This story is a bit AU because there was not nearly enough time for this in canon, but here's what could have happened if there were.
Season five was really weird for me because I absolutely adored David Siegel (who deserved so much better!!!) and wanted to see way more of him and Neal, while also hating with every bone in my body the angst between Peter and Neal and the fact that Peter wasn't his handler. Yeah, it was difficult to reconcile, but here's me trying to do that.
Also, I never ever stopped loving Peter but season 5 had me wanting to give him a good shake. Season 3 angst was Neal's fault but Season 5 was all on Peter, so this fic is Siegel giving him a shake for me.
Yes, this story is AU, yes everyone could be a bit OOC, but honestly I just loved having them realize how much they mean to each other so hopefully you can forgive me.
Neal had no idea how long Peter had spent looking for his new handler. Background checks were only the most basic level of the search, Peter had gotten extensive testimonials from friends, coworkers, superiors—Siegel had been one of the only choices in the end.
Young, straightlaced, sharp as whip, and a bit idealistic, he got nothing less than glowing reviews from everyone in Chicago—with the Chicago ASAC joking that he was tempted to lie and say that David Siegel was a jerk, just so they could keep him. But what won Peter over in the end was a testimony from the janitor of the building Seigel worked at. No person was too low to be treated with respect in David Siegel's book and it was obvious.
If Peter was honest with himself he saw young Peter Burke in young David Siegel.
Peter smiled as he saw Neal and David interacting on their first full day working together and pushed down the stab of worry. The change was for Neal's good just as much as his own, he knew that, but it wouldn't be a easy.
He trusted David Siegel, but even so he couldn't help his imagination running away with all kinds of horrible scenarios. Thoughts of finding out months later that young Siegel had been hiding a sadistic streak and Neal had been subject to it, images of Neal getting shot on an op and Peter not being there, it would be Peter's fault, all Peter's fault—Peter shoved the thoughts down with the shake of a head and a wry smile at his own expense. Elizabeth was right about his increasing paranoia it seemed.
Later that evening he gestured Siegel up to his office with a double finger point.
"Sir." Siegel greeted him with a smile. The young agent was never anything less than pleased to be summoned to Peter's office. Peter had realized with no small embarrassment from some of the younger agent's words earlier that working with him, Peter Burke, was apparently the dream of many a young agent and probie across the country.
"David, sit down for a moment." Siegel sat down and looked at Peter expectantly. Peter found himself searching for a way to express his thoughts, tapping a pen almost nervously on his desk. Finally he looked up, "You know I was Neal's old handler of course, but I don't think I ever really told you why we needed a new one." Siegel looked confused,
"You became ASAC sir." Peter nodded,
"Well, yes, but that wasn't the real reason."
"It wasn't?"
"No." Peter paused for a long moment, his next words spilling out almost against his will, "Neal is my friend, David. One of my closest friends now. He has dinner with my wife and I regularly, has slept over on my couch more times than I can count, we've both saved each other's lives—I'm sure you can see where the problem lies as a handler who's supposed to be able to uphold the law. Unless he committed murder I don't think I could slap cuffs on him even if he deserved it." The younger agent nodded,
"I understand sir. I'm here to do what you don't think you can do anymore." Peter nodded, keeping silent about his doubts on how long Siegel would be able to put Neal in cuffs either. Probably only a semi-abusive handler would be able to after a year or so of working with the man, but that would happen over Peter's dead body, and anyway Neal only had a year and a half or so left on his sentence.
"Yes. That's your job. But that's not why I asked you up here. I wanted to tell you—" Peter broke off for a moment, almost changing his mind before plowing on, "just...take care of him David, let me know how he's doing. I'm planning on taking a step back in his life. We'll see each other of course, but I'm going to let other people handle him for a bit. It's best for everyone I think, both of us need a change...for our own good."
There. He had said it. It wouldn't be easy but it was necessary. He sternly ignored the almost tangible ache that came with the words.
Siegel frowned slightly, unintentionally mimicking Elizabeth's expression when Peter had told her his plan, and opened his mouth before seemingly changing his mind and closing it again.
"Of course sir." The words were slightly hesitant but respectful. "I'll keep an eye on him and let you know." Peter nodded and stood, holding out his hand.
