The Manchurian Candidate
Author: NYWCgirl
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: None
Characters: Neal, Peter, El, June, Mozzie
Warning: none yet.
Spoilers: none
Rating: PG
Genre: Alternate universe, (emotional) hurt/comfort, mind control, hypnosis,
Author's Notes: This story fills the ´Telepathic trauma´ on my h/c bingo card
DMA = Dallas Museum of Art
Word Count: ~ WIP - 1970 (first chapter)
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Mozzie knows something is not right with Neal and tries to find out the truth, but who can he trust and will he be in time before Neal self destructs?
Story can also be found on AO3.
Chapter 1: End of Level 3
“I tell you Frank, he is not ready.” Peter got up from his chair and started pacing the room.
He had been called in by his superior at the agency, Frank Devlin. Sometimes he doubted his work, but the higher ups were always able to convince him that he was doing the right thing for the greater good. He was one of the best handlers they had and he had led at least 4 successful charges to their mission, which was impressive, even Peter had to admit that.
“He is Peter and you know it. I received reports from Elizabeth and June and they tested him. He performed all the tasks they asked him to. He didn´t hesitate, he just carried them out when he was asked. All progress reports indicate he is ready for the next level. We monitored him long enough; it´s time to recall him for further programming.”
Peter sighed, there was nothing he could do, he was convinced the subject needed more time to establish himself, but the agency wanted to push his programming. His IQ was definitely high enough, so that wouldn´t pose any problem. He was by all means the perfect candidate, intelligent, good looking, in excellent condition.
“Just tell me where and when.”
“You will receive instruction when you leave.”
* * *
Peter had told Neal they had been asked to consult on a case in Dallas. A painting was stolen from the DMA and they would assist the Dallas Art Crime team. Neal had been excited to leave his two miles radius. It had been a while, so he resembled a kid in a candy store.
Peter had dropped him off at June´s, with the instruction to be ready the next morning at six in the morning.
When Neal entered the house, he called out to June that he was home and climbed the stairs to his apartment. June called back that she had saved dinner for him.
“I will freshen up and come back downstairs.”
He took a quick shower, dressed casual and descended the stairs. Dinner was already on the table. Neal walked up to June and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, before sitting down.
“What´s for dinner?” he smiled at June, while lifting the lid of the pot.
“Your favorite… Blood sausage with apple sauce.”
June studied Neal´s expression, but it didn´t show anything but joy.
“Great, I really love it.”
“I know you do, sweetheart, where did you learn to eat it? It is not something common, I had to ask François from BXL Zoute to make it for you.”
“Thanks June, I learned to eat it when I, allegedly, spent some time looking for a Rubens.”
June smiled.
She placed some of the sausage on Neal´s plate and scooped up some apple sauce and handed him the freshly baked bread. Neal ate with gusto.
When they were finished, Maria brought some fresh coffee and some red velvet brownies, again Neal´s favorite.
“You spoil me, June. Where would I have been, if I hadn´t met you in that thrift store?”
June gave him a small smile. Probably living an ordinary life, she thought.
* * *
October 2009
June had been given instructions to pick up her new charge. His handler had made sure he was in the thrift store. When she entered, she saw him going through some clothing rack.
“I've come to donate these.”
“Hmm... Men's suits.” The store clerk stated dryly.
June could see him slowly making his way up to her.
“Those are fantastic.” He spoke up.
“They belonged to my late husband” She lied easily.
“Oh!”
She needed to save this, she didn´t want the boy to feel pity for her.
“....Byron. He really did have great taste in clothes.”
“Oh!... May I?”
He accepted the handed jacket.
“Thank you.” He studied the label. “This is a Devore.”
Lord, what did these people at the facility come up with? What young man would know these things without being gay? She really needed to talk to the programmers.
“Yes. He won it from Sy himself.”
“Won it?”
“He beat him at a backdoor draw.”
“Your husband played poker with Sy Devore?”
“He certainly did. And so did I.”
“No?”
