background preloader


Facebook Twitter

Trouble Is - Chapter 1 - neontiger55 - White Collar. Chapter Text The city was still drowsy as his taxi sailed down Seventh Avenue and Neal willed the traffic to close in around them. He’d left his apartment as late as possible and hadn’t corrected the driver when he’d turned left on Riverside, away from the Parkway and towards the congested heart of downtown. The car stunk of stale tobacco smoke and pine tree air freshener, and there were black scuffmarks all over the fabric of the ceiling for which Neal couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation. Outside, the neon signatures of the bodegas were dulling in the strengthening sunlight as it crept through the valleys of the buildings. Neal’s bag lay on the seat next to him, packed quickly but not carelessly.

The cabbie leaned on his horn and swerved around a bike messenger, causing the trinkets hanging from the rear-view mirror to swing out in a near horizontal line. You’re a criminal. Eventually, his cab pulled up a few meters away from the federal building. “I need to check that.” “Nope.” Archiveofourown. Up in Flames, White Collar. Neal hesitated. Peter had to refrain from jumping with joy. He knew he had won. Neal was changing his mind. Neal needed to stay; needed to put his life of crime behind him. He needed Peter more than he ever thought he would, and Peter felt the same.

Before bringing Neal out of prison to work as a consultant, life had been normal, or as normal as could be for an FBI agent. There were days when Peter had been so angry he had threatened to throw Neal back in prison. Peter wasn't sure when exactly it had happened. Then Kate had reappeared and Neal had found himself back under her spell. And his words had been enough. Neal stilled his footsteps and turned around. "Peter—" Before he could say anything more, there was an explosion.

For a moment, all of time seemed to stand still as Peter watched the raging inferno spread before him. When he reached him, Peter threw his arms around Neal and all but dragged him to the ground. Peter could feel his eyes beginning to water. But, Neal didn't run. Breaking Point, White Collar. Author note: English is not my mother tongue, so I'm really sorry for all my mistakes. The characters in this story are a little bit OOC. It takes place a few weeks (maybe three or four) after Kate's death. Neal was in prison for only two weeks and is still working for the FBI.

I hope you enjoy it! Breaking Point Neal was sitting by his desk. Since Kate's death was nothing the same again. He was in prison for only two weeks but this was enough. With a sick feeling in his stomach he stood up and walk to the coffee area. The coffee nearly fell on the floor, but Neal put it on the desk and went fast outside the coffee and outside of the building. So, Peter found him. He had phoned El who was in Washington but Neal didn't seem to listen. "Neal? " "Neal, we're at home. " Neal didn't say anything and after a few seconds he went out of the car.

Peter saw in his eyes and saw only a heartbreaking sadness. "Why don't you take a nap and I order a Pizza. Neal only nodded and lay down. "Peter? " "Neal? " It does not do to dwell on dreams, White Collar. A/N: More angsty early Season 2 fic! Title quote from HP. "How was he? " El asks, voice soft with sympathy, and Peter has to swallow down a lump in his throat before he can answer. He doesn't want to tell her about the stale metallic smell of the prison. He doesn't want to tell her how Neal, in his orange jumpsuit, is stripped of his armor. Armor, for Neal, is a vintage tailored suit and a wide smile. Armor can be heavy. "He's still in shock," Peter answers, as though that isn't obvious, as though Neal's life isn't over, all over again.

That night he holds El a little tighter. A girl who might have lived if she'd stepped off the plane, if she'd run. If only she had run. Neal shows up in his suit and his smile. What he wants—and it surprises him—is to put his arms around Neal, hold him like the son he and El have always wanted. But Neal's a tightrope walker. Peter can only catch him if he falls. (Peter tried to.) Neal's been who he is too long for it to all be his own fault. Peter swallows hard. Just Another Life, White Collar. This is a very out of character story that is dark and kind of sad. But the stupid plot bunny kept hopping around the room, throwing carrots at me. Obviously, I had no choice but to accept its craziness. Blame the bunny. Just Another Life Neal Peter thought he had it all. But Peter didn't have a clue. He didn't know about the lonely nights, staring at that damn bottle with tears rolling down his face. Peter didn't know because he didn't care.

