(Chapter 7)
Everything was blackness, his mind blank but he was aware of the fact even if he could do little about it.
It's been a week. The doctor said…
Hun… we have to be patient.
There were voices speaking softly in the background, beyond the darkness but he couldn't respond. He was trying to remember what had brought him here much more, why he was wherever here was.
He pushed me out of the way of the blast. I told him to stay in the car but he never listens...
The voice speaking now was angry, hurt and sad, the emotions coming out more menacing than the voice normally sounded or so his mind told him. He wondered who they were talking about as he continued to listen passively, no sense of self in this dark place.
Don't think about it. It's over. You're both safe. That's all that matters. Just concentrate on Neal, Peter. He needs you. For once I'm glad he didn't listen to you.
Neal? Peter?
He tried to think how he knew these names, recognition evident as he felt himself starting to come to. There was something in those names that sparked a light in the darkness. It was distant now but growing brighter as he concentrated on the names.
He was Neal. Neal Caffrey.
The thought materialized making the light blink slightly as he started to mull the name more.
He was a renown artist. No. He was.. a criminal. An infamous con man.
If he could nod, he would have, the light blinking in response as if to nod for him. He was remembering now. It was starting to come back to him as the light grew large enough to envelope him.
He was Neal Caffrey, con man and CI. His partner was Peter Burke, FBI. The dream he'd had about another life was fading and a memory of fire and smoke replaced it as he started to draw consciousness…
()()()
"Hey buddy."
The voice made him turn, his eyes having been staring out the partially opened window to his right. Now he was gazing into two honest brown eyes, a slightly dark ring around them as if they were lacking sleep. He could only imagine what his friend was thinking as he smiled tiredly back. Peter seemed to relax once he had, taking a seat beside him on the left and gently patting him on the shoulder. Neal shifted slightly, the aches of his body now more evident but it was better than the alternative. His memories were still fuzzy confused between dreams and reality as he gazed at his friend then up at the ceiling.
"Renoir for your thoughts?"
Peter's words brought his eyes back to his friend's face, the look there obviously worried with unsaid questions and comments the agent was holding back for obvious reasons. Neal remembered the voices talking and realized what it might be Peter wanted to ask, or even yell at him about, but right now was not the time and for reasons, he probably wouldn't tell him. Peter was like that. They both were.
"Real or fake?"
He gave a wry grin, seeing a smile on the agent's face. For the first time he noticed his friend had one arm in a sling under his jacket and he looked haggard. They were both a sight to see he imagined as his memories of what really happened returned. He'd had time to think things through since he'd woken up from his sleep, but not everything had come back to him yet.
"For now, you'll have to settle for fake. So… how are you feeling? Doctors said you woke up sooner than they expected. Glad they finally allowed visitors so I could be sure you're ok."
The agent was mincing words, his expression one of walking on eggshells when he didn't normally do that. Perhaps it was because of the reason why they were both alive. Neal heard their words while he was unconscious and it was hard to reconcile with what he remembered. Had he really saved Peter? He seemed to remember it being the other way around but there was no gunshot wound and he hadn't seen or heard from his Alex in over a year. In that case it left only one choice for him to believe as he replied.
"I've felt better. I seem to recall… being in the car and you phoned me? I wouldn't have showed up otherwise."
()()()
Now he was remembering why he had gone to the warehouse. Peter went to talk to a witness, one afraid to testify against the Tartino family. Mario Tartino had put a hit on Greg Dawson and he had tried to take care of it himself until Peter had showed up unexpectedly. Neal had waited in the car for once, thinking it would be a simple chat. Normally he would go with Peter but today he had conceded to stay until that moment he felt his cell phone buzz in his jacket pocket. It was Peter. Maybe the agent wanted him along after all?
"What's taking so long Peter? Peter?"
The agent was calling him but now he realized maybe the phone had turned on accidentally as he heard voices at a distance speaking.
"You shouldn't be here, Agent Burke. I'm taking care of this myself, once and for all. I'm expecting Mario's men here any moment."
Neal listened in horror as he realized what was going on, ready to get out of the car when he ducked down seeing another vehicle drive up. He peeked up only long enough to see that it was Mario's men.
"Peter? Peter can you hear me? Peter?!"
