We have Paris
Author: NYWCgirl
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: None
Characters: Peter, Neal,
Warning: Reference to the terrorist attacks in Brussels
Spoilers: none
Rating: NC-13
Genre: emotional hurt/comfort, terrorist attacks,
Author's Notes: This story fills my `Atonement´ square on my h/c bingo card. It also fills a prompt left by Sholio on collarcorner.
Word Count: ~2360
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Peter is assigned to one of the FBI´s European offices. What happens when he finds a lost loved one on the victim list?
Story can be found on AO3.
March 22nd 2016
“Peter, can I have a word please?”
“Sure.” Peter walked after AD Simmons. When they entered the office he closed the door behind him.
“You heard about the attack on the International Airport in Belgium?
“Yes, a tragic event.”
“There were American victims and I need someone there. The agents normally assigned to Europe are still working on the Paris attacks. I could really use you in Brussels, it will only be for two, max three weeks.”
“Before I accept, let me check with the home front first, as you now, my family life is changed.”
“Of course, let me know your decision ASAP.”
“I will.”
* * *
And here he was. El hadn´t made a fuss. She knew that the chance for a second attack was very slim and they had firsthand experience with terrorist attacks after 9/11. She had told Peter she would use the time to visit her family with Neal. It had made Peter feel better that El was not all alone with Neal.
Peter had flown to Schiphol where an agent was waiting for him. The agents tells him that it would be a three hour drive to Brussels. Jetlag made Peter fall asleep in the car and he didn´t wake up until they entered Brussels. Jim, the other agent explained they had booked a hotel close to the office, so Peter would be able to walk.
“I could have taken a cab.”
“Well, here in Belgium they are very expensive and not readable available. You have to pre-book them.”
“Good to know.”
“We will stop at the hotel so you can check-in and drop-off your stuff, and then we will visit the airport.”
“Thanks.”
* * *
When he arrived back at the hotel that evening, Peter walked straight to the bathroom and took a long hot shower. The destruction at the airport was immense and Peter had to distance himself from the scene to do his job.
God, he was tired, he wasn´t getting younger. But he was looking forward to a night without interruptions. He loved Neal with all his heart, but a little less during the night. He woke up at least once a night and the broken nights were taking his toll. Where was the time that he could pull an all nighter and go to work the next day without any problems?
He walked out of the bedroom and dressed in jeans and a simple button down. His temporary colleagues where taking him out to dinner. He made a quick call to El and promised to call again tomorrow. He grabbed his jacket, wallet and phone and made his way down to the lobby.
“What do you want to eat?” Marc, one of the locals asked.
“I´m hungry, something fast, local, nothing fancy.”
“We´ll grab a bite at a local bistro, you’ll like it.”
Peter had to admit, the food was delicious, the local beer even better, but he was tired. He needed sleep. The jetlag was getting the better of him.
“I´m calling it a night.” Peter announced after they finished their meal with a cup of coffee. See you tomorrow morning at eight.”
* * *
The next morning Peter started going through all the files on the victims. Not everybody had been positively been ID´ed, but a team was working on the identification of the bodies. Peter was asked to focus on the survivors. Most of them had been identified, but a couple of the more seriously injured people hadn´t. He scanned the pictures of the victim who were still in hospital. Pictures of their clothing and suspected personal belongings. Peter had to lock his personal feelings away, there was just too much hurt going through the documents. He took a break around ten to get some coffee and wandered through the hallway until he found a coffee machine.
It was still beyond him how people could do this to each other.
Later that afternoon Peter and the other agents had been able to identify one victim that was killed. Job well done, but that also mend that some family got bad news. Peter glanced over the other reports and picked the next one up. He had flipped through three or four of them, when suddenly his breath hitched.
It couldn´t be.
He carefully read the documents again. There it was.
Mister Nathan Colin, resident to the island of Martinique, currently staying in Paris.
The picture was blurry, but it was unmistakably Neal. Nathan Colin was one of the fortunate victims, he had been injured, but nothing life threatening. According to the report, Nathan had been in the check-in hall when the explosion had occurred. Some debris of the ceiling coming down had hit him on the head and shoulders. But it was mainly abrasions and contusions. Some minor hear loss, but according to the medical record the doctor expected a full recovery.
After he had been checked out, Nathan had insisted he was OK to travel and had been picked up by a relative. Peter could imagine who that had been.
The report mentioned lost carry-on, a black leather doctor style bag. There was a description of the item inside. Peter checked the database with the found personal belongings and smiled. The described bag had been recovered. Peter took note of the address where the bag had been archived.
