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Neal Caffrey’s day had been going great so far.
Dick had woken up well rested, even after ditching Neal’s ankle monitor last night to follow his duties as a vigilante. He had stopped several would be muggings and even a rape attempt and hadn’t even gotten more than a few bruises. And the following two and a half hours of sleep were the most replenishing he’d had in a while.
Or maybe he was just sleep deprived enough to not notice anymore, but who cared?
Anyway, he felt great, alive, ready to take on the world and it’s mortgage fraud. Well no, mortgage fraud was still a pain and honestly, why were there so many cases of it? Was the whole of New York just committing mortgage fraud for the fun of it?
Anyhow, Dick was not going to let mortgage fraud of all things bring down his good mood, so he rolled out of bed and made his way to his closet with a little spring in his step.
He opened his closet to the array of vintage suits he’d gotten from June. Dick didn’t actually care for them that much, they were to stiff for his usual flippy attitude, but Neal liked them and seeing that Dick was Neal, he supposed they weren’t too bad.
Neal Caffrey, the non-violent conman turned CI for the FBI, was one of the more fun aliases Dick had created over the years. And with the JLA needing someone to discreetly weed out League of assassins operatives out of the FBI, Neal had been the perfect candidate for this mission.
So Dick didn’t let himself be bothered by the stiffness of his suits or the mortgage fraud and just enjoyed the role he was playing.
Dick pulled out a suit and happily walked to his bathroom to get ready. Soon a fully dressed and styled Neal Caffrey stepped out and made his way to the kitchen for some breakfast and coffee.
He started the coffee machine and poured some cereal and milk into a bowl. He finished making his coffee by putting a little bit of milk and two spoons of sugar in it. He then started eating and when he finally took a sip of his coffee it was heavenly. It tasted just how he liked it and the temperature was perfect.
In the middle of breakfast his not-Neals-phone buzzed with two notification not even a minute apart.
06:47 Little Wing- Gotham case brought me to New York. See you when I see you. Maybe tonight.
06:47 Little Wing- Or when I have to blow of some steam, these motherfucking...
And Dick was excited. He hadn’t seen Jason in months, ever since he’d gone undercover as Neal and he had started missing his brother a lot. So yeah, sue him or whatever, but he was really looking forward to seeing his little wing. There was nothing that could ruin his day now, he thought.
He had just finished up with breakfast and was putting away the dishes, when there was a knock on the door.
“Come on in, the door is open.” he called out, a famous Neal Caffrey smile already on his lips, when a second later a tired looking Peter stepped through the doorway.
“Morning,” Neal commented. “are you sleepwalking or did you just forget your coffee this morning?”
“Neither.” Peter sighed. “Didn’t sleep well, happens. Let’s go.”
“Ooookkayy” Neal smiled and followed the still half asleep agent to his car.
The air outside was fresh and the sun was painting the world in beautiful morning light. It really was going to be a wonderful day.
The drive was quiet with Peter still half asleep and Dick not seeing the point in saying something, if his friend wasn’t going to comprehend whatever he said anyway.
They arrived at the office not even twenty minutes later, Neal greeting Diana and Jones with a smile, Peter only nodding in acknowledgment.
Not long after they arrived Hughes was calling them into his office to discuss a smuggling case they had been notified of this morning, so Dick wasn’t even going to have to deal with the mortgage fraud cases and wow, this day was getting better and better.
The smuggling case was nothing to special, some guys had stolen Rembrandt’s “Girl at a window”, smuggled it from the UK to New York and were now going to auction it off to the highest bidder.
How the FBI had heard of this Dick didn’t know, nor did he care, but he was intrigued. He’d seen the painting before and would gladly see it returned safely. And who better to send recover the painting, than their resident art lover? Exactly, no one.
So Neal spend his morning, noon and early afternoon prepping to attend the auction with the help of Diana, Jones and Peter. Peter still looked very tired, but still managed to remind him like a hundred times, that “Neal, you are not going to keep this painting, it’s going back to the UK as soon as possible” and “If anything goes wrong, we’re pulling you out.”.
Truly it was endearing to see how much Peter cared for Neal, while simultaneously distrusting him.
But all in all Neal Caffrey’s day had arguably been going great so far.
So far.
