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nywcgirl (

nywcgirl) wrote in

wcpairings on May 30th, 2016 at 10:36 am

FOR KANAREK13: A soul for a soul

Author: nywcgirl
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: None
Characters: Neal, Peter, Mozzie, Curtis Hagen
Warning/genre: Angst, supernatural, Angels, demons, friendship, death of a major character (this is not a death fic, I promise), hurt/comfort
Spoilers: none
Rating: Gen

Author's Notes: This little fic is inspired by the gorgeous art made by

kanarek13 and written for

wcpairings. I know H/C and winged boys are always a favorite.

Word Count: ~5000

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: What sacrifice is Neal willing to make to save Peter?

Green Wood Cemetery…

“Hello Neal. I must admit, I hadn´t expected you to show up.”
“Well I am here, aren´t I? Let´s get this over with.”
“Why the rush? I want to enjoy this moment. Our friend Peter here, isn´t going anywhere.” Hagen points at the headstone with a malicious smile.
“He is not your friend.” Neal snarls.
“Temper, temper.”
Hagen studies Neal. He can see the barely held back anger. Neal’s eyes show his inner rage. It is like a fire burning inside of him. Good. That was exactly what he wanted.
Out of nowhere, Hagen is holding a dagger and a roll of parchment.
“So Neal, tell me, what are you willing to give us to have agent Burke going back to his loving wife?”
“Anything.” Neal answers without hesitation.
“Interesting answer. Anything… There is so much to chose from.”
Hagen enjoys this moment and he can see Neal clenching his jaws.
“What about…”

* * *

A week earlier…

Peter and Neal were working a high profile case. A painting was stolen from the Met and it had been all over the newspapers. Neal had worked his streets contacts and they were ready to take down the fence during an undercover operation. Peter would go in as a buyer and Neal as his art consultant.
Everything went without a hitch, until the suspect pulled a rifle, not a gun, but a big rifle. Peter and Neal just stared at it for a second and different to the movies, this guy didn´t hold a speech before shooting, he just fired. Peter didn´t have a chance, the shot hit him square in the chest and he was dead before he hit the floor. Neal stood frozen in his spot. He hadn´t seen this coming. This wasn´t how it was supposed to be. He ran over to Peter and knelt down. He had failed to protect Peter. He barely registered the second gunshot mend for him. He could feel the bullet woosh passed him.
He pushed his fingers against Peter´s neck, but he knew what he would find… nothing. The amount of blood on the floor told everything.
“Agent down, agent down.” Was all that came out of Neal. It didn´t take long before sounds of the take down team entering the building could be heard. They found Neal behind a wall with Peter in his arms. He was rocking back and forth, repeating the same words, over and over.
“It´s going to be OK. It´s going to be OK.”
The SWAT leader approached the two men, but Neal didn´t even acknowledge their presence. He too felt for a pulse and shook his head, leaving Diana and Jones standing in shock, when they realized the implications of the gesture.
“You talk to Hughes and Elizabeth. I will take care of Caffrey.” Jones suggested, not looking forward to accompany Hughes to Elizabeth to tell her the news.
“Sure, I will call Hughes.” Diana answered and switched into agent mode and walking towards her car.
Jones approached Neal and crouched down next to him.
“Neal? Neal?” You need to let go of Peter.” Jones said gently.
But Neal wasn´t responding at all. He kept rocking and when Jones tried to pull Peter from his arms, he only gripped the cooling body firmer.
“It´s OK, Neal, we will wait for the coroner.” Jones kept his hand on Neal´s shoulder as if to keep him from running, but Neal has no intentions to go anywhere.
Eventually the ERT guys did their work and the coroner gestured to Jones that they had to round things up. Peter’s body was carefully placed in the body bag and taken away by the coroner. Neal was escorted back to the FBI building where all the White Collar agents had gathered.

