Fic: The End and the Beginning (4/9)
Title: The End and the Beginning (4/9)
Author: reve_silencieux
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Neal, Peter, Sara, Mozzie, Jones, Elizabeth, OFC (N/S)
Spoilers: Season Five
Warnings: Spoilery (highlight to read) Permanent Injury - Paralysis
Word Count: 49,000 (This chapter: 5652)
Beta: sapphire2309
Summary: Five years after the events of The Last Con, Peter and Jones stumble across a case that opens up old wounds.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Sara brushed some hair out of her eyes and glanced between the papers in front of her and the computer monitor. Sighing, she stabbed at the limp salad in its plastic container, wondering where the day had gone. She was used to long hours. She usually never minded them, even when long hours turned into weekends, but now things were different. Summer was just starting. She was looking forward to it, now that Madeline was at an age to enjoy it.
She had never thought of herself as a maternal person, but Neal's joy was infectious. There were no words to describe how much she loved her daughter. She might not have envisioned having children when she was younger, but she’d never expected her life to turn out the way it had either.
It wasn’t an easy life, certainly not perfect, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Her cell phone rang, flashing Neal’s name on the screen. She felt bad that he had to take care of everything by himself today, as he had been doing for the past week because of the case, but she knew he enjoyed the time he got alone with Madeline. Years ago, she never would have guessed that a little girl would have Neal Caffrey wrapped around her finger, but he adored her so much.
That made her all the more happy that they’d been given the chance to start a family. After losing nearly everything, she hadn’t been sure that they’d be able to-much less that they’d want to-considering the circumstances. It was after things settled down and they got married that they finally decided to try.
“Please tell me she didn’t guilt you into buying her ice cream again,” she teased, glancing at the framed photo of Neal and Madeline on her desk.
With his next words, she felt all the blood drain from her face.
It was nearly two hours later when Neal and Erin finally entered the US Marshals office. After Neal’s call, she’d waited anxiously for a Marshal to pick her up at her office, even though she’d wanted to drive out to the grocery store right that second. But she understood that there was protocol to follow, precautions to be taken. She didn’t like it, but she had no choice in the matter.
It had been harder to sit and wait, with no one able to tell her anything. When she saw Neal arrive by himself, it hit her like a punch to her stomach.
Her little girl was gone.
She knew her mother had always wondered what she could have done, what had made Emily run away, but Sara hadn’t expected to feel the sheer terror of the unknown herself.
Neal was in her arms a moment later, and she let herself break down, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry… so sorry…” he whispered over and over. They sat there, frozen in the moment, crying and clutching each other tightly. She crawled into his lap and held onto him as though he was going to disappear too. She couldn’t handle that. Not now. She needed him, needed his calming voice and tender touch because her world was crumbling around her.
She was used to being the tough one, holding her head up high and shoring up her defenses against anything or anyone that could hurt her. The pain of loss had become the rule instead of the exception in her life, from an early age. Perhaps it had made her a cynical and distrustful person. People thought of her as a bitch, but she's not sure she could have made it this far otherwise.
Today though... the strength that had helped her through so much over the years had evaporated, threatening to leave her a shell of the person she'd always known.
She could barely comprehend how it happened, despite the fear they’d lived with every day for the past four years. Some days she managed to forget. Then she’d catch herself watching for a tail or shielding herself from a camera's eye.
There would be no rest, no happy ending for them because it would never end. And now they'd brought their innocent daughter into it.
Sara straightened up and swiped at her eyes when she caught movement a few feet away. Erin stood there, waiting patiently, allowing them their grief, but they had to talk. She wanted-no, needed to know more. Standing up, she adjusted her clothes quickly, pulled herself together, because she might have lost her strength but she wouldn't let them take anything else away from her.
They followed Erin into a conference room. It was small and private, and it looked the same as it did four years ago. There were no windows, because if they weren’t safe out there, then at least they were supposed to feel safe here. But that didn’t reassure her, not right now. Erin moved a chair away from the table for Neal before taking a seat across from them. Sara eyed the folder in the woman's hands. Her stomach clenched. She was both anxious and afraid to see what was in there. Did she want to see photos of her daughter being led away, alone and scared?
Erin paused, her hand resting on top of the pale blue folder, looked at them uneasily. “We have the video from the grocery store and we isolated the man that took your daughter. They left in a crowd of people, so we don't have a clear shot of them, but the techs have footage of him entering the building. They've identified his car. The police are out looking for it, as well as broadcasting it in the Amber Alert.”
“You don't have the license plate, do you?” Neal asked, leaning forward and reached for the folder, but didn’t open it right away. There was no sign of the emotional father from just moments before, his tone all business, and Sara suddenly wondered if they had to deal with it as if it was a case. But it hurt too much to think that way, this was their daughter.
“No, we can only tell the make and model from the video.”
Neal closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Color?”
She grimaced slightly. “The video outside the store was black and white. All we can say is dark at this point.”
“Traffic cameras?”
Shaking her head, she replied, “This isn’t New York City, I’m afraid. We only have cameras on the highway. But we are monitoring them and checking the red light cameras.” Erin reached over to open the folder. She pushed aside a few photos before pulling out a still of a car. “His car had a few identifying marks that we’re looking for-bumper stickers, a dented fender.”
Neal opened his eyes and stared at the photo for several beats then nodded numbly. He shuffled through the photos slowly, stopping at a color one from inside the store. She couldn’t see it, but her imagination filled in the blanks. Before she could gather the strength to look at them herself, he dropped the photos on the table. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. His hands rested on his wheels and he tapped them absently, his eyes still locked on the folder.
Sara watched him wearily, knowing that this was the time when he'd normally go about doing his own thing, ignoring all the rules that law enforcement had to abide by. But he couldn't now. It wasn’t just because of the chair, though. They were on lockdown. The Marshals weren’t going to let them out of their sight. Neal couldn’t slip out unnoticed and there was no Mozzie to call for help or a distraction.
She knew that it was killing him, to sit back and wait. There weren’t many times that he was visibly frustrated by the wheelchair, but today it was all coming to a head.
He tried so hard not to rely on other people. She’d had to bite her tongue too many times to count as he fought his body and people’s expectations. Now, not only was he limited by the Marshals, but he couldn’t even help the way he knew how. On top of that, she knew he blamed himself.
She didn’t blame him, because none of this was his fault and doing so wouldn’t help the situation. She’d seen what it had done to her parents. Their marriage had barely survived.
“What about Gregory?” Neal asked, closing the folder with a snap.
