Authors note
I just wanted to thank you guys again for reading my story and all the reviews. To answer a question that I got, I'm not an English native. I'm form the Netherlands, where it is always cold and rainy. :D. So, I hope you like this chapter and the Neal & Peter bromance. Please review and enjoy!
Also I just wanted to say R.I.P. James Rebhorn. You were amazing and we are really going to miss you.
Chapter 4
Neal Caffrey had been awake for an hour now, yet nobody had noticed he was actually awake. A couple of people had come in to check on him. Neal was really good at pretending to be asleep. Or at least he had become really good. It had been the only time he could rest and was left alone. The past hour Neal had been going over the last day. It had been so unreal, like it hadn't happened at all. I'm still there. I never escaped and they are going to wake me up soon. Yet it did seem real. Could it really be that Peter had come and to save him? Neal listened to his surroundings. Taking in every detail. He heard the Italian cars go by outside. Which meant there was an open window. Strange, my room didn't have windows. At least not that I could reach or get open. Yet this one was and it was big too. Neal could feel a soft ray of sunshine on his face. It was nice to know there was a clear exit. He moved on. The heart monitor was still on. Neal could hear the steady beeping of his heart and the soft ventilation of the machine. Then there was this other sound. It had startled him at first, but now he recognized it. It was the brushing of papers.
Neal knew the sound very well. It was the sound Peter made while reading his newspapers during lunch breaks. Usually Neal would get coffee and food for the Harvard crew and they would eat it in the conference room. Most of them, including Neal, would talk. But not Peter. He started every lunchbreak with reading the sports section of his favorite newspaper. This had annoyed Neal so much, that he couldn't help commenting. 'You shouldn't skip ahead you know. Normal people start at the front page and then work their way to back.' Peter didn't ever bother to look up from his newspaper. 'Also most of the important news items are at the front.' Neal had continued. 'Why would I want to know what Justin Bieber has done this month? I have enough problems as it is.' Peter had answered. Neal had smirked at the time. 'It's called staying up to date. You know. Keeping an eye on what interests' people these days. It's also a good conversation starter, for the occasion you don't just want to talk about work or sports. No wonder Elizabeth likes having me around. I have other things to talk about.' This had earned him a dark look form Peter and also a newspaper thrown at his head. The newspaper missed him though. 'And you played baseball, really…' He was saying when another newspaper hit him square in the face. Apparently it had looked really funny, because the whole Harvard crew started laughing. Even peter couldn't hold it together. Neal had shrugged his shoulders and smiled. It had been a long time ago. Neal had been happy then, even though he hadn't known it himself. Then the trouble had started with his dad and senator Pratt. Everything had changed after that.
Neal heard a muffled grunt and some shuffling. It was about the fifth time in short notice he had heard that sound. A smile creped onto his face. Peter always did that when he was uncomfortable and had sat in the same position for a long time. 'If you are going to pretend that you are sleeping all day, the least you can do is not laugh at me.' Neal turned his head in Peter's direction and opened his eyes. Peter was seated near the window on an old chair. The chair did not look comfortable at all. Neal smiled again. 'Well, I can try not to, but you're making it hard though.' Peter stood up from his chair and placed it next to him. Looking him over at the same time. It made Neal feel really uncomfortable, like he was fragile or something. But that could very well be the truth.
'So, what's the verdict?' He asked. Best to get it out of the way directly. His question made Peter look even more uncomfortable. '3 broken ribs, 1 bruised, a pretty bad concussion, your left ankle is badly infected, you have a dislocated shoulder and bruises all over your body.' Peter summed up. Neal nodded. He had expected as much. They had always told him exactly what they were going to do. It was part of the punishment. 'Strangely they never touched your hands or your face.' Peter continued, while looking at Neal's reaction. Neal knew why they never had touched his face or hands. They had needed those. What artist could make a perfect copy without their hands or eyes? When Neal didn't react Peter placed a hand on his arm. Startled Neal looked at Peter. Peter frowned and held his head slightly sideways. Neal looked down at his lap again, slightly blushing. He wasn't ready to talk about what happed yet. Silently he prayed that Peter wouldn't ask.
