Peter hummed a little to himself as he waited, leaning against the passenger side of his car. His mood was brighter than it had been in as long as he could remember. It'd been a struggle to maintain a sense of optimism over the past few months, as his attempts to negotiate Neal's release back into his old arrangement proved frustratingly futile, again and again – but he'd tried, for the sake of his wife and the rest of the white collar division who had to deal with him every day.
He hadn't always been successful – but he'd tried.
Today, he didn't have to try. Finally, his struggle of the past eight months had come to fruition. It didn't make sense to him, why it had taken so long to straighten out the mess that had been left in the wake of Kate's death – but it didn't really matter anymore. It was done.
Neal was coming home.
The jitters Peter was feeling were merely the result of months of false starts and raised hopes that had only met with disappointment. He knew that wouldn't happen this time. All of the proper legal documentation was in order, copies in the briefcase in the back seat of the Taurus, just in case – but he still couldn't help feeling the same nervous apprehension that had been at the very least in the back of his mind, every waking moment for the past eight months.
It was all over now, and Neal would be back where he belonged, with Peter and the rest of the white collar unit – but still, Peter knew he'd feel a lot better once Neal was safely in the front seat of his car, and the two of them were driving away and leaving this place behind – hopefully for good this time.
Not "hopefully", Peter reminded himself, shaking his head. Neal didn't do anything wrong – not this time. Yeah, maybe he came close, but – this wasn't his fault. He's made his choice, and it's the right one.
That's why I had to get him out of here – no matter what it took.
Peter glanced up again toward the gates, impatient – and then smiled with relief. There was Neal, walking out of the gates with that familiar, confident gait, dressed in the stylish suit and hat he'd been wearing that day, eight months ago – the day when it'd been determined that, pending further investigation into the circumstances surrounding the explosion that had caused Kate's death, Neal's special arrangement with the FBI was to be suspended.
Three years remaining on his sentence – but Peter'd had no intention of allowing Neal to spend it behind bars.
He'd earned better than that.
"Neal!" Peter called out across the distance that separated them, and Neal looked up, a little startled, but glancing in the wrong direction, as if he hadn't even noticed that Peter was there yet. "Hey, Neal! Over here!"
Finally, Neal looked toward Peter, lifting a hand in a brief wave of acknowledgement and changing his direction to head toward the car. Peter frowned slightly, struck by the abrupt, inexplicable sense that something wasn't quite right. There'd been a slight hesitation in Neal's gait as he'd changed pace, or perhaps a moment's lapse before the patented Caffrey grin slid into place, or… something, something Peter couldn't put his finger on that just set his instincts on edge.
But then the moment passed, and it was gone, and Peter could only wonder if he'd imagined it in the first place, as Neal reached him, his blue eyes bright and his smile cheerful and cheeky as always.
"Peter," he acknowledged with a nod, tipping his hat toward him with a graceful confidence that seemed untouched by the past eight months. "Took you long enough."
The words were light and teasing, not touched with even the slightest note of accusation – but they still stung a bit, bringing to mind the countless sleepless nights and frustrating dead ends that had been the only result of Peter's efforts for a very, very long time.
"Hey, getting them to release you into my custody the first time was hard enough," Peter retorted, masking the slight defensiveness he felt with a grin as he moved forward to meet Neal.
He clapped a hand on his shoulder – then, when that didn't feel like quite enough, impulsively stepped forward and wrapped an arm around the younger man's shoulders in a brief but warm hug – and that was when he felt it. It was slight, almost imperceptible – for anyone who hadn't spent the last several years of his life learning just about every subtle nuance of the behavior of one Neal Caffrey. Neal laughed a little in surprise, light and amused – but he tensed under Peter's arm, and when Peter withdrew, his gaze was averted, his smile a little awkward.
Peter frowned a little to himself as he moved around the car to unlock the doors, shaking his head slightly.
Was that a mistake? Maybe the hug was a little much. Did we ever hug before?
He couldn't really remember; it had just felt like the thing to do in the moment.
Maybe it wasn't.
Peter did his best to ease the strange sense of tension he wasn't even sure he was feeling as Neal got into the passenger side of the car and closed the door.
"El can't wait to see you! She's been trying out new recipes all week, trying to come up with the perfect welcome home meal. I'm telling you, the guys at work have never eaten so good!"
