Start Over, Try Again: Chapter 10
Of course as soon as I get my free time back, each of my teachers dump 3 projects and a major test on me. Ugh. My brain!
PS The amnesia example Peter thinks about is actually from MY Psych 101 class from last year. I didn't come up with it. It felt applicable.
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.
Let's Clear Some Things Up
Neal looked terrified…of him. Peter didn't know what to do. El had heard the tense quiet from the kitchen and came out to see what was going on. She saw the terrified look on Neal's face and a similar look on Peter's and stepped in.
"Sweetie, is everything okay?" Neal's eyes jumped to El and his breathing started to pick up.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he muttered over and over as he curled up tighter and tighter. Satchmo started whining and was torn between wanting to growl at his owners or comfort the pup on the couch. Elizabeth crouched by Neal's head, blocking the young man's view of Peter.
"Neal, you have nothing to be sorry for. Everything's alright. No one's mad. I promise." Neal's eyes had been firmly locked on El when she was speaking, but they kept flicking worryingly over her shoulder towards Peter. It finally clicked in El's head. Neal must have heard them yelling upstairs. He was scared that…he was scared of Peter. "Neal, he's not mad. Are you, Peter?"
The agent had been watching the interaction and had caught on to the same thing his wife had. He was quick to crouch down beside his wife and stop looming menacingly over his partner.
"Of course not, Buddy. I promise, I'm not mad at you. I'm just…scared. I'm mad at myself that you got hurt. You did nothing wrong, Neal." The young man didn't look entirely convinced, but he uncurled a bit.
"Y-you're not mad that…that I yelled at you?" Peter shook his head.
"No, Bud. I was pressing you when I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." Neal suddenly barked out an incredulous laugh that seemed to startle even him. The kid was still shaking, but he closed his eyes and tried to take some deep breaths.
"This whole situation is just crazy." Peter couldn't help but snort at Neal's observation.
"You could say that again." El and Peter let Neal try and calm down, and after a few minutes the young man succeeded. He opened his eyes and sat up.
"Sorry about that. Doc wasn't kidding when he was talking about emotional distress and panic. Feels like I could cry at the drop of a hat. Or turning into a shaking mess apparently." The biting edge in Neal's words didn't sit well with Peter.
"It's understandable, Bud. You've been knocked around quite a bit, not to mention traumatized." Neal sighed and shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess. Just…being a teenager with hormones is hard enough, you know? Now I have even less control over- Wait. Not sixteen. Right. Forgot." Neal pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. El patted Neal's knee.
"You're not alone, Sweetie. We'll help you through this. We understand that this is hard on you." Neal huffed out a breath like 'Yeah, no kidding.' He rubbed circles into his temples and took another deep breath.
"I…I really appreciate everything. I- yeah. It's really nice of you guys." The Burkes smiled warmly at him, and Neal offered them a small one in return. He continued to look at Peter for a few moments, before his smile dropped. Neal bit his bottom lip and looked to be arguing with himself in his head. Peter could only hope it meant Neal was going to tell him something. The kid straightened up and looked Peter dead in the eye.
"If…if I tell you who was on the other end of my phone call will you promise to drop it? It has nothing to do with what happened." Neal gestured to his head where the stitches from his bullet graze were visible. Peter slipped back into his FBI persona (just enough to mean business, but not enough to upset El again).
"Tell me, and I'll be the judge of that." When Neal opened his mouth to argue, Peter held up a hand. "Neal, you can't remember who shot you. I won't dig too deep, unless I find out that it is linked. I just want to find the person who did this to you, Bud." Neal clenched his jaw and glared at the floor for a few moments. Finally, he gave a terse nod.
"Okay. Just- okay. It was my mom." Peter's eyebrows met his hairline, and El swallowed back a gasp. She had never thought about Neal's family. It just…didn't seem to fit with his lone wolf, suave attitude.
"Your mother is in Witness Protection?" Neal nodded again, not saying anything. Then something else pinged in the back of Peter's mind. "Wait, what about you? Wouldn't yo- Oh my gosh. Neal, did you run away from Witness Protection!?" Neal reached a hand back and squeezed the back of his neck.
"Well, according to the calendar and you that was actually years ago, so I don't see how it's an issue." Peter dropped his face into his hands and took a moment to breathe, not letting his anger get the best of him again.
"Neal, whoever was after you before could have finally found you. That could be what this is." Neal opened and closed his mouth, unable to come up with a counter-argument. After a long moment, Peter stood and pulled out his phone. "I'm going to call Jones and Diana. Hopefully they will be able to do some digging, without alerting the Marshals. I can't promise they won't get involved though." Neal's head hung down, the kid the perfect picture of defeat.
Peter stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm not throwing you back to the wolves, Neal. I don't know why you thought it a better option to run from the Marshals than stay, but I'm not just going to hand you back over. I can easily argue that you are safer now than you were before, being a completely new person and all." Neal nodded solemnly, not meeting Peter's gaze. Peter left to go back out on the patio, and El reached over and pat Neal's knee, before standing.
"I'm going to get back to fixing up something to eat. I was just going to make some sandwiches, is that alright with you, Neal? Anything you don't like on them?" Neal gave El a kind smile.
"That's fine with me, El. Thank you. Just…no mayo if anything." El smiled and nodded.
"Alright, Sweetie. I'll be back in a couple minutes." Once both Burkes were out of the room, Neal fell back against the back of the couch. His hands covered his face and he let out a deep sigh. He was really starting to wish he had managed to sneak out of the hospital rather than staying. Satchmo whined at him from the floor, and Neal pulled his hands away.