“We’ve put calls in to Interpol to find out if they know where he is and what he’s been up to. They’re looking into that and any known associates of his. We do know that he entered the US two weeks ago in Boston.”
Sara’s breath caught in her throat.
Neal looked up sharply. “Is he still here?”
Erin shook her head. “No, Homeland Security has him leaving five days later. But he could have flown back in under an alias. Or he could have ordered this from afar.”
Sara didn’t understand how anyone could just order a little girl kidnapped, but men like Gregory had no scruples. But why would he have flown to the US to begin with? Like Erin said, he could have just as easily ordered it from Europe. What was in Boston?
Then it hit her.
“Do we know if he left Boston at all?” she asked, her heart pounding. If she was right…
Erin frowned and leaned forward. “No plane tickets in his name, but he could have driven or taken a bus or train. Why?”
Sara sat up straight. “Because two paintings were stolen from the Institute of Contemporary Art last week. The police have no suspects.”
They both looked at her surprised. Neal cocked his head to the side, and looked at her curiously. “How do you know that?”
“It is my job,” she stressed. “I keep up with things.”
“If that’s the case…” Erin paused a moment. “We may have this all wrong.” She abruptly stood up, reached for the folder, and briskly walked out of the room.
Neal glanced back at her and wordlessly grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. If there was a look of defeat on his face, a staunch denial of the fact that someone could be hurting their daughter, they didn’t mention it. They couldn’t think like that now.
An hour and a half later, Erin burst back into the conference room with a grim look on her face. Sara was ready to climb the walls-she had nothing to do but imagine every outcome. Even though she hadn’t looked at the photos, her mind had easily supplied an image of her daughter in that man’s hands. Pacing the small room, arms wrapped around her chest tightly, she’d stared at the floor in a trance, waiting for something-anything. She just wanted to know. Not knowing was worse.
“Police just found the guy. He was at a local park, watching the kids. A mom called it in.”
Sara stopped in her tracks; her eyes shot up, wild and desperate. Was this it? Was this the moment everything changed?
“Madeline?” Neal asked without pause.
“She wasn’t with him.”
“What?” Sara stared at Erin in shock. She grabbed onto the nearest chair, feeling her knees ready to give out and took a deep breath. All she could think… all she could do was picture her little girl found in some dirt hole in the woods or tossed to the side of the road. She wanted to scream.
“Are we sure it’s him?” she heard Neal ask, his voice calm but shaky. How could he be so damn composed?
“Oh, it’s him. But he claims he never took her. The police tried to question him, but he lawyered up when he was shown photos from the grocery store.”
“So, that means what?” Sara looked up, afraid of what the answer would be. “He took her somewhere?” If the guy didn’t talk…
“We will find her, Sara. It’s in his best interest to talk,” Erin replied, her voice a careful tone of reassurance that Sara found hard to believe. Not now, when they had nothing to go on.
Neal frowned, hesitating slightly. “You said he was watching the kids?” Erin nodded and he leaned forward. “But why, if he stashed Madeline somewhere? That doesn’t make any sense. It’s too risky to try again so soon.”
“We’re not talking about a guy in his right mind, I’m afraid.”
Neal shook his head. “No, that’s not why.” Erin raised an eyebrow. He waved her off. “I just mean, he wasn’t off enjoying-” Sara shuddered and closed her eyes, “-his success. I’m wondering if he was telling the truth. You said you couldn’t see them leave the store, right?”
Sara’s eyes snapped open. She stared at her husband, wide-eyed.
“You think…”
Erin shot up from her seat. She was across the room in a few short steps, yanking open the door. The blinds shook and clanged against the glass. Neal was seconds behind her, his chair bumping against the door as it closed behind her, pushing his way through. Sara hastily followed them, and they wound their way through the corridors.
When they finally stopped at a door, Erin led them into a small room filled with computers. Sara looked around, taking in the racks blinking on the wall, and the various equipment on the tables.
“I need you to pull up the footage outside the store.”
A young man with dark brown hair and square glasses nodded and started tapping on his keyboard. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and ratty sneakers, obviously having been called in because of the incident.
Erin turned towards a large TV on the wall. An image of the parking lot filled the screen. “Let's see it.”
They all watched as people scattered as they left the store, walking towards their cars. Suddenly Neal called out, “Stop!” The image froze immediately.
He wheeled closer to the TV, pointing up. “See that guy? He has no bags.”
“Shit,” Erin cursed under her breath, turning back to the tech guy. “Jason, can you pull up images of the guy in the store?”
“Sure, just give me a minute.” Jason clicked some more. His eyes flicked to a secondary monitor to his right. Sara waited anxiously, now hoping that Neal's suspicions were correct. She stared at the screen, the frozen image of the man that had laid hands on her daughter. She still hadn't seen his face. Sara was pretty sure she didn't want to, afraid of the nightmares that would plague if she knew what he looked like.
Not that she wasn't going to have nightmares anyway, but his face would be burned into her brain. Like Gregory’s.
Two windows popped up on the screen, were quickly resized and arranged next to the frozen video. You still couldn't see his face-the black and white video was too blurry. The video inside of the store was better, however it was of his backside. But it was clear that they were wearing the same clothes.
“She got away,” she breathed, shaking, and nearly collapsed again.
Neal spun around. He looked up at her, his eyes bright, the wide grin on his face belying the immense relief both of them felt. It wasn’t over yet, but they had hope now.
Erin had her cell phone out in a flash, quickly scrolling down the screen with her thumb. Just as she hit the call button, she glanced back at Jason. “Thanks a lot.”
Jason smiled, giving her a short nod as she focused on her call. “This is Inspector Matthews. I just rewatched the video footage of our guy leaving the store. He didn't leave with the girl. She's still there. I need police combing every inch of that store and the surrounding area.”
She motioned towards them. Sara moved to the door as Erin listened intently to whoever she had called. “Right, thanks. I'm with the parents. We're heading out now. Call me as soon as you find her.”
They walked back to the conference room where Sara picked up her purse, then to Erin's desk for her keys. Less than five minutes later they were pulling out of the parking garage with David, her partner, driving the large government SUV. The drive was silent, no one saying a word as they navigated downtown Denver and sped onto the highway, the traffic moving quickly in the early Saturday evening. Neal held onto Sara's hand tightly, and she prayed for the nightmare to be over.
