The green mile
Title: The green mile
Author: NYWCgirl
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: None
Characters: Peter, Neal, Clinton, Mozzie, Keller
Warning: death penalty
Spoilers: none
Rating: NC-13
Genre: emotional hurt/comfort, Alternate universe, nightmares, electrocution,
Author's Notes: This story was written to fill the ‘Electrocution’ square on my H/C bingo card. Based on the movie ‘The Green mile’.
Word Count: ~ 1575
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Peter is a guard on death row and a new prisoner is brought in.
Story can also be found on AO3.
Peter arrives at the end of the Mile, takes up position next to an empty cell and waits. His right hand, Clinton peers out the viewing slot as a truck stops outside. When the backdoor of the truck opens, Clinton gets a first look of their next prisoner.
Neal Caffrey…
He is of average size, slim, his dark wave hair combed back, but what strikes Clinton, is his piercing blue eyes. He looks dull and confused, as if he is wondering where he is and how he got here. Keller is the guard leading him towards E-block in shackles. Keller has his hickory baton out of its custom made holster, hollering “Dead man!”
“Dead man walking!”
Peter can´t see them approach from where he stands, but he can clearly hear Keller.
“We got a death man walking here!”
“What is he yelling about?” Peter asks Clinton.
Up at the door, Clinton rolls his eyes. Keller is the first through the door still hollering.
“Dead man!”
“Dead man walking!”
Then Caffrey enters. Keller keeps yanking on the man´s cuffs, leading him along with a cry of
“Dead man walking here!”
“We got a dead man walking here!”
“Keller! That's enough.”
Keller falls reproachfully silent. Peter motions him to come forward. They keep walking towards Peter.
Peter studies Neal while he approaches.
“Am I gonna have any trouble with you, pretty boy?”
Neal slowly shakes his head. Peter takes the clipboard with Neal´s transferred papers, turns and enters the cell.
Caffrey stands outside the cell and waits, as if he doesn´t understand the concept of following. Peter motions him to come in.
Caffrey starts to comply, but Keller raps him smartly with the tip of his hickory baton to get him moving faster. He flinches but enters the cell. Peter stares angrily at Keller, who stands slapping his hickory baton against the palm of his hand like a man with a toy he´s itching to use.
“Keller, they're moving house in the infirmary. Why don't you go see if they could use some help?” Peter addresses Keller without taking his eyes off Caffrey.
“They got all the men they need.”
“Why don't you just make sure? I don't care where you go, as long as it's not here at this moment.”
Keller flushes, the baton hovering near his palm. He looks like he´s about to say something back, but thinks better of it.
Peter returns his attention to the new prisoner.
“If I let Jones take those chains off you, you gonna be nice?”
Caffrey nods. Clinton enters to remove Caffrey's shackles. Peter looks at the transfer papers.
“Your name is Neal Caffrey.’
“Yes, sir, like the beer.”
“My name is Peter Burke. If I'm not here, you can ask for Mr. Jones or Mr. Hughes...those gentlemen there. This isn't like the rest of the prison. It's a quiet place, we like to keep it that way.”
Caffrey considers this carefully, puzzled.
“Your time here can be easy or hard, depends on you. If you behave, you get to walk in the exercise yard every day. We might even play some music on the radio from time to time. Questions?”
“Do you leave a light on after bedtime?”
Peter blinks. It's the last thing he expected. Caffrey smiles uneasily, as if they might think him foolish for asking.
“Because I don’t like the dark sometimes. If it's a strange place.”
Peter looks to his men. The guards are trading glances.
“It's pretty bright in here all night long. We keep half the lights burning in the corridor.”
Caffrey looks confused. Peter points to the lights lining the ceiling of the Green Mile in wire mesh cages. Caffrey nods, relieved. Then he surprises everybody by offering Peter his hand, as if to show proper manners. Peter hesitates, oddly touched, then surprised his men even more by accepting. Peter steps from the cell. Clinton slides the door shut, locks it. Caffrey stands a moment as if unsure what to do, then sinks onto the cot with his hands clasped between his knees.
He looks up at Peter, his voice soft as a whisper. “Couldn't help it, sir. I tried to take it back, but it was too late.”
Peter turns, leads his men up the Mile...
* * *
After an incident Peter tells Keller to make a report to the warden.
Clinton studies Peter “What about you? You look about ready to collapse.”
