Posting the last chapter early because I can. Thanks to all who have read my story; a special thanks to those who sent messages or posted reviews. Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas!

Chapter Twelve

Neal took a breath and leaned back in his chair. He was glad to be back at work, but his arm still precluded fieldwork, so he was stuck at his desk for the most part. But he had to give Peter credit-he'd not loaded him up with the most mundane and boring cases ever. In fact, he usually would have relished the project Peter had assigned him. Physical Vulnerability Assessments were something he'd done long before joining White Collar. He always enjoyed pouring over building schematics, studying the security routes and protocols, and finding a way past them all. It was a challenge, a puzzle to solve. Of course, he'd been much better paid to do it back then than he was now.

But he was having difficulty focusing, and it wasn't because he'd recently taken a severe blow to the head. It was because he was tired and distracted. He was wound tight in anticipation of whatever was to come from his unremembered rendezvous with Alex Hunter. It plagued him day and night, robbing him of rest and peace of mind.

What was Alex planning? Why had she wanted to meet with him? And why in God's name had he gone? He must have felt compelled by something, something worth taking the risk. But maybe he'd determined the risk wasn't that significant; he'd stayed within his radius. If Peter asked about his late-night trip to Vinegar Hill, he would have grinned and said he'd been having a drink with a lady. Peter might have been displeased, even suspicious, but if he'd pressed the issue, he'd have asked him to site the rule he'd broken. Peter then would have begrudgingly admitted none he knew of. Then he'd likely have reminded him he was watching and if he stepped out of line, he'd be right back in his cell in Sing Sing before day's end.

But he had broken a rule-he'd met with an old accomplice. Had he agreed to help her in some way? Was she going to show up, expecting something from him? He just didn't know, and the feeling of impending doom grew with each passing day. Waiting for the unknown repercussions of his actions was torture. All he had done was meet with her; there hadn't been time for him to have done much more. They'd been in a public place, after all. But if she showed up and Peter got wind of it, well, that would be a problem regardless.

He glanced up to the catwalk where Peter's office was. Peter kept telling him that honesty was the best policy; maybe he should try it and see. It would be better for him to tell Peter than for Peter to find out on his own.

Right?

Either way, he was tired of worrying about it. Whatever happened, he'd rather just deal with it and be done than have it hanging over his head like the Sword of Damocles.

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

"I need to talk to you."

Peter looked up to see a bit wild-eyed and somewhat green Neal standing before him.

It had been almost three weeks since the incident in Vinegar Hill. All four suspects had been charged with various crimes and were awaiting trial. The statements used had come from Miss James and the witnesses that had seen the end of Neal's assault. Physical evidence, blood on Neal's clothing, had matched that of two defendants, one of which, Brad Newman, had two domestic violence complaints on file against him. But outside his physical injuries being presented in great detail, Neal had not been much of a factor in the arrests, nor would he be called at the trial. He could offer little since the entire incident still remained a blank.

It had taken close to two full weeks for the yellow bruising on his face to disappear, and he still had three more weeks before he could return to the field. He still suffered from headaches, something he'd been told to expect, and there were days Peter could see a distinct look in his eyes that spoke to his suffering. The emotional volatility he'd had in the beginning seemed to have gone, leaving Neal his usual hard-to-read self.

But all in all, he had made a remarkable recovery. However, despite his continued insistence that he was fine, Peter had noticed the dark circles under his eyes had not faded but had begun to grow more pronounced over the past days. When Peter had mentioned it, Neal had chalked it up to difficulties sleeping, like his headaches, a persisting irritation from his concussion. Neal's work was good, but he seemed unsettled, uneasy. Off. It reminded Peter of his behavior the afternoon of that unfortunate event.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Neal said, contradicting his very presence. He wasn't hard to read this morning. He was agitated. Worried. "Or probably nothing," he amended, shuffling nervously from foot to foot. "But then...well..." Waffling wasn't something Neal did. Usually. "Maybe something."

Peter let out a breath and put down his pen. "Close the door and sit down."

Neal did as he was bidden, perching on the edge of the chair as if he might need to run at any moment. Coupled with the traces of guilt Peter could see in his eyes, it was concerning. Neal had been cleared of all wrongdoing. Even Agent Hughes had made a point to praise his "Act of Valor" in front of the whole office the day Neal had returned. It had been delivered in proper Hughes form, a bit stiff and stern, but Peter had seen the flush in Neal's cheeks all the same.

"I know who I was meeting at the bar that night," he blurted, eyes wide. He looked almost in a panic.

Of course Peter already knew who Neal had been meeting with. Alex Hunter. Not just an ex-girlfriend but an ex-partner. She was almost as well known as Neal Caffrey, and it was rumored the two of them had torn across the continent several years ago, leaving a trail of thefts in their wake.

He raised a brow. "You remember?"

Neal shook his head. "No, I don't remember the meeting." He swallowed. "But I know who I was meeting."

Peter leaned back, watching his CI squirm a bit. Neal Caffrey never confessed. "When asked, you've said you didn't know."

Neal leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "The detectives never asked if I knew who I was meeting," he pointed out. "Only if I remembered or if I remembered getting the note. Which I didn't. Don't." It was just semantics, but Neal was a master at them. Neal gave him a thoughtful look. "I kept waiting for you to ask me about it," he admitted. "I knew you wouldn't...you know...give me an easy out." Peter didn't reply but kept his eyes steady on Neal's. "But you didn't."