Halfway there, the silence was broken by the shrill ring of Erin's phone. Sara caught Neal's eye and they shared an uneasy smile. The excitement they’d felt just minutes earlier was tempered by the fact that it wasn’t over yet. This could still all end in a way that would destroy their lives. More than Gregory ever had.
“Matthews.”
Sara held her breath. Time seemed to stand still as Erin listened to the other person talk. She couldn't see the Inspector, and could only wait as the one sided conversation went on.
“How is she?”
She nearly wept when she heard Erin voice those three short words, and felt Neal's hand squeeze hers even harder.
“Okay, we're about twenty minutes out.” There was a beat. “Yes, thanks.”
Erin then twisted around so she could look at them. She smiled wide, the relief visible and real. “They found Madeline-she's alright. Apparently she wandered into one of those playsets outside the store. She was asleep when they found her.”
Sara covered her mouth, and her shoulders shook as the tears she'd been holding back escaped. She slumped against the seat, all her energy zapped by the day's events. All she could think about was holding her daughter in her arms.
Neal's hands reached over, pulling her down in his lap. She felt his fingers thread through her hair, his thumb rubbing gently down her neck, and she felt herself relax against him.
“Think we can get her an anklet?” he murmured, his voice low and tired.
Sara let out a muffled laugh and closed her eyes. It might not be a bad idea. She never wanted to go through that again.
*~*~*~*
Peter was tired. It had been a late night, driving to their hotel and checking in at two a.m., but he couldn't turn off his brain. The news that Neal was alive was shocking enough, but seeing him in a wheelchair and learning what he had gone through was a bitter pill to swallow. For years he had remembered his friend as a bright, if infuriating, young man who would always land on his feet and get himself out of a tight spot no matter the situation.
It was hard to see him now, despite the apparent happiness he'd achieved.
He desperately wanted to talk to Elizabeth, but it had obviously been too late to call her last night, and Peter knew he wouldn't be able to get a hold of her during the day. But he'd also realized later in the afternoon, that he couldn't tell her. Not yet, at least. Neal had kept them in the dark for their protection. It hurt to think about keeping this from his wife, but it wasn't his decision.
There had been many things he'd told his wife in confidence over the years, but nothing this serious. She knew he didn't tell her specifics to keep her safe, but this was about everyone's safety. Including a little girl and a baby boy.
It was unlikely that anything would ever happen, not after so many years, but he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something did happen.
This would just be one secret he'd have to keep to himself.
“You okay?”
Peter looked over at Jones, and smiled sadly. “Yeah, I'm good.” They were on their way back to Neal's after having dinner with Thompson and leaving him at the hotel. Thompson didn't know why Peter was there, or what they were up to, but the young agent hadn't asked questions, much to his relief.
He could barely wrap his head around the situation, and was still reeling from it all. Neither he nor Jones had talked about Neal since the previous night, and a small part of Peter wondered if it had all been a dream.
“I…” he started, then stopped and shook his head. “I guess I still can’t believe it.” He sighed and looked out the window. The stars barely lit up the night sky, and only the passing light on the highway illuminated the fields around them. He felt like the darkness was swallowing him up. “I’d finally gotten to a point where I was okay. I missed him, but it didn’t hurt as much.”
“Time will do that to you. The pain fades eventually.”
Peter scoffed. “Yeah, one would hope after five years. Too bad no one clued us in that it was all a con.”
“It wasn’t a con, Peter.”
He drew in a ragged breath and pinched the bridge between his eyes. “I know. I… I just don’t know what’s worse-being oblivious or…” he stopped, and closed his eyes, the familiar ache tugging at his heart.
“Knowing he’s here, alive, and having to say goodbye again,” Jones filled in, softly.
Peter just kept staring out at the dark night.
“When's your flight back?” Jones asked, glancing over.
“Saturday afternoon,” he replied absently. “I didn't know how long you'd need me.”
Jones nodded. “I had no idea what would happen with Neal. How he would play into the investigation.” He paused. “Ryan and I are leaving in the morning. There's nothing more for us to do, and I didn't think it was wise to stick around.”
Peter sighed. “That's probably a good idea. I guess I could try to move up my flight.”
“I think you should stay. You and Neal need to talk-alone.” Jones gave him a pointed look. “It's been five years, Peter. Finding him like this... don't tell me that you're still not angry. There's a lot you both need to get off your chests.”
“But I can't risk his safety. I don't want to be the one who makes him lose everything. Again. This is risky enough.”
Jones shook his head. “Do you really think you can just fly home after all this and go on like everything’s normal? It's worth the risk and I think Neal would agree. We've taken precautions, but if the Marshals find out we'll deal with it.”
The younger agent didn't say anything more, and Peter sat there silently, mulling it over. Normally he would agree, his belief in the FBI and the system were strong, but after his arrest, doubts had lingered.
But he also couldn't disagree with the truth behind Jones' words. He needed to talk with Neal. They would work on the case tonight, and he was sure that there would be time to talk, but they had five years to catch up on. Not that one night was enough, he thought wryly.
They pulled up to Neal's house, and Jones parked in front of the single garage on the side. Peter glanced at Jones. “I'll let Neal decide.”
Jones smiled and gave him a quick nod. “Sounds like a plan.”
Peter walked to the front door, briefcase in hand. Sara answered the door moments after he rang the doorbell. “Hi, Sara,” he greeted her.
He shifted his weight uncomfortably, and smiled awkwardly. He hadn't known what kind of reception he'd get today, and felt a little unsure of how to act around her. The gravity of the situation was hard to ignore, and although he was happy to be there and know the truth, he understood it put them in a difficult position.
She opened the door wide and waved him inside. “Hey Peter, come on in. Just wait a moment while I go open the garage.”
Wiping his feet on the doormat, he followed Sara in, and watched her turn left and walk down the hallway. He hesitated momentarily in the foyer and looked around curiously. He’d only given the house a cursory glance last night, too preoccupied with Neal and the shock of seeing him again.
The living room was open and airy, with windows lining the back wall overlooking the backyard, and hardwood floors. Overall, it had a contemporary feel, with a charcoal gray sectional, pale gray walls and a splashy black vertical fireplace with sparkling blue crystals instead of logs. A large TV sat on top of a dark mahogany entertainment stand along one wall.
He walked into the room and noticed that while it was modern, it was still warm, and there were signs that a family lived there. A small basket in the corner held toys and bright colorful floor pillows were stacked next to it. Several family photos also hung on the opposite wall. He moved closer and noticed that several smaller photos were arranged artfully around a bigger painting-a soft, tender painting of a baby girl, looking up with wide blue eyes.
