Title: You come with the dead who people my dreams
Fandom: Highlander/White Collar
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: AU
Pairings: mentions of Peter/Neal/Elizabeth; Methos/Neal; Kronos/Neal
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 180
Point of view: third
Prompt: Highlander/White Collar/Leverage/The Losers. Methos, Neil, Elliot, and Jensen. Neil was student to War, Elliot to Pestilence, and Jensen to Famine.
His uncle is waiting at the safe house, sprawled over the couch and holding a beer. "Didn't expect to see you so soon," he says, collapsing next to Methos and gesturing for the alcohol. It's passed over with little fanfare and Neal drains it down.
No, he's not Neal anymore. Can't be. Time for a new name, a new life. Without Peter, without El. Maybe with Moz, some time in the future.
"We owe a young one named Moz a favor," he tells Methos.
"But of course," Methos says. "We'll worry about that later. You need a good rest."
He closes his eyes, tries to sink into the couch. Methos rests a hand on the back of his neck. "I'm here," he murmurs, voice deep and soft, the same voice he'd used to coax trust from wild horses.
The same voice he'd used to give a nameless, pre-immortal boy to Kronos three and a half thousand years ago.
"Neal," Methos whispers. "Neal Adamson. My younger brother."
"Sounds nice," Neal slurs, and lets himself slump against Matthew, an older brother he's always wanted.