Work Text:
Peter wasn't sure about how his day was going to go. There had been only one witness to the fencing of a stolen tapestry they were tracking but she had willingly called them and volunteered information. The only problem was that she was hesitant to speak to them in person, not because of the possible retribution, but because she had some sort of "gnarly scar". He had assured her that they still would very much like to talk to her but when she actually showed up Peter understood a lot more of why she was hesitant to come in to start with. She'd explained that several years previously her ex-broyfriend had burned her with acid over the phone and Peter had braced himself. It had not been enough.
When they had to talk to the woman with the cloth face mask that did a paltry job hiding the massive scar that took up nearly three quarters of her face no one could meet her eyes. She wore her bangs swept to one side long to help hide it but if she wanted to see at all her scarring was going to be visible. She was their only witness but even once she got there she was hesitant to speak to anyone. Even the more hardened agents in the office were either staring at her scar or refusing to look at her altogether. Apart from that she was wearing a dark purple sweatshirt and dark wash jeans with her tennis shoes. She was in her late twenties although the scarring made her look twenty years older. Peter felt bad for her, he really did, especially for putting her on the spot like he knew he had to do, but they had to find answers.
Neal had been out on a coffee run when their witness arrived and he was just figuring out the best approach to speak with her when an idea struck him. Maybe he could use Neal’s good looks to draw her attention and get her to talk to them. It wasn’t the worst idea ever. He was just wondering vaguely if he could get Neal to flirt with her even if she didn’t fit his normal supermodel aesthetic when the conman returned, fancy latte in hand no doubt.
“Hey, did our witness show up?”
Peter could tell that Neal wasn't really paying full attention, mind somewhere else entirely. He really needed him to focus on the task at hand.
“She did. Listen, Neal. I need you to talk to her but you’re gonna have to be careful. She’s very cagey and tight lipped. She doesn’t have to talk to us and we’re not holding her. We just need to talk to her about what she saw. She also has a lot of scarring.”
Neal sipped at his drink and had a passing thought to make sure his most caffeine reliant brother wasn’t overdoing it again as he walked in the door. Dick was usually pretty good about staying on top of it but every once in a while it helped if the others stepped in. Oh shoot. Peter was waiting for him to do something. His mind was still on the family group chat he’d had with his family the night before on the distinctly not FBI approved computer. The witness. Right. He needed to charm the witness. That wouldn’t be a problem. He could let loose some pheromones if he really needed to but the extra boost wasn’t normally needed. The fact that she was scarred hadn't even registered in his brain, his brain still half on the long conversation with his family. He tended to forget that not everyone was covered in scars and such. He still remembered comparing the most gnarled ones that each other had when they were coming out of the shower. When basically everyone around you had them it was an easy thing to forget that most normal people didn't have more than two or three at most (5 or 6 if you lived in Gotham) and none of those were brands from over zealous pompous super villains.
“So where’s our little lady?”
“In the conference room upstairs in the corner. But-”
Neal was already strolling in and Peter inwardly cursed, scrambling after him. If they scared her off they would be screwed. Neal stepped into the room, ever charming smile in place and tweaking his natural perfume to relax her a bit, not enough to be notable but enough to have a subtle desired effect.
“Thanks for coming to talk to us. I’m Neal, Neal Caffrey. It’s nice to meet you.”
He held out his hand to the woman who turned just enough to side eye him from behind her covered face. She looked down at his hand and then back up to his face where he still wore that winning smile before she turned a little further and shook his hand.
“Evelyn Barbadoss.”
Even with so little of her face showing he could tell she was tired but it wasn’t the kind of tired from two or three poor nights of sleep. It was the kind of bone deep tired that came from being tired down to one’s very soul. It was something he recognized all too personally. Yet another thing that hardly phased him but it did give him a hint that she might be sensitive to seeing everything around her.
“Would you like to have a seat while we talk or would you prefer to stand?”
She looked a little torn and still lost that he even thought to offer her the choice but more than anything, she just looked tired. Her figure had relaxed just a little bit.
“I’ll sit I guess…?”