He made his way through afternoon traffic to the evidence warehouse where he showed his credentials and the number of the item he was looking for.
It didn´t take the clerk long to find the item. Peter opened the bag to check the contents and he could feel the emotions built inside of him. The bag permeated Neal´s scent. He could feel tears building in his eyes.
It was Neal´s. Neal was alive.
Neal was alive? Seriously? He was alive and caused his friends so much pain and sorrow. He had identified Neal´s body together with Mozzie. He had attended and spoken at Neal´s funeral. Peter shook his head. How could he do this to his friend?
“We identified the owner of this bag. Can I check it out?”
“Sure, we are happy if some of these personal belongings are identified and make their way back to their owners.”
Peter quickly riffled through the bag. It was obvious Neal still had expensive taste.
“Yes, I am sure; this bag belongs to Mister Nathan Colin.”
“Perfect, we will send it to him.” The clerk started typing in the computer.
“Would you mind if I checked them out. I am heading to our Paris office and will drop it off.”
“Sure, but you will need to sign them out.”
“No problem.”
“I will need your credentials.”
Peter handed them over and the clerk finalized the paperwork. After he signed, Peter left the warehouse and decided on a whim to leave for Paris immediately. He called the office to inform them he was following a lead and headed south.
The car´s navigation system took him straight to the centre of Paris. Since there was no parking space whatsoever, he parked his car in a parking garage and walked the couple of streets back to the address mentioned in the file. It was a large nice looking apartment building.
Now what? Neal was alive but hadn´t contacted him. There was a moment of hesitation but he needed to know, so he rang the bell.
No response.
“Monsieur Colin n´est pas là.” A female voice said behind him, making him turn around.
“Sorry, I don´t speak French.”
“No problem, Mister Colin is not at home.” The elderly lady repeated.
“Thank you.”
“There is a café at the corner that he sometimes visits, maybe you can wait there?”
“Good idea, thank you.”
The lady passed him and entered the building. Peter looked around and realized that he was hungry. He checked his watch, nine o´clock. He walked over to the bistro and entered. It had a homey, relaxed atmosphere; he could understand why Neal would come here. He sat down at a table near the window and ordered some diner. While he waited, he realized that he didn´t even had a hotel. What if Neal was out of town, he should have asked that nice lady. Now that he thought about it, she reminded him of June, how did Neal do it?
The plate that was placed in front of him smelled delicious and he quickly dug in. That was until the door opened and Neal walked in. He looked around, saw Peter and gave a small confused smile before coming over.
“Can I join you?”
Here he was, in the flesh. Peter didn´t trust his own voice, so he just nodded.
Peter just stared at Neal. What was there to say? You look good for a dead man.
“Mademoiselle Denielle told me there was an American waiting for me at the bistro. Figured it could only be you. How are you Peter?”
Peter swallowed, just looking at Neal. Here he was, acting like nothing happened.
“Do you realize how much pain you caused? Do you realize how it felt when I saw a dossier on my desk this morning with your picture in it?”
Peter could see Neal pale a little. His eyes were just a tad more bright when he started talking.
“I did it to protect you guys. The Panthers have this reputation of taking care of snitches, their families, their friends. I couldn´t let that happen. I just couldn´t.”
“We could have worked something out.”
“No, we couldn´t. What would be the alternative, that we all went into Witsec? I have seen that movie Peter, it is not one I enjoyed, I couldn´t do that you and your family, June, I mean…”
Peter remained silent, letting Neal´s words sink in. He should be glad Neal was alive and having a fight with him.
“Have you eaten yet? You should, you look pale.”
“Yeah, good idea. I haven´t eaten anything since lunch.” Neal ordered something small and a glass of wine.
“Peter, I never mend to hurt any of you, on the contrary, I did it to protect you. Too many people died because of me.”
Neal looked pained and in that moment he saw the rawness in Neal´s statement. Neal truly had lost too many people that were close to him.
“By running?”
“Yeah, if my death fooled you and Mozzie, it would fool the officials and the Panthers.”
“Well, that it did, everybody was convinced, I…”
Peter shook his head to get rid of the image of Neal lying on the coroner´s table.
“I am sorry you had to go through all of that, Peter. Mozzie…”
“Mozzie is here.” It was a statement.
“Yes, he is. He stayed for some time in New York to make it more believable. But he joined me a couple of months ago. He kept me up to date and checked if someone was coming after you or June.”
Peter nodded; Neal and Mozzie had been keeping taps on everybody.
“How is your boy and El?”
Peter unconsciously smiled at the question.
“He is good, he… he changed me, more that I care to admit. And El is a wonderful mum.”
