AN: Today is Independence Day in my country, so I thought I'd give you another chapter to celebrate!
This chapter makes a lot more sense thanks to my Beta, Deej1957! Thanks to everyone reading and and thanks for the reviews, they brighten up my day.
Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.
CHAPTER 10
It was dark in the alley. They were just around the corner of the Diner Neal's mom used to work in, back in New Jersey. One of Adler's men took a step closer to Neal and Kate.
"Don't. Adler, please, just let her go," Neal pleaded to the impeccably dressed man in front of them.
Adler turned toward his guy. "I'm not paying you just to stand there, get it over with."
The man took a final step and Neal watched with horror as he fired straight into Kate's gut. She gasped and fell down, instantly tainting the floor beneath her a deep crimson red.
"No! No! Oh my God! Kate! Kate!"
Neal was stuck in the same place. He couldn't move. His legs wouldn't move…he had just let that giant goon kill Kate. He'd done nothing to save her. Just like the last time. He was useless. He'd gotten Kate killed.
"Kate…" he whimpered.
Suddenly, he looked up and Adler and his men were gone. He was back where it all started. His mom's purse was right beside his left tennis shoe and its contents were scattered all around him in the street. The puddle of blood was bigger than Kate's and his mom lay there right were Kate had been a second ago.
It was exactly the way he remembered it.
"Mom?" he asked cautiously. His first call was always a question.
"Mom!" He tried moving but he couldn't move. He couldn't step into the puddle of blood…
"Mom!"
He finally willed his feet into moving and ran to his mother's side. He turned her over trying to get a look at her face and see if she was still breathing. Neal gasped.
"Elizabeth?" His mom had disappeared and suddenly Elizabeth Burke lay there. Her eyes were glazed over. Peter was going to kill him. He had gotten his wife killed.
"Neal!" He turned around to look down the street and see who was calling him, but he didn't see anyone and he couldn't take his eyes away from his blood covered hands. Kate's blood, his mom's blood, Elizabeth's blood…
"Neal! Wake up. Neal! It's just a dream… Neal!"
Peter was freaking out again. He had woken up for the second day in a row to Neal's screams. Elizabeth had handled his before, but she had left town on a business trip for a week and he found himself standing beside Neal's bed, trying to shake him awake.
"Neal!" he tried once more. The kid was tossing around, his whole body plastered in sweat. He had been screaming again a few moments ago.
Neal gave a final whimper in his sleep and opened his eyes with a gasp. He looked around hastily, panicking. In the commotion, Peter forgot to take his hand away from where he was grasping Neal and the kid started trying to shake him off. Clammy and shaking hands tried to push Peter's hand away. Peter let go and Neal immediately pushed himself farther away in his bed. He was shaking heavily and starting to hyperventilate.
Oh God, Peter thought in horror, he's doing it again. He barely had time to catch the boy in his arms when Neal's eyes rolled over and he collapsed.
Peter carefully set Neal down in the bed. He arranged the pillows beneath his head and checked his pulse. Then, he got up and went to the bathroom for a glass of water and a towel, and grabbed a clean t-shirt from the closet. He carefully pressed the towel against Neal's arms, trying to dry him off. He gently brushed Neal's hair out of his eyes and dried the tears and sweat from his face.
What the hell was wrong with Neal? He felt so helpless when this happened. He felt the urge to run and scream and grab Neal and take him as fast as possible to the nearest ER so they could put him back together. He wanted to make this right. No one should have to go through this. No one.
"Neal…" he said delicately. "Neal, wake up buddy."
"It's Peter, Neal. Come back."
After a few minutes of quiet coaxing, Neal stirred and opened his eyes slowly. "Peter?"
"Yeah, buddy. It's me."
"Elizabeth?" Neal asked in a pitiful voice. "Is she…?"
"She's not here Neal. She had to go to San Francisco, remember?" Peter asked cautiously. "She'll be back on Friday."
Neal looked confused. "Is she… she's okay?"
Peter stared back at him worryingly. "She's okay Neal."
Neal sighed in relief. He was still shaking slightly and Peter moved to grab the extra t-shirt so he could get Neal changed to something dry. He handed it to Neal, who stiffened when Peter's hand touched his arm. He grabbed it and started to pull himself up. Peter remained seated in the edge of the bed while Neal lifted his drenched pajama top, dried himself with the towel and put the clean t-shirt on.
"Here, drink some water." Peter held the glass out and Neal took it, drinking a little bit before handing it back to Peter. He closed his eyes and rested his body against the headboard.
"That was some dream you had," Peter said. He was terrible at these things. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to make everything right and he knew he couldn't. "Want to talk about it?"
Neal opened his eyes slowly and Peter noticed that they were big and wet. The kid was about to cry. I can't handle crying… Peter thought in a panic.
"I don't think so Peter. Sorry I woke you up. You should really go back to sleep. I'm fine," Neal said in a casual voice. Everything about him belied his statement. His pale face, his clenched shaking hands, his tear filled eyes.
