Neal watched Raylan in silence, trying to sort out his thoughts.
"...There was a man named Vincent Adler. I met him a few years after I came to New York. I was--" Neal huffed a soft laugh. "Long story short, I was supposed to be conning him. Me and my partner were. I was the inside man."
He tapped the fingers of one hand against the side of his mug. "But it didn't exactly work out that way. He took me under his wing. Taught me..." He laughs again, though it's a little sad. "Everything. Everything I know about wine, and good food, and how far above the shoe the hem of a suit pant should fall. It was the first time I thought maybe I understood what having a father was like. And the thing was, he knew. He knew the whole time I was trying to con him, and he never said a word. Then one day... he disappeared. Took every penny from his investment company with him, including mine."
Neal shook his head. "But I couldn't hate him for it. After everything he'd shown me? After he left me that note that said he knew what I was, and cared the whole time anyway?"
He leaned forward, setting his cup down on the table. "The next time I saw him he told me I was the closest thing to a son he ever had. Then he pulled a gun on me."
Neal cleared his throat. He still hadn't sorted out all his feelings from that day. Seeing Adler again. Knowing he was responsible for so much of Neal's own pain. "Peter knew what he was to me. Maybe not everything he was, but enough. Adler pulled a gun, and Peter put him down, and if Peter had hesitated even for a second I'd be dead."
The thief leaned forward again, a little, trying to get a look at Raylan's face. Trying to get Raylan to look at him. "I would never, not for a moment, think less of Peter for being someone who could act without hesitation when the situation required it. That's the path you both picked. You're the people who make it possible for the rest of us to avoid violence. You've got a soldier's heart. That's not something to be ashamed of either."
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"...There was a man named Vincent Adler. I met him a few years after I came to New York. I was--" Neal huffed a soft laugh. "Long story short, I was supposed to be conning him. Me and my partner were. I was the inside man."
He tapped the fingers of one hand against the side of his mug. "But it didn't exactly work out that way. He took me under his wing. Taught me..." He laughs again, though it's a little sad. "Everything. Everything I know about wine, and good food, and how far above the shoe the hem of a suit pant should fall. It was the first time I thought maybe I understood what having a father was like. And the thing was, he knew. He knew the whole time I was trying to con him, and he never said a word. Then one day... he disappeared. Took every penny from his investment company with him, including mine."
Neal shook his head. "But I couldn't hate him for it. After everything he'd shown me? After he left me that note that said he knew what I was, and cared the whole time anyway?"
He leaned forward, setting his cup down on the table. "The next time I saw him he told me I was the closest thing to a son he ever had. Then he pulled a gun on me."
Neal cleared his throat. He still hadn't sorted out all his feelings from that day. Seeing Adler again. Knowing he was responsible for so much of Neal's own pain. "Peter knew what he was to me. Maybe not everything he was, but enough. Adler pulled a gun, and Peter put him down, and if Peter had hesitated even for a second I'd be dead."
The thief leaned forward again, a little, trying to get a look at Raylan's face. Trying to get Raylan to look at him. "I would never, not for a moment, think less of Peter for being someone who could act without hesitation when the situation required it. That's the path you both picked. You're the people who make it possible for the rest of us to avoid violence. You've got a soldier's heart. That's not something to be ashamed of either."