Title: Box of Awesome
Author: sholio
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3300
Pairing: gen (background Peter/El)
Content notes: Post-finale; spoilers.
Summary: One day Neal Burke found a box in his parents' closet.




Neal Burke found the Awesome Box in the back of his parents' closet.

He wasn't technically supposed to be in his parents' closet; on the other hand, technically, he wasn't not supposed to be. The only things in his parents' bedroom that he Officially And In No Uncertain Terms was not allowed to touch were the gun safe with Daddy's gun in it, which was locked anyway, and the drawer in Mama's bedside table. (He was now old enough to have some vague inkling of what might be in that drawer and what grownups might use those kinds of things for, which meant he'd rather eat live frogs than look inside it.)

But the closet was not officially off limits. In evenings and on weekends, he generally had the run of the upstairs while the grownups did things downstairs -- not that he couldn't come down, or make them come up, but mostly it was fun to turn the whole upstairs into interesting and exciting kinds of places: different planets for flying to with a spaceship, or islands for sailing to, or rooms in a giant prison.

So the closet was currently a cave in Jurassic World when he hit the plastic T-rexes together a little too hard and fell into his mom's rack of shoes. Which, of course, fell over.

Neal listened for a minute, but he was pretty sure no one had heard anything; he'd acquired a good feel, over the years, for how much noise his parents could hear upstairs, which meant he was now excellent at keeping it between the boundaries of "not so quiet they need to come up and see what I'm doing" and "not so loud someone is going to be up to yell at me any minute". And this was probably on the okay side of the line. Probably.

He picked up the shoes, with an occasional pause to "RAR" dinosaur-style just in case they felt compelled to come up and see why he was being quiet. And while he was getting the shoes back where they ought to be, he noticed the box behind them, which he had never noticed before. So of course he had to see what was in it.

What was in it, come to find out, was TOTAL AWESOMENESS.

The box was full of the sort of things that adults didn't tend to keep around. At least, Neal's adults didn't keep that kind of thing. Mama was very strict about throwing out things that she considered "junk" and Neal considered "everything that's good about life". But this box was full to the brim with just exactly that kind of awesome stuff.

Neal didn't dare look through it too long, but after that he had to keep sneaking back to peek inside, and eventually he began taking items back to his room with him. Not that he was stealing. He was only moving them from one part of the house to another. But clearly, if the box was hidden in the closet, his parents probably wouldn't want to answer questions about it. And he'd discovered the world's best treasure trove of all the props he needed for all the make-believe games ever.

There was an old wine cork and a ferry schedule and a shiny leather wallet; there were keys that looked like they opened mysterious treasure boxes; there was a big map, folded up tiny, on which someone had drawn X's and circled things in red ink, like they were playing Treasure Island. Ticket stubs, a rubber band ball, pieces of glass, a watch band with a hidden secret little part that slid back ... every time he reached into the box, he brought out something new and cool.

Over the course of a long, dreary winter with lots of playing-inside time, he ended up taking most of the awesomer stuff out of the box. By that point he was getting a lot less careful. And that was how he ended up with everything spread out on the floor, playing Treasure Island with the map, when his dad walked in.

His dad looked at the stuff on the floor, and looked at Neal, and his face got red.

Then some yelling happened.

Then his mom came in, and his parents yelled at each other.

Then Neal's dad told him to find all the stuff and put it back, and after that, his parents went downstairs for a Discussion.

Neal thought about running away, because that would totally show them, and he had a ferry schedule and an excellent map.

However, he was still trying to figure out which dinosaurs to take with him -- because he probably couldn't carry all of them if he had to walk a long ways, and he needed to leave room for extra socks and his favorite mysterious key from the stupid Not-So-Awesome Box -- when his mom tapped on the door and then came in. "Hi, honey. Can we talk?"

Why did grownups ask questions like that when "no" was never an answer? "Okay," Neal said, hastily stuffing his getaway backpack under the bed. His mom sat on the bed, so he did too. She hugged him some. He decided he didn't really want to run away.

"You know, your dad's not really mad at you."

"He sounded mad," Neal said, once again considering the running-away plan.

"I know. But it's about things that happened before you were born, really." His mom pursed her lips, like she did when she was trying to figure something out, and then she said, "You know about Neal Caffrey, right? The old friend of your dad's that you're named after."

Neal nodded and sat up straighter. Maybe he was finally going to hear about the mysterious Other Neal. Neither of his parents would talk about him. All Neal knew was that Other Neal had been his dad's really good friend and then had to go away before he was born, and neither of his parents had ever seen him again. Which was deeply mysterious even by adult standards. Even Aunt Diana wouldn't talk about it, and Aunt Diana would talk to him about everything.

Now that he was the mature age of eight, he'd started wondering whether "went away" was Adultspeak for "died", because that was more or less how they'd talked about Satchmo and the goldfish when he was little. But he liked to make up his own explanations, like Neal Caffrey was a bank robber and stole a bunch of money and Dad was going to arrest him, so Neal fled the country and that's why they would never talk about it. Or maybe Neal was a time traveler and had to go back to his real time, or maybe he was a spy and was on a long mission for the government in another country.