“That´s good.”
“We named him after you.” Peter says after a pause.
“So I have been told. I appreciate the honor.”
Both men finished their plates.
“Where are you staying?”
“Actually, I drove here on a whim. I am assigned to the team that is investigating the Brussels airport attack.”
“I see, that is how you found me.”
Peter nods.
“The file stated that you were injured.”
“yeah, but it was nothing too bad, just bumps and bruises. There are a lot of people that were so much worse off than me.”
“Glad you are OK.”
“Come, let´s go back to my place.”
Neal paid the check; Peter still not really used to the Euros and followed Neal back to his apartment. It was light and airy. Peter immediately felt at home.
“You want something to drink? Coffee, tea, Wine?”
“Coffee would be nice. I guess we have a lot of talking to do.”
“We do.”
* * *
“Only you could make such a dumb ass decision, Neal.” Peter sighs.
“What? I didn´t have another choice, sorry Peter, I realize I hurt a lot of people, but you guys would never be safe with me walking around. You took care of Keller, but I…”
“I understand why you did it on a rational level, and I appreciate it that you wanted to keep my family safe. But do you realize what this did to us on an emotional level. El was pregnant when we buried you Neal. We have a son that I named after you. June and Mozzie were devastated.”
Neal is staring at the floor between his feet. Peter also stays silent, they both need time to organize their thoughts so they don´t say something they will regret.
“I never wanted to hurt people Peter, you must believe me.” Neal finally says.
“I believe you, but you sometimes act before thinking things through. This is one of those moments. And again, I know and understand why you did it, but that doesn’t make it right.”
“I can´t undo the things I did.”
“I know.”
After they talk into the small hours of the night, Peter suggests they grab some sleep before they both have to turn up at work in a couple of hours. Before Peter leaves to go to his hotel, Neal has one question left.
“Are we good?”
“Yes we are. Are you coming with me back home?”
Neal looks up when Peter mentioned the word home. He then slowly shakes his head.
“No, I can´t… I won´t jeopardize your family, … my family.”
A hurt look flashes over Peter´s face, but he quickly hides it.
“I understand. Maybe we can come visit the beautiful city of light with the family. El probably wants Neal to learn how to speak French. What better way than his uncle Neal to teach him.”
“That would be nice. You know where to find me.”
“I do. And I am glad that I do.”
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: None
Characters: Peter, Neal,
Warning: Reference to the terrorist attacks in Brussels
Spoilers: none
Rating: NC-13
Genre: emotional hurt/comfort, terrorist attacks,
Author's Notes: This story fills my `Atonement´ square on my h/c bingo card. It also fills a prompt left by Sholio on collarcorner.
Word Count: ~2360
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Peter is assigned to one of the FBI´s European offices. What happens when he finds a lost loved one on the victim list?
Story can be found on AO3.
March 22nd 2016
“Peter, can I have a word please?”
“Sure.” Peter walked after AD Simmons. When they entered the office he closed the door behind him.
“You heard about the attack on the International Airport in Belgium?
“Yes, a tragic event.”
“There were American victims and I need someone there. The agents normally assigned to Europe are still working on the Paris attacks. I could really use you in Brussels, it will only be for two, max three weeks.”
“Before I accept, let me check with the home front first, as you now, my family life is changed.”
“Of course, let me know your decision ASAP.”
“I will.”
* * *
And here he was. El hadn´t made a fuss. She knew that the chance for a second attack was very slim and they had firsthand experience with terrorist attacks after 9/11. She had told Peter she would use the time to visit her family with Neal. It had made Peter feel better that El was not all alone with Neal.
Peter had flown to Schiphol where an agent was waiting for him. The agents tells him that it would be a three hour drive to Brussels. Jetlag made Peter fall asleep in the car and he didn´t wake up until they entered Brussels. Jim, the other agent explained they had booked a hotel close to the office, so Peter would be able to walk.
“I could have taken a cab.”
“Well, here in Belgium they are very expensive and not readable available. You have to pre-book them.”
“Good to know.”
“We will stop at the hotel so you can check-in and drop-off your stuff, and then we will visit the airport.”
“Thanks.”
* * *
When he arrived back at the hotel that evening, Peter walked straight to the bathroom and took a long hot shower. The destruction at the airport was immense and Peter had to distance himself from the scene to do his job.
God, he was tired, he wasn´t getting younger. But he was looking forward to a night without interruptions. He loved Neal with all his heart, but a little less during the night. He woke up at least once a night and the broken nights were taking his toll. Where was the time that he could pull an all nighter and go to work the next day without any problems?
