A/N Filler chapter, sorry, but the next one will be exciting, promise. Enjoy this one for the moment though. Please Read ad Review. Love ya guys!
Neal writhed and squirmed, his face expressing a million emotions that were generally washed away by his nonchalance. His nose crinkled and he whimpered a pitiful noise Peter was not used to hearing from Neal. He had heard desperation, agony, depression, and frustration. But a noise so gut-wrenching you have to feel sorry for the guy? It just didn't happen. Neal had been asleep for awhile now, and while Peter knew he needed it, he felt guilty for letting him have it. Because every dream was filled with fire and Kate and betrayal that made Neal seem so… human. He always seemed like a robot, Spock that was more social. He was always in control. But when he was sleeping, you could see through the cracks in his armor. See the pale skin and the faded tear stains, the scars on his heart, and the stress wrinkles on his face. You could see it all, his life in a million different ways. So Peter let Neal sleep, running his fingers through the dyed locks and channeling the loving presence of El, his beautiful wife.
Neal awoke slowly, his mind rested in a sleep sense but it was racing. He hated Kate for not loving him. He had fought for her, went back to jail for her, worked with the FBI for her. And she… she pretended to love Neal for Sam. Sam! The same man who she witnessed beat the living crap out of every single prodigy he ever recruited. How could she? His blood boiled and he stormed out of the Burkes, before Peter could even react, stop him, or say a single thing. Neal ran, his shoes clattering on the hard concrete, his blonde hair ruffling into the wind. It was fading a bit but it just looked like the fall was darkening his hair. He liked running, the feeling of pushing himself. It was a challenge, a challenge that he could not breathe properly for a while, that he could strain his muscles, and that he could stay upright and not fall. So he pushed on, enjoying the bite of the wind, the color of the trees as he passed brown, red, yellow trees. He jumped over a bench and kept going. Swerving to miss dogs, people and everyone in between.
He pushed the door to Sam's warehouse open and raced into the room. He grabbed a pen and paper, and sat down. He had to write a report of what he had done to the Agent. What he should have done. What Sam wanted him to do. With clenched teeth, he lied. Stating a few broken ribs, a sprained wrist, and a possible concussion. He hated that he had to do this. That Hughes wouldn't let him out. His cover had been blown, but Hughes refused to believe that Peter's source was reliable. That Mozzie could possible know what he was talking about. He signed the note by his alias and slid it under Sam's door. He snorted and went off to find Patrick. If he could, he just wanted to hang out with the kid, show him that he was safe. That Neal would get him out.
But when he reached the young boy's room- Prison, cell, box, cage Neal thought, it suited it better; but still referred to it as a room- it was empty. Patrick not seated in a pristine white stool. Instead there was a cross on the table. Neal knew that meant that Sam had lost him, had returned to find the kid had run. The cross to symbolize a death, but resurrection. For Sam, a death in that the kid was gone, a resurrection in that a new prodigy with a better skill in an area the kid was lacking would replace Patrick. Neal smiled, because there had to be a cross when Neal left. That he had lost Neal, Neal who was one of the best forgers for his age. He smiled too because Patrick made it out, he escaped. To a better life, a better world. And he didn't have a love who was a con woman, so he wouldn't be stuck in a life of crime. To be put in a cell, to be condemned to always being an evil man. And Neal felt victorious that a kid was back to being normal, to be on a track to heaven. It was a win to him.
Feeling much better he returned to the bed in the shared room, pulling the black comforter back up and crawling in. He clutched his phone and waited, waited to be patched into a conversation with Sam where Sam still believed that Neal thought his cover was intact. They still had a lead on Sam, they just had to play their cards right and pray that his temper never flared, that he never decided to just end it. To just kill Neal and escape, without jail time, without a care, but with the woman that made it all happen. Kate.
Kate, Neal thought, was a name that should never be used again. Because to him it meant love and hate, trust and betrayal, it meant contradictions, it meant hurt. But most of all it meant that he would never have his happily ever after. And sometimes, the villain should deserve a happy ending. Especially when they are trying so damn hard to free them self of their evil. He deserved a happy ending, and he decided that his was going to be living his life. With Peter, with El. With everything good and happy. With a man who was his best friend, the only one who trusted him, the man who would die for him.
After all, Peter was the only one who was willing to do that. And it felt good to have a man like that.
A/N Free time! I got a chapter done. Ha-ha! Yeah. Just wait for the next one, suspense is next to come. Mahwahahaha. Thanks for being so patient with the updates guys! Love ya!