I AM NEAL (2)
Warning: Non-con implied
***WC***
"Diana, what do you have on Bryce Bomer?"
"Nothing Boss. There is no trace of him."
Peter frowned. No one makes up an alias of 'Bomer'. It's just not normal. It can be changed to 'Boner' too easy. No kid would use that name unless he had to.
"Any luck on the finger print?"
"No boss."
Peter tried not to show his frustration. The address the kid gave was also a false lead. No one in that apartment complex had ever seen or heard of him. He knew there was something more to the kid, but he couldn't make any connections.
Bryce Bomer had disappeared.
***WC***
"Moz what about that long con?"
"You're not ready yet kid."
Neal turned to Mozzie, "Why not?"
"Neal, you made too many mistakes in that last heist and now the suits know your face. We have to stay under the radar for a while until things settle down. How are you coming with that Van Gogh?"
"Almost finished Moz. I'd like to age it by myself this time, to make sure I know how to do it right."
"Good idea kid."
Moz sipped his wine while he watched Neal work. The kid was good, one of the best he'd ever seen. The kid had the potential to be one of the best cons he's ever seen. But he was immature and impetuous. Now he was starting to understand why. He never would have taken Neal in as his protégé if he'd known he was underage, it was too dangerous, but now that he was here, he couldn't just throw him back in the streets. No, Neal was his responsibility now, and he did have so much potential.
"When you finish that, we need to make some more bonds. Since we have to hold on to the jewels a while, thanks to your debacle, we need to cash some bonds. Our funds are getting low."
"Sure Moz. Atlantics?"
"Yeah, they'll work."
***WC***
Peter wondered what happened to 'James Bonds'. He hadn't heard anything from him in a while. He knew he would eventually resurface, he was too good to stay inactive long. They still didn't have any luck getting an ID on him. Just 'a good looking young man' was the best they could come up with.
James Bonds was suspect in several crimes, but they had no solid evidence and no fingerprints for them. Just the bonds. They had found fingerprints on one of the bonds, but no identity match with them.
Their break came when Probationary Agent Blake's current girlfriend, who also happened to be a bank employee, was handed a couple Atlantic Bank Bonds to cash. Blake was a little too talkative with his girlfriend and had told her all he knew about 'James Bonds'. When she saw the bonds, she was excited with the prospect of helping her lover and the law to get a dangerous criminal off the streets.
By the time Neal left the bank, Peter and crew were outside the building waiting on him.
Peter only hesitated a second when he recognized the kid that called himself Bryce Bomer.
"Bryce Bomer, you are under arrest." He announced.
As Jones handcuffed him and searched his pockets, Neal flashed a smile, "Well if you're going to arrest me Peter, you could at least use my real name."
Damn, the kid was getting arrested and still being cocky! As Peter guided Neal to the car, Jones looked in his wallet,
"It looks like his real name is Neal Caffrey."
Peter wanted to wipe the smile off the kid's face and grasped at straws,
"You do know it's a crime to give a false name."
As he pushed Neal into the backseat of the SUV, Neal flashed an even bigger smile,
"Well then Peter, maybe you should arrest me."
Peter slammed the car door.
***WC***
The trial was quick. Neal received a four year sentence in the federal penitentiary. Peter had done his best to bargain with the kid, but Neal just wouldn't listen.
"A deal would insinuate I was guilty Peter. I'm innocent. I was set up. I can't admit to a crime I haven't committed."
Something about the kid kept nagging at Peter and he couldn't understand why. The kid was guilty beyond the shadow of a doubt. He believed in the justice system, he believed in the law. Neal broke the law and deserved his sentence. But why did he feel guilty when he watched Neal being taken away in shackles at the end of the trial?
"Diana, keep researching that alias 'Bryce Bomer'. I feel in my gut there's something there."
"Sure boss. The kid got to you didn't he?"
"There's just something off about him. I can't put my finger on it."
***WC***
Peter forgot about Neal as he dug into his work. He had many other fish to fry.
It was about a month after Neal's incarceration when Diana came storming into Peter's office.
"Boss, we got a problem."
She slammed the paperwork on the desk in front of Peter. He read the report and froze. It was about Bryce Bomer. It had a picture of him that was definitely Neal's picture. It had a date of birth.
"How did we miss this?"
"He's listed as dead Boss; however his body was never found."
Peter stared at the date of birth and tried to get his mind around it.
"Fingerprints match?"
"Positive match Boss."
The kid had turned sixteen the day he went to prison. He had sent an exceptionally good looking sixteen year old into a federal prison full of testosterone driven adult men. He had thrown a minnow into a tank full of sharks.
Diana spoke up again, "What are you going to do Boss?"