He walked out of the bedroom and dressed in jeans and a simple button down. His temporary colleagues where taking him out to dinner. He made a quick call to El and promised to call again tomorrow. He grabbed his jacket, wallet and phone and made his way down to the lobby.
“What do you want to eat?” Marc, one of the locals asked.
“I´m hungry, something fast, local, nothing fancy.”
“We´ll grab a bite at a local bistro, you’ll like it.”
Peter had to admit, the food was delicious, the local beer even better, but he was tired. He needed sleep. The jetlag was getting the better of him.
“I´m calling it a night.” Peter announced after they finished their meal with a cup of coffee. See you tomorrow morning at eight.”
* * *
The next morning Peter started going through all the files on the victims. Not everybody had been positively been ID´ed, but a team was working on the identification of the bodies. Peter was asked to focus on the survivors. Most of them had been identified, but a couple of the more seriously injured people hadn´t. He scanned the pictures of the victim who were still in hospital. Pictures of their clothing and suspected personal belongings. Peter had to lock his personal feelings away, there was just too much hurt going through the documents. He took a break around ten to get some coffee and wandered through the hallway until he found a coffee machine.
It was still beyond him how people could do this to each other.
Later that afternoon Peter and the other agents had been able to identify one victim that was killed. Job well done, but that also mend that some family got bad news. Peter glanced over the other reports and picked the next one up. He had flipped through three or four of them, when suddenly his breath hitched.
It couldn´t be.
He carefully read the documents again. There it was.
Mister Nathan Colin, resident to the island of Martinique, currently staying in Paris.
The picture was blurry, but it was unmistakably Neal. Nathan Colin was one of the fortunate victims, he had been injured, but nothing life threatening. According to the report, Nathan had been in the check-in hall when the explosion had occurred. Some debris of the ceiling coming down had hit him on the head and shoulders. But it was mainly abrasions and contusions. Some minor hear loss, but according to the medical record the doctor expected a full recovery.
After he had been checked out, Nathan had insisted he was OK to travel and had been picked up by a relative. Peter could imagine who that had been.
The report mentioned lost carry-on, a black leather doctor style bag. There was a description of the item inside. Peter checked the database with the found personal belongings and smiled. The described bag had been recovered. Peter took note of the address where the bag had been archived.
He made his way through afternoon traffic to the evidence warehouse where he showed his credentials and the number of the item he was looking for.
It didn´t take the clerk long to find the item. Peter opened the bag to check the contents and he could feel the emotions built inside of him. The bag permeated Neal´s scent. He could feel tears building in his eyes.
It was Neal´s. Neal was alive.
Neal was alive? Seriously? He was alive and caused his friends so much pain and sorrow. He had identified Neal´s body together with Mozzie. He had attended and spoken at Neal´s funeral. Peter shook his head. How could he do this to his friend?
“We identified the owner of this bag. Can I check it out?”
“Sure, we are happy if some of these personal belongings are identified and make their way back to their owners.”
Peter quickly riffled through the bag. It was obvious Neal still had expensive taste.
“Yes, I am sure; this bag belongs to Mister Nathan Colin.”
“Perfect, we will send it to him.” The clerk started typing in the computer.
“Would you mind if I checked them out. I am heading to our Paris office and will drop it off.”
“Sure, but you will need to sign them out.”
“No problem.”
“I will need your credentials.”
Peter handed them over and the clerk finalized the paperwork. After he signed, Peter left the warehouse and decided on a whim to leave for Paris immediately. He called the office to inform them he was following a lead and headed south.
The car´s navigation system took him straight to the centre of Paris. Since there was no parking space whatsoever, he parked his car in a parking garage and walked the couple of streets back to the address mentioned in the file. It was a large nice looking apartment building.
Now what? Neal was alive but hadn´t contacted him. There was a moment of hesitation but he needed to know, so he rang the bell.
No response.
“Monsieur Colin n´est pas là.” A female voice said behind him, making him turn around.
“Sorry, I don´t speak French.”
“No problem, Mister Colin is not at home.” The elderly lady repeated.
“Thank you.”
“There is a café at the corner that he sometimes visits, maybe you can wait there?”
“Good idea, thank you.”
The lady passed him and entered the building. Peter looked around and realized that he was hungry. He checked his watch, nine o´clock. He walked over to the bistro and entered. It had a homey, relaxed atmosphere; he could understand why Neal would come here. He sat down at a table near the window and ordered some diner. While he waited, he realized that he didn´t even had a hotel. What if Neal was out of town, he should have asked that nice lady. Now that he thought about it, she reminded him of June, how did Neal do it?