He knew without a doubt that Neal had painted it, and his heart clenched, sad that they hadn’t been there to celebrate with him.
There were a couple of family portraits, and the rest were of Madeline at various ages. The little girl had a mop of curly auburn hair that obviously took after Sara, but had Neal’s sparkling blue eyes and a bright big grin.
He heard Jones’ voice waft down the hallway, and he stepped back from the wall quickly as Jones followed Sara into the room.
“I, uh…” he glanced between them and the painting. “She’s beautiful.”
And Peter saw something he’d never seen before-a flash of pride and love filled Sara’s face. It was such a change from the baton wielding woman he’d known so many years ago. There was a softness to her that Peter knew could only come from having a child. But he knew the strong-willed and fearless woman was still in there, and probably only intensified now that she had children to protect.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and rested a hand on her belly.
“Congratulations,” he added, waving a hand towards her then dropped it to his side awkwardly. “You’re, uh, going to have your hands full if he’s anything like Neal.”
She laughed lightly and smiled. “I know. But, hey, you told me to get a life, right?”
He felt his face turn red and he coughed into his hand. “Um, right… well I have to admit I didn’t see you settling down with Neal when I said that. I was more afraid that you’d tase him.”
Sara threw back her head and laughed, her eyes shining. Peter had to admit, he’d missed her too, missed the fierce determination and sharp wit of the woman who’d kept Neal on his toes.
“Neither did I, nor Neal for that matter. But things change. You never know where life is going to take you.”
Peter sobered up at that, and he frowned. “No… no you don’t.”
She seemed to know what he was thinking and gave him a gentle smile. “He’s happy, Peter. I know it was probably a shock for you, but he’s accepted it.” Pausing, she seemed to consider her next words. “There are still days when he has a hard time, usually if it involves Madeline, but he knows that he’s lucky and doesn’t complain.”
Honestly, Peter couldn’t imagine everything that Neal had gone through, and it was even harder to picture the suave, carefree man he’d known for years battling to do the simplest things.
“I’m glad you were there for him,” he said quietly.
A flash of indignation crossed her face, and she bristled, crossing her arms over her stomach. “I wasn’t going to leave him, Peter.” Her eyes flared briefly, but then she took a deep breath, and visibly tried to restrain herself.
“It was tough in the beginning, for both of us, but there was no question of letting him go through this alone.” She paused, looked him straight in the eye and lowered her voice. “Everyone might have just seen Neal as a conman, a thief only interested in the next big score and keeping himself out of prison. I admit it took some time for me to get past it too, but Peter, you know as well as I do, that Neal is a lot more than that. He didn’t deserve any of this.”
Peter exhaled slowly and shook his head. “No, he didn't. And neither did you. I'm really sorry.”
“We can’t do anything about it now, Peter, except move on.” Sara sighed and dropped her arms to her side. “And we’ve worked hard at that.”
Peter’s shoulders slumped, and he felt the exhaustion of the past twenty-four hours catch up with him. And yet, it had probably been ten times worse for Neal and Sara. “I know.”
They stared at each other for a moment in silence, before she gave him a short nod. “I’ll go get Neal,” she said, and turned towards double glass doors just across the hallway. She knocked softly, and then walked in without waiting for a response.
A minute later Sara emerged, and closed the door behind her quietly. “He’ll be out in a few minutes. I’m going to bed.” She paused, and said more softly, “It was nice seeing you again, Peter.”
“You too, Sara.” He wondered if he should say goodbye or not. He hoped to come back tomorrow, but she didn’t know that. “I wish it’d been under better circumstances, but I’m not sorry it happened.”
She leaned against the closed door and glanced back at the office with a sad smile. “Once we were back in the States, it was hard for him not to reach out to you. Would you believe Neal Caffrey was tired of running? He might have moved to London, but to him, that was his way of retiring. And he wanted to thank you for giving him that opportunity. He wouldn't have made it this far if you hadn't believed in him.”
Peter swallowed hard, and thought back to all the times he’d looked the other way, all of the second chances he’d given Neal. “I always told him he could be more than a con. I knew he had it in him.”
“It's not that easy. He had to have a reason, more than just staying out of prison. Neal needed to see that it was worth it, and have the support of people around him to show him that he was doing the right thing. If you hadn't trusted him, been a friend, then he would have gone right back to his old ways. We both know that he and Mozzie could have just disappeared after the anklet came off.”
Peter rolled his eyes. The little guy had been both help and hindrance over the years. It had been a constant tug of war with him over Neal. He was just thankful that in the end, Neal had chosen the life for himself. Although it meant that he’d left both his friends, he’d gone after what would make him happy.
“We all wanted what was best for Neal.”
Sara's eyes softened. “We did, but Neal had to come to that conclusion, and without your help, I'm not sure that ever would have happened.” She pursed her lips. “He was doing well in London, but we'll never know if something would have tempted him one day. Now...” she stopped and took a deep breath.
“One good thing came from the accident-it gave Neal a fresh start. He doesn't look back anymore, and no one wonders if he ever will. He doesn't have his past hanging over his head anymore, and that is more important than you realize.”
He blanched and ran a hand over his face. “I...” he snapped his mouth closed. What did he say to that? How long had he held Neal's criminal past over him? How many times had Peter joked about sending him back to prison or reminded him that he was a criminal?
“It's okay, Peter.” She smiled at him knowingly. “Really. Yes, he tested all of our patience over the years, and he’s aware of that. Neal knows he wasn’t a model citizen and he made mistakes, but he wants to put all of that in his past.”
But it wasn't okay, Peter thought to himself. Although they’d eventually patched things up after the Hagen debacle, he had never really apologized. Every day Peter had held his breath and waited for Neal to mess up again. He'd been afraid, because he knew he would have to arrest his friend the next time something happened.
When he’d finally taken the anklet off for the last time, Peter had been so relieved that he hadn’t let himself fully appreciate what Neal had accomplished. Oh, he’d been happy for him, but that hadn’t changed the fact that he had assumed the worst of Neal. That mistrust had damaged their friendship.
Peter wondered if that was why he never heard from Neal after he left New York. Had Neal been hurt or had he been trying to prove something?
The door opened at that moment and Neal wheeled out. Sara shared a smile with him and then nodded at Peter and Jones. “Good night.”
“Good night,” they echoed and Jones stepped aside as she passed them. Peter exhaled slowly and tried to relax. He would hopefully talk with Neal later, and maybe they could finally clear the air. It was long overdue, and this time, Peter would apologize.