“I’ve got the mile till you all get back. Go on now.”
They all exit. As soon as he´s alone, Peter gives in to the pain, holding his crotch and sinking to his knees with a moan. It is so bad he actually lays down on the Mile, face pressed against the cool linoleum, wishing he were dead.
“Sir, Please come over here.”
“This is not a good time Neal. Not a good time at all.” Peter moans.
“But I need to see you. I need to talk to you.”
Peter sighs. He rises with a supreme effort, walks painfully down the Mile and finds Neal waiting at the bars.
“Closer.”
“I´m alone here right now, Neal. Figure this is close enough.”
“Sir, please. I got to whisper in your ear.”
Peter blinks. Maybe it is the fever clouding his brain, or maybe… hell, is this what being hypnotized is like? He tries to shake the sensation off, comes a little closer.
“What do you want Neal?”
“I just want to help you.”
His hand shoots out, grabs Peter by the collar and jerks him closer. Peter makes a panic grab for his gun, but Neal lays his free hand on top of Peter´s. His hand then drifts slowly down, easing to Peter´s crotch.
Peter stays frozen in his place.
“What are you doing?” he whispers.
And then something goes through Peter´s body. He arches back with his mouth agape and arms outstretched as a rush of energy seems to pass from Peter through Neal´s hand.
And as soon it was there, it is over. Peter comes back to the real world, hanging weakly from the bars, realizing some inmate is hollering in his cell.
“HELP! Neal Caffrey is killing Boss Burke! Help!”
“Settle down, I´m fine.” He calls out.
It only dawns on him that he really is fine. The fever is gone, so is the pain in his groin. But then he realizes, Neal is not fine. He sits on his bunk, bend forward, gagging.
“Neal? Neal? What´s wrong?”
Peter fumbles with his keys, unsure if he should open the door, watching the man´s contortions grow stronger. And then it is gone.
“What did you do to me?”
“I took it away, isn´t it better?”
“Yes, but… how?”
Caffrey shrugs “I don´t know. But I am tired.”
Neal rolls onto his bunk, facing the wall. Peter just stares at him, stunned. He turns and wakes up the Mile.
* * *
Execution Chamber
There is silence when Neal is led in, all eyes on him. The family of the victims is sitting on the front row.
“Die slow, you bastard.” Is muttered.
Neal falters when Peter and Clinton bring him to the chair.
“I can feel the hate. It hurts.” He whispers.
“Feel how we feel. We don´t hate you. Can you feel that?” Clinton whispers back.
Neal tries to take comfort in it, but flinches when more hateful words are shouted at him.
Peter and Clinton turn Neal around, sit him down. Peter kneels to apply the leg clamps, while Clinton secures his arms.
They rise, step back.
Peter calls out. “Roll on one.”
A guard cranks the generator. The lights flare hotter and brighter.
“Neal Caffrey… you have been condemned to die in the electric chair by a jury of your peers. Sentence imposed by a judge in good standing in this state. Do you have anything to say before sentence is carried out?” Peter states.
Neal hesitates, nods.
“I am sorry for what I am.”
Clinton takes the mask from the hook to draw it over Caffrey´s head. Caffrey looks to Peter with terrified, pleading eyes.
“Please, sir, don’t put that thing over my face. Please.”
“All right, Neal.”
Clinton puts the mask back, proceeds with the sponge. The cap is lowered. Neal is breathing fast, terrified.
The third guard is poised at the switch, wondering why the order won´t come.
Peter is staring at Neal, unable to say the words. Clinton whispers “Peter, You have to say it. You have to give the order.”
Peter can´t. He reaches out and touches Neal´s hand. Their fingers clasp. In that moment, staring into his eyes. Their fingers disengage. Peter steps back, eyes still locked with Neal and says the hardest words he´s ever spoken.
“Roll on two.”
* * *
Peter sits straight up in bed. His breathing is erratic and his heart is pounding in his chest. It takes a moment for him to realize he is sitting in his bed.
A nightmare. It was just a nightmare.
“What´s wrong hon?” El groans next to him.
“Nothing” he whispers, not thrusting his own voice. It was just a nightmare. He gets up and slowly walks downstairs where Satchmo walks up to him to see what is wrong. He drinks some water.
While he pets Satchmo he makes a mental note for future references not to eat heavy while watching movies like The Green Mile just before going to bed.
