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“Boss, have you seen Caffrey?”
Peter dropped the file he was reading and rubbed his palm across his forehead. He had just been reinstated to the White Collar unit after a stint in The Cave— the FBI’s evidence warehouse— and the fact that Diana was asking told him that he might be logging cell phones again by lunch time. “I’ll check the tracker. He’s probably just—“
“No,” Diana closed his office door behind her and that had Peter’s attention. “He’s at his desk. I’m asking if you’ve looked at him today.”
Diana moved to the left so he could see behind her.
From where Peter was, he could see Caffrey chewing on a pencil, reading something. His hat was on his desk and he was picking at the felt on the brim absently with his index finger.
He looked like Caffrey.
“What am I looking for, Diana?”
“I think he’s wearing makeup.”
Peter almost fell out of his chair. Whatever he had been prepared for Diana to say, it wasn’t that. “Okay. Whether or not Neal is wearing makeup is not really my concern—”
Diana rolled her eyes. “Caffrey suddenly starts wearing makeup after Ruiz from OPR borrowed him for a case last night. Think about it.”
Peter did.
He was out of his chair and giving Neal the two-finger summon in seconds.
Peter could see Neal’s panic from here.
“If you’re right, get ready to write up the report. If I do it, Ruiz will be able to get it dismissed as me being hysterical around my pet. If you do it…”
“You got it,” Diana nodded. “Can I say something else?”
Peter broke his stare and looked at her.
“If I’m right, it wasn’t his fault. It was Ruiz.”
“I know that.” Oh, did he know that. Ruiz was going to—
“Your face right now makes it seem like you’re mad at Caffrey.”
“I know.”
Diana pursed her lips.
“I will make sure to show that I know it,” Peter added.
“There you go.” Diana nodded resolutely. “I’ll begin the report now. Just tell me what to write.”
Peter nodded and thought about how glad he was that Diana had come up from DC. She was a good agent. An even better friend. And exactly the person he wanted on his team when things like this happened.
“Caffrey!”
Neal came in, his smile broad but his eyes a bit too wide to pass off as unconcerned. “I’ve been two-finger summoned? To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Peter gestured for him to sit down. “How did things go last night?”
Neal swallowed and shrugged. “With Ruiz?”
“With Ruiz.”
“Fine, fine.” Neal leaned back but Peter had him made. His hands were clenched unnaturally on the chair arms and a bead of sweat was forming on his left temple. “He’s no Peter Burke, but I survived.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Neal shrugged but it wasn’t as coordinated as he meant it to be. Instead of flippant, it came off shaky. “No deviled ham?”
“Neal.” Peter dropped his tone. Stared his partner right in the eyes. “Did something happen last night?”
“No,” but his response was too quick and both of them knew it. “Peter, I mean it.”
“Hmm.” Peter mirrored Neal’s relaxed posture. Leaning back, head tilted to the side, hands on the chair arms. “Want to tell me what that is on your neck, then? Or on your left cheek for that matter.”
“What? A man can’t have his vanity?”
“Neal, when a man wants to have vanity, he contours his cheek bones or whatever the hell it was El was explaining to me the other night. You’re an artist and a damn good one. This looks… cakey. Thick.” In truth, it didn’t. Neal had done a fantastic job hiding the evidence. If Diana hadn’t pointed it out to him, he might’ve missed it.
But now that he was looking, the light caught on the make up differently. Even for picture perfect Neal Caffrey, it looked too perfect.
Neal shook his head. “First, you insult my appearance, then my craft.” Neal smiled but Peter could see the fear behind it. “Peter, I thought we were friends.”
“Please, Neal.” Peter remembered Diana’s words. Tamped down the anger and frustration he wanted to unleash. “Cut the crap. What happened last night?”
Neal blinked, his blue eyes too bright.
To Peter’s horror, for a moment there, he thought Neal was going to start to cry.
Neal swallowed and adjusted his tie. “Agent Ruiz is not a gentle man. He… he thought I was lying about something. He pushed me around a little bit. Nothing too serious. I’m fine, okay?”
“Define pushing you around and spare no detail.”
Neal shook his head and dropped his face into his palms. “Peter, please don’t make me do this. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“If you don’t start talking, I’m going to march up to Organized Crime and punch Ruiz square in the nose. And I’ll do it too. Now, tell me what he did so I can decide if that’s a reasonable course of action or not.”
“Peter...”
“Neal, I mean it. Start talking or I start swinging.”
Diana caught his eyes through the glass and glared. There was no way she could hear them, but she was always way too smart for her own good.
Peter sighed. Rolled his shoulders. “I’m not mad at you. This… I know none of it is your fault. But I need you to tell me what Ruiz did because it was wrong and he deserves to be punished for it.”
“He was just—” Neal bit his lip and sighed. “It’s nothing, okay? I’m fine now.”
The ‘now’ did not escape Peter’s notice. “He’s a bully, Neal. Plain and simple. Always has been. Why do I get the feeling what he did last night goes beyond bullying?”
Neal paled and Peter could finally make out the splotches of make up against his skin. His left cheek was covered and most of his neck. It looked like his left eyebrow had been touched up, too.
Finally, Neal began to fiddle with his beloved rubber band ball and talk.