Those words at least earned Peter a smile with a little more warmth to it, touched with genuine humor. "Don't tell me what she settled on," Neal advised. "I'm sure she wants it to be a surprise."
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it!" Peter laughed. "You kidding me? I wouldn't hear the end of it. She's really putting a lot into your homecoming, Neal, with the cooking and baking and…" Peter hesitated slightly, clearing his throat in a pitiful attempt to cover it. "… cleaning. You know, setting up our guest room. If you want it."
Neal glanced out the window, fingers tapping idly on the arm rest, his smile taking on a vaguely disappointed edge. "Guess it'd be too much to hope that June would still have my room available, after all this time."
"Nah, she rented it out a few months back," Peter confirmed. He wanted to hold out on the rest of the story a little while longer, but his mouth was twitching slightly, betraying his amusement – not that Neal was even looking at him. Peter frowned again, worried. Suddenly, reassuring Neal of the old life that was waiting for him at home seemed far more important than teasing him with half-true information. "Let the guy know about a week ago that he'd have to move out. He wasn't too thrilled about it."
Neal finally looked up at Peter, his eyes lit with genuine, pleased surprise. "Really?"
"Of course." Peter grinned. "You think she'd want to have anybody staying there over you?" He paused, adding with a little half-shrug, "Of course, she had to give him a little notice. He was paying rent and all – you know, the kind with actual paperwork, and without the free but ridiculously expensive wardrobe. Still – he had it pretty good for a few weeks."
Neal was quiet for a moment, just taking in Peter's words. "Yeah, well," he replied at last, his voice strangely soft, a little too carefully casual, "he had to know it was too good to last, right?"
Peter glanced at him again, increasingly troubled by Neal's strangely pensive mood. He'd expected Neal to be a little more excited to be free again – more or less. He'd expected the teasing about Peter's taking his sweet time in getting him out. He'd expected the patented Caffrey charm to be in full effect. What he hadn't expected was this quiet, strangely calm, almost withdrawn version of his friend that was sitting beside him now.
"Well, anyway," Peter continued, letting out a deep breath that he knew betrayed his own unease, "you can stay with us. Just until your room at June's is free again. If you want."
Neal frowned slightly, glancing at Peter with an uncertainty that was unsettling to see on Neal Caffrey's face. "I don't know," he replied. "I don't want to put you guys out…"
"Oh, don't give me that crap," Peter retorted with a little huff of laughter. "You live to put me out."
"I like to think I have interests that are quite a bit more varied and refined than that." When Peter glanced over at Neal, he was smiling slyly. "You know… that happen to include making your life… more interesting."
"That's one way of putting it." Peter felt a sense of relief at the glimpse he was getting of the Neal he knew so well, and he smiled. "And you know better than to think you'd be putting us out. We haven't seen you in months. We kinda like the idea of having you around for a while."
Neal didn't respond at first, and Peter glanced over at him, noting with satisfaction that he seemed pleased and touched by Peter's words. After a moment, Neal replied at last, and Peter thought he heard a trace of relief in his voice.
"Okay. If that's what you and Elizabeth really want."
"It is." Peter was firm and insistent, though he knew the decision was already final.
When they reached the house, Peter was again struck by Neal's strange, just slightly off behavior – the way he hung back behind Peter and waited for him to lead the way up to the door. When Peter opened it, however, the choice was physically taken from his hands, as El met them with a delighted little squeal of excitement, immediately pulling Neal into a tight hug on the doorstep, before backing off only enough to take his hand and tug him impatiently inside.
"Come on, sweetie, get in here," she urged him. "I missed you so much!"
"Aw, hon, that's so sweet, but I was only gone a few hours," Peter replied with good-natured sarcasm, to which El responded with a roll of her eyes – and a quick kiss on the cheek.
"I missed you, too," she assured him with a warm, teasing smile. "I just haven't been missing you for nearly as long."
Peter met her smile with his own, and then a second kiss, on the mouth this time, and not quite as brief – but his thoughts were still focused on Neal. He knew now that he wasn't imagining it. He'd watched when El had hugged him, and noticed the same strange reaction – the odd tension in the set of Neal's shoulders, the way he seemed to almost imperceptibly pull away before falling into his old mannerisms and graciously accepting the gesture.
So, he wasn't just reacting to me that way, then. Something's definitely off with him.
