#wcdcweek2025

It’s a sign of Peter’s acceptance of the situation, that your family has tortured this man enough that he’s on stage 7 and just sighs when he sees you in the Neal suit.

You grin the trademark Caffrey grin and get in the car with Peter.

“Good morning, Peter,” you greet cheerfully.

He just sighs when he looks at you.

“Are we stopping for coffee first?”

“You’re actually on time for once, so I guess we have time,” he says reluctantly.

“Why so gloomy this morning? Did you miss me that much?” you tease.

He side-eyes you, probably debating whether or not to call you out on your different appearance. But you weren’t the second, third or even seventh Neal to grace his presence, and you weren’t going to give him an inch.

”You can’t go in to work today! You’re sick!”

“Steph and Cass are in Hong Kong, Tim has WE things, Alfred is busying wrangling B and Damian, and-” He was cut off by a sneeze “-Duke can’t miss school. I’m the only one who can be Neal Caffrey, I have to go,” he wheezed.

You handed him the box of tissues. “Call in sick, I’m sure Peter would understand. Even CIs are allowed sick days.”

“No, there’s too much to do. I need to get those files for, for-” he sneezed again.

“Dick,” you groaned. “You’re not going in to work today, you need to rest. Drink lots of water, eat something, shower, sleep.”

He shook his head vehemently. “No, I’m going in-” He started to cough and grabbed his water.

“You’re not going in to work today,” you said as Dick put his glass down to argue but you continued before he got anything out. “I will go in to work today. I’ll be Neal for the day, ok?”

You walk into the office behind Peter and toss your hat onto the Socrates bust in the classic Neal style, grinning at your coworkers (Neal’s coworkers). … (And also your coworkers because they were federal agents and you were a federal agent… You weren’t going to think too hard about that right now, you were going to ignore that possible future complication until it decided to become a problem. Which was hopefully never.)

You sit down at your desk and pull up the first file. “Mortgage fraud,” you groaned.

No one liked mortgage fraud. Not that you couldn’t all do it, you prepared for it and learned and practiced together to be Neal, and that included knowing about all Neal’s cases so you could do them yourselves, it was just that it was mortgage fraud and mortgage fraud was so tedious with all the numbers and double checking documents. All of you preferred chasing after criminals over sitting at a desk doing mortgage fraud, even out of the Caffrey suit. You disliked paperwork at your regular FBI job, now you were back in an office doing it on your days off. By choice.

But Neal was a hard worker, and you weren’t a slacker, so you got to work.

“So, Caffrey…” Diana leans against your desk.

“Yes, Diana?”

“We still on for that thing this Friday?”

Immediately you know she’s up to something. This was the game they played every once in a while, try to get one of you to slip up and prove you weren’t the “real” Neal Caffrey.

“Hmm,” you pretend to think about it. “I don’t recall us having a thing this Friday, unless you’re referring to your date night with Christie and the fact that you, uh-” you glance around to see if anyone is within eavesdropping range “-the thing we talked about that you made me promise I wouldn’t spill.”

“Hmmm.” Diana considers you and you lean back in your chair in the most Caffrey way possible, grinning at her.

“I thought we were friends, Diana,” you tease. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all, Neal,” she says.

“Ouch, I’m hurt,” you pout, throwing a hand on your chest dramatically. “Do you think you’ll change your mind when I tell you we thought of the perfect answer to your inquiry?”

“We?” Diana raises an eyebrow.

“Me and Moz, of course,” you lied. “You can’t expect me to keep anything from him, can you? He’s my best friend, and he’d never spill your secrets, Diana.”

She studies you a moment longer before sighing.

“Buuuuuuut, if you’re talking about that exhibition in a couple weeks, then yes,” you flash a grin at her, “we’re still on.”

“Go back to work, Caffrey.” She pushes off your desk and returns to her own.

You turn back to the mortgage fraud file in front of you but take a moment to silently relax from the anxiety of fearing you’d be caught, no time to think about that now, being in the lion’s den and all that. You shake your head, to physically get the wiggles out before going back to cross checking the numbers in front of you.

The day is a relatively easy one, in the sense that no big case comes in and you just sit at your desk suffering through mortgage fraud file after mortgage fraud file.

At the end of the day, you hop up to Peter’s office and lean inside, knocking on the wall as almost an afterthought.

“Hey Peter.”

He looks up at you, then down at his watch and curses. “I’ve got to get to dinner with El.”

You grin as you watch him shut off his computer and shrug his jacket on. “Going to that Thai place Elizabeth talked about going to last week?”

“Yeah, we have a reservation for 7 but she wanted to go on a walk to the park with Satchmo first.”

“Have fun,” you smile at him. “I just came to tell you that I was off, I don’t need a ride home.”