Because at 15:41 a note arrived for Neal Caffrey, messily written in what one could assume to be blood, but Dick knew to be dark red ink.
N,
I’m really mad, watch out.
-Red Hood
And is it really that unethical to want to strangle your brother sometimes?
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Peter Burke’s day had not been going great so far.
The first time he had been woken up was when El had gotten up at 4 in the morning, because apparently the event she was planing right now needed her to be there at six and she had to drive about an hour to get there.
She had murmured a quiet “Have a good day”, to which Peter wasn’t sure if he had actually answered anything, because Peter had already fallen back asleep by the time she closed the bedroom door.
The second time Peter had been up was due to the alarm clock blaring right into his ear. Peter shot up trying to jump out of bed, hit the alarm clock, managed to tangle himself in the sheets and crashed to the floor with an undignified sound he was glad no one was around to hear.
And to make matters worse, he realized with a glance at the time, he was running late. Especially if he wanted to be at Neal’s before seven.
With a groan Peter fought himself out of the sheets, got to his feet and mechanically began getting ready for the day.
He spent what felt like ten minutes in the bathroom, but with an other glance at the time turned out to be the better part of half an hour. And, what? How can that much time pass without him even noticing?
But it didn’t matter now and he didn’t have the time to ponder it. He gulped down some breakfast and burned himself on his coffee, because he didn’t have the time to wait until it was cooled down properly.
Leaving the almost full mug of coffee in the sink to put away later, he got into his car and started driving. In what felt like the blink of an eye he was standing in front of Neal’s door a chipper “Come on in, the door is open.” sounding from inside.
Peter did as he was told and found Neal finishing up his breakfast in the kitchen. And wow, Neal looked like he was in a good mood. Peter could so not relate at all. He was tired and already couldn’t wait to fall into bed that evening.
“Morning, are you sleepwalking or did you just forget your coffee this morning?” Neal smiled, which, ok that was fair, he had seen himself in the mirror before leaving, but he really didn’t have the patience to indulge in small talk right now.
“Neither. Didn’t sleep well, happens. Let’s go.” he said with a sigh, already turning back to the entrance. Neal followed behind him and they both sat down in the car.
Neal must have realized, that he was not in the mood to talk, because he thankfully kept quiet the entire car ride even though he looked like he wanted to buzz out of his seat, with how happy he looked. Peter was glad though; he liked seeing Neal happy.
Arriving in the office Neal greeted every one with one of his charismatic smiles and a “good morning” but Peter just went straight to his desk.
Where he apparently wasn’t meant to be long because Hughes called him, Diana, Jones and Neal into his office.
A week ago the “Girl at a window” painted by Rembrandt in 1645 was stolen from a museum in London and had found it’s way to New York. The FBI had gotten an anonymous tip that it would be auctioned off in a warehouse by the docks this evening.
Judging by the glint in Neal’s eyes he knew the painting. And unsurprisingly he was more than happy to be the one to go in undercover to get the painting back. Who would have thought?
Thous Peter spent the rest of the morning continuously reminding Neal that while he might be the one getting the painting back, he would not get to keep it. And truth be told, the smirk Neal had on his face when telling Peter, that he “wouldn’t dream of it, Peter I thought you knew me better than that”, was not at all reassuring.
He also tried to make sure that Neal knew that if anything happened they would be there for him. Neal just rolled his eyes at that, which was as infuriating as it was concerning Peter. Did Neal not trust them to be there? Or did he just think he wouldn’t need them? Either way, Peter would make sure Neal got out of this okay, he did feel responsible for his CI after all.
All in all Peter Burke’s day had not been going great so far. It hadn’t been going bad so far either. So far.
Because around fifteen-forty Neal got a note. And Peter saw his natural smile slip into a fake version of it’s self. So obviously Peter took a look at it over Neal’s shoulder.
Bloody red letters marred the pristine white page.
N,
I’m really mad, watch out.
-Red Hood
Peter felt like someone had pulled out the floor from under him.
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Dick didn’t know what Jason was trying to achieve with the note, but whatever it was, he hoped the fucker was happy with the reaction he got.
Dick could feel Peter stiffen, where he was looking over his shoulder.
“Oh god Neal, what did you do?” Peter breathed “What did you… Neal did you con the Red Hood?”