He nodded and pulled out a chair facing away from the rest of the office for her. She gingerly sat down and he sat caddy cornered from her just about the time Peter charged in. Instantly she stiffened up again and Neal sighed inwardly. Nice job, Peter.
“I’m Agent Peter Burke. Thank you for agreeing to talk to us, Miss Barbadoss.”
Her shrewd eyes were on him but kept bouncing back to Neal like she wasn’t quite sure what to think about them. He cranked up the relaxing scent just a little, not to get what he wanted but because he hated to see anyone that tense and uncomfortable. He knew first hand how uncomfortable that was.
“Would you like something to drink, Miss Evelyn?”
He was careful to make sure she felt like the beautiful woman she was but that she also felt like the equal she was.
“No… no thank you, Mister Caffrey. I… I should just get out of here as soon as I can. I’m not needed here.”
She kept looking away from them and though she physically relaxed again marginally she kept her eyes down. Neal frowned at that.
“I would love to hear more about yourself in a more private setting outside the office but that’s neither here nor there sadly. Unfortunately work must come before play but that doesn’t mean we can’t mix a little fun in too.”
For a fraction of a second he noticed the smile touch her eyes before flickering out again and her eyes dropped to her hand on the table again. A small victory was still a victory.
“It must have been scary to see what you did. Would you like to talk about it?”
She nodded and finally she began to talk.
Peter almost opened his mouth several times throughout their conversation but before he could, Neal had stomped on his foot. He wasn’t sure how Neal knew that he was about to ask something almost before Peter when he never even looked at him but he did every time. Fifteen minutes later they had everything they needed and she fell silent for a moment. Not once did Neal so much as glance at the massive scar. Peter wondered how he did it. Peter himself was good but he didn’t think anyone was that good. The conman was something else.
“Now that all that’s out of the way, would you like to have a private drink with me?”
She stared at him, trying and failing to read him.
“You don’t really want to be seen with me. No one does.”
Something shifted in Neal’s face that Peter didn’t recognize.
“I wouldn’t make an offer if I didn’t want to but the choice is yours. I just feel that every lady deserves to feel like one.”
“That’s enough, Neal! I’m sorry about my consultant here. He likes to think he’s charming.”
Then the unthinkable happened. She giggled weakly and instantly the years of pain and exhaustion evaporated, her eyes sparking faintly with life. She hesitated for half a second before she removed the face mask she wore. Peter did his best to hide the flinch at her twisted and burnt lips but Neal didn’t so much as shift. If anything his warm smile grew larger but not quite Gotham larger. This was all Adonis pretty boy. Her smile grew a little and though she addressed Peter her eyes were raking over Neal’s well dressed frame.
“Not at all, Agent Burke. I’m not making any promises but I don’t remember the last time I had a conversation like I was a normal person. I would love to have a drink with you, Neal Caffrey.”
She wrote down her number for them with her name and stood up, replacing her mask as she moved to the door.
“I’ll see you on Friday evening?”
“That sounds lovely. I’ll see you then.”
Then she left. Peter just wanted a straight answer for once.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what? Get a date? Peter, you’ve seen me right?”
It was a vain thing to say but it wasn’t untrue, even Peter had to admit that, but that wasn’t what Peter was getting at.
“Yes but- no. How do you ignore all this? She wouldn’t talk to anyone but when you talk to her for two minutes she tells us everything.”
Neal shrugged as Peter waved his hand in front of his face. Neal's brain was a little sluggish but he legitimately wasn't sure what Peter was going on about for a moment before things started to make sense. Scarring. Right.
“I treat them like people. Everyone has a beauty of some kind to them. Some people just have a hard time seeing it, especially in themselves.”
Neal headed for his desk leaving Peter to consider the new insight on how Neal saw the world. He shook his head. He needed to get the new information in order so they could wrap up the case.
When Friday morning rolled around Neal dialed the number Evelyn had given him.
“Hello? Evelyn? This is Neal.”
“Hello Neal. I didn’t expect you to really call me. Where would you like to meet?”
He hummed in thought.
