Work Text:
The words ‘Neal Run’ were sewn into his mind as he did what he was instructed. He hadn’t felt this scared since the London Underground bombings and that had led him to leave the country. Refusing to contact his family and knowing few people who didn’t work for CAN, Neal boarded a bus and headed out of state, to ask help of the only other person he knew he could trust.
“I can’t believe this.
Shelley Wexler, who until half an hour ago still disliked Neal Sanpat, was so flaberghasted by his story that she more than once choked on tea.
“I can’t believe how backwards this whole thing is. They want to procecute YOU on espionage charges for investigating crimes that they committed. It’s unfathomable. They should be held accountable for their actions.”
Neal smiled for the first time all day. Shelley was cute when she got riled up about things. Seeing her fuming about the government made Neal a little happier.
“I’m glad you came to see me Neal.” Shelley said, picking her phone out of her pocket.
“To be honest I didn’t know where else to go. Will told me to run and I didn’t stop to think until I was already on the bus.”
“Is running what you want to do?”
Shelley stopped fiddling with her phone. Neal could see she was in the middle of a text to someone, but not who. She’d stopped texting to ask Neal the question, so he suspected their ideas of help in this situation were different and his response was going to yield a change in the plan she was concocting.
“I’m kind of out of favorable options right now. It’s running and hiding or federal prison. So yeah, hiding. Hiding sounds good.”
He was right in his assumptions. Shelley deleted the message she was typing and opened another contact on her phone.
“Okay,” she started again, without making eye contact with Neal “Hiding it is.”
Shelley didn’t take her eyes off her phone. She continued to text with one hand, her fingers in a flurry while Neal slouched forward, still trying to come to terms with his decision and resting his face in his hands.
Slowly, without conscious thought, Shelley moved her free hand over Neal’s shoulder and rubbed circles on his back. Neal was scared and alone, cut off from the only support he’d known for the last two years. People he would fight and die for, people who were now fighting for him. Friends turned family he’d probably never see again. She felt for him.
It wasn’t long before Shelley had a plan in action. Through her network of friends and colleagues, she could get Neal to Venezuela, where they had no extradition laws. He could be safe from persecution in the United States as long as he stayed there, permanently separated from everything he knew.
An hour later a former OWS friend of Shelley’s arrived at her apartment complex to drive Neal the first part of his trip – to Canada – where he could catch a flight south.
Shelley hugged Neal for far longer than was necessary, giving him a gentle, friendly kiss on the cheek as they separated.
“Stay safe Neal. Watch your back, just in case.”
“You too Shelley. They’ll probably come to see if I was here.”
“And I’ll tell them I haven’t seen you since I punched you in the stomache at ACN.”
Shelley smiled, and Neal did the same as he entered the Nissan that had come to get him.
The car started to pull away, heading for the exit of the parking lot where it would make a left hand turn and fade from view.
Shelley stood and waved until it was out of sight, knowing Neal would be free, but that she would never see him again.