Author's notes:
Hi! Thank you so much for your feedback, it always makes me so happy to see that someone enjoyed the chapter. :3 ❤ Thank you for being patient with me too, I really needed to take this break. :)
If all goes well I'll post the next chapter in 2 weeks (Sunday 28.02).
The illustration for this chapter you can either find on my DoodleAddicts account (…/vincentthecat) or on the story Rooftops of New York that I post on Archive Of Our Own (username VincentTheCat).
Chapter 14 "Peter's Choice"
"Set before you are fire and water; to whatever you choose, stretch out your hand.
Before everyone are life and death, whichever they choose will be given them."
Sirach 15:16-17 (NABRE)
"Mum did," Neal answers quietly, looking away from the lady. "She taught me how to draw."
"Oh, I see," Elle says. "You liked drawing together?"
Neal nods, then leans down to offer Satch a piece of mango Elle has sliced for them to eat. The dog sniffs it, but does not eat it. Neal furrows his forehead. "You have no taste."
Elle chuckles and Neal meets her gentle eyes again.
"She'll come back, you know."
Her expression turns serious. "Your mum?"
Neal rests his chin on top of Satch's head and smiles. "Yeah."
/\_/\
='x'=
"Okay, Jones. We do not know what we're going to be dealing with here, so for now you should just stay back," Peter said, glancing sidelong at his subordinate.
"Yes, okay. Though…I'm pretty sure we'll be dealing with just a kid," Jones answered, looking confused.
Just a kid. Just like George. George is just a kid too, came the reflexive thought. Turning away from Jones, Peter grimaced. He could not think like that about the boy before the heist. After. Not before.
He turned the key in the lock.
/\_/\
='x'=
The door opens. Satch jumps on his four paws. Barking, he runs as fast as he can to the door.
"Satchmo!" the familiar voice bellows.
You're found! Joyfully barking, Satch falls into the arms of he-who-smells-of-home. I found you! I found you!
And by the smell of it, Satch has found he-who-smells-of-burnt-plants too. Looking up at the other two-leg, Satch barks his welcome.
"…I can't believe it! Look, Jones, it really is him!"
/\_/\
='x'=
Chuckling, Peter fell to his knees. He hugged Satch and grimaced as the dog immediately began licking his face. How much did he miss him! Clapping the dog's back Peter laughed.
"Boy, did I miss you!"
/\_/\
='x'=
Seeing the dog run for the door, Neal stops smiling. He frowns.
"That must be my husband, Peter," Elle says. "Come on Neal, I'll introduce you."
No way. He clenches his fists. Husband? It was not a part of the deal! He glances towards the back door. He has to leave now.
"Neal, what's wrong?"
The adult is already in the house. Neal can hear his voice through Satch's barking. He shivers. "We'll meet tomorrow, okay? This is urgent. I have to go now." He is going to hurt me.
"What is urgent?"
Neal bites his lip. Why won't she listen? He can hear the footsteps in the corridor.
"Hon! I'm home—" The angry adult's voice wavers. Neal closes his eyes before he can see him.
/\_/\
='x'=
Realizing Elle was not there to greet them, Peter frowned. He motioned Jones to follow him inside. Satch trotted next to his leg, happily continuing to jump on him. "Hon!" The lights were on in the kitchen. "I'm home―"
Both Peter and Jones came to an abrupt halt.
It was impossible.
It could not be happening.
/\_/\
='x'=
See! And this is your pup! I met him while you were lost, Satchmo happily continues explaining the situation to he-who-smells-of-home. He runs over to the pup to lick his hands and only then does he realize that the pup is panicking. He is scared!
No, no, no! It's okay, Satch barks and jumps on the pup. There's someone you have to meet! See?!
/\_/\
='x'=
"Satch!" Surprised by Satch's sneaky attack, Elle reached out to grab the dog's collar. She was too late.
A heartbeat later, the boy was lying on the floor, crushed by Satchmo. The dog, happily still moaning, licked Neal's face.
"Neal!" She crouched next to him. "Are you al—" she paused mid-word.
The boy's eyes were no longer closed. Neither he was trying to hide from Peter. Instead, the child was staring straight at her husband and… There was an expression of surprise in his wide open eyes.
As she gestured frantically for Peter to stand back, she focused on keeping her voice calm. "It's okay, sweetie. It's okay. Peter's just as glad to see Satch as I am."
/\_/\
='x'=
…Mister Morris?
Neal only half-registers that the lady is saying something.
What is Mister Morris doing here?
Frowning, he notices the man standing behind him. He does not know why, but that other guy seems familiar too. Even though he is quite certain they have never met before.
What if… What if those two are after him?!
"Elle, run!" Neal finally manages to regain his voice.