“There’s a wonderful little wine bar not far from me. I would come pick you up but sadly I have a bit of an electronic leash.”
He was prepared for her to say that she actually wasn’t all that interested but she surprised him with her bluntness.
“Why?”
“I unfortunately have had a bit of a problem with sticky fingers around beautiful pieces of art but I’m doing my community service on the straight and narrow now.”
Again he expected rejection as it seemed almost everyone was doing recently and again she surprised him.
“I’m used to driving myself. I warn you that I'm a bit of a wine snob though. I’ll meet you there at 6 and we'll see if you really have good tastes or not. Make a reservation for us?”
“Why of course. I suppose we will find out. Granted, I've never heard any complaints about my tastes in wine. I’ll see you then.”
“Bye Neal.”
The phone clicked and Neal laughed. Even if he didn’t get a bed partner for the night out of it he wouldn’t be complaining too much. She really was an interesting person that deserved to feel special. If he could do that for her for one night it would be worth it.
As the day went on he kept glancing at his watch and Peter noticed.
“What are you planning, Neal?”
He glanced up from his watch again.
“Not much. Just getting drinks with a friend this evening.”
“A lady friend?”
Neal looked legitimately affronted Peter would assume the gender of his date. He really should know better.
“Peter, you know that I’m not that discriminatory about my partners. It so happens that it is a lady friend. You remember Evelyn from earlier this week.”
Peter blinked. That was surprising. Peter was suddenly struck with a sickening thought. Evelyn would be very vulnerable and would probably go for anybody that showed her even a shred of human decency. No. Neal was a better person than that but it was the kind of thing he may not have thought of. He had to make sure that Neal didn't do something incredibly damaging just because it didn't occur to him.
“Neal, a woman like Evelyn isn’t used to positive attention. She’s going to be very vulnerable.”
Neal blinked, openly lost for the first time in a while. He blinked at his friend, not sure what he was going on about as he adjusted his papers.
“I have no idea what you’re getting at but Evelyn is a lovely girl. I wanted to get to know her better. Besides, she reminds me of one of my sisters. That’s all.”
Peter’s attention hyper focussed on that and added it to his mental file of, 'The Real Neal'.
“Your sister?”
Neal casually rolled his shoulders as he shuffled some more of his paperwork around while he casually talked to Peter.
“One of them.”
Neal's mind had returned to the work and it was clear that Peter wasn’t going to get anything else out of him.
When Neal arrived at the quiet wine bar he was looking forward to the evening. He had been honest with Peter when he said that Evelyn reminded him of his sister. He was reminded of Cas when they had first taken her in and how much she struggled with the fact that she stood out a lot. It hadn’t bothered her exactly but it did wear on her even with a massive family of people that helped, supported, and loved her every step of the way. He had the sneaking suspicion that Evelyn never had that or at the very least hadn’t for a while. He noticed her getting out of the cab and waved a hand to her in greeting. He smiled when he noticed the dark green velvet dress she wore. It wasn’t anything overly fancy but it was obviously new. He noticed a small plastic tag still on her side and palmed a small flower shaped shuriken so he could trim it off without her noticing. Tonight wasn’t a night to embarrass her. He moved towards her and kissed her cheeks while he smoothly trimmed off the plastic before returning the throwing weapon to his hidden pocket.
“You look beautiful, Miss Evelyn.”
She smiled shyly as she played with her mahogany colored wavy hair.
“Just Evelyn is fine. I have to admit, I’m a little rusty. I haven’t been on a date in years.”
He gasped in horrified shock and gestured at her dress.
“That’s a travesty! You’re such a beautiful young woman.”
She smiled and pushed some of her curls behind her ear to show more of her face.
“You’re sweet to say that but it’s alright. I’m sure you only asked me out out of pity but that’s okay. I appreciate it anyway.”
He led her inside to the intimate dark purple booth in the corner where a bottle of wine was already waiting.
“You’re wrong you know. I don’t believe in doing anything out of pity. I asked you to have a drink with me because you seemed like a delightful young woman with far less friends than you deserve. That and you reminded me a bit of my sister. You also looked like a person with good taste in wine and we all need more friends that enjoy the finer things in life. Peter, for instance, completely uncultured.”
