Work Text:
Title: For the Record
Rating: R
Warnings: shots fired, minor OC character death
Disclaimer: Anything recognisable belongs to Jeff Eastin
Prompt: From Collarcorner Round 4 - How far will Neal go to protect the team?
Summary: Sometimes it might be better to think before you act. Neal's never been one to stop and think when there's a friend on the line. But that's the thing about hindsight.
AN: I sort of had this going on before I saw this prompt, but I hope it fills the request to some degree.
“Would you state your name for the record, please?”
Diana straightened her shoulders and looked up at the four figures making up the advisory board. Four pairs of impassive eyes stared back at her. She shifted a little in her seat and leant in to the microphone.
She knew that her nerves were superfluous. They couldn’t charge her, surely. Hughes calming hand on her shoulder had been enough to sooth any part of her own brain that disputed what had happened.
She had justified cause.
This was just procedure.
All the same, her nerves were a little frayed and she knew it had done little to soothe Christie’s fears over the whole mess.
“Special Agent Diana Berrigan.”
“And where are you stationed?”
“I work at the New York Field Office under Supervisory Special Agent Peter Burke.”
“Agent Burke is your task leader?”
“He is.”
“And what exactly is Neal Caffrey, Agent Berrigan?”
“Neal Caffrey is a Confidential Informant under work release for the Bureau.”
“He’s a felon?”
“He is.”
“Now tell me, what exactly does Neal Caffrey do for the New York Office?”
“He helps solve cases using his inside intelligence.”
“How does he usually offer this help, Agent?”
“Caffrey is used in both office work and undercover work.”
“You send him out in the field?”
“Agent Burke does, yes.”
“But he was not with Agent Burke on the day of the shooting, was he, Agent Berrigan?”
“No, he was not.”
“He was with you.”
“Yes, he was.”
“Why?”
Diana paused then. She knew how these things went, each fact brought to the table in agonizing scrutiny; it was exactly what she didn’t want to have to do.
Not again.
She went through it enough the day it happened, and then again, every time she closed her eyes.
The inevitable, never-ending what if?
“Neal Caffrey was assigned to work with Special Agent Clinton Jones and I during surveillance on a routine jewellery theft. Special Agent Burke was drawn away from the investigation for the day due to meetings with the Board of Directors.”
“And so he assigned you as Neal Caffrey’s handler?”
“Special Agent Burke did not specify who was in exact control of Caffrey, but between Special Agent Jones and I, we were to supervise him, yes.”
“So you shared the task?”
“Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
“What of Special Agent Andrew Luther?”
“Luther was a temporary Agent assigned to the unit not very long ago, both Special Agent Jones and I are superior, he had no control over Caffrey.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Then please state for the record, Agent Berrigan, why did you tell Neal Caffrey to ‘stay in the van’? I believe the recording clearly states you tell Special Agent Luther to keep an eye on him.”
“I did. This was when Agent Jones and I moved in to arrest Alastair Martin. Neal – “ Diana’s voice wavered and she stopped for a second. The man paused and turned to look at his affiliates and Diana rose her chin and swallowed.
Now was not the time to pause.
“Caffrey did not follow my orders, however it did not impede the investigation. He cornered Mr Martin and allowed us to make an arrest.”
“So Neal Caffrey and Alastair Martin had made contact before the event?”
“They did.”
“So when Alastair Martin shot Mr Caffrey it could have been a deliberate attack, could it not?”
Diana’s nerves shredded and for the briefest second she had to hold herself quiet, hold the impending memories at bay, the short sharp shock of two bullets, the rebuke of her own pistol, the smell of gunpowder and the jarring ache in her shoulder.
She didn’t let herself get any further.
“It could have been, but it wasn’t.”
“Why do you think it wasn’t a deliberate attack, Agent Berrigan?”
“It wasn’t a deliberate attack on Neal Caffrey, it was on me. Neal pushed me out of the way.”
***
When Diana arrived at the office Neal was spinning in his chair with his rubber band ball and Jones was staring at him with a bemused smile on his face. Neither of them were doing anything that looked like work, even though they both had files open on their desks, like a buffer.
It was in that moment she knew that Peter was out.
“Diana!” Neal grinned, spinning his chair to face her before Jones had time to pick up his slouch, even though Neal had his head previously leaned back away from her.
Diana tried to keep her smile as pinned back as she could given the abrupt look on Jones’ face at getting caught.
“Hey, where’s Peter?” she asked, leaning her hip against Jones’ desk, glancing up at the run of empty offices.
“Conference room on twenty two. Board meeting.”
“Ah.” So she wasn't wrong why the boys were slouching. While the cat’s away; she smiled.
