oper_1895: Neal Caffrey in a suit. (Default)
oper_1895 ([personal profile] oper_1895) wrote2010-07-11 11:47 am

Fic: Perspective

Title: Perspective
Author: oper_1895
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: Neal/Peter
Spoilers: None.
Rating: R
Contains: Chains, kidnapping and mentions of related abuse, comforting D/s.
Word Count: ~ 1200
Notes: For kink_bingo prompt: Chains.
Summary: “I’ll never complain about a 2 mile radius again, Peter, if you could just get these chains off.”
“Do you think you can pick them before someone gets here with the keys?”
“Can’t,” Neal said, taking a deep controlling breath. “They‘re welded on.”


Many many thanks to [personal profile] jumpuphigh and [personal profile] bientot for all their hard work on these!



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It had taken Peter’s team too long to put together the clues trickling out through the new forgeries appearing on the market. They were near perfect forgeries, Peter wasn’t even sure he would have noticed them in time if it weren’t for an ‘anonymous’ tip from Neal‘s strange friend. But everything had finally come together, and now that all the planning and organizing was done, Peter was terrified. They tracked Neal to a storage locker in a warehouse that was supposed to be completely unoccupied, stuck in legal limbo between two potential owners.

Peter paused outside the door for a moment, listening carefully, then slipped into the locker that was supposedly Neal’s cell with his chest tight. The rest of the team was working to secure the building, tracking Neal‘s captors through warren of nooks and crannies that made up the warehouse. No one had argued with Peter’s plan to get to Neal as soon as possible. He‘d wait out the rest of the hide and seek game with Neal, making sure no one decided to do anything clever with the hostage.

But Peter hadn’t quite expected this. Neal had been producing half decent forgeries, Peter had expected him to be in a semi-comfortable situation where he could work. Instead Peter found Neal sitting against a wall, with his knees pulled up tight to his chest. He was staring blankly down at his bare feet curled up against each other. The floor must be cold, Peter noted absently. Neal must be cold. The floor was wet, and Neal was looking damp in his thin undershirt and pants. But the thing that caught Peter’s attention was the heavy manacles on his wrists and ankles, and the chains bolted into the floor.

Peter approached cautiously, not wanting to startle Neal. “Hey.” At the sound of his voice Neal’s head whipped up. He attempted a smile, but his eyes were too wide for it to be convincing.

“Peter,” Neal’s voice cracked slightly. “Hey, what‘s up?”

Peter dropped the satchel he’d been carrying and stripped off his jacket and draped it over Neal’s shoulders as he sat down beside him, keeping his gun ready. “Just though I’d drop by.” If that’s how Neal wanted to handle it, Peter was willing to play along, hut he couldn’t help watching Neal a little warily.

“How‘re you doing?” Peter asked hesitantly, not sure if he wanted an answer. There wasn‘t much they‘d be able to do until backup arrived. While he couldn’t see anything immediately wrong, a lot could be done to a person in two weeks.

“I’ve been better.” Neal admitted, as if Peter couldn’t tell that from the way Neal curled into Peter’s body, or from the careful way he controlled his voice. Neal reached up to adjust the hang of the jacket, but the chains brought him up just short. Peter’s heart ached as Neal’s breathing hitched and he went still, then laboriously shifted another foot away from the door to where he had more slack.

Peter snagged his bag and followed. “I‘ve got some food here, but if there‘s risk of internal injuries-.”

“No,” Neal sighed, “they didn’t want to risk my productivity.”

“Take it slow,” Peter warned, handing over a bottle of water and a handful of power bars.

“I know.” Neal fumbled at the package with trembling fingers, and flushed when he noticed Peter watching. “The chains are heavy,” Neal muttered as he finally got the bar open.

“I can imagine.” From the raw skin around the edges of the cuffs, Neal had clearly been wearing them for a while, and from the way he was carefully chewing the power bar, they probably hadn’t been feeding him regularly. Peter could just imagine how the extra weight of the metal would wear a person down.

“Maybe I can help with that.” Peter used the excuse of riffling through his jacket for his lock kit to drape an arm around Neal’s shoulders. “Do you think you can pick them before someone gets here with the keys?” Even with shaking hands, Neal was better with locks then Peter would ever be, and it’d probably be good for Neal to be able to do something.

“Can’t,” Neal said, taking a deep controlling breath, and carefully setting the food to the side. He held up his wrists for Peter’s inspection. “They‘re welded on.”

Peter stared at the manacles with a sort of morbid fascination. That was one way to keep someone as skilled and as slippery as Neal in place. No burns though, they must have used a shield of some sort. Someone really didn’t want to risk him getting free. “How did they even do this?”

Neal shrugged helplessly. “I don‘t even know. I woke up like this.” He laughed bitterly. “Kinda glad I wasn‘t awake for that, actually.”

“You’ve had these on for the whole 2 weeks?”

“Is that how long it’s been?” Neal sounded exhausted.

Peter pulled Neal in close, and pulled out his radio to inform the incoming team that they’d need bolt cutters. First, they’d get Neal out of here. Then, when they were in a better environment, they could figure out how to cut the cuffs off of him. Neal leaned willingly into his embrace, jerking irritably at his chains.

“I’ll never complain about a 2 mile radius again, Peter, if you could just get these off.” Neal’s voice cracked and for a moment Peter was concerned that Neal wouldn’t be able to wait, now that rescue was so close and the adrenaline was fading. But even as Peter watched he could see Neal gather himself. He turned his face into Peter’s shoulder and took deep breaths.

“Not long now.” Peter rubbed at back of Neal‘s neck where he liked it best, wondering what was taking them so long.

“I just have to be good a little while longer?” Neal asked, a little bit hopefully.

Well there was an idea. Peter couldn‘t get the cuffs off any faster, but he could make them a bit more tolerable. “Would it be this bad if they were my cuffs?”

“Probably not.” Neal fingered the chains thoughtfully, lifted his head a bit to watch Peter.

Peter raised an eyebrow “Probably?”

“You know what I like.” This time Neal’s smile was shaded with truth and Peter could finally feel some of the tension leave Neal’s body.

He did know what Neal liked. He also knew that Neal would happily submit to a surprising number of things, so long as he trusted whomever he was submitting to. Peter tipped Neal’s head up to look him in the eye.

“These are mine.” Peter said firmly, carefully watching Neal’s reactions. “You’ll wear these until I say otherwise. If you’ve behave, I‘ll take you home after they‘re off, and you can have a good long soak, and El will feed you whatever you want, and tuck you into bed with us.”

Neal nodded, then dropped his head into Peter’s shoulder again and sighed. Peter let him rest, keeping one arm wrapped around Neal’s shoulders, the other one holding his gun ready. Just in case.


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