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Every Scrap of You

Summary:

Neal doodles ALL the time, on everything.

Notes:

The title was taken from Taylor Swift’s song Marjorie about losing her grandmother. Particularly the line “[I] Should've kept every grocery store receipt, ‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me.” I lost both my grandparents in 2020, and going through their house very much felt like a mad dash to keep every scrap of them that I could.

Work Text:

Peter had learned to recognize Neal’s handwriting and doodle style during the chase. It was Mozzie’s never-ending headache and Peter’s delight that in this one area, it was very difficult for Neal not to create a trail of doodles left behind on receipts, napkins, scrap papers, and even hotel walls. Neal sends Peter hand-drawn birthday cards as a joke. Peter keeps them, thinking it’s done in arrogance but enjoying them anyway. He only later discovers how little Neal values his own art.

Peter finds some of Neal’s doodles in the office within two days of his FBI employment. It’s an unexpected rush of nostalgia. He begins to gloat but then thinks better of it that first week. Soon enough it becomes his headache. Doodles everywhere. Not just scrap papers on his desk, napkins, and receipts, but case files, Neal’s reports, Jones’ reports (not Diana’s), hotel walls, Peter’s desk top background (how?), Blake’s cast when he wrecked his bike, and frequently anyone’s unguarded paper cups. It seemed now that the FBI wasn’t chasing him, Neal had completely stopped any efforts at self-control. No matter how many times Peter lectured Neal about professionalism, it had no effect. Peter began to wonder if it was a bit of a compulsion.

When Peter mentioned this to Mozzie, the smaller man sighed forcefully and then went on a twelve minute rant that began with meddling FBI agents taking advantage of Neal’s weaknesses, and somehow ended with Roswell before Neal and El came back with the groceries they’d bought to make dinner together for the four of them. Peter gratefully let it go. The drawings were beginning to grow on him again. It was becoming endearing that Neal seemed unable to stop doodling everywhere like a little kid.

One additional silver lining, was that with all the time spent at the Burke’s house, Neal’s doodles and drawings began to pile up. Between El snatching them up as soon as Neal was done with them, and Neal leaving 1 -3 doodles an evening, they were beginning to be everywhere. El began to surreptitiously leave random sheets of higher quality drawing paper and art pencils within reach of Neal whenever he and Peter were particularly focused on a case they’d brought home. Sometimes El got random shapes, sometimes a bank floor plan, and sometimes an absent-minded work of art. Neal was genuinely embarrassed when El actually framed his sketch of a cabin he and Kate had stayed at in the cascades and hung it in the kitchen.

(Secretly Peter snatched a few of his own doodles, and began keeping nice paper and pencils in his office too.)

When Mozzie caught him grabbing a drawing of a fountain, he accused Peter of amassing evidence for the FBI. “Evidence of what? You’re just sorry you didn’t spot it first.”

The drawing disappeared out of Peter’s pocket later that night, confirming Peter’s suspicions.

Once when he had to swing by Hugh’s house, Peter saw a framed drawing of a galloping horse swerving toward the viewer in their living room. Upon closer inspection, Peter saw that the life-like drawing was done in ball-point pen on FBI letterhead which the frame almost hid. It was Neal’s. Blake and Diana had taken on the habit of slipping Neal blank paper and pens during briefings and then slyly spiriting their prizes away after the meeting. Peter caught Jones copying one of his case reports that Neal has doodled a cat chasing a butterfly onto. Jones planned to clean off all the “FBI stuff” in photoshop and give it to his grandma. Peter noted some suspiciously Neal-like artwork in June’s house, both drawings and paintings. Peter debated asking her how she swung the latter.

After Neal’s death, Peter kept finding drawings for months, each bringing a fresh wave of grief. But he saved every one of them like they were gold. Like they were precious final scraps of his friend. Something tangible to keep. He and El framed some and hung them up. Others were eventually placed in a scrapbook. Peter found himself unable to let go of even a receipt that Neal had doodled nonsense on. An irrational part of Peter hoped to go on finding Neal’s doodles forever.

Eventually there weren’t anymore drawings to be found.

Until one day a bottle of Boudreaux appeared on Peter’s front steps bearing a sketch of a key in that achingly familiar style.