"What, Satchmo? Are you upset with me too?" The dog whined again and pawed at the couch. Neal slowly lowered himself onto his side until his face was directly opposite Satchmo's. The dog scooted forward and happily licked his nose. Neal's face scrunched up, but it didn't stop his involuntary smile. He pushed Satchmo back to a safer distance and scratched the dog's head. Neal tried his best not to look, but he kept sneaking glances behind Satchmo, through the windows to where Peter was talking to Jones about what Neal had told him.
Though Neal knew, from what he was told, that he didn't just run away two days prior, that he wasn't actually sixteen, it still felt fresh. It felt like a betrayal, that even though his mother stopped being a mother to him a long time ago, he could have just put her in great danger. His eyes skidded over the pad of paper on the coffee table.
A strong wave of hatred engulfed Neal for a few seconds. He was blinded by red, and when he came to, it was to shredded paper in his hands. Said hands shook. When Neal had calmed a bit, he carefully gathered up all of the shredded paper (even taking a piece from Satchmo's mouth) and went into the kitchen.
El was putting sandwiches on plates and was very pointedly not judging in her glances.
"The trashcan in under the sink, Sweetie." Neal couldn't stop the blush that colored his cheeks. She had heard him ripping stuff to shreds like a toddler throwing a tantrum and let him do it. El didn't glare at him or scold him. She let him have his emotions and didn't judge. Neal's heart ached for the times when his mother had been like that. El motioned for Neal to follow her to the kitchen table, and she laid out their lunch. She had even whipped up a quick salad to go with it.
"Thanks, El. This looks really good." El snorted and waved a hand.
"It's just sandwiches, but thank you, Sweetie. I don't know how long Peter's going to be so- Well, speak of the devil." Peter Burke had just opened the back door and froze, a confused look on his face.
"Who's the devil?" El smiled fondly and rolled her eyes.
"Just come in and sit down, Hon. Food's ready." Peter didn't need anymore coaxing, and soon happily munched on his deviled ham sandwich. Neal couldn't help but scrunch up his nose at what the agent was eating. Peter smirked.
"Well, it seems your dislike of my taste in food was always there." Neal snorted softly at that but shook his head.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Deviled ham is disgusting, and everyone knows it. You're just weird." Peter's jaw fell open, and El's hand went to her mouth to block the giggle that threatened to escape. The look of complete innocence on Neal's face as he asked, 'What?' was what did her in. Soon she was full out laughing at Peter, and her husband sputtered. When she calmed down she was only able to get a few words out.
"It's true, Hon. It's nasty." Peter pouted down at his sandwich.
"I don't think it is," he muttered, then followed the comment up with an extra big bite….which he promptly choked on.
Neal and El both burst out laughing then, as Peter had a coughing fit between them. When Peter finally got his breath back, he glared at the two of them.
"I hate both of you." That sent Neal and El into a new fit of giggles, but eventually, the mirth ended and they finished their respective sandwiches in peace. As Neal helped El clear things away, there came a knock at the door. They all shared the same surprised and confused expression, before Peter got up to answer it.
His eyebrows shot up upon seeing who it was.
"Director Hughes! Uh, come in, Sir." Hughes smirked at the agent's flustered expression, but did as bid. He nodded to El and Neal when they came out of the kitchen at Peter's exclamation.
"So, Peter, want to tell me why I'm getting complaints from the US Marshals that we are being uncooperative? Not to mention they've been complaining about someone trying to dig through old, confidential case files?" Peter couldn't help but feel guilty, like he had been brought into the principal's office for stick gum under the seat. But then he remembered how the Marshals acted in his home and the guilt was quickly swept away.
"They came to my home and imposed on my wife while I wasn't here. They then proceeded to insult both me and Neal. When I refused there barely veiled threatening help, they childishly shoulder chucked Neal into Diana, nearly knocking them both into the ground. Then, just a little while ago, Neal revealed that he…he ran away from Witness Protection when he was sixteen. I thought it might have something to do with the case and asked Jones to look into it…Sir." Peter waited for the reprimand, silently hoping that El and Neal would sneak back into the kitchen and pretend they don't hear anything.
Instead, the Director sighed.
"Burke, I don't like them as much as you do, in fact I have a few choice names for Thick Head 1 and 2, but I have to be polite and at least pretend I'm working with them. Next time you want to go around them, talk to me. Don't have your junior agents go snooping through confidential files for you." Peter's head whipped up, eyes wide in shock that his boss wasn't screaming at him. He quickly shut his mouth and cleared his throat.
"Yes, Sir. I'll be sure to go directly to you." Reese smirked.
"Good. I'd hate to have to drag you into my office for a formal talk on interagency cooperation. Is that clear?" Peter nodded vigorously.
"Yes, Sir. Loud and clear." Reese nodded.
"That's what I like to hear, Burke. Now, do you want to explain to me why you had Jones and Berrigan digging through classified US Marshal files? They were only able to give me a feeble excuse before the two Jockheads came in." So, Peter explained what Neal had told him, and why he was led to believe that Neal's dealings with the Marshals might have led to the kid being shot.
Reese leaned back in his chair.
"I don't know, Burke. Ten years is a long time to not do anything. Then again, we've had some real crazies crawl back out of the woodwork after a couple decades. Has Neal told you why he was in protective custody?" Peter shook his head. Reese didn't even turn his head to call for the young man.
"Neal, come here. I want to talk to you, Son." Neal who had heard the whole conversation, slowly came around the corner. Reese nodded towards the empty seat next to Burke and waited until the kid sat down before continuing.
"Now, you are going to tell me why you were in Witness Protection and why you ran away. Is that clear?" Neal nodded, but his hands were shaking terribly. Maybe…he should lie.
This whole story is just one massive roller coaster. Lol. But it's a fun one. ;)
Tell me what you think!...Please. ;)