* * *

Afterwards, Neal didn´t remember going home. He remembered Mozzie and June though, they were there waiting for him. June had made hot chocolate and they sat in front of the fireplace, because Neal couldn´t stop shivering. June had placed a handmade quilt around Neal´s shoulders, but Neal didn´t seem to be able to stop the tremors.
Next came the comfort food June’s cook had made. Neal didn´t really eat, he spent most of the time pushing his food around the plate, but he did manage to eat some bites. June and Mozzie escorted Neal to bed and while June tucked in Neal, Mozzie took a blanket and cushion and moved towards the couch. He wasn´t leaving Neal alone, not now. He had been forced to when Neal had been taken into custody after Kate´s death, but this time the feds had been graceful enough to leave Neal alone. June had been informed that Neal´s radius had been reduced to the house.
Neal woke up several times, he tossed and turned and he relived Peter´s shooting. The outcome however was every time different. Sometimes, Neal got shot and would be killed, other times, Peter was not death immediately. He could live with those, but the ones where Peter survived only to wake up and realize it was a nightmare, those were the worst.

The next morning, Mozzie woke Neal for breakfast. Neal just stared at his plate.
“You need to eat something, Neal.”
“I am no hungry.”
“I know, but you will need your strength, we should visit El. June already cleared it with the boss suit.”
Neal looked up at Mozzie and finally nodded.
“Yes, you are right, we need to see El.”
Neal got up to shower and dressed before making his way downstairs.
“Mozzie, I have an appointment that I can´t cancel, but will you make sure El get these?” June pointed at a large crate with Tupperware boxes. Definitely comfort foods cook made.
“Tell her, I will be by later.”
“I will, June.”
Neal picked up the crate and walked out to June´s town car that was waiting for them to take them to Brooklyn.

* * *

The funeral was something Neal just wanted to forget. He had buried too many people over the last few years and Peter was the last drop. Neal had displayed some rather destructive behavior in the days leading up to the funeral and June and Mozzie had worried.
But here they were. Neal would have laughed if the situation wasn´t so grave. For some reason, Neal always felt it should rain on funerals, like nature too was mourning. But it was a nice warm day.
The priest was chanting the prayers. Peter had been a lapsed Catholic, so there was no need to go through this charade. God hadn´t been on his side, he had let Peter down, on so many levels. Neal hated him for it. There wasn´t a higher goal to achieve.
Neal was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt El grab his arm. He could feel her keeping it together and being brave, she hadn´t shed a tear yet and Neal was wondering whether or not she was medicated. It seemed so unnatural to be this composed while they were burying the love of her live. But maybe he wasn´t a good judge, when Kate needed to be buried, he was locked up. He hadn´t been allowed to go to her funeral. Peter, El, June and Mozzie had attended in his name, but it wasn´t the same. He had been made to grief in his cell, alone.
But now he was here, between Peter´s and El´s family, like he was part of them. There were also a lot of friends and colleagues. Even Satchmo was present, he was sitting next to Neal, who had volunteered to take care of Satchmo these days, but in the end, it had been June who had been taking care of the old dog.
“The family is now going to say their goodbyes. Elizabeth asks you all to throw a rose onto the coffin to say goodbye, please take the time to do so. She also invites you all for coffee at Miss Ellington´s home.”
El stood up and locked eyes with Neal while extending her arm towards him. He quickly got up and gently took her arm, before escorting her to the open grave. They both took a rose and threw it onto the large wooden coffin. They are followed by family and friends.
“I love you, hon.”
“See you Butch.”
“Suit.”
"..."

* * *

“What about…”
“Your wings, I want your wings.” Hagen gives a predatory smile.
Neal considers playing dumb, but Hagen knows, he realizes. How did he find out? He hesitates a second, lets out a breath and answers. An eerie light comes from Peter´s grave and Neal can see the demons mark glowing in the dark. It doesn´t matter, he had been a lousy angel anyway, he hadn´t been able to prevent Peter being killed. So he must correct what he couldn´t in the past, even if it would cost him everything.
“OK, my wings for Peter´s release. I want you to set time back to the morning of the day Peter was shot.”
“Fine, now if you can sign this document…”
Neal steps forward and lets Hagen draw blood from his index finger. He pushes it against the parchment and Hagen only gives him a predatory smile.
“Now what?” Neal asks.
“Patience, Neal. Oh, yeah, there are some side effects…” Hagen still has a smile on his face that doesn´t bode well.
Neal wants to ask about them, but the pain that rips through Neal is nothing like he expected. He cries out, but the pain is so consuming that he doesn´t realizes he drops to his knees in front of Hagen. He tries to breathe, but no air is coming. The pain feels like a part of his soul is ripped from him. It doesn’t take long before he feels his vision graying out and he loses consciousness.