"Welcome to White Collar Agent Siegel." Siegel stood up, shook his hand, and walked down to his desk. A frown creased his forehead as he glanced back up to see the slump of his superior's shoulders as Peter sat at his desk.
WCWCWCWCWC
The worst part, Neal thought as he got ready for work several weeks later, was that it was impossible to hate David Siegel. The man was sharp, sharp enough to keep up with him, intelligent, straight laced but able to have fun, and genuinely wanted to work well with the CI. He handled Neal, and handled him well, there was a clear understanding of their positions, but there was also clearly respect in the agent's treatment of his CI. He liked Neal and Neal liked him.
Sure, Siegel was far less inclined to give him the trust and slack that Peter had afforded, but that was to be expected, the relationship with Peter had been built in years not weeks, and David had the potential for that type of relationship.
Neal really couldn't hate him and almost desperately wished he could. If Siegel was a jerk he could blame his unhappiness on something. He would have a good reason for why he didn't wake up with excitement every morning and why his smile and banter seemed to take a lot more effort than they used too.
But as it was life was perfect, aside from the nagging feeling that something—something was missing; something important. The cup just seemed to be a bit more than half empty these days.
Mozzie eyed him askance as he went for an extra glass of wine, certainly more than usual a few nights later,
"Any reason for this unusual streak of melancholy mon freré?" Neal frowned at him but Mozzie was unabashed, "Don't look at me like that, I've known you too long to not see when you're upset young grasshopper." Neal shrugged,
"Just tired Moz." and refused to talk any more about it, ignoring Mozzie's mutterings about "Suit problems".
Neal was walking down the hall the next morning when he heard a voice mention his name. Neal didn't mean to listen in, for once he really didn't, but he was around the corner, hidden in such a way, and the curiosity was natural.
It was Siegel's voice,
"Barrigan? Can I ask you a question about Caffrey?"
"Caffrey?" Diana sounded confused, "Questions about Caffrey are usually directed at Peter, not me."
"Not this one." The agent seemed serious and Diana must have acquiesced, "Has Neal been acting strange to you lately?"
"Strange how?" Diana sounded suspicious, "do you think he's up to something?"
"No, no. That's not what I meant." David seemed to pause and think for a second, rewording his question, "it's just, does he seem down? Less happy than usual or anything?" There was concern in the young agent's voice, "I'm asking because you've worked with him long enough to know, I've only known him for a few weeks. But I thought he'd be a bit more...I don't know..." he trailed away but Diana picked up the thread,
"Troublesome?" She laughed but it died away, "The thing about Caffrey is that he's an excellent con man and if he doesn't want you to know how he's feeling you probably won't, so I have no idea how you picked up on it, but yeah. He usually is more annoying than he has been now that you mention it." There was affection in her tone, and a touch of the concern that was in Siegel's. "He's acting like he usually does when he and Peter aren't on the right page, except this time he isn't trying to flaunt his sulking, he's trying to hide it."
"So he is upset?"
"Yeah. I'd say so."
"Do you know why?"
Diana sighed, "I have an idea. It has to do with you, but not you personally, and really it doesn't have to do with you at all."
"That's not confusing at all Barrigan." David's tone was teasing and Diana laughed,
"Give me a break I'm eight months pregnant! Look," her tone went serious, "I get why Peter called you in Siegel and I don't think it was a bad idea, but Peter's been sulking like anything these past few weeks too and I don't think he even knows it."
There was a moment of silence before David broke it, "They miss each other don't they?" Diana snorted almost bitterly,
"You think? They're working in the same office every day and pining away like Shakespearean maidens while pretending absolutely nothing is wrong." Siegel gave a small snort of laughter. "I don't mean romantically pining." She hastily added prompting another choked laugh from Siegel. She went on with more seriousness, "When they're at odds it's usually Caffrey's fault but this time...this is on Peter. I'm not one to call my boss an idiot but he can't really think he can all but remove himself entirely from Caffrey's life and it won't completely wreck both of them. Not after everything they've been through together."
From the silence and Diana's sudden bark of laughter, Siegel had apparently not taken the insult to his hero well.
"Okay, I probably shouldn't have said it like that but the point still stands, they're like family. They'll both deny it but Peter's been basically like Neal's dad ever since that casefile came across his desk ten years ago..." their voices trailed away as they walked back toward the bullpen, leaving Neal standing around the corner, cheeks burning and mind whirling.