Dick looked at Peter, who had gone bone white and even Diana and Jones looked slightly ashen after hearing Peter’s words.
“NO, of course not! I don’t even know the guy!” Dick immediately defended, cringing internally at how terrified his friends looked.
Why did his brother feel the need to write him such a dramatic note? And why did he have to do it now, that Dick was so close to finishing his mission? There were two assassins left in the FBI and Dick estimated that it would take him no more than two weeks the get them out. And now his brother was risking his cover for what? Annoying him? Blowing of steam?
Actually yeah, that sounded exactly like something Jason would do.
But damn it he was so close to getting his mission done. And now, well now everything would be twice as complicated, if he managed to keep his cover at all.
Thank you, Jason.
“Well, it seems like he knows you and is for some reason mad at you. Neal, the Red Hood is dangerous. He’s on top of the FBI’s most wanted list and I don’t know, what you did or didn’t do to anger him, but Neal I promise we are going to keep you safe.” aaand that was Peter’s victim voice.
Great.
This was not what he needed today.
“I swear to you Peter, I don’t know, why he’s mad.” Dick stated and it was true. He had an idea, likely something to do with the case Jay had been investigating, but he didn’t know for certain. The note also didn’t say Hood was mad at Neal, just that he was mad.
And what do little brothers do, when they’re mad at the world?
Apparently they send threatening notes to their older brothers that endanger the cover that said older brothers had worked on for months.
How could Dick salvage this?
“This may not even be from Hood, right? Maybe someone is playing a prank on us?” Dick tried, though he knew it was probably not going to work. No one took Hood’s name if they wanted to live, especially not for some prank.
“I don’t know Neal.” Peter looks so worried “I really don’t think anyone would put their life on the line for a prank like this. If Hood knew someone used his name for something like this their dead and very likely anyone that knew about it as well. That would still mean you. But even if this is a prank, I’m not willing to risk it. We’ll find someone else for the op this evening, maybe Diana or Jones, or someone and I’ll stay at yours for the night and…”
“Now wait a minute” Dick cut Peter off, because no, he was not going to let Jason ruin this for him! “what do you mean find someone else? I’m still doing this. Besides I don’t think Hood would actually ever do anything with that many people around, do you? I just mean he could have shown up here and done whatever, but he only send a note, right?”
That might not save his cover entirely, but maybe it would count for something?
Peter looked torn, though he did consider it.
“Fine, but I’m still staying at yours, we will position people outside, just in case and that note is send to the lab. God I hope that’s not real blood.”
“Fine.”
The note was sent to the lab and just as Dick had thought, it was written with ink.
So everything was fine.
Everything was not fine, because plans apparently change as fast as Hood can send another note. In this cause that was about an hour.
Heyy N,
I put a few purple bombs in your apartment. Have fun.:)
-Red Hood
Peter freaked out completely at seeing this note. He immediately sent a bomb squat to June’s house, tried to reassure Dick he would keep him safe and sent this note to the lab as well.
Dick was also freaking out, but for an entirely different reason. Because he knew what Jason meant by purple bombs.
Because Jason meant purple bombs made by Stephanie Brown.
Purple bombs made by Stephanie Brown aka Spoiler.
Purple bombs made by Stephanie Brown aka Spoiler aka Miss Everything-deserves-glitter-and-if-you-never-get-it-off-than-it-is-not-sticking-long-enough!!!
Oh god, Dick was going to be covered in purple glitter for ever!
Dick was going to kill Jason and make what the Joker did to him seem like a spa day!
Well, he guessed he wouldn’t really do that, but if those glitter bombs exploded he might just have to go get some of Steph’s glitter and put it in Jason favorite guns and in his helmet and his armor and on his books and oh, Dick could think of soooo many places he could put that glitter.
He’d definitely get a different color though. Maybe Jason liked Pink. He’d have to find out then.
But for now he had to find a way to calm down Peter and make sure that the op this evening was still happening.
Why could he have not stayed an only child?
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“Oh god Neal, what did you do?” Peter breathed “What did you… Neal did you con the Red Hood?”
Peter’s thoughts were going a hundred miles per minute, but somehow had also come to a complete standstill.
The Red Hood.
Oh god, Neal was going to die and Peter would not be able to do anything.
