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Title: (Meet Me) At the Crossroads (Part IV)
Author:
sheenianni
Artist:
aragarna
Fandom: White Collar
Notes: See Prologue
PART IV

Neal is woken up by an annoying beeping sound. “What…”
Drawing herself up, Kate reaches for the phone and pushes the ‘Decline’ button. “It’s just Mozzie. He can call later,” she says with a yawn. She gives him a tired but goofy smile.
Clasping Kate’s hand, Neal turns on his side to get a better view on her face. “You have no idea how much I missed this.”
“I think I know,” laughs Kate.
Pushing away a stray lock from Kate’s face, Neal snuggles even closer.
It was the first night he has slept without nightmares since the plane exploded.
“We need to talk,” says Kate seriously.
“Not now.”
Talking was all they could do while he was in prison. Neal knows Kate is right – eventually, there are things they will have to talk about – the plane, Adler, his escape, the past year, their miscommunication that led to his second sentence, the million little and big things that they couldn’t talk about while he was at Sing Sing. And then they will have to start planning their adieu, figure out where to go and what the future holds for them.
But that could all wait for later.
Neal reaches for Kate again (she is still there; maybe tomorrow he will finally believe it) when Kate’s phone beeps once more.
“Not again,” says Kate with a sigh.
But before she can turn the phone off, Mozzie’s voice comes through the voicemail. “I know you’re there. Pick up the phone, Renétr.”
“‘Renétr’?” Neal asks with a frown.
Kate rolls her eyes. “Mozzie’s way to pronounce my new alias.” Sighing, she picks up. “’Morning. Do you have any idea what time is it?”
“Ahem, do you? Please tell me you two aren’t that stupid and that your companion is on his way back right now?”
Neal feels as if he was hit by ice water. “Shit – Moz, what time is it?”
“ It’s quarter to six, and no names! I can’t believe you! Do you know what will happen if you’re not here?! Of all the stupid stunts – ”
“Damn it.” Before Mozzie can finish his rant, Neal is already grabbing his trousers. As he fumbles with the belt, his mind rushes to the possible disastrous outcomes – Peter’s anger, Kate being discovered, a one-way ticket to prison for him –
Understanding the gravity of the situation, Kate rushes to help him put on his shirt. She zips up Neal’s jacket when his fingers are shaking too badly. If he’s late –
“Stall him,” orders Kate.
“I will try, but–”
“You promised, Mozzie,” says Kate urgently. “I don’t care what you have to do; just stall. Tell Burke Neal’s still asleep or crash into his car; just do something–”
“I can make it.” Hopefully. But despite his paleness, Neal’s voice is steady. “If I’m not there, ask June to help – she’ll know what to say.”
“Neal–”
“Thanks, Moz,” says Kate firmly and hangs up.
Almost despite himself, Neal smiles.
He hurries as he’s putting on his shoes, but he takes his time to kiss Kate properly.
“You need to go–”
Neal kisses her again, burying his hand in Kate’s hair while clutching her shoulder with the other.
When they finally part, Kate’s expression is both loving and sad.
“Run fast. Be safe.”
“I’ll be back,” Neal promises.
Then he turns around and bolts out of the door.
* * *
As he arrives at Neal’s that morning, the first thing Peter notices is the newly installed peephole in Neal’s door. Pausing as he remembers Mozzie’s warning, he knocks on the door and then waits.
If the little guy wasn’t lying, then the last thing he wants is to get his head smashed with a baseball bat.
A moment later, Peter hears someone approaching the door. However, when the door opens, it’s not Neal who greets him at the doorstep.
“Hey, Mozzie. What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same about you, Peter,” says Mozzie with a glare.
Peter blinks. “Excuse me?”
“You’re early!” snaps Mozzie, his voice dripping with disapproval. “Yesterday you acted all concerned, then today you can’t wait to get your government fingers on him? Suit,” he utters as an insult.
What the hell? “Government… no, I don’t want to know. Just let me in, Mozzie.”
Stepping aside, Mozzie allows Peter into the apartment. “Neal’s in the shower,” he says as an afterthought before sitting down on one of the chairs.
“I don’t understand,” says Peter with a frown. “What’s going on?”
Mozzie gives him an annoyed look before suddenly deflating. He sighs. “It’s been a long night.”
Right, the nightmares. “You’re staying here with him?” asks Peter with sudden understanding.
“What – right! Yes, of course.”
What –
Something is off here; Peter just can’t put his finger on it –
“Peter, you’re early!” exclaims Neal with a smile as he walks out of the bathroom wearing just a towel, his body dripping with water. “Want some coffee? I was just about to make some breakfast.”
