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The wound was still fresh and the team noticed the slight evident tension between the agent and his C.I. The pair had been a bit distant towards each other - partly from Peter trying to give the ex-con some room to grieve and partly because Neal seemed to prefer being alone lately.
Ever since that happened, the older man had been a lot more protective of his partner especially when he was going undercover. He couldn’t stop the question - what if Neal was on that plane when it exploded? The mere thought of it scared Peter to death, more than he’d care to admit. It had become impossible for him to imagine a life without Neal Caffrey, even in this short time in which their partnership was formed.
On the other end, Neal couldn’t get over the guilt - he should’ve been on that plane when it exploded. Every day he bottled his emotions along with the rest of his stress and tried to keep himself distracted - there was no time to waste. Frankly, the young man didn’t think he needed a break and it wasn’t in his contract anyway, still, Peter had offered it. The young man declined. He was fine. ‘Really, I am.’ though he wasn’t convincing anyone.
Proof to just how “fine” Neal really was was a case a couple months after the incident. The team had surrounded an apparently abandoned warehouse where their suspect was allegedly making forgeries and keeping missing paintings from famous museums in New York. The duo had gotten into an argument before even arriving at the scene - Peter didn’t want to bring the C.I. into a dangerous situation and Neal wanted to check the legitimacy upon arrival.
“We can just bring the paintings to the office after we’re done securing the area... I don’t understand why you insist on tagging along?” the ex-con would be lying if he didn’t admit that he’d taken some offense to that. “I don’t understand what’s your problem!? We’ve always done it this way - it’s more time efficient. And since when am I ’tagging along’!?”
The argument had only gotten worse after that point and by the time they got to the warehouse, it had taken a completely different turn.
After the mostly silent drive, safe from fighting over the radio which resulted in turning it off eventually, Peter parked up close to the old building which was secluded off next to a small forest. “Stay in the car.” the agent ordered, opening the door. “You can’t be serious-”
“Neal. That’s an order. Stop arguing.”
“I wasn’t even-”
The older man slams the car door closed before he can even finish his sentence. His partner just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms on his chest and glaring through the front windscreen. Peter leads to the entrance, the rest of the team getting out of their cars and joining him. He explains the plan and soon they raid the place after announcing their presence. As expected both the forgeries and stolen paintings were there, but the criminal was no where to be found.
Neal, bored out of his mind from waiting in the car for ten minutes, decided to take a walk around the back and see if they had started to retrieve the paintings yet. What he didn’t know was that in that exact moment, the goon would be making his unceremonious escape right through that door. Luckily, the young man had noticed him before the other caught sight of him and started running towards him. Despite that, the suspect bolted as soon as he noticed movement to his right.
“HE’S OUT THE BACK!” Neal shouted as loud as he could to try and get the team’s attention. Upon hearing that, the criminal took out his gun and turned to shoot. The ex-con jumped and rolled out of the way behind one of the police cars just in time as the man unloaded his gun at him. A stray bullet whizzed past his head just as Peter burst through the back door, the same way the suspect escaped, just in time to witness it.
“NEAL, GET BACK IN THE CAR!” he screamed, taking cover as well. The criminal kept sprinting after seemingly running out of ammo and disappeared into the forest ahead. Suddenly, Diana and Clinton came rushing out, guns drawn, the rest of the team shortly behind them. The fed quickly gets to his partner and starts checking him. “Are you hurt?” the younger slaps his hand away. “I’m fine.” the agent stands up, clearly beyond mad but turns away from him.
“The paintings are there, he’s bound to return for them sooner or later. Clear the area - it’s going to be dark soon. He should be out of bullets, but we can’t be sure. I’ll keep watch, it’s best if there’s only one car so he doesn’t get spooked.” Peter holsters his gun giving orders left and right before turning back to Neal. “Car. And stay there. We’ll talk when I’m done here.” he leaves no room for arguments, letting him know just how angry he was and that he’d receive a lecture later.
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“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, NEAL!?”
The sun was just about to fully set and the two were sitting in Peter’s car. There was no sign that the suspect would return any time soon, but protocol called that they had to stay there either way. Just as promised, the agent was giving the younger man an earful. The typical ‘do not put yourself into danger’ bullshit which honestly, he was tired of. “Oh please, if I wasn’t there you wouldn’t have even known he’d escaped...”
Peter wiped his face with his hands, trying to calm down. “I know it’s hard for you to believe, Neal...” he said through gritted teeth. “...but I value your life more than some criminal escaping!” his partner just kept avoiding his gaze, arms crossed again and looking towards the forest. He had gotten accustomed to rolling his eyes frequently. “At least I was being useful...” the ex-con man muttered.
“WELL YOU’RE NOT MUCH USE TO US DEAD, ARE YOU?” at that, the C.I. shot a glare meeting his eyes. “I’ve had enough of this.” he opens the car door, slamming it shut loudly. “I’m going for a walk. It’s insufferable being in here with you.”
"Neal! Get back here! NOW!"
"NO! You're not my dad!"
"I said get back here, Neal!"
"GO TO HELL! I'm done with this!"
"You can't even go anywhere - your anklet, remember?"
"I DON'T CARE!"
He angrily stomped away into the woods. "Neal!" he could hear the agent call out his name. "Asshole..." he muttered under his breath, going deeper into the wild.