Pining? Like a maidan? After Peter? His Dad???
But against his will the melancholy of the last few weeks began to make more sense, Diana's words placing themselves like a key piece of a puzzle in his mind. The picture grew clear and suddenly, with full force, he knew where the giant hole in his heart had come from. The lack of faux suspicious glances, ribbing about old alleged cons that Seigel wouldn't be familiar with, stories about cases, deviled ham on steak outs, the easy comfort of being around someone who knew you as well as you knew them, the sixth sense the older man had for when something wasn't quite right...Neal missed Peter and Neal needed Peter and Peter wasn't there, at least in any meaningful way, anymore. And that hurt on so many levels.
Peter was everything Neal was not, well raised, strong moral sense, he knew who he was, he knew what was right, and he wanted to give that sense of right and wrong to others. He was everything Neal needed that Neal never admitted he needed, the steady presence that had been there almost from the beginning, the friend who saw past what he was and saw who he was, and pushed him toward the man he could be. But now Peter had stepped away, perhaps he had given up, and Neal was flailing without him.
Diana had hit it right on the nose though his cheeks were still flaming at the description. Pining. Pining for Peter, his stability and care—his friendship. Neal missed everything about their easy camaraderie but more than anything he missed Peter himself.
Neal resisted the childish urge to kick the wall.
Stupid stupid Peter, this was all his stupid fault, and now Neal was pining and even Siegel who had known him for all of a month had noticed and, and——Neal was so disgruntled he didn't notice the footsteps behind him and jumped almost a foot as Peter's voice broke into his thoughts.
"You okay there?" Peter's expression was concerned and like a tidal wave, the longing to see that caring glance directed at him more often—like it used to be—almost drowned Neal, pushing a hard lump into his throat.
He swallowed it down viciously, the word pining echoing through his mind.
"I'm fine." He replied shortly, his tone reminiscent of a snotty teenager, a fact which didn't escape his notice as Diana's words comparing Peter to his father still mocked in his brain.
He turned and fled to the bathroom to painstakingly stitch together the remains of his shattered dignity.
A crease furrowed in Peter's brow as he watched his CI—no, no David's CI flee down the hall, clearly upset about something. It took a lot of willpower to turn and make his way back to his office, to not follow Neal, put a hand on his shoulder, figure out what was wrong, and try to fix it. He was backing off now, for both their sakes. It was David's job to make sure Neal was okay, not his anymore.
He forced himself back to his desk and spent the next two hours studiously not getting anything done.
WCWCWCWCWC
"Sir?" Peter looked up as Siegel stood uncertainly in the door.
"David, come in, what can I do for you?" Peter gestured to the chair and the young agent sat.
"It's about Neal sir." The young agent noticed the flurry of emotions that passed across Peter's face at the mention of the CI's name, fondness, annoyance, a bit of fear about what Neal had done this time, but mostly sadness—longing.
"What about Neal?"
"You asked me to tell you how he was doing." Peter nodded,
"Yeah. Is he settling in?" The ASAC was casual on the face of it but the concern on his face was evident.
"He's not doing well sir." Peter looked startled,
"What's wrong? Did something happen?"
"No sir." The young agent took a breath, "He's lonely. He misses you, I think more than he even realizes."
Siegel didn't fail to notice the way the ASAC's face crumpled slightly at the words and he continued, "He's trying to hide it of course and he's doing a good job, he works well with me, he likes me, but, do you know Sir, when he finds something really exciting or when he's in the middle of figuring something out, he calls me Peter . Doesn't even realize he's doing it." Siegel's expression was fond, a bit wry, he wasn't hurt by the slip up, only hurt in sympathy for the CI. He met Peter's gaze directly, with open frankness, "He misses you as much as you miss him." Peter looked up sharply,
"I don't—" he cut himself off as Siegel raised an eyebrow, daring him to deny it. "Okay, yes I miss working with Neal." His shoulders slumped and he rested his head in his hands, "Dammit I didn't think it would be this hard." The words were quiet, more to himself then to the agent sitting across from him.
He looked up and gazed across the bullpen to the desk where Neal was working diligently. David could see the way his expression perceptibly softened, before twisting again with sadness. The younger agent sat up straighter,
"Sir, if I may be honest with you for a moment." Peter's attention returned to the young handler,
"Of course."
