Chapter 6

AN: Thanks to Huntress79 for giving me Neal's correct birthday, March 21, 1977. I have already made the change in Chapter 5. And, as always, thank you, in advance for your reviews and alerts. I may not be able to reply to your reviews for this story. I cannot get my reviews to show. If anyone has a solution, please PM me. JL

"Who is this?" Bobby demanded.

"I'm…." Neal faltered. This was not Neal's normal operating procedure. But he had a feeling that Bobby would not fall for the smooth talking persona Neal usually used. He felt very vulnerable without his mask to hide behind.

"Speak up, Son!" Bobby said, normally he would have hung up by now. But something was telling him to hold on. "How did you get this phone?" His display said it was Dean's phone. But this was not Dean Winchester.

"I'm…Dean's in prison, so is Sam." Neal started. He decided he had better just get it all out and then deal with whatever happened. "After they recovered Dean was sent to Missouri. Sam's in Texas. They…."

"What? Prison? What are they recovering from?" Bobby demanded. This just sounded worse and worse by the minute.

Neal took a deep breath. "I'm Neal Caffrey. Sam and Dean are good friends. I've known them for years. We met going after the same object. I wanted to steal it and sell it. They wanted to destroy it. But then a guard showed up and neither of us got it."

Bobby shook his head and made a face as Neal continued to tell his story.

"Anyway, Sam and Dean tried to help a friend in trouble. Her store was being robbed." Neal paused. "They were both shot in the chest. They were guarded 24/7 by U.S Marshals, in the hospital, until they got well enough to travel. They are now in federal prison."

Bobby was beyond words. He picked up a bottle of whiskey and flung it across the room. He was worried, terribly, about the two young men he had come to consider his sons. And another part of him wanted to kick their asses for being idgits.

"Idgits! Idgits! Idgits! When I get a hold of them I'm gonna…!" Bobby mumbled.

Neal was not sure if Bobby was talking to him or not. But he was not going to ask. He just waited patiently. And he thought he had heard something smash. It sounded like glass, but he wasn't sure.

Bobby managed to calm himself after taking some deep breaths. He talked to himself, out loud. "The idgits are involved with the feds now, the actual honest-to-god feds. I just can't…." He said, shaking his head. Then he realized that Neal was on the other end of the phone, waiting for him to speak. "You're working with the Feds. But you called me to help the FBIs Most Wanted?" Bobby inquired. He had to see what this guy was all about before he trusted a word he said.

"I am a conman, Mr. Singer. I have been conning people since I was about 9 years old. I am working with the FBI to avoid prison." Neal admitted it all. He knew what Bobby was trying to do, and he knew he had to spell it all out for Bobby to get onboard. "I have forged multimillion dollar bonds and paintings by famous artists, and I've stolen priceless artwork. I'm a white collar criminal. Sam and Dean are hunters. I know a little of what they do, Mr. Singer. And, to be honest, their world, their lives, it scares the hell out of me." He admitted. "But, they are probably some of the most genuine people I know." He paused. "Even though Dean is a gigantic pain in the ass sometimes, and Sam is too nice for his own good." Neal's voice cracked. "I was there when they got shot. I have nightmares every night. I hear the gunshots, and I see the blood. And it's all fresh again. They've done the bad things. We all have. But they don't deserve federal prison. They don't deserve that. What they do, it helps people." He was winding down now. Neal had said about all he could. He just hoped it was enough.

Bobby was a little flabbergasted. He appreciated the man's honesty. And he could tell Neal really cared about Sam and Dean.

"How did you know to call me?" Bobby asked.

"Sam and Dean talk about you a lot. You're their Uncle Bobby. They say you practically raised them. They said their dad left them with you, a lot, when they were kids." Neal paused, he sighed. He had no idea if he was convincing Bobby or not. "I get your reluctance to trust me. But Dean is in St. Louis, Missouri, and Sam is in Austin, Texas. You can check that out easily enough. You can even talk to my handler if you want. He's Special Agent Peter Burke with the New York White Collar Division. I'll give you his office number. Agent Burke will vouch for both Sam and Dean. The robbery they interrupted happened in Elisabeth Burke's store. She's my handler's wife."

Bobby was truly speechless for a few minutes. "Mr. Caffrey…."

"Neal." Neal stated.

"Neal, you can call me Bobby. I…."

"Look Bobby, I understand. But Sam and Dean need help. I can't leave New York. Like I said, I'm on a very short leash. I don't know if there is anything that can be done for them. I just know that if the source of there help is out of New York, I'm gonna be blamed. And I'm going back to prison. But if something happens to them while they're in prison, after everything that's already happened..." Neal paused and Bobby could practically hear his guilt. "... and after what they did to help Elisabeth. I couldn't live with myself."

"What did they do?" Bobby was pretty convinced. But now he wanted the whole story.

"Elisabeth, we call her El, sent a text message to me that should have gone to her husband. Sam and Dean were with me when I got it. I called Peter, and told him what was going on." Neal paused. "I did try to discourage them. But, well…I'm sure you know what that's like."

Bobby knew alright, Neal heard him groan on the other end of the line.

"We got there; I went in the front to act as a decoy while Sam got her employees out. Dean went out front to take care of the thief. He placed himself between El and the robber. Then things went sideways."

"Yeah," Bobby sighed. "Things always seem to do that for the boys."

"Yeah well, an off-duty cop heard Dean yelling. He had come out of the store next door. He called for backup. When the NYPD got there, they recognized Sam and Dean. And…." Neal knew he didn't have to say any more. He couldn't bring himself to repeat it, anyway. It was still too fresh, too raw for him.

Bobby had not heard from the boys, so he had no idea where they were. It nearly killed him to hear that they had been shot And he never imagined that they would be in prison. He wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure what he could do. But he did believe that this 'Neal Caffrey' person was trying to help.

"I have some things that could help Sam and Dean. I sent Dean a post card, telling him where these things are."

"What kinds of things are we talking about here?" Bobby asked.

"Things with a lot of…power." Neal replied. "There are swords from the Crusades, bayonets from The Civil War, and several items that the Russians supposedly plundered during WWII. Just touching them, there's a vibe, energy."

"Why didn't you just sell this stuff and get your money?" Bobby asked. It seemed strange for all this historically and monetarily valuable stuff to just be sitting in a storage locker, collecting dust.

"Agent Burke caught me." Neal admitted. "Plus, I needed it for a little added security."

"And you're giving things that could be worth millions of dollars to Sam and Dean?" Bobby couldn't understand what Neal was doing this for, really.

Neal shrugged. "They need it more than I do."

TBC