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Strange things started happening whenever Neal was nearby about a week ago. In fact, Neal himself was also acting strange. Peter first started noticing it when his friend was cracking jokes as normal when he suddenly broke off mid sentence. When he’d turned to see why Neal had stopped so abruptly, the ex-criminal’s face was pale. But when Peter had pressed, the young man brushed him off and resumed his steady stream of conversation. However, he was visibly distracted.
After that, someone had broken into his car in broad daylight while they had gone into a restaurant for lunch. No one had seen anything, there were no fingerprints, and no leads. Nothing appeared to have been stolen or damaged besides the window, but Neal was antsy after that.
A few days ago, he saw a guy straight up disappear between one blink and the next, and he thought he saw a shadow following him. Investigating both was a dead end.
And today, well, Neal suddenly started gasping and wheezing out of the blue. The pain he was in was blatantly obvious, and that worried Peter because Neal more often than not still did his damnedest to hide when he was hurt. But when he was asked what was wrong, he waved it off and said everything was fine.
Peter made the executive decision to take Neal home early after that. A decision that he was incredibly grateful for when Neal struggled to even get out of the car and had to be half-dragged up the stairs.
As soon as the door was shut behind them and Neal dumped on the couch, Peter demanded, “Okay Neal, what’s going on?”
Per usual, Neal was mulled over if he should tell the truth or not. And if he did, how much of the truth he should reveal. At first, he looked like he was ready to open up, but he must have thought of something negative because his expression shuttered before he plastered on his mask.
“Nothing Peter. Just the same old aches and pains. They’re just a tad bit more unpleasant today than usual.” Neal’s voice was bright, but that couldn’t fool him. With how much time they’ve spent together, Peter’s gotten quite good at reading his friend’s body language and seeing beyond the showy exterior Neal often hid his true self behind.
It was times like these that the skill came in handy. Peter completely ignored the false cheer and just watched for a second. What he saw was a lot of pain, uncertainty, and surprisingly, some anger. He almost didn’t recognize the hostile emotion because he rarely saw his friend upset. He kept his negative emotions on a tight leash, and his anger was no different.
“No, something’s clearly off. You’ve been weird all week. But more importantly, you wouldn’t have been able to climb the stairs without me. I’ve never seen you like that before, and it’s worrying me!”
Neal shook his head and was about to refute Peter’s claims when he suddenly turned white as a sheet and started shaking. “Neal?” Peter asked as he moved closer, but there was no response. He tried again with the same result. Ripping out his phone, he says, “That’s it, I’m calling an ambulance.”
“No!” Neal forces out between wheezing pants. Visibly struggling to scrape himself together, he gasps out, “I’m fine; it’ll pass in a bit. Besides, a doctor can’t help with this.”
Holding his phone in a silently concerned threat, Peter asks suspiciously, “What do you mean a doctor can’t help with this? You’re clearly in pain and you’re on the verge of passing out! Neal, what’s happening?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain?” the younger man said shakily.
Peter wasn’t having it, though. “Spill or I can and will drag you to the hospital.”
“Well…it’s poison,” Neal forced out from between gritted teeth. And according to his body language, his CI was telling the truth.
The phone fell out of Peter’s hand and clattered to the floor glaringly loudly in the silence following Neal’s admission. “What?” Peter said in a tone full of nothing but the forced calm he’d learned through his time in the FBI. “If you’ve been poisoned, we need to get you to the hospital right this second! Why are you trying to suffer through it without a medical professional? Neal, it’s killing you!”
“I’m fine,” Neal said as he waved dismissively. “It’s a poison that doesn’t exist here, and even if it did, no hospital would have the antidote.”
Peter was fuming now. He knew Neal could be rather cavalier with his own health, but this was going too far. This was a matter of life and death! “So what? You’re content to give up and just lay down and die?!”
“No!” the ex-criminal snapped back harshly before cutting himself off with a hiss of pain. “I’ll be fine in a couple days. I’ve built up an immunity, so all I have to do is wait it out.”
Pacing nervously as he mulls over his friend’s words, Peter eventually asks, “And you’re sure you’ll be fine? There’s nothing a hospital can do to help?”
“None whatsoever. Anything they try will just increase the pain or deadliness, so it’s safer to not even give them the chance,” came the unpleasant reply.
Running a hand through his hair, Peter switched priorities now that he knew what was ailing Neal and that he couldn’t do anything to help on that front. But just because he couldn’t make Neal feel better didn’t mean he couldn’t use all the resources at his disposal to hunt down the people who hurt the kid.
