When it rains, it pours

Author: melles
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Peter & Neal (friendship)
Word count: approx. 41,000
Spoilers: S4 - set sometime during the last few episodes
Summary: After Peter receives a phone call from his mother back in Ithaca, NY, he has some decisions to make. Neal offers his help, but things don't go as planned.

A/N: Hey there! I'm back!There it goes...my longest "White Collar" fan fic so far! First, and most important, a HUGE THANK YOU to Rainey13 for her amazing help with this one (again). You did a fantastic job! Thank you very much, my dear friend. Also, I really appreciate the constant encouragement from whitecollarlover while we talked about that story for hours and hours.

Okay, one more thing:

Remember, this is all for fun, so don't put every word in the balance. I thought, since the writers of White Collar produced some really nice plot holes and such in the past seasons, we shouldn't take everything too seriously, right?

Chapter 1

Ithaca, NY
Monday morning

William Burke sat at the kitchen table enjoying the breakfast with his wife Lucy, just like millions of other Americans, too on this Monday morning. However, unlike many other retirees, William still had the habit to get up early just like he was used to after working for almost 50 years. And although he didn't have to, he still worked part time in the company of his son Robert. His eldest son, Peter, had studied and built a successful career at the FBI. His second son had followed in his footsteps and worked in the construction industry. For several years now, Robert was self-employed and ran his own engineering firm.

Without any particular interest, he put his reading glasses on and ran his hand through his silver-gray beard while he paged through the newspaper. It was very hard for him today to stay focused. He'd felt tired and listless for several days. But he wouldn't admit it to his wife. As long he could think of, he was a hard working man. To be sick was out of the question. Minor injuries during his work on construction sites happened almost on a daily basis. The saying "Cowboy up" was an all-time favorite among his colleagues. Quickly this saying had found its way in his private life too, and his two sons Peter and Robert practically grew up hearing those words very often.

He smiled as he watched Lucy trying to make plans for the day with their grandchildren Amy and Jeremy. Currently a viral disease spread around the school; therefore, the facility was closed as a precaution for the rest of the week. Since their parents were working, Lucy had suggested looking after the children in the meantime.

"We could go to the Buttermilk Falls Park and have a picnic," Lucy said.

Jeremy was thrilled. "Yeah! We could throw some balls!" Much like his grandfather, father and uncle, the 12-year old boy was a huge fan of baseball.

"Oh, Grandma and I could join a guided tour," the 9-year old Amy spoke up. "I want the one where one learns to read tracks."

"Well, that sounds great. What do you think of it, Bill?" Lucy asked smiling. But her smile faded and she began to worry when she received no response. "Bill?"

"I'm sorry?" William looked up from the newspaper. He felt embarrassed because he caught himself not paying attention. He wasn't feeling well at the moment, but he blamed it on a low bloodstream. Maybe he had a cold coming on, though he didn't believe it. So far, he had been spared from serious illnesses, so why should it be any different now? Cowboy up, Burke!

Lucy looked at him attentively. "You look pale in the face. Are you feeling well?"

There was no way trying to deceive his wife. She knew him too well. After almost 50 years of marriage, she could read him like an open book. So he wasn't really surprised at all. "I feel a little dizzy," he said truthfully. "But don't worry. All I need is a cup of coffee and I'm as good as new."

"I can help you with the coffee," she nodded and poured him a cup. Then she checked her watch. "If we want to have a picnic, we should stock up."

The children were very enthusiastic and quickly cleared the dishes. "Can we join you?"

"Of course, you can." Lucy also stood up and walked to the sink. "Oh no," she sighed as she looked outside to the garden through the window. "Buddha is back on the tree." After a pause she added, "Again."

Buddha was a huge, heavy and ponderous black and white male cat and usually very calm and unflappable. Except when it came to birds - as soon as he spotted one, his animal instinct awoke and nothing could stop him hunting them. Well, almost nothing. As a rule, he made it ON the tree, but coming DOWN from it was a completely different story. William had to rescue him all the time with the help of a ladder.

"He still don't get it that he has no chance," William shook his head in disbelief and put away the newspaper. "I'll get him down later on."

"Be careful," Lucy said and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "We'll be back soon."

"Have a good time," he winked at her. "And don't empty the shop of its stock, okay?" His wife had the tendency to worry too much about the well-being of her loved ones. And especially when it came to their grandchildren, it was hard to keep her in check.

