March

Neal got onto the elevator, holding a stack of files Peter needed. He leaned against the wall, taking a load off his legs, which felt ready to give out. The door opened, he looked, but it wasn't his floor. Hughes got on with him.

"Afternoon," said Hughes, neutrally.

"Hi," said Neal.

The elevator doors closed, and it started moving again, going up. The extra gravity pushed his left leg over the edge, his thigh cramped up and his knee buckled. He grabbed the rail, dropping some of the files he held.

"Shoot," he said, and knelt to pick them up.

They arrived at the floor that held the white collar division offices. Neal got his papers back together, and then looked up to pull himself up by the rail. He realized Hughes hadn't exited the elevator, and was watching him.

Neal didn't want to try and get up under such attention, but the other option was staying on the floor of the elevator. He pulled himself up, shakily, his left leg barely holding, and his left knee refusing to straighten.

He limped out of the elevator, cheeks burning, and walked across to the stairs up to the higher level offices. He hesitated at the bottom. Hughes was still behind him, heading to his own office.

Neal turned around, smiled at Hughes, "forgot, Peter wants coffee too."

He tried to slip past the older man, but Hughes gripped his shoulder.

"It's okay, Caffrey," said Hughes, "I'm not jogging up them either."

Neal let Hughes turn him back around to face the stairs. Hughes took the stack of papers from him, put them in one arm, and held Neal's upper arm with the other. Neal hesitated, really not certain it was a good idea.

"Just take it one at a time," suggested Hughes, not unkindly.

Neal did, holding on to the rail and steadied by Hughes's surprisingly firm grip. It took a few minutes, but they got to the top without incident. Neal tried to pretend he wasn't now in a fair amount of pain and his knee wasn't in the process of swelling up. Hughes was not fooled, and kept holding on to him.

"The freight elevator stops on the half floors, as well as the full ones. It does require an access key, I'll have them get you a copy."

Neal blinked at Hughes in surprise.

"You trust me with that?"

"Last I checked you weren't known for boiler room related crime."

Neal laughed, as he swung his left leg back and forth a tiny bit, and then tried to bear weight. It held, though it hurt. Hughes let go of him, and handed him the stack of papers.

"Thanks," said Neal.

"Take it easy, Caffrey."

Neal limped into Peter's office, put the stack of paper on his desk.

"Everything okay?" Asked Peter, clearly having seen Neal struggle and speak with Hughes.

"Yeah, Hughes was nice. He said he's gonna get me a key to the freight elevator."

Peter did not entirely succeed at hiding his surprise, and Neal giggled, "don't worry, I'm not crawling around in any air vents anytime soon."


The next day Hughes tracked him down at the coffee station, and once he finished making his cup, took him to the freight elevator, around the corner from the passenger elevators. Hughes pressed the button for the elevator, and waited.

Neal watched the older man, curious. Hughes had shown essentially negative interest in him in the past. Neal wanted to know his motivation for this sudden bout of supportiveness.

The elevator came and they walked on. Hughes took a small envelope out of his pocket and then a key out of that. He put the key in the slot, and turned the elevator to operate. They went up the half floor, Hughes took the key out and faced Neal.

"Here. Obviously don't lose it."

Neal took the key, "I won't."

Hughes paused before walking out, then spoke, "the bureau doesn't have a stellar track record for accommodations. If you need something and HR isn't listening, tell me and I will take care of it."

Neal suddenly remembered that Hughes had at one point been forced into retirement, and had won his way back. There it was.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

Hughes walked out and off back to his office. Neal stepped off the elevator, walked to Peter's office, and put the coffee on Peter's desk. He took his keys out and added the elevator key to the ring.

Peter, face in a file, finally looked up at the jingle, "oh, Hughes got you the key? That was fast. Good."

Neal nodded, "yeah. I think he has a beef with HR."

"That he does."


At the end of the day, Neal and Peter packed up their stuff. Peter started to head to the stairs, then stopped, shook his head, and went the other direction. Neal followed him, his briefcase strap across his chest, one hand touching the wall occasionally for support.

Peter reached the elevator first and hit the button, then turned to watch Neal coming behind. His eyes scanned from Neal's feet to his face and back down. Neal knew he was limping noticeably, and taking quite a while to get to the elevator, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

When he had the elevator turned on and the button for the ground floor pressed, Peter put his arm casually around Neal's shoulders. The freight elevator wasn't as smooth a ride as the passenger ones, and Neal let himself lean into the solid, warm support.

They reached the ground level and got off the elevator. It was a back corridor, Peter looked around for a moment before finding the way back to the lobby and exit.