I own nothing but the mistakes, for which I accept all responsibility.
Chapter Six
"Why do I do that?" Neal's eyes had opened, but his words came slowly as if he had to concentrate to form each one, "Why do I always do what you want?"
Peter's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You don't; I told you to let the EMT's check you out before you left, which you obviously did not do."
"I didn't say I always do what you tell me," Neal mumbled, "That's different. But I do what you want me to," Neal said, perplexed, "I don't even know why; I just do."
"Its because you trust me, Neal," Peter answered, concerned as Neal's words grew slower and more unclear. "And you trust my judgment."
"But why would I do that?" his voice was faint as he put a hand on his forehead, squeezing at this temples, "I don't trust anyone."
"You trust me; you told me so."
"But he said …my judgment was clouded…that I let you…. control me…" He stopped, dropping his hand and looking at Peter with confused eyes, "Mozzie says the same thing….It's why I am still here, still in this anklet," he moved his left foot slightly.
At Neal's words, Peter remembered the surveillance section that he had listened to just this morning. Jones had specifically tagged it for him to listen to from the day before. When he had seen the tag, he had looked at Jones quizzically, "No notes?" Usually anything important was jotted down by the monitoring agent.
"Not case related," Had been the cryptic answer. Peter had gone immediately to his office and found the time stamp indicated and listened to the conversation between Donald Teagan and Neal. It must have been during dinner because Peter could hear the sound of cutlery on the plates.
Teagan: I have done extensive research on you.
Neal: So you think you are an expert on Neal Caffrey?
Teagan: I think I am becoming one, yes, can I call you Neal?
Neal: Since you're an expert and all, why not?
Teagan: Burke calls you Neal. And you call him Peter (brief pause) You can call me Don if you wish."
Neal: Since I have not done extensive research on you, I am perfectly content to call you Mr. Teagan.
Teagan: But Agent Burke you call Peter.
Neal, clearly irritated: Being on a first name basis gives the impression of trust and camaraderie; anything to make it harder to for the man to send me back to prison. (Pause) Orange isn't my color.
Teagan: That can work both ways, you know. We thought that after two year of playing that trust and camaraderie role you had fallen for your own con.
Neal: Then your expert on Neal Caffrey claim isn't very impressive.
Teagan: My partners believe Agent Burke has some kind of psychological hold on you, and he has used it to control you. In their opinion, your wings have not only been clipped by the FBI, but you have in fact been tamed and no longer have an interest in flying. They didn't think you would do the job willingly."
Neal: Why would they think that?
Teagan: Extensive research. You weren't much more than a kid when you crossed Agent Burke's path. From what we can tell, he has pretty much been the only consistent person in your life.
Neal, annoyed: Yes, a consistent pain in my ass. He put me in prison; twice. Not to mention parading me around in that damn anklet and threatening to send me back to prison every other week.
Teagan: But you said yourself even after he put you in prison, you sought him out. You instigated your current working relationship. That indicates that you wanted to keep his presence in your life in some way.
Neal: That isn't true. I just needed his presence to stay out of prison.
Teagan: You have stayed in this situation with Burke for more than two years, and someone like you would have other options. Something has kept you from running, and we know it wasn't a tracking device. You are attached to the man, Neal, and that has affected your judgment. I'm just glad you finally chose to break his hold over you before it was too late.
"I told you definitely yes on the disoriented symptom, remember?" Mozzie was saying beside him, shaking him from his memory.
Peter looked back at Neal, understanding his derailed train of thought.
"I'm trapped," Neal continued. "It doesn't matter how good my escape plans are if I'm never able to take any of them," his voice was plaintive, "and I have some great plans, Peter, and Mozzie …. incredible ones, but I just couldn't… then the helicopter… I knew it was a chance… toss the watch…. but I didn't…just couldn't run…." By the end Peter was struggling to understand him, his speech markedly slow and unclear. Where was the ambulance?
"I am glad you didn't run, Neal," Peter said, trying to comfort the obviously disconcerted young man. But curiosity got the better of him. "Neal," he tried to catch Neal's dull eyes with his own, "Neal, look at me: What great plans?"
Before the blue eyes could find his, Mozzie put a hand on Neal's shoulder.
"Speaking as Neal's attorney," Mozzie interrupted, "I have to insist that…"
His warning was interrupted by the sound of the ambulance arriving.
"Go let them in, Mozzie," Peter said.
"Suit," Mozzie said, heading for the door, "No interrogating a man with a head injury!"
Peter turned back to Neal, surprised when the blue eyes met his. "The only time I did was when you wanted me to," Neal's voice was faint but somewhat clearer.
"Only time you did what, Neal?"
"Ran," he whispered, "I ran because you wanted me to."
Peter heard Mozzie and the medics arriving in the apartment, and he moved away from the bed as they entered. They immediately went to work.
"Can you tell me your name?" One medic was strapping a blood pressure cuff on Neal's arm, and the other was holding Neal's forehead with one hand and flashing a light into his eyes. Peter and Mozzie stood aside, watching as they did their jobs.