“NO, of course not! I don’t even know the guy!” Neal immediately defended, which decidedly could not be true, since the Red Hood had addressed him with his initial and Neal was going to die because he had no self control Peter would be lucky to not also be killed just for knowing Neal.
“Well, it seems like he knows you and is for some reason mad at you. Neal, the Red Hood is dangerous.” He had put severed heads in a duffelbag and delivered it to the doorstep of the FBI for crying out loud. But Peter was not about to tell Neal that. He didn’t want to risk freaking him out more than necessary. So in as gentle a tone he could manage he continued “He’s on top of the FBI’s most wanted list and I don’t know, what you did or didn’t do to anger him, but Neal I promise we are going to keep you safe.”
He was. He was going do everything to ensure Neal would be safe.
“I swear to you Peter, I don’t know, why he’s mad.”
Neal sounded sincere, but that wouldn’t change the fact that The Red Hood was coming after him and it definitely wouldn’t stop The Red Hood from killing Neal. Maybe he would even torture Neal first to make sure he knew why he was mad and what he had done.
And Peter did not want to think about everything The Red Hood might do to Neal if he got his hands on him.
No Peter had to focus. He had to problem solve and he had to do it fast.
So he shoved the part of his brain that had started chanting “The Red Hood is going to kill Neal” at him aside and tried desperately to come up with a solution.
Before he could speak up again, Neal beat him to it. “This may not even be from Hood, right? Maybe someone is playing a prank on us?”
Peter had no idea who would ever be stupid enough to use The Red Hood’s name in that way and judging by Neal’s expression he he didn’t either.
But still.
“I don’t know Neal. I really don’t think anyone would put their life on the line for a prank like this. If Hood knew someone used his name for something like this they’re dead and very likely anyone that knew about it as well. That would still mean you. But even if this is a prank, I’m not willing to risk it. We’ll find someone else for the op this evening, maybe Diana or Jones, or someone and I’ll stay at yours for the night and…” and they would get the marshals to guard the house and if there was any indication, that The Red Hood knew where Neal lived they would find somewhere else to stay. Maybe at Peter’s house or at a hotel, maybe they could leave the country? Surely The Red Hood wasn’t angry enough to bother following them out of the country and Peter heard that Mallorca was supposed to be beautiful and maybe they could lay low there until The Red Hood had forgotten and Peter wanted to say all this, but Neal interrupted him in the middle of his admittedly rambley thought process.
“Now wait a minute what do you mean find someone else? I’m still doing this. Besides I don’t think Hood would actually ever do anything with that many people around, do you? I just mean he could have shown up here and done whatever, but he only send a note, right?”
Peter’s first instinct was to tell Neal he didn’t care and there was no way in hell he’d risk this and ask him how he was still so calm when a murderous crime lord had it out for him.
But Neal had a point.
Yes, The Red Hooh had brought a duffelbag with severed heads to the FBI, but the actual severing had not been seen or reported by anyone.
And no one had ever reported seeing him actually murder or torture someone, but then again he most likely just killed any witnesses.
He had only sent a note though, so maybe he didn’t actually want to kill people unnecessarily.
It took a minute for Peter to weight the pro’s and con’s, the possibility’s and probability’s, but if Neal was willing and determent to do this, then
“Fine, but I’m still staying at yours, we will position people outside, just in case and that note is send to the lab. God I hope that’s not real blood.”
“Fine.”
Peter immediately sent the note to their lab.
And thanked god, when it came back as just red ink. He had really thought The Red Hood would have used real blood.
Everything seemed calmer for the next hour and Peter thought, that maybe Neal was right and this was just a prank.
Then the second note arrived.
Heyy N,
I put a few purple bombs in your apartment. Have fun.:)
-Red Hood
Peter felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. The Red Hood had broken into June’s house and put BOMBS in there.
Even Neal’s previously calm facade slipped at this note.
And Peter didn’t hesitate. He called the bomb squad, sent agent to make sure no one would be home if they went off and that June was okay, he also sent this note to the lab and tried to reassure Neal in the best way that he knew.
Peter would try everything he could to keep Neal save.
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Dick had no idea how he had manged to convince Peter to let him do this op after Jason’s second note, but somehow he had done it.
So now Nick Holden was sitting on a chair in a surprisingly well decorated warehouse sans his ankle monitor, but up a comm and a watch, that recorded every sound in the room.
