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Neal wasn't sure exactly how long he'd been standing in the shower, long enough that the water wasn't hot any more, not that he could really feel the temperature. He just felt numb, like his skin was too tight, he'd watched as his hands went from red to white, the water washing the day away. Leaving no physical trace behind, just the memories.
He half wished he could disappear, to not be seen ever again, he hated what he'd become in the last few days. The things he'd seen, he'd done, he felt like he should be behind bars and not in some nicely furnished apartment. But then again what had he truly expected, working with criminals.
Neal knew he wasn't innocent by no stretch of the imagination, he'd broken more laws than he had alias for. He'd broken out of and even into prison (many, many years ago. An exploit that hadn't been made public, thankfully). He'd taken more money than the average person made in a year and he had always told himself that he was better, smarter than the average thief, well he had thought he was.
But what made him so different to those people the FBI had just locked up? He was only allowed to leave because he was Peter's CI, nothing else. He could still see Peter staring at him as the EMTs had led him away to be checked over. That look, he was never going to be able to face Peter again. He really wanted to disappear now, to run and not stop until he could remember who he was meant to be.
Of all the people he had been, this last one actually made him look at himself, made him realise what he was, a criminal. Nothing but a low life felon that didn't deserve any of the chances he'd been given. You're a felon, Caffery, you need to be locked up, just like every other criminal out there. The voice sounded suspiciously like Keller's, almost taunting him, but he couldn't ignore it. It was right.
Getting out of the now freezing shower Neal dressed quickly, before heading to Peter's house. He could have run, packed up everything, cut the anklet and vanish. But he wasn't going to put anyone else in danger because of him. It took him less time than he thought to reach the Burke's residence, that was fine, it meant less time on the streets.
Knocking loudly on the door, he barely noticed that there were no lights on, not until Peter answered the door in sleep attire. Maybe he should have cut the tracker and run, instead of disturbing Peter at far-too-early-in-the-morning.
“Neal? What are you doing here?” Peter asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“You need to arrest me,” Neal was surprised at how scratchy his voice sounded.
He wasn't expecting to be pulled inside the house, all he had hoped for was the handcuffs to go on and to be led away. Peter was being nice to him and he couldn't stand it, it made his skin crawl, no one should be being nice to him.
“I've done that once already,” replied Peter trying for levity, as he shut the door.
“Then do it again,” insisted Neal, he needed Peter to understand this. He had to be locked up.
Neal ran a hand through his hair, he caught Peter staring at him again, just like earlier, only this time it seemed worse somehow. He began to wish he had run. He started to pace, feeling a bit like he was trapped, like he wasn't allowed to hide away any more. He wanted, no he needed Peter to understand.
“Neal what's going on?” repeated Peter, he knew he shouldn't have left Neal on his own. He'd known something was wrong earlier, but he hadn't pushed, he'd wanted Neal to open up on his own. Clearly that was the wrong thing to do, he should have pushed, gotten Neal to talk earlier, then maybe he wouldn't be seeing this meltdown now.
Neal turned to look at Peter before snapping, “No one can ever see what's right in front of their faces.”
Neal turned back towards the door intending to leave, if Peter didn't want to see it then he'd find someone else who would. Except he only got two steps forward before Peter was in front of him, blocking his path.
“Just where do you think your going Neal?”
“Leaving,” Neal replied.
“Not until you explain why you think I should arrest you.” Peter said, he wanted to help the younger man, but knew if he didn't handle this just right Neal would be gone. He wouldn't be able to find him. “Talk to me, what's going on?”
Neal wanted to talk, to tell Peter everything, to shout that he was no better than them people. That he was a criminal dammit and why couldn't Peter just arrest him already? He didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to start feeling something again, he wanted it over with.
“Neal?” prompted Peter.
Shaking his head Neal made to move around Peter again, but Peter grabbed his arm again, actually stopping him. The shock that he wasn't allowed to leave, that he had to face this right now, was like someone pouring cold water over him. Something must have shown on his face as Peter pulled him over to the sofa and made him sit down. The closeness, the fact that someone was being nice to him was his undoing. The numbness was fading, leaving behind a hollowness that he hadn't felt since Kate's death.
Once he was sat down, Neal finally said, “Am no different then them.”
“What? Of course you are,” replied Peter, he didn't need to ask who Neal meant, he already knew. “No one ever died when you were on the job, you never killed anyone, that's a good thing in my book.”
“But what I did...” Neal trailed off, looked at his hands for a moment before looking up at Peter. “Am I a good person?”
Neal wasn't sure he could distinguish what good was any more, the tracker on his ankle said no, but the people he helped said yes. It was the one thing he struggled with nearly every day, was he a good person? Everything was mashed together in his head, good, bad, how was he meant to tell? He had days where he did nothing but think of the next con, that made him a bad person. Then there were days he thought of all the good things he had done, that made him a good person. There was no middle ground for him.
“Yes, there no two ways about that Neal. You are redeemable,” replied Peter, “You aren't your con,”
“But -”
“No buts, Neal, you're a good man. What happened the last few days does not take away from that,” explained Peter, a dead certainty to his voice. “You saved that young girl Neal, she wouldn't have made it through with you. So yes you are a good person.”
Neal just nodded, he had forgotten he'd saved her, it had been her blood he'd washed off his hands earlier, her face he'd blocked out. Words did actually fail him at Peter's reply, Peter had never lied to him, but he could still feel the lingering doubts. The questions that he didn't think would be answered or that he even wanted an answer to really. He was pulled into a brief hug, as though Peter could tell that he wasn't completely right. Something inside was screaming at him to accept this, to trust that what Peter said was true. That he was a good person, maybe he'd just been playing at being a criminal. That he would eventually be as good as Peter was, one day.