White Collar AU Siegel

Solitary Solidarity

Agent David Siegel took the folded letter from his drawer and opened it with a heavy sigh.

"Dear Officer Siegel,

Thank you for reading to me when I was afraid to come out. Sometimes it is still hard to believe that I have been home for 6 months now. Last week, my sister and I went to the store together. She gave me a list and sent me to pick up a few items while she stood in line at the pharmacy. There were a lot of people, a lot a faces I don't know. I wanted to run away…to hide in my room back home or even back in the cell. I imagined I was Bilbo and kept on like he did. It has been more than 2 years since you persuaded me to be brave like Bilbo and step out of my door. A lot of things still overwhelm me that never used to. Being in places with a lot of people, like a store or church gathering is one of them. Whenever I hear people talking over each other, it takes me back there when I could hear everyone's voices but could not tell what they were saying, if they were saying anything at all. Overwhelming or not, life is worth walking through. Thank you for waiting for me to walk out that door.

Sincerely,

Meriadoc Bulger."

David's lips gave the slightest hint of a smile as he reread the words. He looked through the glass of his new office at his boss who appeared to be finally packing up his briefcase for the day. A deep but steady breath later, with the cherished letter still in his hand, and the man knocked on his new superior's door.

"Come in, Angel Siegel. How can I help you," Burke said.

"I realize it is late notice, but I really need to take this Thursday afternoon off, if it is at all possible."

"Why, if you can share?" Siegel was not surprised at this question. Of course, the man would want to know why his newest agent was requesting a day off on his first week at the job, but he waited to be asked, as he was unsure in this new office, how much sharing was expected.

"Before Quantico, I was a corrections officer from my junior year of college through my Master's degree. There is a community townhall hearing of sorts in the Manhattan municipal building regarding restricted housing within the prison system. I wish it were more formal than it is, but regardless, I want to provide my input."

"An important topic to be discussed publicly, formal or not. Take all the time you need Thursday. As a former corrections officer, what is your take on solitary?" As soon as he asked this last question, the older man flushed slightly but maintained eye contact. "Excuse me, I'm sorry," Burke corrected himself, "that is none of my business."

"It's fine, really," said Siegel, "you do realize I intend to tell a room full of strangers my perspective on the subject." He fought back a concerned smile. The last thing they needed in their new work relationship was his boss worrying that his agent was afraid that protective isolation had taken too much of toll on him.

"I'm not a stranger, but close enough since we barely know each other. I am your new boss, so that makes it worse."

"True enough, but I am not ashamed of how where I've come from has shaped the man I am today and the way I see the world. Thursday, I will only be sharing some statistics my colleagues and I kept track of as well as our overall take on how our assignment was progressing. We were hired in as a group when the prison was first being transitioned away from using restrictive housing as a disciplinary measure. We improved the lives of a lot of people. I am proud of the work we did there. I won't be sharing the more personal side of things at the townhall, but if you are interested…" Siegel handed Burke the opened letter. The senior agent read it, did not speak, but looked at Siegel and waited. "He had a five-year sentence for I don't remember what. Wasn't a violent person by nature, but during his 4th month in, he threw a punch at a guard. He was placed in restrictive housing for, supposedly two weeks. However, when we arrived at the facility 3 years later, he was still there and no one could explain why. We went to move him to a transitional block, one that was not exactly like solitary but still not with the entire rest of the population. However, when we opened the door, he refused to come out. He would only either stay in his cell or move through the other door into the excuse of a yard if that door was unlocked. We considered forcibly removing him, but were concerned that would be even more damaging than leaving him for a while longer. So, we would open the door and speak to him throughout the day. Several of us, developed a rotation between his cell and other duties, or would go see him before or after our shifts. He wouldn't speak to us, just cowered in the furthest corner of the cell. I began reading The Hobbit just so that I could have words to say. Over several weeks, he did begin responding, giving eye contact, speaking. He connected with The Hobbit and Bilbo and decided that it was worth it for Bilbo to go on his adventure. He decided to go an adventure of his own and step out of the cell. From there, we moved him to the transitional unit, and over time were able to reintegrate him with the rest of the population. He did well, all things considered. But the isolation left its scars. There is no excuse for what happened to him." Siegel felt Burke's considering gaze, but chose to not try to read his face.

"Well, take all the time you need, Thursday," looking down at the signature, he asked, "A pseudonym?"

David smiled and answered, "No, it's actually his name. He is over 5 feet tall if you are curious. Thank you for the time Thursday."

"May I come?" David and Burke both jumped slightly at the voice. David looked over to office door and saw his new CI standing there with an awkward smile on his face. "I know you sent me home an hour ago, but I'd forgotten…" and he held up a charcoal pencil. Anyway, if it's all right, I'd like to come." He looked like he wanted to say more, but wasn't going to, and Siegel had a feeling if he prodded, the slight opening would seal up tightly for a long time. Agent Siegel considered the man standing there with his pencil; surely, he had several at home; he must have come back for something else. Burke remained quiet, but smiled with a slightly raised eyebrow at his former CI and his new agent.

"Of course, Mr. Caffery. I would be happy to have you accompany me," David said, flashing the man a bold smile. There were more important things than asking about pencils. "Please, let me drive you home."