Grrr, I am so sorry for how I keep putting this story on the backburner. I've gotten into Star Trek fanfiction recently, and I've been totally inspired with stories for that genre, that everything else is just getting pushed aside. And then I was on a Hawaii Five-0 kick, going through the fanfiction stories, and re-watching pretty much the entire first season… Right now, it's Harry Potter. I really think I need to get a life. I guess I really can't help when the obsession hits. I'm really trying to finish all of my stories, though, so like I've said several times, this will be completed.
Disclaimer: I still do not own
Neal opened his eyes, confused and breathing heavily; it took him a moment to remember where he was. But then he recognized the plain white ceiling, and the comfortable queen sized bed with the soft sheets and warm blanket. He was in Peter and Elizabeth's guest room. He sighed in relief. These nightmares were really getting old. He hadn't had one in years, before his brief stay in the hospital.
He let out another sigh, this time much more weary, before taking a deep breath and holding it as he carefully sat up. He gasped a little in pain as his ribs protested the movement, but he didn't stop.
It took several minutes, but eventually, he was vertical. Once that task was accomplished, he took a moment to just orient himself to the position. He felt suspiciously light headed, but it passed soon enough. Running his good hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth the tangles, he slowly made his way out of the room.
He heard the telltale sounds of people making breakfast in the kitchen, but his first destination was the bathroom. Once that mission was accomplished, he backtracked, entering the warm – in every sense of the word – room, managing a smile that didn't entirely feel false for both the FBI agent and his wife. Elizabeth was at the stove, cooking what smelled like bacon and eggs, while Peter leaned against the counter next to her, coffee mug in hand. As soon as Neal entered, he immediately poured a cup, holding it out for the former felon.
Neal muttered something that was probably the equivalent of a thank you, had the conman been awake and coherent enough to think straight. As it was, it sounded more like 'mrmksh'.
Peter held in the snort, but showed a small half smile. "You're welcome," he replied. Apparently, Neal wasn't as much of a morning person as he had thought.
Neal nodded and sat at the table, setting the cup down after a long sip before adjusting his posture slightly in an attempt to relieve the pain in his ribs.
"Are you hungry?" Elizabeth asked, glancing over her shoulder as she slid the contents of several pans onto two plates.
Neal shrugged with his good shoulder. "A little," he conceded, focusing on the plate that Elizabeth brought to the table.
Peter was right behind his wife with plates and silverware for each of them. Elizabeth didn't give Neal the chance, and immediately piled his plate with food. She wasn't normally this forward, but she knew Neal hadn't been eating much, and he looked like he was losing an unhealthy amount of weight.
Neal managed a small smile as the woman set the food in front of him. The three of them ate their breakfast in silence, Peter and Elizabeth watching their house guest closely while trying to pretend otherwise, and Neal knowing what the other two were doing and politely ignoring it.
Soon enough, Peter was leaving for work, nodding a goodbye towards Neal and kissing his wife. Elizabeth saw her husband out before returning to the table. The former conman was still working his way through the food in front of him, eating slowly and in small pieces. He was on his second cup of coffee, and it looked like he might soon be ready for a third.
Elizabeth let out a quiet sigh before she sat back down. She really missed the old Neal. This quiet man was not the friend she had come to trust and respect over the last few years.
"How is it?" she asked, after watching him push around the rapidly cooling eggs for several minutes. There was no response. "Neal?"
"Hmm?" Neal looked up, startled, eyes wide.
Elizabeth smiled slightly, though she felt no real joy in it. Instead, there was a hollow sorrow at how distant he was. "Is breakfast all right?" she asked again.
Neal looked down at his plate, still half full. "It's great," he replied, setting his fork down and looking back up, a slight apology in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm not that hungry."
Elizabeth nodded and leaned forward in her seat. "I know, Neal. Just like I know that you know you need to eat. Can you please finish what's on your plate? For me?"
Neal looked back at his plate, trying to bite down the sudden nausea. Elizabeth was right; he knew he needed the food. He considered protesting, but she had said please. Dutifully, he picked his fork back up and slowly but surely, cleaned his plate.
Elizabeth watched him silently, picking up his plate when he was finished, and moving over to the sink to start cleaning up. Neal watched her move about the kitchen, his eyes weary but alert, monitoring her every movement. Elizabeth tried not to let it unnerve her.