Chapter Five
Author: reve_silencieux
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Neal, Peter, Sara, Mozzie, Jones, Elizabeth, OFC (N/S)
Spoilers: Season Five
Warnings: Spoilery (highlight to read) Permanent Injury - Paralysis
Word Count: 49,000 (This chapter: 5652)
Beta: sapphire2309
Summary: Five years after the events of The Last Con, Peter and Jones stumble across a case that opens up old wounds.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Sara brushed some hair out of her eyes and glanced between the papers in front of her and the computer monitor. Sighing, she stabbed at the limp salad in its plastic container, wondering where the day had gone. She was used to long hours. She usually never minded them, even when long hours turned into weekends, but now things were different. Summer was just starting. She was looking forward to it, now that Madeline was at an age to enjoy it.
She had never thought of herself as a maternal person, but Neal's joy was infectious. There were no words to describe how much she loved her daughter. She might not have envisioned having children when she was younger, but she’d never expected her life to turn out the way it had either.
It wasn’t an easy life, certainly not perfect, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Her cell phone rang, flashing Neal’s name on the screen. She felt bad that he had to take care of everything by himself today, as he had been doing for the past week because of the case, but she knew he enjoyed the time he got alone with Madeline. Years ago, she never would have guessed that a little girl would have Neal Caffrey wrapped around her finger, but he adored her so much.
That made her all the more happy that they’d been given the chance to start a family. After losing nearly everything, she hadn’t been sure that they’d be able to-much less that they’d want to-considering the circumstances. It was after things settled down and they got married that they finally decided to try.
“Please tell me she didn’t guilt you into buying her ice cream again,” she teased, glancing at the framed photo of Neal and Madeline on her desk.
With his next words, she felt all the blood drain from her face.
It was nearly two hours later when Neal and Erin finally entered the US Marshals office. After Neal’s call, she’d waited anxiously for a Marshal to pick her up at her office, even though she’d wanted to drive out to the grocery store right that second. But she understood that there was protocol to follow, precautions to be taken. She didn’t like it, but she had no choice in the matter.
It had been harder to sit and wait, with no one able to tell her anything. When she saw Neal arrive by himself, it hit her like a punch to her stomach.
Her little girl was gone.
She knew her mother had always wondered what she could have done, what had made Emily run away, but Sara hadn’t expected to feel the sheer terror of the unknown herself.
Neal was in her arms a moment later, and she let herself break down, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry… so sorry…” he whispered over and over. They sat there, frozen in the moment, crying and clutching each other tightly. She crawled into his lap and held onto him as though he was going to disappear too. She couldn’t handle that. Not now. She needed him, needed his calming voice and tender touch because her world was crumbling around her.
She was used to being the tough one, holding her head up high and shoring up her defenses against anything or anyone that could hurt her. The pain of loss had become the rule instead of the exception in her life, from an early age. Perhaps it had made her a cynical and distrustful person. People thought of her as a bitch, but she's not sure she could have made it this far otherwise.
Today though... the strength that had helped her through so much over the years had evaporated, threatening to leave her a shell of the person she'd always known.
She could barely comprehend how it happened, despite the fear they’d lived with every day for the past four years. Some days she managed to forget. Then she’d catch herself watching for a tail or shielding herself from a camera's eye.
There would be no rest, no happy ending for them because it would never end. And now they'd brought their innocent daughter into it.
Sara straightened up and swiped at her eyes when she caught movement a few feet away. Erin stood there, waiting patiently, allowing them their grief, but they had to talk. She wanted-no, needed to know more. Standing up, she adjusted her clothes quickly, pulled herself together, because she might have lost her strength but she wouldn't let them take anything else away from her.
They followed Erin into a conference room. It was small and private, and it looked the same as it did four years ago. There were no windows, because if they weren’t safe out there, then at least they were supposed to feel safe here. But that didn’t reassure her, not right now. Erin moved a chair away from the table for Neal before taking a seat across from them. Sara eyed the folder in the woman's hands. Her stomach clenched. She was both anxious and afraid to see what was in there. Did she want to see photos of her daughter being led away, alone and scared?
Erin paused, her hand resting on top of the pale blue folder, looked at them uneasily. “We have the video from the grocery store and we isolated the man that took your daughter. They left in a crowd of people, so we don't have a clear shot of them, but the techs have footage of him entering the building. They've identified his car. The police are out looking for it, as well as broadcasting it in the Amber Alert.”
“You don't have the license plate, do you?” Neal asked, leaning forward and reached for the folder, but didn’t open it right away. There was no sign of the emotional father from just moments before, his tone all business, and Sara suddenly wondered if they had to deal with it as if it was a case. But it hurt too much to think that way, this was their daughter.
“No, we can only tell the make and model from the video.”
Neal closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Color?”
She grimaced slightly. “The video outside the store was black and white. All we can say is dark at this point.”
“Traffic cameras?”
Shaking her head, she replied, “This isn’t New York City, I’m afraid. We only have cameras on the highway. But we are monitoring them and checking the red light cameras.” Erin reached over to open the folder. She pushed aside a few photos before pulling out a still of a car. “His car had a few identifying marks that we’re looking for-bumper stickers, a dented fender.”
Neal opened his eyes and stared at the photo for several beats then nodded numbly. He shuffled through the photos slowly, stopping at a color one from inside the store. She couldn’t see it, but her imagination filled in the blanks. Before she could gather the strength to look at them herself, he dropped the photos on the table. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. His hands rested on his wheels and he tapped them absently, his eyes still locked on the folder.
Sara watched him wearily, knowing that this was the time when he'd normally go about doing his own thing, ignoring all the rules that law enforcement had to abide by. But he couldn't now. It wasn’t just because of the chair, though. They were on lockdown. The Marshals weren’t going to let them out of their sight. Neal couldn’t slip out unnoticed and there was no Mozzie to call for help or a distraction.
She knew that it was killing him, to sit back and wait. There weren’t many times that he was visibly frustrated by the wheelchair, but today it was all coming to a head.
He tried so hard not to rely on other people. She’d had to bite her tongue too many times to count as he fought his body and people’s expectations. Now, not only was he limited by the Marshals, but he couldn’t even help the way he knew how. On top of that, she knew he blamed himself.
She didn’t blame him, because none of this was his fault and doing so wouldn’t help the situation. She’d seen what it had done to her parents. Their marriage had barely survived.
“What about Gregory?” Neal asked, closing the folder with a snap.