Glancing briefly at his friend, Peter takes a double look when he notices a few scratches on Neal’s body and a bruise on his shoulder. “Stop,” he barks suddenly. “Don’t move.”
Freezing on the spot, Neal’s eyes widen with fear. “Peter?” he asks quietly.
At the moment, Peter wants to kick himself for scaring him. He stands up and approaches Neal, trying to appear non-threatening. “What happened,” he commands quietly as he gestures towards the bruise.
“What? Oh, that.” For a moment, Neal looks startled before suddenly relaxing. “Honestly, I have no idea how that happened–”
“Don’t lie to me,” says Peter sharply. “That’s a bite mark if I’ve ever seen one. Who did this?”
“Neal’s private life is his own damn business, Suit,” says Mozzie from afar, but Peter’s mind is already attacked by sickening and terrifying scenarios. It has been three days since Neal left prison. If someone attacked him, then Neal’s paranoia made even more sense–
“Moz is right. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get dressed,” says Neal a bit sharply, moving past Peter.
Peter watches him as Neal puts on a shirt. “Neal, if someone hurt you–”
“What?” Turning around, Neal’s tight expression suddenly softens and then becomes sheepish as he connects the dots. “No, Peter – no. Wow, you thought – I’m sorry. I swear, nothing happened that wasn’t voluntary. ”
“Are you sure about that?” asks Peter sharply. There are many forms of coercion, after all.
Neal sighs before giving him a grim smile. “Absolutely. The great thing about sex, Peter, is that it makes you feel alive. … Now can we please drop this topic before I get even more embarrassed?”
“Who…?” asks Peter curiously.
“Sorry. Like Mozzie said, none of your business.”
“Okay,” says Peter at last.
“Penny for you, Suit,” says Mozzie sarcastically.
“Great.” Neal beams at him. “Now I know Moz has a problem with the milk, but what about you? Do you like pancakes?
Peter clears his throat. “Actually, I came here early because we got new information on the case.”
Neal sighs before giving him a winning smile. “You want to interrupt my breakfast? Peter, come on–”
“Cowboy up,” says Peter, for once the words coming easily despite the past events. “I’ll buy you some bagels on the way to the office,” he promises with a small smile.
“Coffee?”
“Starbucks is on our way,” says Peter cheerfully.
“Great. Let me find my jacket.”
With Mozzie glaring at him, Peter waits as Neal puts on his jacket, tie and finds one of his hats. “Ready to go?”
“Neal–” says Mozzie suddenly.
“See you later, Moz,” Neal replies. Then he puts on his hat and follows Peter out of the apartment.
* * *
As the door close behind the Suit and Neal, Mozzie waits for a few moments before shakily collapsing on a random chair. When his feet stop shaking, he stands up again and then goes to raid Neal’s fridge, finally finding a bottle of scotch. Pouring himself a shot, he drinks it down in one gulp; then he leans against the kitchen counter and just breathes.
That was awfully close.
He didn’t even have the time to berate Neal when he arrived – they barely managed to log in Neal’s anklet again when they heard Peter’s knock on the door. In a flash of brilliance, Neal shook off his shoes, rushed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Catching on, Mozzie stuck the anklet jammer under the bed and placed Neal’s shoes at their regular place on his way to the door before greeting Peter like the somewhat annoyed but innocent, concerned friend.
If the Suit hadn’t knocked and simply entered, it would have all been over.
Damn Neal and Kate! Didn’t they realize what was at stake here?
Still furious with them, Mozzie pours himself another shot and then almost sways on his feet, the alcohol and adrenalin making him feel dizzy. He always hated close calls like that, even though they didn’t come as a surprise. Part of having Neal as his front man and friend also meant that Mozzie used to clean up these messes – sometimes literally.
Entering the bathroom, Moz frowns, looking for Neal’s clothes before finding it in the clothes basket. Clever – even if the Suit had entered, he wouldn’t have noticed anything amiss; nothing to testify to the fact that Neal had just ran all over the city back from Mozzie’s warehouse. Content with the state of the bathroom, Moz goes back to the bedroom and places the anklet jammer into its usual, less conspicuous place.
And then when Neal returns tonight, he will talk some sense into him to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.
* * *
Over the next few days, Peter watches Neal with a mixture of concern and disquiet.