"Everything in that box was Neal's," his mom said. "Your dad and Neal ... okay, we've always told you that Neal went away, and I guess you've probably figured out that it's a lot more than that or he would've come back, right? The thing is, your dad and Neal ..." She thought again for a minute. "They had a fight," she said at last. "Sort of, in a way. This was long ago, before you were born. And I know we've always told you that you need to say you're sorry when you fight with someone. But what ended up happening is that your dad always waited for Neal to say something first, and Neal is probably waiting for your dad to do the same thing, and in the end, they never spoke to each other again."

"Oh," Neal said. Well, that was boring, compared to time travelers or spies or bank robbers. Just stupid adult stuff after all.

Still, Other Neal must have been a pretty cool person, if he had all that neat stuff. Neal could see why his dad would have wanted to be friends with him. Neal thought that maybe, when he put it all back, he would slip one of his dinosaurs into the box as well. Not the T-rex, of course, but one of the better ones, the ones that only Mikey and Theo were allowed to play with because anyone else might break them. Other Neal was probably just the sort of person who'd appreciate it.

... except Other Neal would never see it, because he was never coming back. Neal thought about that, and wondered if that was why his dad was so sad all the time. His dad was not a particularly happy person. Neal could make him smile, and Mama could, but he didn't seem to smile any other times. Not much anyway. Having a fight with someone and then never making up could do that, he supposed. It was very sad to think about. Imagine never seeing Mikey or Theo again.

"So it's not you at all," his mom was saying. "We really should have talked with you about it before, but it's a touchy topic, for your dad especially. Do you have any questions?"

Neal thought about it, and shook his head.

"Well, if you do have questions, you can feel free to ask me, but ask me before asking your dad, okay? It makes your dad sad to talk about it."

And frequently at other times, Neal was pretty sure now. "Okay," he said.

So after his mom left, his dad came up to his room and hugged him. His dad didn't smile a lot, but he did give good hugs whenever Neal wanted them, which some kids' dads didn't do. "Sorry about that, bud," he said. "Your mom's right. It wasn't your fault, and I shouldn't have yelled at you for it. Tell you what."

He went and got the box from the closet and put it on the floor. Neal hesitated, not sure if he was expected to put things away in the box or not. Then his dad sat down next to it. For a minute he ran his hand around the rim of the box, a light stroke that was almost affectionate, and he had that sad, faraway look that he got sometimes. Then he looked up at Neal seriously, man to man. "You've been having a lot of fun playing with this stuff, right?"

Neal wasn't quite sure if that was a trick question, but his dad didn't ask trick questions a whole lot, so he nodded.

His dad took a deep breath and touched the rim of the box again, lightly. "There's no point in hiding this stuff away. It won't do anybody any good that way. I guess I've been holding onto it because ... well, I don't really know what I thought. That I could hold onto something that's gone, I guess. But it's really just junk --"

Of course, Neal thought; everything interesting was junk to adults.

"-- and if you're having fun with it, that's a lot better than having it collect dust in a corner of the closet somewhere. It's all yours, kiddo. You can have it."

Neal went through several stages of delight before finally his mature eight-year-old side surfaced and he managed to say, maturely, "Won't Neal want it back?"

His dad flinched. "No," he said, "no, this was never really ... Your mom told you this stuff was Neal's, right? I mean, Neal Caffrey's."

Neal nodded.

"Well, this isn't really Neal's stuff exactly. It's more like stuff about Neal, or stuff that was Neal's that he didn't want anymore." His dad rubbed his temples like he had a headache. "And I guess when I put it that way, I sound like some kind of weird stalker. But I guess what it comes down to is, this stuff doesn't belong to anybody anymore, and since you want it, then it should be yours. And I shouldn't have yelled at you about it."

Neal sat crosslegged on the floor, emulating his dad. Daddy still looked like he had a headache, or maybe like he was sad, or tired -- which was how he looked a lot. "Daddy," Neal said, and his dad looked up from the box. "Do you miss him? The other Neal."

"Yeah," Daddy said, and he looked even more tired. "I do, kiddo."

"Maybe he'd come back, if you told him so."

"I can't," his dad said. "I don't know where he is."

"You find people," Neal pointed out. His dad was the very best at it. "You could find him."

His dad's gaze fell on the map, which was still spread open, with its X's and red circles. Then he jerked his eyes away, and shook his head. "No, bud. I couldn't."

"You mean you won't," Mama's voice said from the doorway.

Neal's dad jumped. So did Neal. She was leaning against the door frame. Neal wasn't sure how long she'd been there. His mom was very sneaky like that.

"He's got a life somewhere, El," his dad said, with that same tired sound in his voice. "And we've got a life here. I'm not going to risk that, for him or us. I really am trying to ..." His hands flexed, opening and closing as if grasping after a thought he couldn't quite catch. "To change," he said at last.

