Only In Time

This is my first White Collar fic. I wrote this in something like 4 hours at unbelievably not fun hours of the morning. Hope it sounds okay. Characters aren't mine. Comments are always, always awesome. Enjoy!

It takes Agent Peter Burke three years, one month, and eighteen days to catch Neal Caffrey. It's one of his first cases in the White Collar Crime Unit. In that time, he becomes the planet's foremost expert on all things relating to the alleged con-man/art thief/talented forger/and so on and so on – from his shoe size, to how he likes his coffee. For a while, he is all about Neal Caffrey. Hell, the man can think like Neal Caffrey, knows where he would run, what he would do, what he wouldn't.

And so, he catches him.

He does it without drawing his gun – knows Neal didn't like them, even then – and alone.

"Gotta tell you, Caffrey, this is a day I don't think I'll ever forget." He'd says, as he leads his handcuffed and Mirandized arrestee out of the building and to the waiting FBI truck. "Not for a long, long time."

Neal shakes his head, can't believe he's been caught. "Likewise, Agent Burke."

The fact that he spent so long getting inside of Neal's head, learning every trick and trade - but never the card tricks, never could figure those out - that Caffrey was fond of, that's the reason that he gets the call from the US Marshals exactly three years, eight months and two days after he watches the biggest catch of his career be sentenced to four years in Super Max.

That's the reason he finds Caffrey within six hours and forty-nine minutes of his escape from the prison.

Again, he goes in without a gun and with his back-up left outside until he gives the all-clear.

Neal comes quietly, just like last time, and he even offers up information that leads to a break in a seemingly un-breakable case. "See you in one week, Peter." Neal requests in return.

And he does.

Four months, six days, and one very strongly opposed probation deal later, Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke are partners.

It never takes longer than three years, one month, and eighteen days for Agent Peter Burke to catch anyone else again. Neal Caffrey makes sure of that. Even cuts it close a few times – three years, one month, and twelve days is the running record.

It's almost as if Neal is worried that if it takes his partner longer to catch someone else, then he'll be replaced and this newest criminal irritation will take over for him, get the same deal he did.

Especially now that his time on the FBI's leash is up.

But, honestly, by the time Peter catches on to this pattern, he doesn't intend on replacing Neal with anyone. Ever. By that time, they are four years, eight months and twenty seven days into one of the best partnerships, with the best close rate, that the Bureau has ever seen. And two years, four months and eleven days into another sort of partnership – one that Elizabeth knows all about and is totally okay with, at that.

The criminals are where they belong, Neal is where he belongs.

Everything is good.

But, then it happens.

Someone, an unknown subject, persons unknown, whatever the FBI wants to call the guy or guys behind it, goes after Neal. Whether it's related to his past criminal dealings or his current status as a willing FBI consultant, they aren't sure at first.

All they are sure about is that they'd been on the way to meet El for lunch, when suddenly a couple of red dots appear on Neal's chest. Peter sees them before the chaos unfolds, but even still, it's too late to do anything to stop it. He's just opened his mouth, to yell, to scream, to fucking order Neal to get down now, when he hears the slugs hit. Never hears the shots themselves, but the sound of the bullets impacting Neal's chest is more than enough to be the cause of nightmares for a long time to come.

"Neal," Peter says, already on his knees beside his partner. "Neal! Neal, damn it, come on. Don't do this." He presses his hands over the bloody wounds in Caffrey's chest, trying to stop the bleeding. Neal hates guns, hates blood, hates violence and death. Peter has always managed to keep most of it away from him, but there is no stopping it this time. "Neal, Neal! Damn it, someone call an ambulance!" He shouts at the people beginning to circle around them in concern. He doesn't dare remove his hands to grab for his phone.

He is going to fucking kill whoever had done this.

Neal flat-lines during the ambulance ride to the hospital.

It takes a long, grueling five minutes and fifty-seven seconds to bring him back.

Two minutes and twenty-two seconds when he crashes in emergency surgery.

It's another two days and eleven hours before the doctors think Neal is stable enough to tolerate visitors.

The doctors are utterly amazed he's still alive. He'd taken three hits to the chest. Punctured lungs, broken ribs, nicked arteries. One bullet had gone bouncing around in his abdominal cavity, wreaking havoc on everything it touched. Another of them had just barely grazed his heart. By all accounts, the boy should be dead.

Peter has already done everything he can to help the investigation. Filled out his report, put Jones and Cruz on searching for security cameras of surrounding buildings. Witnesses and possible leads and everything else.

Peter and Elizabeth don't leave the hospital. Mozzie and June are usually close by, too.

They're all waiting for Neal to wake up. The doctors don't know when that will be. If it will even happen at all.

Three months and twenty-nine days later, and they're still waiting.

He's been through four surgeries since the shooting.

The doctors haven't had much hope since the coma stretched into week two.

And it's all on Peter's shoulders. Since Neal made him his medical proxy years ago – A better option than his father, in jail somewhere in Miami. Or his Uncle, in jail somewhere in Texas. His mother might not have been a bad choice, but Peter has known for something like eight years now that she died when Neal was just a child – it's all up to him.

And he's just starting to wonder whether or not there's any chance that Neal's coming back this time. If he should sign the papers, like the doctors are subtly suggestion he should.

It's pretty late at night when he finally makes his decision. He's sitting at Neal's side, just watching. "He'll wake up." Peter says, and he's not even sure if he's talking to himself, or to Elizabeth – who sits on Neal's other side – or to Neal when he says it. But his mind is made up then, he's not signing anything that could take that chance, however miniscule, away.

