When It Rains

And when it rains
On this side of town it touches everything
Just say it again and mean it
We don't miss a thing

You made yourself a bed
At the bottom of the blackest hole
And convinced yourself that it's not the reason
You don't see the sun anymore

It was rainy in the city of Manhattan. Peter Burke was almost finished with his fifth cup of coffee. He looked at his watch frantically. Where was Neal?

Earlier that day had been full of paperwork. Peter noticed Neal's shakes have improved slightly since he came back. However, he knew it was going to be some time before his friend acted his old self. After all, it had been only four months since Kate's death.

Peter wished that had been the case. Later that day, Peter had another 'park meeting' with Mozzie, despite the foul weather. When he had asked how Neal was doing, Mozzie told him that they were walking together, but then Neal said he needed to be alone and that he'd catch him later. Mozzie, being the kind of person he was, followed Neal until he noticed the conman stop at the city's graveyard.

It was a no-brainer he stopped by Kate's grave. They finished their meeting by talking about what they're going to do with him. Before Peter was able to return home that afternoon, he had gotten a call from Jones about Neal's anklet being cut.

Now, here he was at the graveyard with Jones and Manhattan's PD looking for evidence for almost two hours. Peter tossed out his empty cup and looked around for anything unusual. He closed his eyes Neal, you told you me didn't want to run anymore he thought. He reopened them and looked up at the gray, rainy sky. If you didn't want to run…

Then where did you go?

And oh, oh, how could you do it?
Oh I, I never saw it coming
Oh, oh, I need the ending
So why can't you stay just long enough to explain?

And when it rains
Will you always find an escape?
Just running away
From all of the ones who love you
From everything

"Peter."

Peter turned to Jones. "Anything?" He asked.

Jones shook his head. "There isn't anything here we can work off of. I'm sorry, Peter." He said, setting his hand on his shoulder as a console. "He's not here, but we can check under some of his aliases." He offered.

Peter knew that if he said yes to them checking his names, it would've meant that he didn't believe Neal when he told him that he had a life here. Peter shook his head. "No. There's something here, I know it." He said, looking through Jones and at the rest of the graveyard.

Jones looked down and sighed. He called out to the others to keep looking even though he knew it was wasted effort. Peter walked around the graveyard. He noticed how some of the PD sat around talking to one another, as if the search didn't matter. Though Neal was only a consultant, he was still a part of the FBI and that should make this search as important as any other. He knew they didn't care as much because he was an ex-felon.

Instead of wasting his time yelling at them, he continued on his own, personal investigation. Peter wandered around the cemetery until he stopped at Kate's grave. He noticed there were fresh flowers beside the headstone. There were a large number of red roses and a single black rose that stood out. Peter imagined Neal standing where he was with the bouquet of roses. "You and your bleeding heart." He said softly to himself thinking of the young man.

You made yourself a bed
At the bottom of the blackest hole
And you'll sleep 'til May and you'll say
That you don't want to see the sun anymore

And oh, oh, how could you do it?
Oh I, I never saw it coming
Oh, oh, I need the ending
So why can't you stay just long enough to explain?

Peter looked up from the gravestone and back at the scene before him. He noticed people beginning to leave. The gray outlook before his became even grayer. As Peter walked back, a tombstone caught his eye; Ray. F. Canfree

What a stupid name. Peter thought with a small sad smile on his face. Neal would've thought this was…His eyes widened in realization of Neal's whereabouts. "Jones! Get a team over here! And hurry!" Peter called, falling to his knees and listening for any movements underground.

It had been minutes before one of the teams heard him and uncovered the coffin. It was being lifted from the inside the ground and gently lowered onto the hard land around the large hole that was dug. Peter hurried to open the casket.

As soon as he opened the coffin, he was surprised, and jumped when the body sat straight up. His judgment was right. "Neal." He breathed out.

