Fic: I Will Be Here

[ricksilsa.livejournal.com]

Title: I Will Be Here

Author: ricksilsa

Rating: PG

Genre/Pairing: Pre-Neal/Peter or Pre-OT3

Spoilers: 4X08 Ancient History

Warnings: None

Summary:  Takes place during 4X8 Ancient History. Peter's POV of the time Neal spent in jail.

A/N:White Collar 'Last Author Standing Challenge'. Our first prompt was 'watching' and it could only be 100 words. This fic was my first attempt, and there was no way I could cut it down to 100 words. Voting for this round is due at midnight tonight, so I'm, posting Peter's POV now, El's POV (which is the 100 word fic I submitted) tomorrow, and then Neal's POV later in the week. Special thanks to wistfulwatcher for the beta job!

Helpless. That's how he felt... again.

Peter was unable to look away from Neal's distraught face as the NYPD officer drove his CI to be booked at the station. It was the same way Neal had looked at him nearly six months ago when Peter had given him the signal to run from Kramer.

It wasn't right then and it wasn't right this time either.

Granted, the situation had been a bit more desperate the first time. This time, Neal would most likely just have to spend a few hours in jail. Being detained for a night wasn't the same as going back to prison, but even so...

This time, Neal had just been doing his job; doing what Peter had asked him to. Why was it that the nearly perfect justice system that Peter passionately believed in, only seemed to let him down when Neal was involved?

Peter got in his car and followed the police cruiser, only getting delayed a few moments by the barrage of traffic. It took great effort to not yell at the less-than-helpful officer at the front desk who refused to tell him much of anything.

"I'm sorry, Agent Burke, but Mr. Caffrey cannot be released until his ten-thousand-dollar bail is paid."

Peter had already talked to Hughes and things were in motion, but it would still be a few hours before Neal would be released.

"Can I at least talk to him?" He demanded, unable to keep the slight sound of desperation out of his voice.

"No Sir. Mr. Caffery is not allowed visitors."

It was like a punch to the gut.

"But he didn't do anything wrong! Please, he was just acting on my orders. He doesn't deserve this," Peter practically begged.

The officer just stared at him, silently.

"Please. He's my best friend. If I had the money, I'd pay it. I can't leave him alone," Peter had to clear his throat and turn his face away at the unexpected sting of tears that threatened to fall.

The front desk officer sighed. "I'm sorry Agent Burke. I don't have the authority to let you into the holding cell."

Peter turned back to face him and nodded, but couldn't speak. He made to walk away, but then turned back when the office cleared his throat.

The man looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to their conversation, then gestured for Peter to come closer.

"You didn't hear this from me, Agent Burke, but if you stand next to that wall over there, and speak clearly, he will be able to hear you."

Peter smiled at the man, and moved toward the wall he'd indicated.

He laid his palm flat on the surface and then hesitated. He was already starting to attract a small amount of attention. He couldn't just stand there and talk...

As they most often did, his thoughts turned to Elizabeth, and he was already reaching for his cell phone before the plan formulated in his mind.

It did not take long to explain the situation to El, and she seemed to know before he did what had to be done.

"Just keep talking, Peter. Tell me again about your first case with Neal..."

With very little explanation, Elizabeth had understood perfectly what Peter needed from her. And for four hours he regaled her with tales that she already knew by heart about his adventures with Neal Caffrey. The tightness in his chest loosened, and though he couldn't explain it, he knew that Neal could hear him. Peter kept his voice as strong and loud as he could, having to stop several times to cough.

The cell beeped indicating that his battery was running low.

"El, I don't know how much longer I can talk before the battery in my cell dies," he told her, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.

"It's okay, Peter. Even if your phone goes out, just keep talking. I'm not the one who needs to hear you right now anyway."

So he kept talking, through two more 'low battery' beeps, until he suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was the front desk officer.

"Mr. Caffery is being released. You can meet him at the bottom of the stairs down this hall."

"El, I have to go. Neal is being released," Peter rasped, unable to keep the grin off of his face.

"Ok, hon. I love you! Oh, and make sure you bring Neal home for dinner. I need to see that both of you are okay tonight," she insisted.

Still grinning, Peter nodded then remembered that she couldn't see him.

"We might be late, but we'll be there. I love you, El."

He hung up and stuck the phone in his pocket.

The officer handed him a cough drop and pointed toward the direction of the stairwell.

Peter thanked the man, and tried not to run. He needed to see Neal.

As the younger man bounded down the stairs like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, Peter began to wonder if Neal had been able hear him... if Neal had even needed to hear him.

But then he met those bright blue eyes that were filled with relief and gratitude. He knew that Neal had not only heard, but savored every word.

Peter stuck his hands into his pockets and tried to focus on the heat coming from the over-used cell. As much as he wanted to hug Neal, he knew that this was not the time or place. They had a job to do.

When the work was done, he would drag Neal home and relax, content to just watch over him once more.

End