Peter stared at the mirror as he tightened his tie. His eyes were red and bloodshot and he had dark bags under his eyes. His frown deepened when his eyes caught the small box of Neal's belongings. He blinked back tears and pulled on his black suit coat. El walked out of the bathroom with a black dress on. She looked at him, her eyes held the same sadness as his.
"Are you ready?" Peter shook his head and sank onto the bed.
"No, I'm not ready to burry my best friend." He took a couple deep breaths and tried to keep the tears back. El sat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Come on." She gently pulled Peter up. They walked out of the house. Peter didn't feel like driving, so El did. He watched the people as they drove past. It felt wrong that the sun was shining. When they parked, Peter took a deep breath, trying to hold himself together, and then climbed out of the car. He took El's hand and together they entered the building.
Peter was shocked at the amount of people. Every chair was filled, except for two in the very front row. The casket sat in the front. The lid already closed and sealed shut. Peter was grateful, he didn't think he could hold it together if he had to see Neal like that. He didn't pay much attention, until they opened it up for people to say a few words. He stood and walked to the front. His hands shook and his lips felt dry. El smiled at him and he began his speech.
"Neal was one of the best men I knew. He actually cared about people. He enjoyed the finer things in life, which who doesn't? But he deserved to drink expensive wine and wear tailored suits. He was a good man and he didn't deserve this. When Neal and I first became co-workers, I resented him. everything seemed to come easy to him. But as I got to know him, I learned that he worked harder than any of us. His mind was brilliant, he had the ability to become anything he wanted to be." Peter glanced at the casket. "But this is where his journey ended. I wish it hadn't come to this, but at least he's finally free." Peter placed a hand on the casket and let silent tears run down his face. He gave the casket a pat and then sat back down in his chair.
He half listened as other people stood and said a few words about Neal. With each person, Peter grew sadder and sadder. Neal had touched every person in this room. His death had effected mall of them. Peter turned and glanced around the room, he recognized everyone in the room, except the man in the back corner with a black hoodie covering his head. He kept his head door, so Peter couldn't see his face. Peter watched the man, for some reason he knew that, that man was important. He watched as the casket was walked out and put into a hearst. The man in the hoodie slipped out and Peter rose to follow him. By the time Peter made it outside, he was gone. He sighed and walked back in to get El.
Neal knew it was risking attending his own funeral, but he had to. He needed to be there and see everyone one last time before he went to Paris. He made sure to keep his head down and not draw any attention to himself. He smiled at the comments people made. But when Peter stepped up to the front, he fought back tears. Guilt built in Neal's gut, he wanted to just tell Peter that he had faked his death, but he couldn't he was under orders. After the casket was carried out, he slipped out and left.
Peter watched as they lowered the casket into the ground. He was fresh out of tears. He stepped forward, with his hand full of dirt and dropped it on top of the casket. Peter and El were the last ones at the grave. They stood in silence and grieved in their own way.
"We should name him, Neal." Peter was startled by El's sudden comment.
"What?" El took Peter's hand and placed it on her belly.
"We should name him Neal." Peter looked in her eyes. And smiled a sad smile.
"Yeah," He leaned down and whispered to El's belly. "Hi Neal. You're named after a great man." El pulled Peter into a hug. As Peter hugged El, he saw the man in the black hoodie duck behind a tree. Peter let go of El and ran towards the man.
Neal cursed under his breath, Peter had spotted him. He thought of possible escapes, but he was too slow. A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Neal looked at the ground.
"Who are you?" Neal used an accent to answer.
"A friend of Neal's." He kept his head down.
"What's you're name."
"It doesn't matter." Neal shook Peter's hand off of him and started to walk away.
"Wait, please." Neal hesitated for a moment, but then continued to walk away. He could not blow his cover. Neal left Peter broken and confused. He only dared glancing back, when he knew that Peter was gone. Tears slipped down his face. I'll see you soon, Peter.
to be continued
