Work Text:
Mortgage fraud. Again.
Neal knew that Peter was getting revenge for the last insane stunt they'd pulled. They being Neal. Or to be specific, Jason's stunt.
Neal Caffrey was not supposed to be able to grapple to a skyscraper, hang upside down, disable security, and then climb through a window on the seventeenth floor. For a practice heist.
In his defense, he'd been itching to go out for a run.
Then Tim had just happened to show up and things got complicated and off-script but it was fine. His cover was secure. Probably.
A gust of wind ruffled his papers as yet another agent came into the bullpen. Sighing, he shoved them back into a stack and watched as the glass door swung closed once again.
While this desk was arguably the best when it came to watching who came in and out of the office - something his bat-training approved of - it also had great ventilation and a wonderful view of all the people who weren't chained to a two mile radius and had security clearances and all sorts of fun places to go and things to do.
Things that weren't mortgage fraud.
Undercover jobs sucked sometimes. Especially ones with restrictions. As Red Hood, he'd had virtually no restrictions. He could go fight crime in space if he wanted. Space-crime.
He missed space-crime.
And Roy. And Kori. And just vigilante life in general. But no, here he was, spending his time working on detangling this needlessly complicated pyramid scheme that old Aunt Betsy had been conned into by some two-bit criminal who didn't even have a theme. Or cool weapons.
He looked up at Peter's office. Peter probably was doing all kinds of fun stuff right now. Reaping the rewards of being a respected FBI agent and all that.
Yeah, Peter's job wasn't that much more interesting compared to vigilante work, but hey. At least he got to get phone calls from important people to tell him important things. Like the call that just came in.
Neal leaned back in his chair, spinning a pen as he watched Peter react to the phone call. It was fun to watch his expressions and try and guess who was on the other end of the line.
Peter looked stressed. By the way his shoulders tensed up and he half stood, Neal would bet the news was urgent.
Someone came in the doors. He ignored them.
Peter actually looked afraid. He frowned, starting to stand. Maybe it was El. Or something was wrong with the baby-
BANG!
Pain shot through his stomach, lightning blazing up his spine. He choked, eyes wide as he saw the-
He was falling. He couldn't feel his legs.
The shooter turned his gun to the next person. Jason knew without looking that it was Diana.
He's going to kill her.
He didn't even need to think. The pen flew from his fingertips as if guided by an unseen force.
Nice try. But you picked the wrong office to shoot up.
They didn't call Red Hood one of the best marksmen in the world for nothing.
A bulletpoint pen slammed through the right eye of the shooter, plunging directly into his brain. An instant kill.
Jason hit the floor.
He didn't feel the impact. Only the way the pain flared. And the way that pain disappeared halfway down his back. He took status out of habit.
Bullet through the spine. Shattered vertebra. Spinal cord fully severed. Instant paralysis until resurrection.
Death in under two minutes.
He could hear the panic of everyone else around him. Screaming. Shouts. But no gunshots.
They were safe.
He coughed, hard. Apparently the bullet had nicked his right lung on the way in. He could feel it filling with fluid. He coughed again. No blood. Not yet. He pressed his arm against the place it hurt the most.
This wasn't going to be a pretty death.
"NEAL!"
Peter.
He tilted his head, tried to look up for him. He could only see the ceiling. And a bit of the wall.
Peter appeared in his vision. The others were coming. He could hear them approach, then freeze.
He smiled. "Hey..."
If he died, he couldn't come back.
Neal wasn't immortal.
Peter turned to someone he couldn't see. "Call an ambulance," he snapped. Then kneeled down. Neal had to turn his head more to see him.
"Neal- You-"
"I got the bad guy." He coughed. He could taste blood. He tried to smile for Peter. "'M sorry..."
Peter shook his head. "No, no you did the right thing. You didn't-"
Jason cut him off. He could feel that foggy lightheadedness that came whenever he bled out.
"I'm gonna miss you, Peter. You and El and Mozzie and Diana and Jones-" Cough. "All of you. Made it all worth it. Even the mortgage fraud."
Diana moved into his line of vision. He realized belatedly that she'd been helping try to staunch the blood flow.
"You aren't gonna die, Neal." There was a desperate fierceness in her voice. "You're gonna make it."
He laughed softly.
"You're the best, you know that?" A round of coughs wracked his body. The lightheadedness now hung around him like a weighted shroud. He could barely feel the heat of the blood on his cheek now.
"I'm really gonna miss you guys..." He could feel his eyes closing.
"Neal, Neal." Peter snapped. "Stay with me."
He forced his eyes open again. Just for a moment longer.
Peter looked desperate too. And afraid.
It wasn't fair.
They didn't even do anything wrong. And now he was leaving. And they'll all think he's dead. Forever.
"'S okay," he slurred. "Imma be fine... come back 'n..." Cough. Cough. "..c'mmit s'm crimes..." Everything was numb. "...'n you c'n find me... right, P'ter?"
He tried to focus his eyes on Peter's face. They weren't working right. Neal thought he might be crying.
"I'll find you, Neal." Peter said. His voice sounded weird. Maybe he was crying too.
He smiled. Or tried to. His face was numb and prickly at the same time.
"'course you w'll..."
Peter could find him easier if he knew who he was.
"...mmm, P'ter?" He frowned.
"I'm here."
"...y'now the Hood?" Breathing was hard. Talking was hard. His voice sounded weird.
There was talking above him. He couldn't tell what they were saying. It was all echo-y and blurred out.
"Neal, hang on. We're getting you help." Peter's voice was closer.
No, he didn't need help. He needed... he needed Peter to know. Peter could find him if he knew.
Everything was so far away. Peter wouldn't even hear him.
"...'s me."
It was all fading. All the noise. All the pain.
Disappearing.
...
"Neal- Neal!"
...
"...g'bye.... love you..."
...
...
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