A/N: So I found this on my computer. The last installment isn't finished yet, but I figured if I started posting the first four installments and got some good feedback it would encourage me to finish it. So here it is, my first 4-and-1 fanfic.

Standard disclaimers apply.

1-Friendship

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

Peter glanced at Neal from beside the house. Neal stood in the center of the yard staring up at the roof with an ominous expression. The normally impeccably dressed con man was wearing a tattered pair of jeans (on loan from Peter), a crisp dark blue shirt Neal swore was old and could be parted with, and a pair of tennis shoes (also on loan from Peter). And as much as Peter hated to admit it, even in his "down clothes" Neal still could rival a male super model.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of a little hard work," Peter said with a smirk as he pulled the leather working gloves over his hands.

"It's not the work I have a problem with," Neal said cryptically.

Peter regarded him with a suspicious look as he crossed the yard to the shed and grabbed the ladder. He placed it on the beside the second ladder that was propped against the gutter. Slinging a roll of Christmas lights over his arm, he grabbed the pair of gloves on the air conditioning unit and tossed them to Neal.

"Well, whatever your issue is, you promised me you would help me with this. We can get it done a lot faster if you quit griping and lend me a hand."

Neal deftly caught the gloves one handed without looking away from the ominous roof. Peter shook his head and grabbed the rails of the ladder, lifting himself effortlessly up the first three steps. He glanced over his shoulder and stopped.

"Neal," he called to the immobile man, "get your ass moving."

Neal startled and looked meekly at him. Reluctantly, he headed to the ladder and Peter shook his head, continuing his ascent. Why did I just sound like my father? Peter wondered absently, remembering every winter just after the first frost when the two of them would be out in the yard. Fond memories, Peter mused.

He reached the gutter and crawled easily on to the roof. Beside him, Neal climbed the ladder slowly and cautiously. Peter had unrolled half of the lights by the time Neal had reached the top of his ladder. But once there, Neal gripped the gutter tightly with both hands and refused to let go.

"Neal," Peter called.

"Hmm." Neal muttered.

"You have to let go to get up here."

"I know."

"So why don't you?"

Neal slid his eyes up to Peter, his entire body rigid and tense. Peter smirked as he noticed Neal's hitched breathing, as if he were afraid even the expansion of his lungs would topple him over. Finally, Neal had made contact with Peter, more or less as he hadn't lifted his head even a centimeter.

"What do you think?"

"Gotta height problem?" Peter asked, smirking.

Neal glared, "You're enjoying this way too much."

Peter chuckled, "It isn't every day I see you actually seem human. Why didn't you say anything?"

"It's childish."

Peter's smirk instantly vanished. There was something in the way the two words were delivered with absolute certainty and the empty, monotonous tone that unsettled Peter's stomach.

"The hell it is," Peter said, causing Neal to startle slightly.

"What?" Neal asked, blinking with confusion. The gruff tone Peter had used had lightened his fear enough that he'd lifted his head to watch his partner.

"You heard me," Peter said, "Fear is never childish, Neal. It's real-real enough to paralyze, to drive a person. It's unpredictable, uncontrollable and personal, but it sure ain't childish. Who the hell told you it was?"

"My step father," Neal muttered, then jerked his head up as he realized he'd said more than he'd meant to. He cleared his throat and glanced at Peter, "I appreciate what you're doing, Peter, but could we continue this conversation on the ground?"

"Yeah, no problem," Peter conceded and started for his ladder. A sudden thought struck him and he stopped to stare at Neal, "Wait a minute. You've done plenty of things from heights. You jumped out of a freaking judge's window to land on an awning. And you expect me to believe that you can't handle a few feet up on a ladder?"

Neal looked up at him meekly, "Peter, I-"

"This is a con, isn't it?" Peter asked, "You're playing me so you don't have to work."

"That isn't what-"

"Forget it, Neal," Peter said as he grabbed the back of Neal's shirt and hauled him up beside him, "You aren't getting out of this. You promised and I'm not letting you con your way out of it."

"Peter, please, I swear to you this isn't a con," Neal said, "I stopped trying to con you a while ago. Just please, let me get down."

