Start Over, Try Again: Chapter 4
So I am officially back in college! Currently updating from my dorm room. :) Classes start on Tuesday, so I'm going to try and get as much writing done before then. Remember! College only means I won't update as regularly. I won't abandon my stories. :)
Please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar no matter how much I might wish it.
Warnings: Mainly some angst. Some violence. Some child abuse in later chapters.
Shifted Perspective
Neal was trapped, and it was his fault. He was too trusting and let himself get a tracker put on him. He almost slapped himself when he realized he never even asked to see ID, proof that the man he was talking to was actually an FBI agent. For all he knew, 'Peter' was actually a Marshal sent to sweet talk him into coming back.
Well, no Sir. That was not happening. But….
That little doubt was wiggling in the back of his mind, and Neal scowled as it started talking. What if Peter really is an FBI agent? What if he actually is your friend? He's been nothing but kind and patient with you since he's walked through that door. Something about Peter threw him through a loop, and Neal found himself talking and saying more than he meant to.
The man in question was still sitting in his room. He was leaning back in his chair, eyes closed and feigning sleep. Neal wasn't sure how, but he could tell Peter wasn't actually sleeping.
After the man's wife (that part he did believe) had left, the agent hadn't pressed him for anymore information. He didn't pull out his phone to send messages or receive them. He just sat there with his eyes closed pretending to be asleep.
It was starting to grate on Neal's nerves. However, instead of wasting his time glaring at the agent, he poured his open minutes into making paper animals and flowers. His fingers had a mind of their own as they folded and shaped new things. Neal couldn't remember learning certain creations, but his body did, giving a bit more credence to the whole 'amnesia' thing. His mind wandered as his fingers moved, and soon Neal found himself drifting through what he remembered to be his last memory before waking up in the hospital.
Neal had to be careful. His mother had gone to bed a few hours ago, and it was that time of the night where the Marshals would be too tired to notice every little noise. But to be safe, Neal would be as quiet as a mouse.
His sore muscles protested his movements, but he couldn't stay any longer. He had to leave. A part of him felt like a coward, that he was leaving his mom alone with the Marshals, but Neal knew they never laid a hand on her. Besides, she was too drunk half the time to even notice other people were in the house.
Witness Protection had not gone over well with Julienne Bennet. It hadn't gone over well with Neal either, but for different reasons.
For years he had never understood why the Marshals did what they did, but when Ellen told him the truth about his father…it all made sense. His dad was a dirty cop. Even now the thought made his stomach churn. He used to wonder why the Marshals sneered and laughed when he said he wanted to be a cop, a hero, like his dad. Now he knew.
Neal pushed those thoughts from his head as he crept down the stairs to the kitchen. The house was old, and the stairs creaked in multiple places, meaning Neal had to pay close attention to where he stepped. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when he reached the bottom without making a sound. Running his hands over his pockets one more time, ensuring he had the little bit of money on him, Neal slipped over to the back door, turned the lock and fled into the night.
Peter wasn't asleep. He also knew that Neal knew he wasn't asleep. That didn't mean he was going to stop pretending. He was observing Neal through the thinnest of slits between his eyelids.
The kid (and oh how that took on a new meaning for him than it had before) had had a rough day. If Peter hadn't witnessed it first hand, he would have been able to tell from the obvious slump of Neal's shoulders and the way he gently bit the inside of his cheek. Neal, well, the Neal from before, had a habit of biting the inside of his cheek every so often to force himself to pay attention and stay awake when he was worn out. So either his partner had always done it or those little mannerisms didn't just go away with his memories.
Neal seemed to be lost in his own head, and Peter was worried that the young man was going to gnaw right through his cheek. After a couple more minutes of observation, Peter feigned waking. He made sure to make enough noise to get Neal's attention, and sure enough, the young man looked up and stopped chewing his cheek.
"Hey Bud, I'm gonna go grab some food. I'll be right back. Try not to charm the nurses too much while I'm gone." The confused look on Neal's face was both endearing and heart wrenching.
"Uh, yeah sure. No problem." With a stilted nod, Peter left the room in search of sustenance.
As Peter left the room, he nodded to Jones posted outside the door. The walk to the cafeteria was uneventful and Peter simply bought the first thing that looked edible. Lost in thought as he was, the agent didn't notice just how inedible the food was until he was half way finished. The rest swiftly made its way into the trash, and Peter stopped at a vending machine on the way back to Neal's room.
When Peter got back in the room, Jones had a smirk on his face. Peter raised a brow, and Jones gestured to the room.
"That Caffrey charm works memory or no." Peter pursed his lips and entered the room. He found a young nurse attending to Neal. It was obvious that the woman was taken in by the kid's good looks, but Neal himself wasn't even batting his eyelashes at her.
"Hey Bud. You alright?" The nurse jumped like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and Neal's brow furrowed in confusion.
"You were gone for ten minutes, maybe. I think I can stay out of trouble for that long." Peter snorted. Not likely… The nurse looked a bit unsure as to her place now that her excuse for being in the room had runout. Neal seemed a little uncomfortable with her awkward flirting, and Peter had to fight not to laugh. The agent walked over to Neal's bedside and made a show of looking in the water pitcher.
"Would you mind getting Neal here some more water? Staying hydrated and all that." The nurse looked confused for a second before catching on and scrambling out of the room. Neal's brows furrowed together as he looked at the nearly full pitcher. Peter snorted.
"The first thing you do to my wife when you meet her is use the 'puppy eyes', but you don't know how to handle a pretty nurse?" Neal opened his mouth to protest, but the blushing of his cheeks gave him away. Neal's face only got more red, before he finally got out,
"Well…I've never…" The blush got deeper, and Peter just couldn't believe it. Neal Caffrey was saying…?
