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Elizabeth would hate herself for it later, but when the bank robbery first started, she genuinely did wonder, just for a moment, if Neal was in on it. If, after all this time, this was all part of some elaborate con. That she was just going to be another pawn in his games.
Then, Neal stepped in front of her, shielding her behind him, one arm reaching back to keep a hand on her arm, thumb rubbing soft circles to comfort her, and she realized what a ridiculous thought that was for her to have.
She had been the one that derailed their plans last minute by needing to stop by the bank that day. Neal had gotten two tickets to a local exhibit, and when Peter brushed off taking him on the account of needing to go to a stakeout, Elizabeth had offered. Technically, Neal was only supposed to go outside his radius when accompanied by an FBI agent, but the two of them had teamed up against Peter to reason that how different was Elizabeth really.
Maybe that whole conversation was what had planted the idea of Neal betraying her in her mind. Still, she had believed he would, even for a split second.
Elizabeth had to lean slightly to see around him. Two people, all dressed in black, complete with ski masks, held up large guns at the crowd. “Hands in the air!” One yelled, gesturing with the gun. “We’ll be coming around to collect all your phones and cash. As long as no one makes any moves, you all will be going home tonight.”
Elizabeth could barely hear them over how loud her heart raced. The room had suddenly felt like it was boiling to her, and sweat beaded up on every inch of her skin. She forced herself to swallow hard, to tamp down the fear that was trying to overpower her, before she started to lift her arms.
Stay calm, stay cool, that’s always what Peter told her. Panic is what gets you in trouble.
One robber stayed in the center of the room while the other starts to go amongst the people. Where they started meant her and Neal would be some of the last ones to go. She could almost see when Neal realized the same information, because his body started to turn ever so slowly. His arms hadn’t been up yet, in fact one was in his pant’s pocket.
In a sudden rush, she understood how Peter felt. Neal couldn’t follow simple instructions even when they were being pointed at with guns. What was he going to do, con his way out of a bank robbery?
Apparently yes, because he leaned over slightly closer to her, whispering so softly while he barely moved his mouth, “I’m sorry, just trust me, yeah?”
She barely resisted slapping him when she felt Neal’s hand at the edge of her pencil skirt, because what the actual hell was he thinking? But when he pulled back and finally raised his hands, there was still a new pressure against the skin of her back, tucked under her shirt.
Neal’s phone. Of course.
Elizabeth now doubly understood how Peter felt. Neal did ridiculous, risky stuff that made perfect sense only after he did them. No wonder her husband came home so often worked up over the man.
The robber finally got to them, and Elizabeth held her breath as they grabbed her right arm and pulled it down to slide her purse from her shoulder. They looked through it, found her phone and wallet, and tossed them back to their buddy across the room. Then they moved on to Neal.
Neal held perfectly still as the man ran his hands over him, expression blank. The masked robber found Neal’s wallet quickly, tossed it behind them, and continued to search.
Elizabeth was surprised when, only a moment later, they pulled out Neal’s phone. If that was his phone, what had he slid under her skirt? What in the world was his plan here?
She had no time to consider these questions though, because the robber had reached into Neal’s suit jacket and pulled out a familiar looking black bifold.
His FBI badge.
“Listen, man,” Neal whispered softly, clearly trying to get ahead of the story the robber was about to put together. “I’m nothing, I swear. See where it says consultant? I’m a criminal consultant for the white collar division. You know what that means? Means they took me out of prison to work for them, checking fake IDs and tracking down credit card fraud. I’m a step above the drug sniffing dogs. I’m nothing, let alone any threat to you.”
It wasn’t enough though. Just seeing the letters F.B.I. had the guy spooked.
In a flash, the butt of the large gun was swung against Neal’s face, sending him to the ground.
“Neal!” Elizabeth yelled. Armed gunmen be damned, she dropped down next to him. Well, she still kept them in mind, because she didn’t turn her back to them in case the object under her skirt could be seen. “He was telling the truth, I swear. He’s not even trained to fight, he wasn’t going to do anything.”
“Well, he’s certainly not going to now.”
Neal had a palm pressed to the side of his head, a nasty gash forming. Elizabeth slid the cardigan she was wearing off and folded it up to press against his head. “El, don’t—”
“Shh, it’s fine. I have others.” She glared at the armed robber as he finished grabbing from the few other people who had been, but made herself stop when he pointed the gun at them again.
