Alter Ego 3
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Peter didn't notice someone was talking to him till a hand touched his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin, standing up unsteadily as he noticed Jones looking at him oddly.
"Uhm.... boss, Hughes said you need to go home." Peter blinked at his subordinate with a bleary eyed glance, rubbing at his eyes. The clock read 1 pm. He had been at work barely three hours. He yawned.
"Go home? I have to look for Neal." His voice slurred slightly from lack of sleep. Jones shook his head, pushing in Peter's chair and leading him back around the desk to the door.
"Hughes said for me to drive you home. Come on." Peter started to protest until he realized he had done nothing but yawn continually since the time Jones had walked into the office.
"Fine, but call me first chance you find anything on Neal? Ok?" Jones nodded with a brief grin, leading his boss down the stairs and out the door to the elevator. Peter continued to yawn as they made it to the lobby and garage area and Jones helped him into the car. It wasn't a long trip home from the office but it seemed so much shorter by the fact Peter fell asleep at some point and had to be waken up.
"Is he ok, Jones?" He heard El's voice speaking in a worried but thankful manner.
"He's fine. He was just up all morning looking for Neal. Hughes said he needed to rest somewhere other than his office." Peter opened his eyes and saw his wife and Jones standing just outside the vehicle. The door opened and El reached over and unhooked the seat belt around him.
"Come on Peter." He nodded with a sleepy shake of his head, his wife and Jones helping him out of the vehicle. Peter stumbled up the stairs to the door and both helped him up the stairs inside to the bedroom. They lay him on the bed and El kissed him briefly before walking back out with Jones.
"Thanks again, Clinton. You're a good friend." El's voice was faint but still audible despite Peter's exhaustion. He pushed his shoes off and rolled onto his side on the bed still clothed, barely listening to the conversation outside the room.
"Not a problem. He's worried about Neal. I'll show myself out." Peter heard footsteps walking away, down the stairs and the front door open and close. Another set of quiet footsteps made their way to the bedroom and then he felt a hand brush the hair from his face from behind.
"Peter, you need to change out of those clothes. Peter?" He was so tired he just barely nodded before falling into a deep sleep.
(Lost and Found)
Nathan's continued to lay still on the alleyway stoop, eyes moving slightly as he dreamed.
"This is the beginning of those something for nothing schemes that got you into this mess in the first place..."
The memory was faint but the voice was familiar although he still had no face to match it to. The person sounded concerned for him. Worried maybe. Nathan tried to think who it was that he kept hearing in his head. This man was close to him. He felt a kinship with him as if he were his father or brother. He just...
Nathan opened up his eyes slowly, holding a hand up to visor them against the afternoon sunshine. He was vaguely aware that someone stood over him, his vision finally clearing enough for him to see. The man had dirty blond hair, a jean jacket and held a gun pointed at him. The young man was too exhausted to feel much of anything but this scene felt familiar.
"Give me the gun." He heard the cocking of a pistol, his eyes opening to mere slits. There was little light and the figures were murky at best. He could just make out movement and one of the shadows held something that glinted metallic in the dim light.
"I'll end it quickly." He saw the metal object pointed at him, a flash of light and tried to move but something hit the side of his head. More pain and burning and then nothingness.
Nathan squinted at the man feeling a slight recognition.
"You..." His voice was soft and raspy, the sound of the gun cocking as the man pointed it more directly at him. Nathan felt his heart race slightly despite his exhaustion. The man stood there holding the gun on him when another figure came from behind.
"Michael! Please..." The man with the gun didn't turn around, his voice growling softly.
"Shut up, Sam." Nathan watched the two argue back and forth as he felt himself slip back into unconsciousness.
He didn't wake up from the darkness for a while. His body ached when he felt himself finally coming to. His arms were pulled tight behind him, something stuffed in his mouth and tape pulled securely over his lips. Nathan gave a muffled groan as he tried to roll over. He looked as best he could around the small dimly lit basement. The only light was from two narrow rectangular street level windows. He could just make out the shapes of a few utility shelves with boxes, tools, knickknacks... He could just see a small staircase lead up to a wooden door from where lay on the cement floor. He shifted his weight slightly, hearing a rattle somewhere nearby.
The wooden door opened and he heard the creak of someone coming down the stairs. The footsteps neared him as he shifted his weight to get a better look. Someone grasped him by the hair and lifted him up a few inches, making him wince. He felt himself dragged back and something hooked to his bound arms. Suddenly he was being pulled up into a kneeling position, his arms up and behind him. The figure gave him a small kick in the back making Nathan wince again, eyes watering as someone grasped him by the hair again and pulled back hard.
