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Title: Neal
Rating: G
Characters: Neal, everyone
Warnings: Spoilers for Judgment Day
Summary: When Neal is little, he has big dreams. Tag to Judgment Day.
Neal
When Neal is little, he has big dreams. He wants to be a policeman. He wants to catch bad guys and put them where they can't hurt people. He wants to wear a badge and carry a gun and ride around in a police car with the sirens wailing. He wants to do what's right and help, and he wants to be a hero, just like his dad.
At eighteen, Neal's world crumbles around him. It's a thin, hazy process, like his mind is being coated in rotting milk. Anger follows it running both hot and cold, and fear rides its tail because now he doesn't know what to do. It's like that story where that guy wakes up to find that he's been turned into a bug. Neal wakes up and finds that he's a blank canvas, not a portrait in the making, and he doesn't know what to paint. So he starts small with a promise to himself, that he will never let his life fall apart ever again. Life will be certain, and safe, and stable, and he will never have to worry or be afraid. No matter what it takes.
The majority of Neal's life in his twenties is spent traveling, going to new places, seeing new sights, tasting new foods, testing his skills and discovering a whole new set of skills. Each day is an adventure of his own making. He is like a bird born in the sky. He will travel forever, and when he finds Kate and they are together again, they will take to that sky and never touch the ground.
Neal is, at first, jealous of Peter, but he will never admit it. Peter gets him out of prison as a CI, like Neal had hoped, but Peter is the man who caught him, and he's the man who has everything Neal has ever wanted. Love, a stable home, a stable life, freedom. Neal likes Peter, respects him, he does, but an anklet isn't getting his wings back, it's just a pretty little aviary two miles long. A step toward real freedom as soon as he finds Kate. And when he does find her, he will be airborne, and not even Peter Burke will be able to clip his wings.
Kate is gone, and Neal can see only red. The blood of the man who killed her spilling on the ground. But then it's Mozzie's blood, and Neal sees only fog. He doesn't know what to do, where to go. He feels himself beginning to erase, the portrait morphing into empty canvas, his life crumbling like old paint. He has no problems giving up control because he doesn't want to crumble. He doesn't want to wake up blank. But he doesn't, because there's Sara and Diana, Jones and Elizabeth, June and Mozzie, and Peter. They focus him, and guide him, and the pieces of himself hold together.
Neal doesn't know what he wants. To go or to stay. To cut ties or hold onto them with everything he's got.
No. That's not true. He knows what he wants. He wants to hear more of Peter's stake-out stories. To sip wine in the comfort of his loft and listen to Mozzie quote and theorize. To enjoy some of June's homemade cookies as they all watch Tiles of Fire together for the umpteenth time. He wants dinner at the Burke's, to cook delicious soups for Sara, to tease Diana and chuckle at the way she pretends to threaten him even while she's grinning from ear to ear, to shoot the breeze with Jones. He wants to come into the office each day, to catch bad guys, to help people and be a hero, just like Peter.
At thirty-four, Neal flies away. He gets on a plane to go anywhere he wants, with a treasure to support him and the entire world to call home. He spreads his wings. He is a bird. He is a canvas waiting to be a portrait. He is wild and free and without limits. He can have anything he wants. As he looks out the window with a smile on his face, what he wants is to go home.
Rating: G
Characters: Neal, everyone
Warnings: Spoilers for Judgment Day
Summary: When Neal is little, he has big dreams. Tag to Judgment Day.
When Neal is little, he has big dreams. He wants to be a policeman. He wants to catch bad guys and put them where they can't hurt people. He wants to wear a badge and carry a gun and ride around in a police car with the sirens wailing. He wants to do what's right and help, and he wants to be a hero, just like his dad.
At eighteen, Neal's world crumbles around him. It's a thin, hazy process, like his mind is being coated in rotting milk. Anger follows it running both hot and cold, and fear rides its tail because now he doesn't know what to do. It's like that story where that guy wakes up to find that he's been turned into a bug. Neal wakes up and finds that he's a blank canvas, not a portrait in the making, and he doesn't know what to paint. So he starts small with a promise to himself, that he will never let his life fall apart ever again. Life will be certain, and safe, and stable, and he will never have to worry or be afraid. No matter what it takes.
The majority of Neal's life in his twenties is spent traveling, going to new places, seeing new sights, tasting new foods, testing his skills and discovering a whole new set of skills. Each day is an adventure of his own making. He is like a bird born in the sky. He will travel forever, and when he finds Kate and they are together again, they will take to that sky and never touch the ground.
Neal is, at first, jealous of Peter, but he will never admit it. Peter gets him out of prison as a CI, like Neal had hoped, but Peter is the man who caught him, and he's the man who has everything Neal has ever wanted. Love, a stable home, a stable life, freedom. Neal likes Peter, respects him, he does, but an anklet isn't getting his wings back, it's just a pretty little aviary two miles long. A step toward real freedom as soon as he finds Kate. And when he does find her, he will be airborne, and not even Peter Burke will be able to clip his wings.
Kate is gone, and Neal can see only red. The blood of the man who killed her spilling on the ground. But then it's Mozzie's blood, and Neal sees only fog. He doesn't know what to do, where to go. He feels himself beginning to erase, the portrait morphing into empty canvas, his life crumbling like old paint. He has no problems giving up control because he doesn't want to crumble. He doesn't want to wake up blank. But he doesn't, because there's Sara and Diana, Jones and Elizabeth, June and Mozzie, and Peter. They focus him, and guide him, and the pieces of himself hold together.
Neal doesn't know what he wants. To go or to stay. To cut ties or hold onto them with everything he's got.
No. That's not true. He knows what he wants. He wants to hear more of Peter's stake-out stories. To sip wine in the comfort of his loft and listen to Mozzie quote and theorize. To enjoy some of June's homemade cookies as they all watch Tiles of Fire together for the umpteenth time. He wants dinner at the Burke's, to cook delicious soups for Sara, to tease Diana and chuckle at the way she pretends to threaten him even while she's grinning from ear to ear, to shoot the breeze with Jones. He wants to come into the office each day, to catch bad guys, to help people and be a hero, just like Peter.
At thirty-four, Neal flies away. He gets on a plane to go anywhere he wants, with a treasure to support him and the entire world to call home. He spreads his wings. He is a bird. He is a canvas waiting to be a portrait. He is wild and free and without limits. He can have anything he wants. As he looks out the window with a smile on his face, what he wants is to go home.
