February

Neal laid on the couch in Diana's office, reading, his legs up on the arm of the couch to try and reduce the swelling in his ankles. It was late afternoon, he was considering seeing if Peter wanted to go home early, as Neal really wasn't doing anything important and he was quite sore. He blamed the storms they had had recently. There was a quiet knock on the open door, Neal looked up. It was Hughes.

"Oh, hey."

"Diana around?" asked Hughes.

Neal shook his head, "out interviewing a witness, Jones too. I can call them if it's urgent."

Hughes shook his head, "not necessary. Are you available?"

Neal nodded, "what's up?"

"One of the other white collar teams needs a consult."

Neal sat up gingerly, and slowly moved into his wheelchair. Hughes watched him, face unreadable.

"It's okay if you want to say no, this isn't an order."

Neal shook his head, "it's fine."

He followed Hughes out of Diana's office, down the hall to the freight elevator. They got on, and Neal put the key in. Hughes pushed the button for two floors below them.

"What's the case?" asked Neal.

"Forged letters, they think."

Neal nodded. The elevator went down. Neal absently rubbed his thighs with the heels of his hands. He almost regretted telling Hughes he didn't mind doing the consult. It had been raining for three days straight, sleeting on and off, and he was intensely achey. Diana kept her office on the warm side, but few other agents did, and the freight elevator was frigid.

"It should be quick," said Hughes, "just confirm if the letters are a forgery."

Neal nodded. The lights flickered. Then they went out. The elevator stopped with a jolt.

"You've gotta be kidding me," said Neal, as he sat there in the dark.

"It looked pretty icy from my office window," said Hughes, pulling out his phone, "I'm going to call Rebecca, see if she can tell if it's just our building."

Neal also pulled out his phone. He texted Peter, letting him know that he and Hughes were stuck. The two screens illuminated the metal box they were in, throwing dramatic shadows. Neal used his to look at the elevator controls, and tried futilely turning the key to the off position and then back on.

He gave up on that, as Hughes finished his phone call and spoke to Neal, "she said the power is out in patches all over the city."

Neal folded his arms over his chest, "great."

Hughes looked down at him, the harsh light hitting his face from below making him look even taller and older than he was, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Neal, "I'm great. Who doesn't love being stuck in a cold metal box in the dark?"

Hughes snorted, but didn't press him. Instead, he leaned against the wall, and stiffly sat down on the floor of the elevator.

Both of them just used their phones for a bit, Neal texting back and forth with Peter and Elizabeth. Peter told him most of the other agents were going out to help police and EMS. He only had half battery though, so Neal decided to save it in case they were there for a while.

Hughes put his phone away after not much longer, leaving them fully in the dark. They sat in silence for a while. Neal tried to ease the pain in his thighs, using gentle pressure and long, slow strokes to try and calm cramping muscles, but his wrists didn't put up with it for long. He put his hands over his knees instead, trying to warm aching joints. This was not his favorite situation.

"Is Peter still enjoying the liaison position?" asked Hughes.

"He loves it," said Neal, smiling as he thought about his partner's joy, "he complains that he misses the math nerd cases, but then he talks for hours about the cases he does have, all lit up."

"That's good," said Hughes, "and Elizabeth doesn't mind him being out of the country often?"

"Elizabeth misses him, more than she tells him. But she's gotten so many new event clients having her own personal food importer that she doesn't have any trouble staying busy when he's gone. Plus she isn't alone, so…"

"I'm glad. Sounds like the three of you have made it all work."

"I think so," said Neal, "I know I'm happy, I think they are too."

They sat in silence for a while longer. Neal took his suit jacket off, and put it over his legs. Hughes repositioned himself on the hard floor, grunting.

"Besides," said Neal, thinking about things, "Peter couldn't be prouder of Diana. Her close rate is even higher than his was, now."

"I've seen the numbers," said Hughes, "she has been an exemplary leader and investigator. Don't tell her, in case it doesn't get approved, but she is up for a substantial raise."

"She deserves it," said Neal.

Neal hugged his arms around himself. It was only getting colder in the elevator. His body hurt. He tried to rub his arms to warm himself, but it hurt too much. His ankles throbbed, the joints were swollen and his left hurt especially as the anklet dug in.

"You're sure you're okay?" asked Hughes, hearing Neal move around and grunt in pain, turning his phone on to look at him.

"Yeah," said Neal.

"Alright," said Hughes, though he sounded skeptical.

Neal tried to look okay, straightening up in the chair, and plastering a grin on his face. Hughes was not fooled. He got stiffly to his feet, and stepped closer to Neal, shining the phone screen at him. Neal turned his head away from the light in his face, his dark-adjusted eyes smarting.

"Neal," said Hughes, after putting his phone on the floor still shining up, laid his hand on Neal's shoulder and found him tense with pain, "do you take me for an idiot?"

Neal chuckled, and shook his head, "no. But really, I'm just cold and sore. I'll live, I promise."

