"No." Neal spoke stiffly "no I'm not doing that, Peter." He pushed himself up as far as his fractured pelvis would allow, his jaw set stubbornly. His lips were a tight line of residual pain as he shifted. After almost three weeks in the hospital… broken bones were healing… damaged organs beginning to recover. The bruises on his face had mostly faded to a swirl of pale greens and yellows splashed with small lingering patches of purple. He still had a long recovery ahead, but he was beginning to look and sound like Neal again. Right now he looked angry too, despite his attempts to appear calm, his blue eyes flashed defiantly beneath his dark lashes, his pale cheeks flushing. "You know I don't trust them."
"I know you don't" Peter hated this… hated that it was necessary but the image of his friend hanging nearly lifeless in that basement drove him forward "but it is the best option to keep you safe."
"You've done a pretty decent job of that the last 3 years." Neal smiled at him… his eyes almost pleading with his friend to drop it.
"Not good enough this time."
"Decent track record though." His lips flicked up in a small smile
"This isn't one of our cases, Neal. Richards has gone to ground but he will resurface and when he does, he is going to go after you again."
"I don't care." His blue eyes flashed "I don't trust the marshals."
"I know you don't…" his voice dropped slightly as he repeated the acknowledgement. "And I don't trust the FBI" Peter couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, but the thought echoed harshly in the corridors of his mind. Between Valdez's open hostility, Richards' yet unknown contact in the office and the absolute indifference of the whole Violent Crimes office, not only had his faith in the Bureau been shaken…his confidence in the decency of humanity was a bit tenuous. Agent Williams was the only agent assigned to the case who seemed to actually be investigating Richards. "But Neal you almost died…" he shuddered "it was too close."
"I'm not going back into WITSEC. I grew up in that system, I am not spending my adult life there too. I don't care what the risks are."
"I do! I never want to find you the way I did in that basement! Never again!" Peter turned away blinking rapidly… Neal watched him quietly, his resolve floundering a bit
"I have a life here." Neal looked at him sadly, jaw still set. "I like being Neal Caffrey."
"This isn't a long term arrangement, Neal…I'll bring you home, but until Richards and whoever his connection is at the FBI are in custody we can't keep you safe… I can't keep you safe."
"I will sign a waiver, promising not to hold you responsible for my safety."
"You could do that." Peter conceded "You are an adult and even if I think it is incredibly reckless." his voice cracked just a bit "I won't stop you." He paused before he played his last card "but Nate can't" that was low and he knew it, but he could not dispel the thought of his friend dying… broken and afraid. If he had to play a little dirty to prevent that… he swallowed his guilt.
"What is that supposed to mean? They wouldn't do that without parental consent, he's a minor."
"Mr. and Mrs. Bryant signed that consent forms."
"Are they going with him?"
"No… they made a plea bargain last week. 12 to 18 months for breaking and entering and possession of stolen property. Unfortunately they aren't going anywhere."
"Then Nate is going… alone." The thought of the little boy going into a foster home with a false name, in a strange city send a chill through his frame… the image of his son sitting on his bed, smiling as he chattered, was it just yesterday, floating through his mind "They can't do that."
"The marshals are willing to place him in the custody of his biological father…temporarily." He looked at Neal intently
"To me? They want to give custody to me?
"Yes the Marshals will place him in your custody. The Bryant's agreed to it, but you have to accept protection." Peter watched the younger man deflate. This whole situation made him slightly sick but he couldn't think of any other way to keep them safe over the weeks… maybe months… not years, definitely not years, it would take to track down the crazed man who so nearly killed his friend.
"Peter if I do this… you promise I can come home when you catch him."
"I promise. Richards doesn't appear to have mob connections… once he's convicted the two of you will be safe." He lay his hand on Neal's shoulder as the kid sighed, resigning himself
"I'll do it … for Nate." his voice was hardly more than a whisper, sounding like a man agreeing to sell his soul.
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He closed his eyes and tried to block out the words he just overheard but the strident voice of the furious agent reverberated in his memory. Neal pressed his eyes more tightly closed in an effort to erase the horror that swamped his mind. He had started awake to a woman's angry tones.
"Burke, I demand to speak to him!"
"Valdez, he has already given his statement and as you can see he is sleeping" Neal kept his eyes closed and his body still, trying to imitate sleep. Peter's voice was steady but his tone dripped cold fury. Clearly this was an ongoing argument.
"I spoke to Mrs. Richards." The woman's voice had a jagged edge.
"Neal is not responsible for what happened to Meagan."
"Legally… no… there is no recourse for her family… no justice for what he did, but morally… you say he has a conscience. I doubt that… but if he does then he should know that a little girl died because his investment scam got her father fired."
"I am not going to allow you to tell him that." Peter snapped "Richards got himself fired by choosing to 'borrow' his client's money to get in on it."