“We’ve put calls in to Interpol to find out if they know where he is and what he’s been up to. They’re looking into that and any known associates of his. We do know that he entered the US two weeks ago in Boston.”
Sara’s breath caught in her throat.
Neal looked up sharply. “Is he still here?”
Erin shook her head. “No, Homeland Security has him leaving five days later. But he could have flown back in under an alias. Or he could have ordered this from afar.”
Sara didn’t understand how anyone could just order a little girl kidnapped, but men like Gregory had no scruples. But why would he have flown to the US to begin with? Like Erin said, he could have just as easily ordered it from Europe. What was in Boston?
Then it hit her.
“Do we know if he left Boston at all?” she asked, her heart pounding. If she was right…
Erin frowned and leaned forward. “No plane tickets in his name, but he could have driven or taken a bus or train. Why?”
Sara sat up straight. “Because two paintings were stolen from the Institute of Contemporary Art last week. The police have no suspects.”
They both looked at her surprised. Neal cocked his head to the side, and looked at her curiously. “How do you know that?”
“It is my job,” she stressed. “I keep up with things.”
“If that’s the case…” Erin paused a moment. “We may have this all wrong.” She abruptly stood up, reached for the folder, and briskly walked out of the room.
Neal glanced back at her and wordlessly grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. If there was a look of defeat on his face, a staunch denial of the fact that someone could be hurting their daughter, they didn’t mention it. They couldn’t think like that now.
An hour and a half later, Erin burst back into the conference room with a grim look on her face. Sara was ready to climb the walls-she had nothing to do but imagine every outcome. Even though she hadn’t looked at the photos, her mind had easily supplied an image of her daughter in that man’s hands. Pacing the small room, arms wrapped around her chest tightly, she’d stared at the floor in a trance, waiting for something-anything. She just wanted to know. Not knowing was worse.
“Police just found the guy. He was at a local park, watching the kids. A mom called it in.”
Sara stopped in her tracks; her eyes shot up, wild and desperate. Was this it? Was this the moment everything changed?
“Madeline?” Neal asked without pause.
“She wasn’t with him.”
“What?” Sara stared at Erin in shock. She grabbed onto the nearest chair, feeling her knees ready to give out and took a deep breath. All she could think… all she could do was picture her little girl found in some dirt hole in the woods or tossed to the side of the road. She wanted to scream.
“Are we sure it’s him?” she heard Neal ask, his voice calm but shaky. How could he be so damn composed?
“Oh, it’s him. But he claims he never took her. The police tried to question him, but he lawyered up when he was shown photos from the grocery store.”
“So, that means what?” Sara looked up, afraid of what the answer would be. “He took her somewhere?” If the guy didn’t talk…
“We will find her, Sara. It’s in his best interest to talk,” Erin replied, her voice a careful tone of reassurance that Sara found hard to believe. Not now, when they had nothing to go on.
Neal frowned, hesitating slightly. “You said he was watching the kids?” Erin nodded and he leaned forward. “But why, if he stashed Madeline somewhere? That doesn’t make any sense. It’s too risky to try again so soon.”
“We’re not talking about a guy in his right mind, I’m afraid.”
Neal shook his head. “No, that’s not why.” Erin raised an eyebrow. He waved her off. “I just mean, he wasn’t off enjoying-” Sara shuddered and closed her eyes, “-his success. I’m wondering if he was telling the truth. You said you couldn’t see them leave the store, right?”
Sara’s eyes snapped open. She stared at her husband, wide-eyed.
“You think…”
Erin shot up from her seat. She was across the room in a few short steps, yanking open the door. The blinds shook and clanged against the glass. Neal was seconds behind her, his chair bumping against the door as it closed behind her, pushing his way through. Sara hastily followed them, and they wound their way through the corridors.
When they finally stopped at a door, Erin led them into a small room filled with computers. Sara looked around, taking in the racks blinking on the wall, and the various equipment on the tables.
“I need you to pull up the footage outside the store.”
A young man with dark brown hair and square glasses nodded and started tapping on his keyboard. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and ratty sneakers, obviously having been called in because of the incident.
Erin turned towards a large TV on the wall. An image of the parking lot filled the screen. “Let's see it.”
They all watched as people scattered as they left the store, walking towards their cars. Suddenly Neal called out, “Stop!” The image froze immediately.
He wheeled closer to the TV, pointing up. “See that guy? He has no bags.”
“Shit,” Erin cursed under her breath, turning back to the tech guy. “Jason, can you pull up images of the guy in the store?”
“Sure, just give me a minute.” Jason clicked some more. His eyes flicked to a secondary monitor to his right. Sara waited anxiously, now hoping that Neal's suspicions were correct. She stared at the screen, the frozen image of the man that had laid hands on her daughter. She still hadn't seen his face. Sara was pretty sure she didn't want to, afraid of the nightmares that would plague if she knew what he looked like.
Not that she wasn't going to have nightmares anyway, but his face would be burned into her brain. Like Gregory’s.
Two windows popped up on the screen, were quickly resized and arranged next to the frozen video. You still couldn't see his face-the black and white video was too blurry. The video inside of the store was better, however it was of his backside. But it was clear that they were wearing the same clothes.
“She got away,” she breathed, shaking, and nearly collapsed again.
Neal spun around. He looked up at her, his eyes bright, the wide grin on his face belying the immense relief both of them felt. It wasn’t over yet, but they had hope now.
Erin had her cell phone out in a flash, quickly scrolling down the screen with her thumb. Just as she hit the call button, she glanced back at Jason. “Thanks a lot.”
Jason smiled, giving her a short nod as she focused on her call. “This is Inspector Matthews. I just rewatched the video footage of our guy leaving the store. He didn't leave with the girl. She's still there. I need police combing every inch of that store and the surrounding area.”
She motioned towards them. Sara moved to the door as Erin listened intently to whoever she had called. “Right, thanks. I'm with the parents. We're heading out now. Call me as soon as you find her.”
They walked back to the conference room where Sara picked up her purse, then to Erin's desk for her keys. Less than five minutes later they were pulling out of the parking garage with David, her partner, driving the large government SUV. The drive was silent, no one saying a word as they navigated downtown Denver and sped onto the highway, the traffic moving quickly in the early Saturday evening. Neal held onto Sara's hand tightly, and she prayed for the nightmare to be over.
Halfway there, the silence was broken by the shrill ring of Erin's phone. Sara caught Neal's eye and they shared an uneasy smile. The excitement they’d felt just minutes earlier was tempered by the fact that it wasn’t over yet. This could still all end in a way that would destroy their lives. More than Gregory ever had.