“Oh, good. Thanks, Neal, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Peter!” you call out as he rushes to the elevator. You smile after him and wander back to your own desk to pick up your hat and flip it onto your head, Neal Caffrey style. You aren’t in a rush to get back, although you do want to check in on Dick. You wave to a few lingering agents and make your way to the stairs.

You jog up the stairs to Neal’s apartment and hope Dick had rested during the day. He deserved it.

You unlock the door and walk in, almost immediately you stop and stare.

“Alfred?”

“Good evening. Master Dick is in bed on strict orders to remain there until dinner which is almost ready,” he says as he manoeuvres briskly around the kitchen.

You nod. “Ok. Can I help with anything?”

“If you wish, you may set the table. Master Damian has informed me he will be joining us as well tonight.”

“Ok.” You had not expected to see Alfred out here, but it warms your heart that Dick hadn’t been alone the whole day. You set out the dishes, and when Alfred permits it, help him lay out the food.

“Where is Richard?”

You look over to see Damian standing by an open window. You nod your head towards the bedroom.

“He is resting but as dinner is ready you may get him and bring him here, Master Damian,” Alfred says.

He nods and disappears around the corner.

They both come out a minute later and wander over, Dick blearily wiping his eyes.

“How’re you feeling?”

He groans and plops down in a seat. “I wish I got hit by a bus instead.”

You snort as Alfred serves you all before sitting down himself.

“What happened at school today, Damian?”

He tuts. “It was school. It is a pointless undertaking and a complete waste of my time.”

You hum and finish chewing your food. “Maybe, but I’m sure Dick would love to hear all about it from you.”

Damian scowls. “The students there are imbeciles, but art class is acceptable. We’re learning different painting techniques.” He huffs. “And I suppose we’re learning about different species of animals and their classifications in science which is bearable.”

“That’s awesome, Dami,” Dick smiles at him, and you pretend not to notice that Damian’s frown softens. “And how was being Neal Caffrey today?” Dick teases you.

“An almost unbearable amount of mortgage fraud cases to flip through, but here I am, I survived,” you deadpan.

“Thanks for-”

“No need to thank me, I was happy to do it, although I was hoping for some jewelry theft maybe, ya know, something more interesting than mortgage fraud all day,” you joke.

Dick’s chuckle turns into a cough.

“And there’s no way you’re going in tomorrow either. I’m still off for a little while, so just face it, Dick, you’re stuck with me.”

“Fine, fine.”

“You must rest, Richard, if you are to return as Neal Caffrey or Nightwing,” Damian declares.

“Alright, little D, I won’t go in tomorrow,” Dick promises, ruffling his hair, to which Damian scowls and ducks away.

“So, Alfred. Are you going to be Neal tomorrow while Dick gets better?” you joke.

“I was Neal once and I believe that was enough. I do not wish to antagonize Special Agent Peter Burke into a pre-mature heart attack, especially since he has such a lovely wife.”

You chuckle.

“His dog is wonderful. He is barely tolerable,” Damian sneers.

Dick coos, which quickly turns into coughing. “Such high praise coming from you, Baby Bat,” he says when he’s able to breathe again.

Damian scowls. “You should not strain yourself while you are incapacitated, Richard, there is an art exposition at the museum you promised to take me to next week. Unless you would prefer to reschedule.”

“No, no, of course not, Dami, I’ll-” he sneezes.

Damian tuts and gets out of his chair to tug Dick out of his. “You need to rest if you are to conquer this infection.”

Dick ruffles Damian’s hair again. “I love you too, Baby Bat.”

He tugs Dick faster but doesn’t otherwise argue.

You watch them wander over to the bed with a soft smile, hoping Damian doesn’t end up coming down with a cold too.

You stand up with Alfred and help him clear the table and wash the dishes.

“When are you going back?” you ask him while drying a plate.

“Shortly,” he replies. “I will be support on comms tonight, but Master Dick needed to be checked on.” He glances over at you as he washes a pan. “It is good that you are here to keep an eye on him.”

“I do what I can.” You give a small smile.

“And that he has company. Being Neal Caffrey can get lonely when one wears his mask for so long.”

You nod. “Especially because of the mask,” you agree.

Eventually all the dishes are cleaned, and you go to check on your brothers with Alfred. You smile at the sight of them curled up together, fast asleep.

“I can wake him up early enough to take a Zeta to Gotham for school,” you murmur, loathe to wake them up when they look so peaceful.

Alfred has a small smile on his face under his moustache. “I’m sure they both need their rest. Very well, I will bid you a goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Alfred.”

He nods with his small smile and leaves the apartment.

You gather up your blankets again and make your bed on the couch.

Today had been a new experience. You hadn’t been Neal before, even if you’d paid attention to all the Neal briefings before and practiced with your siblings so you could be Neal Caffrey should the situation warrant it. Today had been one of those times and you were glad you were able to step up so Dick could rest (he did not get enough).