Finally, when the kitchen was back in order, Elizabeth turned back to the former conman. "I have a few errands to run today, Neal, would you like to come with me?"
The polite refusal was on his lips when Neal made the mistake of actually looking at the woman. She looked earnest, worried, and genuinely seemed to want him to accompany her. He bit his lip, before replying quietly, "Sure."
Elizabeth nodded, pleased, as Neal stood up, looked around for a moment, and then asked, just as subdued, "Do I have any clothes here?"
The woman smiled, and moved into the living room, picking up a bag from the floor by the couch. She turned back to the consultant. "June dropped this off yesterday. You should find everything you need in here."
Neal took the bag silently, and walked back to the guest room. He stopped on the threshold and looked back. "Thanks," he said, before continuing into the room, closing the door behind him.
Elizabeth continued staring at the door even after the former felon disappeared behind it. She really missed the old Neal.
Half an hour later, the two of them were leaving the house. They drove mostly in silence, until Neal finally spoke, still looking straight ahead as his good hand absentmindedly fiddled with the cast on his other wrist. "What errands do you need to run?"
Elizabeth turned her head slightly to study the man before refocusing her gaze on the road. "I need to stop by the office, and then check out the location of an event I'm catering next week."
Neal nodded, trying to quell the guilt that presented itself at that moment. Peter and Elizabeth had put their lives on hold for him. Elizabeth surely had things she needed to do; after all, she had her own business to attend to. And now she was playing babysitter to him. "I'm sorry," he said softly, looking down at his lap.
Elizabeth looked back over in confusion. "For what?" she asked.
Neal shrugged with his good shoulder. "That I'm imposing. You've both got your own lives, I never meant to…"
He trailed off as Elizabeth shook her head. "Neal, you're not imposing. I want to help, I want to be there for you. We're friends, aren't we?"
Neal didn't answer, thinking that over. Were they friends? Sometimes he thought so, until he remembered that he was just supposed to be some guy who worked with her husband. They weren't supposed to be friends. Under normal circumstances, they wouldn't be.
But it wasn't normal circumstances. He wasn't just Peter's partner. Somehow, over the last couple of years, he and Peter had become something more. Something bigger. They had become family. And that meant that he and Elizabeth had become family. It should have been an unsettling thought; Neal had gone so long not knowing that feeling of acceptance, he had forgotten what it was like. It felt… good. Weird good, but still good.
Elizabeth waited, watching him think out of the corner of her eye as she adeptly maneuvered the New York City traffic, trying not to acknowledge the worry that cropped up as the minutes passed without an answer.
It wasn't until she pulled into a parking spot in front of her office that the former felon finally spoke.
"I don't know."
It was quiet, and seemingly out of the blue. Elizabeth put the car in park and turned it off, before moving to look at her husband's partner. "What?" She couldn't decide if her confusion was because of the actual answer Neal had given her, or just the fact that he had given her what sounded like an honest one. Not that she didn't know Neal could be honest, she just knew he usually wasn't. He was a conman, after all; she had no allusions about just how much he used dishonesty in his daily life.
Neal couldn't look her in the eye. He remained focused on his lap, his good hand fingering his cast as he worked his way through the though process. "We're not supposed to be." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Elizabeth's gaze narrow, and he saw her bite her lip, the way he knew she did when she was confused. "I'm a conman; you're the wife of an FBI agent. Even with that aside, we just don't run in the same circles. We're not supposed to be friends. We shouldn't even know each other…" He trailed off for a moment, and Elizabeth instinctively knew not to say anything. She felt like she was getting a glimpse of something very few people had ever gotten to see. As much as she and Peter had been privy to over the last few days, this was different. Finally, Neal continued, his voice quiet and contemplative. "we're not supposed to be, but we are. I can't remember the last time I was able to spend time with someone who didn't demand something from me in return. Sometimes, with you and Peter…" he trailed off again, but only for a moment, and his voice dropped in volume yet again when he finished the train of thought. "Sometimes I can almost imagine what it's like to have a family."