He knows Neal still isn’t sleeping enough; he recognizes the symptoms of PTSD. He sees it, but he can’t do anything beyond what he’s already doing; providing stability and tough comfort, distracting Neal with the case and covering for him whenever he slips and becomes distracted or lost in some dark private place. Luckily Neal’s skills of a con man are so deeply ingrained in him that their ruse mostly works and nobody except for Diana suspects anything wrong.
Sometimes, Peter hates keeping all these secrets.
The music box, the very key to the past events, is hidden in Diana’s safe. Another piece of clue is the mysterious meeting Fowler was supposed to go to, a mere three weeks from now. With Diana acting as his backup, Peter wonders what they will uncover and whether they will be able to get Neal some answers and closure. No matter what he personally thought of her, Kate Moreau’s murderers deserve to be brought to justice.
Peter doesn’t doubt Neal and Mozzie are investigating this too, but without official resources they might not get very far, and it’s probably for the best. The last thing Peter wants is for Neal to do something rash and get himself in trouble again.
For a week, they go on like that, until Neal messes up and blows their case.
* * *
Their investigation of Angela Santano suddenly becomes top priority when they hear a rumor that she made several IDs for an Irish mobster and infamous hitman. Ruiz comes to the White Collar department and demands to know the state of their investigation, only being mollified when Peter reassures him they will keep him in the loop.
Courtesy of Mozzie and one of Ruiz’s informants, they learn where Angela is staying and the code-phrases to use when someone wants to buy a new identity from her. Despite Peter’s misgivings, Neal is the obvious choice for the case – and even if he has doubts, a frown on Hughes’s face decides the matter for him. Besides, Neal reassures him he can handle it, and Hughes is right – if Peter doesn’t let Neal go undercover on something that is right up his alley, then what is their CI’s place on the team?
“Nothing crazy, Neal,” says Peter in a half-voice as they fit Neal with a bug and remove his anklet. “Go in, get her to agree to make the passports, then get out, okay?”
“Peter, relax,” Neal laughs at him.
“Hey,” Peter stops him before he can leave. “We need this one. Got it?”
“Yeah, sure. No problem,” says Neal lightly.
Some time later, Neal enters the bar that Angela frequents; Jones is already there with a drink, acting as backup while Peter and Diana are waiting in the van.
At first, everything goes smoothly. Neal approaches Angela, tells her the code phrase and gets invited to a private corner with her. Peter and Diana exchange a look – good start.
Peter has to hand it to Angela – the woman is careful, weighing every word even as she discusses the crime with Neal. Even as they’re about to close the deal, she still hasn’t said anything directly incriminating, despite Neal’s subtle directions to get her to do just that.
And then it happens.
Since the beginning of the interview, Neal and Angela have been flirting. At first Peter grins a bit at one of Neal’s compliments – it’s good to hear Neal sound more like himself. As their conversation proceeds, Peter notices Neal withdrawing a bit, but he doesn’t think it’s a cause for concern, until…
“I could have everything finished in three days. How about you pick them up later that night?”
“Sorry. Can’t do late nights.”
“You sure? We could meet at the Central Park; there’s a nice restaurant–”
Suddenly, they here a shuffle of the chair. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What?” Bewildered, Peter and Diana exchange a worried look.
“Hey, wow, chill off,” they hear Angela Santano on the tape.
“Don’t touch me!”
There is a pause. “Look, I’m sorry if I misread something there. Can we just get back to business?”
Peter breaths out in relief. They could still salvage this–
“I’ve got to go.”
“What?! No, Neal, don’t–”
”Mr. Halden–”
“–don’t do this–”
–but he already hears Neal rushing away.
“Hey guys? Can anyone tell me what just happened there?” asks Jones into his transmitter, but Peter just shakes his head.
“Go after him,” murmurs Diana, and it’s all the prompting Peter needs before he hurries out to find Neal, to ask him what the hell happened…
… even as he prays that Neal hasn’t just condemned himself to a trip back to jail.
* * *
When Peter finally finds Neal leaning against a wall in a back alley, he is torn between concern and anger. “Hey. What the hell happened there?”
Neal gives him a blank stare before he snaps out of his reverie. “I have to go back there.”
“She already left,” says Peter, relying a message from Jones.
“Damn it.” Shaking his head, Neal straightens himself. “Any idea where she went? Did she keep my photos?”
“I don’t know. I’ll call Jones–”
“She threw out the envelope on her way out,” Jones confirms a few moments later.
“Damn it. Thanks.” Hanging up, Peter looks at Neal again. “Do you have her contact? A number, anything?”
“Nothing except for Central Park,” says Neal despondently. “Peter–”
“If you approach her at the bar again–”
“She’s careful; she’s smart to know something was off. She won’t talk to me.”