She was staring at him as she removed her mask entirely and placed it away in her bag before accepting the glass of wine he handed her. She still seemed nervous with her face totally uncovered but she was beginning to relax visibly despite that.
“Thank you, Neal. Really. I’m… I’m not used to people treating me like a normal person anymore.”
He sipped at his own glass of red wine and let it swirl around his mouth before swallowing it delicately and deliberately.
“We all have scars, some more visible than others. Our scars are a record of our lives for better or worse, reminders, but they don't rule our lives. I’m lucky enough to have lots of family to help but a lot of people don’t. Really, I wanted to invite you out because I know what it’s like to let your past destroy you and I know how much it hurts to face that alone. So, for tonight, we’re just two normal friends enjoying a night out.”
She fell silent and stared at him from over her drink until he turned to look at her.
“Hey now, that’s no reason to cry.”
She quickly wiped her tears away with a napkin and drank from her own glass, staring into it.
“Thank you, Neal. Really, I… I haven’t been alone with anyone like this since my ex… since he did this to me.”
Neal reached out and placed one of his hands over hers with a gentle squeeze. She finally looked up at him with a true full smile for the first time and a flirtatious edge quirking the corners of her painted scarred lips.
“I’m not looking for anything long term but you said you have scars too. If you don’t mind, show me?”
He smiled and lifted her hand so he could press his lips to the back of it. “It would be my pleasure.”
When Monday rolled around Peter couldn’t decide if he wanted to talk to Neal about his weekend or not. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, quite frankly, so he didn’t say anything. There had been a sudden severe snow storm that had come through the night before. It was getting quite cold outside the office and he had pulled out his longer warmer coat and thicker socks to help combat it. Still, it was the first day of the year that the weather had actually gotten cold enough to warrant the heavy clothing so no one thought much about it when they were investigating a break in at a gallery that was way too cold. They'd been told that the heater had broken that morning but they were working on getting it fixed. Not a big deal but annoying. The gallery was displaying life sized animals entirely encrusted in precious gemstones worth millions each. Several of the smaller pieces had been removed from an arctic display and instantly Neal had a bad feeling. He needed to get a closer look at it and was already climbing up the side of the display with an unnatural agility when Peter noticed what he was doing. He was acting marginally off and Peter wanted to know why.
“While you check out the scene I’m going to talk to the curator and see what he can tell us.”
“Got it.”
Neal had gracefully scaled the five foot display wall and was laser focussed on the crime scene. He was almost never this singularly focussed. In addition to that something was causing his brow to knit together. He was upset about something and it was something serious.
“Neal? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking this looks way too much like one of the supervillains from back home and I really hope it’s not. Don’t worry, Peter. I’ll let you know once I make sure. His signatures are pretty conspicuous so they're easy to fake.”
“Signature?"
"Yeah. Most of the major players in Gotham have a signature so people know for sure it was them."
Peter shook his head as he tried to make sense of the insanity that was super villains for a second before giving up. There was a reason most of that was left to the Justice League and other heroes. Even among them, Gotham was special. Gotham took care of herself. The dynamic of heroes, cops, and super villains really was something else. He was beyond thrilled that he didn't have to deal with it twenty four-seven and just prayed he wasn't about to have to deal with it in New York. Either way, Neal was scarrily good at spotting the minute evidence that everyone else seemed to miss, especially when it came to Gotham. If there was a link to Gotham, he would recognize it. Peter really would have to face that professionally at some point. He wondered idly if it had something to do with Gotham's claim on him. He would ask him at some point.
"Alright. I’ll be back. I think his office is just around the corner if you need me.”