"Wait…how old are you kid? Well, how old do you think you are?" Neal crossed his arms and had to fight hard from biting his cheek.
"I'm…sixteen." Peter felt lightheaded all of a sudden and sat down on the edge of the narrow hospital bed.
"You're…oh my gosh." Peter dropped his head into his hands. He could hear Neal shifting behind him, but didn't look up.
"Look…I don't see what the big deal is. It's…I mean it's not like I'm sixteen now." Neal winced at his awkward speech but Peter only sighed. He finally pulled his head back up after a few moments.
"You're right. You aren't, even if you don't remember it. Sorry. I-" Neal stayed silent, feeling awkward and unsure of himself. The FBI agent had lost a friend and Neal didn't know how to fix it. And he really did…want to help, despite the loud voice in his head telling him not to trust a Fed. Before either of them could say anything, however, Peter's phone rang. Expecting it to be Diana with information, he quickly answered.
"Burke. Wha- Mozzie?" The strange name and the agent's sudden irritation attracted Neal's attention. "Neal's in the hospital, yes. No! No, Mozzie. Neal has some kind of amnesia There has been no brain washing! No, he's coming to stay with me. Mozzie, if you say one more word about Kennedy and satellites…He'll be fine, Mozzie. Yes." Peter rolled his eyes before hanging up the phone.
"Who's Mozzie?" Peter opened and closed his mouth trying to come up with the right words to describe Haversham.
"Well…he's a friend of yours…" Neal smirked.
"Oh. You mean another criminal." At Peter's raised eyebrows, Neal shrugged. "The way you said 'friend' either suggested partner in crime or you know…more than friends. But considering I know I'm not gay and you seem to be making me out to be a ladies man, I figured this Mozzie guy is a criminal I hang out with." Peter opened and closed his mouth again, before just shaking his head and snorting.
"Well, you're right. But he is a good friend of yours too. From what I've been able to get out of him, you guys met your first day in the city. You beat him at his own card scam. Thick as thieves ever since…literally." Neal took this new information in and furrowed his brow.
"But…if he's my friend…where is he? I guess..unless we aren't good friend. In that case, I get it. I mean why would he-" Peter caught a hint of self-deprecation in Neal's tone and wasn't happy with it.
"Mozzie is an extreme paranoid, germaphobe conspiracy theorist. Trust me, Bud. He really does care about you. You guys are as close as cons get, but he hates hospitals. He'll come see you once you're at my house though. He and my wife are closer friends than I like." Peter's disapproving expression was enough to get Neal to crack a smile. It made Peter happy to know that he was able to lift his young partner's spirits. The moment was soon broken however, when Jones opened the door.
"Peter, Diana found something." The younger agent looked back and forth between the two men on the bed and raised a brow. Peter sighed and patted Neal's shoulder.
"I'll be outside, Bud." The kid rolled his eyes and shooed Peter off.
"Just because I think I'm sixteen doesn't mean I am. I can handle being in a hospital room by myself." Peter snorted at the ridiculous statement and left the room.
"Wait, did Neal just say what I think he said?" Peter nodded.
"Yeah. He says based on what he remembers and if I hadn't told him otherwise he would say he was sixteen. But anyway, what did Diana find?" Jones' hands went to his hips as he began to explain.
"So, turns out Neal's got some friends in Ballistics. They worked double time to try and match the bullets recovered at the scene." Peter wasn't surprised by the information. Neal wandered about chatting to people when he got bored, and Peter has found him in Ballistics more often than not. "They looked like they came from a nine millimeter, but there was nothing in the database that fit the bullets exactly."
"Then this guy's never been caught before or modified his weapon so it didn't leave recognizable marks." Jones tilted his head in acknowledgement.
"Or…this guy built his own gun." Peter narrowed his eyes at the young agent in front of him and crossed his arms. A small incline of Peter's head told Jones to continue. "Diana was digging around and found something. There have been similar cases across the country where the casings recovered on the scenes didn't match any kind of gun on record. In all of the cases, the people the law enforcement officers were tracking got killed before they were taken into custody." Peter's eyebrows rose as the information continued.
"So, definitely a professional and a good one at that. Damn." Jones nodded.
"Yeah. And, Boss? Director Hughes told us that he doesn't want you to come into the office until this case is solved." When Peter opened his mouth to protest, Jones held up his hands. "You can still work the case, but since Neal is going to be at your place recovering, the Director feels it'd be better to have you there to keep an eye on him. I have no doubt that even an amnesiac Caffrey could easily slip by the typical protective custody. That is the last thing we want running around New York." Peter couldn't help a snort of agreement as he ran his hand down his face.
"Peter?" Both agents turned to see El coming down the hallway. Peter opened his arms and just held her for a few moments. Jones rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.
"Hon, while I appreciate the love, is everything alright?" Peter sighed into her hair before finally pulling away.
"Neal just has a way of attracting trouble. That…and he thinks he's sixteen." El's jaw dropped, and it took her a few moments to get words out.
"Oh! Well…um, I didn't think to go grocery shopping for a teenage boy, but…I'm sure I can make it work." Jones barked out a laugh which he was quick to turn into a cough. Peter sent a fond, disapproving look at the younger agent before directing El to the hospital room door.
"I'm sure it'll be fine. But just so you know, I've been put under house arrest until this case is over." El smiled and patted her husband's chest.
"Aw. I'll have both my boys home."
I just love throwing curve balls ;) If you can't tell, I'm going to be going through my own take/version of Neal's time and experiences in Witness Protection. You'll be seeing a lot more of that kind of stuff, don't worry. :)
Please review. :)