Peter was checking in with him every few minutes and Dick found it increasingly irritating, to hear Peter’s voice.
The auction had been going for a good half an hour before the “Girl at a window” was brought out.
The auctioneer started the bidding at a small $50,000, which was a lot of money, but nowhere near the actual worth of the painting, which is estimated to be around $1.41 million.
Did he actually think the bidding would drive it up that much and hadn’t the starting bid for some of the previous pieces been higher?
Dick felt something in his stomach twist. There was something very wrong here, if only he could pin point what.
“Neal, something doesn’t seem right, if we need to pull you out please tell us immediately!”
Ok, so Peter had noticed too.
Nonetheless, if they were to stupid to realize the worth of the painting in front of them, then Dick would be the last to care.
A solid ten minutes of bidding and Dick had gotten the painting for $200,000. Where these people really this stupid?
Dick was led to a backroom by one of the ringman, where two others where already waiting.
One of them presented the painting and as Dick stepped closer he could finally see the reason, why the bids had been so low.
“Is it to your liking Mister Caffrey?” one of the men asked.
“This is a fake.” Dick said dumbly and ohh, he had to get out of here, this was not good.
“What, Neal are you sure? If you are just come back out, you’re practically alone, The Red Hood could get to you at any minute and if it’s really a fake than you don’t have to be in there any longer…”
“Wait did that man just call you Caffrey?” Dick heard Diana cut off Peter. “Aren’t you there as Nick Holden?”
And Diana was right. Dick had come in as Nick Holden, no one should know he was Neal Caffrey.
He turned at this realization, trying to get past the three men behind him, but before he could take a step one of the men was already grabbing him and he felt the telltale prick of a needle in the back of his neck, before the world turned dark around him.
The last thing Dick heard was Peter demanding to know what was going on over comms.
When Dick opened his eyes again the world around him was blurry and way too bright and loud.
His chest and legs felt cold and he was sitting on what must be the floor. Around him there were way to many voices but he couldn’t make out any familiar ones.
His arms were bound behind his back and anchored to the floor? What the fuck?
Meanwhile his mouth was held open in an uncomfortable position, by a ball gag? Maybe, Dick wasn’t really sure what kind of gag it was.
Suddenly someone right next to Dick spoke up.
“Hello, hello Ladies and gentlemen and welcome to this evening’s auction! Please settle down into your seats, we are about to start.”
And oh. Oh no! Dick suddenly had the distinct feeling, that he was not in fact lying on the floor, but on some kind of stage. Blinking against the blurriness of his eyes and the brightness of the lights until some of his sight had returned, Dick was only proven right with his assessment.
“Another auction? Diana please tell me we can finally trace that damn signal.” “I’m working on it.”
Dick could have cried, because…
Because he could hear his friends voices. Because they could somehow still hear what was going on. Because they weren’t able to trace his signal and would have to hear him be auctioned off.
Maybe it would have been better for them to not be able to hear him anymore.
“Well, well, thank you all for coming to this evenings event. I can promise you tonight product is worth it.
Please meet Neal Caffrey, ex-conman now turned snitch for the FBI. And you know, snitches get stitches and as tonight’s winner of the auction you could be the one to give those to him. Not only that, look at his body! That chest and those thighs, just imagine, what you could do before you give him his rightful punishment, or while you are doing it or after, hahaha, oh the possibility's. Yes, Caffrey here is a real catch and the bidding starts at the low price of $200,000 dollars. Who here offers $250,000?”
“Oh god.”
Dick felt nauseous, this couldn’t be happening. This was never supposed to happen.
Neal Caffrey was non-violent and with the white collar team he wasn’t supposed to end up in situations like this!
The ropes around his wrist were to tight and Dick couldn’t get a good enough grip to even hope to slip out or untie them.
If he was lucky and not immediately killed maybe the Justice League would be able to track him. That didn’t mean they would make it in time before something happened.
The bids were rising quickly, they were now at $550,000.
Dick’s stomach churned. His only hope of getting free now was that whoever bought him would seriously underestimate the non-violence of Neal Caffrey, so that Nightwing might have a fighting chance.
But he could already feel a headache forming and his limps felt weirdly foreign to him. Most likely a side effect of what he had been drugged with.
