Unintended Consequences
Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.
A/N: Here's a nice big (i.e. long) Christmas gift for you! You can return the favor by reviewing and telling me what you think!
"Neal, dear. It's June. I've come to pick you up. Mozzie and Elle are very worried about you. I am too, you don't look so good. Do you think you can stand up for me?"… "Yeah, I guess."
"Let's get you out of here."
Chapter 13
Neal was lying on his side on the Burke's couch fast asleep. There was a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel and tucked between the couch cushion and the back of his head. Elle was timing it so that it wasn't on too long. After June had dropped him off, Elle had helped him get his jacket off because he wasn't able to manage it himself. She had looked through Neal's jacket pockets and found the instructions from the doctor along with the prescription. Maybe she could help him with that in the morning; right now she was just content he was still sleeping soundly on the couch. She turned to look at Mozzie.
"What do you think happened? Neal doesn't seem to remember much other than needing to find someone."
"Honestly? I think something went wrong at the drop while he was trying to find Grace. I knew something like this would happen. I wanted to warn him, but I didn't want Frank to get suspicious so I left one of those sleek style bullet proof vests for him with June. You know the kind you can wear under your clothing to be more discreet. I told her to tell him that Frank was up to something and to watch his back."
"You think someone shot him?"
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that his chest was wrapped in gauze along with the decent sized bump on the back of his head that they had already discovered. Being an FBI wife, Elle was well aware that as good as bullet proof vests were, there was always bruising and discomfort left behind from a bullet's impact.
"I do. I think the vest saved his life, but he must have hit his head in the process. He's safer here with you. I don't trust those doctors; they are only in it for themselves. They don't care about Neal."
"Mozzie, that's not true. There are a lot of good doctors out there."
"There are a lot of bad ones too."
Elle ignored Mozzie's last comment; not wanting to get into a fight with the paranoid little guy. It wouldn't do for him to be upset when she woke Neal up.
"He wasn't a bad doctor."
Elle turned around recognizing the voice.
"Neal! You're awake!"
"Is that a problem?"
Neal flashed a smile at Elle; she noticed it wasn't at full capacity, but it was far better than when he arrived.
"No, I'm glad. We were just concerned why the doctor had let you go so soon."
"I didn't want to stay. I wanted to get out of there; I needed to get out of there. I'm fine really. I was just tired."
"I think it was a bit more than tired, Neal. Do you remember anything about what happened?"
Neal really didn't want to talk about the evening's events; just thinking about it made his head hurt more.
"Elle, I really don't want to talk about it right now, ok? I just want to relax. It's been a stressful day, night or whatever time it is."
"Sure. Ok. Is there anything I can get you? Would you like some more water or maybe another blanket?"
"A glass of water would be nice. Thanks."
Elle turned around and walked to the kitchen. Neal noticed for the first time that Moz was standing by the entertainment center, just quietly watching him.
"What are you doing here, Moz?"
"I'm watching out for Elle. I figured you and Peter could take care of yourselves. Frank was going to go after her. I didn't want to tell you because you were too busy trying to please Frank with your painting. Do you even know what happened to the painting, Neal?"
"At this moment Moz, I really don't care. I don't want to talk about it, ok? I seriously just want to relax. Why am I here instead of at June's? Peter didn't bring me here, did he?"
Elle returned from the kitchen holding the glass of water for Neal.
"You've seen Peter? Is he ok? He isn't answering my phone calls and I'm really worried."
"Yeah, uh, I saw him, but I don't know where he is now. I'm not sure what happened, he wasn't at the hospital with me, so something must have happened. You know, you could always call Hughes, maybe he's heard from Peter."
Neal was hoping to distract Elle or Moz away from grilling him further. He knew it was a true enough statement; something had happened, but he didn't want to get into it. He didn't want to further alarm Elle and he really didn't know where Peter was at the present time.
Elle was looking at him like he was a genius and it was making him feel very uncomfortable. She bent over to give him a hug and then remembered he probably wouldn't appreciate it at the moment, so she lightly tapped him on his hand and looked into his eyes.
"Thank you, Neal for saying that. I don't know why I didn't think of that. Too much stress I guess."
Mozzie had already anticipated what Elle would be looking for while she was conversing with Neal and wordlessly handed her the cordless phone once she had straightened up to go look for it.
"Thanks, Moz."