“I thought we were doing surveillance today?”
“We are,” Jones said, cocking his head.
“We were waiting for you,” Neal said, mock serious but with a frown that quickly turned into a stupid blinding smile on his face. He was in one of his moods; the day was either going to go stupidly fast, or ridiculously slow. Neal, she knew, however, was going to be entertained the whole way through.
“Aww, well aren’t you sweet?” she smirked and Neal perked up a little. Jones just laughed and shook his head.
“I’ll call it in and let the others know we’re coming.”
“You were trying to put it off as long as you could, weren’t you?”
“Always,” Jones murmured as he reached for his phone.
That was how it started. Easy. Simple.
There was nothing they had to suggest it could be anything more than a case to keep them out of the Desperation Box of Mortgage and Medicare Fraud.
***
“Tell me, Agent, in your own words what happened when you left the surveillance van.”
Diana took a moment before she opened her mouth. It was getting harder and harder to remember that this was just routine, that this investigation was not completely out to strip her of her badge and her career. It was happening to prove what she had done was necessary. That there had been no other choice. It was for her own protection, and the protection of the Bureau, but all the same, the scrutiny was almost unbearable.
“Our team was watching the temporary accommodations of one Alastair Martin who we had linked to a recent chain of robberies. He was deemed of no substantial risk, just a simple run of the mill case. The day of the shooting we had no intention of bringing him in. It was just surveillance while we built the case. I was there along with Special Agents Clinton Jones and Andrew Luther and after several hours a well known drug trafficker by the name of Doug Chamberlain arrived at the premises. Over the feed we heard an exchange being made between them. Chamberlain has been wanted for months, we took this moment to bring him in. Special Agent Jones called for backup, however the altercation between the two men escalated and we proceeded to intervene before either man escaped. We managed to corner Chamberlain who gave up easily, however Martin tried to run. I called for Agent Luther to catch him as he went for the back door while I gave chase. However instead of Agent Luther, Neal Caffrey was the one who blocked Martin’s exit and I apprehended the man. At this point backup had arrived. Special Agent Jones was handling Doug Chamberlain with Agent Maxwell and Agent Crowley was to assist Agent Luther, who I gave Martin into his custody.”
“Why did you pass Alastair Martin over to Agent Luther to finalize, Agent Berrigan?”
“Agent Luther, while younger than I, sir, was a competent Agent and needed no help. I left him to arraign Martin, where I proceeded to talk to Caffrey, who had gone into the adjoining room to go over the stolen jewellery and art left by the two thieves.”
“What did you say to Mr Caffrey?”
“I told him off for disobeying orders.”
“You reprimanded him?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Neal Caffrey does good work for us, he’s helped the Unit clear a 93% closure rate, but he can be hotheaded and brash. I reminded him of the rules, that I told him to stay in the van.”
“And what was Mr Caffrey’s reaction?”
“I don’t see how this is relevant.”
“Everything is relevant, Agent Berrigan. Were you upset with Mr Caffrey?”
“To a degree, yes. Again, I don’t see how this has issue – “
“So you were emotionally unstable when you shot Alastair Martin?”
Diana made herself stop before she answered. A part of her was ready to jump, to jump down the damn man’s throat and tie a knot in his trachea.
She hadn’t been emotionally unstable that day in the warehouse, but right that damn moment she was.
“I was not emotionally unstable, no.” She forced herself to answer, as civil as she could. It was a stretch.
“But you were upset.”
“Yes, but when I shot Martin I was on the ground, he had a gun and he’d just shot our consultant, it’s got nothing to do with my being upset with our CI.”
***
Diana watched as Luther took Martin’s linked arms before she turned around and let her focus wander in search of Neal. The main room was empty, which wasn’t unusual; Neal didn’t really like to hang around for the main show. When the actual arresting was done he was always hanging back. The moment the cuffs were on and the hand lowering their crim’s head into the car he would saunter over and smile, but until then, he stayed hidden.
Today was no exception. Wandering through to the second room she breathed a sigh as she caught sight of Neal on his haunches staring at a painting and chatting aimlessly with a young responding agent. The girl looked happier looking at Neal than at the painting he was trying to explain to her. The moment Diana neared them Neal turned his gaze from the agent to Diana, increasing the wattage of his smile. It was his ‘I’m not doing anything,’ smile, and it was one he saved only for her. Peter got a different one. Perhaps the real one. But Diana liked hers.
The young agent took a look at Neal looking at Diana and then wandered away. Diana ignored her. They all had work to do.
