Chapter Text
Neal could feel a headache forming, it always started at the base of his neck and worked its way up to his temple; it was mainly at first a heaviness over his eyes. Like he didn’t get enough sleep last night, he would blink repeatedly; trying to rid his head of the fogginess, his blue eyes darting around the room until he found something that he could use as a distraction.
Which he found, on Jones desk, a water bottle - fresh from the fridge. Condensation was forming around the plastic, creating small drops of water. Neal’s eyes traveled the droplets, following a particular one that continued to run down the side and join with the others until they formed a bigger puddle on the table underneath.
It was working, as long as he continued to distract himself from the pain – he would be ok.
However, when was his life so easy. His view was constricted when a body walked in between him; moaning at the interruption he glanced up at the intrusion and found Peter glancing down at him. His face was etched with his normal frown, but his eyes held a hidden concern.
“I’ve been calling you for the past 2 minutes?”
Blinking, he grunted again, feeling the pulsating vein on his forehead and tried but failing on giving his handler a Caffrey smile.
“Sorry…did you need something from me?”
Peter’s frowned deepened, but with a gruff exhale he glanced towards the clock on the wall and then doubled checked with his watch on his wrist, “No, I think we can call it a day. Diana, Jones you can head out too if you like. We’ll reconvene tomorrow in the morning” he called out to his team.
Diana sighed in relief as she leaned back in her chair, her brown hair tousled and disheveled; they spent the last 12 hours or so decoding some sort of decipher that would give them entail on a rather large heist of artifacts that were being shipped from Beijing next week. The email was almost 12 pages long of some code, and they were no where near cracking it.
Hence, the now forming migraine Neal was dealing with.
The con man didn’t need to be told twice, his hand went to turn of the computer and he grabbed for his fedora; still managing to place it on with style, sending Jones and Diana a wink as he let Peter direct him out.
“You know you are always invited for dinner; do you want to stop by?” Peter asked, he was growing rather concerned, Neal wasn’t one to be so quiet. Let alone almost fall asleep on the way to his apartment but there he was dozing off as he leaned against the window, “Are you sleeping alright?”
Neal grunted again; “Migraine” was the only word he received.
Peter blinked, “Do you always get migraines? And if so, how often?”
Neal turned his head towards the man with a half-hearted glare, not having the strength to do so fully; “Peter, people with migraines typically don’t talk,” he whispered, wincing as he laid his head back, “Tell El I love her, and her cooking but rain check. I just want to get home and sleep”
Peter wanted to argue but he had a few shares of his own headaches and knew, most of the time all you wanted was a dark cold room and a bed. So, he begrudgingly listened to the younger man and drove him home, helping him up to his apartment. He wasn’t surprised when he opened the door to find Moz seated on the table, looking up with worry when he noticed Neal state.
“Is he ok?” He asked startled as he stood.
Neal only let out a pained groaned as he gestured to his head, pulling away from Peter as he shoveled over this bed, plopping down without removing his clothing.
“Ah, migraine” the shorter man said with a grimace, “He’ll be alright suit, I’ll give him his medication and make sure he has enough fluids. I know the drill”
Peter only frown at that, “Does he get them often?”
Moz shrugged, “I’ve known him for a while and he’s always had episodes, they don’t last long but they can pack a punch”
“What causes them?” was asked as he made a mental note - a ball of guilt in his chest. Did he overwork the man?
Moz shrugged, “I’m not sure really,” at Peter’s troubled look he patted his shoulder, “He’ll be fine, back to normal tomorrow when you pick him up”
Peter shook his head, “Text me tonight if he still under, he can call off tomorrow to fully recover” he said firmly, “I mean it Neal, I want you in bed all day tonight and tomorrow, I’ll stop by to make sure?” He mockingly threatened.
The only response he received was a grunt, but at least it didn’t sound like a protest; they had come a long way the pair and so walking out of the room without a hug or a kiss to Neal’s forehead left Peter a bit frustrated. Neal knew how much Peter cared for him, and not knowing that the man he viewed as a son got regular migraines, bothered.
Moz closed the door behind the agent, and turned towards his ill friend.
“Do you still have those pills?” He asked.
This time Neal turned, sitting up and glanced at him with a wary look, “They finished, could you run to the pharmacy?” He groaned as he spoke, and Moz winced.
“Alright, stop talking. I’ll run over to CVS. Why don’t you take a hot shower and get into something comfortable” Neal gave him a rare but sincere smile as he got up and dragged himself over to the bathroom, Moz stood quiet; waiting for the water to turn on and then the sound difference of water hitting tile to water hitting a body then moved over to the wooden box Neal kept of his important papers.
Neal Caffrey hadn’t step foot in a clinic since forever so, for obvious reasons his migraine medications weren’t exactly legit. He had a stack of prescriptions pads and the name of a few corrupted doctors that wouldn’t flag any suspicious activity in order to protect what ever illegal shit they were actually partaking on. Some headache medication wouldn’t even make them blink, let out alone investigate.
So, Moz searched for the pads and as he lifted them up from the box; something caught his attention.