OK, time to close this deal. June thought. Let´s see if I can lure him with me.
“Yes. The guys would even let me sit in once in a while on a hand. And I was good. I' m glad to see you appreciate these. I was hoping someone would. I've got a whole closet full of them.”
“A whole closet?”
“Well, actually, it's a guest room, but, uh, but I haven't used it for anything except storage for years. Byron used to wear that one whenever we went dancing. The neighborhood was... let's say it was much nicer then.”
“You live nearby?”
Hook, line and sinker. He bought her story, or better, the instructions written in his personality did work. This candidate was special and the agency wanted to keep him close, without keeping him at the Facility. His handler agent Peter Burke had picked him up from jail, or so was their charge made to believe. The programmers had made up a story where he had a history with his handler and he had spent the last four years in jail, little did he know that he had only spent the last couple of hours there, long enough to be picked up by Peter Burke. And here he was in all his glory.
“Not far.” She answered.
Neal just smiled. And so did June. The first step in level three had been completed.
* * *
The present
The next morning, Neal was up and having breakfast when Peter came in fifteen minutes early.
“Want some breakfast?” June asked. “There is more than enough.”
“That would be lovely, June, thanks.”
Peter sat down with Neal and poured himself some coffee.
“What was stolen?” Neal asked.
“Venus and two cupids, by Jan van Scorel.”
“Never heard of it, and why did they need our expertise?”
“I thought you would be thrilled to leave New York.” Peter looked a bit taken aback.
“I am, I am.” Neal assured.
“Ok, finish up, so we catch our flight in time.”
* * *
When they arrived in Dallas, it was eleven in the morning, so Peter suggested they have lunch before they would go to the office. They picked up the rental car and drove off in search for a restaurant Neal would approve of. They finally settled for a nice looking Italian family restaurant and had lunch.
When they got back in the car, Peter said the trigger and Neal just stared blankly ahead. The trigger Peter had mentioned made sure Neal was relaxed and conscious, but not aware. Peter started the car and drove to Doctors Hospital. He told Neal that they had an appointment with the sleep center, and Neal exited the car without further comments or questions.
“Good afternoon agent Burke, so this is our new charge?”
“Yes, Neal Caffrey, I guess you have everything you need in his Call file?”
“Yes, we are good to go. Mister Caffrey, follow me, please.”
Neal followed the doctor into one of the examination rooms.
Peter knew this would take a couple of hours and they would call him to pick up Neal, so he left the hospital and checked in the hotel the agency had booked for him. He freshened up, got in some casual clothing and decided to go have a beer.
Peter remembered the first time he met his new charge.
September 2009
He had handled other subjects to successful missions and this candidate was promising, so they assigned Neal Caffrey to Peter. Of course, his name was not Neal Caffrey, it was the personality they had written for him. The candidate had undergone a successful level 2 programming and it was now up to Peter to guide their charge, until they needed him. To Neal it would seem that they had known each other for years.
Peter psyched himself up and walked into the apartment building.
“I see Kate moved out.”
“She leave you a message in that?”
“The bottle is the message.”
“It's been a while.”
“Yeah.”
“A few years, give or take.”
“You carrying?”
Peter was informed that they had written an non violent personality in the level 2, but peter just wanted to make sure and it was sort of protocol to ask.
“You know I don't like guns.”
“They ask me, what makes a guy like you pull a boneheaded escape with four months to go?”
“I guess you figured it out”.
“Kate says "adios" to you at prison, then gets busy with her disappearing act. Her trail ends here.But you already know that.”
“I missed her by two days.”
If she had existed, Peter thought.
“Still it only took you a month and a half to escape a supermax. Damn impressive.”
Peter took out his radio and signaled “All clear. Subject identified and unarmed.”
“Are we surrounded? How many?”
Peter kept Neal talking. He was impressed by the younger man. He now understood why they valued this candidate. He was bright, he could do great things in the right hands.
Present
Peter was shaken from his day dreaming when his telephone rang.
“Burke.”
“We are done for today, will you pick him up or do we keep him here?”