"I know you're trying to step back and I know that you think it's the right thing to do, but I think you're wrong sir." Peter didn't react to the bold words, simply continued his steady gaze. "You're trying to get Neal to replace you with me. With all due respect Peter, that's never going to happen and it's only going to hurt both of you. You brought me here to be his handler and do what you can't, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't keep doing a lot of what you did before. Friends are just as responsible for wellbeing as a handler is for a CI, and if you're anything Peter, you're Neal's friend. Obviously you can't work as many cases together but you can still be his friend, make sure he's okay after an op, have him over for dinner...We can both do that sir, it's not mutually exclusive."
There was silence for a long moment in the office. Peter's gaze had gone back to the bullpen and he was thinking deeply. Finally he broke the quiet,
"You sound like my wife Agent Siegel." Siegel grinned,
"Mrs. Burke is a smart woman." Peter smiled good-naturedly,
"She is. And...she agrees with you." He grew thoughtful, "I want you and Neal to work well together—"
"I know you do sir, and I honestly think this is the best way to do it. And sir, I'm not just saying that as his handler, there's more to Neal Caffrey than the quality of his work and he's a sweet guy...criminal past aside of course...I don't want him to be unhappy." Peter was nodding.
"I'll think about what you've said. Thank you, David." His tone was genuine and he met the younger Agent's eyes with deep sincerity. Siegel nodded and returned to his desk.
WCWCWCWCWC
How pathetic was it, Peter wondered as he watched David Siegel return to his desk, that two fully grown men who worked in the same office apparently missed each other so much that it was affecting their productivity enough that everyone else noticed? Pretty pathetic, Peter would have said if it was anyone else. But it wasn't anyone else, it was Neal. And Neal was...Neal.
Neal was infuriating and impossible not to care about. He'd throw himself in front of a bullet and still need reassurance that he was worth anyone's time at all. He would lie about billions of dollars in treasure for months and give it all away instantly when someone was in danger. He was dangerous, conniving, cocky, and impulsive, a thief, a liar, and a con man who preyed on others and he had concerningly little regret for his crimes. And for all of those things he was equally caring, loving, sweet, and humble, shockingly sensitive, with one of the biggest hearts Peter had ever seen and a natural protectiveness of anyone weaker or in need.
In a word he was—well—Neal couldn't be described in a word. He couldn't be described in a paragraph or even a whole book.
At this point it was getting hard to remember a time that Neal hadn't been part of his life, though, really it was only ten years. Only ten years, Peter snorted at that, a whole decade.
Ten years since the bond forgery case-file had been slapped on his desk. Nine years since the case file had turned into the deviously clever and cocky yet somehow irresistibly likable young thief who had given him candy. Seven years since the thief had been sentenced to a supermax and turned into a convict. Then almost four years of birthday cards and a prison phone call or two before that broken-hearted convict, turned into a CI and partner.
And somehow, at some point, along that winding way, Peter had looked past the labels of case file, convict, thief, CI, had dug beneath the armored wall of charm, grace, and charisma—and had found the person underneath. Lost and hurting from a lifetime of betrayal and neglect, a talented, intelligent young man who needed help to become so much more than what he was—the labels disappeared and Neal Caffrey had become a friend.
...he's lonely...he misses you...he misses you as much as you miss him...
He saw it all with clarity now as Siegel's words echoed in his head. If Neal was feeling anything like Peter was then, yeah, he was miserable. Peter wasn't going to hide from that any more, his plan had clearly been far from the right thing to do for Neal as well as him despite its good intentions.
He sighed in defeat before picking up the phone and making a quick call to Elizabeth.
Now all that was left was to talk to Neal.
WCWCWCWCWC
David watched as forty minutes and a phone call later Peter summoned Neal to his office with a barked "Caffrey!" and the double finger point. The younger agent didn't miss the eager expression of the CI as he made his way to his old handler's office.
The two were enclosed in the office for a good fifteen minutes and Siegel couldn't help but glance over every so often.
The CI sprawled playful in his chair, with his feet up on the ASAC's desk, his whole posture teasing as he first entered.
A glance over a few minutes later, a more serious conversation was obviously in play, with Peter leaning intently, worriedly, toward Neal on the other side of the desk.