“Please don’t let this be happening.”
Well it was and all Dick could do was wait and hope as the bids rose now slowing around $700,000 dollars.
Until,
“One million dollars” a mechanized voice called from the back.
“One million dollars? Is anyone offering more? No? One million dollars going once, going twice, sold to the lovely Mister Red Hood in the back. If you would please come into the side room with us to finalize your purchase, that would be greatly appreciated.”
“No” Peter sounded eerily defeated.
But Dick could have sagged with relief, had his muscles not already felt like pudding.
Because that was Hood who had just made the final offer. That was Jason, his little wing, his brother who had just come to his rescue.
Tears of relief pricked at his eyes.
He was yanked up from behind and roughly pushed into the side room, where he was forced to his knees, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
There, in his leather armor and signature red helmet stood Jason, talking to the auctioneer.
“Thank you for your purchase Mister Red Hood, if you would like, we are offering you the watch that the feds are always using to listen in on Caffrey’s conversations. We’re currently disabling the tracker, but I’m sure you’ll be able to do so on your own. You could have it completely free of charge, just for them to know, what happens to their little snitches.”
“I’ll take it.” Hood said while sliding it on.
He then leaned down to Dick and brushed a hand along his face, pulled a knife and promptly cut the ball gag away. He worked his way trough the ropes at Dick’s hands then and when he was done he grabbed him under the shoulders and hoisted him up.
Hood started to leave only to turn in the door way one last time and with a practiced move pull out a gun and shoot all thee of the men clean between the eyes.
Dick groaned, he didn’t make the effort to protest through. Jason rarely killed now a days, but when he did he usually tried to at least do it with out one of the other bats watching.
Jason only chuckled at Dick’s reaction and started walking again.
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Why had Neal talked him into this? This was such a bad idea!!!
If The Red Hood did decide to do anything they would be to late.
He could basically see Neal groan, as Peter again asked for his status.
The auction had been dragging and Peter’s worry only increased with every passing second.
There were so many other objects that were being sold. When the painting was finally brought out Peter only knew, because the auctioneer announced it to be the right one. The starting bid though didn’t fit at all.
Only $50,000? That was not anywhere near the actual worth of the painting.
“Neal, something doesn’t seem right, if we need to pull you out please tell us immediately!” Peter hoped Neal would just say he needed an extraction and maybe his plan of leaving the country could be revisited.
But Neal did no such thing, instead bidding happily on the piece and eventually winning it for mere $200,000 dollars.
Something wasn’t right. But as long as Neal didn’t ask for help they wouldn’t move in.
So Peter listened as Neal was lead to one of the backrooms and apparently started inspecting the painting.
“Is it to your liking Mister Caffrey?” one of the men, the auctioneer maybe?, asked.
“This is a fake.” Neal’s voice came trough the comms and well, at least the price now made more sense.
“What, Neal are you sure? If you are just come back out, you’re practically alone, The Red Hood could get to you at any minute and if it’s really a fake than you don’t have to be in there any longer…” Peter immediately started getting up to help extract Neal, when Diana interrupted him.
“Wait did that man just call you Caffrey? Aren’t you there as Nick Holden?”
No, no, no, no, no, Diana was right, on the other end of the line the sound of scuffling could be heard.
Peter was out of the van a second later, followed by Diana and Jones and they were running towards the warehouse as fast as they could.
It didn’t even take them two minutes to arrive in the backroom, but they were to late. Neal was no where to be seen.
Icy fear shot through Peter as they made their way back to the van to pull the tracking on the watch.
But when they finally got that done, the tracker showed no signal.
It was a long time, until they heard anything other then the rustle of fabric or the scuffling of feet over the microphone in the watch.
And when they finally did it was only background chatter, overlapping to much to actually understand.
They had had no luck in tracking Neal’s watch either.
Peter could feel his heart pound in his chest and why was it so hard to breathe in?
“Hello, hello Ladies and gentlemen and welcome to this evening’s auction! Please settle down into your seats, we are about to start.” a voice suddenly rang clearly from the mic in Neal’s watch.
Peter’s stomach sank. This did not sound good, this did not sound good at all. Because, if they had kidnapped Neal and brought him to an auction, than the odds that he was one of the buyers seemed to fall to zero.