She dialed the all too familiar FBI number and asked for Reese Hughes. Neal had seen the look in Elle's eyes. He saw the concern and worry resting there along with her many other questions. He had been as honest as possible without telling her the grim news that it was Peter who had shot him; intentional or not, he wasn't even sure himself. He was also trying to figure out why he had thrown himself at Peter to protect the man that had just tried to kill him. Why would he do something like that? In all his years as a con artist it had never once occurred to him to protect one of his partners in crime. He always followed the motto 'every man for himself.' Why was Peter so different and why on earth would he still try to protect Peter even after Peter had taken a shot at him? He obviously had not thought it through and acted on instinct, but where had it come from? He was too tired to figure it out and his head was really starting to hurt again. He realized that the peas were gone, and he desperately wanted something cool on the back of his head. He closed his eyes.
"Ppwweeaass. Could I have some pppwweeaasss."
Mozzie took a few steps closer to make sure he heard correctly.
"Did you say, "Please or Peas?"
"Ppwweeaass. My head huuurts."
'Great' thought Mozzie, 'so much for clarification.'
He noticed that Elle had hung up the phone and walked over to her.
"I think Neal needs some more frozen vegetables for the swelling. I can't tell if he was trying to say 'Please or Peas'."
Elle looked over at Neal with that motherly look of hers; noticing that his eyes were closed, but his face had a pained look on it.
"I'll get the peas."
##
Peter stormed into the FBI headquarters opening the glass doors with a force not seen before. Hughes saw him coming and walked out of his office to meet him.
"Peter. We need to talk."
Peter assumed that someone had filled Hughes in on what happened and he really didn't want to discuss it right now. He did feel lucky Hughes hadn't asked for his badge immediately.
"Sir, I know there will be an inquiry into what happened, but first I just need to find Elle. I just need a little more time."
"I think you'll want to hear this. It's good news for you."
"If it's not about Elle, I don't have the time."
"It is actually, I just spoke with her and she's fine. She's safe and she says she's back home. She left with Mozzie. I don't have all the details, but I'm sure she can fill you in."
Peter wasn't sure how much more of this emotional roller coaster he could take. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief washing over him. Elle was fine. Frank and his minions hadn't gotten to her. She was safe. He also felt very foolish since it hadn't even occurred to him that Mozzie might have rescued Elle. He really owed the little guy big time for that and he owed Neal a big apology for doubting him. He wasn't even sure if Neal could forgive him after what had happened tonight. He didn't even know if he could forgive himself. Right now, he didn't even want to think about it right now. Since Elle was safe for the moment, he had to concentrate on getting more details from Grace. Being just Peter was going to have to wait a bit longer; with Elle safe he could concentrate on being Agent Burke again. He needed to know if Grace knew anything about the real painting, where it might be and if someone else might come looking for it.
##
"Jones, I need to see Grace."
"Ok. Ah, you know Peter, you haven't even inquired about Neal. Don't you want to see how Neal is doing?"
Peter sidestepped Jones' question. He simply couldn't handle talking about Neal right now because then he would have to deal with what happened.
"I'm sure he's fine. He'll be in good hands at the hospital. Have you seen my cell phone? I thought it was clipped to my belt but now I can't find it."
"No, I haven't seen it. I could ask Diana though."
"Please do. Thanks Jones."
##
Peter sat in his office chair behind his desk and Grace was sitting in the guest chair that Neal usually occupied. He had removed her handcuffs as he didn't consider her to be a flight risk; with Frank dead, she wouldn't have anywhere to go.
"What happened, Grace? Why did you shoot Frank?"
"He gave me a choice Peter. It was him or you. You know that."
For a moment, Peter's vision of Grace morphed into Neal sitting as usual in his chair just across from him with his feet propped up on Peter's desk.
What happened, Peter? Why did you shoot me?
Neal disappeared and Grace reappeared sitting in Neal's chair.
"After everything I've put you through over the last 20 plus years, Peter, I just couldn't do it. I couldn't pull the trigger. The look on your face was like you had already forgiven me and I didn't deserve it. It made me feel loved, but then I felt ashamed, because you showed me more love than I've ever had from Frank. I just didn't know it until now. I couldn't betray that."
Peter once again envisioned Neal sitting in his chair with his fedora pulled low and an angry expression on his face.
How could you betray me like that?
"I…I…"
"No, Peter."
Grace interrupted him before he realized he had said anything out loud.