The final look showed them standing at the window, shoulder to shoulder, Caffrey with his hands eased into his pockets laughing at something and nodded, Burke's hand resting gently on his shoulder as the older agent smiled.
David smothered a smile himself and caught Diana Barrigan's attention, jerking a nod toward the ASAC's office. She grinned,
"Oh thank heavens! You shook some sense into them?" David shrugged self deprecatingly as Barrigan nudged Jones with a wink and gestured to the office.
"About time." Jones muttered with a chuckle.
They went back to their work, each smiling to themselves, each of them noticing the bounce to the CI's step as Neal jauntily descended the stairs a few minutes later.
WCWCWCWCWC
Neal had to purposefully keep from smiling too widely as he made his way back to his desk, Peter's invitation still fresh in his mind.
"El's making the little chickens for dinner on Wednesday, you wanna come?" He had accepted, maybe a little too quickly, but it was okay.
He hadn't been sure why Peter was calling him up to the office, Peter wasn't working cases anymore so it was unlikely to be his expertise, so maybe it was a scolding for his tantrum in the hall. He almost hoped it was, it would mean Peter was caring again.
He had not been prepared for the serious weight to Peter's words as he playfully sprawled into the familiar chair opposite Peter's. The agent hadn't even bothered to push Neal's feet off the desk, instead tapping his finger uncomfortably for a few seconds before plowing in.
"Have you been happy these past few weeks Neal? I'm asking for a yes or no." The question was very deliberately worded with Peter's knowledge of Neal's skill in answering without answering, his steady gaze reminding Neal wordlessly of the fact — you've never lied to me Neal.
Taken aback, Neal tried desperately to rationalize the answer he wanted to give, yes , because it should be true shouldn't it? It wasn't fair to Siegel to say anything else. But it wasn't a yes, he'd be lying if he said it was, and despite everything he still wouldn't directly lie to Peter.
Peter waited patiently as Neal wrestled with the question.
"No." The word was uttered quietly, the honesty of it painful to both of them.
"Why not?"
Neal just glared at his former handler. He refused to say it and Peter couldn't make him. Not when this was all Peter's fault. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing it— I miss you.
Peter seemed to understand the glare and everything it said in his instinctive Peter way and huffed a small laugh,
"I'm guessing it's for the same reason that El's been yelling at me for moping around the house the past few weeks. I miss you Neal." The agent was staring at him with a frankness that had always disarmed him, and Neal was wishing he had said it now. "And I'm sorry that I've been distant." There was a lot more in the apology than Peter said with his words, but Neal understood it.
I should have known you can't just cut off family and expect everything to be okay. But I hope you know it was because I care about you.
He accepted the apology with a smile, how many times had Peter forgiven him after all?
"I'm glad we're okay." He said. He knew Peter understood the words behind the words,
I missed you too, I forgive you, just please don't do that again.
Peter grinned, "We are okay."
And just like that, they were.
The ease of it all almost pushed another lump into Neal's throat. It hadn't taken an entire evening to struggle through everything, every intricacy of their relationship, to talk through every mistake and vow not to make it again, to scold, blame, and apologize. Just a few words—an acknowledgment of a kinship that ran deeper than either of them had realized—and they were okay again. Neither of them made the mistake of thinking that there wouldn't be trouble again, but now there was a knowledge that they could weather it out together.
Neal grinned at Peter and Peter grinned back at Neal and they sat there grinning like two idiots (which was better then pining like Shakespearean maidens Neal thought privately) until Peter mentioned,
"El's making the little chickens for dinner on Wednesday, you wanna come?"
"Absolutely."
WCWCWCWCWC
David Siegel looked up from his book as his phone buzzed late Wednesday night. The message was from Peter Burke.
"Don't worry about picking Neal up tomorrow, he's at my place tonight so I can bring him to work."
David smiled triumphantly,
"Proof or I'll assume Neal stole your phone and is up to no good." He joked back.
The phone buzzed again a minute later, this time it with a picture: Neal, sprawled on a couch sleeping in an over-large sweatshirt, looking disheveled, unpolished, and more relaxed than David could have imagined it was possible for the con man to be. Neal looked...peaceful. There was no other word for it.
The phone buzzed again and it was one more message:
"Thank you"
David made no effort to smother the wide grin that spread across his face as he responded.
"You're welcome."
There was no need to say for what.