"Seems we didn't complete this job the first time. SAM!" The man yelled and another figure came tromping down the stairs stopping halfway and looking rather frightened. The second man had dark brown hair, hazel eyes and dressed about the same as the other one. They looked like brothers he thought despite the circumstances.
"Michael, you can't do this. Please!" Michael turned and glared at Sam as Nathan watched from the floor. He saw the second man flinch a bit then move a few steps back.
"Shut up and fill a bucket full of water." Sam looked hesitant, staring between Michael and Nathan before he finally just shuffled over to the corner and started to fill a bucket from a faucet in the wall. After a moment, Sam returned with the bucket and placed it next to Michael.
"Now tie his legs and ankles." Michael threw a roll of duct tape to the other man who nodded reluctantly and started to bind Nathan's legs above and below the knees and then at the ankles. The first man smiled.
"Perfect." Michael walked away long enough to drag a small table over and drag Nathan on top of it. He secured the young man to the table face down, head hanging over the edge. He pulled the bucket close under the young man's face and started to push him into it. Nathan tried to kick away but he was bound securely. His face was submerged into the bucket of water and he struggled to pull away without success. He felt water go up his nose as he fought for air, hearing the other man's protests.
"Michael! This isn't right!" Nathan thought he would pass out when the bucket was flung aside with a loud clanging and his head was released. He squirmed against the table trying to push the water from his nose so he could breath. He was choking as the two men argued. Michael turned and watched with an expression of satisfaction.
"He's a criminal! You know he is, Sam! The same kind of confidence man who screwed our father out of his business and our inheritance! People like him may not kill with guns but they destroy people by stealing and conniving. I have to do this!" Sam didn't seem to agree as he pushed past his brother and pulled the tape from Nathan's mouth, smacking him on the back gently.
"I'm sorry... he's... he's angry." His voice was a whisper as Nathan tried to cough up the water and get some air back in his lungs. Sam kept talking to him in a gentle voice despite the grumbled mutterings of his brother. Finally Michael had had enough.
"Shut up already and go upstairs!" Michael glared angrily down at Nathan who just coughed and hacked trying to breathe. He felt sorry for the man despite everything and he wondered if everything he said was true. Was he a thief? A con artist? Had he hurt people? He still remembered nothing about his past but a voice in his memory rang out again.
"This is the beginning of those something for nothing schemes that got you into this mess in the first place..."
Peter? The name sounded familiar to him as it formed its way into his psyche. Peter. He was speaking to him in his head. He was like a father or older brother to him. Mentor perhaps? Nathan still couldn't think straight, head slumping forward as he continued to pant and gasp for air. Sam hadn't moved away from him.
"I'm not leaving till you promise me this ends." Michael looked about as angry as he could get but he finally bit down on his lip and chewed on it, nodding slightly.
"Fine, if you'll shut up. Untie him. I'm going out." Sam nodded, immediately cutting the young man loose. Nathan felt his legs freed, then his arms. He fell limp against the table, arms hanging loosely at his sides as he heard the sound of Michael going up the stairs. He continued to cough some in small spasms as Sam gently rolled him off the table and lay him flat on his back on the cool floor. He felt something soft pushed under his head as the man crouched beside him.
"I'm sorry about my brother. He... feels strongly about things. Probably why he works for the government." Nathan nodded slightly, closing his eyes as he wheezed and tried to catch his breath. He felt an arm wrapped around his waist as he was lifted up to his feet.
"Come on." Sam carried the young man up the stairs, Nathan's legs barely working as he tried to help. They made it to the top and Sam pushed the door open revealing a homey little kitchen opening up to the left into a den on one side and a narrow hallway on the other. Sam carried him down the hallway past three doors before he pushed one open at the end and pulled Nathan inside.
The bedroom was sparsely furnished with a single twin bed with white sheets and a matching oak dresser and nightstand. A small lamp sat on the nightstand giving off a soft white glow. There was a closet in one corner with a terry robe hanging off of the door but the room had no windows. Sam carried Nathan towards the bed and pulled the blankets aside as he lay the young man upon the bed.
"I'll make sure you get out of here. Michael just needs to cool off." Nathan nodded vaguely, watching the man pull his shoes off before tucking him in.