Neal nodded and was already scanning the area, searching for the tell tale signs of cigar ash and fish oil. It was the easiest tell when it came to one Mister Cobblepot and his thieveries when he was personally present. The man never had been able to drop the nasty habit of smoking his expensive cigar and he'd always had a soft spot for snacking on canned fish. If he was right, there was no way the Penguin was going to trust his grunts with this without him personally overseeing the ‘rehoming’ of the gem encrusted arctic birds. They weren't all penguins, the main reason he wasn't positive who the thief was, but some of them were. He had just spotted the small trail of ash but he noticed there was something strange about one of the rocks he was standing next to. It just didn’t quite match the rest in color. Over the noise of the failing heater he was able to faintly hear a light ticking. Right when it registered what he was able to flip out of the way with his arms crossed in front of his face and chest but the small series of dangerous blasts set off the fire suppression system and broke the large window. He had minor burns that wouldn't be too bad but the explosions had let in the icy weather and air. The emergency alarm also went off at the same time and sent cages slamming down over the displays so Neal couldn’t go anywhere. He was temporarily stuck. In the time it took Peter to get to see what the hell Neal had done it could only have been 2 minutes at most. When he came tearing around the corner he saw his CI and friend curled up in a ball with soaking clothes shivering fiercely and Gotham angrily hissing her not-noise like a furious cat.
“Neal! What happened ?!”
“Cobblepot left us a gift! Of course I was right! I just had to be right!”
He was already starting to shake from the cold.
“Neal, look at me. We're going to get you out of there and warmed up.”
Peter turned to the wide eyed curator.
“Well? Get him out.”
But the man shook his head shakily.
“It’s a security protocol. They’ll all open in 2 hours but I can’t override it.”
Peter cursed. If the curator couldn’t get it open maybe Neal could. It was their only chance.
“Neal, can you get this gate open?”
He was beginning to turn a frightening shade of blue with terrifying brown undertones. Neal was trying to clench his teeth to keep them from chattering but he was failing.
“I-I don’t know. Wh-what model is it?”
Neal was able to talk him through the opening process even if it involved frying the circuit board for the security of the entire building. If it meant getting Neal out alive Peter didn’t care. All he knew was that they were running out of time quickly. They were at the 25 minute mark and Neal wasn’t making much sense. At last the security gate opened and Neal fell out of the display. The ambulance was on its way but Neal needed help now. He’d sent the curator to collect the fire blankets while he worked quickly to get the gate open so he had some way to try and warm Neal up but he had to get him out of his icy clothes first or it wouldn't do any good. Neal was able to help him some but he wasn’t in his right mind, that was for sure. His mumbling was tinged with a gruff yet somehow unnaturally smooth accent he'd heard from Jason but almost never from Neal himself. He sounded so young.
“Bruce... I-I’m sorry... Freeze g-got me. Need... lamp... cold...”
He quickly stripped him but each inch of revealed skin was mostly a twisted gnarled quilt of scars, not a single square inch left unmarred. Blade slashes, stabs, bullets, burns, whips. It never ended. Peter had to fight not to be sick. That someone could survive injuries this severe, that someone could have this much done to them, it was beyond sickening. Neal was curled in a ball covered only in the blankets. His skin was still that worrying dark brown like a dehydrated plant and wilted flower.
“B-Bruce… p-please... D-dad, I’m cold. Please, m-make it g-go away... won’t l-let Freeze g-get me n-next time. I p-promise...”
Neal was still delirious. His mumbling degraded into senseless shuttering and chattering. Peter only caught bits and pieces but it painted an interesting picture. What had happened to Neal? Who had he been before Neal Caffrey? Should he call someone else? Should he call Jason? El had his number and people didn’t always survive things like this. He quickly curtailed that train of thought. No. Neal would be okay. That was when the paramedics got there and took over. As they carried him off, something else clicked for him. No wonder he connected with Evelyn so much. It registered that he hadn’t even seen Neal in short sleeves. His stomach turned uncomfortably again.
He walked into the hospital room a few hours later and Neal was already starting to look a little better. He was still that worrying brown tone almost like a dark tan. Now that he didn’t have any makeup on his face Peter could see several thin scars crisscrossing his cheeks and forehead. They were old and faint but definitely there. The large scoop of his hospital gown let Peter see the man scars he had seen as he undressed him. There were piles of heavy blankets on top of him as he spoke with one of the nurses.
