White Collar Fic: I Believe I can Fly
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything but an exorbitant amount of student loans!
Written for: Offering Words, help Japan auction
Summary: “America is the land of the second chance - and when the gates of the prison open, the path ahead should lead to a better life.”-George W. Bush.
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I Believe I can Fly
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Neal leaned over the terrace railing peering onto the city below as he rotated his ankle uncomfortably around in its tracker. It had been there for nearly two years now and Neal couldn’t even actually consciously feel it anymore but just knowing it was there made it seem heavy and cumbersome.
He had gotten caught for Kate, been put away for Kate, escaped for Kate, doubled his sentence for Kate and now Kate was gone and he was still on a virtual leash with the FBI holding the other end-because of Kate.
This was not the second chance he had been hoping for that day he had escaped-the day he had made the deal with Peter. This was not how it was supposed to end up and yet here he was.
He knew it was all over that day Peter pocketed that ring-Kate’s engagement ring-or he had hoped it too be. He knew that evening as he took the long way home through the park and he could no longer envision his children in that play ground -he knew then that it was really all over for him. Prison and the FBI had stolen his last visage of happiness. The stolen kisses with Sara the day before-had only sealed the deal-SWAK-Neal thought letting out a mirthless chuckle.
How could he have known those 4 years would be the last 4 years he would have been able to spend happy with Kate? He hadn’t even fathomed that would be the case and now looking back his memories of prison became even more bitter then before for they had stolen Kate’s last few years from him.
But… Had he ever really been happy with Kate-he thought he had been. The excitement the pure adrenaline he had lived on for years on end. It had been a high that was true, but had it been happy? Neal couldn’t remember. Time had a tendency to color memories the way we wanted to. Truth was always lost in the moment-never to be clean and untarnished again.
And what was with today? He supposed he knew that Peter never really trusted him, as much as he had pretended to-but to see it laid out so clearly after all they had been through together… Neal had hoped Peter had at least grown to like him-and he thought he had especially after being nearly dragged to his house for dinner the night before. The talk they had had- Peter giving him advice on girls… it was almost like the man really was his father.
He wasn’t supposed to get so attached to Peter and in truth, until 2 weeks ago when he had locked eyes with Peter just before Lang put that bag over his head and Neal had to deal with the idea of losing him-Neal hadn’t even realized just how attached he had become. The sick feeling that had followed him the rest of that day as he tried frantically to get his handler-his friend, back was reminiscent of the feeling Neal had had the entire time he had been searching for Kate. That feeling he had gotten every time she slipped through his fingers again. But this time it was deeper, sharper and harder to shake. Even after Peter had been found the feeling hadn’t completely abated.
Now-now he just felt stupid as it was apparent the feelings were all one sided. Peter hadn’t ever cared- Neal felt-he felt conned! He had never been on this side of the emotion equation before. It was usually the other person loving him while he pretended to have feelings in return in order to work an angle. It had never played out this way before with him being the one left devastated and ruined, though Peter hadn’t conned him out of anything but his heart.
The worst thing was, he could hardly blame the man! He wouldn’t trust him either if their places were swapped. Why then, did it hurt so badly? Neal didn’t know.
A feather fell from a bird flying over head and Neal watched as it made its way down through the air swaying back and forth, back and forth in its slow decent. He watched as it made its way down to the street below, almost lighter than air, the wind lifting it back up every time it had nearly touched the ground.
If he fell would he float down like that feather too? Common sense told him no, but the 3 empty wine bottles and half gone bottle of scotch told him it was ok to at least try.
He leaned back and grabbed the railing tightly and noticed for the first time how shaky his hands were as he used them to push up onto thin metal beam. He looked down at the street below; at his new elevated height the view was extraordinary.
Balancing on the railing and staring at the world below, Neal didn’t hear his apartment door open, nor did he hear the terrace door open, after that. What he did hear was a loud gasp as he felt hands grab tightly around his waist.
“What the hell are you doing?” An angry, shaking voice demanded in his ear.
“I wash gunna fly,” Neal slurred.