"Rest and I'll help you call your friends." Nathan nodded not sure he had friends as he mulled over the things Michael had said about him. The voice in his head made him think there was some truth to it. Maybe he did deserve all of this. He slumped back into the pillows and felt his body go limp as he fell into an exhausted sleep.
Nathan started to dream of his hand drawing marks on the wall. He was in a prison cell, a single bare bulb hanging just beside the barred door. He could hear the sounds of other prisoners around him sleeping, the hollow echoing of footsteps as the guard approached from down the long corridor. It was lights out. He looked at the marks on the wall and saw he had only three more spots to fill. Three whole months. She had disappeared and he only had three more months. Why didn't she wait for him?
"Lights out, Caffrey." He turned and saw Rufus peering at him through the bars in his prison guard uniform. He nodded slowly, reaching out to pull the string on the light. He saw Rufus smile and nod as he continued down the hallway, footsteps echoing into the distance. A frown crossed Nathan's face as he stared in the dim light at the hashes on the wall and finally moved back to the bunk and sat. He hunched over the side and felt his eyes grow warm and wet. Three whole months and she had vanished. Kate... where are you? He put his face in his hands and wiped at his face tiredly.
The memory faded away to him sitting in an empty loft. He leaned back against a column as he sat on the floor gazing at a bottle marked Bordeaux. He held it in his hands and just stared at it with empty eyes. She had really left him and he had failed her. Four years they had been apart. His fault. He heard footsteps coming towards him from beyond the column but he didn't move. Someone called to him.
"Looks like Kate moved on." Peter Burke appeared around the corner as Nathan turned and looked at the Fed. He blinked seeing the man hadn't changed all that much since their last encounter.
"I missed her by two days..." His voice sounded despondent as he continued to sit there unafraid of the agent or what he knew was soon to come.
"What's with the bottle? Message in it?" Peter walked around till they were face to face. He didn't look up, his eyes on the bottle.
"The bottle IS the message." He felt like crying but he wouldn't give the agent the benefit of seeing that. He saw the agent nod.
"What's the message?" He looked up at the agent and started to stand.
"Good-bye." He felt a sudden feeling of revelation as the memory continued.
"Is that the same suit you caught me in?" Peter looked down at the suit and smiled with a bit of a smirk.
"It's a classic. They never go out of style." He watched as the memory continued.
Peter... this was Peter. The man who continued to talk to him in his memories. He watched himself talking to the man casually despite the circumstances. He trusted him.
Peter: "I'm the only one what?"
Nathan: "The only person I trust."
Nathan felt himself starting to wake up. He felt warm... no he felt hot! He gave a little cough as he started to ease back into consciousness. He coughed a bit more, the air thick with heat and something else. He opened up his eyes and found the room filled with smoke. Nathan felt his eyes and lungs burning, pulling the covers aside as he flopped down to the floor with a thud. He crawled over to the door and reached up to the knob. It was warm. He managed to turn it and pull the door open, more smoke billowing into the room as it swung open. Nathan pushed his face down to the floor boards, trying to get some deep breaths before he crawled into the smoke-filled hallway. How far had Sam carried him? He tried to remember the layout. There should be a kitchen up ahead and a Den or living room off to the right.
It was hard to see, the smoke and heat seemed thicker as he reached the kitchen area. He stayed near the floor, eyes burning as he made his way blindly, looking for an exit. He saw a window but when he pulled the curtain he found it boarded up from outside and nailed shut. He cursed and made his way to what looked like a door. It didn't budge. Nathan slipped back down to the floor and sat there coughing as he leaned against the door. He closed his eyes, wondering how he was getting out when he heard it. It was soft at first and it came from the den somewhere.
Nathan pulled himself to his knees, finding the sink and a wash cloth. He wet it and then tied it around his face. He made his way towards the sound and felt a hand beneath his on the carpeting. He peered close and saw it was Sam. Nathan nudged the man but he didn't move.
"Sam... wake up!" He nudged the man again but only heard another quiet groan. Nathan peered through the gloom and saw the source of the fire. A sofa was flaming across the front door, blocking it, the flames spreading to the walls and up into the ceiling. He could smell something like kerosene filling the room as the sofa burned. Nathan coughed and nudged Sam again. He got the man in a fireman's carry and pulled him down into the basement, closing the door behind him. The basement was still cool but smoke was coming in under the door in small bursts. He remembered the windows as he lay Sam on the floor and pulled the table with some effort under them. He pushed both open and peered out. He saw a small enclosed courtyard but no people. Nathan cursed but atleast they had a breeze for now.