“What happened?” presses Peter again.
“She grabbed my hand.”
“And you ran away?” asks Peter in disbelief.
Neal just shakes his head and doesn’t answer.
Peter closes his eyes.
“Go home,” he says when he opens them. “Get some damn sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
He doesn’t yet know how he’s going to fix this. But first, he has to go to the office to do some damage control.
* * *
When Peter finishes his report, Hughes stares at him with an inscrutable expression.
“We’re not really worse off than before,” states Peter reasonably after explaining the situation. “Neal didn’t tip off our hand; we just have to find another way in.”
“It shouldn’t have been necessary!” says Hughes sharply. “Organized Crime called as soon as they learned today’s sting fell through. This case was right up Caffrey’s alley. … Peter, we talked about this.”
This can’t be happening. “We will get Santano; we just need more time,” says Peter.
“You better be right.” Hughes pauses. “Ruiz was going to raise a small stir. I talked him out of taking over the case for now, but if we don’t get results–”
“Thank you,” says Peter with relief.
Hughes rubs a weary hand over his face. “Talk to him, Peter. I don’t care how you do it, but if Caffrey doesn’t get his head back into the game, the DOJ will notice sooner or later. Get me our CI back.”
The other outcome hangs in the air between them, unspoken.
On his way out, Peter grabs the file they have on Angela Santano and prepares himself for a long night.
* * *
Go home and get some sleep.
For once, Neal actually considers obeying Peter’s order. His nightlife has been taking out a toll on him; for a brief moment, he entertains the idea of just texting Kate tonight and then collapsing in his own bed at June’s. But as wonderful as the thought of sleep sounds, not being able to see Kate would be unbearable, especially after he promised to take care of her.
Besides, the weekend is only three days away, about to provide him with a reprieve from the FBI.
As he reaches his apartment, Neal drops himself on the sofa and then closes his eyes for a moment to get some rest, just for a few minutes....
…
“Hey.”
Neal’s eyes snap open –
“Moz?”
His friend gives him a tight smile. “In person.”
“Wait, what time is it?” asks Neal with a frown.
“Eleven p.m.,” says Mozzie with a sigh. “You know you could take a break–”
“I’m fine, Moz,” says Neal dismissively.
There is a moment of silence.
“The Suit texted me,” says Mozzie at last. “He said something about a problem on a case…”
“I screwed up,” admits Neal reluctantly.
When Angela touched him, when she squeezed his hand with that look of desire, all he could see was the exploding plane and Kate’s screams from his nightmares; her face twisted in betrayal and agony.
“Neal, if you make the Suit suspicious–”
“It doesn’t matter,” Neal interrupts him. “Where are we on our getaway?”
“Almost done. Depending on how she feels, Kate should be well enough to handle the travel in the next week or two.”
“Good.” Neal pauses. “Did you get it?” he asks a moment later.
“When did I let you down?” asks Mozzie rhetorically.
With some obvious reluctance, Mozzie opens his handbag and pulls out a small package. Wordlessly, Neal unwraps the cloth to reveal an old revolver, a holster and a small case of bullets. Suppressing a feeling of distaste, he first points the gun away before confirming that it’s not loaded. He checks the gun, but everything seems to be in order, so he aims it a few times to get a better feel of it before he loads the bullets in.
Mozzie clears his throat. “Look, not that I don’t see your reasoning, but – are you really sure about this? Because if you’re not–”
“I’ll only take it with me when I’m coming to Kate, and I won’t be using it unless I have to,” says Neal evenly. “You still don’t know who’s been trying to follow me?”
“Neal, I’m not even sure someone actually did try to track you…”
“It was during the day. And trust me, I know how it feels when I have a tail.”
Mozzie grimaces. “Okay. I’ll keep working on it.”
“Thanks, Moz.”
Sometimes, Neal doesn’t know how he deserved his friend’s loyalty.
Staring at the gun, Neal tries to collect his thoughts. He pictures himself in a dark alley, discovering the person who’s been sent by Adler to follow him… confronting them… killing them. He almost gives the gun right back to Mozzie… almost.
They hurt Kate; they tried to murder her and almost succeeded. If he’s not ready to defend her because of principles, then what does that make him?
He wonders what Peter would say if he saw him right now, and his stomach twists when he thinks of all the secrets and outright lies he has told in the past twelve days since his release from prison. But Kate’s safety is too important to him, and simply he can’t risk it anymore – not even for Peter. By the time the agent realizes that Neal has played him, both Neal and Kate will be long gone.
