Written for 
whitecollar100 Challenge #071 - Rain
Title: The Clarity of Misery
Pairing/Characters: Neal
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 300
Spoilers: Unfinished Business, On Guard, As You Were, On the Fence
Summary: When comfort is denial misery brings a certain amount of clarity
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
The storm had blown in from nowhere, but that's often how it went. There would be smooth sailing and then hanging on for dear life.
Mere days ago everything had been fabulous. Now his expensive new identity was blown, Sara knew about the treasure and his failure to tell Mozzie the truth about the manifest put the chance of returning to prison - for good this time - back into Neal's once bright future.
Rather than get into bed, his bare feet led him to the French doors and out onto the terrace. The icy wind sliced through him and the torrential rain rendered his t-shirt and pajama bottoms sodden in mere seconds, but he ignored them.
He closed his eyes and turned his face up as the drops pelted him. He felt the maelstrom of weather whip around him, buffeting his body, treating him like the inconsequential and expendable pawn he was in the grand chessboard of the universe.
He could walk away. After all, it was Mozzie who stole the art, not him. He'd just facilitated it. A part of him thought back to when he stood amidst all that wondrous booty and felt like he might explode with joy. But that was before the reality set in.
Now he felt numb with fear, paralyzed by uncertainty and claustrophobic, feeling the FBI closing in.
He'd given up on the idea of the big score after losing Kate and had honestly started to feel settled in his life helping Peter. He'd felt comfortable, at home, among friends.
Now, as he let nature lash his body in punishment, he just wanted to be able to feel again.
There was no god listening to offer him escape or even respite, but perhaps - in the clarity of misery - he might find a way out.
o--c
whitecollar100 Challenge #071 - RainTitle: The Clarity of Misery
Pairing/Characters: Neal
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 300
Spoilers: Unfinished Business, On Guard, As You Were, On the Fence
Summary: When comfort is denial misery brings a certain amount of clarity
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
The storm had blown in from nowhere, but that's often how it went. There would be smooth sailing and then hanging on for dear life.
Mere days ago everything had been fabulous. Now his expensive new identity was blown, Sara knew about the treasure and his failure to tell Mozzie the truth about the manifest put the chance of returning to prison - for good this time - back into Neal's once bright future.
Rather than get into bed, his bare feet led him to the French doors and out onto the terrace. The icy wind sliced through him and the torrential rain rendered his t-shirt and pajama bottoms sodden in mere seconds, but he ignored them.
He closed his eyes and turned his face up as the drops pelted him. He felt the maelstrom of weather whip around him, buffeting his body, treating him like the inconsequential and expendable pawn he was in the grand chessboard of the universe.
He could walk away. After all, it was Mozzie who stole the art, not him. He'd just facilitated it. A part of him thought back to when he stood amidst all that wondrous booty and felt like he might explode with joy. But that was before the reality set in.
Now he felt numb with fear, paralyzed by uncertainty and claustrophobic, feeling the FBI closing in.
He'd given up on the idea of the big score after losing Kate and had honestly started to feel settled in his life helping Peter. He'd felt comfortable, at home, among friends.
Now, as he let nature lash his body in punishment, he just wanted to be able to feel again.
There was no god listening to offer him escape or even respite, but perhaps - in the clarity of misery - he might find a way out.
o--c
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