"No," the lady shakes her head. "No one has to run away. Everything is alright. Peter's just as happy you found Satch as I am."
"Peter," Neal mumbles, turning to look at Neumann's man again.
As in Peter Morris.
"Neal," Neumann's man squats on the floor while the other one steps back away from the kitchen.
"Hon, I don't think it's a good idea—" Elle begins to say.
"You took Satch?" the adult asks.
"I— I f-found him, sir," Neal stutters. "In Central Park. Two months ago."
"What's— Hon, do you know each other?" Elle looks between the two of them.
"I, hon, we," the adult pauses. Neal watches him take a deep breath, then tears his eyes away from Neal to look at the lady. "I know his uncle, Elle."
"You do?!" she exclaims.
Mister Morris nods. "Yes, yes. It's work related and so—"
"I did not mean to kidnap Satch! You have to believe me!" Neal jumps to his feet.
"Yes, kid, I―"
"You can't be mad!" he interrupts the adult. "You have no right to be mad, you claimed to be a dog person and yet your dog was missing and— and it's all your fault! Elle says you did not close the front door!"
Only after the last words leave Neal's mouth, does he realize he has been shouting. He stiffens. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to… You have a wonderful wife, sir!"
Feverishly thinking of what else to say to placate the adult, Neal looks around the room and…
And that is when his eyes pause on the clock.
10:35 PM. The heist!
/\_/\
='x'=
Looking between Peter and Neal, Elle felt more lost than ever. Peter was working with Neal's uncle? Did that mean that the child's uncle was an FBI agent?
She opened her mouth to voice that question aloud. "Hon, does Neal's uncle—"
"Oh, no!" the child's panicked voice interrupted her. He sprang to his feet and ducked under the table to grab his backpack. "It's so late! Can you give me a ride, sir?"
"Of course," Peter said.
"Uncle's going to be mad if I'm late," the child said, heading for the door.
In disbelief Elle watched Peter turn on his heel and follow the boy. Where has Jones gone? She could have sworn he was with them a second earlier…
"I'll go with you," she said.
Almost immediately Peter shook his head. "No, it's alright. I'll drive Neal off. You stay home."
Elle clenched her fists. "No, I need to go with you to meet—" she paused. "Peter, don't you have a case—"
"Elle!" Peter's voice was stern. She watched him shake his head again as if to warn her.
She furrowed her forehead and he took her hand.
"It's okay," he said firmly. "I have time. I'll drive Neal off and after I'm back I'll explain everything, alright?"
She did not answer. But then someone opened the door and… "Neal!" she gasped, realizing the child was already running outside. She pulled away from Peter and ran after him.
/\_/\
='x'=
"Elle!" Running after his wife, Peter still felt like he was in some kind of nightmare. His case. His case was falling apart.
He watched Elle stop his key suspect. Was it a coincidence? Did the child's presence mean Keller knew his address? But why send a child then? No, it just did not make any sense. He knew Elle would not tell the child he was an FBI agent. Or would she?
Neal had stayed with Elle, so it seemed unlikely that she had, but…
"…and we're going to see each other tomorrow, okay?" Elle continued to speak in a reassuring tone to the child.
George's dazed gaze met Peter's. As if looking for confirmation. Peter's throat tightened. He had to save the case. He had to save the case no matter what. Too much depended on…
But he couldn't lie to his wife. It was already like a lie.
"If your husband allows it," the boy finally muttered, looking away from Peter.
Elle strongly nodded. "He will," she said. "I'm sure he will." She looked back at Peter and he froze, seeing the relief on her face. Why did she… "I'm inviting you and your uncle for dinner tomorrow. How does it sound to you, Peter?"
Peter gulped. His case.
"Good. I'll have to ask him first of course," he said.
The boy furrowed his forehead. "I don't think that—" he paused, then cocked his head at Peter. "You seriously think he would like to—"
Peter nodded. "Yes, of course, kiddo. Now come on. Let's take you home."
He was not taking George home. He was leading George to the heist.
But the case.
Elle took Peter's hand. "Are you sure I should not accompany—"
"No," he shook his head. "No, hon. It's late. And you know about… My plans later on. So it really does not make sense for you to drive with us."
He was lying to his wife. But he had to save his case. He spent over four years chasing Keller. The man was dangerous. He belonged behind bars.
Elle let go of his hand. She turned to George. "Okay, sweetie. Take care of yourself then. We'll see each other tomorrow, alright?"
The boy gave her a fragile smile. "Okay, Elle," he said softly.
Peter winced internally. Once Elle found out the truth, there was no way she would forgive him. And if during the heist something bad happened to George… But nothing was going to happen.
Elle turned away from the boy and leaned to kiss Peter's cheek. "I'm glad you two know each other," she chuckled. "For a moment there, you got me really worried. Remember to call me, okay?"
