Neal wore the nicest suit that June's wardrobe held. It was simple, black, with dark grey stripes. His tie was black and there was an uncharacteristic lack of hat. Somber and quiet, he had very little to say throughout the procession. In fact, since getting the news, Neal Caffrey hadn't had much to say at all. Inside he was angry. He felt guilt, remorse, and a need for vengeance. Behind his partner's back, he'd already had Mozzie digging.
It wasn't as if he hadn't tried to find out details before but now he was motivated by a force stronger and outside himself.
Watching as the casket was lowered, Neal's heart broke. There were hardly any attendants by the hole in the ground. Giving up her identity meant that Ellen gave up connections with the mortal world. He wasn't even sure if anyone else would lay flowers by her headstone in the years to come. That, too, made him angry. His eyes were stormy, the only betrayal that there was more than abject sadness in his heart.
"No Peter. The Marshalls let her down. I let her down. And now, no one will ever even know why Ellen was an amazing woman."
Peter watched Neal lay down some flowers by her casket. He sighed, hating to see someone he cared so deeply for in so much pain. There had been a small crowd, but not as many as Peter had hoped. Reaching out, he gently patted Neal's shoulder, a small sign of comfort for a friend and lover.
"First time I met Ellen, she slammed the door in my face," he murmured. A small chuckle followed, smiling at the fond memory. He had respected the woman ever since. "It took El's persuasion to get her to even listen to me. She was protecting you." He could see by the determination in his friend's eyes, this wasn't over. And it shouldn't be. Peter would help Neal in any way that he could.
"We can't get officially assigned to a murder case, Peter" he responded with resignation in his voice.
That resignation was entirely put on. He was going to do anything, and certainly everything, it took to find his surrogate mother's killer. That was just the way it had to be. Neal was still not entirely sure he could keep himself from killing whoever the murder was. Feeling like the ones that had roused when they were hunting Kate's killer surfaced, this time with a different, but equally dark intensity.
If Peter wanted to dig around, Neal was certainly not going to say no. Rubbing his temples, he blinked back the only hint of tears he was going to make in public. This was just too much.
"We can't, but I can speak to the Marshall's. I can make a few calls. Don't count me out yet, Neal."
He sighed and nodded his head. He knew how he would feel if his mother had been murdered. And this woman was every bit Neal's mother. So Peter would do everything he could for Neal. He had to. Neal meant the world to him and she meant the world to Neal.
"Come on. I know just the place." He reached out and put an arm around Neal's shoulders, escorting him away. "El had to go out of town. A wedding in New Jersey. The house is empty for a week. I could use some company?"
Neal had taken bereavement. Peter still worked during the day so that would leave plenty of time for him and Mozzie to meet and plot in secret over the next few days. He let Peter guide him away from the grave site, if only because he was afraid he might stand there all night otherwise.
Though, he wasn't sure he wanted to go anywhere that night that didn't involve a lot of martinis and wine.
"Sure. I'm probably going to be miserable company."
Peter nodded his head. "Sometimes I'm miserable company too. That's what we do, right? We help each other out. I know when you weren't here, I was miserable without you. You should have seen me at work. I don't want to know the things Diana and Jones might have been saying about me." It wasn't the same, but he hoped it gave Neal a smile.
"There might be a few bottles of wine at the house with your name on them." Though Peter might have asked for help. And procured some beer for himself.
"We can just talk. Or watch television and not talk. There's a special about art history on PBS. I could pretend to like it?"
It wasn't as if he hadn't tried to find out details before but now he was motivated by a force stronger and outside himself.
Watching as the casket was lowered, Neal's heart broke. There were hardly any attendants by the hole in the ground. Giving up her identity meant that Ellen gave up connections with the mortal world. He wasn't even sure if anyone else would lay flowers by her headstone in the years to come. That, too, made him angry. His eyes were stormy, the only betrayal that there was more than abject sadness in his heart.
"No Peter. The Marshalls let her down. I let her down. And now, no one will ever even know why Ellen was an amazing woman."
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"First time I met Ellen, she slammed the door in my face," he murmured. A small chuckle followed, smiling at the fond memory. He had respected the woman ever since. "It took El's persuasion to get her to even listen to me. She was protecting you." He could see by the determination in his friend's eyes, this wasn't over. And it shouldn't be. Peter would help Neal in any way that he could.
"We'll figure out who did this, Neal."
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That resignation was entirely put on. He was going to do anything, and certainly everything, it took to find his surrogate mother's killer. That was just the way it had to be. Neal was still not entirely sure he could keep himself from killing whoever the murder was. Feeling like the ones that had roused when they were hunting Kate's killer surfaced, this time with a different, but equally dark intensity.
If Peter wanted to dig around, Neal was certainly not going to say no. Rubbing his temples, he blinked back the only hint of tears he was going to make in public. This was just too much.
"I need a stiff drink."
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He sighed and nodded his head. He knew how he would feel if his mother had been murdered. And this woman was every bit Neal's mother. So Peter would do everything he could for Neal. He had to. Neal meant the world to him and she meant the world to Neal.
"Come on. I know just the place." He reached out and put an arm around Neal's shoulders, escorting him away. "El had to go out of town. A wedding in New Jersey. The house is empty for a week. I could use some company?"
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Though, he wasn't sure he wanted to go anywhere that night that didn't involve a lot of martinis and wine.
"Sure. I'm probably going to be miserable company."
Reply
"There might be a few bottles of wine at the house with your name on them." Though Peter might have asked for help. And procured some beer for himself.
"We can just talk. Or watch television and not talk. There's a special about art history on PBS. I could pretend to like it?"
Reply
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