You had enjoyed being Neal Caffrey temporarily. (Even with all the mortgage fraud). Tomorrow you’d go back into the White Collar office and hope for a different case, less mortgage fraud, and that no one recognised you as an FBI profiler from Quantico.

You set your alarm for the next morning and think about which suit to wear. Alfred was right, in the short term, Neal Caffrey was a fun mask to wear. But wear it too long, and it gets exhausting. You think about the mission and how long it’ll take until your family retires the Neal Caffrey alias. The answer to that was not until there were no more spies and assassins in the office; which you were purging slowly but surely. Eventually there would come a day where it would be free of them and Neal would run or disappear or die and no one would need to wear the Caffrey mask anymore.

… Until the next time a long-term undercover mission came up and you were all called back to action. Your lives could be chaotic like that, but you never regretted the chaos your chosen family brought into your life, it was what made it entertaining after all.

~~~

1. “C’mon, Neal, just tell us something we don’t know about you, from your childhood or just something, anything we don’t know about you,” Diana asked.

They’d been stuck in the van on surveillance for 6 hours now and the agents were getting antsy.

Kon rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth,” he said.

“Just tell us.”

Kon huffed. “Fine. Your loss if you don’t believe me.” He shrugged.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, man,” Jones said sarcastically.

“I was supposed to replace Superman but that didn’t work out, so I turned to crime.”

For a moment there was silence in the van. Then came the snorts, eye rolls and laughter.

“Ok Neal, keep your secrets.”

2. “Why do you hate Lex Luthor?” Diana whispered to him as they wandered through a ballroom at a gala hosted by, you guessed it, Lex Luthor. “I mean, I get that he’s a creep and he gives me the heebie jeebies, but you seem to have a grudge against him. What, did he have security so good that even the great Neal Caffrey couldn’t surpass it?”

“Lex Luthor is my father. And he’s an asshole.”

Diana snorted. Then did a double take when he didn’t crack his signature “just kidding” smile. “Ok…”

“Keep focused, guys,” Peter’s voice came through the comms. “Luthor isn’t our target tonight.”

3. “Could be a clone.”

“Don’t you mean twin?” Jones asked. “The whole twins thing, have an alibi with people seeing you in one place when actually there’s two of you?”

“No, I mean clone. Made from the same DNA, looks exactly the same,” Kon argued.

“So, twins,” Peter said.

“Clones, Peter!”

“Clones don’t exist, Neal.”

Kon had to fight the urge to scream. Neal Caffrey would not scream. He got his impulses under control. “C’mon, Peter, clones exist. Like that sheep from the 90s or just ask Superman!”

“What?” Three sets of stares were fixed on Neal.

“What?” He smiled innocently.

Peter sighed and shook his head. “No, Neal. I am not dealing with this right now. Let’s look at this again and someone please give me an explanation other than ‘there was more than one person’.”

4. “Were you this charming in school?” El laughed when Kon handed her a bouquet of flowers.

“No, I didn’t go to school, I was born in a lab,” Kon deadpanned.

“Oh, right, no history before 18, sorry, I won’t ask again. Well, thank you for the flowers, Neal, this was very kind of you.”

Kon could laugh at how right she was and yet how wrong she thought she was.

“Did Peter put you up to this?”

Kon gasped dramatically. “How could you even think that I would bring you flowers to soften you up for you husband?” He grinned. “Ok, I would, but these are from me, just because a wonderful woman like you deserves flowers.”

“Aww, thank you Neal. Let me put them in some water.”

5. “How did you not watch that show as a kid? It was so popular!” Jones exclaimed.

“I had no childhood, I’ve always been an adult.”

“Neal,” Peter said in a warning tone.

Kon rolled his eyes. “You don’t have any proof that I did have a childhood, Peter, I’m just stating the facts.”

“Just because I haven’t found it yet, doesn’t mean I won’t, now back to work you two, I want to get this guy before 5 so I can get home to El. She’s making a fancy casserole for dinner.”

+1. “How did you do that?” Peter said when he’d finally pulled up in front of June’s house. Kon thought he might still be in shock. In his defense, he probably hadn’t dealt with a lot of magic and alien existence, like Kon had. If that’s what conclusion he’d even come to.

They'd been undercover at a gala and things had gone wrong. (Of course.) Some group of criminals had decided robbing the art gallery they were at was a good idea and crashed the party, rounding everybody up into the centre of the hall. Peter, the good guy he was, had tried to come up with a plan to stop them without endangering the other guests, but these were no amateurs and Kon was begrudgingly impressed with their speed at getting in and out, tossing smoke bombs behind them as they left.

Peter, Jones and Diana had raced after them immediately, Peter calling for Neal to stay behind. He’d rolled his eyes, as if he was gonna do that. Instead, he’d gone a different way, sneaking out into an alley and letting himself get hit by the getaway van to stop it in its tracks, then playing dead until his team had shown up with their badges and guns.