Dammit! He had to warn Peter but apparently the agent hadn't meant to call or couldn't reply or he would be answering back. With the mobsters outside only a few yards away, he was going to have to be creative, looking around for another way out as he quietly exited the vehicle. Neal slipped around the back and then loped along the edge of the warehouse. He found a loose board at some point and slipped inside, hearing voices not too far off as they echoed off the old beams and dusty structure.
This isn't you, Dawson. Please… we can discuss this. I have people who can protect you and put you in hiding.
Peter's voice was evident as he came up from behind some old boxes and peered around to see the agent from behind and a short dark haired man just beyond staring up at him. The little guy was Greg Dawson, a local store owner who'd had enough of helping the mob against his will. He'd been threatened, as had his family, when he attempted to quit. Dawson had been more than willing to help the authorities until his family died in a freak car accident a few weeks ago. It was reported as a normal fatality but he was certain Mario had his men mess with the brakes causing their deaths. Anger and grief made their witness run away from the FBI offices, an APB looking for him, but Peter had found him, trying to convince him to testify. Dawson didn't want to comply.
Look what trying to do the right thing did: My family is dead, Agent Burke! I don't blame you for what happened but you have to understand my situation. I suggest you leave now.
Neal was watching, about to approach but something about the agent's manner made him think something else was going on as he moved around for a better perspective. He shifted left of the boxes as quietly as he could in the gloom before he saw it. Now he could understand Peter's hands being up but it wasn't due to a gun but something far more sinister. Dawson was wearing a full body explosive pack like a suicide bomber, his right hand holding the dead man switch tightly. If Mario's men came in now they would all be dead.
Watching the scene, he was reminded of his own attempt to get rid of Agent Fowler to revenge Kate's death. Peter had managed to calm him down, convince him to do the right thing but this man was far beyond any help. That's when he made his decision and slowly came out into the open. Dawson's eyes went from the agent to Neal, his trigger finger twitching. Peter slowly turned, seeing him, brown eyes shocked one moment, angry only a second before motioning him away, fear evident. He shook his head unable to leave his friend with this maniac alone. Perhaps he could convince him.
"You think you're the only person who's lost someone? I was in your situation once and Peter talked me out of the biggest mistake I would have made in my life. Someone blew up the person I loved."
Neal paused, seeing he had Greg's sympathy. Maybe he could talk him out of killing himself. He had to try for Peter's sake.
"Revenge isn't the answer, Greg. You don't want to take innocent lives like your wife and son. Peter's here to help and so am I. Mario's men are outside. We can all get out of here without them knowing. Trust us."
He was hoping to convince the man to at least disarm the device and go with them but voices near the right of the building made the man more jumpy.
"No, he can't get away with this! If I have to I will take his men with me but you don't have to stay. Go. You can't convince me to stop this!"
Peter looked like he was still debating, his conscience not wanting to let an innocent man kill himself for something he thought he could fix and that was about to get them all dead if Neal couldn't get him to leave. He reached out for Peter's arm, brown eyes meeting his with a palpable fear.
"Why are you here Neal? I told you to stay in the car…"
The agent was hissing at him like a father to an errant child, frustration evident as he looked back at Dawson and then over to the right where the large door was rattling as several men tried to open it up. They had little time to get away with one man trying to blow himself up and armed hit men trying to break inside. If he could just get Peter to go...
"You phoned me…"
He pulled the phone out of his friend's back pocket and Peter blinked seeing it was actively in the middle of call to Neal Caffrey. He hung it up, pushing it into his jacket as his attention went back to their witness.
Neal kept his hand protectively on Peter's sleeve, about to speak when he noticed something odd. The bomb Dawson wore looked wrong. The explosives upon further inspection were lumps of art clay, a brand sold cheaply at any hobby store. The bomb was a fake! It was all so obvious now that he had a moment to think things through. Neal had to let Peter know, tugging on his sleeve for the agent's attention when he noticed how Greg was watching the front door. Peter was looking at him now, a quizzical look on his face as the con suddenly realized their mistake in believing Dawson's story. Their witness was not armed as they thought but the warehouse entrance definitely was, small LED's blinking in succession one by one as the door started to open. He only had a moment to act as he moved between Peter and the door and pushed him towards the boxes he had been hiding behind earlier. It wasn't enough time though as the blast tore through the building obliterating his view of Dawson, the mobsters and anything else as they were buried beneath steel beams and shattered remains of boxes.
