Malleable, White Collar, PG-15
Oct. 12th, 2010 09:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veronicasleepsTitle: Malleable
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
veronicasleeps
Rating: PG-15/R-ish
Characters/Pairings: Neal/Peter
Word count: 300
Warnings/Spoilers: Point Blank
Summary: Peter decides to be everything that Neal needs him to be
Notes: This is mostly about dealing with loss, and about being there for somebody who has lost an integral part of their lives. I’d love to hear what you think about it.
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Neal is not broken. Not destroyed by the loss of the two most important people in his life, or at least that’s what Peter tries to make himself believe.
Neal is lost. Lost, and drowning in a sea of anger and denial and hurt, and calling out for someone to help him, someone to ease the pain inside of him.
That's what Peter tells himself when Neal is screaming at him and, when Neal throws him and Elizabeth out of his apartment, he goes quietly, and doesn’t push. He does come back the next day, though, and the day after.
Peter decides to be everything that Neal needs him to be now, not only because he feels guilty for his part in Mozzie’s death, even if he does, but because he can’t bear to see Neal hurt like this, to retreat into himself.
Peter lets himself be shaped by Neal’s anger and his pain, and when he lies on Neal’s bed, long after Neal has finally fallen asleep, and Peter’s body hurts in ways that he never felt before, his mind is empty and he stares at the shards on the floor where clay figures had succumbed to Neal’s desperate anger.
He dreams of himself as one of them, that night. Except he’s not shattered, he hasn't even been hardened yet; his clay body is malleable and pliable under Neal’s shaking hands, and his skin is wet from cool water instead of hot tears born from loss.
Neal is painting when Peter wakes up in the morning and there’s coffee on the bedside table, still fresh and hot, and Peter knows it’s a silent apology for the bruises and the scratches that are starting to bloom on his skin, so much like the paint and the glaze on dream-Peter’s body.
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Author:
veronicasleepsRating: PG-15/R-ish
Characters/Pairings: Neal/Peter
Word count: 300
Warnings/Spoilers: Point Blank
Summary: Peter decides to be everything that Neal needs him to be
Notes: This is mostly about dealing with loss, and about being there for somebody who has lost an integral part of their lives. I’d love to hear what you think about it.
+
Neal is not broken. Not destroyed by the loss of the two most important people in his life, or at least that’s what Peter tries to make himself believe.
Neal is lost. Lost, and drowning in a sea of anger and denial and hurt, and calling out for someone to help him, someone to ease the pain inside of him.
That's what Peter tells himself when Neal is screaming at him and, when Neal throws him and Elizabeth out of his apartment, he goes quietly, and doesn’t push. He does come back the next day, though, and the day after.
Peter decides to be everything that Neal needs him to be now, not only because he feels guilty for his part in Mozzie’s death, even if he does, but because he can’t bear to see Neal hurt like this, to retreat into himself.
Peter lets himself be shaped by Neal’s anger and his pain, and when he lies on Neal’s bed, long after Neal has finally fallen asleep, and Peter’s body hurts in ways that he never felt before, his mind is empty and he stares at the shards on the floor where clay figures had succumbed to Neal’s desperate anger.
He dreams of himself as one of them, that night. Except he’s not shattered, he hasn't even been hardened yet; his clay body is malleable and pliable under Neal’s shaking hands, and his skin is wet from cool water instead of hot tears born from loss.
Neal is painting when Peter wakes up in the morning and there’s coffee on the bedside table, still fresh and hot, and Peter knows it’s a silent apology for the bruises and the scratches that are starting to bloom on his skin, so much like the paint and the glaze on dream-Peter’s body.
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