* * *

Neal wakes up to whispering. He does his best to listen to the conversation, but it seems to slip away from him. The words don´t register. He tries a couple of times to grasp the words, until finally turns white again.
The next time he realizes that he missed a part of the conversation, his minds seems to slip away now and then, and he is so tired, so he stops fighting against it and lets himself be pulled under again.
There is a moment when he realizes that he is conscious again, he does his best to open his eyes and eventually manages to open them to slits, the light hurts and he closes them again. Suddenly there is more noise, it is irritating and he can´t seem to pinpoint where it is coming from.
He startles when someone touches him.
“…el? … hear me?”
He wants to ask them to lower their voice, but his body still doesn´t respond to his brain.
“…OK. … gonna be OK.”
The disembodied voice is familiar and Neal tries to wrack his brain where he has heard it before. But he can´t seem to wrap his mind around it.
Over the next couple of days, Neal is in and out of consciousness, but although he is too weak to actually make anyone aware that he is awake, he can hear people talk to him, touch him, some touches are clinical, other warm and loving. He starts wondering what happened. Maybe he had an accident, something must have happened. He should try to make someone aware that he can hear them. First he tries to open his eyes, but they seemed to be glued together and he just can´t. The effort leaves him exhausted and he decides to rest for a moment.
The next time he is aware, he focuses on his right hand. But with trying to move it, the pain rips through him and he can´t contain the moan that is pulled from his throat. It gets him what he wants though. Suddenly there is a flurry of activity, he can hear people talking, they are touching him, it is all too much and when they lift his arm, the pain is back, but a thousand times worse and he chokes out a sob. He can feel something wet on his cheeks. It is just all too much and there is nothing he can do but letting go.

* * *

“Special Agent Burke?”
“Yes, speaking.”
“This is detective Outlander. We found a John Doe matching the BOLO you put out for a Neal Caffrey.”
“Is he alright? Where is he? I am coming over.”
“Paramedics took him to Lennox Hill. He was unconscious when we found him.”
“Was he hurt?”
“Yes, but I can´t give you details on his injuries.”
“Thanks, I am on my way to Lennox right now.”
“I will probably see you at the hospital.”

Peter grabs his coat and while walking down the stairs calls out to Jones telling him where he is going. And then hurries to his car.
When he arrives at the hospital, he is told that Neal is still in surgery. Nobody is answering his questions and it takes some convincing until Diana sends an email proving Peter is Neal´s medical proxy. A nurse tells him that he can walk up the surgical ward and wait there for Neal to be brought back.
Peter has to wait some time but finally a doctor in scrubs walks up to him.
“Family of Neal Caffrey?”
“No, but I am Neal´s medical proxy, I already showed the nurse the paperwork. I am special agent Peter Burke”
“No problem, I´m doctor Sturm, let´s sit down, shall we? I have been standing for some time.”
Peter can see the doctor is exhausted.
“Of course.”
They walk back towards the chairs and sit down. They are alone, for which Peter is grateful.
“How is he?”
“He will be OK, he is young and strong. But I must warn you, the recovery will be long as his shoulder blades were severely damaged.”
“His shoulder blades?”
“Yes, they are broken, well, more like shattered, for lack of a better word, I have never seen such damage before.”
“Do you have any idea what could have caused this?”
“No, one would think that he was shot, but we didn´t find any exit wounds or bullets, so it is not likely. They could have tortured him. But I guess that will be your field of expertise.”
“Yes, I guess it is. Can I see him?”
“Neal is still in recovery, he will probably be there for another hour. After that he will be transferred to an ICU bed.”
“ICU?”
“Yes, we want to monitor him closely. But I will ask the nurse to come and get you once he is settled in. I suggest you eat something and take care of things while you still can.”
“Thank you.”
Both men shake hands and the doctor leaves. Peter gets up and decides to go out and grab something to eat while making some phone calls. He promises the nurse to be back soon.

