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aragarnaTitle: The Fatherhood Chronicles - Two of a Kind
Author: Aragarna
Characters: Neal Burke, Neal Caffrey
Genre, rating: fluff and feels, gen, G
Word count: ~ 910
Summary: Little Neal has an important question for his Uncle Neal.
Author's Note: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maryrose_it. Happy Birthday my friend! This also fills the Cherished square of my second Gen Bingo card. Many thanks to the always awesome reve_silencieux who beta'd at the very last minute. :)
Neal Burke had mostly taken after his father. He was athletic, loved playing catch with his dad in Central Park, and was hoping to start hockey practice in the fall. He loved trying to figure out puzzles and games, and he had just developed an obsessive interest for dinosaurs.
He couldn’t stand kids being mean toward one another, and got himself in trouble at school more than once because he stood up for a classmate against bullies twice their age – and got his butt kicked in return.
And he just loved deviled ham.
But there was one thing that he didn’t pick up from his father, and that Peter, despite all his best parental will, couldn’t help him much with: Neal had a passion for all things artistic. Luckily for him – and for his clumsy dad – Neal also happened to have the best uncle one could ask for to help him develop his artistic talent.
His uncle Neal would often come over on the weekend, for lunch or a drink, and sometimes, when both of Neal’s busy parents had to work extra hours, he would also babysit his namesake.
Between the two of them, they would turn the babysitting into an epic art session: salt dough, watercolor painting, cutting and pasting, origami… It was always a never-ending bliss, and it was hard to say who had the more fun.
That Saturday, Caffrey was teaching Little Neal some basic drawing techniques. They were sitting side by side at the dining table of the Burke’s house, each a sheet of paper in front of them, and pencils of all colors spread all over the table.
“So first, you draw the general form, very simple, keeping out the details,” Uncle Neal was explaining.
Perched on his chair, bent over his sheet of paper, the boy was all ears, drinking in all Caffrey’s words. Tongue sticking out, he was reproducing each of his uncle’s gestures with great application.
Looking at him, Caffrey laughed. “Hey, buddy, you’re not supposed to look at what I’m drawing but at the model over there,” he said, pointing at the toy train standing in front of them.
“But it’s easier that way,” Little Neal protested.
Neal was a diligent student, but, as all kids his age, only for a short period of time. It wasn’t long until his imagination took over and he started taking liberties with his subject, adding colors and flares around the train, a sun in the corner, and some clouds, and a tree… Not exactly faithful to the model, but definitely imaginative.
After a while, he put down his pencils.
“Are you done?” Caffrey asked.
The boy nodded.
“Good, now don’t forget to sign your name.”
Showing the example, Caffrey signed his own name, and Little Neal imitated him. He glanced at his uncle’s drawing, then looked back at his. It seemed something was on his mind.
“Do you like your train?”
“Yes…”
“It’s very good, you’re doing good,” Caffrey said encouragingly.
The boy shrugged, glancing repeatedly at Neal’s drawing.
“What is it?” He asked.
Neal sat back on his chair and raised his big blue eyes to look at his uncle. “Uncle Neal, why do we have the same name?”
Caffrey smiled, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. “I guess it’s just a beautiful name,” he said, doing his best to sound casual.
Neal wasn’t convinced. “My friend Alex, he said he was named Alex after his grandfather, because his grandfather died before he was born. But my grandfathers aren’t named Neal. You’re the only Neal I know.”
“Have you asked your parents about it?”
Neal shook his head.
Caffrey lifted him from his chair and took him on his lap, wrapping a protective arm around him. Thinking back, he lost himself a moment in the memories of all those events. It seemed so far away now, as if from a different life. And in a way, it was from a different life. His wild time, before he decided to grow-up. And yet, despite all the years, the memories were still vivid in his mind. He could still remember everything as if it had happened just yesterday. Peter’s joy mixed with anger, his own anxiety, the gradual relief as days passed and he realized not everything was ruined, that they would be able to survive it, get past it. And the moment they did. He remembered coming back to New York, jumping right in into the Burkes’ new life and feeling right at home...
“Uncle Neal?”
Caffrey startled. He grabbed a pencil and started absentmindedly doodling around his train drawing.
“Your father and I, we’ve been friends for a long time. But shortly before you were born, I disappeared. Your parents thought I was dead and that I was never coming back. They were missing me a lot, so when you were born, they named you after me.”
“Why did you disappear?”
“Some bad guys were after me, and I was afraid they’d go after your parents, so I disappeared for a while to make sure they wouldn’t.”
“Where did you go?”
“I went to Europe for a while, mostly France.”
“Did you miss them, my parents?”
“Yes, every day.”
“And then you came back?”
“Yes, when it was safe to come back, I came back. You were about six months old then, so you probably don’t remember.”
“And now they have two Neals.”
