking at the scene around her. Was it tears?
Peter brought his hands to scrub over his face. Maybe it was just fatigue. It would pass.
That is when he realized he had wetness leaving trails down his cheeks, making those areas vulnerable to the wind that occasionally blew from the direction of the Hudson River just mere yards from him and cooled down his face, almost painfully so.
His tears.
Those tears were a bitter reminder of what happened here not so long ago, weren't they?
Keller.
El.
Neal.
Keller kidnapped El.
It had been Neal's fault. Wasn't it?
It had to be a nightmare. All of this just had to be a figment of his imagination. And if that was true, then he apparently had quite a sick imagination considering… well, everything. It's funny the realizations you sometimes can discover about yourself at the weirdest of moments.
It was then that he felt warm, soft, comforting fingers wrap around his upper arms from behind and then slowly encircle him into the beginning of that comforting hug he had been craving.
Was that part of his imagination, too? Wishful thinking maybe?
But no. Thankfully, she was real.
El rested her head on his shoulder, allowing him to breathe in the scent that was simply her, and he took the chance to fulfill at least one of his current dreams – he turned slowly around, so he wouldn't hurt her any more than the goons who kidnapped her already did, and hugged her like his life depended on it.
She must have just returned from the ambulance, having the paramedics check her over just in case. The ambulance that stood close to him, and even closer to Hughes, Diana, and Jones. She was probably there just moments ago. He must have been rooted to this spot, unable to move in his haze if he didn't even go with her those few yards.
But then again, he already knew by then that she would be ok. She wasn't hurt beyond a bruise or two that would heal with time. And they already held each other just minutes ago. Or was it longer than that? But did that matter?
None of this should have happened in the first place. But he knew she would be ok. With time.
He just hoped he would be as well.
As they stood there for some moments, clinging to each other and getting strength from being together, some of Peter's tension started to leave. And with it, so did any adrenaline that might have been left over in his system and was still keeping him on his feet. He just felt more exhausted now than he ever remembered himself to be.
Sensing this, El managed to lead him over to a bench nearby and took a seat next to him, still holding onto one another like their life depended on it. And it did. They really needed each other, now more than any other time.
The haze might not have cleared yet, but the memories started to bombard him whether he wanted to or not. They were figments, still broken up here and there, like bits of a puzzle that his mind started clutching at outside of his control.
Peter glared at Keller who had a gun on El – aiming straight for her temple as he stood a little to her right, while she was handcuffed to a bench mere yards from a cliff-like edge of the deserted park that led straight down to the Hudson River. She was unable to move and Peter was also immobilized by helplessness and fear. His own gun was on the ground, a few feet away - untouchable. Keller could pull the trigger way before Peter could reach his gun and that was a chance he couldn't take.
Neal was just getting up from the ground. Keller and him must have already had a scuffle before Peter got here seconds ago.
Keller of course could not do anything without his taunting. Although, whatever he was saying, it went over Peter's head. He saw Keller's mouth moving, but he couldn't make out any words. All he could hear was his blood pounding in his ears.
Peter knew that Keller wouldn't let them all leave in one piece. That crazed look of a maniac made it obvious he was going to pull the trigger and someone was going to die. Soon. Before the rest of the FBI could possibly get here.
As if in slow motion, Peter saw Neal glance at him. It was a look he'll never forget. It seemed to combine his regrets, his apology, and most of all – a goodbye. As if he knew what he was going to do would change everything between them.
And it did.
Neal started speaking to Keller, distracting him as he slowly walked towards the madman. Keller moved his gun to point at Neal, as if knowing Neal had something up his sleeve. As the distance between them was disappearing, Neal charged Keller at full force. A few gunshots could be heard before both men went over the edge, breaking a rotten excuse of a fence in the process.
And so now he kept staring at that edge, his place on the current bench providing him a great angle on it.
This park had been closed for years, and rotten wooden fences were proof of why renovations were necessary before future use.
But it still provided a magnificent view. He might even have commented on it himself if the circumstances were different.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine Neal talking his ear off about the scenery this park provided and how it should be considered a crime that this place was restricted for public use. He'd probably go on to talk about a painting that depicted this place, or if there wasn't one, that someone should have already been motivated to capture the beauty of it on canvas before long.
But Neal wasn't here now.
Neal was the one whose imagination and creativity ran wild. He was the optimist in their partnership, always able to think his way out of any situation, seeing the magnificence in everything and goodness in everyone.
Peter wouldn't call himself a pessimist, but he was definitely a rational realist. He could weigh the pros and cons of a situation and go with what he believed was the best solution or decision. Neal was young and impulsive. Peter was more experienced and cautious.
Even though their personality was so different, and life has obviously taught them different lessons, they defied the common belief that they would horribly clash with one another. Instead, they complimented each other, adding strengths to the other's weaknesses. And that worked for them. Peter was able to use the FBI's resources and his own experience at catching bad guys, mixed in with Neal's brilliant and creative mind full of experience from the other side of the law, and they caught criminals like no one else. Just in their first year of working together, Neal helped Peter clear a 93% conviction rate and that percentage kept rising with more practice.
Neal has always been a young genius. A somewhat mischievous and at times straight out devious genius, but always able to get away, to get himself out of any challenging situation he got himself into.
Until now.
Now it seems Neal has come across the one situation he couldn't handle by himself. And neither could Peter. And as a result, they both lost. They lost each other.
Sometimes, Peter felt like Neal was his little brother that constantly got into trouble and whom Peter had to protect. Sometimes the threat came from others, but mostly it was from himself, from within.
That is undoubtedly why the whole issue with the Nazi plunder hurt so much.
His mentor had been right. He was too close to his charge. But it was too late for that now in so many different ways.
Sure, there had been feelings of betrayal, which had grown stronger together with rage and deep hurt right after discovering El missing from their house, knowing full well that Keller was behind her kidnapping because of the Nazi treasure and thus, that Neal held a huge portion of blame alongside Keller. Whatever Neal's intentions might have been, this only served as proof of deceit in their relationship, their partnership. But now, betrayal took backstage seat as loss took over.
He had El next to him – thanks to Neal – and he'll be eternally grateful for that. But that didn't make the loss of his partner and friend any easier, betrayals and all.
Neal was lost.
And so instead of seeing the nature in its beauty as he stared ahead towards the edge, all Peter could see was the scene that must be burned into his retina – Neal falling over the edge with Keller.
Keller won. He took Neal with him.
Would he ever be found? Would Neal's body ever be found?
Peter simply didn't know what he was hoping for right now.
Did he want Neal's body to be found, allowing for a proper burial and a chance to grieve while simultaneously putting the final nail in the coffin of their relationship, their partnership, with no chance of getting it back? Or did he wish to hold on to that slimmer of hope that they were not over, that they might be reunited someday and think of these last 24 hours and the events that led here as a stupid misunderstanding, a bump in the road that made them stronger in the long run?
He wasn't sure.
But he could still see that look – that regret and the goodbye in those blue, shiny eyes.
~White Collar~
Some of the thoughts and sentences here were disoriented, confusing, and fragmented because I was trying to show Peter's emotional state in those moments after everything went down. Hopefully this came through in the writing. This is sort of my first attempt at something this emotional, and yes, quite frankly depressing. Anyhow, I don't know if I'll leave this as a one-shot or maybe do another companion chapter. Let me know what you think. Please let me know what you think and REVIEW.
