FIC: Surprises VIII
8. Every Parent's Worst Nightmare
Neal woke up to find himself cuffed to a bed. It was a nice bed, with pricey silk sheets. Then he remembered being pistol-whipped.
"Peter?" the CI called.
A woman laughed, sending chills down Neal's spine.
"Your FBI friend isn't here right now, Caffrey," the woman informed him.
Neal frowned. That voice sounded vaguely familiar…was he losing his mind?
"But don't worry, he'll be joining you shortly," the woman continued speaking, "just as soon as Marabelle is done with him."
"If you hurt him, I'll-" Neal began, but the woman cut him off with another peal of laughter.
"You'll do what, Caffrey? You're cuffed to a bed, and if you even think about picking them, I will hurt your little friend, Dante Haversham," the woman warned him.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but I've finished the tests," a woman-Neal guessed Marabelle-called.
"Excellent," the first woman replied, "bring the child in and cuff him to the bed alongside Caffrey."
Marabelle carried Peter into the room, placing him gently on the bed beside Neal. As she cuffed the child to a bedpost, she slipped something into Peter's pants pocket-and she did so without Neal even noticing what was happening right next to him.
"Hurry up, Marabelle, I want you to show me the test results personally," the woman ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," Marabelle replied, suppressing the urge to grind her teeth-it would not do for her to attract her employer's ire now.
~*~
Once they were alone, Peter called, "Neal?"
"I'm fine," Neal insisted, pretending that his head didn't hurt anywhere near as badly as it really did. But Peter saw right thru the CI's façade, as he always did.
"That woman got you pretty good in the face with her pistol," he remarked, "that at least has to be hurting you."
"Right now, that's the least of our problems," Neal replied sullenly, "do you know where they're holding Mozzie?"
Peter frowned at the CI.
"They don't have Mozzie," he said.
"They don't?"
"Trust me, Neal, they left Mozzie bleeding in that alley."
"That isn't very comforting," Neal observed.
"Well, the fact that he was right next to your anklet the last time I saw him should make up for that, right?" Peter asked.
"I suppose," Neal hedged, "but enough about Mozzie for the moment. What about you?"
"Me?" Peter asked.
"Yes, Peter, you. Are you alright?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Marabelle says that I will be able to safely return to my proper age with 'controlled administration of the reversal agent'," the child assured him, carefully pronouncing the lengthier words as precisely as the captive scientist had spoken them to him earlier.
"Who is Marabelle, anyways?" Neal wondered aloud.
"A government scientist kidnapped by that woman to do her bidding," Peter replied, "at least, that's what Marabelle told me, and I'm inclined to believe her."
"Why would you be so inclined, Peter?"
"I recognized her-her file was put on my desk last month because the lead agent in Missing Persons wanted my input on figuring out what had happened to her."
"That still doesn't mean that-" Neal began, but Peter interrupted him.
"The two people who grabbed us, the man and the woman, they are the children of that lead agent, Neal," he said, "Martin and Angel Gardner, aged 15 months."
"That's impossible," Neal objected.
"Really?" Peter challenged him, "considering I've been turned into a child, it's not that far-fetched."
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Neal woke up to find himself cuffed to a bed. It was a nice bed, with pricey silk sheets. Then he remembered being pistol-whipped.
"Peter?" the CI called.
A woman laughed, sending chills down Neal's spine.
"Your FBI friend isn't here right now, Caffrey," the woman informed him.
Neal frowned. That voice sounded vaguely familiar…was he losing his mind?
"But don't worry, he'll be joining you shortly," the woman continued speaking, "just as soon as Marabelle is done with him."
"If you hurt him, I'll-" Neal began, but the woman cut him off with another peal of laughter.
"You'll do what, Caffrey? You're cuffed to a bed, and if you even think about picking them, I will hurt your little friend, Dante Haversham," the woman warned him.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but I've finished the tests," a woman-Neal guessed Marabelle-called.
"Excellent," the first woman replied, "bring the child in and cuff him to the bed alongside Caffrey."
Marabelle carried Peter into the room, placing him gently on the bed beside Neal. As she cuffed the child to a bedpost, she slipped something into Peter's pants pocket-and she did so without Neal even noticing what was happening right next to him.
"Hurry up, Marabelle, I want you to show me the test results personally," the woman ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," Marabelle replied, suppressing the urge to grind her teeth-it would not do for her to attract her employer's ire now.
~*~
Once they were alone, Peter called, "Neal?"
"I'm fine," Neal insisted, pretending that his head didn't hurt anywhere near as badly as it really did. But Peter saw right thru the CI's façade, as he always did.
"That woman got you pretty good in the face with her pistol," he remarked, "that at least has to be hurting you."
"Right now, that's the least of our problems," Neal replied sullenly, "do you know where they're holding Mozzie?"
Peter frowned at the CI.
"They don't have Mozzie," he said.
"They don't?"
"Trust me, Neal, they left Mozzie bleeding in that alley."
"That isn't very comforting," Neal observed.
"Well, the fact that he was right next to your anklet the last time I saw him should make up for that, right?" Peter asked.
"I suppose," Neal hedged, "but enough about Mozzie for the moment. What about you?"
"Me?" Peter asked.
"Yes, Peter, you. Are you alright?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Marabelle says that I will be able to safely return to my proper age with 'controlled administration of the reversal agent'," the child assured him, carefully pronouncing the lengthier words as precisely as the captive scientist had spoken them to him earlier.
"Who is Marabelle, anyways?" Neal wondered aloud.
"A government scientist kidnapped by that woman to do her bidding," Peter replied, "at least, that's what Marabelle told me, and I'm inclined to believe her."
"Why would you be so inclined, Peter?"
"I recognized her-her file was put on my desk last month because the lead agent in Missing Persons wanted my input on figuring out what had happened to her."
"That still doesn't mean that-" Neal began, but Peter interrupted him.
"The two people who grabbed us, the man and the woman, they are the children of that lead agent, Neal," he said, "Martin and Angel Gardner, aged 15 months."
"That's impossible," Neal objected.
"Really?" Peter challenged him, "considering I've been turned into a child, it's not that far-fetched."
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