"No," Peter said, his frustration with the younger man building it's way to anger, "not happening. Now stop whining, and get to work."

Peter turned away from him and started unraveling the rest of the lights, draping them along the gutter. For a few tense moments, the only sound in the back yard was Peter's frustrated sighs as he reached irritating knots. The frustration mounted when Peter realized that Neal still hadn't moved.

He looked up, intent on giving the con a piece of his mind. Then he saw his partner and all frustration melted away. He watched as Neal tentatively reached out his right hand to grip the gutter and get to his knees. Once he had his knees beneath him, things seemed to grow difficult. In order for him to secure the lights to the roof, Neal would have to let go of the gutter completely. The mere thought seemed to paralyze Neal. His face drained of all color and a light sweat broke out on his face.

"Neal," Peter called gently, "you alright?"

Neal didn't answer, but Peter saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. Peter knew Neal was an unbelievable con man, the best of the best. He had a natural gift of deceiving people with a gentleness and charm that couldn't be resented. But if Neal was acting now, then he wasn't human. No one was that good.

"Okay, alright, I believe you. We can get down now," Peter said.

Neal opened his mouth and licked his lips. He whispered, "I don't think I can."

Crap, Peter thought, look what you did now, Burke.

"Alright, I'm coming over there," Peter said and promptly dropped his lights, nearly tripping over them. He crossed the roof in a few shuffling steps and knelt beside Neal.

"Alright, Neal, I'm going to hold you steady so you can climb down to the ladder, okay?"

Neal stiffened, "I can't, Peter. I'm sorry, I just-"

"Neal, you can't stay up here forever."

"Sure I can," Neal said with a ruthless laugh, "I've done it before."

Peter furrowed his brow, "What?"

Neal didn't answer him, but instead took a deep breath, "Okay, I'm going."

Peter gripped Neal's arm tightly and watched as Neal very slowly lowered his right foot down to the top rung. That one step seemed to sap all of Neal's energy as he leaned his head against the roof and started to shake.

"Neal, come on, just a few more steps and you'll be down. You can do it."

Slowly, Neal moved his left foot down to the next rung. Peter gripped the ladder tightly, formulating a plan of action to get Neal to talk this out once he was on the ground. There was a story behind this situation, he could feel it. The question was how to get Neal to share. Then Neal's foot slipped.

Peter felt the ladder rattle, heard Neal yelp though it sounded painfully like a whimper, and watched helplessly from his bird's eye view. Neal gripped Peter's hands hard enough to break bone and replaced his foot on the rung. He didn't move.

"It's okay, Neal. Just keep going."

Neal, with his upper body still on the roof, only shook his head. Peter frowned, feeling completely helpless. Elizabeth would be better at this than him but she was out shopping and it would be hours before she came home. Neal couldn't be up there that long in only a long sleeved shirt. He'd freeze in the cool autumn air.

"What did you mean earlier?" Peter asked, "When you said you'd done it before?"

"Do you really think now is the time?"

"I can't think of anything else to do. You're the one that won't go down."

"It's exactly what I said. I stayed on the roof."

"For how long?"

"A while."

Peter looked at Neal, wishing he could read his thoughts. He thought about the irrational fear Neal had of heights but only when it came to roofs it seemed. Then, suddenly, what he'd said about his step father came back to Peter's mind and he understood.

"What did he do to you, Neal?"

The younger man's shoulders hunched and he sighed heavily, "He didn't do anything. He didn't have to."

"Were you scared of heights as a kid?"

"Yeah, but Jake wasn't a man that believed in fear. For anyone."

"What happened?"

"I threw a Frisbee on the roof and he wanted me to get it myself to show me how much work it was to get it down," Neal cleared his throat, "I was fine until I got the Frisbee and looked down off the roof. I got really dizzy and scared. I couldn't move. I, um, started freaking out and…stuff."

Crying, Peter thought.

"How old were you?"

"Nine."

Jesus, Peter cringed, Who in their right mind sends a nine year old onto the roof?

"Jake didn't like that either, so he decided to teach me a lesson," Neal said and chuckled ruefully, "I could come down when I stopped crying and acted my age. He took the ladder and went inside."

"Jesus Ch- how long were you up there?"