WCWCWCWCWCWCWCWC
"Neal!" Peter called out again after a while. He sighed closing the car door and loading his gun. "Dammit Neal..." he said through gritted teeth as he walked the way his C.I. went.
The fed cautiously continued his path through the dark forest, unable to see much of anything - he could just barely see where he was going. He kept shouting his partner's name, but never received a response. Soon, it was pitch black and Peter began to wonder how in hell could Neal see a bloody thing in this dark. He stopped momentarily to switch on his phone's flashlight. Holding his gun in one hand and the phone in his other, he continued at a jogging-pace to find the boy more quickly.
Meanwhile, the ex-con man was wandering through the woods aimlessly. He just wanted to get away from Peter right now and for him to leave him alone. Pushing aside the trees' branches, he walked deeper and deeper as it began to get darker and darker until Neal couldn't even see his own hand in front of him anymore. He didn't bother to turn on his phone's flashlight though.
Instead, he just kept on going, not caring if he accidentally fell or got hurt because he couldn't spend anymore of his time with his handler. He didn't even care that he was way out of his radius and that in that case he would have to be with Peter, but honestly, he wouldn't even give a damn if the man would put him back in prison for this.
Suddenly, there was a pretty loud noise behind him. Some kind of a crackle of footsteps on leaves. He slowly pulled out his phone from his pocket and turned on the flashlight looking around him, but seeing no one. "Just leave me alone Peter..." he was mad, but really wished that it was him right now. Besides, if it wasn't then that meant- "Guess again, prick." Neal tensed at the words, his eyes widening, as a cold hard hand pressed on his shoulder, the three words slurring in his ear.
"Oof-" the man punched his cheek making him fall to the floor with a thud and a loud crinkle of leaves beneath him. His phone flew out of his hand and onto the ground next to them providing some light around them. The young man spat out some blood and chuckled, confusing the criminal for a moment. "You know... I actually forgot about you." he shakily stood up and smiled at him earning himself another punch to the face, this time his left cheek.
The ex-criminal fell to the ground once more, but he couldn't get up this time. 'This is probably why I should've listened to Peter... That's why he wanted me to get back in the car.' Realization hit him although he didn't want to admit that the agent was right. Shakily, he tried to stand up again, but failed, only making his head spin. The man towered over him, the light making him look even more menacing. Neal desperately tried to hide his fear.
With as much force as he could muster, he kicked the man's ankle making him yell in pain. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" He grabbed the ex-con by his shirt collar and raised him slightly in the air. Pulling out his gun from his back pocket, he pressed the end of it to the boy's forehead. The cold metal made Neal tense up. 'I shouldn't have done that...' he thought. "You're going to regret that." The man said through gritted teeth from the pain, projecting Neal’s own thought. The blue-eyed male swallowed hard and closed his eyes shut-tight, regretting his outburst on Peter.
"PUT THE GUN DOWN!" a strong voice demanded from the side. Light shinned brightly in their faces, blinding them. Both turned their heads to face the figure, gun still on his forehead. "Peter? " he whispered, barely audible. The light disappeared and the agent revealed himself pocketing his phone. "I said put it down." he repeated through gritted teeth a menacing look on his face. The man smirked removing the gun from Neal's forehead, cocking it, and bringing it back to its' previous position - on the ex-con man's temple.
"He's dead before you shoot me so you better-" but he was cut of by a hard blow to his private area brought to him by Neal who immediately jumped out of the way once the criminal's grip loosened and Peter shot him before the man could even think of hurting his partner. He fell to the floor with a thud as a small puddle of blood started to pool out of his chest. The C.I. looked at his body in horror. The young man's heart was still pounding in his chest. "Neal!" his handler rushed to his side immediately. "Neal!" he grabbed his shoulders, looking into his eyes.
The ex-con just stared at the lifeless body a few feet away from him, his eyes still wide. "Look at me, Neal." the older man shook him gently to gain his attention. "Don't look at that." he moved to obscure the view and the man's head slowly turned to face him. Peter could just now see how bad his friend looked - he had a cut lip which was still slightly bleeding, his cheeks were pink from the punches he had received and his hair was messy with a few leaves in it. Tears started to form in his blue eyes as he was starting to shake lightly.
The agent enveloped him in a hug, holding his head to face away from the dead body. "I-I'm sorry I d-didn't listen to y-you, Peter, I-" the said man hushed him, just holding him in his arms. "It's okay. We're okay. Everything's okay." he repeated the words, more for himself then for him. Neal's rapidly beating heart started to slow back down. He wouldn't let any tears fall though so he just closed his eyes and held onto his partner. A few moments later, he calmed down enough to the point where the two could get out of there.
"Can you walk?" Peter asked once he was up on his feet. He offered his hand to help him which Neal took and thanked for with a nod. "Yeah. I-I think I'm fine now." he shook his head a bit. His handler guided him away from the scene with his hand. He scooped up Neal's phone and gave the dead man one last meaningless glance. They managed to somehow get out of the forest with ease. The FBI agent briefly called in what had happened and then the duo sat in the car together.
Both sighed in somewhat relief. Peter glanced at Neal before turning on the engine. The boy was asleep in the seat. A small smile made its way to the fed's lips. "Sleep tight, buddy." he gently pat his knee and turned the car engine on, driving back home so that both of them could get some rest. Their argument was long forgotten, just like the dead body they had left behind. The most important thing was that both Neal and Peter were safe.
...oh, and catching the criminal was a bonus!