"You risked your life to come for me and I made the choice that Frank wasn't going to win again. After all you did to protect me, Peter…"
Peter's vision blurred and he saw Neal looked at him accusingly.
Why didn't you protect me, Peter? You know I would protect you! I thought you had my back!
"Peter? Are you even listening to me?"
"Yes! I'm mean…I'm sorry. I, uh, my head just still hurts, I think I hit it harder than I thought."
"I was saying that I felt I needed to do something to protect you, regardless of the consequences. I love you. You're my only brother. I don't want to lose you again."
"I don't want to lose you either, Grace."
Peter let out a long sigh. What was he supposed to do? There was still the possibility that Grace would go to prison, but maybe he could at least offer her some hope.
"One of my agents, Jones, says he would be more than happy to testify that shooting Frank was self-defense. He would testify that Frank held a gun on you and forced you to shoot. I'm sure that Diana would testify to what she saw as well. You were protecting yourself and me, Grace. I can't believe a jury won't see it that way. You did the right thing. We just need to let the system work."
Grace gave a wry laugh, and put her head in her hands.
"Doesn't really feel like justice though, does it? Will you be ok?"
Peter wasn't sure he would be, but he wasn't going to tell her that.
"I'm sure it will be fine, I'll be fine. We'll get through this. Together."
Peter reached out to take her hand and noticed that her hands were trembling. She was probably scared out of her mind.
"Peter, I've been asking myself over and over, did I do it for revenge? I didn't hate Frank, I just didn't want to believe he was lying. It just never sunk in what he was doing and the effect that it had on other people. It never sunk in until Frank made it personal. I am so sorry for everything. You have no idea how much I regret the last 20 years."
"We have to keep fighting for what is right and just, even if evil is present and may seem like its winning. Justice and mercy will always win in the end; even if it takes 20 or more years."
"Thank you for coming for me, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come."
"I admit I had classified Frank as a despicable type of vermin, but as Wendell Berry says 'Rats and roaches live by competition under the laws of supply and demand; it is the privilege of human beings to live under the laws of justice and mercy.' People like Frank think they don't live by the same rules we do, which is what makes my job so important."
Grace started laughing really hard.
"You thought of Frank as a rat or a rodent? I'm not sure why I think that's funny, but it is."
Grace could hardly get the words out she was laughing so hard. The fears and tensions were released as Grace laughed so hard there were huge tears rolling down her cheeks. Peter stood up and walked around his desk and stopped in front Grace. He offered her his hand and helped her stand despite the fact that her entire body was convulsing with laughter. He enveloped her small frame in a big bear hug. He started laughing too and they both had tears streaming down their cheeks. They stood there for several minutes, Peter not caring that anyone could see in if they chose to do so, after all they had 20 years to make up for. Fortunately, due to the late hour, there really weren't many agents left to observe anyway. Peter reluctantly pulled away.
"There's one more think I have to ask you, Grace. Do you have any idea where Frank might have hidden this painting? I know the one that was at my house is a forgery, but I know the real one exists. I need to know where it is. Do you have any idea?"
Grace was still busy trying to wipe away her tears and compose herself, so it took a minute for her to respond.
"I'm not really sure, we do have several storage units, but I've only been in them once or twice and not for several years."
"It's really important Grace. We need to know if someone knows that Frank had it, because if so, they might be coming after you."
##
Peter had left Grace in custody with Jones asking him to get a listing of the addresses of the storage units that Frank and Grace had, and they could check them out later. He was hoping to be able to talk to the district attorney and show that Grace was cooperating and that it had been self defense. That discussion would have to wait for morning though. He hoped to put off his discussion with Neal off a bit longer by going home and talking to his wife. Elle always had a way of making him feel better. After a few hours sleep, he would be able to think more clearly about what happened and then he would visit Neal in the hospital. A few Tylenol wouldn't hurt anything either as he still had a big headache from earlier. He parked the Taurus outside their townhome and opened the door.
"Elle? I'm home!"
Peter stepped into the entry way and took off his coat. He had barely gotten it off when his wife appeared out of nowhere and gave him a huge hug.
"I was so worried about you! Mozzie said you and Neal were in danger and then this whole thing with the painting happened. I'm so glad you're ok."
Elle gave him a quick peck on the cheek, but then pulled back a little and thumped him on the chest.
"Why weren't you answering your cell phone? I thought something had happened to you!"