"Twelve hours," Neal muttered, "My mother found me when she got off her second shift. I wasn't crying anymore, but I wasn't exactly there either."

"You blanked out."

"Yeah, but after that, heights weren't a problem. Except when I…"

"When you had to get on a roof," Peter concluded, "Jesus, Neal you should have said something."

"Yeah, like what? Hey, Peter, love to help out but I can't because of a repressed childhood trauma that is so ridiculous you'll laugh?"

Peter raised an eyebrow, "You hear me laughing?"

Neal glanced up at him, "No, can't say that I do."

"Didn't think so," Peter muttered, "but as enlightening as this is, we still have to get you down."

"I'd greatly appreciate that."

"Alright, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to count to three and your going to move your foot down. Don't think about it, just do it. Okay?"

"Peter, are you sure this-"

"Neal, do you trust me?"

Neal's only response was to sigh and hang his head. Peter took that as a yes and smiled.

"One…two…three…"

Neal stepped down, swallowing hard. Peter grinned.

"Good, now the right…"

Neal stepped again and now his arms were the only thing on the roof, still clasped tightly in Peter's hands. But the difficult part had come up now. In order for Neal to go down, Peter had to let go.

"Peter-"

"Neal, you've got this. All you have to do is let go of my hand and grab the ladder. That's it."

Slowly, Neal nodded, and tentatively released his hold on one of Peter's arms, snaking it down to grasp the cold metal of the ladder. Peter sighed and pulled his arm back, waiting patiently for Neal to gather his courage to move the other hand.

Finally, he let go.

"You can do this, Neal. Just breathe. One step at a time."

Neal chuckled, "You are never going to let me live this down."

"I might. If you ever get down."

"Alright, here it goes."

Neal stepped down, and Peter felt the lights beside him move. He watched as the line of lights, which had somehow gotten wrapped around Neal's ankle and remained unnoticed by both of them, caught on the gutter and tightened around Neal's leg. He had a moment of clarity, of the undeniable chain of events that was about to follow, and then Neal slipped.

Peter grabbed the lights as Neal tumbled backward, his heart suddenly in his throat. He heaved back with all of his weight, falling flat on his ass as the lights tried to slice through his gloved hands. And then the lights jerked to a stop.

"Neal?"

Dear God, he's probably broken his neck.

Not willing to let the lights go just yet, Peter pulled them back as he leaned forward, hesitantly peering over the edge, afraid of what he'd find.

Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as he thought.

Neal hung inches off the ground, shirt rumbled around his chest, his hands flat on the lawn in a sort of awkward handstand. He looked up at Peter from under his arm, a relieved and amused smirk on his face.

"Nice catch," he said.

Peter grinned, "You can't do anything the normal way, can you?"

If Neal wasn't upside down, he probably would have shrugged.

Peter lowered him to the ground and then quickly scaled the ladder to the lawn. As he reached Neal's side, his friend was trying to stand but he was virtually exhausted. His knees wobbled as vertigo hit him and once more, Peter was right there to steady him as he fell back to his knees, Peter's hand between his shoulder blades.

"Easy, easy," Peter said encouragingly, "Take your time."

Neal inhaled deeply through his nose and let it out through his mouth. He looked at Peter and smiled, allowing color to return to his cheeks. There was a depth of gratitude lighting his eyes that Peter was practically compelled to squeeze his friend's shoulder.

"Next time," Peter said softly, "tell me you're scared."

"Next time," Neal said, smirking, "listen."

Peter nodded, accepting the truce, "Let's get inside and relax."

"Don't we have to put up the Christmas lights?"

"It can wait," Peter said, "The thing about fear is no matter the amount, it's always exhausting."

Neal raised an eyebrow at him, "What were you scared about?"

"Nothing, but talking the fear out of someone is exhausting too." Peter smirked, "and there's a game on I want to see."

Neal rolled his eyes, "Now who's conning who?"

Peter swiped at Neal's head and missed as he ducked and headed for the house chuckling.

A/N: The next installment will be uploaded in a couple of days. There isn't a terrible amount of H/C in the first few chapters, but I promise you the last chapter will be a doosie. And if you've read any of my other stuff, you know I will deliver.

Kudos.