'Neal, I know you don't want to talk about what happened.' Neal's head snapped up. 'Yes, I know what you are thinking. And Neal I just wanted to tell you that you can talk to me. You know... about what happened. I know that I'm not good at… this… But I'm willing to listen. I know you're not ready now, but when you are you can come to me.' The room suddenly felt a lot safer. Neal knew Peter hated these kinds of conversations. He had no doubt that Peter had practiced this speech with Elizabeth, but still it was nice to hear. It had been the first kind words anybody had said to him in months. And knowing Peter would be there for him meant a lot. More than Peter would ever understand. 'Thank you Peter. Truly thank you.' Peter nodded and padded him on the arm. 'One condition though.' Neal looked surprised at Peter and raised an eyebrow. 'No crying.' Neal couldn't help but laugh. If there was one thing Peter hated, it was crying. Especially woman, but men would be even worse. You could hug women and let them cry on your shoulder. Men though. Neal imagined Peter would just tell him to cowboy up.
'No crying, I promise. So how are things back home?' It was one of the things that had really kept him going. Even though the FBI probably thought he had run, they still would have been looking for him. Moz had definitely gone crazy, thinking of alien abductions and government conspiracies. June would have been worried even more, but had remained calm knowing he was coming back some day. It was kind of scary to ask for the truth so directly, but it had to be done. Better to get it over with quick. Neal put on one of his conman smiles as he waited for Peter to answer.
'Well. El got the job in DC so she moved there.' I did not escape Neal's notice that Peter had said "she moved". He didn't interrupt though. He saw Peter didn't want to talk about it yet. Probably the reason he hadn't joined his lovely wife, was because he thought that Neal had run. 'Diana and Teddy are doing well. He just rolled over for the first time. June also babysits form time to time. Teddy loves her.' That didn't surprise Neal at all. Everybody loved June. 'Teddy huh, I thought it was Theo?' Neal grinned, when Peter grunted. 'Yeah, Mozzie has a bad influence.' At that Neal looked worried. He was always worried about Moz. They were like brothers. And Mozzie was the best friend Neal had ever had. Loyal to the core. 'How is Moz?' Peter looked sadly at Neal. 'Honestly, I don't know. I haven't spoken him in months. After you ra… disappeared he was lost. We all where. Nobody knew where you were. It was like you vanished into thin air. Mozzie flushed out every street contact he had to find you, but nobody knew anything. So Mozzie started looking elsewhere. Everywhere. He never believed that you ran. Not for one second. He blamed me for what had happened. Believed, it was one of the criminals we put away. Or that it was another corrupt agent. He even considered Fowler and Kramer. Not long after that we had a falling out. He left and since then he hasn't come by. El called him a couple of times. But he wouldn't even talk to her.' Neal nodded. That had been his worst fear. Well that and dying.
'I wouldn't though... Run… You know? Not without him. Peter really I didn't run. I wanted to. I planned to. But even before I made arrangements they took me.' He looked at Peter. Pleading for him to believe. Peter stood and started walking towards the window. Hands in his pocket. Slightly hopping form one foot to the other. ' Neal, I…' Then suddenly a phone started ringing. Both of them jumped. Peter quickly walked over to his phone. "Number unknown." Taking a breath Peter answered the phone. 'Special Agent Peter Burke.'
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Ambassador Corn felt uneasy. The car he was in had been driving around for half an hour now. Yet he had no idea where he was going. The man with the cigarette had told him to take the backseat and enjoy the ride. Which was a pretty odd request. Still Corn had had odder requests. Silently giggling he thought of Star. Suddenly the black sedan stopped. Corn took a look at the black windows. He could hear the front door slapping shut and two men talking. Now he really was starting to feel uneasy. Ambassador Corn was good at making people do things. But he was alone and apparently the cigarette man was not. He looked through windows again, trying to see the men outside. There was something of about these guys. Corn had always been cunning, but in a non-valiant way. These men on the other hand were serious trouble.
Suddenly the door opened and then he felt the wet pavement on his cheek. Blinking Corn turned to see he had been thrown out of the car. Next to him was a man the size of a building. Or I could be lying on the ground. Leaning against the rear of the car was the man with the cigarette. 'Good of you to join us ambassador.' Corn turned as quickly as he could. The first thing he saw where cowboy boots. He slowly got up and took another look. The man was dressed in jeans and a blouse.