Had knowing he'd met Alex been what had been keeping Neal up?

Peter shrugged with an ease he didn't feel. "You were meeting a lady for drinks," he said, shuffling the stack of papers he'd abandoned when Neal had entered. "You weren't outside your radius. You weren't there under an alias or assumed name. There is no rule against having a date, Neal."

Again, something akin to panic fluttered in Neal's eyes. Again, he swallowed.

"I...I don't think it was a date."

Peter again raised a brow. "Then what was it?"

Neal let out a huff of breath and leaned back. "I don't know," he confessed, running his hand through his hair. "I don't remember it. But I know it wasn't a date."

"Then what was it?" he asked again.

Neal shook his head slightly as if at a loss. "I don't..." He stopped, then continued in a rush. "It was...someone from my past, Peter. Someone I...I used to work with on occasion."

Wow. Neal was actually confessing. "There is a rule against contact with former accomplices, Neal."

"I know," he said, a look of desperation in his eyes. "I don't know why I went. I've been waiting to hear something, to find out what I...God, Peter," his anguish was palatable as he again ran his hand through his now thoroughly disheveled hair. "I'm sorry. I've ruined everything."

With that, he leaned forward, elbows on knees, and dropped his head into his hands.

From what he'd been able to gather from his interaction with Miss Hunter, she'd met with Neal in an attempt to lure him into whatever job she was planning. Hence her fear that Neal had sent a Federal agent after her. After turning down her offer. After telling her he'd gone legit, as she'd put it. And after telling her he'd finally found a place he belonged. People who cared about him. A home. Things he'd always wanted and didn't want to risk losing. Neal had been given an opportunity to break the law, to step over the line, and he hadn't taken it. But he didn't remember any of that; he was terrified he'd accepted whatever offer she'd made him. And most surprisingly, he'd owned up to it.

He'd doubted Neal when he'd received the call about his assault. The Detectives had doubted him. Agent Hughes had doubted him. But the saddest of all was that Neal doubted himself. He got to his feet and circled the desk to where Neal sat, head down.

He placed his hand on Neal's slightly shaking shoulder. "You didn't take the job, Neal," he said quietly. "You turned her down."

He felt Neal stiffen at his words; his head shot up. "What?" His red-rimmed eyes were wide. "What did you say?"

"You told Alex you weren't interested."

The name took the color from Neal's face. His jaw slackened in shock before he snapped it closed.

"How do you know that?" He breathed, his stunned look moving quickly to one of alarm. "How do you know about Alex?"

Neal had confessed to meeting someone from his past, but he hadn't named her. And he wouldn't have, no matter how much pressure had been put on him to do so. Just as Miss Hunter had said, Neal was loyal to a fault. Which, as she'd pointed out, didn't always serve him well. But that was a topic for another day.

"I met with Miss Hunter last week." Neal's eyes widened again, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "We talked."

There was a moment's pause as Neal worked to process the obviously disturbing news. "Did you..." he swallowed, "arrest her?"

Things might be over between them, but Neal cared about Alex Hunter. Just like Alex Hunter cared about him.

"No," he answered. "Should I have?"

A look of relief washed over Neal's countenance, but he still hurried to his feet.

"Probably," he mumbled, now pacing the office like a caged animal. "But I don't understand. How did you even know about her?" He turned to look at him. "How did you find her?"

"You know how good I am at finding people, Neal." His tone was teasing, but Neal didn't take the bait, nor did the attempt at levity ease him at all.

"She talked to you?" he pressed, a look of fearful disbelief on his face. "Willingly?"

"For the most part," he answered, holding back the chuckle that threatened to erupt at Neal's expression. "I introduced myself as a Fed-"

"As a Federal Agent? Oh my God," Neal said, his pace picking up considerably. "She'll think I sent you. She'll think I-"

He'd almost enjoyed Neal's distress, but it had gone on long enough. Time to put the man at peace.

"Calm down, Neal," he offered. "She did think that at first, but I set her straight." Neal turned, locking intense eyes with his. "I told her everything," Peter continued. "About the assault, about the concussion, and about your amnesia."

"So she knows I didn't...that I don't..." Again his hand found its way to his dark locks. He regrouped. "She told you what we talked about? That I..." he hesitated, "turned her down?"

He seemed surprised. Relieved but surprised.

"Yes, she did." Peter didn't know what else to say, what else he should say. The things Neal had told Alex was highly personal. Highly emotional. Things he'd never had said to him. "You can relax, Neal. Sleep. Everything is okay."

Neal stopped his pacing and sank down on the chair he'd vacated. Peter was surprised when he cupped his hands over his mouth, his eyes suddenly shining.

"I was so scared," he breathed. "I was so scared I'd..."

"Done something stupid?"

He nodded, leaned forward, and dropped his elbows to his knees. After a moment of deep breathing, he raised his head and looked up.

"So, we are..." he hesitated, eyes full of doubt. "Okay?"

Peter put a hand on Neal's shoulder.

"We are okay," he affirmed. "But I had to know, Neal," he explained. "I had to know who you were meeting and why you were there. And now I do." He met Neal's eyes with pride and gave his shoulder squeeze. "You were there to make a choice, Neal, and you did."

"The right one." It was almost a whisper, and his eyes were bright. Not with excitement or mirth. With tears.

Peter gave a firm nod. "The right one."