Slowly his thoughts came back to the present, Peter staring at him thoughtfully as his cheeks seemed to flush pink. Maybe he was thinking about the incident as well.
"I did phone you didn't I… well my pocket did. Probably a good thing you didn't go in the front entrance. How did you get into the warehouse, Neal? You never did tell me and Jones said the only entrance inside was the one Mario's men used. We've been trying to reconcile the facts with the figures. There's not much building left to find."
He seemed to be relaxing a bit, less afraid to talk about what happened as Neal shifted slightly to sit up, Peter helping him. Once he was comfortable he reached over with his good hand and grabbed a small cup of water on the nightstand. His throat felt dry and rough although that might be after effects of the blast and his week asleep. Peter was patient, helping him with the cup when he couldn't get it back.
"There was a loose board around the back of the building. I saw Mario's men coming around the right and since you butt dialed me, I had to try to be creative in warning you what was coming."
He watched his friend smirk at him slightly, leaning back in the chair and nodding. Peter gave a sigh, a sound that seemed to sum up everything they had gone through in one breath, no words necessary. It had been a traumatic experience to say the least.
"Dawson lied to us you know. Forensics came back…"
Peter was about to say more but Neal interrupted.
"He wasn't really armed. I couldn't see it at first but maybe it was the adrenaline from thinking about my life and how to get out alive that showed me the truth. I saw the lights by the entrance Mario's men were battering down. His suit was a decoy in case they got in another way I guess. Maybe he knew about the loose board."
Neal had barely spoken when Peter sat up straight and stared right at him with a curious glance before giving a tired but honest laugh.
"So that's why you pushed me towards the boxes. I couldn't understand your logic at the time but I'm glad you saw through his ruse. The bomb squad said those boxes are the only things that kept us alive. They found us under several layers of palettes protected from the worse of the blast."
Peter mussed his hair slightly, Neal putting up with it as he sighed and smiled patiently back. The agent was giving him a look, one that he had seen only a few times before when his friend was surprised by his ingenuity. He liked knowing he could be smarter than the other guy but in this case it had been a case of survival. He didn't require any credit when he had done it without thought for himself.
"Now, you said your life flashed before your eyes. I can't say I didn't have some last minute thoughts. What did you see and would I approve?"
Now he was trying to lighten the mood, Neal glad for the change in conversation as he tried to think back to right before he came to. Only a few flashes of insight came back to him, one making his heart ache ever so slightly but he faked a smile and shrugged.
"Nothing actually. Just the usual. Past heists I wish I'd done better or things I stole that I wish I had kept instead of selling…"
He smirked as he saw the look on his friend's face followed by a fatherly sigh. Maybe he knew Neal was pulling his leg, but it was hard to tell as the agent shook his head, stood and stretched.
"Fine… don't tell me. Anyhow, El's probably back and I promised I'd meet her for lunch. She wanted to bring you some items from June's so you'll see us later today. The doctors have our number if you need anything. They said you're doing well enough you might be out of here in a week."
There was a curious look on Peter's face but then it passed and he smiled a bit more broadly.
"FYI, Mozzie stayed with El while they were digging us out. She said he kept her sane. She knows more than she ever wanted on conspiracies thanks to him but it helped her. I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet but if you see him tell him thanks for me."
Peter patted him on the arm gently before leaving the room, the con alone for the first time in a while since he woke up. This had been the first day he had been allowed visitors since waking up. Now that he had been able to talk to Peter, he felt better. It had been 3 days since he woke up and now he was considered in the safe zone, the only people he had seen were doctors and nurses. They were nice but seeing Peter had helped his morale and reminded him of the strange dreams he's had while unconscious. The images were vague at best but he was certain his friend had been there.
()()()
Just over a week passed and Neal was back home, Mozzie and June treating him like something that might break. He finally got up to his room despite all their pampering. He was still hurting, so he took his pain pills with a large glass of water while Moz casually sipped some wine. They started chatting, Neal mentioning what Peter said about El.