The plate that was placed in front of him smelled delicious and he quickly dug in. That was until the door opened and Neal walked in. He looked around, saw Peter and gave a small confused smile before coming over.
“Can I join you?”
Here he was, in the flesh. Peter didn´t trust his own voice, so he just nodded.
Peter just stared at Neal. What was there to say? You look good for a dead man.
“Mademoiselle Denielle told me there was an American waiting for me at the bistro. Figured it could only be you. How are you Peter?”
Peter swallowed, just looking at Neal. Here he was, acting like nothing happened.
“Do you realize how much pain you caused? Do you realize how it felt when I saw a dossier on my desk this morning with your picture in it?”
Peter could see Neal pale a little. His eyes were just a tad more bright when he started talking.
“I did it to protect you guys. The Panthers have this reputation of taking care of snitches, their families, their friends. I couldn´t let that happen. I just couldn´t.”
“We could have worked something out.”
“No, we couldn´t. What would be the alternative, that we all went into Witsec? I have seen that movie Peter, it is not one I enjoyed, I couldn´t do that you and your family, June, I mean…”
Peter remained silent, letting Neal´s words sink in. He should be glad Neal was alive and having a fight with him.
“Have you eaten yet? You should, you look pale.”
“Yeah, good idea. I haven´t eaten anything since lunch.” Neal ordered something small and a glass of wine.
“Peter, I never mend to hurt any of you, on the contrary, I did it to protect you. Too many people died because of me.”
Neal looked pained and in that moment he saw the rawness in Neal´s statement. Neal truly had lost too many people that were close to him.
“By running?”
“Yeah, if my death fooled you and Mozzie, it would fool the officials and the Panthers.”
“Well, that it did, everybody was convinced, I…”
Peter shook his head to get rid of the image of Neal lying on the coroner´s table.
“I am sorry you had to go through all of that, Peter. Mozzie…”
“Mozzie is here.” It was a statement.
“Yes, he is. He stayed for some time in New York to make it more believable. But he joined me a couple of months ago. He kept me up to date and checked if someone was coming after you or June.”
Peter nodded; Neal and Mozzie had been keeping taps on everybody.
“How is your boy and El?”
Peter unconsciously smiled at the question.
“He is good, he… he changed me, more that I care to admit. And El is a wonderful mum.”
“That´s good.”
“We named him after you.” Peter says after a pause.
“So I have been told. I appreciate the honor.”
Both men finished their plates.
“Where are you staying?”
“Actually, I drove here on a whim. I am assigned to the team that is investigating the Brussels airport attack.”
“I see, that is how you found me.”
Peter nods.
“The file stated that you were injured.”
“yeah, but it was nothing too bad, just bumps and bruises. There are a lot of people that were so much worse off than me.”
“Glad you are OK.”
“Come, let´s go back to my place.”
Neal paid the check; Peter still not really used to the Euros and followed Neal back to his apartment. It was light and airy. Peter immediately felt at home.
“You want something to drink? Coffee, tea, Wine?”
“Coffee would be nice. I guess we have a lot of talking to do.”
“We do.”
* * *
“Only you could make such a dumb ass decision, Neal.” Peter sighs.
“What? I didn´t have another choice, sorry Peter, I realize I hurt a lot of people, but you guys would never be safe with me walking around. You took care of Keller, but I…”
“I understand why you did it on a rational level, and I appreciate it that you wanted to keep my family safe. But do you realize what this did to us on an emotional level. El was pregnant when we buried you Neal. We have a son that I named after you. June and Mozzie were devastated.”
Neal is staring at the floor between his feet. Peter also stays silent, they both need time to organize their thoughts so they don´t say something they will regret.
“I never wanted to hurt people Peter, you must believe me.” Neal finally says.
“I believe you, but you sometimes act before thinking things through. This is one of those moments. And again, I know and understand why you did it, but that doesn’t make it right.”
“I can´t undo the things I did.”
“I know.”
After they talk into the small hours of the night, Peter suggests they grab some sleep before they both have to turn up at work in a couple of hours. Before Peter leaves to go to his hotel, Neal has one question left.
“Are we good?”
“Yes we are. Are you coming with me back home?”
Neal looks up when Peter mentioned the word home. He then slowly shakes his head.
“No, I can´t… I won´t jeopardize your family, … my family.”
A hurt look flashes over Peter´s face, but he quickly hides it.
“I understand. Maybe we can come visit the beautiful city of light with the family. El probably wants Neal to learn how to speak French. What better way than his uncle Neal to teach him.”
“That would be nice. You know where to find me.”
“I do. And I am glad that I do.”