When Peter had gone home the day before, he had intended to talk to El about all this, work out a plan and sleep a night over the problem.
Now it was 8 a.m. in the morning and he was standing right in front of the supermax prison.
Although he had talked to El – and he was glad she had not even once mentioned that she'd told him Neal was innocent – he hadn't worked out a plan yet, and he hadn't slept a lot either.
But Burke knew he had to see Neal and make things right. The agent had never been a coward. Therefore, he didn't look for any excuses to delay the confrontation. Admittedly, he wasn't looking forward to it.
His rudimentary plan was to apologize sincerely, achieve Neal's forgiveness, and then work out the details how to reinstate the consulting deal, and get back to normal. A bit flimsy to pass as a working plan. You might even call it wishful thinking, but it was all he had.
He approached the guard at the visitors' entrance. "Peter Burke to see inmate Neal Caffrey."
The guard checked the computer system. "Sorry Sir, you came for nothing. Caffrey doesn't receive visitors."
"Why not? Did he get into any trouble? Is he in solitary?"
"Nope, computer says he refuses to meet visitors."
"Why would he refuse to see anyone? He must be bored to death inside."
The guard's patience was wearing thin. "Listen, I don't know. There is no written declaration of intent explaining his motivation. It's just a flag at his record in the computer which states he is not receiving visitors. This flag means I won't let you in because there will be no visit."
Peter was annoyed and flashed his FBI badge. "Correct me if I'm mistaken, but I think this flag doesn't apply to FBI agents conducting a criminal investigation. Please open the gate and call for Mr. Caffrey." That did the trick. He was admitted inside.
Peter rose from his chair once Neal was brought to the room. He noticed that his former partner was slightly limping. The man in orange clothes spread his arms and legs so the guard could pat him down.
Neal's hair had been cut short. However, his hairdo wasn't the scaring thing about his appearance. He looked miserable. He'd lost considerable weight and seemed to be nothing but skin and bones. He was wearing a splint at the wrist, and there was a nasty welt at the neck. He seemed disinterested, no sign of enthusiasm at seeing his former handler.
He took a seat across from Peter and placed his hands on the table. He faced the agent, his blue eyes clear and blank.
Burke was the first one to talk. "Neal. How are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you. How are you?" A casual listener would have guessed they were two strangers meeting for the first time.
Peter sighed. This wouldn't be a piece of cake. "I'm feeling awful. I'm here to eat humble pie. OPR has identified two of our agents who were selling out the FBI. We're positive they took the money."
Neal's expression didn't change a bit. "You don't expect me to act surprised? I told you right from the beginning it wasn't me." His answer was brusque. He didn't let out his hurt. [AN: Neal's thoughts in italics over the next paragraphs ...] And I literally begged you to believe me. But you didn't even consider the possibility that I was actually innocent. After all what we'd been through together, you just sent me to rot in prison.
"I know and I'm here to apologize. I should have listened to you, I should have trusted you in the first place. I didn't, and I'm awfully sorry."
For fuck's sake, yes you should have trusted me. Now, I don't care for your apologies any more. Go away.
Neal wanted to end the conversation. "Ok, I was told you're here to investigate a case. I'm not taking social calls. Therefore, let's get to business, so you can leave and I can return to my cell." I can't stand this any longer.
"Why don't you receive any visitors?"
"That's my business. Let's focus on your case." Because it breaks my heart when I see June's or Mozzie's or my Dad's shocked faces upon looking at me. And because it breaks my heart even more when I have to return to my cell alone afterwards.
"There is no case. You are the case. That was a pretext I created to meet you."
"You've met me. Unless you need my statement for another case, let's adjourn the meeting." Yeah, you go back to your cozy home or your spacious FBI office. I will return to the bare walls in my cell.
Peter grew desperate. "It may take two more weeks until OPR closes the case officially. But Neal, we have to start planning how we can reinstate you as consultant."
Neal got up and signaled the guard. "I'm not interested. This is not going to happen." It had been the very first time in my life that I've trusted someone unconditionally. Then you cast me out. That has been devastating. I won't survive another blow like this. At some point, you have to cut your losses.
The FBI agent reached for the prisoner's arm. "You can't stay in here. You already look starved. And what has happened to your leg? You're limping. While we're on it, what about your arm, your neck? Neal, we can work this out, together."
It was the first time the younger man showed some emotion when he replied harshly. "I told you, I'm fine. They feed me 3 meals a day. I fell down the stairs, I got injured, it happens. I get two showers a week, clean clothes and a daily walk in the yard. That's all I need for the next two years. I'm not your headache anymore."
The pain you feel when you're beaten up, your head is bashed against the wall with the guards turning their back, someone kicks your leg with safety boots on, or you've thrown up for the umpteenth time until your stomach revolts with cramps … All that pain, humiliation and fear was nothing compared to being let down by the one and only person in your life you've ever really trusted.
Neal turned towards the guard to be cuffed and walked back to his cell. Peter couldn't hold him back. He was dumbstruck, still sitting at the table without any clue how to clear up this mess long after he was left alone in the visitor's room.
Locked up in his cell, Neal lay down on his bunk. He curled up and started sobbing silently. He was glad that he didn't break down in front of Peter. It has been hard to keep up. But now, he wasn't able to stop crying.
AN:
This was chapter 2. Please don't kill me for the use of italics! I've had no better idea how to mark those lines as Neal's thoughts.
I was overwhelmed by all those reviews and messages I've got regarding the first chapter. You're awesome.
Just to sort things out: no-one will die in the course of the events. OK, maybe some bad guy has to push up daisies, but no WC character. And there will be a happy ending. But until the final chapter, things may not be so happy...