"Neal?" Peter explained, astonished. He had not been expecting him to call. "Where are you?"
"Really?" Neal replied, "I call after months of radio silence and that's the first thing you ask?"
"After months of radio silence that's a good question to ask," Peter told him, "You could've been dead for all we know."
"I figured you had Dianna and Jones on this too." Neal said.
Peter was silent.
"Yeah, I know you've been looking for me," Neal said, "For about two weeks now, though knowing you this had been going on longer. Even after I asked you not too."
Peter finally found his voice again. "I didn't at first," He said, "But then I discovered a lot of the files of you had been redacted and blocked even to me and I wanted to know what's going on. " After a moment he added, "And I still do. Neal, whatever you've gotten yourself involved in-there's literally nothing on it. It's like it's somehow been erased from the face the of the earth, hell, I tried putting it in a search engine once and my computer fired. " He paused a minute, then asked, "What on earth have you gotten yourself into?"
"Nothing you need to know," Neal said firmly, "Peter, look, I'm a big boy, I can handle myself. I've been here for the last eight months and I'm still breathing, and vertical, and in one piece. You need to stop investigating."
"Tell what Torchwood is, and I will." Peter said, equally firm.
Neal was silent for a moment. "How do you know that name?"
"A sectary I talked to overheard someone mention it." Peter let slip out, startled by the coldness Neal's voice had taken. He had never heard him sound like that before. "But it was all I could find. Just a name."
"Good." Neal said, "But what about the photos? Where did you get them?" Neal figured that as long as he had Peter on the phone, he should find out where those had come from.
"What pictures?" Peter asked.
"I know you have pictures of a girl," Neal said, "That's how I found out you were looking for me, you showing them around."
"So, that couple, they lied?"Peter asked.
"That's not important Peter," Neal practically scolded, "And no more bothering them. They have enough on their plate and they don't even know me."
"Alright," Peter said, "I won't bother them again."
"Good." Neal said, "Where did you get those anyway?"
Figuring that if Neal knew he was scaring the crap out of not just him, but everyone else as well, he'd relent a little, Peter said, "Okay, you want to know who gave me the photos? Mozzie gave them to me." He gave Neal a moment to process that.
After a second of salience Neal said, " Well, where did he get them?"
"He saw you two and took them," Peter said, "Then he brought them to me at two in the morning, that's-"
"Why'd he bring them you?" Neal cut him off, "Why didn't he just come up and talk to us like a normal person?"
"I don't know if you'd noticed but he's not exactly normal," Peter said, "He told me he started to approach you, but decided not to. He brought them to me because he didn't know what else to do. He's worried about you, Neal. We both are."
"Oh, good Lord," Neal groaned, rubbing a hand across his face, "Why does everyone think I'm this fragile thing all of a sudden?! "
"We don't think that, we know you can handle yourself," Peter assured her, "It's just-come on Neal, you get this mysterious offer from people who are even more mysterious than said offer and then you cut off everyone you've ever known, what are we suppose to think?"
"Says the man who knows exactly what to think," Neal said," You know I leave everything behind. I recreate myself."
Peter had nothing to say to that because he knew Neal was right. He did know that.
"See, you don't have an answer to that one," Neal said, "But still you're about to be the death of me."
Then Peter remembered Mozzie's belief the Neal had been forced to join this team against his will."Neal, did the people you work for find out I've been looking into you?" Peter asked, "Are they threatening you? Did they make you call me? Did they hurt you over this?"
"What? ," Neal exclaimed, "No, why would you-" then he remembered what he had said, "That's just an expression, Peter. No one's threatening me, I haven't been hurt, and the only reason I haven't called was because I didn't think it'd be a good idea."
"Why not?" Peter asked.
"I think you know why," Neal said, "You would demand an explanation for what I was doing, and we can't have that in my new line of work. We deal with a lot of covert stuff, so the job does require some secrecy."
"Oh, so now you're a spy or something?" Peter replied.
"Or something," Neal responded, "Look, the point is, I don't want you getting messed up in this."
"I can take care of myself too, Neal," Peter said.
"That's not the point," Neal said, then paused a minute, rubbing his head in his hand, "I knew this was a mistake."
They were both silent foe a minute, when Peter said, "I'm sorry Neal. I'm not meaning to cause you any trouble, I just-I just want to know you're safe."
"I am, Peter," Neal said, "Well, relatively, at least. For now, that's just gonna have to be enough for you." Neal wasn't sure he could give Peter any more information without the later running amok. "Look, I promise I will call you again, okay?"
"Okay," Peter said, "So I guess that means I'll be talking to you again."
"Maybe," Neal said, hoping the promise of future contact might get Peter to cool it, "If you do what I ask of you this time."
"What I ask of you?" Peter repeated, unable to help himself, "Who says that? And how am I suppose to contact you?"
"You won't," Neal said, "I'll be the only engaging contact, at least for now. So, how are things going which you?"
"Oh no," Peter said, "If you're not telling, I'm not telling. I can be just as mysterious as you."
"Oh, come on," Neal urged, "At least tell me how things are going back at the office."
"Same old, same old," Peter replied, then looking down at his watch said, "Speaking of work I'm gonna be late, so I gotta go."
"Alright then," Neal said, "Good-bye."
"Good-bye," Peter repeated.
And with that the pair hung up.
Neal laid down on the bed, and said aloud, "I really hope I haven't made things worse."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the pond, Peter checked to make sure their conversation had been recorded. He knew Neal meant well, but he couldn't just stop. He the more he dug, the more either he came up empty, found something weird or both, and he wasn't about to stop. If Neal knew what had he had found just last week, he's understand.
Diana had came to him with a young woman named Pam whose brother Noah had worked with the CIA. She found that out after he died in an explosion.
At first she wasn't sure if she should tell what she knew. She kept her face down and fidgeted in place. "It's alright," Diana encouraged her, "Just tell him what you told me and showed him what you found."
Pan pulled a file out of her light pink coat, "We, me and my parents, were looking through the things at Noah's apparent in a drawer on his desk. He must have brought it home from work. I think a lot of its missing, and it's been redacted, but from what I got it's about something called Torchwood." She handed the file to Peter, who took it, "When I heard you were looking into it, I thought you might want it, though, I don't know how much good it'll do you."
Peter flipped through the papers, they were redacted, but at last these had some pictures. Not just the man in the coat, either, a dark-haired woman, a man in suit, another man with brown hair and matching eyes, and a Asian woman. "And let me guess," He said, as he flipped through them, "All you got from was a name."
"Well, I did find something else." Pam said.
Peter looked up in surprised. "What?"
"Anyone who worked with this-this Torchwood thing...they're dead. All of them. Killed and action or something. And they all died young. "
Peter didn't respond, but gripped the file tight.
"If I were you, I'd be careful," Pam said, then ran out the door.
The encounter, as witch everything else that involved Torchwood did, it seemed, left more questions than answers, but it made Peter more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this. He had to find Neal ,had to figure out what Torchwood was.
No matter what.