When did Neal complete a DNA match, and why was that needed.
He titled his head towards the shower, still hearing the water running and lifted the results from the box, his eyes scanning the letter until he got to the reason Neal requested his DNA to be matched. His eyes widened when he noticed the 99.99% Paternal match and the names beside them.
Neal Caffrey was undeniably the biological son of Peter and Elizabeth Burke.
Mozzie inhaled sharply and quickly placed the items away, grabbing for the medicine pad and swiftly writing out the medications and signing it on the bottom; then walked out of the apartment. Too many questions running through his head as he wondered. Had Neal knew before he accepted to be a CI for the white-collar division, or was it a revelation after.
None of those questions would be answered at the moment, but Mozzie was going to find out.
. . . .
Neal was known to pick up a sudden shift in people’s personalities, he was able to discern the differences; he had known Mozzie for the longest and knew the older man was holding something back.
“Would you stop with the foot?” Neal snapped, lowering his newspaper and sending him a glare, “Get on with it, you want to tell me something, say it?”
Moz stared at him and then let out a heavy sigh, “You remember the headache you had last week?”
Neal only gave him an exasperated nod as he took another sip of his orange juice.
“Remember when you needed me to go and grab the medication from the pharmacy?”
“Moz are you going to retell the entire day, because yes I remember”, Neal’s tone was getting frustrated, “Could you get to your point, Peter is going to be here soon” he motioned for him to continue as he glanced down to his watch.
At the mention of Peter, Moz let out a groan and Neal straightened his back, “It has something to do with Peter?”, at his friends silence Neal eyes tightened, “Moz, we don’t get Peter involved in any of our shit; you know that”, his tone was definite and Moz stared at him with a pensive look.
At the growing frustration in Neal’s face, he raised his hands defensively, “Its nothing like that Neal, of course not. I may or may have not seen a certain DNA match you completed” he muttered quickly.
The con man blinked, staring at him for a minute until Neal let out a defeated exhale, “I knew I should have shredded that” he grunted.
“So, its true…you are related to…”
“Shut up Mozzie” Neal growled, his eyes darting towards the door, “Remember last time” he hissed, Peter had stood behind the door for maybe 20 minutes or so to overhear a conversation and it resulted in something Neal was not pressed to ever repeat, let alone voice out loud that it ever occurred.
Moz eyes widened, “Right, but is it?”
“Yes, I forge fine art Moz; not that” he grunted.
“Are you going to tell them?”
Neal scoffed, “Not likely, its not something I planned it just sort of happened” he passed a hand through his hair, “Which, I’m sure it goes without saying that it stays between you and I, the next chance I get I’m burning those results” he stood from the table, taking his plates and all but throwing them into the sink with frustration.
“Neal, you love them” he said softly, “Why…”
“I’m a criminal” Neal muttered drily, “That is all I will ever be to them, the kindness they show is temporary”
Moz face saddened, “Neal…”
“Enough Moz, this is the exact reason why I didn’t tell you. You have a soft spot for family, as my friend I am begging you to let it go” he stared at Moz firmly, until the man nodded a frown still on his face.
His cell vibrated angrily on the table and Neal sighed partially in relief and also irritation; now he had to work with Peter with their sudden parentage at the forefront of his head and he knew it would be a long day. “I’ll be down in a minute” he answered, already seeing the confusion in Peter’s face at his short words and hung up before the man could even ask if he were ok.
“Not a word Moz, am I clear?”
“Yea, Neal, crystal” Moz nodded, looking nothing at all pleased.
Eying him briefly Neal grabbed for his jacket and then left the apartment. Peter never questioned him when he got into the car, just muttered a good morning as they pulled away which Neal grumbled back. They feel into a comfortable silence and Neal really appreciated that Peter could pick up on body language, not even bothering to start up a conversation as they drove.
It was be a mundane day at the office, just tedious paperwork; they had a few mortgage fraud cases that needed to be overlooked but nothing that required any field work. To say that Neal wanted to be anywhere but there was an understatement.
The truth of his parentage had been discovered, a year within his arrangement with Peter; he hadn’t even known that Peter and Elizabeth had a child if his eyes didn’t key onto a photo, it wasn’t hidden but it also wasn’t put on display and Neal had chucked it to the back of his head. Some sort of nephew or cousin probably, but the similarities of the little boy to Elizabeth was striking, same dark hair, same light eyes.
Almost similar to his own, but that was just an afterthought.
Whenever he came over, his eyes would wonder towards the photo, almost like it would get bigger and bigger until El noticed his eyes and let out a sad sigh.
“His name was Nathanial” she softly brought him back to the present, Neal snapped towards her; a look of guilty curiosity, “He was our son, is our son” she explained.
Neal swallowed, “I’m sorry…you don’t have to explain” he placed a hand over hers, just as Peter walked back in, a towel drying his damp hands.
“Everything ok here?” He asked, seeing the sudden closeness of his CI and his wife.