(...a quiet sleep)
Peter was dreaming about when he first caught Neal. The chat they'd had had been like two old friends. They knew each other better than any two people could know one another and not be related. He woke up thinking about that when he heard the buzz of his cell phone. Peter rolled over to grab it but someone slapped his hand gently.
"You're supposed to be sleeping." El had picked up his phone, peering at the caller id.
"It's not Jones. Sam Masters?" Peter shook his head watching El answer the call.
"Hello? Who?" She turned and looked at Peter with a surprised look and handed him the phone. Peter sat up and nodded.
"Yes this is Agent Burke. Neal Caffrey? Where? Thank you. Yes." He hung up the cell and looked at El who was waiting.
"He said Neal was with him. Gave me an address to pick him up." El hugged him and he hugged her back smiling.
"Want me to drive you? You still look a bit tired." He nodded.
Peter leaned back in the front seat as El drove the Taurus. He was glad they'd found Neal finally after the dead end at the shelter. When they arrived within a block or so of the address they found part of the street blocked off because of an apartment building on fire. El had to turn off the main street for the traffic detour and go the long way around. When they found the right street it was the address Sam Masters had given him that was on fire.
(Heat of the moment)
Nathan noticed more smoke filling the basement and the sound of things creaking and groaning as more of the upstairs began to catch fire. He could see some of the rafters overhead starting to glow with a faint light. Sam was still unconscious, an egg-sized bump on the side of his head. Someone had knocked the man out and left them both to burn. Nathan cursed looking at the small windows in frustration. He couldn't squeeze out of either one even if he could contort his body enough. They were far to narrow. He looked around for anything else that might serve as an exit.
It wasn't obvious at first but he found a small coal chute behind one of the shelves while exploring for other options. It hadn't been sealed up and seemed to be just wide enough that both he and Sam might be able to make it through. Just to be safe, Nathan did a quick shimmy up the chute and found the opening came out just outside of the enclosed courtyard in a small alley. He could see taxis at the end so he knew they were near a major street. He slid back down, his hands and clothes slightly sooty from the trip. He took Sam and carried him piggy back up the chute with just enough room to spare. He pushed the man out onto the asphalt and then pulled himself out, a cloud of old coal dust billowing off of him. He could hear sirens echoing off the alley walls in the distance and figured they must be on the other side fighting the fire.
"Michael..." Nathan turned as he heard Sam start to wake up. The man opened his eyes and coughed sitting up with a groan.
"Hey, take it easy." Nathan helped him lean back against the alley wall. Sam blinked seeing the coal chute opening and smoke starting to pour out of it. His hazel eyes glanced back at Nathan.
"How... someone hit me on the head and then... You used the coal chute? Thought Michael had sealed that thing up ages ago." He coughed again.
"Lucky he didn't. Can you walk?" Sam nodded standing up with a groan.
"Michael didn't do this. Maybe his friends." Nathan pushed himself to his feet despite his own pain. He'd worn himself out carrying the man to escape the fire. His abdomen was hurting again, head throbbing a bit but they had to get away from the building.
"Friends?" Sam nodded as they limped down the alley.
"He works for the FBI. I think he said they call his department OPR?" Nathan stopped walking as Sam continued then paused noticing the young man had stopped.
"You ok?" Nathan stood there trying to remember where he had heard that name before. OPR... OPR...
"Tell Agent Fowler I have what he's looking for."
He was starting to remember. Fowler had promised him asylum. Him and Kate. He worked for OPR. He had bugged Peter's home and framed Nathan of something.
An image of something exploding in his memory took his breath from him as he fell to his knees and started to hyperventilate. Kate. The plane... He felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, are you ok?" He turned around to look and saw Peter Burke standing there in his memory. He suddenly found himself standing on the tarmac at the airport. Peter was talking to him over the explosion. Calling his name as he held him back.
"Kate!" He heard himself scream in his mind and tried to run back towards the smoke and flames. Peter was holding him back, calling him.
"Neal, don't. Neal..." He was looking at the flames in his memory and then seeing real ones as they started to slowly erode the outside of the building before him. He felt someone pulling on his shoulder again.
"We have to go! The wall's going to collapse!" Neal looked back again and saw a stranger. Peter wasn't there anymore and the flames weren't in his mind. He let the man pull him from the alley way back towards the street. He heard a cracking sound of brick and mortar loosening behind them, the memory of heat and fire still fresh in his mind.