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Neal wasn’t real, the man Peter had known for over a year and a half was actually a police officer. The only reason he existed in the first place was to weed out dirty agents in the FBI. Peter was hurt when Neal finished his sentence and completely dropped off the map, but that hurt feeling had turned bittersweet when the truth came out. He’d wanted to punch the officer they’d sent to explain everything when she told the office that she couldn’t tell them Neal’s real name. All she said was that he’d gone home, back to his real life. It turned out every day Neal spent with the White Collar division had been a lie.
Several months passed after the revelation of Neal’s identity and Peter had long since given up hope that he’d see the man he’d once considered a friend, ever again. His child was named after Neal and the man didn’t even stick around long enough to meet his namesake. It was ironic, baby Neal wasn’t even actually his namesake, Peter’s child was named after someone who didn’t even exist, a character made up by an undercover cop. Peter and El had discussed renaming baby Neal, but eventually decided against it. Even though Neal wasn’t real, he’d had a real impact on their lives. They couldn’t… No, wouldn’t forget that, even with all the lies they knew at least his impact was real.
The office was buzzing when Peter entered one gloomy Monday morning. They were getting a new agent fresh out of training, but with some of the highest capability assessment scores Peter had ever seen. Agent Grayson had worked for the police up until recently, when he was apparently scouted by the FBI.
Normally Peter would be excited to get such a promising new agent in his division, but he’d investigated Richard John Grayson-Wayne. It turned out he was the son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, who definitely had enough money to fake a few training scores. Obviously Peter remained hopeful, but he’d accepted the fact that he’d probably be stuck managing a rich asshole who was far too full of himself. At least agents like that never lasted long, as most quit once they realized just how tough the job could get sometimes.
Peter made his way up to his office and buried himself in mountains of paperwork. Agent Grayson wouldn’t get there until noon, so he had time to get some things done before he was distracted by the new agent. Peter was so immersed in his work that he missed the silence that descended on the office when Agent Grayson stepped off the elevator. He missed the harried whispers and thick air of tension that clouded the agents on the floor. He only looked up when Jones knocked on his office door and spoke, “Uh, Peter. Agent… Grayson’s here. He’s waiting for you in the conference room.”
Peter looked up from his work. Something was off with Jones’s tone, he sounded tense and almost nervous. He sighed; he’d predicted this, Richard Grayson was a massive asshole, because of course he was, “Ok.” Peter said reluctantly, “I’ll head in, in a minute.” Jones nodded and left as fast as his legs could carry him.
Peter sighed as he stood up out of his chair and stretched. He quickly filed away the loose papers and made his way to the conference room, only to freeze in the doorway.
It was Neal.
Of course it was Neal.
Agent Grayson was Neal, because Neal worked for the police and Agent Grayson was scouted from the police. Of course the FBI would scout someone who’d managed to fool so many of their top agents so completely and for such a long period of time.
“Hi, Peter.” Neal. No, Richard said, smiling at him.
Peter surprised himself as he huffed a laugh, “Well that explains why Jones was acting like he saw a ghost.” He said.
Richard laughed, “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the office as quiet as it was when I walked in.” His face turned serious, “It’s really good to see you, Peter.” He breathed out deeply, “I’m sorry… About everything.” He ran a hand through his hair, “I didn’t expect to make any friends doing this.” He smiled grimly, “This whole thing really sucks.”
Peter moved into the conference room and closed the door behind him, sitting down and studying Richard. He was the Neal that Peter knew, but also different. His hair wasn’t gelled in a wave, it was unruly and stuck up in every direction. His posture was different, more relaxed and his smile seemed natural and open in a way Peter had only ever rarely seen from Neal. It struck him that those moments were just a glimpse of the man behind the mask.
Peter let out a long breath and ran a hand over his mouth, “I need an explanation…” He trailed off, not sure how to address him.
“Dick.” Richard said and Peter raised his eyebrows, “It’s short for Richard.” He said, shrugging, “It’s only weird in English.”
Peter filed that away for later, “Okay then. Dick, I need an explanation if this is going to work. You’ve lied to me the entire time we’ve known each other.” He met Dick’s eyes, “I named my child after a lie, Dick.” Peter put extra emphasis on his name and Dick flinched.
“I know.” Dick said softly, “It’s not fair. I know that, believe me, and if it’s any consolation,” He smiled, “Neal isn’t actually that far off from who I really am. Ignoring the whole renowned thief part, my personality is nearly identical and Neal was years of my life. He's real, Peter. In a lot of ways, he’s just as much a real person as I am.” His smile turned sad, “He’s not gone, there’s just more to him than you know.” Peter nodded.