Not surprisingly, that didn't make Peter feel even a little bit better.
Throughout the delicious dinner El had prepared, Peter kept an eye on Neal, watching for any more signs that something wasn't quite right – and finding plenty of them. Neal smiled and responded to conversation when it was appropriate, but his smile was a little thin, and his responses distracted – and he barely made eye contact with either of them at all. El seemed oblivious, keeping up a steady stream of conversation that at least managed to make Neal laugh a few times, until the last of their dessert was gone and their coffee cups were cooling and nearly empty.
"Elizabeth, that was amazing," Neal declared with a warm smile as he laid his napkin carefully on the table. "I haven't had anything so delicious in… well…" His voice trailed off, his smile faltering slightly before it fell back into place with a self-deprecating little shrug. "Well… in you know how long."
Neal only allowed a moment of awkward silence before he continued, favoring El with a bright smile. "Well, anyway, it was… wonderful."
"Thanks, Neal," El replied, taking his arm and rising on her toes to give him a light kiss on the cheek. "Let's go in the living room. We've got a lot of catching up to do… or if you're tired, we rented a couple of movies…"
"Actually," Neal replied with an apologetic but warm smile, "I am really tired, Elizabeth. Would you think I was terribly rude if I just wanted to… take a shower and get some sleep?"
"Of course not, sweetie." El dismissed his apology with a wave. "You must be exhausted. Whatever you want to do. Let me show you to the guest bedroom and bathroom upstairs."
While El took Neal upstairs, Peter went into the master bedroom and got comfortable, kicking off his shoes and changing from his button down to a soft, gray t-shirt and sweats. By the time El returned, Peter was sitting on the sofa with a mostly full beer in his hand, staring blankly at the empty TV screen. She glanced at the screen as she sat down on the sofa beside him, nestling in close to his side and resting her arm across his leg before she spoke in a conspiratorially hushed voice.
"What'd I miss?"
Peter couldn't really muster up a laugh, but he glanced down, shaking his head with a sad smile. "Nothing, I suspect. I just – can't figure out what's up with him…"
"Seriously?" El withdrew a little, just enough to meet Peter's eyes with a questioningly raised brow. "Peter, honey… I know he's acting a little strangely…"
"Try a lot strangely," Peter corrected grimly. "Try, like a whole different person level of 'strangely'."
"Okay, yeah, maybe," El conceded. "But Peter – who wouldn't?"
She waited until he turned to meet her gaze to go on, her tone patient and thoughtful. "He's been locked up for the past eight months, away from anyone he's close to, not sure when – or you know, if – he was going to get out – and you think he's not going to be a little out of sorts, his very first day home? He's acting weird, yeah. I'm sure he feels weird, you know?"
"Yeah," Peter sighed. "I guess… I don't really have any idea how he's feeling right now. Kate, the music box, everything that happened… and there was never any time to talk about any of it, to see where he stood or… I don't even know if he was going to leave or not, El. I really think… right there at the last moment…"
"I know," El interrupted gently. "You told me, honey. And I know… you've been waiting to be able to talk about all of this for a long time. But… now you have time. You'll get the chance to talk about everything, you'll see." She paused, reaching up to touch Peter's cheek and draw his troubled gaze back to her. "But you know as well as I do," she continued matter-of-factly, "if you push Neal at all, on any of this… you'll get nothing."
"I know," Peter conceded, trying not to let his frustration seep into his tone, and only failing a little bit. "I know, El, it's just… I can't help him if he won't…"
"Maybe you're getting a little bit ahead of yourself," El suggested mildly. At Peter's questioning look, she raised a single brow and clarified, "How do you even know that he needs to be helped?"
Peter was taken aback by her words, expressing a possibility he hadn't really considered. Maybe Neal really was fine. Maybe he just needed a few days to get used to being back home, back with the people who loved him. Perhaps he just needed time to adjust to his old routine, and he'd return to his old self again naturally. By the time Peter and El were ready to go to bed later that night, Peter had just about allowed himself to believe that he was probably just overreacting.
El was right; he had a tendency to over-think things, especially when it came to Neal. He was just beginning to drift off to sleep, thinking that tomorrow things would be a little clearer, and it would just take time for Neal to start to feel like himself again and things to return to the way they were before.
That thought was still drifting through his mind, fading into sleep… when the screaming started.