“I´ll pick him up. Be there in thirty minutes.”
* * *
When they arrived back at the hotel, Neal was exhausted.
“Are you OK?” Peter asked, his voice laced with concern.
“I´m fine, just a headache.”
“Why don´t you lay down and I will wake you when it is time for dinner.”
“I guess I will take a shower and then lay down.” Neal walked to the bathroom and undressed. When he looked in the mirror, he pulled the band aid on his side off. Underneath was a small wound. He had fallen and hit a chair. The doctor had just glued it shut and it was healing well. He couldn´t exactly remember the fall, but he remembered being in the ER, the nurse taking care of it. The wound itself was small but needed cleaning, so Peter had brought him to the ER.
Neal took a quick shower, dried himself off, pulled on some boxers and took an Advil. He then crawled under the covers. Peter had left the room, probably to get a drink in the bar. That was OK, his head felt like it was about to explode, as if it was filled up to capacity. He just needed to rest a bit, and he would feel better.
“Hi Neal, how are you doing?”
“Very well doctor Green. Thank you.”
“We would like to continue where we left off.”
“OK?”
Neal looked a bit unsure. He trusted the doctor, but he couldn´t remember where they left off.
“Relax Neal… 845alpha6455sigma053.”
Neal relaxed completely.
“Neal, I want you to pay attention to my voice, OK? Listen to my voice and relax.”
Neal woke with a start. He was breathing heavily and looked around frantically. He scanned the room until his eyes fell on Peter. He just came in from the bathroom.
“Are you OK?” Peter asked concerned.
“Yes, just a bad dream.”
“Care to tell?”
“No, come to think of it, I can´t even remember.”
“Happens to me all the time.” Peter smiled. “I have the greatest dream and when I wake up, I can only remember that the dream was great but I don´t remember any details. How is your head?”
“Better. Let me just put on some clothes. I´m famished.”
“Great, let´s go.”
Neal walked into the bathroom and he didn´t see the strange questionable look Peter gave him.
Continue to chapter 2.
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: None
Characters: Neal, Peter, El, June, Mozzie
Warning: none yet.
Spoilers: none
Rating: PG
Genre: Alternate universe, (emotional) hurt/comfort, mind control, hypnosis,
Author's Notes: This story fills the ´Telepathic trauma´ on my h/c bingo card
DMA = Dallas Museum of Art
Word Count: ~ WIP - 1970 (first chapter)
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Mozzie knows something is not right with Neal and tries to find out the truth, but who can he trust and will he be in time before Neal self destructs?
Story can also be found on AO3.
Chapter 1: End of Level 3
“I tell you Frank, he is not ready.” Peter got up from his chair and started pacing the room.
He had been called in by his superior at the agency, Frank Devlin. Sometimes he doubted his work, but the higher ups were always able to convince him that he was doing the right thing for the greater good. He was one of the best handlers they had and he had led at least 4 successful charges to their mission, which was impressive, even Peter had to admit that.
“He is Peter and you know it. I received reports from Elizabeth and June and they tested him. He performed all the tasks they asked him to. He didn´t hesitate, he just carried them out when he was asked. All progress reports indicate he is ready for the next level. We monitored him long enough; it´s time to recall him for further programming.”
Peter sighed, there was nothing he could do, he was convinced the subject needed more time to establish himself, but the agency wanted to push his programming. His IQ was definitely high enough, so that wouldn´t pose any problem. He was by all means the perfect candidate, intelligent, good looking, in excellent condition.
“Just tell me where and when.”
“You will receive instruction when you leave.”
* * *
Peter had told Neal they had been asked to consult on a case in Dallas. A painting was stolen from the DMA and they would assist the Dallas Art Crime team. Neal had been excited to leave his two miles radius. It had been a while, so he resembled a kid in a candy store.
Peter had dropped him off at June´s, with the instruction to be ready the next morning at six in the morning.
When Neal entered the house, he called out to June that he was home and climbed the stairs to his apartment. June called back that she had saved dinner for him.