He understood Dick, he truly did. He could easily see himself in his friend’s place, and he understood how going undercover could hurt the people around you, both the ones you meet and the ones you leave behind. He sighed, rubbing his eyes, “Okay, okay. I just have one more thing I need to ask.” He paused, making sure he had Dick’s full attention, “If you have any more secrets, I need you to tell me now. If this happens again, we're done. I need you to be honest. There aren’t any more reasons to lie.” He paused, licking his lips, “Please Dick, no more lies.”
Dick bit his lip, “I do have a few more secrets. I can’t tell the whole office everything, but I can tell you, Jones, and Diana.” Peter nodded.
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Several minutes later the three agents that Dick considered his close friends, were all sitting facing him and waiting for the revelations they were promised. Dick was exhausted, he knew this would be hard, but he hadn’t truly anticipated the immense guilt he would feel talking to the people who trusted him, seemingly even after he did nothing but lie to their faces for the whole time they’d known each other.
“Okay… So. Dick Grayson isn’t my only, ‘alter-ego’.” Dick said, using air quotes and cringing at himself. He took a deep breath, “I’m also a vigilante.” There was a moment of awkward silence before, “Nightwing.” There were a few more beats of silence, “I’m also married. His name’s Wally.” More silence, “He’s the Flash.” Dick shifted as all three agents stared him down, the silence had now stretched on so long that he was getting concerned he’d broken them.
It was Diana who spoke first, “Nightwing?” She asked.
Dick nodded enthusiastically, glad someone decided to speak before he could make more of a fool of himself, “Before that, I was the first Robin, then Nightwing. I was also Batman for a while when we thought B was dead, but he came back, so I went back to Nightwing. So I’m mainly Nightwing… and stuff...” The words burst out of him, falling over each other as he rambled, desperately working to keep away the awkward silence from earlier. If it were for any other reason than this, Dick would find the looks his friends were sporting to be hilarious.
“You were Batman?” Jones asked.
“Yeah, for like a year and a half.” Dick answered.
Jones was looking concerningly pale, “I sang the Batman theme song in front of you.”
Suddenly all the tension in the room broke as Dick let out a laugh that caught both him and the agents, off guard. It took him several minutes to get a handle on himself and by the time he did, everyone had relaxed and his friends looked more bemused than shocked or angry, “I’m… I’m sorry.” He choked out, “It’s just… I wrote that song.” Another round of chuckles, “I used to sing it when we were patrolling to annoy B and it caught on with some Gothamites who overheard me.”
The agents across from him were smiling now as Peter spoke, “You were the first Robin?”
Dick nodded, “Yeah, I’m also the one who added the ‘bat’ to everything Batman uses.” He counted off on his fingers, “Batcave, batmobile, batarangs, batphone. That was all the work of a nine-year-old Dick Grayson.” Dick smiled. Bruce discouraged the names at first, before eventually giving in after he and Alfred had worn him down. Dick’s smile quickly fell when he noticed the stricken looks the three agents across him were suddenly sporting.
“You were Robin when you were nine?” Peter asked quietly.
Dick’s face grew serious as he picked up on what was causing the looks currently plastered across his friend’s faces, “Ah…” He leaned back and ran a hand through his hair, “I started training for it when I was nine, but I didn’t go out until I was ten.” He took a breath, “I can’t defend it, B didn’t make a responsible decision, but I did push for it. I was sneaking out and if he hadn’t given me an outlet, I would’ve gotten myself killed.” He chewed his lip, thinking through his next words, “I know... now anyway, that he could have done better. If I had a kid, I'd do anything and everything in my power to keep them from the life, but in the long run I’m happy how things turned out for me, and I wouldn’t change any of it.”
They all stewed in silence for several moments, “Wait…” Diana had a dawning look of understanding on her face. “Batman…” She stared Dick down, “He’s Bruce Wayne, isn’t he?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject. He knew none of them, particularly Peter, had let the ‘child soldier’ subject go, but he was glad it’d been put on hold, at least for the moment.
The corner of Dick’s mouth ticked up and he nodded. Jones leaned on the table, his head in his hands and Dick saw Peter taking deep breaths, clearly trying to calm himself as his whole world view shifted. Diana was staring blankly at a wall and Dick sighed, waiting for one of them to remember he said he’s married to the Flash. He mentally counted down. Five... Four... Three... Two...
Peter jerked backward suddenly, shaking the table with his abrupt movement, “Wait!” Dick snorted.