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Neal was having a horrible day. The kind where you wake up and the moment you get out of bed everything goes wrong. The CI walked out of his apartment exhausted and less put together than usual. When Peter asked what was wrong, Neal simply replied ‘bad morning,’ and stared out the window. Taking that as the dismissal it was, Peter silently started the car and headed off work.
Halfway to the office, Peter had to slam his brakes because an aggressive driver cut him off. The sudden stop threw Neal forward, and while his seatbelt stopped him from slamming into the dash, it apparently aggravated one of the younger man’s many aches and pains if Neal’s hiss was anything to go off of. Peter started to apologize, but Neal waved him off saying it wasn’t his fault.
Once they reached the office, Neal plopped down at his desk without a single complaint or smart remark which worried everyone in the vicinity because it was a cold day in hell when Neal didn’t give some sort of comment on the misery that was mortgage fraud, but nobody pushed since Neal looked downright miserable.
Peter started getting worried when Neal didn’t eat his lunch. The ex-con man did pull it out, but he simply stared at it for a few measly minutes before setting it aside and getting back to work. What Peter ate in an entire day Neal usually ate in one sitting, and Neal never skipped meals. Ever. Peter had noticed that Neal tended to eat like he expected to never eat again. So Neal not eating was a huge red flag for him.
Neal was also obviously in pain by the way he kept rubbing the joints in his right hand, but he never brought it up to Peter. Sometimes if his hands were hurting badly enough, Neal would hide a heat or ice pack in his coat pocket to give himself some relief when people weren’t looking, but he didn’t today. Peter couldn’t tell if Neal was too caught up in his own head to bother, using the pain to distract himself from something, or if it stemmed from some other reason.
For the vast majority of the day, Neal stayed silent. Deathly so. It was so unusual that Peter had four different people drop by his desk and ask if Neal was okay. He hated that all he could say was ‘I don’t know.’ Neal was his friend. Arguably his best friend. He should know what’s going on or at least how to help.
During the last few hours of work, Peter tried to lighten Neal’s mood. He gave Neal a package of chocolates he’d been saving for such an occasion with the excuse that El must have accidentally stuck them in his bag instead of hers. During a brief meeting, he made sure to not call on or address Neal unless he inserted himself into the conversation. Hell, he even asked Neal to make an origami penguin for him because his office was getting boring. Unfortunately, nothing worked. He could tell that Neal appreciated the gestures, but something kept bogging him down.
When it came time to go home, Peter kept up a constant stream of mindless chatter to hopefully help distract his friend from whatever was going on. As he pulled up to June’s, Peter asked carefully, “Do you mind if I come inside for a bit? I’m worried about you.” Neal gave a quiet ‘sure’ in response and got out of the car, leaving Peter to scramble out after him.
By the time Peter had righted himself, Neal was already up the stairs and inside his apartment. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself for a potentially emotional conversation, he made his way up the stairs and let himself into Neal’s place. When he opened the door, he was greeted with the sight of Neal pacing the length of his living room.
Quietly closing the door, Peter crosses the room, sits in his usual spot, and gently asks, “What’s going on Neal?”
“Don’t- don’t call me that,” Neal replied in a distressed tone and the pacing seemed to pick up. It was silent for a moment while Peter processed what his friend had said, but when he’d decided to say something, Neal continued speaking. “I’m so sick of pretending to be someone I’m not. It’s always been a part of my life but I used to have people I could be myself around. People who knew every part of me. I just want my family back. I just want to go home!”
Neal was on the verge of tears by the end of his outburst, and Peter was taken aback by the sudden influx of emotions. Carefully, he says, “That’s understandable, and I’m so sorry you’re in this situation. What can I do to help? You know you can confide in me, but I understand if you’re not comfortable-”
“Jason,” Neal, no Jason, said abruptly. “Neal died two years ago.”
Peter’s brain seemed to short-circuit. How could Neal be dead when he’s right here? “What do you mean Neal died? Do you mean you dropped the identity then or…’ He trailed off, leaving it open for Jason to answer.
“I was separated from my family roughly four years ago. Some of his enemies kidnapped me and tried to turn me into a tool to use against him. I escaped, but due to some unforeseen circumstances I and some of my captor’s minions ended up here.”
Jason gestured vaguely around, and before Peter could ask exactly where ‘here’ was, his friend barreled on. “I accidentally stumbled into the middle of one of Neal’s heists. My entrance tripped the alarm, and I helped him get out. He practically adopted me since I knew what I was doing and didn’t have anywhere to go. It worked out for a year, and then he was murdered. Because of me. I’ve been fine for ages and then a stupid nightmare has to go and drag everything back up.”
Raking a hand down his face, Jason all but collapsed into the chair across from Peter with his head in his hands, seeming to be drowning in grief. After a tense minute, a mirthless chuckle comes from Jason. “Neal always used to quote that Harry Potter saying that death was just the next great adventure whenever he was about to do something stupid. It’s not, and I told him as much. I guess now he knows that for himself.”
As for Peter, he was having trouble absorbing all the information thrown at him. Peter had been tracking Neal Caffrey for four years before he finally caught up to him. The criminal was his obsession throughout that entire period, but somehow he never realized that Neal Caffrey was two different people…or that one of them died.
“Wait, adopted? How old were you when Neal found you?”
Peter felt the urge to hold his breath as he waited for Jason to answer. Jason momentarily froze before sinking further into his hands. “Nineteen,” he said softly. That one word held so much weight that it punched a gasp out of Peter. Jason was a kid. And he said he’d been ripped away from his family for four years. Peter’s heart hurt for Jason, enough so that he was able to tamp down the immediate knee-jerk response to lecture his friend for underage drinking and getting involved in all kinds of dangerous stuff. If Peter thought his protective instincts toward ‘Neal’ were bad before, they were nothing in comparison to how he was going to be from now on.
“Is there anything I can do to help you? Anything that would make you more comfortable?” Peter asked hopefully. All the new information he’d gotten tonight alongside all the past revelations and his own assumptions painted a horrible, isolating picture, and he wanted to do everything in his power to make Jason’s burden just a little bit lighter.
Jason hesitated, unsure about how he should reply. Eventually, he asked, “When it’s just us, could you call me Jason? It’s been so long since anyone’s said my name that I don’t feel like me anymore.”
“Of course Jason. On that note, is it okay if I tell El? She’s been worried about you for a while now and would love to help.” Jason nodded gratefully, and Peter gave him a warm smile. “Everything’s going to be okay. I know it’s tough right now, but it will work out for you. You’re a good kid, and you deserve the best.”
Jason gave him a watery smile before joking, “Are you going to make a thing out of calling me ‘kid?’ If so, I already regret telling you anything.”
“Hey, I’ve got to make the most of this situation! Now that I have something I can lord over you, I’m not going to give it up!” The two chucked good naturedly at the welcomed reprieve from the heavy atmosphere, and then Peter asked, “Tea?”
“Absolutely,” came Jason’s instant reply, and Peter quickly got up to start brewing it. A few minutes later when he handed the tea to Jason and they drank in amiable silence, Peter was relieved to see that Jason's hands slowly stopped shaking and the turmoil in his expression started to fade.
He knew calling Jason by name and a cup of tea wouldn’t fix much, but it was a start. And that was something he could work with.