“I will freshen up and come back downstairs.”
He took a quick shower, dressed casual and descended the stairs. Dinner was already on the table. Neal walked up to June and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, before sitting down.
“What´s for dinner?” he smiled at June, while lifting the lid of the pot.
“Your favorite… Blood sausage with apple sauce.”
June studied Neal´s expression, but it didn´t show anything but joy.
“Great, I really love it.”
“I know you do, sweetheart, where did you learn to eat it? It is not something common, I had to ask François from BXL Zoute to make it for you.”
“Thanks June, I learned to eat it when I, allegedly, spent some time looking for a Rubens.”
June smiled.
She placed some of the sausage on Neal´s plate and scooped up some apple sauce and handed him the freshly baked bread. Neal ate with gusto.
When they were finished, Maria brought some fresh coffee and some red velvet brownies, again Neal´s favorite.
“You spoil me, June. Where would I have been, if I hadn´t met you in that thrift store?”
June gave him a small smile. Probably living an ordinary life, she thought.
* * *
October 2009
June had been given instructions to pick up her new charge. His handler had made sure he was in the thrift store. When she entered, she saw him going through some clothing rack.
“I've come to donate these.”
“Hmm... Men's suits.” The store clerk stated dryly.
June could see him slowly making his way up to her.
“Those are fantastic.” He spoke up.
“They belonged to my late husband” She lied easily.
“Oh!”
She needed to save this, she didn´t want the boy to feel pity for her.
“....Byron. He really did have great taste in clothes.”
“Oh!... May I?”
He accepted the handed jacket.
“Thank you.” He studied the label. “This is a Devore.”
Lord, what did these people at the facility come up with? What young man would know these things without being gay? She really needed to talk to the programmers.
“Yes. He won it from Sy himself.”
“Won it?”
“He beat him at a backdoor draw.”
“Your husband played poker with Sy Devore?”
“He certainly did. And so did I.”
“No?”
OK, time to close this deal. June thought. Let´s see if I can lure him with me.
“Yes. The guys would even let me sit in once in a while on a hand. And I was good. I' m glad to see you appreciate these. I was hoping someone would. I've got a whole closet full of them.”
“A whole closet?”
“Well, actually, it's a guest room, but, uh, but I haven't used it for anything except storage for years. Byron used to wear that one whenever we went dancing. The neighborhood was... let's say it was much nicer then.”
“You live nearby?”
Hook, line and sinker. He bought her story, or better, the instructions written in his personality did work. This candidate was special and the agency wanted to keep him close, without keeping him at the Facility. His handler agent Peter Burke had picked him up from jail, or so was their charge made to believe. The programmers had made up a story where he had a history with his handler and he had spent the last four years in jail, little did he know that he had only spent the last couple of hours there, long enough to be picked up by Peter Burke. And here he was in all his glory.
“Not far.” She answered.
Neal just smiled. And so did June. The first step in level three had been completed.
* * *
The present
The next morning, Neal was up and having breakfast when Peter came in fifteen minutes early.
“Want some breakfast?” June asked. “There is more than enough.”
“That would be lovely, June, thanks.”
Peter sat down with Neal and poured himself some coffee.
“What was stolen?” Neal asked.
“Venus and two cupids, by Jan van Scorel.”
“Never heard of it, and why did they need our expertise?”
“I thought you would be thrilled to leave New York.” Peter looked a bit taken aback.
“I am, I am.” Neal assured.
“Ok, finish up, so we catch our flight in time.”
* * *
When they arrived in Dallas, it was eleven in the morning, so Peter suggested they have lunch before they would go to the office. They picked up the rental car and drove off in search for a restaurant Neal would approve of. They finally settled for a nice looking Italian family restaurant and had lunch.
When they got back in the car, Peter said the trigger and Neal just stared blankly ahead. The trigger Peter had mentioned made sure Neal was relaxed and conscious, but not aware. Peter started the car and drove to Doctors Hospital. He told Neal that they had an appointment with the sleep center, and Neal exited the car without further comments or questions.
