Yay new chapter! I felt like this one took forever to get up and I apologize if I took long. I'd like to thank everyone that reviewed, and even though I didn't have time to send a pm to specific people that doesn't mean I'm any less appreciative! Enjoy this chapter!
Neal sat on the Burke's couch reading a collection of Edgar Allen Poe stories and poems. The young man was always up for fine literature, although now his head was clouded with Peter's newest case that he could not help with due to the hole in his chest. That morning when Agent Burke had left for work, the persistent conman practically begged (practically but not quite, because Neal was too graceful to beg) to come into the office in order to help. It had only been three days since the teen was shot, but already it didn't bother him that much; that was as long as he didn't move. But restless Neal was sick of not moving and wanted more than anything to fling himself back into solving cases with his partner.
Shakily, he stood from the couch and made his way over to the door where his coat was hanging. If Peter wouldn't allow him to return to the bureau, then he would work with Mozzie on the streets to get Jorgen. The currently fragile teen gently eased his aching body into his nice jacket before reaching to open the door. But coincidentally, the door opened by itself to reveal none other than Peter Burke. "Hey Neal, did you come to greet me at the door? I wonder why you have your coat on?" he asked all too suspiciously. It didn't take much for the intelligent agent to realize the rash teenager was going to take matters into his own hands.
Neal grinned sheepishly but lit up once he saw Diana and Jones in tow behind the man who had just busted the kid. "Peter!" Neal feigned an over excited tone although he was actually happy that Diana and Jones were here since that could only mean that the senior agent had brought work home with him. "Hey Jones, hey Diana. I suppose you're here since Peter wants to bring me in on the case," Neal said hopefully.
Peter's mouth twisted in mixed emotions: on one side he was disappointed that he had caught the injured boy about to disobey him and leave the house, but on the other side he understood that being cooped up in the house for three days was hard; especially for someone as troublesome as Neal. As the four moved into the kitchen area Peter voiced his disappointment, "Neal, were you about to leave and go gallivanting on your own to try and solve the case?"
The suspect in question took a seat at the table and put on an innocent disposition. "Nah, I was just a little cold," he answered with a slight shiver. Peter gave a frown; of course he knew by experience that Neal was not telling the truth.
"I suppose this time I will let it slide," the lead agent said with a sigh. Over the course of a few days Neal had been shot because Peter blew his cover and now an old frenemy was hunting Neal. He really couldn't blame the kid for being on edge, but at the same time, he couldn't forgive him completely because Neal could have put himself in danger. He would talk to him later about this, but for now it was time for work and he could tell Neal was itching to get started. "Alright, now let's get started," Peter said as he and his agents spread the case files in front of Neal.
"So Neal, do you have any clue why Jorgen would have come to America? Do you know of any business associates he has here? The files we've pulled on Kamychzk hint to him being involved in the Russian mob, but we don't have anything that links him to the U.S," Diana started.
Neal shrugged, "No idea. I can imagine that he's closely related with the Russian mob though; they're just his cup of psycho tea. The only business he has in the U.S that I know about is his unfinished business with me. Though Raskolnikov dropped off the grid and Jorgen never knew me as Neal; I have no clue how he found me. Frankly, I didn't even know myself as Neal Caffrey back then."
Peter tensed at the young man's last words. Sometimes he forgot just how young Neal really was. He couldn't imagine the feeling of identity crisis Neal must have encountered as a young teen. To one day find out that your life was a lie, no one was who you thought they were, and not even your own name was real must've been truly terrifying to a thirteen year old boy.
Jones nodded his head as he processed the overwhelming turn of events that had caught all of the agents off guard. "So Caffrey, you think that Kamychzk is using these stolen paintings to draw out Raskolnikov?" he inquired.
"That's what doesn't make sense. I didn't forge those paintings as Mikhail, I forged them as Neal Caffrey," Neal said in a confused and frustrated tone. It was odd for the conman to lose composure like this and he hung his head in his hands. Was Jorgen strictly coming after Neal Caffrey and the relationship to Raskolnikov was completely coincidental? Caffrey did have a few heists overlapping with the interest of the Russian mob. Nothing seemed to fit together. It was like a jigsaw puzzle with oddly shaped pieces and Neal couldn't figure out what the picture was supposed to be; he was just left to take seemingly matching pieces and jam them together like a toddler.