' I will be with you in a moment,' He said with a cold voice. Just then Corn saw him. The man was lying across the pavement floor. Blood smeared all over his face and body. His left leg lying in a strange position beside him. He also had a big gash at the back of his head. He had his hands protective over his stomach and was crying uncontrollably. The cowboy slowly walked towards him, getting a gun out of his jacket. 'So again. Why did he escape?' 'Because I … wasn't… paying attention… But I… I… When I checked… he was… still there… Auwww…' the big man on the other side had kicked him again. 'You have failed me, Thomas. And I cannot tolerate failure.' Taking one last look at Thomas, the cowboy pointed his gun and…
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'Special Agent Peter Burke.' It stayed silent for so long that Peter was sure the caller had hung up. 'Hello?' 'It's a dark day when I have to turn to the FBI for information, Suit. It's even darker when you have the lady Suit call me, to tell me that you found Neal.' Peter smiled. Of course. 'Mozzie.' At that Neal looked up from his position at the bed. Silently raising an eyebrow and mouthing to put the phone on speaker. Peter nodded in agreement and put the cell on the nightstand. Mozzie's voice came echoing through the mechanical speakers. 'Honestly Suit, I expected more from you. I mean, have I not helped you in the pursuit of the small criminals in this city? Did my help not earn me some trust and credit? Of course not, I'm a master criminal. How exactly did you mange before Neal and I came along? No, wonder you had such a low crime rate. But that's not the point. I have to hear from the lady Suit that Neal was arrested in Italië. If he is in one of those prisons there, I swear I will come and break him out right now. I knew we couldn't trust you. All Suits are the same. This was a government conspiracy. Was it not? I told Neal not to trust Suits. Now see where it got him…' Peter was quite surprised. He had known Mozzie believed in conspiracy theories, but he had never heard him talk this much. Meanwhile Mozzie was still ranting about conspiracies. He tried to cut in several times, every time being ignored. Desperate he looked at Neal.
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Neal on the other hand looked quite chipper. He was trying very hard not to laugh out loud. Neal was very good at pushing Peter's buttons. Yet Mozzie had another way of pushing Peter's buttons, which was way more effective to. Neal decided to let him hang just a bid longer. Guessing that Peter hadn't been tested much in the last three months. Well that was definitely going to change. In the meantime Mozzie had started with alien abductions. Neal decided that it was time to safe Peter. 'Aliens, Moz? Really? Have you been watching E.T. again?' Mozzie stopped so suddenly that Neal feared he had a heart attack. 'Neal?' Neal smiled. 'Hey Moz.' 'Neal! How are you? Where you listening all this time? Is it safe? There aren't any aliens are there?' Neal shook his head. Mozzie had been on his own for too long. 'Moz.' Neal tried, but Mozzie continued. It surprised Neal that he didn't stumble over the words. Honestly he was even more surprised that he could actually still follow. In his chair Peter started to chuckle. Neal shot him a dark look and tried the harder approach. 'MOZ!' Finally Mozzie stopped talking. Neal could hear the phone drop to the ground. He decided not to mention it. 'So, Italië?' Mozzie continued.
'Yeah, well you know me. Always the renaissance man. The bread baskets are fantastic though. I'm sorry about taking an early flied. Believe me it was not willingly,' Neal said. Bread basket was the safe word Mozzie had come up with. According to Mozzie a safe word needed to contain two words, because safe word also consisted out of two words. Early flied was another code. It meant that one had to run early without telling the other. Neal took a quick look at Peter. Peter raised an eyebrow and mouthed "bread basket?" Neal shrugged his shoulders. 'Well, I must say that the bread baskets here are not so bad either. Though Estelle and I did wonder about the early flied.' "Guess you and Estelle took a dive into my wine collection?' 'No of course we didn't. But Estelle and I did agree you and June have a good taste.' Neal shook his head. 'Really, I think I have to get some more when I'm back then…' While talking to Mozzie, Neal had totally forgotten the broken ribs. As he tried to move into a more comfortable position a flare of pain shot though his body. 'Neal?' Mozzie asked concerned. 'It's nothing. Don't worry about it.' Though it did not sound convincing, even in his ears. I'm losing my touch. 'You know Mozzie I think it is time for Neal to rest. I will call you back later.' And without any further argument Peter disconnected the phone.
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Just two blocks from the American embassy Ambassador Corn got out of the black sedan. Shaking he stood there, looking at the cars that drove by. Not seeing anything though. All he saw was Thomas on the ground, blood coming out of head. Dead eyes staring into Corns soul. Distracted he ran his hand through his hair, meanwhile smearing the blood over his face. Blinking once more Corn started walking. Silently repeating one sentence. What have I done…?