Caffrey chuckled. “Yes, now they have two Neals.”
Author: Aragarna
Characters: Neal Burke, Neal Caffrey
Genre, rating: fluff and feels, gen, G
Word count: ~ 910
Summary: Little Neal has an important question for his Uncle Neal.
Author's Note: Written for
maryrose_it. Happy Birthday my friend! This also fills the Cherished square of my second Gen Bingo card. Many thanks to the always awesome reve_silencieux who beta'd at the very last minute. :)Neal Burke had mostly taken after his father. He was athletic, loved playing catch with his dad in Central Park, and was hoping to start hockey practice in the fall. He loved trying to figure out puzzles and games, and he had just developed an obsessive interest for dinosaurs.
He couldn’t stand kids being mean toward one another, and got himself in trouble at school more than once because he stood up for a classmate against bullies twice their age – and got his butt kicked in return.
And he just loved deviled ham.
But there was one thing that he didn’t pick up from his father, and that Peter, despite all his best parental will, couldn’t help him much with: Neal had a passion for all things artistic. Luckily for him – and for his clumsy dad – Neal also happened to have the best uncle one could ask for to help him develop his artistic talent.
His uncle Neal would often come over on the weekend, for lunch or a drink, and sometimes, when both of Neal’s busy parents had to work extra hours, he would also babysit his namesake.
Between the two of them, they would turn the babysitting into an epic art session: salt dough, watercolor painting, cutting and pasting, origami… It was always a never-ending bliss, and it was hard to say who had the more fun.
That Saturday, Caffrey was teaching Little Neal some basic drawing techniques. They were sitting side by side at the dining table of the Burke’s house, each a sheet of paper in front of them, and pencils of all colors spread all over the table.
“So first, you draw the general form, very simple, keeping out the details,” Uncle Neal was explaining.
Perched on his chair, bent over his sheet of paper, the boy was all ears, drinking in all Caffrey’s words. Tongue sticking out, he was reproducing each of his uncle’s gestures with great application.
Looking at him, Caffrey laughed. “Hey, buddy, you’re not supposed to look at what I’m drawing but at the model over there,” he said, pointing at the toy train standing in front of them.
“But it’s easier that way,” Little Neal protested.
Neal was a diligent student, but, as all kids his age, only for a short period of time. It wasn’t long until his imagination took over and he started taking liberties with his subject, adding colors and flares around the train, a sun in the corner, and some clouds, and a tree… Not exactly faithful to the model, but definitely imaginative.
After a while, he put down his pencils.
“Are you done?” Caffrey asked.
The boy nodded.
“Good, now don’t forget to sign your name.”
Showing the example, Caffrey signed his own name, and Little Neal imitated him. He glanced at his uncle’s drawing, then looked back at his. It seemed something was on his mind.
“Do you like your train?”
“Yes…”
“It’s very good, you’re doing good,” Caffrey said encouragingly.
The boy shrugged, glancing repeatedly at Neal’s drawing.
“What is it?” He asked.
Neal sat back on his chair and raised his big blue eyes to look at his uncle. “Uncle Neal, why do we have the same name?”
Caffrey smiled, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. “I guess it’s just a beautiful name,” he said, doing his best to sound casual.
Neal wasn’t convinced. “My friend Alex, he said he was named Alex after his grandfather, because his grandfather died before he was born. But my grandfathers aren’t named Neal. You’re the only Neal I know.”
“Have you asked your parents about it?”
Neal shook his head.
Caffrey lifted him from his chair and took him on his lap, wrapping a protective arm around him. Thinking back, he lost himself a moment in the memories of all those events. It seemed so far away now, as if from a different life. And in a way, it was from a different life. His wild time, before he decided to grow-up. And yet, despite all the years, the memories were still vivid in his mind. He could still remember everything as if it had happened just yesterday. Peter’s joy mixed with anger, his own anxiety, the gradual relief as days passed and he realized not everything was ruined, that they would be able to survive it, get past it. And the moment they did. He remembered coming back to New York, jumping right in into the Burkes’ new life and feeling right at home...
“Uncle Neal?”
Caffrey startled. He grabbed a pencil and started absentmindedly doodling around his train drawing.
“Your father and I, we’ve been friends for a long time. But shortly before you were born, I disappeared. Your parents thought I was dead and that I was never coming back. They were missing me a lot, so when you were born, they named you after me.”
“Why did you disappear?”
“Some bad guys were after me, and I was afraid they’d go after your parents, so I disappeared for a while to make sure they wouldn’t.”
“Where did you go?”
“I went to Europe for a while, mostly France.”
“Did you miss them, my parents?”
“Yes, every day.”
“And then you came back?”
“Yes, when it was safe to come back, I came back. You were about six months old then, so you probably don’t remember.”
“And now they have two Neals.”
Caffrey chuckled. “Yes, now they have two Neals.”
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