"Neal Caffrey," Neal muttered, wincing against the discomfort of the light, "Consultant, hostage…" the medic sent a questioning look at Peter.
"He took a blow to the head," he explained, "and he's loopy." Peter flashed his badge, "I am Agent Peter Burke and Mr. Caffrey works with me as a consultant." He looked at Neal, "He is not a hostage."
"How are you feeling, Mr. Caffrey?" The medic was now examining Neal's head, and Neal grunted in pain when the lump was discovered.
"Mozzie says it's Stockholm syndrome…." The medic looked at Peter, eyebrows raised in question again.
"We think concussion," Peter supplied.
"…Even when I get a chance…I won't do it…I'm trapped." Neal continued.
Peter shook his head slightly, dismissing Neal's comments. "Headache, nausea and vomiting, hard time keeping him awake, and, of course," he looked at Neal, "he's loopy."
"Yes, he's obviously disoriented, lethargic and his pupils are unequal, too. How long ago did this happen?" he motioned towards Neal's head.
"About four hours ago."
"And his symptoms have gotten worse and not better?"
"Definitely worse, just since I've been here." Peter said, looking at Neal in concern. He had grown quiet and his eyes were closed.
"Mr. Caffrey," the Medic said, "Stay with me." He gently tapped Neal on the cheek. "Come on, open your eyes for me."
"Light hurts…." Neal mumbled; eyes still closed, "I just wanna sleep. In my bed….don't want to go anywhere…."
"Let's get him transported."
"Is he going to be okay?" Peter asked.
"His vitals are good, but we need to get him in for a CT scan to determine the seriousness of his injury." They moved Neal onto the stretcher. "You can follow us in."
"Hold up," Peter said, pulling the key to the anklet from his pocket. "He wears a tracking device on his left ankle," he went around the stretcher and removed the anklet, "No CT scans with that thing on him."
"Not a hostage, huh?" The medic chuckled as they went out the door.
Peter and Mozzie followed. Neal was still mumbling, but it was unintelligible to anyone but him.
"So, Mozzie," Peter began as they descended the staircase, "am I hearing that Neal has like a half dozen ways to escape FBI custody and disappear at any given time?"
"Well," Mozzie said, "one less than that since the 2.5 million dollar ring is no longer in his possession." Mozzie cleared his throat uncomfortably. "He is suffering from a concussion so nothing he has said can be used against him."
Peter stopped and looked at Mozzie incredulously. "You are serious; Neal has actual escape plans in place." Mozzie paused two stepped below and looked back at him.
"Of course he does; he's Neal. He had a plan to get out of Sing Sing within a week of being there. He just didn't choose to use it. He wanted to do his time. Until…
"Kate delivered her little farewell message," Peter finished. With less than four months left on his sentence, Neal had ran.
"Yes, he let his emotions override his judgment, and look where that got him. You wonder why he worries about his abnormal attachment to you?" He looked at Peter like he was an idiot, "Of course Neal has plans. You act like that is a bad thing."
Mozzie continued down the stairs, and Peter followed, the conversation continuing. "Neal having escape plans? Yes, Mozzie, I consider that a bad thing."
"I fear you underestimate the subtle nuances of an escape plan. An escape plan's purpose is..."
"Fairly straightforward and self-explanatory, I think," Peter said.
….. not always to provide a way to escape," Mozzie continued, ignoring the interruption, "sometimes its purpose is to make staying in a difficult situation possible."
"That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever."
"It make perfect sense, Suit," he explained. "An escape plan guarantees a person latitude, laissez faire, flexibility…"
"Plenty of rope to hang oneself?" Peter interrupted again.
"freedom, Suit," Mozzie said. "Freedom is having the ability to make a choice. In order to make a choice, a person must have options from whence to choose. An escape plan provides an option, therefore giving a person a choice: run or stay put."
They had reached the sidewalk where the medics were loading a now silent Neal into the waiting ambulance. Peter watched as they pulled the doors closed. A moment later they sped away. He looked at Mozzie, understanding slowly dawning on him. Neal had a plan to escape prison but hadn't wanted to use it. He just needed to know escape was an option.
"The purpose is to make staying in a difficult situation possible," Peter said, "by making it a choice. Neal stays because he sees it as his choice."
"Yes, but the thing is, for it to work, escape has to stay a viable option; you have to know you can do it if you want to." Mozzie shrugged, "that's what Neal's concussed brain is in a tizzy about. He's afraid he can't use any of his escape plans."
"Why?" Peter asked. They had arrived at his car.
"Because he knows you don't want him to, and for some reason he feels compelled to please you," Mozzie's voice was bitter. "If you remove the option of escaping, Suit, it takes away his ability to choose to stay. It makes him feel…."
"trapped," Peter finished remembering the mournful tone of Neal's voice.
"And be warned," Mozzie said, waiting for Peter to unlock the car door, "a trapped Neal is not a pretty sight."