Diana returns to the office as soon as the warehouse is locked up for the night. Falling into her chair, head in hands, she's glad the day is nearly over. Ever since Neal ran from the van she's been preoccupied, thinking over and over about the signs she missed. He may be a damn good conman, but she's an FBI Agent. She should have known something wasn't right when Neal was all easy smiles and camaraderie these last few weeks, while Peter was seemingly the unhinged one. He was using Peter's justified anxiety as a distraction, a way to deter focus from himself and firm up the belief that the boss was just being his usual over protective self. And she fell for it. They all fell for it.
Shit.
Picking up her phone she knows what she needs to do to make this right.
"Diana, you okay?" Peter answers on the second ring, concern clear in his voice.
She hesitates before speaking, questioning just how in the hell to start this conversation."Yeah, just tired." She dismisses quickly. "How's Caffrey?"
Silence on the other end, then… "He'll be fine. Just another bump in the road. Nothing I'm not used to with Neal."
She takes comfort in the lightness in his tone, even if it is a front.
"Actually, I wanted to ask you about today..." He continues, starting the conversation she had intended to initiate.
Even with Peter outright asking, she's suddenly stuck on how to continue. How can she tell him what happened without feeling like she's breaking some kind of confidence? It's clear Neal hadn't meant to say anything. He'd ran from the van as much to get away from her as to avoid answering the questions he knew she'd be obligated to ask.
Torn, between wanting to share with her boss and friend and not betraying Neal's moment of weakness, she again hesitates. "Peter, there's more to it than Caffrey being… well Caffrey."
"What has he told you?"
Peter's question does nothing to help her out of this dilemma, in fact it makes her feel worse. She could tell him everything. It's not like she owes it to Neal to keep his secret. It is why she called him after all. Everything would be better out in the open anyway, right?
"I can't." She hears herself say, dejection felt deep in her bones. Being violated by a stranger is bad enough, and despite trying very hard to convince herself otherwise, Diana knows if it were her, she'd be pissed as hell if the people she trusted most took it upon themselves to violate her privacy too. "You need to talk to him." She tells him flatly, hoping her bluntness signals how hard it is to say even that much without feeling completely shitty. "Just promise me you'll talk to him."
There's a brief moment of silence on the other end and Diana wonders if he's hung up.
"I will," His tone serious, yet understanding. "Thanks Diana. Go home, I'll see you tomorrow."
The line does drop then and Diana slowly lowers the handset. Looking around the empty bullpen, watching the light through the windows slowly fading as day turns to night, home sounds like a damn good idea right now.
…
Hanging up on Diana and resuming his rummaging through the attic boxes, it's not long before Peter hears the scuffing of feet as his visitor hauls himself up through the hatch.
"So," Neal chuckles nervously, avoiding eye contact. "I hear you want to read me a bedtime story." He flashes a weak smile.
Caught off guard, Peter has no immediate response, and Neal quickly goes on to admit that Elizabeth has essentially forced him up here. Now, he knows what he wants to say, but remembering how his thoughtless blunt responses tend to incite antagonism between them, Peter thinks before speaking this time. His initial anger about today's events may have dampened, but it's still there, simmering just below the surface. He doesn't want to let Neal off the hook, yet he also doesn't want another argument. Diana's instruction to talk to him pops uninvited into his head and Peter concedes it's probably about time he listened to the women in his life.
"Okay"
"Okay?"
He had been trying for nonchalance, but judging by Neal's high-pitched reply, he didn't reach the mark. "You want to talk. We'll talk." Peter bites his top lip, holding back the irritated tirade that wants to let rip.
"Technically I didn't want to – your wife is kind of making me." Neal crosses his arms over his chest.
He's being stubborn, Peter muses, decides two can play at that game. "Whatever." He waves his hand to dismiss any semantics. "How you feeling?"
Neal seems to shrink in on himself at that innocent question, leaving Peter wondering what the hell he's said wrong now. When the silence stretches, he considers El might not be wrong when she'd suggested maybe he's missing something… Looking at this vulnerable Neal stood before him, he's missing a lot of somethings.
"Neal I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is?" He growls out of frustration. "If there's something you remember?"
Still nothing.
Peter continues to verbally poke at him, all the while watching Neal getting increasingly uncomfortable.
"No, I don't!" Neal breaks his silence, "Peter?" he pleads bleakly, wheezing loudly.
"Neal?" It's only upon recognising that the normally cool, calm and collected Caffrey is actually hyperventilating that Peter starts to panic. "What's wrong?"
Failing with his words Peter reaches out. His kid is falling apart before his eyes and he needs to do something to make it better, but before his outstretched hand can even graze one arm Neal's off and running, running with unbelievable speed. He chases after him, but the couple of second delay costs them dearly. When he sees Neal stomping down the stairs, reaching the bottom step Peter thinks for sure he's going to stop, but no. Neal keeps going. Flinging open the porch door, and with no shoes or coat, runs out into the street.
Hearing the blaring of car horns Peter fears the worse. Hitting the sidewalk, he sees Neal's still running with clear disregard for anything in his way, that is until he reaches the end of the block and comes to a sudden, unprecedented halt.
Peter doesn't stop. Fear and adrenaline his driving force he closes the gap and before he can think better about it grabs Neal around the waist, trapping his arms in the process.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He screams, incensed at the utter stupidity of what's just happened.
"Let me go!" Neal tries to fight him off, but his uncoordinated, desperate hits are no match for Peter.
Neal may well be younger, but he lacks training and form. While an elbow to his ribs and a few kicks to the shins are certainly going to be felt in the morning, they aren't enough to make him let go. Though it does make him realise shouting while physically restraining a scared and panicked person isn't his brightest idea.
"It's okay," Peter whispers in his ear, gentling his hold and pulling the still struggling body backwards. "You're okay." He shushes, repeating the words over and over until they come true.
Neal continues to beg for freedom, but Peter doesn't comply. Instead he balances their combined weight and spins Neal to face him. It's only after getting a good look at his friend's flushed face and tear streaked cheeks, that Peter understands just how badly he's screwed up.
Practically having to drag him back to the house, Neal doesn't need anyone sending him to his room this time. In a sudden spurt of energy Neal gets his feet back under him and breaking out of Peter's hold barrels past El standing on the outside steps, heading straight up the stairs.
"He's fine." Peter meets his wife's anxious gaze, both flinching when they hear the bang of Neal's bedroom door.
"I doubt that." El eyes him coolly, walking away and leaving him to shut the front door behind them.
Joining her in the living room Peter runs both hands over his face into his hair and drops to sit on the couch, letting the eerie silence of the house settle over them. "It wasn't me," he looks up at her, "not just me. I promise."
He holds her gaze and she softens' somewhat. "You're going to tell me what happened."
He thinks it over and realises he can't grant her request in any satisfactory way because he really doesn't know. "I may have gotten a little frustrated."
"May have?" El folds her arms, "Peter I heard you shouting from down here-"
"I know, I know," Peter jumps up and closes the gap between them, stealing a hug. "I've never seen him so… so…"
"Scared?" She declines to offer anything, but doesn't prevent him from wrapping his arms around her.
"I think he remembered something." He looks at her pleading for answers, and though she finally relaxes enough to wrap her arms around him, give the hug he so desperately needs, it doesn't make her magic.
Feeling ineffectual in his ability to deal with any of this, Peter decides it's time to bring in some outside help.