Hughes took off his jacket, and put it over Neal's shoulders. Neal looked up at the older man in surprise, and winced as his back cramped hard at the movement, making him take in a sharp breath and lean to one side. Hughes picked up his phone and put it away, leaving them in the dark, purple splotches in Neal's vision from the light.

Neal leaned forward, bracing himself. Hughes put his hands on Neal's back, gently rubbed the sore muscles, overused even though he hadn't done that much. Neal sighed, his body relaxing just a little.

"I got a call the other day," said Hughes, "I've been meaning to tell you, I suppose now's as good a time as any."

"That sounds ominous."

"It's just…sensitive."

"Okay?"

"It was from a US Marshall named Andrea Gerber, verifying details about your probation deal and residence, as you had recently reported to her that you were expecting a child after over a decade out of contact."

Neal went absolutely still. Hughes's hands moved to his shoulders, "it's okay, Neal. Quite a while ago, Diana came to me about something Peter had asked her to look into. I found an old file for one Neal Bennett, otherwise known as Danny Brooks."

"You…knew?"

"I did. I'm impressed you decided to contact them."

"I would never want for my kid to have that life," said Neal, quietly, "but if it ever came to that, if my dad's mistakes ever followed them, they would be protected now."

Hughes patted his shoulder.

"How long have you known?" asked Neal.

"Since right after your first big flare, the one where you were in the hospital."

Neal groaned, finally realizing what must have happened, "you mean the one where I was basically delirious?"

"Yes, that one. According to Peter you told the doctor your name was Danny, he asked Diana to find out what you had used that alias for."

"Did you tell them it was my name under witness protection?"

"No. I told Diana I couldn't find anything. It seemed like the kind of thing that was best left alone. You never told him?"

"No. I told Elizabeth, when we figured out she was pregnant. I wanted to tell Peter before the baby comes but I haven't…found a good time."

Hughes squeezed Neal's shoulder, gently, "it's an understandably big thing. But I'm sure Peter will understand."

"I just worry. He said yes to all of this not knowing that there was this danger…and not knowing what my Dad did, that he's just out there…"

"If there's one thing Peter knows about you, it's that there's a lot he doesn't know about you. He loves you anyway–even because of it."

Neal checked his phone. Peter had texted him

"Peter says the power will be back on in another hour or so, at least they think." He said, putting his phone away.

"Good," said Hughes, "I don't really want to get rescued by the fire department."

"Yeah," said Neal, leaning forward to brace himself against his legs, though leaning on his thighs hurt and he made a little grunt as he did. Hughes still had his hand on Neal's shoulder; he tightened it a little.

"I'm okay," said Neal, quietly.

"The problem is that's exactly what you'd say if you weren't."

"I'm…getting better at that."

"So are you okay?"

Neal let out a puff of air, half a sigh and half a laugh, and finally admitted, "Not entirely. But I'm just uncomfortable, nothing is wrong."

"Would anything make you more comfortable?"

"Wanna take my anklet off?" joked Neal.

Hughes was silent for a moment, then shrugged, "why not, honestly."

Neal stared into the dark at the vague outline of the older man, "seriously?"

"We're stuck in an elevator and you can't walk more than a few feet. I'm comfortable with that level of risk."

"I was kidding, but I'm not going to say no."

Hughes knelt in front of him, using his phone to illuminate a jumbled keyring, until he found the USB key he needed. Neal pulled his pant leg up. Hughes was very gentle, as he put his hand behind the painful joint and unlocked the cuff.

"No wonder you wanted it off," said Hughes, feeling the swelling and the heat emanating from the angry joint, "is your ankle always like this? Are they both?"

"No, it's the rain. I usually just put my feet up but…well, here we are."

Hughes's phone rang, he answered it, "Hello, Diana. Yes, I know, I removed it. Well, we're trapped in the freight elevator, I judged the likelihood of escape was relatively low."

Neal laughed. Hughes got off the phone with Diana, and looked up at Neal, "it comes off for good in a couple months. I bet you're looking forward to that."

Neal blinked, "I… honestly forgot it was that close. We've been so busy putting together the nursery and getting ready."

Hughes chuckled, "have you given any thought to what you'll do afterwards?"

"I can't wait to go abroad with Peter, actually get paid for being a consultant, but…I'm happy the way things are. Happier than I thought I could ever be."

Hughes patted Neal's shin, "I'm glad to hear that."

"I was actually…probably going to stay home for a while. It's the most important time to bond. Besides, some of El's business is booked more than a year in advance, so she has events right after her due date. As much as I truly love Peter, event planning is not his strong suit."

Hughes coughed slightly.

"What?" asked Neal.

"Oh...I was just thinking that Peter had to talk me into your deal, and I couldn't have been more wrong."

Neal's throat tightened, and he suddenly understood the sound Hughes had made.

"You know," said Neal quietly, "El had to talk him into it herself."

"Well then I think we all owe a debt of gratitude to Elizabeth."

"Yeah," said Neal.

After a while of silence, Hughes spoke again, "If you're really worried, I can try and find out where he is, what's going on with him. Your dad."

Neal stared into the dark. Finally he spoke, "I would appreciate that."