"So the Suit wanted to thank me for being with Elizabeth?"
Mozzie seemed surprised but it was obvious he had been worried about them just as much as El. It was hard for his friend to speak his mind when it came to emotional stuff but he was getting better.
"Yes. Thanks. Theo…"
It had just came out that way but for some reason it felt right suddenly, an image of his friend looking different but the same, the con replaced with a more respectable version he had never seen before. Mozzie seemed surprised, blinking back at him over his glass of wine.
"Theo? Since when do you call me that? Are you sure that hit to your head is better?"
Mozzie started pontificating on head injuries and traumas but all Neal wanted was to lay down and rest. June had promised to bring him something to eat later, the con scratching at his arm in the sling as he lay on his bed and started to close his eyes. Mozzie was still talking as he felt the meds kick in and his body became relaxed, his mind easing into the fantasy he had left a week before.
Neal was stepping off the elevator onto the first floor of the Chrysler building, his eyes scanning the gala crowd for a certain someone. Suddenly he saw a red dress, the figure svelte and beautiful as she turned and their eyes met.
"Neal… I was starting to worry you weren't coming back."
She was teasing him of course but something in those words made his heart ache. Perhaps it was just a dream but he had unfinished business before he could let it go.
"Dance with me?"
He pulled her close, their hips touching as he eased her out into a small crowd of dancing couples. The band was playing a song they both liked, something old but updated to a more jazzy beat. Sara was smiling at him, giving him a look that made him think she knew what he wanted to ask.
"You seem… different. Tell me what's on your mind, Neal."
They continued to dance as he glanced quickly around the room. Peter and Jill were at one end but now she was standing beside another man, the CPA talking to Elizabeth at the caterer's table. The story had changed now that he was more aware of the narrative. The only thing that hadn't changed was Theo and Sally. They were off in a corner kissing, a slight flush of his cheeks as he smiled at the thought of his friend settled down and happy. Sara's hand gently grasped his chin, looking at him as their eyes met with an inquisitive glance.
"I was thinking… why wait for the holidays? Let's get married now. After the event."
It was a bold statement and he saw how much it caught her off guard, the flush now on her cheeks as he grinned. Sara looked surprised but mostly happy.
"Now? Tonight?"
They were whispering, his head nodding back at her with his own wide grin.
"Yes… we can drive down to Virginia. Theo and Sally could be witnesses…"
He had it all planned out, the two of them going for their honeymoon early and then doing the official wedding and reception later. Everyone would understand. Sara hesitated only a second but finally nodded in return.
"Yes… my family will understand. We are still having a wedding, right?"
She was laughing now, giddy with joy as he picked her up just enough to swing her around.
"Of course. So… Ms. Ellis… will you be my wife?"
()()()
He woke up a few hours later to silence, broken only by a soft snore of someone nearby as he wiped a warm wetness from his eyes. He saw Mozzie had passed out on the couch, the glass of wine on the coffee table. The light outside was lower in the sky indicating late afternoon as he sat up and stretched, slipping his feet over the side of the bed and padding softly past his sleeping friend and the kitchenette into a side door and hallway. Neal pulled out a box from one of the shelves in his closet, opening it up with a smile as he took a single picture from within. It was one of his favorites, a shot of Sara and himself at the Empire State building. He pushed aside any thoughts of James, Senator Pratt and all over negative memories from that time and only concentrated on how he'd felt with her. He had proposed, mainly a ruse to get them up to the top level but also to let Sara know how he felt. For a very long time he had given up on getting close to anyone and she had been the first woman he'd ever gotten close to proposing to after Kate's death. He had meant every word, both of them knowing it would never be but he had to try.
"Neal?"
Mozzie was standing outside the closet door, watching him silently as he put the box aside and took the picture with him. They didn't speak as the little guy followed, Neal deep in thought as he placed the picture on the dining table and moved to the sink to pour himself a glass of water. He took one sip and realized he needed something stronger, Mozzie already anticipating his thoughts it seemed as he passed him a glass of wine. Neal leaned against the sink, eyes on his glass, his face thoughtful.
"I was just thinking. What if… we weren't con men?"
Neal left the words floating in the silence a moment, Mozzie giving him a quizzical look before replying.