“I was explaining to him that the painting we’d caught the perp with was a forgery. The frame didn’t match the age of the painting— it was so simple. So straightforward. I wouldn’t have needed to even explain it to you because you would’ve caught it, too. But Ruiz thought I was tricking him. I swear, Peter- I wasn’t being smart or talking back. I was calm, and patient and he just…” Neal’s voice cracked. “He snapped. Wouldn’t stop yelling about how I wasn’t going to pull one over on him. He said some out of line stuff about you— I said that it wasn’t true. Still calm, I swear.” The ball fell out of Neal’s hands, rolling to a stop against the wall. Peter’s heart sunk even further. “Peter, he— out of nowhere. He just punched me in the face. Right in front of the other agents. I didn’t fall, but it was close. No one did anything. They just watched.”
Peter tried to keep his expression neutral. “Why do I get the feeling that’s not the end?”
“Because it isn’t,” Neal admitted. “He tried to grab me again, so I pushed him away. I didn’t push him hard, just enough to keep him off of me.” Neal coughed and retrieved his ball, tugging at a rubber band and making it snap over and over again. “He lost it, Peter. His hands were around my neck and I was on the ground and—”
Now it was Peter's turn to go pale.
“I thought he was going to kill me. And the other officers were just… watching.”
Neal shook his head and a single tear dripped down his nose. He was quick to wipe it away, but it smudged his handiwork on his left cheek. A swatch of purple bled through. “They just watched. Like it didn’t matter what Ruiz did to me.” Neal’s voice cracked but he bit his lip to hide it. “It was like back when I was in prison. A number, not a man. I guess I’d forgot what it felt like to be nobody.” A pause. “I didn’t miss it.”
“You’re not nobody. Especially to me.” Peter stood up and sat on the front of his desk, right in front of Neal. “Drop your head between your knees. It’ll help.”
Neal did, and carefully, Peter dropped his hand protectively between his CI’s shoulders. Gently smoothing his palm over his spine.
“Peter, you don’t have to…”
“Catch your breath, Caffrey. No one’s looking. It’s just us.” Diana was pretending not to watch, but Peter figured that was fine. “I meant what I said. You’re not nobody, Caffrey. You never were.”
“I was in WITSEC.”
“Ellen would’ve begged to differ,” Peter reminded him. “I think she was pretty damn fond of you.”
Bringing up Ellen might’ve made things worse. Peter couldn’t tell. He just made sure Neal knew he was there, he was safe. There were people who cared. Peter cared.
Ruiz would never touch his CI again.
“Ruiz is going to pay for this,” Peter insisted. “He never should have put his hands on you. Let alone tried to… god, I’m so sorry, Neal.”
Neal was still doubled over beneath Peter’s hand, but gradually, he calmed down. Breath by breath, the panic abated.
“Talk to me.”
“Just… give me a minute.” Neal sniffed. “I look awful. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”
Peter waited, still dragging the palm of his hand over Neal’s vertebrae, just the way El liked.
“You’re going to make me file a report,” Neal said, his tone begging for his situational assessment to be wrong.
He was not wrong. “Oh, yeah.” Peter wasn’t taking no for an answer on that one. “Diana will write it up so Ruiz doesn’t get it tossed out over our history.”
“She’ll take pictures, won’t she?”
“The file will be private.”
“Peter, I don’t want—”
“I know.” And he did. Hell, Peter would’ve fought it if it was him. But this was Neal, and Ruiz had put his hands on him, and dammit— Peter was going to make him regret it. “If there was a way to do this without the photos or the report, you know I’d do it. This isn’t to punish you. It’s because you didn’t deserve what he did to you and I need him to understand what happens when he comes after my family.”
“Family, huh?” Neal lifted his head and wiped his flushed cheeks. Peter knew the vulnerability Neal was showing, looking like this in front of him. He saw it for what it was— an act of trust. “Is that what we are?”
“Yeah, I like to think so.” Peter rolled his eyes at Neal’s smug expression. “You’re like the pesky kid I never had. Or the younger brother I didn’t want.”
“You just said you’re old enough to be my dad.”
“It’s a metaphor. Not a literal thing.”
“Hmm.” Neal made a face and Peter slapped his shoulder. “What now?”
“I’ll get Diana. She’ll take you somewhere private and get some pictures, take your statement. Just in case Ruiz tries anything stupid, I want you to come right back here when you’re done. We’re sharing an office today so I can keep an eye on you.”
“Make sure Ruiz doesn’t go for a round two?”
“This isn’t funny, Neal. He punched you. Choked you. If he’d… I would’ve killed him. I hope you know that.”
“Because we’re family?” Neal smirked, trying to hide how uncomfortable Peter's openness was making him.
“More than that. Because we’re friends, too.” Peter waved Diana over. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Neal shook his head. “You’ll see everything soon enough. I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll be here when you’re done.” Neal looked like a man facing the gallows so Peter took a little bit of pity on him. “I’ll even order lunch from that French place you like. My treat.”
Neal gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Peter.”
“Anytime.” Diana came in, holding the new case file. “Work with her, okay? She cares about you, too. We all do. You’re part of the team.”
Part of the family.
Neal adjusted his tie clip. “Can you get me the—”
“I know your lunch order by now, Caffrey. Go on.”
Neal stood and Peter tossed him the rubber band ball.
“Take it with you. Something to busy your hands. I’m not getting you a fidget spinner.”
Neal spun the ball across his palm and fingers like a basketball. Show off.
“I mean it, Neal. You’re back in here the minute you’re done.”
“So you can protect me?”
Yes. “No, so your overpriced lunch doesn’t get cold.”
He watched as Neal sauntered— that was the only word for it— through the bullpen as Diana led him to one of their private conference rooms.
Peter knew he hadn’t been lying. If Ruiz had… Hell, if Peter Burke had a hit list, Ruiz was now on it.
He’d meant what he said. He’d protect that kid with everything he had.
It was about damn time someone did.