Neal had quickly spoke first, noticing the traces of pain and sorrow in Elizabeth’s eyes and did not want to see anything similar in Peters. Changing the topic before El could even mention the photo, his curiosity didn’t end there obviously, but he didn’t look at the photo again when he would visit, and never brought up Nathanial.
However, he did some digging.
The Burkes apparently had a child in 1987; a little boy named Nathanial Peter Burke, who had been abducted close to his 4th birthday. No trace, no lead; and the case had died down until it laid in a box collecting dust. It had been the sole reason Peter had been transferred to White Collar crime, he couldn’t handle the cases of abducted children and quite frankly had felt like a failure.
Ergo the lack of photos that lingered the house, Peter never forgave himself for not saving his son; for not finding his son.
Neal thought after reading the few case files on the initial investigation, his curiosity would leave. He knew a piece of Peter that quite frankly he wishes he hadn’t. It was personal, and most likely still very fresh in the man's heart even if two decades had passed. Nathanial would be 28 if Neal calculated correctly, ironically his age and part of Neal’s heart broke.
There were moments he’d catch Peter’s wondering gaze; an unreadable look in his eyes as he started him.
He had left it alone for a few weeks, but something gnawed at the back of his head, how close of an age he was with Nathanial, down to the year. It also didn’t help that he had no photos of himself before the age of 5, like they never existed. At first it was a long shot, there could be no way that he was the lost son of Peter Burke but, the more he thought of it, the more he couldn’t get over the idea.
With, very careful calculations he managed to get a sample of Elizabeth and Peter’s DNA, as well as his and sent it out to 5 different agencies; all in which told him the same answer; he was their son.
Neal George Caffrey was in fact, Nathanial Peter Bruke.
He had been angry of course, filled with so many frustrating questions. He read the articles, saw the interviews and god, they had been devastated year after year with no leads, no suspects. Nathanial had disappeared, without a trace.
He knew, without a shred of doubt he must have been adopted but, how?
If he had been placed in an orphanage by some sort of miracle, did he escape his abductors; was that the plan?
A coffee being put on his desk suddenly made Neal come back to the present, albeit startled as he straightened himself up and looked up at the hand still on the coffee, “You look like you could use a break?” Jones commented, “you’ve been staring at the screen, entirely zone out”
Neal let out a relieved sigh as he accepted the gesture, the coffee was terrible mind you, “Thanks.”
“No problem, want to tell me what’s on your mind Caffrey; you don’t seem like yourself?” The dark man asked, and Neal knew Peter well enough to know he sent Jones over.
Leaning back he lifted his leg over his knee and shrugged, “I was reminded of some information this morning, haven’t been able to shake it off”, it wasn’t an entire lie.
“Information, is it a con you maybe thinking of pulling?” Diana narrowed her eyes from her desk.
He scoffed, “Yes Di, I’m openly planning a heist as we speak”, she rolled her eyes, “It’s nothing, I’m sure it will pass.”
Jones only grunted as he patted the man's shoulder, “Do so please, Daddy Burke is going to pop a blood vessel if you worry him anymore” at the joking term Daddy, Neal couldn’t help but flinch openly and that definitely caught Diana’s attention.
“Something wrong with you and Peter?”
Jones turned back around, concern now on his face, “Neal?”
Looking for an escape he glanced at the time and jumped up, “I’m headed out for lunch, you both want something?”
“Where are you headed?” Fuck, Neal turned to see Peter walking towards them, “I’ll tag along.”
“Come on big guy, its not like I’m running, just going to grab a burrito from down the street” Neal gave his handler a wide grin and Peter didn’t budge, just motion for Neal to follow him.
As the elevator door closed, Peter turned his body towards him; this time either didn’t clue into Neal’s obvious body language or chose to ignore it as he crossed his arms, “What’s with you today, you’ve been distant”, something passed Peter’s face and Neal internally groaned at the pit in his stomach clenched, “Did I say something to piss you off, Neal come on, I thought we were working on open communication here. If I did something, you need to tell me”
“It’s not you,” Neal sighed, Peter frowned not believing him, “It’s not, Moz just sprung something on me this morning without warning and I haven’t had a chance to process it” he replied.
“Something I should know about?”
Neal shook his head, “No it nothing serious”
“I beg to defer, you’ve been abnormally quiet and haven’t complain once on the number of emails and paperwork I’ve sent your way”, Peter gave him a look, clearly saying try again.
Rubbing his face, Neal thought of the next best thing “I still have some things tucked away from Kate… he found them. I lied, told him that I burned all of her items, especially after her death. He wasn’t entirely pleased when he found them and confronted me about them this morning. We had a little roll with each other and well, queue my sour mood”
Peter face softened and Neal would if he could kiss himself for being able to fool the man, “Ah, well, I know you loved her, its not easy moving forward when you loose someone”, the tightness in his voice only made Neal grimace, of course it would still circle back to his son, to Neal.
“Yea, I don’t think grief is something that gets better overtime, we just, learn to live with it” Neal muttered.
Peter just nodded, his eyes a little far away and when Peter next spoke; Neal ignored the slight tremble to his voice.