Author: NYWCgirl
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: None
Characters: Peter, Neal, Clinton, Mozzie, Keller
Warning: death penalty
Spoilers: none
Rating: NC-13
Genre: emotional hurt/comfort, Alternate universe, nightmares, electrocution,
Author's Notes: This story was written to fill the ‘Electrocution’ square on my H/C bingo card. Based on the movie ‘The Green mile’.
Word Count: ~ 1575
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Peter is a guard on death row and a new prisoner is brought in.
Story can also be found on AO3.
Peter arrives at the end of the Mile, takes up position next to an empty cell and waits. His right hand, Clinton peers out the viewing slot as a truck stops outside. When the backdoor of the truck opens, Clinton gets a first look of their next prisoner.
Neal Caffrey…
He is of average size, slim, his dark wave hair combed back, but what strikes Clinton, is his piercing blue eyes. He looks dull and confused, as if he is wondering where he is and how he got here. Keller is the guard leading him towards E-block in shackles. Keller has his hickory baton out of its custom made holster, hollering “Dead man!”
“Dead man walking!”
Peter can´t see them approach from where he stands, but he can clearly hear Keller.
“We got a death man walking here!”
“What is he yelling about?” Peter asks Clinton.
Up at the door, Clinton rolls his eyes. Keller is the first through the door still hollering.
“Dead man!”
“Dead man walking!”
Then Caffrey enters. Keller keeps yanking on the man´s cuffs, leading him along with a cry of
“Dead man walking here!”
“We got a dead man walking here!”
“Keller! That's enough.”
Keller falls reproachfully silent. Peter motions him to come forward. They keep walking towards Peter.
Peter studies Neal while he approaches.
“Am I gonna have any trouble with you, pretty boy?”
Neal slowly shakes his head. Peter takes the clipboard with Neal´s transferred papers, turns and enters the cell.
Caffrey stands outside the cell and waits, as if he doesn´t understand the concept of following. Peter motions him to come in.
Caffrey starts to comply, but Keller raps him smartly with the tip of his hickory baton to get him moving faster. He flinches but enters the cell. Peter stares angrily at Keller, who stands slapping his hickory baton against the palm of his hand like a man with a toy he´s itching to use.
“Keller, they're moving house in the infirmary. Why don't you go see if they could use some help?” Peter addresses Keller without taking his eyes off Caffrey.
“They got all the men they need.”
“Why don't you just make sure? I don't care where you go, as long as it's not here at this moment.”
Keller flushes, the baton hovering near his palm. He looks like he´s about to say something back, but thinks better of it.
Peter returns his attention to the new prisoner.
“If I let Jones take those chains off you, you gonna be nice?”
Caffrey nods. Clinton enters to remove Caffrey's shackles. Peter looks at the transfer papers.
“Your name is Neal Caffrey.’
“Yes, sir, like the beer.”
“My name is Peter Burke. If I'm not here, you can ask for Mr. Jones or Mr. Hughes...those gentlemen there. This isn't like the rest of the prison. It's a quiet place, we like to keep it that way.”
Caffrey considers this carefully, puzzled.
“Your time here can be easy or hard, depends on you. If you behave, you get to walk in the exercise yard every day. We might even play some music on the radio from time to time. Questions?”
“Do you leave a light on after bedtime?”
Peter blinks. It's the last thing he expected. Caffrey smiles uneasily, as if they might think him foolish for asking.
“Because I don’t like the dark sometimes. If it's a strange place.”
Peter looks to his men. The guards are trading glances.
“It's pretty bright in here all night long. We keep half the lights burning in the corridor.”
Caffrey looks confused. Peter points to the lights lining the ceiling of the Green Mile in wire mesh cages. Caffrey nods, relieved. Then he surprises everybody by offering Peter his hand, as if to show proper manners. Peter hesitates, oddly touched, then surprised his men even more by accepting. Peter steps from the cell. Clinton slides the door shut, locks it. Caffrey stands a moment as if unsure what to do, then sinks onto the cot with his hands clasped between his knees.
He looks up at Peter, his voice soft as a whisper. “Couldn't help it, sir. I tried to take it back, but it was too late.”
Peter turns, leads his men up the Mile...
* * *
After an incident Peter tells Keller to make a report to the warden.
Clinton studies Peter “What about you? You look about ready to collapse.”