“Good afternoon agent Burke, so this is our new charge?”
“Yes, Neal Caffrey, I guess you have everything you need in his Call file?”
“Yes, we are good to go. Mister Caffrey, follow me, please.”
Neal followed the doctor into one of the examination rooms.
Peter knew this would take a couple of hours and they would call him to pick up Neal, so he left the hospital and checked in the hotel the agency had booked for him. He freshened up, got in some casual clothing and decided to go have a beer.
Peter remembered the first time he met his new charge.
September 2009
He had handled other subjects to successful missions and this candidate was promising, so they assigned Neal Caffrey to Peter. Of course, his name was not Neal Caffrey, it was the personality they had written for him. The candidate had undergone a successful level 2 programming and it was now up to Peter to guide their charge, until they needed him. To Neal it would seem that they had known each other for years.
Peter psyched himself up and walked into the apartment building.
“I see Kate moved out.”
“She leave you a message in that?”
“The bottle is the message.”
“It's been a while.”
“Yeah.”
“A few years, give or take.”
“You carrying?”
Peter was informed that they had written an non violent personality in the level 2, but peter just wanted to make sure and it was sort of protocol to ask.
“You know I don't like guns.”
“They ask me, what makes a guy like you pull a boneheaded escape with four months to go?”
“I guess you figured it out”.
“Kate says "adios" to you at prison, then gets busy with her disappearing act. Her trail ends here.But you already know that.”
“I missed her by two days.”
If she had existed, Peter thought.
“Still it only took you a month and a half to escape a supermax. Damn impressive.”
Peter took out his radio and signaled “All clear. Subject identified and unarmed.”
“Are we surrounded? How many?”
Peter kept Neal talking. He was impressed by the younger man. He now understood why they valued this candidate. He was bright, he could do great things in the right hands.
Present
Peter was shaken from his day dreaming when his telephone rang.
“Burke.”
“We are done for today, will you pick him up or do we keep him here?”
“I´ll pick him up. Be there in thirty minutes.”
* * *
When they arrived back at the hotel, Neal was exhausted.
“Are you OK?” Peter asked, his voice laced with concern.
“I´m fine, just a headache.”
“Why don´t you lay down and I will wake you when it is time for dinner.”
“I guess I will take a shower and then lay down.” Neal walked to the bathroom and undressed. When he looked in the mirror, he pulled the band aid on his side off. Underneath was a small wound. He had fallen and hit a chair. The doctor had just glued it shut and it was healing well. He couldn´t exactly remember the fall, but he remembered being in the ER, the nurse taking care of it. The wound itself was small but needed cleaning, so Peter had brought him to the ER.
Neal took a quick shower, dried himself off, pulled on some boxers and took an Advil. He then crawled under the covers. Peter had left the room, probably to get a drink in the bar. That was OK, his head felt like it was about to explode, as if it was filled up to capacity. He just needed to rest a bit, and he would feel better.
“Hi Neal, how are you doing?”
“Very well doctor Green. Thank you.”
“We would like to continue where we left off.”
“OK?”
Neal looked a bit unsure. He trusted the doctor, but he couldn´t remember where they left off.
“Relax Neal… 845alpha6455sigma053.”
Neal relaxed completely.
“Neal, I want you to pay attention to my voice, OK? Listen to my voice and relax.”
Neal woke with a start. He was breathing heavily and looked around frantically. He scanned the room until his eyes fell on Peter. He just came in from the bathroom.
“Are you OK?” Peter asked concerned.
“Yes, just a bad dream.”
“Care to tell?”
“No, come to think of it, I can´t even remember.”
“Happens to me all the time.” Peter smiled. “I have the greatest dream and when I wake up, I can only remember that the dream was great but I don´t remember any details. How is your head?”
“Better. Let me just put on some clothes. I´m famished.”
“Great, let´s go.”
Neal walked into the bathroom and he didn´t see the strange questionable look Peter gave him.
Continue to chapter 2.