Peter placed a comforting hand on Neal's shoulder, "Don't worry about it Neal, the FBI will handle this case while you rest and let your wound heal." The protective man stressed that last part as he was tempted to physically shake some sense into the reckless teen, but decided against it due to its hypocritical properties since shaking the boy would most likely cause him pain. Neal gave him an annoyed look that clearly stated that the last thing he wanted to do was rest, but decided not to start a father-vs-son-like dispute in front of Jones and Diana.
That night at dinner Peter decided to bring up Neal's attempted run-away. Elizabeth and Neal were happily chatting about all sorts of fine things when he chose to jump in during a lapse in the conversation. "So Neal, I don't want you leaving the house alone while this case is ongoing," he said in an authoritative manner.
Before the young man could offer any kind of stubborn response, El answered in his place, "Oh don't worry Peter, I will be home all day tomorrow. I'll make sure he behaves," she said light heartedly as she gave Neal a wink.
Neal flashed her a smile but groaned on the inside. The last thing he wanted to do was stay in the house. "Come on guys, as much as I love you and your home, I'm incredibly bored. I need to go to the office with you Peter and help out on the case!" he pleaded.
"No Neal, what you need is to get better. It's only been four days since you were shot."
El gave into those pleading blue eyes as she attempted to throw Neal a bone, "How 'bout this Neal, I will stop by June's and pick up some of your art supplies and a canvas? That way you can immerse yourself in art to drown out your boredom? But only if it doesn't hurt too much to paint, and you have to be completely honest with me!"
The young artists eyes lit up, "Yes please! Thank you so much El! I promise I will tell you if I'm hurting at all."
Peter smiled at his wife praising her for finding a good solution. No doubt it would hurt for Neal to raise his arm in order to paint, and there was no way he would mutter a word about the pain, but at least it kept him occupied and safe.
Sure enough the next morning Neal was busied with his painting while Elizabeth peeked over his shoulder with fascination. "Wow Neal, this is beautiful. I can't believe this isn't a photograph of me and Peter!" Neal chuckled slightly as he wasn't used to being praised for his original artwork. After Peter had left for work and El had retrieved some supplies, she had begged Neal to paint a portrait of her family. He had already finished the portion of Elizabeth and Peter sitting on the couch with a happy Satchmo in between them and just needed to finish the background. "Oh and sweetie, don't you dare forget to put yourself in the painting!" she added with a kiss on the boy's cheek.
Neal tried to mask his expression of surprise; after all he should've expected it from the big-hearted woman. There were no words to describe the feeling he felt that she still wanted him in her family even after all the trouble he had caused them. Neal's heart warmed at the thought that he had a place, a purpose, and he was loved.
"Now as much as I would love to watch you paint, I have some chores I need to do upstairs. Just yell if you need my help, and Neal Caffrey, you better ask me if you need something because I am not going to let you hurt yourself just because you didn't want to bother me," she said sternly but with care laced in every word. She added emphasis to her point by using the boy's full name just as a mother would.
After Neal gave her a convincing promise that he would ask for help if he needed something, Elizabeth went upstairs leaving Neal in the living room.
An hour later, Neal had finished his piece complete with a grinning portrait of himself sitting next to the Burkes. Elizabeth and Peter would be so proud of him. He lethargically found his way back to the sofa and laid down to take a nap. Painting had been uncomfortable and he was in a bit of pain although he didn't think it big enough to bother El. Tolerating the annoying pain had left him bone tired and he would've drifted away in a matter of seconds, however, a knock at the door snapped his eyes back open.
"I'll get it, just give me a minute!" Elizabeth called from upstairs. "Neal, don't you dare get up!" the overprotective woman added. Instead of heeding her warning, he stood to get the door anyway. He wasn't completely helpless and could offer a hand to get the door. But when he opened the door all strength left his body and he just about collapsed where he stood.
On the Burke's doorstep was a burly 6'4 Russian man with a crooked grin plastered on his face.
Oh no! A terrible cliffy! But you know what? You readers have the power to end the suspense! The more reviews I get for a chapter, the quicker I get up the next one. So if you really wanna know what happens and you wanna know soon, then you better review! You will never know how much it means when people review!