"I don't care what you allow. Her father snapped and a good man is dead. I knew Lenny Thompson since he was 12… his dad was my favorite professor and is still a dear friend and two weeks ago I had to look him in the eye and tell him his son was dead… because of your …friend"
"Richards killed Lenny. He made the choice to take that boy's life."
"He was pushed to it by the injustice of the situation created by Caffrey. His daughter was 15 years old!" Neal heard a noise like a suppressed growl from his friend and there was moment of silence before a shuffle of cloth and a rather sharp click of the door told him Peter had unceremoniously escorted Agent Valdez out of the room. Their voices still carried from the hall but the words were lost to him…
Now he lay here alone unable to shut off the horrifying thoughts running through his mind. What if she was right … what if someone died because of his scam… no, not someone… a child… a 15 year old girl. She had her whole future ahead of her and he took her life… for what? Twenty thousand dollars…that was nothing. A child's life stolen for… nothing. What kind of monster did that make him…?
What if this was the reason Peter was so determined that he go with the marshals… what if his friend couldn't stand the thought of protecting him anymore, of being responsible for a killer…? Peter had been defending him… but that didn't mean this sat well with him. Neal's mind swirled with the possibility… dipping and spinning with raging guilt and protests of innocence. "I didn't mean it… I didn't know it would happen…I didn't know he was using other people's money…I didn't know she would get sick…" he argued desperately but his conscience snapped at him mercilessly… it doesn't change truth… MURDERER! His heart screamed it at him… Murderer! Murderer! Murderer! Neal clenched his eyes tightly to trap the tears that tried to come, setting his jaw rigidly… he could not undo what was done… he would have to carry it…alone… until the day he died…
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"What are you thinking?!" Mozzie exploded as he burst into the apartment gesturing wildly.
"I'm thinking I need to pack." Neal looked up from his dresser pulling another shirt from the drawer and balancing it on the stack on his knee. Casual shirts… his suits probably wouldn't be appropriate for his new life… though he couldn't resist packing his three favorites.
"You just got out of the hospital!"
"Which is why I have to go now." He smiled tolerantly
"WITSEC?!" the little man nearly screamed "Have you lost your mind? Neal, the marshal's will not have your best interest at heart! Remember how many times you have humiliated them!"
"I don't have a choice, Mozz." He gingerly shoved the wheelchair back maneuvering carefully to the suitcase on the bed.
"Of course you do, you would be better off trusting your safety the suits."
"Peter wants me to go." Neal sighed, leaning back slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position for his aching hips. "I'm not exactly on the FBI's favorite people list right now." He returned to the dresser jerking out socks, quiet despair radiating from his every move. Neal winched slightly as he twisted healing ribs too sharply.
"What is that supposed to mean? Why would he want you to go?" the small man snapped "Do you know how much time the Suit spend watching over you these last few weeks. I tried to sneak in to see you when he wasn't there but, He. Was. Always. There." Mozzie rolled his eyes, his expression amused. His words made the younger man smile just a bit, but he didn't meet his friend's gaze.
"An agent is dead, Mozz and Jones took a bullet… because of me. That doesn't tend to make me very popular."
"I heard about that, but unless you've taken up shooting federal agents" he smiled grimly "while unconscious I might add… you are not responsible for that."
"Johnny kept saying I killed his daughter while he was..." his voice trailed off the memory of the steadily swung bat striking his body filling his mind. A disbelieving snort brought him back to the present.
"That is also an incredibly ridiculous thought." Mozzie studied him, looking suddenly more nervous "you are not a violent man...makes me wonder how hard that blow to your head was if you can't remember that."
"She died because she didn't get proper medical treatment." The older man opened his mouth to speak "her parents didn't take her to the doctor soon enough, because Johnny lost his job…" his breath caught sharply "because I cost him his job."
"You had no way of knowing she would get sick."
"But I knew that scam could get him fired." His voice dropped farther "I just didn't care."
"Neal…" whatever he intended to say was cut off by a sharp knock on the door. The small man cautiously opened it to find Diana standing outside, a large lime green suitcase in one hand and grasping a little blue eyed boy with the other.
"Did I mention going with the Marshals wasn't just about me?" a hint of a smirk was back in the soft voice behind him.
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Nathen looked up from his drawing at Diana. She sat beside him on his father's couch listening to the two men arguing. Well the little guy was arguing… loudly. Nate thought that Neal just sounded resigned and terribly sad. That scared the little boy. Diana squeezed his hand and he smiled at the woman who had cared for him the last few weeks.
"Do we really have to go?" he whispered to her
"Yeah I'm afraid you do? Nate…" she smiled reassuringly "Neal will take care of you." The boy nodded at her comfort. "Caffrey's a lot of things, kiddo" she hesitated just enough to make him curious "Things we don't need to get into, right now, but he is very protective of people he cares about."