“I’ve got the mile till you all get back. Go on now.”
They all exit. As soon as he´s alone, Peter gives in to the pain, holding his crotch and sinking to his knees with a moan. It is so bad he actually lays down on the Mile, face pressed against the cool linoleum, wishing he were dead.
“Sir, Please come over here.”
“This is not a good time Neal. Not a good time at all.” Peter moans.
“But I need to see you. I need to talk to you.”
Peter sighs. He rises with a supreme effort, walks painfully down the Mile and finds Neal waiting at the bars.
“Closer.”
“I´m alone here right now, Neal. Figure this is close enough.”
“Sir, please. I got to whisper in your ear.”
Peter blinks. Maybe it is the fever clouding his brain, or maybe… hell, is this what being hypnotized is like? He tries to shake the sensation off, comes a little closer.
“What do you want Neal?”
“I just want to help you.”
His hand shoots out, grabs Peter by the collar and jerks him closer. Peter makes a panic grab for his gun, but Neal lays his free hand on top of Peter´s. His hand then drifts slowly down, easing to Peter´s crotch.
Peter stays frozen in his place.
“What are you doing?” he whispers.
And then something goes through Peter´s body. He arches back with his mouth agape and arms outstretched as a rush of energy seems to pass from Peter through Neal´s hand.
And as soon it was there, it is over. Peter comes back to the real world, hanging weakly from the bars, realizing some inmate is hollering in his cell.
“HELP! Neal Caffrey is killing Boss Burke! Help!”
“Settle down, I´m fine.” He calls out.
It only dawns on him that he really is fine. The fever is gone, so is the pain in his groin. But then he realizes, Neal is not fine. He sits on his bunk, bend forward, gagging.
“Neal? Neal? What´s wrong?”
Peter fumbles with his keys, unsure if he should open the door, watching the man´s contortions grow stronger. And then it is gone.
“What did you do to me?”
“I took it away, isn´t it better?”
“Yes, but… how?”
Caffrey shrugs “I don´t know. But I am tired.”
Neal rolls onto his bunk, facing the wall. Peter just stares at him, stunned. He turns and wakes up the Mile.
* * *
Execution Chamber
There is silence when Neal is led in, all eyes on him. The family of the victims is sitting on the front row.
“Die slow, you bastard.” Is muttered.
Neal falters when Peter and Clinton bring him to the chair.
“I can feel the hate. It hurts.” He whispers.
“Feel how we feel. We don´t hate you. Can you feel that?” Clinton whispers back.
Neal tries to take comfort in it, but flinches when more hateful words are shouted at him.
Peter and Clinton turn Neal around, sit him down. Peter kneels to apply the leg clamps, while Clinton secures his arms.
They rise, step back.
Peter calls out. “Roll on one.”
A guard cranks the generator. The lights flare hotter and brighter.
“Neal Caffrey… you have been condemned to die in the electric chair by a jury of your peers. Sentence imposed by a judge in good standing in this state. Do you have anything to say before sentence is carried out?” Peter states.
Neal hesitates, nods.
“I am sorry for what I am.”
Clinton takes the mask from the hook to draw it over Caffrey´s head. Caffrey looks to Peter with terrified, pleading eyes.
“Please, sir, don’t put that thing over my face. Please.”
“All right, Neal.”
Clinton puts the mask back, proceeds with the sponge. The cap is lowered. Neal is breathing fast, terrified.
The third guard is poised at the switch, wondering why the order won´t come.
Peter is staring at Neal, unable to say the words. Clinton whispers “Peter, You have to say it. You have to give the order.”
Peter can´t. He reaches out and touches Neal´s hand. Their fingers clasp. In that moment, staring into his eyes. Their fingers disengage. Peter steps back, eyes still locked with Neal and says the hardest words he´s ever spoken.
“Roll on two.”
* * *
Peter sits straight up in bed. His breathing is erratic and his heart is pounding in his chest. It takes a moment for him to realize he is sitting in his bed.
A nightmare. It was just a nightmare.
“What´s wrong hon?” El groans next to him.
“Nothing” he whispers, not thrusting his own voice. It was just a nightmare. He gets up and slowly walks downstairs where Satchmo walks up to him to see what is wrong. He drinks some water.
While he pets Satchmo he makes a mental note for future references not to eat heavy while watching movies like The Green Mile just before going to bed.