* * *

Peter is sipping from his cup of coffee, solving a cross word puzzle he bought, when the nurse comes towards him.
“Special Agent Burke?”
“Yes, but please, call me Peter.”
“Hi Peter, my name is Debby, I am Neal´s day nurse.”
“Nice to meet you. Can I see him?”
“Yes, if you follow me, we have Neal settled in his room.”
They walk up to a room, it has one glass side, so the nurses can watch their patients from the nurses’ station that is in center of the space.
The room is quite except for the huffs and puffs the machines are making. Debby explains all the machines to Peter. He guesses it is supposed to put him at ease, but it doesn´t.
Neal is lying on his stomach and the blanket only covers his legs up to his waist. His shoulders are heavily bandaged. Neal´s face is turned towards the door and he looks pale and drawn. Peter expected that Neal would have a relaxed expression in unconsciousness, but it is the opposite. Neal´s face shows pain, it isn´t slack.
“I will get you a chair. The doctor explained that you want to guard Neal. Is he still in danger?”
“We don´t know, he went missing and NYPD informed me that they had found him. My team is working on it. I just don´t want him to wake up alone.”
Debby places the chair next to the bed.
“Before I leave. You can get coffee down the hall. It is free, just let us know if the cans are empty so we can have them refilled.”
Peter nods. “Thanks.”
Debby leaves and Peter can see her taking a seat at the station. Peter sits down, taking Neal´s hand in his own.
“What happened to you, Neal?”
He rubs the hand with his thumb. Neal doesn´t give any sign that he hears Peter. Neal doesn´t move during the hours that Peter sits with him. His stomach growls and Peter realizes it is getting late. He should call El again to tell her, he isn´t coming home. He can´t leave Neal as long as he isn´t awake.
“Peter?”
Peter looks up and Debby is standing in the door.
“Yes?”
“Why don´t you go home and I will take care of Neal. I will let you know as soon as he starts showing signs of waking up. I promise.”
“I…”
“He is probably not waking up for the next couple of hours as he is getting fairly strong pain medication. You can´t exhaust yourself. He will need your support when he is awake. Really, we are fairly good I predicting when our patients start waking up.”
“OK, I will give you my cell phone number. Call me, day or night. I am used to it.” Peter gives her a small smile. He hands her his card and picks up his coat.
“I will, I promise.”

* * *

The next morning Peter arrives early at the ICU. Debby is not there, which is to be expected, even nurses need to sleep.
“You must be Peter.”
“Yes, I am. How is Neal?”
“My name is Sandra. Neal is doing well considering. He hasn´t made any signs yet of waking, but the doctor is due any minute for his rounds. Why don’t you sit with Neal?”
“Thanks.”
Doctor Sturm enters the room within the hour. He is a bit surprised to see Peter, but Peter explains he went home and has just arrived back. The doctor asks Peter to step out for a moment while he examines Neal. The nurse tells Peter to get a cup of coffee while he is at it.
Ten minutes later, the doctor comes out and gestures to Peter to come in again.
“Neal is doing well, his vitals are strong and his wounds are healing as expected. We are going to decrease his pain medication and that should get him more alert.”
“Will he be in pain?”
“I will make him as comfortable as possible, but I would like to see him getting more alert. Once he is awake, we can manage his pain better. For now our priority lies in getting him conscious.”
“Maybe you can talk to him, as we ween him off the sedatives, he will become more aware and he will be able to hear you, even if he still seems out.”
The doctor leaves with instructions for the nurse and Peter takes his space again next to Neal.

* * *

Somewhere during the evening a male nurse slips in the room. Peter startles awake. He must have fallen asleep, but recognizes the person immediately.
“Good evening Mozzie.”
“What are you doing here suit?”
“Neal has been weened of the pain killers and I want to make sure someone is here when he wakes up.”
“Well, I am here now, so if you want you can go back to Elizabeth. I will watch our boy.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, now go. I will take care of him, if he wakes, I will call.”
“OK, thanks.”