"I will," he heard his ever-calm voice say.
Elle nodded, her gaze for a moment turning serious. Peter suddenly realized that she was still confused. But she trusted him. She trusted him, so she decided that he would explain everything to her later. He watched her pat his suspect's shoulder. "Take care, sweetie. See you tomorrow." She took a step back and grabbed Satch's collar.
Peter opened the gate and moved to the side to let George pass him. He took out his keys and unlocked the car. Not looking back he got into the driver's seat.
The child opened the door and took the seat to his right. Elle waved her hand at them.
"Drive safe!" they heard her voice. And so did the recording device hidden in Peter's wristwatch.
/\_/\
='x'=
Looking sidelong at the adult's profile, Neal tries not to sigh. Even though he does not feel hungry, he wishes he had grabbed some cookies before leaving. They have tasted so good…
He has pockets. He could have used them.
Thinking about Elle's plans for tomorrow, he glances through the window. Somehow he cannot imagine Mister Keller talking to the lady nicely.
It would be different if Elle could paint, Neal thinks. Then Mister Keller would be very nice to her. But since she cannot… Someone in the car clears their throat.
Neal looks left.
"Buckle up, Neal, okay?" Mister Morris asks.
"Huh?"
"Put your seatbelts on," Satch's adult repeats.
Mister Keller never tells him to do that. Mister Morris glances at him, their eyes meet for a moment. The serious gaze of the adult makes Neal think he does not want to argue. He does as he has been told.
Then, he realizes something. "Mister Morris?"
The adult glances at him.
Neal looks away. "Mister Keller doesn't know that name," he mumbles.
"What?" the adult asks.
"Neal. He doesn't know it."
"Oh."
"I don't want him to know it." He glances at the adult uncertainly. "…Okay?"
Mister Morris's eyes are on the road again. "So, he's not your uncle after all?"
Neal sighs, then shakes his head.
"You're a runaway?"
Neal frowns. "What?"
"You ran away from home?"
Neal rubs his forehead. He closes his eyes.
"Neal?"
He looks back at the adult in silence. Mister Morris must think he's a baby, if he expects Neal to tell him. One does not talk about such stuff.
"I'm sorry, George," Mister Morris says. "Don't worry. I won't tell him."
"In exchange for?"
The adult shakes his head. "In exchange for nothing, kid. I understand you don't want Keller to know your real name."
Neal nods, then breaths in relief. Suddenly, he chuckles. "He's going to be very surprised to learn you have a dog, you know."
Mister Morris's expression remains serious.
"I cannot imagine tomorrow, the three of you talking to one another," Neal continues. "He will turn down this invitation."
The adult nods. "I know." He glances at Neal. "I was not planning to give him one."
"…Oh." That makes more sense.
"What about you? Were you planning to tell Keller about meeting Elle?"
Neal smiles. "Never!"
"So he doesn't know?"
Neal shakes his head.
"What about Satchmo? Has he ever seen him?"
"No," Neal chuckles. Is it just him, or have Mister Morris's shoulders relaxed an inch? "Are you going to tell him?"
The adult shakes his head. "No." Their eyes meet. "I don't like to mix work with my personal life."
Neal's heart drops a bit. Does it mean…?
"I can't come tomorrow either?" he asks quietly.
The adult's hands clench on the steering wheel. "Tomorrow, huh?"
Neal wraps his arms around his stomach, tightly. He closes his eyes, searching for the words that Mister Morris would want to hear. He seemed to be relieved when Neal told him that his mentor did not know about Satch. "I won't tell Mister Keller about anything. Even if you tell me I can't come tomorrow."
The brief glance Mister Morris gives him is unreadable.
Neal manages a small smile. "Elle doesn't know much about your job, does she?"
"No… She doesn't."
Neal grins. "She has no idea how lucky she is to have you, then," he says cheerfully to the adult. Since Mister Morris does not answer, Neal looks away and rests his head against a bolster. "Still, in my opinion, it's good to know a quality forger. Especially one you can trust. Don't you think?"
He closes his eyes before seeing Mister Morris nod or shake his head. This way he can come tomorrow, whether Mister Morris wishes it or not. But it will be okay because he will not come empty-handed.
Stifling a yawn, Neal wraps his arms around his knees. Mister Morris will like him yet.
/\_/\
='x'=
Pulling on the breaks, Peter brought the car to a stop. They arrived. The meeting point was only twenty minute walk from there. He glanced right.
The child did not move. He was curled in an embryo position and his eyes were closed. His breaths were regular. Peter had previously suspected the boy might have fallen asleep just at the beginning of their ride. There was no longer any doubt.
Neal was asleep.
Closing his eyes, Peter rested his arms against the steering wheel.
What the heck was he doing?
He felt like a kidnapper, not an agent.