That’s just the way it has to be.
* * *
Part V
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Artist:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Fandom: White Collar
Notes: See Prologue
___________________________________
PART IV

Neal is woken up by an annoying beeping sound. “What…”
Drawing herself up, Kate reaches for the phone and pushes the ‘Decline’ button. “It’s just Mozzie. He can call later,” she says with a yawn. She gives him a tired but goofy smile.
Clasping Kate’s hand, Neal turns on his side to get a better view on her face. “You have no idea how much I missed this.”
“I think I know,” laughs Kate.
Pushing away a stray lock from Kate’s face, Neal snuggles even closer.
It was the first night he has slept without nightmares since the plane exploded.
“We need to talk,” says Kate seriously.
“Not now.”
Talking was all they could do while he was in prison. Neal knows Kate is right – eventually, there are things they will have to talk about – the plane, Adler, his escape, the past year, their miscommunication that led to his second sentence, the million little and big things that they couldn’t talk about while he was at Sing Sing. And then they will have to start planning their adieu, figure out where to go and what the future holds for them.
But that could all wait for later.
Neal reaches for Kate again (she is still there; maybe tomorrow he will finally believe it) when Kate’s phone beeps once more.
“Not again,” says Kate with a sigh.
But before she can turn the phone off, Mozzie’s voice comes through the voicemail. “I know you’re there. Pick up the phone, Renétr.”
“‘Renétr’?” Neal asks with a frown.
Kate rolls her eyes. “Mozzie’s way to pronounce my new alias.” Sighing, she picks up. “’Morning. Do you have any idea what time is it?”
“Ahem, do you? Please tell me you two aren’t that stupid and that your companion is on his way back right now?”
Neal feels as if he was hit by ice water. “Shit – Moz, what time is it?”
“ It’s quarter to six, and no names! I can’t believe you! Do you know what will happen if you’re not here?! Of all the stupid stunts – ”
“Damn it.” Before Mozzie can finish his rant, Neal is already grabbing his trousers. As he fumbles with the belt, his mind rushes to the possible disastrous outcomes – Peter’s anger, Kate being discovered, a one-way ticket to prison for him –
Understanding the gravity of the situation, Kate rushes to help him put on his shirt. She zips up Neal’s jacket when his fingers are shaking too badly. If he’s late –
“Stall him,” orders Kate.
“I will try, but–”
“You promised, Mozzie,” says Kate urgently. “I don’t care what you have to do; just stall. Tell Burke Neal’s still asleep or crash into his car; just do something–”
“I can make it.” Hopefully. But despite his paleness, Neal’s voice is steady. “If I’m not there, ask June to help – she’ll know what to say.”
“Neal–”
“Thanks, Moz,” says Kate firmly and hangs up.
Almost despite himself, Neal smiles.
He hurries as he’s putting on his shoes, but he takes his time to kiss Kate properly.
“You need to go–”
Neal kisses her again, burying his hand in Kate’s hair while clutching her shoulder with the other.
When they finally part, Kate’s expression is both loving and sad.
“Run fast. Be safe.”
“I’ll be back,” Neal promises.
Then he turns around and bolts out of the door.
As he arrives at Neal’s that morning, the first thing Peter notices is the newly installed peephole in Neal’s door. Pausing as he remembers Mozzie’s warning, he knocks on the door and then waits.
If the little guy wasn’t lying, then the last thing he wants is to get his head smashed with a baseball bat.
A moment later, Peter hears someone approaching the door. However, when the door opens, it’s not Neal who greets him at the doorstep.
“Hey, Mozzie. What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same about you, Peter,” says Mozzie with a glare.
Peter blinks. “Excuse me?”
“You’re early!” snaps Mozzie, his voice dripping with disapproval. “Yesterday you acted all concerned, then today you can’t wait to get your government fingers on him? Suit,” he utters as an insult.
What the hell? “Government… no, I don’t want to know. Just let me in, Mozzie.”
Stepping aside, Mozzie allows Peter into the apartment. “Neal’s in the shower,” he says as an afterthought before sitting down on one of the chairs.
“I don’t understand,” says Peter with a frown. “What’s going on?”
Mozzie gives him an annoyed look before suddenly deflating. He sighs. “It’s been a long night.”
Right, the nightmares. “You’re staying here with him?” asks Peter with sudden understanding.
“What – right! Yes, of course.”
What –
Something is off here; Peter just can’t put his finger on it –
“Peter, you’re early!” exclaims Neal with a smile as he walks out of the bathroom wearing just a towel, his body dripping with water. “Want some coffee? I was just about to make some breakfast.”
