Postcards – A post-"Judgment Day" fic where Neal writes postcards to those he left behind.
A/N I wrote this before reading any "Judgment Day" fics, so if it sounds similar to another, great minds think alike.
The airplane ride afforded Neal a lot of time to think.
And Neal George Caffrey had a lot on his mind. He'd have like to paint, but stewardesses usually frowned on such artistic endeavors mid-flight. Anyways, the paint jars were more than 3 oz.
Instead Neal wrote. He wrote postcards, which he'd drop in the mail well after he was ensconced in whatever island Mozzie had prepared. As long as it had complete lack of an extradition treaty, he didn't really care where it was; at the moment, Neal's heart was far from Lelani's paradise.
No good deed goes unpunished.
Congratulations, you just turned a man from being a valuable asset to one of the bureau's most wanted. They ought to give you a medal! You taught me that every effort towards reform was in vain, that no matter what good I tried to do, no matter what wrong I tried to right, you'd hunt me down. Not only would you hunt me down for "justice," you'd hunt down for your own use, you'd keep me for life to further your own work. If that's how it works I think I'll stick to the con gig. At least they reward you for working hard.
I will never be a tool in your belt.
With complete sincerity,
Neal George Caffrey
Taking a deep breath, Neal changed focus. His note to June was short but honest.
You've been too good to be true. I cannot ask you to keep my room for me, but keep me in your heart. You shall be forever in mine.
P.S. I hear that tropical cruises are a great escape from the city.
Neal struggled writing for Sarah, Jones, and Diana. What was he supposed to say? None of them could ever be part of his life again. They'd accepted him for who he was, but he could not ask them to join him now.
And then there was Peter. Peter, about whom he currently had 3 crossed off lines and no idea what to actually put.
I would have stayed for...
I'm sorry you weren't there to stop me from boarding this plane...
The last one Neal had almost kept. Perhaps if Peter had been there like he was with Kate's plane Neal would have listened. But he wasn't. He'd been defending Neal back in New York, back in the only home Neal had ever known since that 18th birthday when he'd run away the first time.
A/N This isn't the most carefully thought through fic ever, but I wanted get it out while it was fresh in my head. I'd also love to see what you guy think Neal might write on a postcard. If you write one (either for a character I did, or one I skipped), send it to me. I'd love to see it (or post them as a second chapter if I get a few.)