Title: Vital Lies

Author: Lady Black-Malfoy

Rating: T

Summary: Takes place during episode 1x10 Vital Signs of White Collar, and after 2x22 Chuck Versus the Ring of Chuck. What if Neal had spoken about something else while he was drugged? Just who is Neal Caffrey? And who is this Chuck person? Neal's secret could be put in jeopardy, and if that happens...

AN: Hello everyone! So this is my first White Collar/Chuck fanfiction and I'm pretty excited to post it. I've had the idea since Vital Signs aired, and since Chuck was just picked up for a fourth season I thought I'd celebrate. I have one more chapter of this planned and I'll try and get it done as soon as I can, but I might just wait till the White Collar episodes rerun again in July. Anyway, this will lead into another story crossover I have planned for over the summer called White Lies. I have the first chapter and plot outline of it done even, but since I have three other stories going I think I'll wait to post it. If you would like to see it that bad though I can send it to anyone who asks. :D Hope you like it!

Chapter One

"I've done so many worse things, you don't even know about!" Neal Caffrey slurred as he was still delirious from the drug cocktail that nurse had injected him with. He looked up with unfocused eyes at the man who had just deposited him onto the floor of the clinic's conference room. FBI Agent Peter Burke glanced down at the usually composed man and suppressed a sigh. In normal circumstances, he might have laughed at how the normally composed Neal was acting. Now; however, he was just upset that the con man didn't listen to him. Said man had started humming again.

Annoyed Peter barked down at Neal, "Shut up!"

The man obliged but what Neal had said made Peter curious. Being a con man meant Neal didn't trust many people, if any. Now that he was drugged off his ass, Peter thought he seemed to be a little more loosely lipped. Maybe he'd be able to get Neal to spill why the kid felt had felt the need to go off on his own and these 'worse things' that Neal had apparently done.

So Peter asked, as he bent back closer to the man, "Like what?" Neal smiled blindingly in reply but the hazy look in his eyes showed just how out of it he really was. He was able to focus on Peter though, and still grinning Neal leant closer so the agent would be able to hear his reply.

"I lied to you Peter. Lied to everyone," Neal whispered and rolled his head closer to Peter. "Cause my name isn't Neal. Course it's not." He said this like it was stupid of Peter to assume Neal was his real name.

As an FBI agent, Peter had seen people drugged before but he'd never expected to see Neal like this. To be honest, he hadn't been expecting anything like the situation they were currently in. Since his wife Elizabeth had given him that fax and he realized that Neal was in trouble, thousands of horrible scenarios careened across his mind. From Neal getting shot to Neal's broken and bruised body showing up in an alley somewhere, during the whole drive over to the clinic he was extremely tense not to mention frightened for the con man.

The last feeling puzzled him, though. Peter wondered when Neal had become more than just a felon to him. Maybe it was when Neal had given him that air supply in the comic book vault of death or it could have been after that, when the man said he trusted Peter. Either way, something between the two had changed. Now he didn't see a hopeless case, he saw a rather vulnerable man hidden behind masks and, for some reason, Peter felt compelled to try and help him. Still he felt torn. If what Neal had just said was true about his name, what else was the man hiding?

With so many thoughts running through his head, Peter leaned back on his heels and ran a hand over his face. For however much he liked the kid, sometimes it just felt like too much. Peter was snapped out of his internal debate when Neal suddenly broke into a song again, this time singing "That's not my name, that's not my name, they call me- " Panic flashed across Peter's face and he hurried to shut the con man up by slapping a hand over Neal's open mouth.

With the hand that was on Neal's face now, Peter turned Neal's head so that he was looking into hazy silver blue eyes again. "Hey, shhhh. We don't want them to find us in here remember?" Neal's eyes lit up in remembrance and he nodded vigorously so Peter removed his hand. Realizing that perhaps now was not really the time to be analyzing his feelings for Neal, he let it drop. El would have probably thought it cute though, he thought with a grimace that turned into a quick glance at the door as footsteps could be heard walking down the hall.

Peter threw a hand over Neal's mouth again to keep him quiet, and he tensed up placing a hand on his gun. Not that he would really use it, but it made him more comfortable. A relived whoosh of air escaped him once the footsteps retreated; though, it had been way to close for comfort.

Somehow, he would have to get the loopy con man downstairs without anyone being any the wiser. Unfortunately, none of his FBI training had been about 'How to get a drugged singing con man past a high tech security system.'. He'd have to wing it and hope for the best.

Neal had leaned back against the wall then continued from before, "But I've done something even worse than that," Neal murmured softly. Peter leant back still contemplating what Neal had said before and then he narrowed his eyes. Like earlier, the idea that he had been lied too bothered him; however, he figured that it was probably the drugs talking and sighing in exasperation he got up out of the crouched position he was previously in. Quicker than he expected, a surprisingly firm grip dragged Peter back down to Neal's level.

Neal looked at him oddly, almost with a feverish intensity and continued lowly, "There's more to it than that Peter. I ruined Chucks life! I promised to keep him safe. I lied to get him kicked out of Stanford. It all worked but he hated me for it. Then there was Sarah." Neal let go of Peter's arm, and gazed off miserably as if caught in painful memories. Peter just watched curiously. He'd never heard of this Sarah or Chuck being mentioned by Neal before and Peter knew almost as much about the man as Neal himself did.

Neal mumbled on, seemingly lost in old memories. "I loved Sarah but good old Chuck got to her. Chuck and his Chucks!" A slightly hysterical laugh escaped him without warning and Peter shot a startled look at the man on the floor. Suddenly Neal glanced up and the expression on his face was so serious that for a moment Peter wondered what happened to the hopped up Neal.

"Then, I got shot again. Not Casey this time, though, don't worry Peter," he reassured. Neal grabbed Peter's arm again to pull him closer as if Peter knew who this Casey person was. "It was the worst thing I'd ever done, watching Chuck and Sarah in that room, so I left." Neal kept on talking and even though Peter had no clue what to make of the seemingly mindless babble. He did listen, though, albeit sparing a moment to check his watch again.

"General Beckman said it would be for 'the best'," the con man said as he clumsily tried to make air quotations. Failing miserably though, he put his arms back down. "Don't have any more friends though. No more friends that sing together…."

"Neal focus! I don't know what the hell you're mumbling about but that doesn't matter now. Do you understand that you'll go back to jail for this?" Peter asked seriously from his kneeling position on the floor. Staring into the unfocused eyes of the man, as if to try and get the point across that way, the FBI agent realized that just like his thoughts on Neal, now was not really a great time to think about it. Time was running out and they had a tough escape ahead, considering that they still had to get past the numerous guards and cameras situated throughout the upscale clinic.

"Words taste like pineapples!" was the only reply to Peter's question from the con man seated on the floor.


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