“Well, it looks like you have a visitor, Mister Caffrey. I’ll let you know when Doctor Leslie gets here. I know she’ll want to take a look at you.”
“Thank you Cathy. I appreciate it. Hello Peter. Thank you for saving me there. It was a close one.”
He spoke so casually like he hadn’t been seconds from death. Peter wanted to tell him off for that, scream at him that it was so so close but he paused. It probably honestly wasn’t a big deal to Neal compared with the rest of the scars that littered his body. He didn’t seem overly concerned about the skin on full display now. He shivered again but he was looking much better even if he looked oddly tan.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Neal. So, do you know who’s responsible?”
“Yes.” It was spat out like a mouthful of sour milk.
“Unfortunately it’s from my neck of the woods. Oswald Cobblepot, has a freaky addiction to birds.”
“Never heard of him.”
Neal grinned a little too pointedly.
“Hence the signatures. You probably have. He goes by Penguin, one of the Gotham’s most infamous.”
“You’re joking.”
“Unfortunately I'm not.”
Okay. They could work with that. They had plenty of contacts that would be able to handle this but that was a problem for after Neal was alright again.
“How are you feeling?”
Neal sat up against the pillows and easily shifted the pile of blankets like they didn't weight at least twenty pounds.
“I’ll be better once Leslie isn't after my head.”
“Who?”
“She’s the family doctor. After my little break down a couple weeks ago she heard about it and wasn’t happy with me. I swear she has a sixth sense tuned to us. When she heard I got admitted it was the last straw and she told me not to go anywhere until she could see me.”
“And you’re listening?”
Neal shuddered again and this time it wasn’t due to the lingering cold.
“Jesus, Peter, I don’t have a death wish.”
Peter shook his head at Neal's antics but let a smile settle over his face. He was glad Neal was okay and yet his eyes kept lingering on the marred skin. He didn’t think he was staring too obviously until Neal spoke up and laid his hand over his own exposed chest. Even the backs of his hands were crisscrossed in too light lines.
“I’m alright, Peter. These, these are old. Scars aren’t who a person is. They’re just footnotes of our lives.”
They sat in companionable quiet for a moment before Peter couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know.
“So, how was your weekend?”
Neal smiled that slightly too wide smile that Peter was growing more and more fond of. Oh it was still scary, just on the edge of inhuman, but it meant the real Neal was bleeding through in favor of Neal Caffrey.
“Evelyn and I had an enlightening discussion at a wonderful little wine bar but ultimately we decided to just be friends. We might go out again though. She has a fascinating understanding of the post impressionistic era of Europe and its effect on the political movements of the time.”
Peter blinked as he tried to make sense of that. They were all words he understood but he wasn't sure he understood them in context.
“You talked fancy paintings over wine? Sorry you didn’t get any then.”
He’d been mostly joking as he leaned back but Neal just grinned wolfishly.
“Now, Peter, I didn’t say that.”
His eyes twinkled darkly and for once Peter didn’t think life was entirely unfair. Neal may have a way of getting almost anything he wanted but maybe he’d paid at least some of his dues already. They were interrupted when the door opened to reveal an elder woman of average height with a short smart hair cut and grey eyes filled with a fury that had even Peter feeling cowed.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the prodigal son at last.”
Neal chuckled weakly.
“I would argue that’s really more Jaybird’s thing. I mean, I actually get dessert at family dinners at least every other week.”
She marched up to him and pulled a stethoscope from her pocket.
“Shut up and let me look at you. You want him in here or not?”
That was when it registered to Peter that legally if Neal was awake Peter didn’t have any right to be there. Neal could toss him and there was nothing he could do about it. But Neal shook his head.
“It’s fine. He can stay, Leslie. Peter is a good man and a good friend. He’s the one that saved me from one of Penguin’s boobytraps earlier.”
She huffed her cheeks out as she listened to his heart and counted his pulse.
“I swear on all things good, I don’t know who’s worse. Bruce is bad enough but your siblings might actually be worse. Then there’s the boys they’ve picked up! Do any of you actually care about your health? Wallace doesn’t seem to think he ever needs to visit a doctor. Don’t even get me started on Roy and that alien of theirs. Oh and someone needs to occasionally remind those Kent boys that even they can get sick sometimes.”