“Now!” The other robber said as his buddy went back to his side. “Get on the floor, against the wall, and don’t fucking move. My pal will be here to watch you and make sure no funny business happens while I clear out the back.”
Neal doesn’t move at the orders though, eyes squinted shut. “Neal, sweetie, come on.”
“Mmph,” Neal groans a bit, forcing his eyes open. “Wha?” His pupils were about twice as large as they’d had been mere moments ago, and while Elizabeth knew less about medicine than she did about catching bad guys, she knew that was a bad sign.
A fresh wave of panic hit her, because then she felt both alone and responsible for Neal. Neal had been protecting her, he had the plan of action, the smarts to get them out of this. Now it was just her, a phone tucked into her back, and Neal Caffrey with a head injury.
She blinked away tears and took a deep breath, then caught a random stranger and asked for their help. “Here, honey, we’re going to pull you over here, okay? Just hold on.”
“Don't’ call me tha’. S’Peter’s.” Neal slurs slightly as Elizabeth and the kind stranger grab his wrists to pull him over to the wall. Elizabeth doesn’t know if it’s the best decision, but she also has them help her sit him up before she sits down next to him, replacing her cardigan against his head to cover up the head wound.
Neal dropped his head against her shoulder, and she wrapped her arm around his waist, supporting him. “It’s okay honey, Peter wouldn’t mind sha—” But she had to clam up as the robber walked past them, glaring at them down. That time, Elizabeth let herself glare back. Her fear was starting to turn to anger, especially with a slumped over Neal against her. She would figure out how to get them out of her, and she would make sure that Peter made them pay.
Once back the guard started walking the other direction, she pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Neal’s head, using the action to cover up her mouth. “Neal, listen, what did you give me earlier? Need you to tell me so I can use it.”
Neal sighed a bit in thought, eyebrows furrowing as if he was forced to think hard. “Emergency phone. Only calls Moz. Spee’ial two.” Neal went quiet then, and she waited patiently as he thought something over. He tried to start to speak again, but the guard started walking back over, and Elizabeth panicked and pinched his side to quiet him. They were both tense as they waited, but Elizabeth would swear she could feel Neal slightly shaking as he waited.
Once the guard had walked away, Elizabeth let out a small breath before she started to twist her free arm behind her back, ready to get to work on the next step.
She was stopped by Neal’s hand, which shook slightly, and came up to grab her. It was nearly the same way he’d grabbed her earlier to soothe her, a hand on her arm, thumb moving in a small pattern. When he spoke though, it’s strained and thick, and Elizabeth realized with a cracking heart that he was crying. Damnit, he must’ve really been in pain then. “You, El, no, needs message in morse code, and I— I can’t— I’m sorry—”
Neal had never looked like this to her before. So…despondent. It confused her for a moment, but then it clicked. “No, Neal, shhh, listen.” She brought the arm that had behind her back forward once more to unfold the cardigan, then used a clean edge to wipe the tears off his face. “Listen, my husband is a little insane, right? He taught me how to avoid being tailed. I know how to send a message in morse code. Don’t worry, you don’t have to explain a message to me.” Maybe it was the angle, or just that Neal was practically tucked into her, half limp and slightly bloodied, but it the sight made her heartsick. “Do not worry, understand? I’ll get us out of here.”
She pressed another kiss to his head, this time leaving a smudge of lipstick against his forehead, just below his hairline. Then, she sat back up and focused on trying to unsuspiciously use the phone behind her back. She tried to be mindful of everything she could, practiced hitting the buttons a couple times to figure out the timing she would need, and at how close the guard would most likely be able to tell she was doing something suspicious.
So, when the moment was perfect, she found the two button, then hit call.
She wasn’t prepared for the ringing to be so loud in the quiet room. It was dull, but in a silent marble bank? It was definitely audible.
Her heart jumps in her throat and her stomach freefalls, and she starts to try to find the end call button. Maybe Mozzie getting a call would be enough to cause him suspicion, he was pretty paranoid after all.
Neal suddenly moved. He forced himself to sit up higher, and coughed. Not a subtle cough, throat clearing either, but full body, lung clearing cough. He coughed, and coughed, and coughed, until he was doubled over.
"Neal?" Elizabeth asked, as worry mixed with panic. She didn't know concussions, but surely coughing fits weren't part of them? It didn't make any sense.
It was only when Elizabeth tried to lean forward to pat his back, to see if that would help, that the still ringing phone behind her made her realize. Of course, this was a distraction. The best distraction Neal could make was making a scene of himself in front of an armed gunman, and Elizabeth had been was squandering it. She was quick to course correct.