Glancing briefly at his friend, Peter takes a double look when he notices a few scratches on Neal’s body and a bruise on his shoulder. “Stop,” he barks suddenly. “Don’t move.”
Freezing on the spot, Neal’s eyes widen with fear. “Peter?” he asks quietly.
At the moment, Peter wants to kick himself for scaring him. He stands up and approaches Neal, trying to appear non-threatening. “What happened,” he commands quietly as he gestures towards the bruise.
“What? Oh, that.” For a moment, Neal looks startled before suddenly relaxing. “Honestly, I have no idea how that happened–”
“Don’t lie to me,” says Peter sharply. “That’s a bite mark if I’ve ever seen one. Who did this?”
“Neal’s private life is his own damn business, Suit,” says Mozzie from afar, but Peter’s mind is already attacked by sickening and terrifying scenarios. It has been three days since Neal left prison. If someone attacked him, then Neal’s paranoia made even more sense–
“Moz is right. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get dressed,” says Neal a bit sharply, moving past Peter.
Peter watches him as Neal puts on a shirt. “Neal, if someone hurt you–”
“What?” Turning around, Neal’s tight expression suddenly softens and then becomes sheepish as he connects the dots. “No, Peter – no. Wow, you thought – I’m sorry. I swear, nothing happened that wasn’t voluntary. ”
“Are you sure about that?” asks Peter sharply. There are many forms of coercion, after all.
Neal sighs before giving him a grim smile. “Absolutely. The great thing about sex, Peter, is that it makes you feel alive. … Now can we please drop this topic before I get even more embarrassed?”
“Who…?” asks Peter curiously.
“Sorry. Like Mozzie said, none of your business.”
“Okay,” says Peter at last.
“Penny for you, Suit,” says Mozzie sarcastically.
“Great.” Neal beams at him. “Now I know Moz has a problem with the milk, but what about you? Do you like pancakes?
Peter clears his throat. “Actually, I came here early because we got new information on the case.”
Neal sighs before giving him a winning smile. “You want to interrupt my breakfast? Peter, come on–”
“Cowboy up,” says Peter, for once the words coming easily despite the past events. “I’ll buy you some bagels on the way to the office,” he promises with a small smile.
“Coffee?”
“Starbucks is on our way,” says Peter cheerfully.
“Great. Let me find my jacket.”
With Mozzie glaring at him, Peter waits as Neal puts on his jacket, tie and finds one of his hats. “Ready to go?”
“Neal–” says Mozzie suddenly.
“See you later, Moz,” Neal replies. Then he puts on his hat and follows Peter out of the apartment.
As the door close behind the Suit and Neal, Mozzie waits for a few moments before shakily collapsing on a random chair. When his feet stop shaking, he stands up again and then goes to raid Neal’s fridge, finally finding a bottle of scotch. Pouring himself a shot, he drinks it down in one gulp; then he leans against the kitchen counter and just breathes.
That was awfully close.
He didn’t even have the time to berate Neal when he arrived – they barely managed to log in Neal’s anklet again when they heard Peter’s knock on the door. In a flash of brilliance, Neal shook off his shoes, rushed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Catching on, Mozzie stuck the anklet jammer under the bed and placed Neal’s shoes at their regular place on his way to the door before greeting Peter like the somewhat annoyed but innocent, concerned friend.
If the Suit hadn’t knocked and simply entered, it would have all been over.
Damn Neal and Kate! Didn’t they realize what was at stake here?
Still furious with them, Mozzie pours himself another shot and then almost sways on his feet, the alcohol and adrenalin making him feel dizzy. He always hated close calls like that, even though they didn’t come as a surprise. Part of having Neal as his front man and friend also meant that Mozzie used to clean up these messes – sometimes literally.
Entering the bathroom, Moz frowns, looking for Neal’s clothes before finding it in the clothes basket. Clever – even if the Suit had entered, he wouldn’t have noticed anything amiss; nothing to testify to the fact that Neal had just ran all over the city back from Mozzie’s warehouse. Content with the state of the bathroom, Moz goes back to the bedroom and places the anklet jammer into its usual, less conspicuous place.
And then when Neal returns tonight, he will talk some sense into him to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.
Over the next few days, Peter watches Neal with a mixture of concern and disquiet.