…

"You're one of a kind, pal," William grinned and leaned the ladder against the tree. The very next moment he had to lean against it himself and take deep breaths, because he felt dizzy again. Somehow he felt powerless and the sweat stood out on his forehead, although he hadn't done anything strenuous. After a few seconds, he slowly climbed up the ladder, taking one step after another and stopped after the fifth. In his time as a construction worker he had always been in a good shape. But since he primarily worked at the desk, the good home cooking by Lucy had affected his weight. Several times their family physician had pointed out that fact and told him to better watch his weight, but it was hard to hold back when it came to the traditional family recipes. The kids loved his sturdy build, since he made a great Santa Clause for Christmas. However, a few pounds less certainly wouldn't hurt. Next year he would start a diet. Most certainly.

"Come on, Buddha…," he muttered under his breath, but the cat made no attempt to move in any matter. Frustrated he shook his head and turned his eyes briefly to the neighboring property.

The house there had been empty for almost a year now and so slowly the thickets of the garden spread inexorably to the adjoining land. As far as he was concerned, the owner came out a few times a month to check on things, judging from the car that parked in the driveway from time to time. But the care of the garden seemed to have no priority for him. Instead, the man spent most evenings in the basement, since that was the only source of light coming that could be seen in the house by then. For a moment there, William thought he had seen movement inside the house. But the dirty panes of glass made it difficult to make things out for sure. Eyes narrowed, he leaned to the side to get a better view. Was he mistaken or did he see at least two figures in the house? And what kind of object was one of them holding in its hand? Seconds later, a small flash of light lit up the room. A shot!

Suddenly William felt hot and cold at the same time. His heart rate shot up and cold sweat stood on his forehead. But before he could react, he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder and chest region that spread over the whole arm. Startled, he tried to get back down, but his left arm was weak and useless. Shortly after the pain attack, his legs also failed. The world around him got black and he didn't register the impact as he fell down to the ground.

...

Curious by the barking of the chocolate brown Labrador Retriever owned by the Burkes, Mr. Cagle looked out of his window from the 2nd story. For years, William and Lucy had owned Labradors and all dogs had two things in common: all were named Spot and were well trained. Usually, the recent Spot didn't bark very often and that's why Mr. Cagle was wondering what was going on, because Spot was barking constantly for almost five minutes now. He pushed the window up and leaned forward, so he could call the dog. But after he had looked into the garden, his blood ran cold. He quickly picked up the phone.

"9-1-1 emergency call. How can I help you?"

"I need help immediately. I-I think my neighbor is…I don't know…he's laying on the ground and no longer moving!"

…

New York City
Mondaymorning

Neal would never have thought that it would be possible that one day he would be happy about going to the office. But after a week of staying at home due to a very nasty stomach flu, he was eager to get back to work. He had spent most of his time in bed, no, rather in the bathroom, and now his desire for distraction, if only in the form of stupid paperwork grew bigger with each minute passing. But even though he felt better, he wasn't back to his old self yet. He didn't complain, though. He just wanted to get outside again and enjoy the day. Well, as enjoyable as a day could be considering the job that waited for him consisted of reading through the stacks of mortgage fraud cases. Dressed immaculately as always with one of Byron's Devore suits and wearing the mandatory Fedora, Neal stood in front of June's house and waited for Peter to pick him up. Their conversations mostly had been held over the phone the last days and that's why he was looking forward to seeing Peter and speaking to him personally. In one hand he held a thermo cup with freshly brewed coffee of June's special Italian roast. Neal knew how much Peter liked that coffee. He sighed as he remembered that he had to forgo this pleasure for the time being. His stomach was still a little sensitive and he didn't want to push his luck. A look at his cell phone made him frown. Peter was late. And that was unusual. Probably a lot of traffic, Neal thought and shrugged. Well, there was a first time for everything.

Just as he was about to call Peter, Neal could see the Ford Taurus approaching and stopping next to him. "Good morning, Peter. You're late," he said reproachfully and sat on the passenger seat. Of course he had sensed the opportunity to rag about that fact and enjoyed it to the fullest.

Peter looked at him with narrowed eyes and muttered, "Thank you Sherlock for pointing out the obvious."

"Oh, someone in this car seems to be veeeery grumpy. Not getting enough sleep?" Neal asked chuckling. "Here, maybe this will cheer you up."