Peter sighed. He wished he could just hold him and make him better. "Neal, you have to stop doing this. You are not fine. Just talk to me, I can help."
Neal shook his head and stared down at his hands. "I can't Peter," he said, almost a whisper.
"Okay kid," said Peter resignedly. "Just try to get some rest." They were both tired. He'd get him to talk soon enough. He had to do something, but maybe now was not the time.
Neal nodded and moved down the bed. He pulled the comforter up over his shoulders and turned his body to the side so his back was towards Peter. He didn't want Peter to see his tears when they finally fell from his eyes.
He expected Peter to get up and leave. His back was practically a dismissal from his room, but Peter didn't go. He could feel his weight on the bed, the heat of his body against him, and could hear his quiet and steady breaths. After a few minutes he finally let the tears in his eyes fall and he cried as quietly as possible. He cried until there were no tears left and still Peter didn't move. Neal had never been able to go to sleep after a nightmare induced panic attack. Not even with Mozzie beside him.
After a while he settled down, closed his eyes, and concentrated on Peter's calm regular breathing. He thought about the fact that Peter hadn't left him alone, and after what seemed like an eternity of silence and steady breaths, he finally fell asleep.
Peter watched Neal shake and cry silently and his heart ached. He wanted to reassure him, he wanted to put a hand in his shoulder and tell him it would be okay, but he couldn't. So he just stayed there. He turned his body and sat on the edge of the bed staring at the opposite wall for what seemed like an eternity, until he was absolutely sure that Neal had fallen asleep again. He finally got up, left the door of the room open and went to his own room. He looked at the alarm clock. It was 3:15 am. It had taken two hours for Neal to finally get to sleep again. He looked at his empty bed and an abrupt and uncontrollable desire for Elizabeth took hold of him. He wanted to hold her tight and forget about the nightmares and the screams. He dropped down on his bed and fell asleep hugging a pillow and thinking about how lonely the boy in the next room must feel.
Neal woke up the next day to sunshine coming through the window and the smell of coffee and bacon. He turned to look at his alarm clock and saw that it was already nine in the morning. He was so late for school! He got up quickly; he grabbed a pair of khaki pants and a white button down shirt and made his way to the bathroom.
Peter watched Neal coming down the stairs rapidly but gracefully, with his hair perfectly arranged and his backpack on his shoulder.
"Morning, Peter. Sorry, I don't think I'll have breakfast, I'm late for school," Neal said as he made his way through the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar, an apple, and a bottle of water.
"You might as well eat breakfast Neal. I called the school. You're not going today. I thought I'd take you in to work with me. We got a few new leads yesterday that can't wait till the afternoon," Peter said. That wasn't necessarily true, they did have some leads, but they could wait. He just wanted to keep Neal close by today.
"Oh," Neal said surprised. "Really? You're letting me skip school?" he asked with a grin. He put his backpack on the floor beside the table and sat down. He took a sip of his coffee and gobbled down a piece of bacon.
"This is a one-time thing, don't think it's happening again," Peter responded with a smile. Neal definitely looked better. He felt good about letting him sleep late. The extra hours of rest had done him wonders.
They ate breakfast and arrived at the Bureau half an hour later. Neal made his way over to a little desk they had provided him with on the corner, and Peter made his way to his office. He stepped out twenty minutes later to talk to Hughes.
Neal watched him from his desk and turned his attention towards the stack of papers he had in front of him. Ugh! Was there anything worse or more mind-numbing than filing papers? Yeah, probably: mortgage fraud, he thought with distaste. He was the property of the FBI and as long as Peter was concerned that meant putting Neal to work. Even if they didn't have leads on Adler, Neal had become the White Collar's filer and errand boy.
"Good morning Neal. Peter's making you work on a school day?" Neal lifted his head to look at Agent Jones. He immediately smiled. He had liked Jones from the first time he met him.
"Apparently you guys can't get through a day without my impressive filing skills," Neal said.
"Neal!"
They both looked up and saw Peter giving him the two finger point. He got up from the table and excused himself from Jones. He made his way casually to Peter's office and closed the door behind him.
"Peter?" he asked, sitting down in front of Peter's desk while starting to play with his elastic rubber band ball.
"I just talked to Hughes," Peter said, not looking up from the papers on his desk. He nodded towards a giant stack of folders on his right. "They just finished going over every single crime and person that has been in contact or suspected of being in contact with Adler. I'm busy with another case so you're going to go through every file and let me know if something pops out."
Neal took another look at the files on his desk and got up reluctantly to grab them. He made his way to the door and stopped at Peter's call.
"Neal, there's five more stacks when you're finished with those," Peter said.
"Ugh, Peter," said Neal with a grimace, "don't you have enough agents around to do this?"
Peter looked up and grinned. "I've got something better, I got you."