“Matthews.”
Sara held her breath. Time seemed to stand still as Erin listened to the other person talk. She couldn't see the Inspector, and could only wait as the one sided conversation went on.
“How is she?”
She nearly wept when she heard Erin voice those three short words, and felt Neal's hand squeeze hers even harder.
“Okay, we're about twenty minutes out.” There was a beat. “Yes, thanks.”
Erin then twisted around so she could look at them. She smiled wide, the relief visible and real. “They found Madeline-she's alright. Apparently she wandered into one of those playsets outside the store. She was asleep when they found her.”
Sara covered her mouth, and her shoulders shook as the tears she'd been holding back escaped. She slumped against the seat, all her energy zapped by the day's events. All she could think about was holding her daughter in her arms.
Neal's hands reached over, pulling her down in his lap. She felt his fingers thread through her hair, his thumb rubbing gently down her neck, and she felt herself relax against him.
“Think we can get her an anklet?” he murmured, his voice low and tired.
Sara let out a muffled laugh and closed her eyes. It might not be a bad idea. She never wanted to go through that again.
*~*~*~*
Peter was tired. It had been a late night, driving to their hotel and checking in at two a.m., but he couldn't turn off his brain. The news that Neal was alive was shocking enough, but seeing him in a wheelchair and learning what he had gone through was a bitter pill to swallow. For years he had remembered his friend as a bright, if infuriating, young man who would always land on his feet and get himself out of a tight spot no matter the situation.
It was hard to see him now, despite the apparent happiness he'd achieved.
He desperately wanted to talk to Elizabeth, but it had obviously been too late to call her last night, and Peter knew he wouldn't be able to get a hold of her during the day. But he'd also realized later in the afternoon, that he couldn't tell her. Not yet, at least. Neal had kept them in the dark for their protection. It hurt to think about keeping this from his wife, but it wasn't his decision.
There had been many things he'd told his wife in confidence over the years, but nothing this serious. She knew he didn't tell her specifics to keep her safe, but this was about everyone's safety. Including a little girl and a baby boy.
It was unlikely that anything would ever happen, not after so many years, but he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something did happen.
This would just be one secret he'd have to keep to himself.
“You okay?”
Peter looked over at Jones, and smiled sadly. “Yeah, I'm good.” They were on their way back to Neal's after having dinner with Thompson and leaving him at the hotel. Thompson didn't know why Peter was there, or what they were up to, but the young agent hadn't asked questions, much to his relief.
He could barely wrap his head around the situation, and was still reeling from it all. Neither he nor Jones had talked about Neal since the previous night, and a small part of Peter wondered if it had all been a dream.
“I…” he started, then stopped and shook his head. “I guess I still can’t believe it.” He sighed and looked out the window. The stars barely lit up the night sky, and only the passing light on the highway illuminated the fields around them. He felt like the darkness was swallowing him up. “I’d finally gotten to a point where I was okay. I missed him, but it didn’t hurt as much.”
“Time will do that to you. The pain fades eventually.”
Peter scoffed. “Yeah, one would hope after five years. Too bad no one clued us in that it was all a con.”
“It wasn’t a con, Peter.”
He drew in a ragged breath and pinched the bridge between his eyes. “I know. I… I just don’t know what’s worse-being oblivious or…” he stopped, and closed his eyes, the familiar ache tugging at his heart.
“Knowing he’s here, alive, and having to say goodbye again,” Jones filled in, softly.
Peter just kept staring out at the dark night.
“When's your flight back?” Jones asked, glancing over.
“Saturday afternoon,” he replied absently. “I didn't know how long you'd need me.”
Jones nodded. “I had no idea what would happen with Neal. How he would play into the investigation.” He paused. “Ryan and I are leaving in the morning. There's nothing more for us to do, and I didn't think it was wise to stick around.”
Peter sighed. “That's probably a good idea. I guess I could try to move up my flight.”
“I think you should stay. You and Neal need to talk-alone.” Jones gave him a pointed look. “It's been five years, Peter. Finding him like this... don't tell me that you're still not angry. There's a lot you both need to get off your chests.”
“But I can't risk his safety. I don't want to be the one who makes him lose everything. Again. This is risky enough.”
Jones shook his head. “Do you really think you can just fly home after all this and go on like everything’s normal? It's worth the risk and I think Neal would agree. We've taken precautions, but if the Marshals find out we'll deal with it.”
The younger agent didn't say anything more, and Peter sat there silently, mulling it over. Normally he would agree, his belief in the FBI and the system were strong, but after his arrest, doubts had lingered.
But he also couldn't disagree with the truth behind Jones' words. He needed to talk with Neal. They would work on the case tonight, and he was sure that there would be time to talk, but they had five years to catch up on. Not that one night was enough, he thought wryly.
They pulled up to Neal's house, and Jones parked in front of the single garage on the side. Peter glanced at Jones. “I'll let Neal decide.”
Jones smiled and gave him a quick nod. “Sounds like a plan.”
Peter walked to the front door, briefcase in hand. Sara answered the door moments after he rang the doorbell. “Hi, Sara,” he greeted her.
He shifted his weight uncomfortably, and smiled awkwardly. He hadn't known what kind of reception he'd get today, and felt a little unsure of how to act around her. The gravity of the situation was hard to ignore, and although he was happy to be there and know the truth, he understood it put them in a difficult position.
She opened the door wide and waved him inside. “Hey Peter, come on in. Just wait a moment while I go open the garage.”
Wiping his feet on the doormat, he followed Sara in, and watched her turn left and walk down the hallway. He hesitated momentarily in the foyer and looked around curiously. He’d only given the house a cursory glance last night, too preoccupied with Neal and the shock of seeing him again.
The living room was open and airy, with windows lining the back wall overlooking the backyard, and hardwood floors. Overall, it had a contemporary feel, with a charcoal gray sectional, pale gray walls and a splashy black vertical fireplace with sparkling blue crystals instead of logs. A large TV sat on top of a dark mahogany entertainment stand along one wall.
He walked into the room and noticed that while it was modern, it was still warm, and there were signs that a family lived there. A small basket in the corner held toys and bright colorful floor pillows were stacked next to it. Several family photos also hung on the opposite wall. He moved closer and noticed that several smaller photos were arranged artfully around a bigger painting-a soft, tender painting of a baby girl, looking up with wide blue eyes.
