Disclaimer: Do not own White Collar or the characters.
Author's Note: Uhh this might contain some adult ideas, though nothing graphic. You've been warned.
Peter walked through the doors of the FBI Office and went straight to the coffee corner. He needed his fuel to gear him up for the day. Reaching his office he gave the double finger point to Diana who was anyway coming upstairs. "Any sightings of Caffery?" he asked, already knowing by the look on her face that there was nothing. "Alright, I need you to tell everyone that I'm calling a meeting in 5 minutes. I want to see every agent on this floor in the conference room." He instructed her before switching on his computer and sorting his inbox. Who knew, maybe the kid had enough guts to send him an E-mail, what with all the importance he put on anniversaries and birthdays…
"OK, finding Caffery is our top most priority right now. I want every agent in this room on his tail." Peter geared up the huge crowd inside the conference room as soon as he walked in.
"Jones, I need a detailed account of Caffery's life in prison for the last three months. Every single detail, from what he ate to what mess he got himself into, I want everything on him.
"Diana, you go and talk to the guards and inmates. I want to know all that happened behind those bars discreetly enough to not be put on the records. If you think anyone is holding back on something, especially the guards, arrest them immediately.
"Smith and Cruz, both of you are to be stationed outside Neal's old apartment throughout. Maybe he'll return to get something.
"The rest of you will be on alert for any calls indicating that Caffery has been sighted anywhere. Also be on the lookout for anyone using the aliases Neal had. Come on everyone, move it. I need this man in cuffs and behind bars by the end of the day."
As Jones walked out of the office and pressed the button for the elevator, Diana caught up with him. "On your way to prison? Good I'll come with you."
"Boss is really serious about catching this guy isn't he?" Jones asked once both of them were alone in the elevator.
"Well he did cause Peter three years of his life. It's like he owes it to Caffery." Diana reasoned, smiling at the memory of Peter letting a 'Neal' slip instead of the usual 'Caffery'
Taking a sip of the brown sludge that passed as coffee in the office, Peter grimaced and set down the cup. He rubbed his eyes mechanically while squinting to make out the post it notes written in his own untidy writing in Caffery's file almost 5 years ago. Calling this huge mountain of papers a 'file' seemed to strike him as an understatement. But there had to be something that he had missed all those years ago. Something hidden deep within the stack of photos, receipts, eye witness accounts and victim's statements. He just had to look hard enough.
His phone buzzed and he thankfully flipped his open, hoping against all hope that they had a lead. "Diana, tell me you have something for me."
"Hey Boss, I went and interviewed all the inmates who knew Caffery and guess what? One of them let it slip that Caffery had barely managed to escape a huge brawl the previous week. Three of the most dangerous prisoners had ganged up against him and it had only been a lot of sweet talking which had let Caffery get away from the beating of his lifetime."
Peter perked up instantly. "And what did the guards have to say?"
Diana smiled. She had known that that would be the first question on her senior agent's mind. "Most of them denied any knowledge of any such incident. But when I made it clear that I already know who was involved and what had happened, they turned pretty defensive, giving me a lot of BS on how each man must carter for himself in here and how they can't to be held responsible if Caffery got himself into a tight spot every now and then."
"Good work Diana. Are you OK, you sound tired?" Peter asked, finally noting the worked out tone of his probie.
"Peter I don't think I'll be able to come back to the office today. I just got a call from Christie's number. She has been in an accident."
"I'm so sorry!" Peter sympathized hating himself for not asking earlier. "It's completely fine. Take the rest of the day off and keep me updated on her condition alright?"
"Will do boss, thanks." Diana replied before ending the call, probably on her way to the hospital already.
Peter snapped his phone shut just as Jones walked through the glass doors of the office and started making his way to Peter's Office. "Jones what have you got?" Peter quickly ushered him inside.
"I got all the surveillance tapes from all the cameras for the past four months. Also there are guard's reports on Caffery's behavior and a list of all the people who ever visit him in the years that he was there." Jones replied handing Peter a three files, along with a stack of papers.
Peter held out a hand for the offered documents when a tape fell out of the pile. "Oh and that is Caffery's medical examination tape." Jones clarified in answer to Peter's questioning glance.
"Medical examination? Why would they make a tape of that?" Peter was confused. Normally only written records were kept on patient's health.
"They are only for the past week, sir. A new doctor had been recruited as a replacement for the old one and his first few patients were taped so as to observe the doctor's methods."
"And Caffery was among these patients?" Peter inquired.