"You said you would be home and you weren't and you weren't answering your cell phone either!"
Both Peter and Elle stopped and looked at each other before they both broke out in smiles and Peter bent down kissed Elle on the lips.
"I'm sorry I worried you. I was worried something had happened to you."
"Ahem."
Peter looked up and saw Mozzie sitting at the dining room table.
"Good to see you're okay, Suit. I was worried about you & Neal. Frank is bad news. Mrs. Suit was caught in the crossfire."
"I really appreciate it, Mozzie. I heard that you were her Knight in Shining Armor today. May I ask what you are still doing here if she is safely home?"
Peter's gaze fell on a painting propped next to the entertainment center and he slowly walked toward it.
"Never mind. I take it this is the painting in question?"
"This is the painting that was delivered to your wife."
Peter didn't miss the distinct vagueness of Mozzie's answer.
"But it's not the original, correct? Frank said he had the original and was going to leave the country. Unfortunately for him, that will be a little difficult, seeing as he's dead."
"Frank's dead?"
Mozzie could not have looked more pleased.
"Thanks, Suit. I knew I could count on you to protect Neal!"
Peter looked very uncomfortable. Elle noticed and reached for his arm.
"What's wrong, honey?"
"Hmm? Oh, nothing. I'm just happy we caught the bad guy and Grace is safe. We'll have to figure out what to do with the painting now. It could still cause problems if someone knows about it."
"Peter. There's one more thing you should probably know."
"What's that?"
"Neal's sleeping upstairs. He seems to be ok, but he was really confused earlier. I've checked on him several times and he seems to be feeling better, but he won't talk about what happened. He said he had seen you, but wouldn't elaborate. What was going on Peter? Do you think he would talk to you?"
Peter opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. He couldn't tell her just yet and he certainly couldn't admit to what happened with Mozzie standing in the room thinking he was a hero. He was already feeling guilty enough as it is. Fortunately, he hadn't seen any more apparitions of Neal haunting him since his conversation with Grace. He had been hoping for a few hours of quiet time, but it was clearly apparent he was not going to get it.
"I doubt he would open up to me, Elle. Not after what happened."
Peter turned to face Mozzie who was looking curiously at him.
"In all fairness, Mozzie, I didn't shoot Frank. I wanted to, but I didn't have a chance."
"Well, if Frank is dead someone shot him. He wouldn't go down without a fight. I also won't believe you if you said Neal did it. You know how much he hates guns."
"Neal didn't shoot Frank either."
"What is this? 'Always make the audience suffer as much as possible?' I'm waiting!"
"Quoting Hitchcock is not funny, Mozzie. This is serious."
"The suspense is killing me!"
"You really have a flair for the dramatic don't you? How many times have you watched North by Northwest or Rear Window?"
"The issue, Suit, is not whether I am paranoid. That's a given. The issue is whether I am paranoid enough.
"All right, I get it. You survive by being paranoid."
"I survive? I was the one that gave Neal the bulletproof vest! My paranoia saved his life!"
"Neal was wearing a bulletproof vest?"
Peter looked extremely relieved at that information.
"What on earth happened, honey? You're skirting the subject. This isn't like you."
"It was Grace. Grace shot Frank, but only because he had a gun on her and was ordering her to shoot someone else."
"If Grace shot Frank, Suit, then who was he wanting her to shoot? Who shot Neal? He was obviously injured, but he won't discuss it, even with me!"
Elle could see Peter was agitated, and put a hand on his arm to calm him down.
"Honey, Mozzie told me Neal was rescuing a friend of his who was kidnapped; something obviously went wrong. Neal called us from the hospital, and June picked him up and brought him here. What's going on? You've been acting weird all day Peter; starting with your phone call this morning about the color Indigo."
"Yes, Peter. Please tell me. What's going on?"
Peter turned around to hear the voice behind him. He saw Neal coming down the staircase, slowly but deliberately. Peter wasn't sure if this was another apparition or the real thing. His mind could very well be playing tricks on him again. He saw Neal sit down on the couch next to Elle who moved over to make some more room. Since Elle was obviously registering Neal's presence, Peter presumed this was not the apparition that had been appearing to him earlier. This Neal might actually want him to respond. He really didn't want to have this discussion, but it appeared that both his wife and his partner were demanding answers, and he couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of paranoid delusions were going through Mozzie's mind.