“Another auction? Diana please tell me we can finally trace that damn signal.”
They had to get Neal out of there! How were they even able to block the tracking signal. The watch was supposed to be top of the line FBI tech.
“I’m working on it.”
Diana looked the way Peter felt. Just as panicked and close to tears. Jones for that matter didn’t look any better either.
Peter had spent so much time with Neal and he had taken it all for granted. He had no words to describe the panic he had felt when the notes from The Red Hood had come and how the panic had increased indefinitely when they had lost contact.
He wanted to tell Neal, that they would get him out of there.
That they would get there in time and somehow save Neal before any further harm could come to him.
He wanted to tell him that everything would be ok.
Hell, Peter wanted to tell himself, that everything would be ok.
But he couldn’t.
There was no way Neal could hear him and even than it didn’t make the words true. If only he could make the words true.
“Well, well, thank you all for coming to this evenings event. I can promise you tonight product is worth it.
Please meet Neal Caffrey, ex-conman now turned snitch for the FBI. And you know, snitches get stitches and as tonight’s winner of the auction you could be the one to give those to him. Not only that, look at his body! That chest and those thighs, just imagine, what you could do before you give him his rightful punishment, or while you are doing it or after, hahaha, oh the possibility's. Yes, Caffrey here is a real catch and the bidding starts at the low price of $200,000 dollars. Who here offers $250,000?”
“Oh god.” That just confirmed Peters worst fears. Neal was going to be sold and all Peter could do was sit in a white van and listen. Why hadn’t he insisted that Neal stay home?
Neal was in the hands of people would enjoy hurting him in the worst possible ways and Peter was no better than a sitting duck!
What if something had already happened?
Peter pushed that thought as far away as he could. It wouldn’t help him save Neal.
The bids were rising steadily at first and Peter could feel bile rise up in the back of his throat and with every bid it only got worse.
“One million dollars” a muffled and mechanized voice called over the microphone.
Was that? No, it couldn’t be right?
“One million dollars? Is anyone offering more? No? One million dollars going once, going twice, sold to the lovely Mister Red Hood in the back. If you would please come into the side room with us to finalize your purchase, that would be greatly appreciated.”
“No”
Oh god. Oh god. OH GOD! No.
The Red Hood had bought Neal Caffrey. The Red Hood, who had already been angry at Neal for some reason had just spent a million dollars on getting him.
And Peter had promised Neal he’d keep him safe. He had promised and what had he done to follow up on that promise?
He had sent Neal on an a mission, where he had gotten him kidnapped and sold to the person, that wanted to do him harm.
The world around Peter became blurry and all he could hear was his own heartbeat and he couldn’t remember how to breathe. How could someone forget how to breathe? Peter didn’t know, which didn’t change the fact, that wasn’t able to do it. You had open your mouth right? Peter did that, but still no air found it’s way into his lungs. His eyes were stinging and his face was wet…was it? Peter didn’t know, not when he couldn’t see anything but blurriness and he was suffocating and the only sound in his ears was the pounding of his heart and the staticy sound of whatever was happening around Neal’s watch.
“Thank you for your purchase Mister Red Hood, if you would like, we are offering you the watch that the feds are always using to listen in on Caffrey’s conversations. We’re currently disabling the tracker, but I’m sure you’ll be able to do so on your own. You could have it completely free of charge, just for them to know, what happens to their little snitches.”
“I’ll take it.”
And it was so selfish of him to wish The Red Hood hadn’t taken it to make them listen to Neal’s torture. But they still weren’t able to track the watch and so all they could do was listen.
Some rustling and what sounded like The Red Hood lifting something and then three loud bangs.
And then Diana pulled of Peter’s headset and she was saying something, Peter could see her lips move, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying over the way his heartbeat still thundered in his ears.
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Dick woke up again on an unfamiliar couch with a blanked draped leisurely over his body, which was in sweatpants and a hoodie. He tried to remember how he’d gotten here, but all his thoughts were so fuzzy.
So he kept his body still and breathing even until he would be able to determent were he was.
“Morning Dickie; though it’s more like afternoon at this point.” A familiar voice called out to Dick and Dick turned around to come face to face with his little brother.
“Jaybird?”