"Yes sir. He had a meeting with the doctor three days before he escaped. Had another one scheduled for today."
"Good work Jones. I'll look at the surveillance footage to detect some evidence of a brawl that Diana told me Caffery only nearly escaped. You go through the guard's reports and see if you come up with any behavioral oddities in this past two weeks." Peter had already inserted the disk into his computer by the time Jones turned around to head back to his desk.
Peter honked at the car in front of him out of sheer exasperation, glaring at the GPS monitor which showed him that there was a road black ahead because of some protestors group putting up some god forsaken demonstration. He had been on his way home, intending to watch the rest of the footage there while taking care of Satchmo. El's mother had broken her knee and she would be with her at the hospital for the rest of the night. Though he pitied the poor old lady for having to go through that much pain at such an old age, the prospect of coming back to an empty home did not improve his mood. And this blasted road block wasn't helping things either. He should have been at the office going through evidence, not sitting in his car with nothing to do but wait.
An idea struck him as he gazed forlornly at the huge stack of papers which was Neal's life sitting in the passenger seat. Maybe he could get some work done after all, he thought remembering the tape Jones had handed in with the files and rummaging through the stack till he found it. He inserted it in the player and setting the volume on high set back in his seat, finally content on getting some work done, however minor, which would help him catch that blasted kid, instead of just sitting and swearing in his car.
There wasn't any video and the audio itself wasn't very clear. But Peter sat up straight when he heard Neal's Inmate Number being announced. The sound of a metal door opening could be discerned followed by some shuffling.
"Name and age?" A grim voice asked, presumably the doctor.
"Neal Caffery, 22", Neal's voice sounded wary.
"Alright, it's time for your medical evaluation. Lose all your clothes and bend over." Peter started at the odd command. A medical exam did include the removal of clothes, but bending over? Apparently Neal seemed to be surprised as well.
"Is that really necessary?" His tone had become hard and defensive.
"I'll show you what is necessary." The doctor's voice had raised several notches in volume. "Guards, help this worthless excuse of a human being out of his clothes!"
Peter gripped the steering wheel tightly as after a lot of shuffling a bang was heard. "Right, now hold him like that. And hold his legs open for me." The doctor seemed to be satisfied with whatever had taken place.
"Please stop! You're hurting me!" Neal's voice was weak and muffled.
"Should 'ave thought of that earlier, sucker... This here is a real pretty bitch, ain't he?" a third scruffy voice whom Peter assumed to be the guard said, followed by guffaws all around.
Peter held his breathe and stared at the car in front of him mechanically as the sound of Neal moaning and pleading to be let go and his captors making fun of him and doing god knows what to him played around him. By the time the tape ended, it was clear from the increasing protests on Neal's part and the guard's comments that what had occurred was much more humiliating and degrading than a simple medical exam should ever be. Neal had been sexually violated in prison. Peter took in ragged breathes as the memory of Neal's helpless pleas sounded in his ears. He was gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. His eyes had the enraged look of a man whose son had just been taken advantage of and he hadn't been able to do anything other than look on helplessly.
This was his fault. Of course Neal ran. Neal, from whom his self-respect and integrity, his most prized qualities, had been ripped away from in the confines of the dark prison; a prison which Peter had sent him to. It was all his fault. He should have known something like this would happen. Neal was never a fighter, he was too much of a pacifist to ever be able to hold his own in prison. And that too Super- Max: where all the dangerous killers and rapists were sent to reform. God knows what the poor boy must have gone through... what he must be going through.
Peter jerked upright from his mental desperation with that thought. Neal had been hurt. His individuality had been threatened. He wouldn't be able to bear that. Peter fervently prayed to anyone who might be listening up there to let Neal be strong. If the kid took his own life because of what had happened to him in prison, because of what Peter had put him through; Peter would never be able to live with himself.
'Where are you, son? Please wherever you are, just sit tight. I'll find you.' Peter vowed to himself, his resolution strengthened ten times not because Neal was a runaway fugitive who needed to be caught and imprisoned, but because Neal was out there, alone and hurting, and he, Peter Burke had caused that to happen.
The road in front of him cleared and Peter stepped on the pedal, a single thought running in his head. If Neal was alive, which he had to pray for his own sanity that he was, then he would have taken refuge at the place where he had last found love from. Where he had found Kate and where Peter had found him.
The Ford's tyres screeched as Peter made a U-turn heading straight for the warehouse, praying and hoping that his hunch was right.
Tell me how that was people. This is my first time writing instead of simply reading for this fandom, so any feedback on my writing would be cherished and appreciated.