He felt like an abuser.
He was the abuser.
No, that was it. He had made a wrong decision and he had to fix it. So what if everyone at the Bureau expected him to bring in Keller and Neumann? So what? Weren't there any other ways to catch the criminals? Why was everyone okay with taking advantage of a child like that?
If he decided to proceed… There was no way Elle would forgive him. Just no way. He had to go back. He just had to.
SWAT teams report readiness, boss. Our reaction time will be ten minutes, he heard the communicate in his earpiece.
"Copy that," Peter mumbled, still not opening his eyes. It was supposed to be a simple operation. One hour, no longer.
What did it matter whether he arrested the boy now or later? He was still going to arrest him.
But the charges would be less severe.
And so would Neumann's and Keller's. They would get away. But would they?
Once again he remembered the reassuring way Elle spoke to the child, the kindness in her words and gestures. Neal was really just a little boy. The way Elle looked at the kid was the only way anyone should ever look at any child.
Peter knew the man he wished to be. He wished to be someone to whom Neal would really be just a child, never an asset. He wanted to protect Neal, not take advantage of him.
This situation, all of it, felt wrong.
"HEY!" the roar violently brought him back to the present. He looked to his left and nearly cringed when he saw a gun pointed at him. "Don't you fucking move, Morris!" the criminal, whom Peter identified as Miller, warned him.
"Mil!" a childish voice exclaimed. So Neal woke up. Peter watched Miller walk around the car to get to the passenger side. His gun was still pointed at him.
The door on the kid's side opened. "Get out," Miller Murphy said, tugging the child by the arm. His gun was still pointed at Peter. "No. Fucking. Move."
"Wait, the seatbelts—" Neal unbuckled and got out. Rubbing his eyes, he stood next to Miller. Then his eyes widened as if the child had only now realized the situation Peter was in. "Hey! Cool it down, man!"
Miller ignored that remark. His cold gaze remained on Peter. "I warned you about what happens to those who do not stay away from the kid."
"No, Mil, wait, you don't understand—" Neal's voice turned frantic, the last signs of sleepiness fading from his pale face. "We met by accident. I was walking down South Street, Mister Morris's car stopped at a red-light, I saw him and he noticed me. I would be late if he had not picked me up!"
That… That was some quick thinking, Peter reflected, still face to face with Miller's gun.
He watched the criminal furrow his forehead. "That true?" he asked.
Peter nodded, slowly. He had to get into his role. What was his role?
"And now get that thing out of my face," Peter sneered. "I swear, you're the most incompetent bunch I have ever dealt with."
Ignoring Miller's gun, he got out of the car. Out of a corner of his eye, he saw Neal yawn, then stretch his arms. "It's a nice night," the boy said, more calmly.
Miller's gun was still pointed at Peter.
"Relax!" the child clapped the man's back.
Miller stiffened and then shook his head. "You were unconscious, G."
"I was sleeping!"
Peter sighed, reaching for a cigarette. He lit it, then turned on his heel. "Let's get going, shall we? We've got work to do." The blood was pulsing in his ears.
"We do, don't we?" Neal nodded happily, walking over to Peter's side. "I bet a hundy that Travis's going to be late."
"…So you just lost your money, kid. They both are already waiting for us." Miller's tone was dry. When Peter glanced to his right, he saw the man had already pocketed the gun.
"Oh," the little boy grimaced and took out a hundred dollars from his jacket pocket. "I underestimated your persuasion skills."
"Oh, yeah, you did." Miller chuckled, taking the money from the child. He clapped Neal's back. "He won't be giving you any more trouble, kid." His eyes met Peter's coldly. "You have my word for it."
"Cool!" Neal said laconically, joyfully running a bit ahead of them.
Peter stayed silent, and after a moment Miller looked away. He lit a cigarette and then took a puff. He did not say anything more.
Are you okay? Hearing Diana's voice in his ear, Peter clenched his teeth.
"Let's get this over with," he said.
Miller nodded. "Let's."
/\_/\
='x'=
Upon seeing Mister Keller, Neal stops mid-run. He watches the adult drop a cig and stomp it with his feet.
But Travis is nowhere to be seen. The adult must be waiting in their get-away car.
"Matthew," Mister Morris's voice comes from behind him.
"Peter," Mister Keller nods. "Mil." He raises his eyebrow at Neal. "Well, Georgie? Ready?"
With a smile on his face, Neal puts on the anti-dust mask. "Yeah!" he says.
"You have thirty minutes tops," his mentor steps closer to squeeze his shoulder. "Can do?"
Neal nods.
"Break a leg," he hears Mil snort.
Throwing one final glance at the three adults, Neal turns on his heel. The back entrance to Mister Neumann's mansion is just around the corner.
Next (28.02): The Heist