This is my first fanfic. The story is in my mind for long time and I finally created courage to post. But I never would have done it without the help of my new friend Shelby (Bonkers4Reid) that revised the grammar so that everyone could understand. Thank you again.
Making clear that story has begun in the day the U-boat exploded and Neal doesn't know that the treasure didn't burn.
Trust. What is the basic effect of this word? What does it mean? According to the dictionary, it means to have firm hope in someone, hope for the future. Trust is something that Peter would never have in him. Neal felt bad every time he thought of Peter's distrust after the U-boat explosion.
Peter not only distrusted Neal, he even created a pretext to do so. First he thought Peter was accusing him of seeking revenge upon Adler with the explosion. But Peter could never accuse him of burning precious pieces of art. Peter knew he would never do that. But he soon realized that Peter was accusing him of stealing the paintings, a priceless treasure.
Those paintings certainly were worth more money than one person could ever possibly spend in a lifetime. But what made no sense was Peter's accusation. How could Neal have stolen the treasure when he had just watched it all become consumed by the fire?
Peter just couldn't accept what he'd witnessed. He went so far as to accuse Neal even though he didn't actually have any evidence that Neal had stolen the treasure. Peter had not given him any credit, absolutely no confidence vote.
Trust. Trust is something that only friends have with each other. Peter and Neal weren't friends and never could be, because trust is one thing missing in this scenario.
Anger corrupted Neal's senses. The pain in his stomach was growing stronger, but he hardly felt it because the adrenaline caused by his own relentless fury at Peter's distrust overwhelmed his body. He would take advantage of it and use this energy to get home. Home: where he could lie in bed, take something to calm his stomach, and sleep to forget everything that had taken place this terrible week.
The only thing good was Sara. She had forgiven Neal's kiss with Alex when he had said that what was between them was over. His world was collapsing around him and he felt like he had nothing to lean on, to act as his anchor.
But that wasn't true. If Peter didn't want to believe him, he still had Mozzie, and now, Sara. Mozzie was the one who would never disappoint him. He was also the only one who knew the terrible secret with which Neal was struggling. He would tell Peter when it all ended, but now there was no reason for it.
For Sara it was another story. He didn't want to impose anything on her. How could he throw something so heavy on the shoulders of his girlfriend, especially so early into their relationship? Mozzie was the only one who knew. And the only one who would know.
Neal came home desperately wanting to lie down, but he quickly realized that not only his body but also his suit smelled of smoke. He definitely needed a bath before he could turn in.
He nimbly took off his clothes and turned on the shower. The hot water beat down on Neal's skin. It was a welcome relief for some of the pain in his belly. Now as his anger was beginning to fade, Neal knew that he had to stop thinking about what had happened, because he more he thought about it, the more his stomach would hurt.
The time he spent in the shower was very relaxing. When Neal had used all the hot water he got out and dried himself with his towel. He then went to the closet to get clean underwear and pajamas. He dressed and went to bed forgetting to take any pain medication.
After what seemed like only a few minutes he heard a knock and slowly got up and went toward the door. Neal opened it just enough to see who it was. He leaned against the wall beside the door with his right arm and in the left he held the doorknob. It was Peter.
"What do you want, Peter?" Neal said wearily. "If you came to apologize couldn't it wait until tomorrow?"
"Don't be cute Neal." Peter said looking over him from top to bottom. He then looked directly into his face. "Go get dressed Neal, you're coming with me."
"Where are we going?" Neal asked curiously.
"You'll see when we arrive." Peter said without giving any further explanation. He went back downstairs to wait for Neal in the car.
Neal did as Peter asked. He took a clean suit out of the closet and found a tie to match. He hoped Peter had forgotten his suspicions and had come up with a way to redeem himself. He went to the bathroom and brushed his hair wet.
Neal looked at the clock and saw that it was midnight. What Peter could want with him at this hour? He went downstairs and opened the door and saw Peter's Taurus parked out front. Edging closer to the car he saw that Peter wasn't alone. Jones was with him, sitting in the front seat. Neal had no choice but to sit in the back seat.
Peter drove for about twenty minutes and eventually stopped outside a kind of warehouse.
"Get out of the car." Peter instructed and Neal obeyed.
They entered the small building. It was dark and there was only one table with two chairs illuminated by a small lamp in the center of the room. On the table there was a strange machine, like... a polygraph.
"Peter..." Neal started but was cut off.
"Take off your jacket and roll up your sleeves." Peter ordered.
"Peter..." Neal tried again.
"Don't 'Peter' me. Do what I say."
Neal had become very angry. Heck, why had he thought that Peter had forgotten about this crazy idea? Peter was not going to apologize. This was the man who had saved him that very day. Peter had shot and killed Adler to prevent him from shooting Neal, and here he was in front of him now suspicious enough of Neal to put him up against a lie detector.
"What are you doing?" Neal asked, striving to keep his tone calm.
"You said to prove it." Peter responded. Neal remembered his words perfectly when Peter accused him of stealing the treasure. His anger was such that he said 'then prove it', but he never imagined that the agent would take it this seriously. Neal didn't know anything, so he didn't have anything to be afraid of, but he was hurt by the fact that Peter was treating him like a criminal suspect.
The questions began shortly after Jones connected all the wires in his arms. They were usually easy to answer, along the lines of "What is your eye color?", "What was stored in the warehouse?", and "What happened?" But then Peter looked straight into his eyes and asked if he had stolen the treasure. Neal said no and gave the same response when Peter asked, 'Who stole it?' As if he was sure it had been stolen.
The polygraph confirmed that Neal was telling the truth, but if Peter had ever believed in him, he would not need a polygraph to tell him. If one day he finally trusted in Neal, he would be able to look in Neal's eyes and see that he is telling the truth. If Peter ever trusted Neal, he would know that Neal never lied to him.
"It's two o'clock the morning Peter," said Neal, tired, "Will you keep me here all night?"
"Until I'm satisfied." Peter replied.
Neal's stomach pain had increased considerably as Neal's anger grew. His stomach was so sore that he had to concentrate not to vomit. Neal decided it best to just answer Peter's questions. The sooner this was over, the sooner he would finally be able to go home
The questions continued, but Neal just paid enough attention to respond and then forgot them completely due to his pain and his concentration on breathing.
Peter did not notice the discomfort of his CI, or if he did notice he decided it wasn't important. The questions continued until four thirty in the morning. Then Peter took Neal back to June's house without saying anything on the way. When Neal arrived at his apartment he collapsed on the bed without even changing his clothes or setting the alarm clock.