* * *
The next morning Peter is back at the ICU and he finds Neal alone in the room. He walks back out and calls the nurse.
“Was there a male nurse here with Neal?”
“Neal´s friend? He just left.”
“He introduced himself?” Peter shakes his head.
“No, but we notice immediately when someone isn´t staff… This is the ICU, we guard our patients. We saw you two talk, so we assumed it was OK, but once you left, we checked with him, but he said they were the closed to family they both had. He sounded sincere.”
“No, it´s fine.” Peter assures her “He is just not that much of a people person.”
“Well, he seemed genuinely concerned about Neal.”
“He is.”
“How is Neal doing?
Peter and the nurse walk back in while she explains that not much changed during the night, when suddenly the machinery starts picking up in sound.
“No worries, Neal is becoming more aware and when his blood pressure increases or his heart rate, the machines pick up on it.
Peter touches Neal´s arm to ground Neal.
“Neal? Can you hear me?”
Peter can see that Neal seems to hear him on some level, because he stirs a bit.
“Everything is OK. You are going to be OK. Rest Neal, we are here.”
Neal relaxes again and Peter sits down still holding Neal´s arm. Over the next hours Neal is obviously fighting to wake, Peter can almost see the internal struggle. Neal´s eyes open and close, he is never aware for very long. Peter encourages him and as the day moves on into evening, Mozzie is back. It is almost midnight when Neal starts moaning and both men startle awake. He must be in considerate pain to warrant such reaction from his still not lucid state. They still have him on pain medication.
“Neal, the suit and I are here. We are calling a nurse, hang on.”
Peter pushes the call button and immediately walks out of the room to go find someone. Mozzie can hear that he must have found a nurse, almost immediately, because she enters and starts checking Neal´s vitals.
“Hi Neal, you are doing good. Can you wake up a bit more for me?” She rubs his cheek as not to disturb his shoulders.
Peter can see Neal´s eyelids flutter and the nurse turns off the overhead light so it will be easier for Neal to open his eyes. When he finally does, his face contracts in pain.
“It is OK, sweetie, I am going to give you something for the pain.”
“Rest, Neal, it is OK, we are here, you are safe.” Peter tries to reassure Neal. He can see that Neal is listening to his voice.
“Neal, how is the pain?” the nurse asks, but Neal is already slipping away again.
“Why is he in so much pain?” Peter asks the nurse in a tone that makes Mozzie raise his eyebrows.
“We want him to wake up, that won’t happen when we administer too much pain killers, you saw for yourself what happens if I up his medicine.”
“Sorry, I … I just hate to see him in pain.”
“I understand, nobody likes a loved one in pain. But he is doing well.”

* * *

Peter and Mozzie stay at Neal´s bedside. Neal wakes again in the early hours of the next day and this time, the pain is evident, but it is also clear hat Neal does his best to become more aware.
“Mz?”
“Yes Neal, I am here.”
“hrts.”
“I know, Peter called the nurse.”
“Good.” Neal does his best to open his eyes. The lights are dimmed and it is still dark outside, so this time, it is more comfortable for Neal.
“Welcome back, Neal.”
Neal startles at Peter´s voice.
“Who?...” Neal croaked.
Neal´s heart rate and blood pressure spike.
“It is OK, Neal, it´s me, Peter.”
“P’ter?... Who?...” Neal asks hesitantly.
From his position in the bed, Neal can´t see who is standing next to him. Peter takes the chair and sits down next to the head of the bed and even bends so Neal can see him better.
“Good to have you back Neal. You gave us quite a scare there.” Peter smiles.
A frown appears on Neal´s face.
“What is the matter, Neal? Are you not feeling well?”
“Who are you?”
“Neal, come on now, you are giving me a scare here. It´s me, Peter.”
“Neal, you don´t remember the suit?” Mozzie joins Peter next to the bed.
“Wait, give me a second.” Neal says unsure.
“It´s OK, Neal. Take your time, you’ve been through a lot.”
“You remember Peter, don’t you?
Peter is surprised when Mozzie uses his name, but doesn´t mention it, he is too worried about Neal´s reaction. Does he have memory loss? No, because he remembers Mozzie.
It is that moment the doctor and nurse entered the room. Peter can hear Neal´s heart monitor pick up in speed.
“Good to see you are back among us mister Caffrey. My name is doctor Cuadrado. I will have a quick check of our vitals and then I will leave you to it. The nurse wets Neal´s lips and hilds out a cup with a straw so Neal can drink while laying on his stomach, which he does gratefully.
“Slowly, you don´t want to get sick.” She warns him.
“Can you turn me?”
“No, I am afraid that is not yet possible, first rest some more, later today, we can see if you can sit up.”
“What happened?”
“We don´t know. You were seriously injured, but we don´t know what happened to you. We hoped you could tell us.”
Everybody in the room can see Neal searching in his memory, but there is just a blank stare.
“I… I don´t know.”
“What is the last think you can remember?”
Again the frown.
“A painting… A painting got stolen.”
Peter smiles. That is correct. They were working a case where a painting was stolen from the Met.
“Where was it stolen, Neal?”
“The Met.”
“That is correct. Anything else?”
“I went undercover.” He grits.
Neal is in serious pain, so much is obvious for everybody in the room. He keeps his jaw stiff and his hands start trembling.
“That is correct, can you remember what happened?”
“No, I was undercover and meeting with this fence. I can´t remember what happened after the deal.”
“You were taken. One moment you were there, the next you weren´t. We have been searching until I got a call three days ago by NYWD that you were found.”
“I cn’t rmber.” Neal slurs.
Peter looks up and the nurse who finishes injecting something in Neal´s IV line. “Rest” she mouths to Peter.
“Neal, it´s OK, why don’t you sleep and we will talk when you wake up.”