Take your time
Take my time

Take these chances to turn it around
(Take your time)
Just take these chances, we'll make it somehow
And take these chances to turn it around
(Take my)
Just turn it around

Neal was breathing heavily for air as he was guided out of the casket by one of the EMT's. He shook his head furiously when they asked him if he was seriously injured and needed to go to the hospital. Instead of going with the paramedics he sat down in front of a tombstone with his knees pulled up to his chest. Peter approached the young man and knelt beside him. Neal looked at him when he did. The kid was a mess. Neal's face was paler than Peter had ever seen, his hair a mess, and his eyes looked as if they had been bleeding.

Jones figured that he should give the two partners their space. "Okay everyone; we did good! Let's get going!" As they packed up and left; Neal and Peter could only stare, not caring if they were getting soaked to the bone. "Peter." He started.

"Neal, what happened?" he asked, checking him for any sign of injury. He found a large bruise along the younger man's jaw line and gingerly held it as to examine the extent of the injury.

Neal remained silent as he let him examine him, wincing a little when Peter ran his thumb along it. His eyes were down, someplace else. Peter tried again. "C'mon Neal, I need you to talk to me." Peter urged. There Neal sat before him, clad in his ruined attire he had gotten from June a long while ago. He was now turned to Peter, resting on his knees, his face expression matched perfectly with the one he wore the moment before Kate died. "Peter-"

Before he was able to finish, Neal found himself pulled into a tight embrace with the older man. Peter didn't care if it rained on them, he was glad to know that both his friend and partner was still with him, alive and safe. He couldn't hold it back any longer and sobbed onto his friend's shoulder.

Peter wasn't good with this sort of thing, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Neal, especially after nearly losing him.

And oh, how could you do it?
Oh I, I never saw it coming
Oh, oh, how could you do it?
Oh I, I never saw it coming

Oh, oh, how could you do it?
Oh I, I never saw it coming
Oh, oh I need an ending
So why can't you stay just long enough to explain?

"You stupid kid. How do you end up being buried alive?" He asked, his voice low enough to the point where Neal couldn't hear and as to hide the both the pain and relief in it. He wanted to cry too, but he knew he had to be strong for the young man.

After a while, Neal pulled himself together enough to the point where he could speak normally again, "I guess there's someone out there who doesn't like me." His voice, slightly shaking as he spoke. He chuckled weakly as to lighten up the mood.

That failed also. Peter pulled away from him and held him by the shoulders at arms length, staring him straight in the eye. "This isn't funny, Neal. You could still be in that coffin, sucking up your last breaths of air. If I hadn't uncovered you, but your body instead; do you know what that would do to people? To June? Mozzie? Elle and me?" He said, he wondered if Neal knew how close his voice was to breaking.

"I'm sorry." He apologized, his eyes hidden from Peter as he looked down.

Peter took a deep breath and squeezed his shoulder compassionately. Neal looked back up at Peter with his watery eyes. "C'mon, Elle's making dinner and I'm guessing you haven't eaten in a while." He suggested as they stood up and Neal wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

Neal shook his head. "That's all right, Peter, I-" as if on cue; his stomach growled, tired of being ignored. Peter and Neal looked at each other. The consultant stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned. "Well, maybe…" he said sardonically.

Peter stuck his hands in his pockets smirked to himself. Neal was back, safe and sound. The rain had even begun to lighten up a little. He looked over the city from the view the cemetery.

"Peter!"

Peter looked over at the sound of the young man's voice and saw him waiting by the passenger's side of his Taurus. Peter looked from Neal back to the city for one last moment before walking to the car. He got inside and started driving.

On the drive back to his house, Peter noticed Neal had been quiet for over five minutes and began to worry, since the conman always talked. He looked over at Neal to see he had fallen asleep. He'd never really noticed how Neal looked when he slept, despite all the occasions Peter caught him sleeping on the job. He realized that he looked as if he were still a kid when he slept. The FBI agent smiled to himself tiredly and returned his eyes to the road.

You can take your time
Take my time…

End

Thanks for reading! please R&R whatever that means, forgot to mention, don't own ANYTHING but my own laptop