Author's Note: Hello all! This takes place... oh, I don't know... 2nd season... somewhere between when Kate blew up and Neal pulled a gun on Fowler. 'Kay?

Disclaimer: White Collar, and all realated characters do not and, sadly, never will belong to me. Though I would dearly love to have Neal for my very own... one can dream, right? And speaking of dreaming...

Mist and Dreams


That was all he could see.

Peter sighed, frustrated. It would be nice to know where he was. Slowly he walked forward into the mist.

"Neal?" he called tentatively.

The mist swirled and he started to be able to see a shape up ahead. He frowned. Was that…?

Abruptly he stopped, still twenty feet away.

It was a plane.

Not just any plane.

The plane.

Peter swallowed nervously, his eyes darting around. The mist had died down now and he could see the hangar was deserted.

Slowly, unwillingly, his gaze went back to the plane.

Hadn't it blown up?

He remembered… he remembered holding onto Neal and the ex-con's desperate struggles…

Kate had been on that plane.

"Hello, Peter."

The voice was soft but Peter whirled, startled. He had been so sure he was alone!

His wide brown eyes met startlingly blue ones.

Kate Moreau looked back at him, her long hair behind her shoulders, mist swirling around her slim figure.

A stunned moment.

"You're dead," Peter said, shocked.

"I'm dead," Kate agreed, her gaze flickering to the plane. "And before you ask, no you're not dead," she said as Peter opened his mouth and abruptly he closed it again. "For now you've been allowed to visit," Kate continued.

"Visit? Allowed?" Peter questioned, confused.

Kate sighed, shaking her head. "I haven't figured it all out yet, Peter, so don't ask."

"Okay," Peter said slowly. "Do you at least know why I've been allowed to… visit?"

"We need to talk about Neal," Kate said, turning to look directly at him and Peter sighed.

It was always about Neal.

"What about him?" he asked gruffly.

Kate nodded. "You think I never loved Neal," she said softly.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Peter demanded and Kate sighed.

"I never liked you, Peter," she said after a moment. "I think the feeling was mutual."

Peter snorted and to his slight surprise Kate smiled a little.

"I'm not going to waste my time trying to convince you of something you don't want to believe," she murmured. "Ultimately it's no longer important anyway. What Neal feels is what matters now. He needs you, Peter. You're the only one."

Peter started, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu.

"The only one what?"

"You know the answer to that," Kate said, matter of fact.

Peter frowned, Neal's voice echoing in his head.

The only person in my life I trust.

"He's close to the edge, Peter," Kate said quietly. "He tries to hide it but he's about to fall in. You're the only one that can pull him back. Make sure you do it before it's too late. Otherwise you'll lose him forever."

"What do you mean before it's too late?" Peter asked but Kate shook her head and Peter noticed the mist starting to swirl again and the plane loomed.

"Take care of him, Peter."

Kate's said; voice nothing but a whisper in the ever increasing mist.


She was gone though, and there was only the mist.

Mist as far as the eye could see.

"Did you sleep well, Hon?" Elizabeth asked at breakfast, looking at her husband worriedly.

"What?" Peter asked, glancing up from his cereal, startled.

Elizabeth smiled. "Last night. Sleep well?"

"I had a strange dream," Peter admitted, shaking his head.

"What was it about?" El asked softly.

Peter hesitated. "Kate Moreau," he said finally.

"Neal's old girlfriend?" Elizabeth questioned, frowning.

"Yeah. She told me I had to help Neal before it was too late."

"Too late for what?" Elizabeth wondered.

"I'm not sure," Peter murmured thoughtfully.

"Morning, Peter," Neal greeted cautiously, eyeing the agent warily. "Am I late?"

"No, no. You're right on time," Peter said, straightening from his position leaning against Neal's desk. "Just wanted to see how your night was."

"Fine, thanks," Neal said slowly, studying Peter. "How was yours?"

"Average," Peter said quickly and Neal raised a brow. "How are you doing in general, Neal?"

"I'm good, Peter," Neal said, smiling disarmingly.

"He tries to hide it but he's about to fall in."

Peter frowned. "Good," he said. "You better get to work, Caffrey."

Abruptly the agent headed to his office.

Neal watched him thoughtfully.

Peter paced agitatedly in his office, staring out the glass window at Neal. The conman was writing diligently, not even glancing around.

"He's close to the edge."

Peter knew Neal was grieving for Kate. Knew he was mostly putting on a show to put everyone's mind at ease.

Even so... his dream from the night before unsettled him.

"He tries to hide it but he's about to fall in."

Kate had sounded so grimly sure and Peter had to wonder…

It had just been a dream though.

Just a dream.

Peter sighed, stopping in his doorway, his eyes on Neal.

As though sensing his gaze Neal glanced up, met his eyes and flashed a grin before turning back to whatever he was writing.

"He tries to hide it… you're the only one that can pull him back."

Peter nodded to himself, turning to his desk and waiting computer.

He would just have to keep a closer eye on Neal.

What else could he do?

"Make sure you do it before it's too late."

He would watch him carefully. He'd worked too hard, invested far too much in Neal to lose him now.

"Otherwise you'll lose him forever…"

Losing Neal wasn't an option.

That decided Peter nodded to himself again, resolved. He would not lose Neal, dream or no dream. Neal was far too important, far too valuable…

"I'll take care of him for you, Kate," he found himself murmuring. "I'll take care of him for both of us."