He didn't care about the agents that sneered at him, insulted him behind his back when they knew he could hear. Because he was trying, damn it. Peter certainly didn't. He didn't know how much he hurt, how tired he was. He tried so hard to hold on, for Peter, for Kate, for the dream of someday everything falling back into place, back to the way things were supposed to be. He thought of June, of Moz, of Elizabeth, but they weren't enough. So he did the one thing he could do. He gave up. He left the hat and the bottle on the table in his apartment. Peter. I'll Say Goodnight But It's Never Goodbye, a White Collar fanfiction - lying here, making castles in the air. Title: I'll Say Goodnight But It's Never GoodbyeCharacters: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Mozzie.Rating: PG-13Word Count: 1555Spoilers: For the series, especially 6x06Warnings: presumed dead, detailed description of the effects of puffer fish toxin, including temporary paralysis, shortness of breath and vomitingDisclaimer: White Collar is Jeff Eastin's brainchild.

Not mine.Summary: Faking his death wasn't as easy as he thought it'd be.Prompts: “He died whilst faking his own death” (“Gavin & Stacey”), The VaultAuthor's Note: Title from Goodnight New York by Vienna Teng. For Challenge #12 - Weekly Quick Fic #5 - at writerverse. Episode tag for 6x06. I'm putting this down for the 'drugged' square on my hc_bingo card, even thought it doesn't quite fit.This fic is essentially me hurting Neal in order to deal with whatever residual rage the finale left in me. He'd hoped that Peter wouldn't make it, that he'd just see him in an ambulance before it screeched away. Neal closes his eyes. Funny. Chains and Charcoal - PeachWord - White Collar. Stories of Progress - BlackEyedGirl - White Collar.

Elizabeth hears the yelling from upstairs. For a moment, she's almost relieved. Neal had spent the first two days afterwards nearly silent. He had answered direct questions – medical personnel, agents, Elizabeth and Mozzie – but that was all. Peter had shrugged it off ("he screamed himself hoarse, El") and told her to wait. Give Neal time to get there. She's not sure this is what Peter meant. "If I hadn't, you would have died too. " "And what? " "You know what, Neal? Elizabeth hears the part Peter doesn't say, and she hears the thud of Neal punching him. She gets to the bottom of the stairs. Elizabeth steps in between them.

"El, what…? " "Out of the house. She turns and keeps her eyes on Neal while Peter makes his noisy, frustrated exit. "Elizabeth, no, he-. " "I know. Neal sits by her. "No. "It's not the same. " "Of course it's not. Neal is staring at the floor. Elizabeth says, "No you don't," and puts all the conviction she has in it. Neal whips his head around. "What? " "Kate. " Neal exhales. [fic: white collar] We Sleep on Stones - words of wood. Okay, so this is a thing, which is pretty much all the angst ever. *iz not sure about posting this* Title: We Sleep on StonesCharacters/Pairing: Neal, Peter; GenGenre/Rating: Angst; TWord count: 1800Warnings: Spoilers for 4x04; Character deathNotes: The title is from a song by Cherry Ghost.

This is unbeta'd, and doesn't really have a point apart from Neal-angst. I did promise it to theoret.I'm using this for my 'loss of voice' square in hc_bingo. Summary: Tag to 4x04, 'Parting Shots'. The ambulance pulls away. He isn't. The air feels too thin. He takes his phone out of his pocket, finding himself dialling without thinking about it. "Neal, hi," Peter answers. And Neal can't speak. "Neal? " It seems impossible, that Peter doesn't know already. He finds himself sitting down, against the planter which Ellen and Mozzie worked on together. There's the click of computer keys in the background. He disconnects the call. "Neal. " "I'll drive you to the hospital," Peter says, and waits. No, not on him. Apocalypse - IamShadow21 - White Collar. An apocalypse (Ancient Greek: ἀποκάλυψις apocálypsis, from ἀπό and καλύπτω meaning 'un-covering'), translated literally from Greek, is a disclosure of knowledge, i.e., a lifting of the veil or revelation, although this sense did not enter English until the 14th century.

In religious contexts it is usually a disclosure of something hidden. Neal's angry, and he's hurt, and if they hadn't been friends for so long and through all kinds of trouble, he'd think about walking away. But he can't, because he's not a fool, and he's learned when to listen. I don't trust him, Mozzie says, and though Mozzie is paranoid and obsessed with conspiracies and cover-ups and secret symbolism in every strange coincidence, his instincts are good, and that's why he's never been caught. Mozzie's first impulse is never, ever to go to the law.