"Does that include me?" the boy didn't dare look at her turning his blue eyes instead to the man in question. He really didn't think his biological father looked like he was capable of caring for himself right now… never mind an unexpected son. The man struggled to maneuver the wheelchair around the apartment as he packed the few things he would be allowed to take, carefully avoiding his distraught friend as the other man shadowed him. Nate nervously clutched his back pack closer.
"Apparently" Diana grinned at him "considering." She nodded toward the continuing argument. Nate nodded again thinking of the first time he met his father and the frightening results, but he was still nervous. He barely knew the man. Three visits in the hospital was hardly enough to feel close to him… well four but Nate didn't think it counted as quality time if the man was sleeping.
"I'm scared." The boy admitted.
"It's going to be ok." She stood up then, laying a hand gently on the child's head before she stepped away. He watched his protector move to his father… Neal… Nate still wasn't sure what to call the man. She leaned down and spoke softly to Neal. Nate watched blue eyes that perfectly matched his own swing to study him. He smiled and his father smiled back but Nathen noticed his eyes were sorrowful. Neal reached out a hand to him. Nate approached shyly…
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Leading the three marshals up to his friend's apartment was possibly the hardest thing Peter had ever done. He wanted desperately to keep Neal and his son close… wanted to keep them safe. "Which is why I'm doing this." he reminded himself silently. Knowing the attitude of Valdez and her team it would be selfish and dangerous make them stay here. He straightened his back. This was happening even if he didn't like it. He was here to say goodbye but this wasn't going to be permanent, he promised. They would both be home soon. When he raised his hand to knock he noticed a slight tremble in the appendage… Peter swallowed hard, pushing aside the thought that rose in his mind. "This temporary." He whispered through clenched teeth.
He wasn't surprised when Mozzie opened the door. Glancing around as he stepped inside Peter found Neal near his bed… casted left foot propped up on the foot rest of his chair, Nathen balanced on his right knee. Their expressions were serious… the little boy looked like he might have been crying recently. A suitcase sat on the bed, another beside the couch where Diana reclined, watching them. He wasn't really surprised to find her eyes were a bit misty. June bustled about in the kitchen… packing up a box of cookies. Wiping absently at tears that trickled silently from her eyes she looked up at him. Peter wasn't expecting Jones to be there leaning quietly against the wall near the French doors… giving him a half-hearted grin as he entered. The room held a funereal feeling… a melancholy sense of finality... Peter tried to swallow his somber thoughts. "They will be back" he assured himself.
He waited quietly while Marshal Randel tried to explain the rules… smiling slightly when Neal cut him off.
"I know how this works. We don't take any personal items that could be used to identify us. We don't attempt to contact anyone from our past…we remember our new names and forget our old ones… did I miss anything important?" he swallowed "Is everything ready?"
"Yes"
"Then let's get this over with." Randel nodded and passed him a sheaf of papers to sign. The formalities finished, two of the men collected the luggage and carried it to the car. Randel smiled not unkindly.
"I'll give you a minute to say your goodbyes… I'll be in the hall." Peter waited… while Diana gently punched Neal's shoulder with forced playfulness.
"If you get into any trouble while you are gone I will hear about it." She said… if her voice cracked slightly they all ignored it. Then taking Nathen's hand she led him outside gently.
Peter waited while Jones squeezed the young man's arm affectionately, his eyes suspiciously damp.
"Take care, Caffrey… I'll see you soon" he smiled tightly, spinning on his heal in a perfect military turn he stalked out of the room… hesitating for the briefest of moments in the doorway before he disappeared.
He waited while June hugged her lodger closely for a long moment, whispering something in his ear that made him smile.
"Neal, honey, you come home soon… you know this house is far too quiet without you." He nodded, unable to make that promise.
Waited while Mozzie studied his friend for a long moment.
"They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety."
"Benjamin Franklin" Neal smiled affectionately, his eyes sad.
"You are really going to do this?"
"Yes" the little man threw his hands in the air in defeat and glared at Peter.
"You better bring him home." He snapped before he fled. Then they were alone. Neal pulled his consultant's ID out… staring at it he blinked rapidly. Then with a small sigh he offered it to the agent.
"I can't bring this" his voice soft.
"I'll keep it for you."
"I'd appreciate that."
"It will be right here when you come home." He tucked the wallet into his pocket. Silence fell for a moment
"Neal, I…" Peter sighed "I wish there was another way… but I can't protect you… and Valdez and her team won't."
"I know" he looked away… blue eyes unable to meet Peter's gaze "I understand why I have to go." There was such hurt in those blue eyes, the agent couldn't hold his gaze. This felt so like a betrayal…
"I'm sorry"
"I don't blame you, Peter don't feel guilty." Neal focused on removing a bit of lint from his pants and unlocking the wheelchair in preparation for leaving. "This is my mess… I'm sorry you got pulled into it." His friend dropped a strong hand on his shoulder squeezing gently.
"This is temporary" The older man insisted "I will see you soon"
"I'll see you soon" Neal looked up smiling then... Peter almost believed him… almost…