The memories of last night coming into sudden clarity. The auction and the second auction and the indescribable relief at his brother being there all of a sudden, but wait…
“Not that I’m not grateful, that you saved me, but how did you know I was going to be there?”
He questioned, because Jason had been in New York for a case right?
“Didn’t,” Jason snorted “those fuckers were the last three of the trafficking ring I followed here. You just happened to be there.”
“Mhm” Dick hummed. He slowly rose to a sitting position, while pushing the blanket off himself.
“You know they targeted Neal Caffrey specifically, right? They ain’t gonna be the last who’ll do that.” Jason pointed out as he made his way to the small kitchen isle opposite the couch.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done anyway. Two more weeks and Neal Caffrey is ready to be burned. I just need to figure out what to tell Peter after last night.”
Dick could imagine how Peter was feeling right now. He must be so worried right now. Dick should probability explain the truth when he saw him next. He had a feeling Peter would understand.
“Soo, how’d ya like the glitter?” Jason’s voice carried over from where he was currently filling two mugs with milk.
Dick took one of the neatly arranged pillows and, careful to not hit the mugs Jason had been filling, threw it at his brother’s face.
The pillow hit it’s target and fell harmlessly to the ground.
Never let it be said that a bat can’t throw a pillow with the same precision as a batarang.
Jason only mumbled a “Rude!”, bent down, picked the pillow back up and threw it back into Dick’s general direction.
“And here I was making you hot cocoa.”
“Aww, I’m sorry, you’re right. I shouldn’t distract the big bad crime lord from making hot chocolate for the guy he just bought. How rude of me.
Jason rolled his eyes, but brought over the two now steaming mugs of cocoa.
“I want the money back, you know.”
“Ok, call B, he’ll probably even pay you interest.”
“No, you call B.” Jason pushed one of the mugs towards Dick.
But it was still to hot to drink from, so both mugs ended up on the little couch table.
“What are you two fighting about this time?”
“Some of those traffickers got a little to handsy with the kids before I got to them, so I decided they all deserved a bullet between their eyes” Jason stated and pushed a phone in Dick direction.
Dick could see were Bruce’s problem was, but he wouldn’t condemn Jason for his action either.
No one deserved to go through that.
“Yeah, I’ll call B.” Dick picked up the phone, than paused for a beat. “But first Steph, I’m sure she’ll love to hear that you’re going to continue the red Hood thing with a newly sparkling helmet.”
“Oh no, you don’t!”
Dick let out a startled cry as Jason launched himself at him, trying to wrangle the phone out of Dick grasp.
A loud bang at the front door made both of them stop short.
And only a second later Agent Peter Burke stood in front of them gun pointed at Jason.
“Let go of him!”
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They had found Neal. It had taken the rest of the night and the better part of the next day, but they had found him.
The Red Hood had been seen entering an apartment with Neal in the early hours of the morning and had apparently not left since.
Peter knew he shouldn’t set his hope to high; the crime lord had had Neal for over twelve hours at this point.
But whatever he had done they would be able to deal with, as long as Neal was still alive.
So now Peter was standing in front of the apartment door while he waited for the SWAT- team to get in position. It felt like they had been on it for hours. Meanwhile Neal could be getting tortured or worse…Peter didn’t want to think about it.
Peter’s gun was in his hand and he was waiting for the okay, to move in, when Neal was so close.
A cry sounding from inside broke what little resolve Peter had had to wait. He desperately hoped not to walk into The Red Hood doing things to Neal, as he broke down the door.
He fond them in the living room, both fully clothed, thank god, but The Red Hood was on on top of Neal!
“Let go of him!” Peter put as much authority in his tone as he could muster as he pointed the gun at The Red Hood.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to shoot it though, or he might hit Neal in the process. And evidently so did The Red Hood, because instead of letting go of Neal he just squeezed him tighter with a gleeful expression on his face.
“Little Wing, as much as I love cuddling with you, I think now might not be the best time for that.” Neal said calmly and with a smile on his face?
Peter didn’t understand…
Neal was holding a phone he realized belatedly, he also didn’t seem hurt and there were two hot mugs on the couch table smelling of hot chocolate.
“What is going on?” Peter questioned as he lowered his gun.
Neal sighed.
“Peter, please meet my brother.”
And Peter? Well Peter bluescreened.