Elizabeth had to swallow and count to ten, to make sure she had her emotions firmly under control. She reached out slowly, giving Neal time to see the gesture and prepare himself, before she gently rested her hand on his knee, squeezing reassuringly. She said nothing, simply let the act serve as a response. It only lasted a few moments, before she withdrew her hand and opened the car door. "I'll be back in a few moments," she said, and waited for Neal to nod before she exited the vehicle.
She waited until she was inside, heading up to her office, before she pulled out her cell phone and called her husband. She barely waited until she heard Peter's greeting before grinding out, "He thinks of us as family."
Peter was silent for a moment. "What happened?" he asked cautiously. He knew that tone of voice; Elle was upset, but there was an undercurrent of happiness there that had him very curious.
Elizabeth paused to take a deep breath. Distantly, she began to dig through some papers on her desk, searching for the contracts she needed. "Neal," she explained. "We might be the only family he's ever known. I don't know what I did, I just asked if we were friends, and he just went off on how under normal circumstances, we shouldn't even know each other, but we do, and how it almost feels like family."
Elizabeth trailed off, and all Peter could here was a rustling of papers in the background, as he processed what his wife had just told him. In a way, he wasn't surprised that Neal had opened up to Elizabeth; it might induce a tiny bit of jealousy, after all Neal was his partner, but Elle just had a way about her; it was a soothing presence that put most people at ease. Neal was no exception.
"He's right, Elle." He heard the rustling stop, and he knew his wife was focusing completely on their conversation now. "We are family. I don't know how it happened, but it's true. A couple years ago, I wouldn't have been able to stand the idea; Hell, even a couple of weeks ago, I would have resisted. But I don't think I've ever been so scared as when I saw Neal go down. And seeing him lying there, unconscious… Elle, somehow he wormed his way into our family, and I don't think I could ever get him to leave. Even if I wanted to."
Elizabeth let out a half snort. Well, if she were less ladylike, it would have been called a snort. "Even if you wanted to, I wouldn't let you," she replied, chuckling. It sounded slightly watery, indicating to her husband that she was either crying or on the verge of.
That worried him. "Sweetie?"
Elizabeth sniffed. "I just hate this so much!" she let out, rubbing her forehead roughly, before wiping the tears away. "Neal doesn't deserve any of this. He's so sweet, and caring. Do you think he would have turned to crime if he had grown up in a different environment?"
Peter paused, thinking it over. He had had to think a lot about the felon over the years. Like Diana and Jones, he had never seen Neal as the criminal type, though he usually tried to pass it off as Neal just being a good actor. Not anymore. Now that he knew that Neal was the best actor he had ever seen, he also knew that his earlier suspicions were correct. Something had turned Neal to crime, and he had a suspicion of what it was. Elizabeth was right.
"No, I don't," the FBI agent replied, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. "I think he was a brilliant kid with a bright future, and because of that… man… a lot of doors have closed for him. I don't think his life is over, by any stretch, but it's definitely not going to be easy." Peter grit his teeth as his thoughts turned unwillingly to the man who dared call himself Neal's father. If he ever met the son of a bitch… He made a mental note to look up that file and see if the man had ever been caught. If not, he would certainly be willing to rectify that.
Elizabeth let out a half chuckle at Peter's words. "Neal would never choose the easy way out, even if it was an option. Surely after all this time, you've realized that."
Peter nodded, even though he knew his wife couldn't see him. "I'm cutting my day short, so I'll be home soon," he changed the subject, knowing that it wouldn't halt it forever, but also knowing that it wasn't the type of conversation that he – or Elizabeth – wanted to have on the phone.
"Sounds good," Elizabeth replied. "Neal and I are out running a few errands right now, but it shouldn't take too much longer."
Peter raised an eyebrow. He wondered how his wife had managed to get Neal out of the house. "Love you." As soon as he heard his wife echo him, he hung up, and turned back to his work, hoping to finish up quickly and get back to his… family. As much as he accepted the fact, he did think including Neal in that word would take some getting used to.
Wow, I know… too long! Sorry! I sort of hit a wall, and wasn't sure where to take this story next, and then… half a year passed. So to all of you who have stuck with me, thank you! Especially the reviewer who asked me not to forget about this story while reviewing another one of my fics! Made me go all warm and fuzzy inside.
Please review!