Proven Innocent
“Adam,” Neal says, relief flooding through him, when the man in question enters the room.
“Neal,” Adam says without inflection. Neal’s smile wavers a little but doesn’t fade entirely. Adam sighs and takes a seat opposite him. They look at each other across the plain metal table and Neal becomes acutely aware of his orange jumpsuit. “So you got yourself caught?”
Neal hates disappointing Adam. It doesn’t happen often; Adam seems to have almost unlimited patience with them. Neal figures it comes from being really, really old.
“They don’t have anything on me,” Neal tells him. “It’s all circumstantial.”
He takes risks, that’s just who he is, but Adam’s taught him to be cautious, too. Neal usually learns quickly, but he has to admit, that’s a lesson that took him a while. Mostly because he hadn’t wanted to, he’d thought he could keep ahead of anyone.
“So what do you want to do?” Adam asks, expression still impassive and Neal looks away from him, letting his hair cover his face.
“Dad,” Neal says. “I can't go to prison.”
He's terrified of going to prison, of what might happen to him. He's good at negotiating social situations, turning them to his advantage, but he's never even thought about how to negotiate a prison. Immediately, Adam reaches across the table and grips his hands tightly. Neal looks back at him, relieved to see a softer expression. Adam's smile seems at once both wry and affectionate.
“You’re all lucky I can’t age prematurely.”
Neal knows, at least to a fair estimate, how often they’ve all gotten in trouble over the years. He smiles at Adam, not quite his full grin, but close enough.
...
At his trial, Neal refuses to let Tony testify as a character witness. He's just become a detective and his father's reputation makes it difficult enough, even though Tony hasn't seen him in years, without Neal adding his own as well.
It's enough to have Adam sitting behind him and Kate just next to him. Adam's not all that fond of her, Neal's not sure why, but he appreciates having them there. Parker's also somewhere at the back of the room. He only catches sight of her occasionally.
Neal's lawyer, someone from Wolfram and Hart, freaks Neal out a little with how ruthless he can be. Especially after Adam warned him not to sign anything Adam himself hasn't looked over. But the guy gets the job done. He's already torn several witnesses to shreds, metaphorically at least. He wouldn't put literally past the lawyer either.
“So you contend that my client signed the allegedly forged bonds?” the lawyer asks the art expert who nods.
“Each bond contained a recognisable signature that is not present in the originals.”
Adam always said his desire to walk the edge is going to get him into trouble and there's only so much he can curb it, but he's not too worried. Not when Adam drummed into Neal's head early whatever need for caution he possibly could.
“What was the signature on the bonds?”
“N.A,” the expert says.
“And my client's initials?”
“N.C. but the agents seemed sure it had some further meaning,” the expert insists. The lawyer's smile is sharp.
“That will be all.”
Neal isn't all that surprised when, three days later, they find him innocent.
...
“You were lucky,” Adam tells him.
“Or just good,” Neal shoots back with his best charming smile. Adam is unaffected.
Instead, he slides a newspaper across the kitchen table to Neal. The headline reads “Faith lost in prominent businessman”. Neal sighs. He's seen this story. It details how his forgeries of the previously unforgeable bonds meant that investors had lost confidence in Atlantic Incorporated and the company was failing. He was sure it was a result of his public trial and that things would settle down once insurance covered the losses.
“Notoriety is one thing,” Adam tells him. “But this isn't the kind of attention you want.”
“I'm barely a footnote in the article.”
“That is not the point. You need to avoid this sort of thing all together.”
“So, what? You want me to give it all up?” Neal asks, incredulous. Most of them don't exactly walk a fair and just path and he rankles at the hypocrisy.
“I want you to anticipate the consequences of your actions,” Adam tells him seriously. “I want you not to make enemies you aren't sure you can handle.”
“He's just a businessman,” Neal says. Tony's got mobsters who hate his guts; Alec and Ben have entire government agencies after them and, if he steps a foot out of line, so will Sasha; Eliot's wanted in several countries; and Faith is a Slayer, the whole supernatural world seems to have a grudge against her.
“Don't underestimate his desperation. He's losing almost everything that means something to him.”
Neal's silent at that. Even though it's a distant memory these days, he remembers what desperation can do to someone.
“You're right,” he says softly.
He realises he needs to change the way he does things, that it wouldn't hurt to consider who might be collateral damage and whether the risk exceeds the reward. It'll be difficult, he knows, but he thinks it'll be worth it. He wonders what Kate will think of his shift in purpose.