“Neal, what did I say about you staying in the van?” she asked stopping in front of Neal, and for a moment Neal looked caught between wanting to look sheepish and looking uncaring. Eventually he just smiled.
“You know me and the van, Diana, we never get along.”
“Well one day you’re going to have to get over your little disagreement, Neal, because – “
However she didn’t get any further, which in the second Neal’s expression changed and his body tensed she was a little annoyed at. She hadn’t got to go into the bit she had about making it look like he didn’t have any respect for them or that they couldn’t handle working with him without Peter to oversee. Which was hardly fair on her or Jones. After all, she’d come back to New York to help him and Peter, which had been a step back for her career, god damn it.
Except she didn’t get any chance for that speech, because there were two muted noises from the adjacent room and Neal went tense immediately, and his eyes widened just a bit before he was rising to his feet.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, looking just a bit alarmed. Diana had, and her own sense of warning was on high alert, her hand went to her gun. However, whatever had happened in the other room was already over, and she wasn’t quite fast enough - because as she started to turn all she saw was Neal’s terrified face before he lunged out and shoved her. She went sprawling to the pavement with a curse, her shoulder jarring, sending a sharp wave of pain right through her as two shots echoed in her ears.
Above her, Neal jolted.
Before he could stutter and his knees go weak. Before it had probably even reached his boneheaded brain what he’d just done, Diana had her gun in hand and up, aimed directly at Alastair Martin whose gun was still drawn at Neal.
She fired twice herself. She hit both times, not two seconds after Neal had taken two bullets to the chest.
Her two bullets.
Four shots.
Two for Neal, two for Martin.
Neal still hit the ground first, with a jarring gasp that sent his eyes wide and his body completely slack.
Every time she closed her eyes since, Diana could still see the dark swelling stain and the instant grey pallor of his skin as he slumped, the ring of gunshots still echoing in her ears and the growing shouts of the assisting personnel, her own loudest of all.
“Man down!”
***
“So you went in to reprimand Mr Caffrey who proceeded to save your life, is that correct, Agent Berrigan?”
“I went to make sure Neal understood his obligations to not only myself and Agent Jones, but for his own safety. But yes, that is what happened.”
“What happened next?”
“I applied pressure to Caffrey’s wounds until Emergency arrived. Agent Jones took Doug Chamberlain into custody. The EMT’s announced Agent Luther and Alastair Martin DOA.”
“Did anyone try to revive Alastair Martin?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
“Why not?”
“From my understanding he was dead instantly. However, my own attentions were elsewhere.”
“On Mr Caffrey.”
“On Neal, yes.”
***
“Diana!”
In all the years she had worked with Peter Burke, Diana had never seen him wear the expression he had when he stormed into the waiting room of the hospital.
“What the hell happened?”
“Heya Boss,” she murmured, reflexively tucking her hands out of sight. She couldn’t quite get all the blood out from under her nails. Peter didn’t need to see that.
Not when he was wearing genuine confusion all over his face. She could almost feel him buzzing with anger and frustration, and knowing Peter, a whole lot of guilt at not being there to back up his team.
“Martin freaked out, picked the cuffs and stole Luther’s gun. Neal pushed me out of the way.”
“Where is he?”
“They took him up to surgery when we came in. Nothing’s been said yet.”
Peter had his hands on his hips and he turned away from her.
“What the hell made Martin spook so bad he took down three people?”
“Doug Chamberlain showed up; I’m guessing it all had something to do with that. What I don’t know. But whatever it was, it spooked a guy we didn’t think was hostile into – “ she didn’t finish.
Peter didn’t make her.
“How bad is he?” Peter asked her after a moment, and Diana faltered.
She couldn’t really lie, not to Peter. Not to her boss, the FBI agent. But surely as a friend, she should.
“It was bad, boss,” she said and Peter nodded. From the look on his face it was an answer he’d been fearing.
***
“What do you believe happened that made Alastair Martin steal Agent Luther’s gun, Agent Berrigan?”
“That I don’t know. Prior to the bust Alastair Martin was not regarded as a physical danger to anyone. It was rumoured that the warehouse in question was the site he picked for several business ventures and when we linked him to the theft the building was the most likely he’d hide them in.”
“And how did you come to that assumption, Agent?”
“Neal Caffrey.”
“Mr Caffrey helped you track down Alastair Martin?”
“He did.”
“So theoretically, Alastair Martin could have been shooting for Caffrey.”
“He could have been, yes. Theoretically. However if it was me, I would have taken out the FBI agent with the gun than the man without one.”
“Your opinion is noted, Agent.”
***
“Hughes called while you were enroute. I have to surrender my badge and gun until a hearing. OPR want an investigation.”