"Not con men? Inconceivable… well to me at least. So what would we be?"
Now he was asking all the right questions, Neal smiling as he looked at the picture and remembered his dream. Mozzie seemed to be seriously considering the idea. There might be hope for them yet.
"I probably would have been an artist not that I don't like conning but creating things would be fun."
He looked at his friend, Mozzie giving him a nod as he leaned on a chair and sipped his wine.
"I would have liked to stay with Mr. Jeffries… maybe help out with the orphanage. I'm good with numbers and getting funds."
The little guy was smiling now, Neal returning it as he sipped his own glass and sighed.
"I know you say, marriage and picket fences aren't for guys like us but do you ever think… well, maybe you might have liked to settle down with Sally. You two seemed to have something going on there before we left for Cape Verde."
Maybe he was pushing it, Mozzie's expression at first shocked then toned down as he shrugged and gave a half nod. He knew his friend was lonely even if he never said it.
"I do still technically have her number up here."
He pointed at his temple with one finger tapping it lightly before he walked away as if deep in thought. Neal waited, knowing his friend was about to say more.
"I do keep up with her on IRC when I can and sometimes… I have met her a few times for coffee. What? She keeps me up to date on the hacker side of things. No personal entanglements."
This surprised Neal, the look of someone who was glad to have the secret out on Mozzie's face even if he was denying it. He saw Mozzie in a new light even if it was based off an alternative life they never lived. It had felt… real. Right about then his cell buzzed, Neal walking over towards the nightstand where he'd left it. He blinked when he saw the name on his caller ID.
"Hello?"
His tone must have shown more than he meant to, Mozzie turning to look at him curiously as he waited for the caller to reply.
"Neal? Can you hear me? I… (Thank you… yes, 5 PM) Sorry… I'm at the airport. Heathrow. How are you?"
He was surprised to hear her voice after so many months, nothing changed in it except a tiredness he didn't remember hearing before. He sat on the edge of his bed as he replied.
"Sara? Yes, I can hear you just fine. Heathrow? After another art thief? I thought what we had was special."
He said the last part facetiously, the sound of her laughter ringing back as he smiled and relaxed. Mozzie was still watching him curiously, mouthing "Who is that?" at him. Neal held up a hand for him to leave him alone, the little guy continuing to listen in from a distance.
"We'll always have St George, Neal but that's not what I was calling about. I'm… (Yes… of course.) We're boarding and I need to hang up but I wanted to let you know… I'm going to be in New York for Christmas."
Neal was smiling now, nodding back as he thought of how to reply back. They had left on good terms, knowing they couldn't reconcile certain aspects for the others. He would always be a con and Sara's sense of right and wrong made it hard for her to deal with that. He could never blame Mozzie and the treasure completely for what had happened between them. It had been his decision to keep it from everyone, Sara being the first person to discover he had it. She had never let anyone know, not even Peter. It was one of the few things he regretted. Sara had lied for him against her better judgment and it bothered him every time he thought about what could have been.
"Great. Maybe we can get together for a drink."
He said it matter of factly, thinking about his 2 mile radius. For a moment he was silent, words escaping him but Sara didn't seem to sense his hesitation, voices in the background speaking close by.
"Sounds great Neal. I'm only going to be in town for a few days. Business with the local office but we should get together. Tell Peter I said Hi. I need to hang up before the stewardess takes my phone. I'll see you soon. Goodbye, Neal."
The cell beeped, indicating the call had ended, Neal holding it to his ear only a minute longer before pulling it away. Sara sounded like she wanted to talk to him unless he was reading more into her call. Why else would she have phone him? It was nearly Christmas, only a few more days. El and Peter had invited him over for a party, Mozzie too. June was going to visit with her granddaughters so he would be alone if not for the Burkes and Mozz. A part of him wanted to hide out but after hearing from Sara, his chest was hurting for other reasons, hope finding a small flare in his uncertainty.
"Earth to Neal… Was that Sara?"
There was a hint of curiosity in his friend's voice as he nodded, putting the phone back on the nightstand as he stood and walked over to the kitchenette again, pouring himself a larger portion of wine than before. Mozzie watched him without a word, for once knowing when not to talk.