He knew without a doubt that Neal had painted it, and his heart clenched, sad that they hadn’t been there to celebrate with him.
There were a couple of family portraits, and the rest were of Madeline at various ages. The little girl had a mop of curly auburn hair that obviously took after Sara, but had Neal’s sparkling blue eyes and a bright big grin.
He heard Jones’ voice waft down the hallway, and he stepped back from the wall quickly as Jones followed Sara into the room.
“I, uh…” he glanced between them and the painting. “She’s beautiful.”
And Peter saw something he’d never seen before-a flash of pride and love filled Sara’s face. It was such a change from the baton wielding woman he’d known so many years ago. There was a softness to her that Peter knew could only come from having a child. But he knew the strong-willed and fearless woman was still in there, and probably only intensified now that she had children to protect.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and rested a hand on her belly.
“Congratulations,” he added, waving a hand towards her then dropped it to his side awkwardly. “You’re, uh, going to have your hands full if he’s anything like Neal.”
She laughed lightly and smiled. “I know. But, hey, you told me to get a life, right?”
He felt his face turn red and he coughed into his hand. “Um, right… well I have to admit I didn’t see you settling down with Neal when I said that. I was more afraid that you’d tase him.”
Sara threw back her head and laughed, her eyes shining. Peter had to admit, he’d missed her too, missed the fierce determination and sharp wit of the woman who’d kept Neal on his toes.
“Neither did I, nor Neal for that matter. But things change. You never know where life is going to take you.”
Peter sobered up at that, and he frowned. “No… no you don’t.”
She seemed to know what he was thinking and gave him a gentle smile. “He’s happy, Peter. I know it was probably a shock for you, but he’s accepted it.” Pausing, she seemed to consider her next words. “There are still days when he has a hard time, usually if it involves Madeline, but he knows that he’s lucky and doesn’t complain.”
Honestly, Peter couldn’t imagine everything that Neal had gone through, and it was even harder to picture the suave, carefree man he’d known for years battling to do the simplest things.
“I’m glad you were there for him,” he said quietly.
A flash of indignation crossed her face, and she bristled, crossing her arms over her stomach. “I wasn’t going to leave him, Peter.” Her eyes flared briefly, but then she took a deep breath, and visibly tried to restrain herself.
“It was tough in the beginning, for both of us, but there was no question of letting him go through this alone.” She paused, looked him straight in the eye and lowered her voice. “Everyone might have just seen Neal as a conman, a thief only interested in the next big score and keeping himself out of prison. I admit it took some time for me to get past it too, but Peter, you know as well as I do, that Neal is a lot more than that. He didn’t deserve any of this.”
Peter exhaled slowly and shook his head. “No, he didn't. And neither did you. I'm really sorry.”
“We can’t do anything about it now, Peter, except move on.” Sara sighed and dropped her arms to her side. “And we’ve worked hard at that.”
Peter’s shoulders slumped, and he felt the exhaustion of the past twenty-four hours catch up with him. And yet, it had probably been ten times worse for Neal and Sara. “I know.”
They stared at each other for a moment in silence, before she gave him a short nod. “I’ll go get Neal,” she said, and turned towards double glass doors just across the hallway. She knocked softly, and then walked in without waiting for a response.
A minute later Sara emerged, and closed the door behind her quietly. “He’ll be out in a few minutes. I’m going to bed.” She paused, and said more softly, “It was nice seeing you again, Peter.”
“You too, Sara.” He wondered if he should say goodbye or not. He hoped to come back tomorrow, but she didn’t know that. “I wish it’d been under better circumstances, but I’m not sorry it happened.”
She leaned against the closed door and glanced back at the office with a sad smile. “Once we were back in the States, it was hard for him not to reach out to you. Would you believe Neal Caffrey was tired of running? He might have moved to London, but to him, that was his way of retiring. And he wanted to thank you for giving him that opportunity. He wouldn't have made it this far if you hadn't believed in him.”
Peter swallowed hard, and thought back to all the times he’d looked the other way, all of the second chances he’d given Neal. “I always told him he could be more than a con. I knew he had it in him.”
“It's not that easy. He had to have a reason, more than just staying out of prison. Neal needed to see that it was worth it, and have the support of people around him to show him that he was doing the right thing. If you hadn't trusted him, been a friend, then he would have gone right back to his old ways. We both know that he and Mozzie could have just disappeared after the anklet came off.”
Peter rolled his eyes. The little guy had been both help and hindrance over the years. It had been a constant tug of war with him over Neal. He was just thankful that in the end, Neal had chosen the life for himself. Although it meant that he’d left both his friends, he’d gone after what would make him happy.
“We all wanted what was best for Neal.”
Sara's eyes softened. “We did, but Neal had to come to that conclusion, and without your help, I'm not sure that ever would have happened.” She pursed her lips. “He was doing well in London, but we'll never know if something would have tempted him one day. Now...” she stopped and took a deep breath.
“One good thing came from the accident-it gave Neal a fresh start. He doesn't look back anymore, and no one wonders if he ever will. He doesn't have his past hanging over his head anymore, and that is more important than you realize.”
He blanched and ran a hand over his face. “I...” he snapped his mouth closed. What did he say to that? How long had he held Neal's criminal past over him? How many times had Peter joked about sending him back to prison or reminded him that he was a criminal?
“It's okay, Peter.” She smiled at him knowingly. “Really. Yes, he tested all of our patience over the years, and he’s aware of that. Neal knows he wasn’t a model citizen and he made mistakes, but he wants to put all of that in his past.”
But it wasn't okay, Peter thought to himself. Although they’d eventually patched things up after the Hagen debacle, he had never really apologized. Every day Peter had held his breath and waited for Neal to mess up again. He'd been afraid, because he knew he would have to arrest his friend the next time something happened.
When he’d finally taken the anklet off for the last time, Peter had been so relieved that he hadn’t let himself fully appreciate what Neal had accomplished. Oh, he’d been happy for him, but that hadn’t changed the fact that he had assumed the worst of Neal. That mistrust had damaged their friendship.
Peter wondered if that was why he never heard from Neal after he left New York. Had Neal been hurt or had he been trying to prove something?
The door opened at that moment and Neal wheeled out. Sara shared a smile with him and then nodded at Peter and Jones. “Good night.”
“Good night,” they echoed and Jones stepped aside as she passed them. Peter exhaled slowly and tried to relax. He would hopefully talk with Neal later, and maybe they could finally clear the air. It was long overdue, and this time, Peter would apologize.
Chapter Five