Of course, these things couldn’t all be easy and the criminals weren’t going to go down so quietly and grabbed their guns, but Peter, Diana and Jones shot at their arms and legs, stopping them in their tracks. They cuffed them and made sure paramedics were on their way along with the police.

Kon had popped up as soon as they were cuffed and started brushing off his suit, grinning and telling Peter he was fine, he’d learned to get hit safely and roll with the punches. Peter was not reassured but Kon convinced him that the cuffed criminals were more important at the moment.

“Neal!”

Kon had begun to turn to look at Diana to see why she had yelled so worriedly when he’d felt a bullet hit his arm and deflect off into the darkness. Well, shit.

“Neal! Are you ok? Were you hit?” Peter had started urgently patting him down but Kon gently but forcibly pushed him away.

“I’m fine, Peter, it didn’t hit me,” he lied. “I’m ok.”

Peter didn’t look convinced but just then the ambulance and a couple cruisers pulled up and Kon had shoved Peter away (kindly) to deal with that.

Somehow, Kon was able to convince Peter that he was ok and to just drive him home. But he’d forgotten that his suit had still been torn by the bullet and that it was now facing Peter as they sat together in the late-night New York City traffic.

“Neal!” Peter’s exclamation had brought him back from staring into space out the window.

“Yes, Peter?”

“You said you were ok, Neal,” Peter had sounded even more distressed than usual.

“I am? Peter, are you ok?”

“No! I am not ok because you were shot, and you didn’t tell me. We’re going to the hospital.”

Kon’s eyes had widened. “No, please Peter, no hospitals,” was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Peter had pulled the car over and fully turned to look at him. “I’m not letting you bleed out in my car or at your apartment. You’re my CI, I need to take care of you. You matter, Neal. I’m not letting you avoid getting help.”

Kon had winced. “I’m fine, Peter, I promise.” He’d twisted and nudged the torn fabric of his suit around (a shame, thankfully June had known some great tailors that she’d told him about that he could take it to to be repaired), showing Peter the unblemished skin. “See? I’m fine, I’m ok, I’m not hurt.”

Peter had stared and poked at Kon’s arm himself. “I’m ok, Peter, let’s just go home? Please?”

Peter didn’t say anything. Just pursed his lips and, after a moment, pulled back into traffic.

They were going to have to talk about this, weren’t they?

He sighed and rolled his head against the headrest to look at Peter with a tired smile, fighting the urge to run away from this conversation. “I told you, Peter, I’ve told you before, you just never believed me. Just like I said you wouldn’t.”

Peter frowned, trying to go through all their conversations to pinpoint what he’d said.

“I’m a clone, Peter. Made by Lex Luthor with his and Superman’s DNA. Born in a lab, popped out a fully grown human, no childhood to speak of. Impenetrable skin, super strength, no laser eyes though, made to replace Superman but …” He looked down and shrugged. “That didn’t work out. So… I ran away, turned to crime, made myself a new identity, tried to find myself-” he gave a self-deprecating laugh “-funny thing is it kinda worked out. I don’t regret it because it led me-” He swallowed and looked up to gauge Peter’s reaction. “I don’t regret meeting you, Peter. Not you, El, Mozzie, Diana, Jones, June. I … feel like I finally have an idea of who I am now.”

“Neal…” Peter started slowly.

“You don’t have to- I know you probably have to report this or something but-”

“We love you, Neal.”

Kon blinked.

“I believe you and,” he cleared his throat, “I love you. You’re family, Neal, no matter where you came from, or who you were supposed to be, we love you for who you are, and… whoever you become.”

Kon wanted to believe that he didn’t tear up at Peter’s words, but that would have been a lie, and Kon was done lying.

“Kon,” he said.

“Huh?”

“My name. Kon. With a K, not a C and yes, I can already anticipate the dad jokes you’re going to make about that,” he said rolling his eyes.

Peter chuckled. “So, you, well, you decided to become a Kon-man anyways?”

Kon sighed. “I have no idea how El puts up with your jokes sometimes.”

“She’s an incredible woman.”

Kon nodded. “That she is, putting up with me as your second wife,” he joked.

But Peter didn’t chuckle along this time. “She loves you too, N- Kon. And I’m sure she’d love to have you over for dinner tomorrow. We both would, if you're feeling up for it.”

Kon had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could answer. “Sure, I’ll be there. Thanks for the ride, Peter, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He ducked out of the car before it became any more emotional in there.

He got up to his apartment and sat down at the kitchen table with a glass of wine, realizing that he felt lighter, now that he had told Peter the truth, and he had accepted him. For the first time in a long time, Kon actually believed that he was wanted. And it felt nice.

~~~