So when Sam turns up, they talk, but the tape stays unmentioned, and unwatched. The first time he calls James Dad, it's in anger. WC - Sleep Will Come Soon - Sometimes... Title: Sleep Will Come SoonAuthor: angelita26Rating: PGCharacters: Neal, Peter, Elizabeth, Jones, Diana, and TheoSpoilers: Through the Season 5 finale.Word Count: ~1800Summary: Post-S5. A quiet moment amid chaos is enough to break down walls that Neal's spent seven months building up. Notes: Written for whitecollarhc's Abduct-a-Palooza II. Specifically in response to a prompt by anonymous. Neal padded quietly down the stairs and stood by the kitchen entryway to listen to the commotion in the dining area.

Elizabeth, in her fuzzy bathrobe and slippers, was making coffee. Neal shook his head and skirted around her to get a glass from the cabinet. "Hey, Neal," Diana called out. Jones threw him a wave before turning his back to shout into his phone again about NYPD's incompetent officers spooking their suspect. Peter looked up, surprised to see him. Neal shook his head and couldn't help from peering at Peter's screen to see what was up. "He's a fence. "Diana, toss me that file on Wan. " "Whoa! " The Scorpion's Ghost - yuma (yuma_writes) - White Collar. All we can do is keep breathing, White Collar.

A/N: I know many authors have written about this..but I was re-watching 'out of the box' and this is my take on what should have happened. Also, to all those readers who are following my story 'Alone', my beta is busy with end-of-semester college work and I think education is the most important thing so I've told her to take her time with the last two chapters. I'm sorry for the long wait, please bear with me.

Also, this is un-betaed. So feel free to point out any mistakes. Oh and the name of this story is taken from the song 'Keep Breathing' by Ingrid Michaelson which I was listening to while writing this. DISCLAIMER: White Collar, unfortunately, does not belong to me. Neither does Neal Caffrey. WARNING: Use of some strong words, because frankly speaking I felt the situation needed it. It was so cold. "You said goodbye to everyone but me. "I dunno. " "Yeah, you do. "I don't know! " "Why? " "You know why. " "Tell me. " "Because you're the only one who could change my mind. " "Did I? " "Peter-..' "My.. Fic: Shards (White Collar, PG, 1300 words) - Flora.

Title: ShardsAuthor: FloraRating: PGGenre and/or Pairing: GenCharacters: Neal, DianaSpoilers: Season 2Warnings: NoneWord Count: 1300Summary: A part of him keeps thinking didn’t we just do this? A/N: I am procrastinating terribly on finishing my big bang fic. I am also about halfway through rewatching S2 and could not get this image out of my head. A part of him keeps thinking didn’t we just do this? The smell of the hospital is the same, burned coffee and some astringent, aggressively lemon-scented cleaners. The clock on the wall could read twelve noon or twelve midnight; harsh fluorescent lights and no windows give a sense of time frozen, of being trapped in a day without sun or darkness, a day that doesn’t end.

Neal could close his eyes and imagine they’re waiting on Peter to be discharged, almost hear the night nurse saying poison was a shock to his system, saying got the antidote in time, saying needs to rest and recover going to be fine. Almost. That was nearly two weeks ago. Spiral - sahiya - White Collar. Neal was no stranger to depression. Looking back, he realized that his mom had been severely depressed all through his childhood, and he knew that there had been times in prison when he’d been depressed, too. The weeks after Kate’s death were a black hole that he barely remembered, and the only thing that had helped was coming back to work for Peter. But as long as he kept himself out prison, he was fine. Or at least he had been, until now. At first, he thought it was just letdown. He’d been busting his ass for weeks, trying to prove Peter’s innocence.

Peter was perfectly civil to him during working hours, but he wasn’t friendly. Neal knew himself well enough to recognize the signs. For a while that worked. And then there was the work. Neal had always liked working for the FBI. Everything started to seem like a lot of effort. This was bad, Neal knew. But it hurt. The form for terminating his work release was only a page long. “Neal,” Peter’s voice said suddenly, startling him. Ellen. Fin.