“Oh great, your drunk, and apparently a stupid insane drunk at that,” the voice lamented.
“P`der dunent beleaf me he dunent luff me, he’d luff me if I culd fly,” Neal reasoned drunkenly.
“Peter doesn’t…” The voice cut off in question and Neal was spun around to stare into the concerned eyes of one exasperated, special agent Peter Burke, “oh, Neal.” He sighed sadly.
“Oh hi P`der when’d-ya get here?” Neal asked a sloppy sad smile on his face, “Wana see me fly?” He added hopefully.
Peter just looked at the kid sadly. Had he done this to the boy? He had been rather callus and accusatory but he hadn’t meant to hurt the younger man. It was just that the entire job had Neal Caffrey written all over it, had practically screamed the kids name.
“No, Neal, no flying.” Peter said shaking his head and pulling the kid far away from the railing.
Neal’s eyes filled with tears, “but you’ll luff me `gain if I can fly,”
Peter ran a hand down his face and then yanked Neal all the way back into the pent house. He sat him down on his bed and pointed a finger at him “Don’t even move a muscle” he ordered and would have laughed at the way Neal stilled and sat like a statue if he hadn’t been so worried about him.
He looked over at Satchmo still sitting obediently at the door where he had left him having stopped by to see Neal on his way back from the groomer-it was on the way Peter reasoned and he had wanted to give the kid a chance to confess… at least that was the justification he had given himself as he stopped in front of Junes with the overly excitable golden retriever. “Keep an eye on him, boy” Peter told the dog, who gave a little jump and a bark before trotting over to Neal and laying his head on the young man’s knee.
Going into the kitchen, Peter made some coffee, which the kid had probably pilfered from June, and poured a large mug which he brought back to Neal and thrust it in his face, “Here, drink” He demanded.
Neal, who had still been sitting like a statue, never moving despite the large dog head in his lap, broke his pose and took the offered cup, sipping at the hot sobering liquid and finally patting Satchmo, an act that seemed to sooth the kid as much as the dog.
They sat in silence while Neal finished his coffee. When he was done Peter took the empty mug from the kid and put it on the bedside table.
Neal’s entire countenance was bowed, his head tucked down with his chin resting on his chest as he felt Peter staring down at him.
“Why are you here Peter?” He asked in a near whisper.
“Stopping you from killing yourself apparently,” Peter groused.
“Fine, then mission accomplished. You can leave now.” Neal told him, laying down he curled up on his bed, his back to Peter, “You know where the door is.”
Satchmo jumped onto the bed with him, hopping over his frame to curl up against Neal’s belly.
“I can’t just leave you here now…” Peter started, he was confused by the behavior, it wasn’t like Neal. If he had really stolen the art, sure he’d never out and admit it, but he wouldn’t get all Sandra Dee on him about it. The man was used to him accusing him of things and most of the time he was right about Neal’s culpability, he was usually always right about Neal’s culpability he just wasn’t usually ever able to prove it.
“Sure you can, it’s real easy, just walk to the door, open it and close it again with you on the other side,” Neal snarked without ever turning to face the other man.
Peter sat down on the bed next to Neal and placed a gentle hand on his hip.
“And you say I have problems following direction,” Neal grumbled with a roll of his eyes, looking over his shoulder at Peter.
“Neal…” Peter started, the words the kid had spoken to him while he was 2 pints short of a barrel coming back to him… ‘if I fly Peter will love me again…’ He had really hurt the kid and he knew, some place deep down that it wouldn’t have hurt the young man if he had really done it… or if he really didn’t care about him. Now more than ever Peter was sure he wasn’t one of Neal’s marks and that their bond was genuine. Somehow that made him feel like an even bigger heel for what he had said.
“Please, just go. You have evidence to find, don’t you?” Neal accused. Even Satchmo lifted his head to give Peter a dirty look.
Peter sighed- even Satchmo was against him now, “At least let me call Sara, or Moz to come sit with you,” Peter tried as he stood up.
“If I wanted them here I am perfectly capable of calling them myself. I’ll promise I won’t try and ‘fly’ again if you’ll just go away. What do you care anyway…” The last part was added so low Peter wasn’t sure if he had actually heard it.