“Who did this to you? What do we need to do to keep them from getting to you again? I need to know everything about these people because I will not let them hurt you anymore!”
That got a chuckle out of Neal, which confused the hell out of him. “Thanks Peter, but there isn’t anything you can do about them. They’re- I’m not sure how to explain it.” After a pause, Neal asked tentatively, “You’ve seen my scars, haven’t you?”
Peter nodded uncomfortably, because the image of his friend’s torn and bloody skin still haunted his dreams. He had never asked about them because whatever had caused that sort of damage must have been deeply traumatizing and he was content waiting for an explanation, but now that the moment was here, he almost didn’t want to know.
“The people who poisoned me are predominantly the ones who tortured me as well. They’re a dangerous organization that you won’t be able to do anything against. In fact, trying to root them out will only make you a target and me a bigger one. All I need you to do is act like nothing’s wrong and let me handle this.”
Spluttering, Peter yelled, “Act like nothing’s wrong?! They’re trying to kill you! Neal, for god’s sake the only reason you’re not dying right now is because of some immunity you likely never asked for in the first place!”
“I have enemies that you can’t even comprehend! They’re assassin’s, for hell’s sake!” Neal burst out, seemingly at his limit from the pain and stress. Reeling himself in, Neal said in a tone bordering on begging, “Peter, please, I need you to trust me on this. Just by telling you this, I am trusting you more than anybody I’ve ever interacted with on this entire planet. I swear, I’m not being careless with my safety, and I have a plan. So please, trust me.”
Every word out of Neal’s mouth was accompanied by pain, but it didn’t drown out the earnestness in his voice. He truly thought he could handle this.” He hated this. He should put Neal in witness protection or something. Instead, he hears himself begrudgingly bite out, “Fine, but there will be ground rules. Whenever you notice they’re near, you tell me, and we’ll wrap things up. If you’re hurt or you think you’re in danger, you tell me. And you need to fill me in on as much of your plan as possible.”
“Deal,” his friend breathed out in relief. “I have some old contacts who owe me some very big favors. I’m going to call in some if not all of those favors to see if they can’t scare these guys off my back. Preferably permanently, but they’ll likely pop up again in a year or two, so I’ll take what I can get.”
Dropping down on the couch next to Neal with a sigh, he asks worriedly, “What kind of contacts could an art thief and forger have that would be able to swing something like this?”
“Alleged,” Neal snarked through a shudder of pain. “An absolutely brutal crime syndicate’s boss in Japan had his mother’s portrait stolen. Another gang was holding it for ransom or something. It was the only painting of her he had, so he was desperate to have it returned. I managed to snag it and also painted a few variations based on the original so he’d have some variety, and he swore the equivalent of a blood oath to help whenever I needed aid. Similar things occurred with equally dangerous people across the globe, and I’ve just never needed to call the favors in till now.”
Peter was nodding along in understanding even though he was concerned by what these crooks’ methods would be, but then something dawned on him. “Why didn’t you call in any of those favors sooner? Why not right before I caught you? Or even while we were transporting you back to the States?”
Neal looked distinctly uncomfortable at the question for some reason. “There were a lot of reasons, but the short story is I was tired of being on the run from both you and my abusers. I figured being in FBI custody would help me disappear enough from these guys’ radar, so I took a gamble. Worked for a while, but now they’ve caught on.”
“And here I thought I caught you because I’d finally outsmarted you!” Peter joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. He was a tad bit miffed that Neal was implying that Peter hadn’t caught him by his own merits, but his friend was literally doubled over in pain from poison, so he could put his feelings aside. For now.
Thankfully, the joke worked because Neal turned back toward him with a look mixed between amusement and confusion. “You’re okay with this?”
“I’m just grateful you told me. I trust you, and so long as you keep your end of the deal, I’ll let your, ugh, contacts, handle this. Try not to cause an international incident or level New York. I’m more worried about you right now. Anything I can grab for you? Anything you want to talk about?”
Shaking his head, Neal replies, “I really just need to sleep this off. But thanks. For everything.”
“I’m here for you. No matter what.”
As Neal started drifting off on the couch, he muttered urgently, “Peter, if you ever hear the League of Shadows mentioned, run. Okay? Promise me you’ll get out of there the first chance you get.”
“Okay. I promise I’ll bail if I hear them mentioned.” With that, Neal fell into a fitful sleep and Peter stood watch, pondering everything he’d just learned and feeling like the puzzle that was Neal Caffrey just grew more confusing the more he learned.