Diana watched as her boss sighed, his shoulders slumping a little more than they already had. That was a feat.
“Are you alright? I didn’t ask.” He sounded guilty.
“Don’t stress it boss. It’s part of the job. Sometimes, you have to –“ she didn’t finish and Peter didn’t make her. The waiting room was shrouded in quiet.
***
“Given your experience Agent Berrigan, would you have done anything different in the lead up to what happened on March seventeenth?”
Diana took a breath. This was a hard question to answer. Her own brain had been revolving around and around asking it again and again since that moment, and she still didn’t have a good enough answer.
“At the time, given the same circumstances, if I didn’t know what was about to happen, then no, I would change nothing. Luthor was a good Agent, Samuel Crowley still is, he has eight years of service under his belt. They’re good people. Good agents, I’d still trust them, and given what we knew about Alastair Martin, I would proceed the same way we did. What happened was unfortunate and the reasons for what happened I believe died with Alastair Martin. There is nothing I can change. If I could stop it happening? Then of course, but I can’t, and no amount of questioning can change anything either.”
“You believe you did everything you could? Even though it ended with the death of a fellow Agent, as well as the critical shooting of both a second agent and your consultant?”
“I do.”
***
Diana had been to the hospital enough over the years to be familiar with the bright lights and the chemical smell that invaded her nostrils. In all the times she’s been there to see Christie, or pick her up after a twelve hour shift – in all the times she’d been inside, she’d never really experienced it the way she had in the last week.
She understood the tension and the panic in people’s eyes now. Thankfully that blind panic and misguided guilt had disappeared from Peter’s gaze. Neal was awake and set up against a mound of pillows that looked too comfortable and expensive to belong in a hospital ward and bespoke of June and Mozzie. The small paranoid was absent as Diana knocked on the doorway. Peter had to turn around to see who Neal was grinning at. He was still pale and there was always a hint of either pain behind his eyes, or the glassy lack of focus that came with riding his morphine drip too much whenever she’d seen him since the shooting. Today there seemed neither as Diana smiled and walked in.
“Hey Diana,” Neal grinned. He looked so much better, so much closer to his normal self it was almost alarming. Just a week ago his blood was all over her hands and his eyelids were fluttering as his eyes rolled back in his head. The sound of her heart had been thundering in her ears as she’d tried to put pressure on the two bullet holes in his chest that had been meant for her.
Diana sighed as she neared the bed, Neal hefted himself higher up into the pillows with a barely contained wince and Peter shook his head at him.
“How’d it go?” Diana was a little surprised to find Neal being the one to ask the question. He’d been off his face on morphine when she’d told him about the investigation, out of courtesy and an abundant lack of anything to say. He mustn’t have been as out of it as she thought.
“You remembered,” she smiled and he mock pouted.
“You think I’d forget what was happening to my savior?”
He hadn’t stopped calling her that, though. How that had gotten through his head she didn’t know. He had been the one to push her out of the way, not the other way around.
“You were off your face last time I was here,” she murmured and Peter was smiling. Neal just grinned.
“Clearly I wasn’t,” he said, matter of fact. This time Peter snorted.
“Mozzie reminded him earlier, and we’ve been watching the time since.”
“Mozzie mentioned it?” she asked, a little surprised.
“Peter did as well.” Neal pointed out, clearly still with his double share of tact. Probably had Peter’s share of tact. That wasn’t what she’d meant though, a fact which Peter actually seemed to get more than Neal.
“He’s been keen to be kept up to date with what’s been going on. Especially to do with Neal’s hero.”
“I’m not – “ she tried but Neal jumped in.
“You stopped me bleeding out. That’s hero enough for me.”
Two minutes, that’s how long the paramedics said he would have had if Diana hadn’t kept her hands in place.
“You pushed me out of the way.” She accused.
“You’re welcome,” Neal said, in the same sort of way a child would shout snap!
He clearly didn’t get it quite yet. She wasn’t sure he would. Neal was all kinds of stubborn in all kinds of ways, some she knew well enough by now, others she was still learning. Peter was shaking his head again which clearly meant he understood more than she did. Diana just bowed her head.
Neal plodded on.
“So, how’d we go?”
“We?”
“You?” he admonished.
“I’m back,” she shrugged. Neal’s smile brightened.
“Good. Everything’s back to normal.”
Diana looked up at him. He was still a little pale, and he looked weaker, like a good breeze would knock him over, but he was also so much better than he had been. He wasn’t one hundred percent and things wouldn’t be back to normal until he was. Things weren’t all right.
But they would be, and that was the important thing and in its own way it was enough.