"I know you are," his mom said. She sounded terribly sad, too. "And I love you for it. But all you're doing is changing yourself into a person you don't like."

Neal scuttled out of the way just in case his parents were going to start fighting again, but they didn't. Instead his mom sat down next to his dad, and put her arm around his dad's waist and rested her head on his shoulder for a minute. Then she put out an arm, and Neal came to be hugged too.

"So," his mom said after they were all done hugging. "Can I look through the box with you guys?"

So they did, and his dad told stories about some of the things in the box. Some, he wouldn't talk about. But Neal's favorite key, his dad said, had opened a very special box, a music box, a long time ago. And there were other stories like that.


***

Neal didn't think about the Awesome Box much for a while. It was summer break, finally, and there was lots of stuff to do, and Aunt Diana came to visit for a while with Theo, so that was fun too.

Near the end of summer break, when the days weren't quite so hot and it seemed like fall was right around the corner, he came back from soccer practice with Mikey and Mikey's mom Mrs. Cho, as usual. Mrs. Cho dropped him off on the sidewalk outside his house and then waited, like she always did, 'til he was at the door and had opened the door so she knew he'd got in safely. From the window of the car, Mikey gave an apologetic shrug, like to say, Moms, right? Neal shrugged back, then waved at Mrs. Cho, and went into the house.

He came in on the sound of grownups laughing. It was like when Aunt Diana visited, or one of his mom's friends from work. His parents were at the table with a stranger, and they were all happy and smiling, with glasses of wine even though it was only soccer-practice end time.

"Is this Neal?" the stranger asked. He wasn't anyone Neal had seen before. He had dark hair with little streaks of gray at the temples, and very bright blue eyes, and he was wearing a tie even though it was Saturday.

"Yeah," Neal's dad said. "Hey, bud, come here. There's someone you need to meet."

His dad was almost like a different person. He was smiling and happy and .... light, Neal thought. He'd seen his dad like that very rarely. When Neal got to play on the soccer team for the first time, his dad looked like that, watching him. But usually there was something heavy about him, something that dragged a little bit.

He didn't look like that today. And because of that, Neal thought he might know who the visitor was.

When Neal came around to the table, feeling a little shy but trying not to be, the visitor held out a hand. "Hi, Neal. I'm Dan. I'm an old friend of your parents."

"Oh," Neal said. He wiped his hands, still dirty from soccer practice, on his shorts and then politely shook the grownup's hand. So this wasn't ... but of course, that was dumb. It wouldn't be.

His dad ruffled his hair. "Hey, bud, why don't you run upstairs and take a shower and change? We're gonna grill steaks in the backyard, and there's some of your mom's famous cherry pie for later."

"Okay," Neal said, and he dashed off to grab his soccer bag where he'd dropped it in front of the door. Then he remembered all the times his parents -- well, mostly his mom -- had told him not to run off without being polite. "Nice to meet you, Dan!"

"You too," Dan said, and he smiled. His eyes crinkled when he smiled in a way that made Neal think he was an okay person. Maybe even the sort of person who appreciated keys and treasure maps and other cool stuff.

Stopping on the first step, with his bag slung over his shoulder, Neal asked, "Dan, do you like dinosaurs?"

Neal's dad laughed like that was the funniest thing in the world, and Neal had to give him a curious look. His dad was so different. It was like something that had been pressing him down Neal's whole life had evaporated.

"Come on, who doesn't like dinosaurs?" Dan said. "Has your dad told you about the time someone stole a dinosaur and he had to find it?"

Neal gave his dad an open-mouthed look of disbelief. Then he frowned at Dan, because why on earth wouldn't his dad have told him an awesome story like that? Maybe Dan was the kind of annoying adult who liked to lie to kids and then call it teasing.

"Seriously, Peter, you never told him about the dinosaur?"

"It never came up," his dad said, a little uncomfortably.

Dan gave him a look that made Dan look, for a minute, an awful lot like Neal's mom sometimes looked when she was a little bit upset with his dad.

"Someone stole a dinosaur?" Neal asked. "Really? A real dinosaur?"

"Neal," said Neal's mom, and for just an instant, Dan glanced at her, like it was some kind of reflex. "Why don't you go ahead and get cleaned up, and then you can help me with the salad. You can hear all about your dad and the dinosaur while we make dinner."

Neal went on upstairs, a bit reluctantly, but he had to stop on the stairs and frown at Dan one last time. Okay, sure, he said his name wasn't Neal, but isn't that exactly what you would say if you were a bank robber? Or a time traveler. And he sure did seem to know Neal's parents really well, for someone Neal had never seen or heard of before.

Neither of his parents noticed him watching -- their attention was wholly fixed on Dan, and his dad kept touching Dan while they were talking, just light little touches on the shoulder or arm, as if he had to keep making sure Dan was there. But Dan noticed. Nothing really changed in the way he acted, but Neal could tell, somehow, and when Neal's mom turned to pour some more wine, Dan's eyes flicked up to Neal and he smiled just a little. A secret smile. Just for the two of them.