He knows Neal still isn’t sleeping enough; he recognizes the symptoms of PTSD. He sees it, but he can’t do anything beyond what he’s already doing; providing stability and tough comfort, distracting Neal with the case and covering for him whenever he slips and becomes distracted or lost in some dark private place. Luckily Neal’s skills of a con man are so deeply ingrained in him that their ruse mostly works and nobody except for Diana suspects anything wrong.
Sometimes, Peter hates keeping all these secrets.
The music box, the very key to the past events, is hidden in Diana’s safe. Another piece of clue is the mysterious meeting Fowler was supposed to go to, a mere three weeks from now. With Diana acting as his backup, Peter wonders what they will uncover and whether they will be able to get Neal some answers and closure. No matter what he personally thought of her, Kate Moreau’s murderers deserve to be brought to justice.
Peter doesn’t doubt Neal and Mozzie are investigating this too, but without official resources they might not get very far, and it’s probably for the best. The last thing Peter wants is for Neal to do something rash and get himself in trouble again.
For a week, they go on like that, until Neal messes up and blows their case.
Their investigation of Angela Santano suddenly becomes top priority when they hear a rumor that she made several IDs for an Irish mobster and infamous hitman. Ruiz comes to the White Collar department and demands to know the state of their investigation, only being mollified when Peter reassures him they will keep him in the loop.
Courtesy of Mozzie and one of Ruiz’s informants, they learn where Angela is staying and the code-phrases to use when someone wants to buy a new identity from her. Despite Peter’s misgivings, Neal is the obvious choice for the case – and even if he has doubts, a frown on Hughes’s face decides the matter for him. Besides, Neal reassures him he can handle it, and Hughes is right – if Peter doesn’t let Neal go undercover on something that is right up his alley, then what is their CI’s place on the team?
“Nothing crazy, Neal,” says Peter in a half-voice as they fit Neal with a bug and remove his anklet. “Go in, get her to agree to make the passports, then get out, okay?”
“Peter, relax,” Neal laughs at him.
“Hey,” Peter stops him before he can leave. “We need this one. Got it?”
“Yeah, sure. No problem,” says Neal lightly.
Some time later, Neal enters the bar that Angela frequents; Jones is already there with a drink, acting as backup while Peter and Diana are waiting in the van.
At first, everything goes smoothly. Neal approaches Angela, tells her the code phrase and gets invited to a private corner with her. Peter and Diana exchange a look – good start.
Peter has to hand it to Angela – the woman is careful, weighing every word even as she discusses the crime with Neal. Even as they’re about to close the deal, she still hasn’t said anything directly incriminating, despite Neal’s subtle directions to get her to do just that.
And then it happens.
Since the beginning of the interview, Neal and Angela have been flirting. At first Peter grins a bit at one of Neal’s compliments – it’s good to hear Neal sound more like himself. As their conversation proceeds, Peter notices Neal withdrawing a bit, but he doesn’t think it’s a cause for concern, until…
“I could have everything finished in three days. How about you pick them up later that night?”
“Sorry. Can’t do late nights.”
“You sure? We could meet at the Central Park; there’s a nice restaurant–”
Suddenly, they here a shuffle of the chair. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What?” Bewildered, Peter and Diana exchange a worried look.
“Hey, wow, chill off,” they hear Angela Santano on the tape.
“Don’t touch me!”
There is a pause. “Look, I’m sorry if I misread something there. Can we just get back to business?”
Peter breaths out in relief. They could still salvage this–
“I’ve got to go.”
“What?! No, Neal, don’t–”
”Mr. Halden–”
“–don’t do this–”
–but he already hears Neal rushing away.
“Hey guys? Can anyone tell me what just happened there?” asks Jones into his transmitter, but Peter just shakes his head.
“Go after him,” murmurs Diana, and it’s all the prompting Peter needs before he hurries out to find Neal, to ask him what the hell happened…
… even as he prays that Neal hasn’t just condemned himself to a trip back to jail.
When Peter finally finds Neal leaning against a wall in a back alley, he is torn between concern and anger. “Hey. What the hell happened there?”
Neal gives him a blank stare before he snaps out of his reverie. “I have to go back there.”
“She already left,” says Peter, relying a message from Jones.
“Damn it.” Shaking his head, Neal straightens himself. “Any idea where she went? Did she keep my photos?”
“I don’t know. I’ll call Jones–”
“She threw out the envelope on her way out,” Jones confirms a few moments later.
“Damn it. Thanks.” Hanging up, Peter looks at Neal again. “Do you have her contact? A number, anything?”
“Nothing except for Central Park,” says Neal despondently. “Peter–”
“If you approach her at the bar again–”
“She’s careful; she’s smart to know something was off. She won’t talk to me.”
