Two weeks later.
It's Peter's first day back at the Bureau and he wishes, not for the first time, that his office walls weren't made of glass. He can feel their concerned glances and pitiful looks.
During the last few days Peter longed for normalcy. He needed structure and something useful to do. Coming back to the office and reassuming his daily routine seemed like a step in the right direction.
Elizabeth disagreed, arguing he was not ready "to face the outside world", because "it isn't that easy to go back to business".
He realized too late how right El's apprehensions were.
How do you reassume your routine, when a crucial part of it is missing?
Peter was already at June's house this morning by the time he remembered that he didn't need to pick up Neal. Ever again. He cannot recall how he made it to the office after that.
He takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces; today the stuff tastes even worse than usual. Peter frowns. That seems to be some kind of pattern lately. Everything is worse. The traffic, the gas prices, the rate of unemployment, the global warming...
A knock on his door interrupts his nonsensical musings and causes him to look up from the mug in his hands.
It's Rodolphus Doyle, his new colleague and very own personal watchdog.
Peter groans inwardly. Great. A compliance visit is just what he needs right now.
"Agent Doyle, what can I do for you?"
The weathered agent gives Peter a worried once-over, "I wanted to see how you were doing."
"I'm fine," Peter replies tersely.
"You need to see a counselor nonetheless. A psychological evaluation is required-"
"I know," Peter cuts him of. "I already made an appointment."
Doyle's expression hardens. "All right. I'll leave you to your work," he hesitates a moment, "But Agent Burke? You concentrate on your area of responsibility. Let NYPD and Violent Crimes handle the rest."
Peter tenses up. The rest. Also known as case file NYC2013-250391, Homicide, Neal George Caffrey.
"Yes, sir," he replies stiffly.
After one last pointed look Doyle leaves Peter alone with his thoughts.
Peter sighs and rubs his hand across his face. Is this day ever going to end?
His mood darkens even more, when his eyes drift down to the bullpen. Neal's vacant desk has been in his direct line of sight all day, a glaring reminder of the young man's absence.
It looks exactly like Neal left it, as though he could come back any minute, bringing muffins and fresh coffee. As though nothing has happened.
Peter can't stand it.
He waits till the end of the day to empty the drawers and place Neal's personal items into an empty box. The rubber band ball, the little bust, the pens Neal lifted from just about everywhere and everyone, a team picture, his origami paper, his sketch-pad and finally his tie collection. After a couple of minutes the desk is empty and every trace of Neal is gone. Like he has never been here.
Peter closes the carton and slumps down into Neal's chair.
He stares at the box, contemplating what to do with it. He feels torn.
He doesn't want to remember, because every memory hurts like a punch in the gut.
He doesn't want to forget either, because Neal deserves to be remembered.
Only a few agents are left to watch him as he communes with his heart. Diana is one of them. She walks over and sits down on the edge of the table.
"Hey Boss."
"Diana."
"What are you gonna do with... this?" Her gaze is focused on the box with Neal's belongings.
Peter sighs. "I don't know."
Diana nods slowly and Peter notices the wistful look on her face. Suddenly, he knows exactly what to do. He opens the lid again, fishes the bust out of the carton and hands it Diana. The female agent looks baffled.
"Neal would want you to have it. To inspire your wisdom or something like that."
A small smile plays on Diana's lips as she returns to her desk and positions the little sculpture right next to a picture of Theo.
Peter then knows he did the right thing. This way a part of Neal will still be here with them, but not in the form of a shrine. He moves through the bullpen and places selected items on the desks of his team.
The photograph, the sketch-pad and the tie collection, however, remain tucked away in the box.
Peter knows exactly, what his next stop will be.
June sits on her couch with the little pug by her side.
"Good evening, Peter. Please take a seat," she greets him. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
He clears his throat, "I'm sorry to bother you, but today...I...," he pulls out the ties. "I thought you might want to have them back."
She blinks a couple of times and smoothes out the wrinkles of her black skirt. "That is very thoughtful of you. Thank you."
An awkward silence ensues. Peter shifts uncomfortably.
"Would you mind if I...?" he gestures towards the stairs.
"No, of course not," her sad eyes meet his. The last two weeks have taken a toll on her as well. "Take all the time you need."
Peter gives her a grateful smile.
The way upstairs takes him longer than usual. The last two weeks are catching up with him.
He pauses in the doorway and takes in the studio. Time stands still in here. Just like Neal's desk, the apartment remained untouched. There's an unfinished painting sitting on the easel, an open book on the bedside table, a towel thrown over the back of a chair...
Yet it's cold and empty.
The most important entity is missing.
A very tiny, very irrational part of Peter is disappointed. He knew, Neal wouldn't be here. Hell, he identified the body! But still... Seeing Neal's apartment without him in it feels like he's dying all over again.
Does that even make sense?
Peter takes a bottle from Neal's wine collection, pours himself a glass and walks onto the balcony. Memories threaten to overwhelm him, as he enjoys the breathtaking view for what will probably the last time. The first days of their partnership, the music box, Kate, Fowler, Keller, Adler, the treasure, Kramer, James, Hagen, Rebecca... Everything that has happened during the last few years flickers through his mind like a movie. They have been through so much together... Neal became part of his life, his family.
What is he going to do without him?