"Is that…?" Peter asked smiling and suddenly sounding much friendlier.

"Yes."

"June's Italian roast. Exactly what I need right now," Peter sighed and took the thermo cup, opened it and inhaled the scent with closed eyes.

"That bad?" Neal watched his partner closely. In fact, Peter looked exhausted.

"Worse", Peter replied, carefully taking a sip. "El is in San Francisco since last Saturday and the last week was…exhausting." Then he turned around. "No coffee for you?"

"No, not right now," Neal said and put a hand on his belly. "My stomach is still a bit sensitive. I'm sticking with tea for a few days."

"You even look thinner. Seems you've lost some weight. Are you sure you want to return to the office?"

"Peter, I'm touched by your concern, but yes, I'm sure. I can't stay at home any longer. That's almost like being-," he paused and shrugged.

"Like being in prison," Peter ended the sentence for Neal. "I understand. There weren't many people around you the last week."

"I didn't want someone to catch the virus. No worry, I'm fine. Sure, I was on my own. But I was so weak most of the time that I couldn't do much otherwise. If I wasn't in the bathroom, I was asleep in the bed."

"Still I wish I could have done more."

Neal shook his head. "It's okay. Besides, you called at least once a day. You even brought food. It was very much appreciated, thank you."

"It was the least I could do," Peter nodded and then added quietly, "Moreover, El wanted to know how you were doing."

Neal grinned. "You missed me, admit it. Elizabeth is just a lame excuse."

"No!"

"Peter, I've talked with Jones."

"Okay," Peter finally conceded. "I've missed you." He instantly lifted his index finger to stop Neal from replying something witty. "No, let me rephrase that. I've missed your expertise. We just can't crack the Reynolds case."

"What luck that I'm back now. After all I'm, and I quote, 'a technological virtuoso with an encyclopedic knowledge'." This statement was underlined with one of his striking boyish grins. He would never get tired of repeating the quote from a syllabus of a college class.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, I'm so happy you're back."

…

Even though Peter would never admit it (because that would only lead his partner to constantly tease him), Neal had been right. Peter had missed him. In all the years of their collaboration, the initial skepticism had turned into a real friendship. Although there had been many downs, the ups were still clearly in the majority. In professional matters, the deal between them was more than worth it. Other divisions envied over the solve rate of almost 95%. And to be honest, Peter was enjoying this. And in a private matter, although their trust issue wasn't completely out of the way, he was proud of the friendship between them. Yeah, Peter had missed Neal. As a colleague, whose knowledge was essential for solving crimes. He missed Neal's smart ideas (even if not all of them were legal). And he had missed Neal as a friend, who, despite his criminal past, always acted loyal and helpful. Although Neal some days was annoying like a little brother or rebellious like a teenager. Still, he was a great companion.

Because they were already running late, a few more minutes wouldn't hurt and so Peter took several more sips before he tucked the cup away and started the car.

"So," Neal leaned back, still grinning. "What's new, except that you can't solve any other case without my expertise?"

"Somehow I have the feeling that I will hear that phrase more often today," Peter mumbled and focused on the road. "What's new? Not much," he added.

"Considering that there's nothing new, you seem rather exhausted."

"Didn't sleep much. We've been working overtime."

"Really? I believe it's because Elizabeth isn't at home."

Sometimes it was scary how well Neal did know him. Nevertheless, he didn't want to admit it. "I'm not home alone for the first time and I'm very capable to look after myself."

"All right," Neal grinned. "You're lost without Elizabeth. I'm sure she has prepared a meal for each day she's gone."

"Hey! I CAN cook."

"Putting a pot roast into the oven doesn't count as cooking. And for your information, the last one was far too dry. Even you had to admit it."

"This has nothing to do with it. Sometimes things like that happen."

"If you say so." Neal was still grinning. "You are in a complete tizzy. You even ran late today. And you're in a foul mood."

"I'm not in a foul mood," Peter shot back, grumbling. "I'm just…sleep-deprived." And he knew exactly why. Neal had been right. He missed El. Sleeping in the big bed without her felt somehow strange. Since her kidnapping by Matthew Keller, he had a hard time letting her out of his sight. Even though he knew that she was safe, he found it difficult to come to terms with the situation.

"Whatever you say. And eyes on the road, okay? I haven't been fighting for a week to overcome that virus infection only to die in a stupid car accident."

TBC…