“What happened?” presses Peter again.
“She grabbed my hand.”
“And you ran away?” asks Peter in disbelief.
Neal just shakes his head and doesn’t answer.
Peter closes his eyes.
“Go home,” he says when he opens them. “Get some damn sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
He doesn’t yet know how he’s going to fix this. But first, he has to go to the office to do some damage control.
When Peter finishes his report, Hughes stares at him with an inscrutable expression.
“We’re not really worse off than before,” states Peter reasonably after explaining the situation. “Neal didn’t tip off our hand; we just have to find another way in.”
“It shouldn’t have been necessary!” says Hughes sharply. “Organized Crime called as soon as they learned today’s sting fell through. This case was right up Caffrey’s alley. … Peter, we talked about this.”
This can’t be happening. “We will get Santano; we just need more time,” says Peter.
“You better be right.” Hughes pauses. “Ruiz was going to raise a small stir. I talked him out of taking over the case for now, but if we don’t get results–”
“Thank you,” says Peter with relief.
Hughes rubs a weary hand over his face. “Talk to him, Peter. I don’t care how you do it, but if Caffrey doesn’t get his head back into the game, the DOJ will notice sooner or later. Get me our CI back.”
The other outcome hangs in the air between them, unspoken.
On his way out, Peter grabs the file they have on Angela Santano and prepares himself for a long night.
Go home and get some sleep.
For once, Neal actually considers obeying Peter’s order. His nightlife has been taking out a toll on him; for a brief moment, he entertains the idea of just texting Kate tonight and then collapsing in his own bed at June’s. But as wonderful as the thought of sleep sounds, not being able to see Kate would be unbearable, especially after he promised to take care of her.
Besides, the weekend is only three days away, about to provide him with a reprieve from the FBI.
As he reaches his apartment, Neal drops himself on the sofa and then closes his eyes for a moment to get some rest, just for a few minutes....
…
“Hey.”
Neal’s eyes snap open –
“Moz?”
His friend gives him a tight smile. “In person.”
“Wait, what time is it?” asks Neal with a frown.
“Eleven p.m.,” says Mozzie with a sigh. “You know you could take a break–”
“I’m fine, Moz,” says Neal dismissively.
There is a moment of silence.
“The Suit texted me,” says Mozzie at last. “He said something about a problem on a case…”
“I screwed up,” admits Neal reluctantly.
When Angela touched him, when she squeezed his hand with that look of desire, all he could see was the exploding plane and Kate’s screams from his nightmares; her face twisted in betrayal and agony.
“Neal, if you make the Suit suspicious–”
“It doesn’t matter,” Neal interrupts him. “Where are we on our getaway?”
“Almost done. Depending on how she feels, Kate should be well enough to handle the travel in the next week or two.”
“Good.” Neal pauses. “Did you get it?” he asks a moment later.
“When did I let you down?” asks Mozzie rhetorically.
With some obvious reluctance, Mozzie opens his handbag and pulls out a small package. Wordlessly, Neal unwraps the cloth to reveal an old revolver, a holster and a small case of bullets. Suppressing a feeling of distaste, he first points the gun away before confirming that it’s not loaded. He checks the gun, but everything seems to be in order, so he aims it a few times to get a better feel of it before he loads the bullets in.
Mozzie clears his throat. “Look, not that I don’t see your reasoning, but – are you really sure about this? Because if you’re not–”
“I’ll only take it with me when I’m coming to Kate, and I won’t be using it unless I have to,” says Neal evenly. “You still don’t know who’s been trying to follow me?”
“Neal, I’m not even sure someone actually did try to track you…”
“It was during the day. And trust me, I know how it feels when I have a tail.”
Mozzie grimaces. “Okay. I’ll keep working on it.”
“Thanks, Moz.”
Sometimes, Neal doesn’t know how he deserved his friend’s loyalty.
Staring at the gun, Neal tries to collect his thoughts. He pictures himself in a dark alley, discovering the person who’s been sent by Adler to follow him… confronting them… killing them. He almost gives the gun right back to Mozzie… almost.
They hurt Kate; they tried to murder her and almost succeeded. If he’s not ready to defend her because of principles, then what does that make him?
He wonders what Peter would say if he saw him right now, and his stomach twists when he thinks of all the secrets and outright lies he has told in the past twelve days since his release from prison. But Kate’s safety is too important to him, and simply he can’t risk it anymore – not even for Peter. By the time the agent realizes that Neal has played him, both Neal and Kate will be long gone.
That’s just the way it has to be.
Part V