TRAUMABEANS AU

[conning]

boop

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[abrightboy]

"In case they're listening," Malcolm says ominously. "Coffee? Tea?"

[conning]

"Someone sold me out," Ellen says frankly, going to join Malcolm in the kitchen. "How do you work the French press? I've never had one. Always seemed like too much trouble."

Neal almost laughs at that, dragging a hand through his hair and giving Peter a worried look. "Someone very highly connected."

Peter nods slowly, looking sick. He pulls out his cell phone, stares at it a moment, then puts it away before Neal can protest the idea of him making a call. He looks from Ellen to Neal to Malcolm and back, lips pressed tight together. "I'd like to bring Diana and Jones in on this."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm is about to explain the french press to Ellen when that question is asked and he looks at Neal.

“Do you trust them?” he asks Neal, specifically, and only Neal.

[conning]

Neal and Peter both look at Malcolm in surprise. Two very different brands thereof.

“Of course he trusts them,” Peter snaps.

For the first time he can remember, maybe the first time ever, Neal feels a stab of annoyance over Peter speaking for him.

“With this, I trust them,” he says softly. “They’ve both worked off-book with Peter before.”

Peter eyes Neal with a mix of concern and irritation, apparently trying to decide what to say.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm gives Neal a nod, completely ignoring Peter’s remark and Peter’s tone and Peter’s face. Well, for a second.

Then he looks at Peter.

“You’re here because Neal trusts you with Ellen’s life. She’s the last of his childhood family. The last. We cannot afford anyone in this loop who would go to higher ups or fellow agents out of a sense of duty. Someone in the government is trying to kill her. They just barely missed killing all three of us to get to her.”

[conning]

Neal… decides to stay out of it. He’s not sure it’s the right choice, but at the moment it’s a less anxiety-inducing one. He drifts over to Malcolm’s desk as Peter gathers breath to argue about… something. Who knows what. Neal doesn’t care right now.

They almost got shot, Ellen almost got shot.

Peter stops himself before he has the chance to be much more than scathing about Malcolm’s knowledge of his team, seeing Neal’s apparent disconnect. He takes a step toward the other man.

“Neal?”

“There’s no second chances here,” he says. He’s standing behind Malcolm’s desk now, staring at Jesus on the wall. “You die once and that’s it. It’s harder to remember that than it should be.”

Peter and Ellen both seem at a loss for what to say to that.

[abrightboy]

“You remembered it when I wanted to stay behind,” Malcolm reminds him gently. He takes the howling kettle off the heat, but abandons the french press project to step to the end of the counter. “You won’t let it happen carelessly.”

[conning]

He looks over at Malcolm at that, relief pinching lightly in his chest. Malcolm is right. He remembered. Faced with the risk again, he'll probably remember from pure instinct if nothing else. Death isn't pleasant. That probably hasn't changed.

"Gil," he says suddenly. "Would Gil help?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nods.

“He helped with the Endicott case when the higher ups wanted it dropped.”

[conning]

"Can you call him? Or..." Neal frowns at the painting, tries to shake off the sense that it's watching him back, and goes back to the kitchen. He slips an arm around Malcolm as he goes, drawing the other man back to the press. "Do you think your phone is safe?"

Peter holds up a hand. "Wait, what were you..."

Neal keeps his eyes on the coffee.

[abrightboy]

"I can call him to come over without saying anything sensitive," Malcolm assures him. At Peter's question, Malcolm holds up a silencing finger, then makes a show of dialling.

[conning]

Peter makes an irritated sound, takes a step toward Neal with the clear intent to draw him aside, and Ellen gets between the two of them. She puts her hand on Peter's shoulder and guides him toward the couch. "Let me catch you up on what happened this morning."

Neal relaxes as Peter's mix of curiosity and politeness temporarily saves Neal himself from interrogation.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm draws near Neal as he hangs up the call.

“Gil’s on his way,” he says softly. “How are you doing?”

[conning]

"I'm okay," he says, tilting his head in a way that says 'as okay as I can be.' A deep breath, a long exhale. "He's going to ask me what I meant by that. I don't know if I'm ready to tell him. Either of them."

[abrightboy]

"You don't have to tell them anything. Or make something up, if you feel like you have to respond. Say... getting away felt like another chance at life but this whole shooting business made the finality of it real or something." Malcolm smiles a little. "You have a more talented tongue than I do; you'll think of something good."

[conning]

"I don't want to lie to them," Neal murmurs, torn. "I just don't want to answer all the questions he'll have."

[abrightboy]

"Then just tell them you're not ready to talk about it yet," Malcolm suggests gently.

[conning]

Neal nods, wishing he was at all confident that Peter would leave the issue be at that.

The man himself clears his throat from his position at the other side of the kitchen island, Ellen at his shoulder. She looks pleased. Peter looks slightly uncomfortable.

“I owe you a… thank you,” Peter says. “For doing what you did this morning.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks over, raising his eyebrows.

“…Me or him?” he asks, gesturing between himself and Neal.

He feels Peter looks just the right amount of uncomfortable.

[conning]

Neal looks at Malcolm in slight bemusement. Obviously, he thinks, Peter means Malcolm.

A pause, then Peter says, “Both of you.”

Another pause. To Malcolm: “You saved Ellen and Neal. Protected them. I owe you for that.”

Then to Neal, he says—more quietly, “Thank you for bringing me in on this. For trusting me.”

Neal blinks, surprised. “Of course I trust you.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm really doesn’t think he did anything he wouldn’t do for a stranger in the same position, but he smiles graciously.

“All I want is to find out who’s behind this so Neal can have his family back.”

[conning]

Peter nods gruffly. Looks at Ellen. Then at Neal. “Me too. I’ll meet with Diana at my place tonight, bring her up to speed, and she can read Jones in.”

Neal nods, feeling better with the knowledge that the two of them will be working this too. Diana in particular.

The kettle starts to whistle, and Neal glances toward it, thoughts briefly derailed. Peter takes the opening.

“Neal… are you all right?”

He glances at Peter as he goes to the French press, then focuses on the coffee. “I’m fine.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm doesn't go for the kettle when it howls. He leaves it for Neal, watching him and watching Peter, his gaze tangibly vigilant.

"Do you know anyone who can loop you in to the movements of organized crime in the city?" Malcolm asks Peter before he can question that lie.

[conning]

Peter glances at him, grunts and holds up a hand to forestall the question for a moment, then looks at Neal again.

“There are times when you’re really hard to read and times when you’re a really bad liar, and this is one of the latter.”

Neal hesitates in the middle of pouring water from teapot to French press.

[abrightboy]

“Maybe it’s not a lie,” Malcolm tells him. “Maybe it’s a boundary. He’s allowed to have them. All evidence to the contrary.”