Peter walked slowly to the door peering back at Neal a few times as he went. He wasn’t sure what to say even if he had heard correctly. He had really put his foot in it this time… “Come Satchmo,” He called, the dog seemed to glare at him before laying his head down on Neal’s side and refusing to budge. Great, wonderful, perfect… as Peter went to pick the leash up from the table to go and get the dog himself, a small open card caught his eye. How had he not noticed that before? and The curiosity got the better of him so he picked it up and read it- his heart bottoming out his feet at the finish. He peered at Neal’s back and swallowed thickly, “You really didn’t do it, did you?” He managed to force out.
Neal rolled over to face Peter, “That’s what I told you but you didn’t believe me…”
“That’s what you always tell me Neal, no matter what your level of capability actually is,” Peter defended.
“I know I’ve done some stupid things, Peter, but I’d never do anything so blatantly against my work release, something that would spit in your face like that. I thought you knew that. I’ve been trying so hard… but you just don’t see it.” Neal’s eyes were filling with tears and he reached to wipe them away.
Peter took a step closer to Neal, that had been very eloquently put, like most of Neal’s speech-Neal’s Sober speech, but all Peter heard was the underlying meaning to the grown up words, ‘I’m trying to be a good boy daddy but you still only think I’m naughty,’ and it broke his heart a bit.
Booted out of the kid’s apartment or not, Peter couldn’t leave him like this, not in the light of all this new information. He had been an ass and he needed to make things better. Walking back over to the bed he sat back down and put a hand on the kid’s messy mop of hair.
Satchmo lay on the bed behind them eyeing Peter in a way that said ‘hurt the boy again and I’ll do to you what you had the vets do to me…’
“I hurt you,” Peter stated sadly rubbing his thumb against the kids brow, “I never meant to.”
Neal closed his eyes “You didn’t listen,” tears spilled out from beneath closed lashes.
“No I didn’t,” Peter agreed as he continued his ministrations. “I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t- love you- I do...” man that was hard to admit, but damn-he did! “Peter took a bit of a vacation and Agent Burke just took over… he is an ass like that sometimes.”
Neal gave a teary chuckle despite himself, “Yeah, tell me about it.” he sniffed.
Peter gave Neal’s bottom a playful swat making the boy gave a dramatic indignant “OW” his eyes popping open, “watch it,” Peter said with mock offence. Satchmo gave a light growl at Peter and the man held his hands up in surrender to the dog, before dropping the smile, taking a deep breath and continuing, “I care about you, that’s why I got so mad when I thought you conned me… I know I should have listened to you and it’s no excuse. I am sorry I hurt you kid, that was never my intent.” Peter let pour from his mouth, this was by no means easy for him and Neal knew that.
Sitting up Neal butted his head under Peter’s arm and against his chest, demanding affection.
Smiling Peter obliged, pulling the boy to him and kissing his head.
Neal nuzzle into a spot at the crook of Peter’s neck and close his eyes again, “My head hurts,”
“Seeing how much you drank, Neal, MY head hurts.” Peter snorted, but it was lost as the kids breathing had evened out, he had fallen asleep, right there in Peter’s arms.
Sensing all was once again right with his dad and his boy, Satchmo dropped his head onto his paws and closed his eyes.
Peter sighed, he was glad El was out of town. It was going to be a long night. Not wanting to wake the kid Peter shimmied up to the headboard, leaned back and toed off his shoes…
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The next morning when June began to worry that she had heard no noise coming from her pent house and that Peter, who had usually picked Neal up by now was nowhere to be found, opened the door to find both men, still fully dressed and sound asleep, Neal snuggled in against Peter’s side, Peter’s arms wrapped protectively around Neal- Satchmo curled at their feet.
Satchmo’s head popped up when he heard June open the door. June pressed her finger to her lips and smiled as the dog dropped his head back on to his paws.
They were both going to be late for work… June smiled and left them to sleep. She was sure she had Reese Hughes phone number somewhere.