... --- ... . .-..
S O S E L
She only had a few seconds to tap out the code that Peter made her memorize and randomly quizzed her on before the guard stomped over.
“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He asked as he started to approach. Elizabeth barely managed to pull her hand out from behind her back in time.
He had the gun aimed at Neal. Neal, who had made himself cough so hard that he was now red in the face, who had one hand on the ground barely holding himself up, and who had reaggravated the wound on his head, just for Elizabeth to keep her cover and get out the SOS signal.
And she had thought he could be responsible for this. She would never forgive herself for that.
Elizabeth tugged at Neal’s his jacket, partly pulling him back to her to signal she was done, partly to get him away from the gun as much as she could. He now had his own line of sweat forming, but as he swayed as he sat up back up, she doubted it was from nerves like her was. She looked up at the robber and met his eyes. “You gave him a concussion, of course he doesn’t feel good.”
Neal coughed once more for good measure, then wiped at his mouth. “Sorry, m’sorry, just don’ feel good.”
"Here, let's get some of this heat off you," Elizabeth started to pull at Neal's jacket again, which earned her the gun being aimed at her, but Elizabeth didn’t even blink. Keep calm. Panic is what got you hurt. Neal hadn't panicked when the phone audibly rang, even with a concussion he immediately jumped into a backup plan. One that only hurt him further.
Now it was her turn.
Once Neal’s suit jacket was pulled off, she wrapped her bloodied cardigan around it to protect it from getting dirtied as well, and set it in her lap. “Here Neal, lay down.” Looking up at the robber, putting on her best innocent face, she said, “This is almost all over, isn’t it?”
___________________
Seven minutes later, Elizabeth could hear the sirens as they pulled up. The robbers panicked, and the one that had been holding them down ran to get his friend. In a move so idiotic Elizabeth actually laughed, they both ran straight out the front door.
Straight in Agent Peter Burke’s custody.
It didn’t take long for said man to push in with other agents to start collecting hostages, but he was the first one to start yelling, “Tell the damn paramedics to get in here! Someone’s hurt!”
Peter quickly crouched down next to Elizabeth, and Elizabeth almost could've cried as she felt his hand on her shoulder. “Tell me what happened, hon, are you hurt too?”
Elizabeth shook her head quickly. “No, no I’m fine, only Neal’s hurt. He— they hit him.” Elizabeth had known that would seem obvious, but she was upset about it. “They found his FBI identification and I guess saw him as a threat, so they just…hit him. Hard. ”
When the paramedics came in, Elizabeth told them everything she could, while they gently lifted the limp Neal Caffrey lap and laid him onto the stretcher. “He, he was slurring a little, and his pupils were huge, like twice the normal size, and he—” Her own stomach rolls again as the paramedics grab one of the opened one of the velcro straps to secure Neal’s head in place. He looked so…still. Elizabeth wanted to look away.
“He’s, he’s normally really smart,” she tried to continue, “He knows so much about everything and he couldn’t even tell me morse code.” As they lifted the stretcher, Elizabeth reached next to her, finding grip on Peter’s arm. “He couldn’t— he really wanted to help but he—”
Peter eased himself the rest of the way to the floor as a sob hiccupped in Elizabeth’s throat and pulled her into his arms.
___________________
Three hours later, Elizabeth and Peter are seated in uncomfortable hospital room chairs, next to a sleeping Neal Caffrey.
With enough poking and prodding, Neal had eventually stirred and let the doctors fully examine him. A moderate concussion and 13 stitches, neither which should have much lasting side effects beyond a mild scar.
“You were a hero today El.” Peter said, once they settled into Neal’s room. “You saved everyone, you saved Neal Caffrey. That’s not an easy feat.”
“Oh, honey, that’s sweet of you to say, but…” she shook her head and stood up to lean over Neal, brushing some of the stray hairs out of his face. “Neal really did everything, set everything up.” As she ran her fingers along his hairline, she spotted the tiniest specks of the pink from her lipstick just outside the area they had cleaned up when they put in the stitches. “I…if anything he was the one who saved us. All I did was press a few buttons.”
“Buttons that lead me to find you and to catch two bank robbers.” Peter argued. “Those were some pretty important buttons.”
Elizabeth laughed softly before she went to sit back down. She laid her head on Peter’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her. “Well…finding Neal and catching bad guys is what you do, isn’t it? This time you just happened to find me too.”