"Diana… Jones." Neal breathed their name in his quiet voice, seemingly testing them out as though saying their names would make them vanish.

He looked away, feeling tears pricking the back of his eyes. Clinton cleared his throat awkwardly, swallowing a few times against the thickness in his throat.

"Thank God," he admonished, closing the gap and enveloping Neal in a warm hug. Neal made no move to step away from Peter, and so the hug was a bit awkward with Peter's hand still on the back of Neal's neck, but he'd be damned if he cared.

Neal reciprocated the hug with his right arm, keeping his left casually resting against Peter, needing that tangible grip on the older man.

Neal and Jones sniffled at the same time and then laughed at their emotional reunion.
Jones stepped back but kept his arm on Neal's shoulder. Tears shone brightly in his warm brown eyes; he didn't say a word, just smiled and drank in the beautiful reality that Neal was alive, safe, home. Jones smiled, overcome with emotion, and cleared his throat.

"Neal, I—"
"Me too, Jones," Neal said, his voice clipped as he tried to maintain his composure. Good to know that Neal was ever the reader.

"Dammit, Neal," Diana interrupted the moment, suddenly beside Jones. She thought back to the last time she had seen Neal, the last time the two had touched. She'd been certain Neal was dead and had rested her hand over his heart. Unconsciously mirroring the action, she caught Neal gasp. Perhaps he remembered, or perhaps her uncharacteristic need to touch him merely surprised him.

Jones took a step back from Neal, albeit a miniscule one, and awkwardly plucked his hands from Neal. He sort of hovered, looking from Neal to Peter.

Is this real? he seemed to question.
Peter caught his eye and gave a small nod, smiling, before returning his gaze to Neal.

Diana seemed fixated on her hand, on its placement on Neal's chest.
Neal seemed to understand and covered her smaller hand with his right hand, again leaving his other hand resting against Peter as though he needed that anchor. And maybe he did.

"Diana…"

At this point, Diana did something that she had only done three times in her life.
The first had been when Charlie had died saving her life.
The second had been when she was turned away from prom, she and her girlfriend shunned.
The third had been when she had thought Neal was dead, when she'd walked in on his death tango with the stairs, with James Bennett. His name flashed red in her mind.

And dammit, Neal would be the one to appear on that short list more than once.

Diana cried. She tried to hold back, but once the floodgates opened…
Because Neal was right here, and she could feel his heart, and he wasn't dead, he wasn't dead like Charlie, he was alive, and-

Neal pulled Diana close to him so that her face rested against his chest, and he just held her. He relinquished his anchor to Peter and became Diana's anchor. He held her tightly, one hand in her hair, and she held him just as tightly, if not moreso. If she was hurting him, he didn't let on.. though honestly, she didn't think she could have let go even if she'd wanted to.

Peter watched, his heart full, at his white collar family. He sniffled, blinking away phantom tears, and wasn't he just a sap today.

His heart swelled at the tenderness between Neal and Diana, and he thought he heard Neal whispering something to Diana, but he couldn't discern what it was. Hesitantly, she pulled away. She and Neal exchanged a deep look before smiling, a quiet and meaningful smile. Diana stepped back so that she was nearer to Jones.

She cleared her throat, but her voice was husky and thick. "Jones, we should go and give Neal some space. Hughes will probably let leave early."

Jones smiled at her. "Yeah, first round's on me. Peter… Caffrey..." Everyone smiled at the name.
"I look forward to drinking some beer and catching up—or in Neal's case, some fancy wine or something." Again, they all quietly chuckled, their eyes wet and their hearts full.

Jones took one step towards Neal and placed his hand on the man's shoulder oncemore.
"It's so good to see you, Neal. Peter?" Peter nodded at him, and the two smiled again as Jones raised his trembling hands to wipe at his eyes.

Diana looked at Neal and nodded at him, that same secret smile exchanged between the two of them.

With that, Jones and Diana left, closing the door behind them.

Neal turned so that he was facing Peter again. He seemed unable to find words, and so Peter found them for him.

"What do you say we go home?"

* * *

The next chapter will provide some clarification on just what it is that Neal went through and what detained him for six months. Similarly, I'm working on more tearful reunions and… well… maybe just a smidge of angst and whump. Oy.