He's not letting Neal Caffrey escape – he never has, and he never will.

Elizabeth nods and squeezes Neal's hand lightly. "I think so, too."

Four months and five days after Neal takes three bullets to the chest, he wakes up.

Peter isn't there, then, but El and Moz are.

Neal is a groggy, sleepy, mess as he returns to the land of the conscious. But, on the plus side, he doesn't seem to be in pain and it doesn't seem like several minutes without air did any lasting damage. He tries to talk within minutes of the doctors unhooking a large portion of the machinery that kept him going while he was out, but his voice is raspy and unclear.

"Shh," El hushes him. "Don't try to talk just yet. Give it some time." She rubs his arm reassuringly.

"Welcome back," Moz chimes in. "The Suit is going to be quite displeased to learn that you woke up when he wasn't here."

Neal tries to sit up, barely manages it, even with help from both of them. His eyes scan the room wildly, as he works out where he is and why. Blue eyes blown wide and alarmed, his hands – weak and uncooperative with four month worth of muscle degeneration – fumble at his short. He pushes it away enough to see the scars from the bullets and from the surgeries. They're all healed up now, nothing my light pink reminders remain.

"Wh- what," He stammers, forcing the words out, even though it hurts his throat. "Happened?"

The answer comes from the direction of the doorway before El or Moz can respond.

"Three .22's happened." Peter says, and it's almost like he can't believe what he's seeing, the way he's staring at Neal. "You're awake."

Neal smiles.

After another month and seventeen days in the hospital, and after various forms of intense physical therapy , Neal gets to go home. By home, of course, he means with Peter and Elizabeth and Satchmo. Where else would home be?

He still can't go back to work, though. And he's not even sure he wants to know what Peter has found out about the case.

A week after he gets released from the hospital, Neal passes out in the upstairs hallway because he'd tried to do too much too soon. Taking the dog for a mile long walk is seriously pushing limits and he's just plain lucky he made it back to the house first.

It's Peter who finds him.

Two days later and Neal is released from the hospital again. This time with very strict orders that he not stress himself. Agent Burke assures the doctors that he will use handcuffs it proves necessary.

They laugh.

He's not kidding.

Three weeks and nine days pass, and Neal doesn't pass out again, but he does enjoy riling Peter into making good on his threat. Elizabeth finds these occurrences quite entertaining, as well.

Neal and Elizabeth never ask about that case. Never.

Peter would tell them if they did question it, but since they don't…

He never tells them that the three men with sniper rifles all ended up dead within a week of the shooting, before anyone in the FBI had even figured out who they were. He never tells them that the guy who hired them has gone off the grid and is totally untraceable – mostly because he doesn't want them to worry over every little bump in the night, even though that's what he's doing. He never tells them that whatever ghost had been responsible, it's definitely someone whose been after Neal for a long, long time – they find photos on one of the shooters that prove that he's been stalked since before the first time Neal was caught. He never tells them that he handed the case over to Violent Crimes after he learned all of this because he doesn't want to have to ever face the man who planned to kill Neal Caffrey, if only because he'd have to resist returning the favor. He never tells them that the case doesn't seem likely to ever get solved.

Neal is back at work five months and two days after his second release from the hospital. Chained to a desk, for now, but the prospect of field work is in the not too distant future.

He finds the file sitting on Peter's desk when he goes to hunt the man down so they can grab some coffee before Peter and Jones head out for a stakeout. The blue folder is thick and draws his attention. When he realizes that it's a copy of his file, about the shooting, he almost puts it down.

It's stamped for the Violent Crimes Unit, but its contents look like they're all just photocopies. 'Open' it reads, beside the place where the case status is printed. A scrawled note on one page reads 'no leads.'

"Neal," Peter calls, when he spots his partner in his office. "Thought we were getting coffee."

He swallows hard and tosses the folder – complete with eerily disturbing crime scene photos – back onto the desk. "Yeah, we are."

Peter notices it, frowns. "We can look into it, if you want."

"No." He says. Because he honestly doesn't care if this one goes beyond the three years, one month, and eighteen day limit. At least for them. Because he's already figured out who did it and he knows that he doesn't want Peter or El or himself anywhere near it. The Violent Crime Unit can handle the violent criminals.

"It's up to you." Peter says, shrugging his shoulders.

One year, one month and eighteen days after Neal Caffrey nearly dies in front of Agent Peter Burke, an anonymous tip is sent to the Violent Crime Agent in charge of the case. A name, a location, and the words 'back-up, don't be stingy' are included.

Agent Raynor, in charge of the Caffrey case, calls Burke to let him know of the progress, but the call to his cell goes straight to voicemail. When he tries the White Collar Crime office, an Agent Cruz informs him that both Caffrey and Burke are on scheduled leave for the next week.

He sighs in dismay – Burke is going to be pissed at him for moving on this – but sends his team, along with substantial back-up, to the location.

Three hours and twelve minutes later, the man responsible – some violent 'criminal mastermind' that Neal double-crossed in his pre-FBI days - is apprehended.

Six days and eleven hours later, when they're all unpacking from their trip to the Caribbean, Peter gets the good news.

He tells Elizabeth, doesn't bother telling Neal.

There are no coincidences – there is no way that this tip just happened to come in the one week they weren't in New York, when Neal had insisted they keep cell phones off. It's just not probable. Especially once he hears the audio recording that Raynor plays for him over the phone. Neal may be a talented con-man, but Peter can still recognize his voice, even when he is masking it.

Agent Peter Burke knows everything there is to know about Neal Caffrey, after all.