That broke Peter from his temporary paralysis and he grabbed his coat,
"Diana, get paperwork ready releasing Neal into my custody. Get Judge Fairchild or Sims to sign it. I don't care how you do it, get it done and fax it to the prison. I want it there by the time I get there."
He rushed out of the office and barely heard "Yes Boss."
It was a three hour drive to the penitentiary, so he called the prison,
"This is Special Agent Burke of the White Collar Division of the FBI, I want Neal Caffrey put in solitary confinement until I get there."
"That might be a problem Agent Burke. He's in the infirmary."
Peter slammed his fist on the steering wheel, "Why? What happened?"
"Well, they got a little rough with him this time, but nothing serious, he'll be okay."
This time! "Post a guard on him until I get there! If anything more happens to him, I will hold you personally responsible!"
"Yes Agent Burke."
Peter slammed the 'end' button to hang up and beat the steering wheel some more. What the hell had he done? He was just a kid! He thought it was the longest three hours he had ever driven.
***WC***
When Peter arrived at the prison, he was escorted into a room to await Neal's arrival. He paced nervously until the door finally opened and Neal was escorted in wearing cheap street clothes, the standard government issue release attire. Although Neal was damn good at trying to hide it, he could not hide the stiffness and pain as he walked in,
"Hey Peter! Come to visit me?"
Peter could not believe that the kid could still flash that smile.
"I'm getting you out of here Bryce."
Neal blanked his face and looked at the wall.
"Bryce?"
Neal stared at a spot on the wall.
"Neal!"
Neal turned back to Peter with an all too innocent smile, "What Peter? You don't have to shout."
Point taken. "Let's go kid." He reached for Neal's arm to support him. Neal stiffened.
"I am fully capable of walking by myself Peter."
Peter could read Neal's reaction, I don't need help. But he did. In one month, Neal looked like he had spent a year in the dungeons of ancient times. He choose to help Neal save face,
"You are convicted convict, and cannot be trusted."
"Well geesh Peter, if you insist."
Neal relied so heavily on the support of Peter's hand; it was all Peter could do not to put his arm around him to increase the support. When they arrived at the car, Peter started to guide Neal to the front seat, but again, the kid's body language gave him away, and again, Peter choose to save face,
"You look kind of tired kid. Would you rather lie down on the back seat and catch some z's?"
"Yes Peter, I am somewhat tired. That would be nice."
Neal was gaining a grudging respect for the agent for knowing and giving him the decency not to comment on his problem. The idea of sitting for the ride back and hiding the pain had scared the hell out of him, but Peter had given him an honorable out. For a fed, he wasn't bad.
After they got situated and Peter started driving, Neal asked,
"Where are we going Peter?" Anywhere but here would do.
"It'll be late by the time we get back; you'll spend the night at my house."
"Aren't you afraid I'll run?"
"No Neal. I don't think you'll run tonight." You can hardly walk.
***WC***
Neal did fall asleep on the ride home and Peter tried to figure out his next move. His initial reaction had been to protect an innocent. That is the way he is, that is the way he was made. But now what? What was his next move? Neal was safe in his backseat for now, but what about tomorrow? What about the day after that? And the day after that?
Peter had felt an unusually protective instinct to safeguard the kid, and now he could not turn it off. He tried to figure out his next move and came up blank.
***WC***
When they pulled up to the townhouse, Neal did not wake up until Peter reached into the back seat to help him,
"Come on kid."
Neal tried to shake himself awake; it wasn't easy, he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a month. He climbed out of the car and tried to shake Peter's hand off,
"I got it."
"You're a felon. I'm holding on." You need help.
"Okay Peter, if you insist." I appreciate the help.
Peter guided Neal up to and into the house. Neal only seemed to be half awake. Once in the house, he introduced Neal to Elizabeth,
"Hey El, this is Neal. Neal, say hi to my wife."
Neal was groggy as he looked up, and Peter felt the kid stiffen in shock. Very faintly the kid mumbled,
"Mom…?"
"Neal, this is Elizabeth, my wife."
Neal shook his head trying to clear it, he looked back up,
"Pleased to meet you Elizabeth." and flashed a smile as he regained his bearings.
Elizabeth took one look at the boy and her maternal instincts kicked in high gear,
"Hi Neal. Has Peter feed you? I bet not. Well that's not a problem, sit down and I will fix you a plate."
As Peter tried to lead Neal to a chair, he felt the kid stiffen. Damn, he should know better. He steered Neal back to the living room,
"El, I think Neal would to prefer to watch TV as he eats. Let's eat in the living room tonight."
He guided Neal to the couch and Neal gratefully sat down on the softer cushions, but still wincing as he sat.
It tore into Peter's soul.
***WC***