* * *

Around noon lunch is brought in, it is a protein shake that Neal can drink with a straw while lying on his stomach. Mozzie has left them for the day. Peter is surprised he stayed this long.
Suddenly Neal gasps.
“I remember you.”
“Oh thank goodness.” The relief in Peter’s voice is noticeable.
“You are Elizabeth Burke´s husband.”
Peter´s face falls. Neal picks up on his expression.
“What´s wrong?”
“Nothing, you are right, I am Elizabeth´s husband.” He whispers.
“You mean more to me than being Elizabeth´s husband.” It isn´t a question. Leave it to Neal to pick up on the subtleties.
“Yes, I would like to believe so.”
Peter can see that lunch has taken much of Neal´s strength.
“Why don´t you rest for a bit? We will talk later.”
“You are an FBI-agent.” Again it isn´t a question, but a statement.
“Yes, I am.”
“If I was undercover, were you with me?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Why don´t I remember you if we worked together?”
“I don´t know. I really don´t know. But we will find out. It will be OK.” Peter mutters.
“Tell me about that day.”
Peter starts telling what happened that faithful day and within a couple of minutes Neal is sleeping. Peter lets out a sigh.

* * *

Neal gets discharged from the hospital once the wounds are healing and he is stronger. His shoulder blades ache fiercely and he isn´t himself, but he can´t explain what is wrong or why he is feeling the way he is.
Mozzie and June take care of his wounds, they re-bandage them after Neal showers and apply ointments to minimize scarring.
El, Peter, Mozzie and June take care of the comfort food and his fridge is never empty. Which is good because he is not in the right mind space to take care of himself. It is nice though to be taken care of for a change.
He can remember everything up to the incident except Peter. For some reason Neal feels like Peter is there in his memories but just out of reach. It is an alien feeling and he tries to remember more. Peter is important to him, he knows it in his heart, but his memory has him catalogued as just another co-worker or acquaintance. Neal can see that it hurts Peter and that saddens him. They will need to talk about this.
Mozzie enters Neal´s loft at June´s and pours himself a glass of wine. Neal is painting, he is only wearing jeans. His shoulders still hurt and he doesn´t cover them if he doesn´t have to. Mozzie studies Neal while he paints.
“You know Neal, have you ever studied your wounds?”
“No Moz, it is a bit hard to look at when they are on your back, even with a mirror.” Neal turns to look at Mozzie. “Why?”
“To me, they look like the wounds you would get when you cut of wings… or something.” Mozzie musses while swirling his wine in his glass. “They say that if you cut the wings of an angel, you cut away a piece of his soul, it…”
Neal grins without turning back to Mozzie.
“Really? Moz? Wings…I have been called a lot of things in my life. But an angel?…”