She ranted and raved but Neal knew it came from a place of love. She really did care for them all and she was uniquely familiar with his personal biological quirks.
“And have you been sitting under your sun lamps for at least three hours a day?”
He blushed but instead of the red tone Peter expected it was more a green mixed with that dark yellow brown. It was a strange look but not a bad one.
“Not as much as I should. I am trying not to be too obvious and one of my friends makes our paranoia look cute.”
She did not appear impressed by that as she stood back a moment a crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well, you’re alive at any rate. You can go home only if you promise to sit under your lamps for at least six hours a day. Your body is going to need it to recover from this. Were you anyone else, you would have died. I mean that Neal Isley. Lamps. Or I’m keeping you here for a week.”
“A WEEK?!”
She narrowed her eyes, knowing full well that the hospital could never hold him if he didn't really want to stay there.
“And I’ll make sure your dear father gets the bill personally tonight which means you’ll get to deal with the rest of your family dropping by to check on you and make sure you stay in bed.”
“I’ll be good. I promise! I’ll even get a lamp for my desk at work!”
She nodded, pleased with the outcome.
“Good. I will hear about it if you don’t. You can go disappear now like all of you insist on doing all the time.”
Neal stared down at his hands ruefully and huffed in good humor.
“What can I say, Gotham likes us.”
As if to prove his point, the velvet shadows around him blanketed him and he seemed to vanish into them for a moment before receding with a little purr. It wasn’t quite like a true sound and didn’t make any actual noise but something that resonated in Peter’s skull like a sound would. He wasn’t sure how to put it other than that it sounded like an echo of a bouncing happy opera. The woman, Doctor Leslie, was not impressed.
“Don’t I know it. Some of us aren’t quite so blessed so go do your thing then.”
Peter dragged his attention to the elder woman but still glanced back at Neal.
“Thank you for checking him out. Is there anything I need to make sure he does while he heals?”
She lifted a stern brow and eyed him up and down.
“Make sure he gets those sun lamps he promised he would put on his desk. I don’t care who he runs around as, if he doesn’t make sure he gets enough sun I’m going to personally make sure he stays on bedrest. Or better yet, I’ll make sure that dottering mother hen of an older brother makes sure he stays on bedrest.”
Peter nodded and took careful note of the instructions. He was curious as to why Neal needed to sit under a sun lamp like a reptile but he wasn't going to question it if a doctor that seemed to be familiar with his medical history said that was what he needed.
“I’ll make sure he does exactly what the doctor orders.”
Her full scrutiny was turned on him now.
“Who are you?”
Agent Peter Burke. I’m the one in charge of Neal while he’s out of prison.”
She snorted at some kind of inside joke.
“Well you best take care of that boy but I don’t envy you. I’ve known his father for decades and I know the rest of that family of his. Keeping them out of trouble is a real task and a half. If anything happens to Neal there will be hell to pay. You take care of yourself, Neal. I’ll make sure you can get discharged as soon as you’re ready. I hope not to see you any time soon.”
Then she was gone and Neal sat up with a little sigh.
“Well, now you’ve met the only woman that’s managed to keep my entire family in line.”
Peter shivered. She may have just been an elder woman but there was nothing on Earth that was going to get him to act against her.
“So, sunlamps?”
Neal blushed and that 'tan' darkened.
“Yeah. It’s a... health condition I was born with. That’s why I started turning brown in the cold. Sunlight really helps.”
“Where did you meet a woman like that?”
“She went to school with my grandfather. She’s been there since the very beginning for us and put up with a lot. If you think my scars are bad you should see the rest of the family.”
He whistled comically. It had been something said with the lightness of jest but there was something in the way he said it that he probably wasn’t supposed to pick up on that told him he was being serious. His stomach lurched and twisted uncomfortably again at the thought and made a decision.
“It’s a good thing they don’t define people.”
Neal’s too wide smile was everything Peter needed to see in that moment to know everything was going to be alright. Then they could sort out the Penguin.