"Neal! NEAL!" Peter shouted, bursting through the door to Neal's loft. He quickly scanned the room, searching for any sign of his missing CI. Instead he found Mozzie, hunched over a glass of wine at the table. "Mozzie, have you seen Neal?"

"Why?" Mozzie responded coldly, not turning around.

"We had an argument earlier about…well it doesn't matter, but a few minutes ago, the Marshalls called and told me he cut his anklet. Do you know where he is?"

"Go away, Suit. He's not here." Mozzie was acting strange, stranger than normal, Peter thought.

"Are you okay—" Peter started to ask.

"Get out." Mozzie stood up suddenly, turning to Peter. Flinching, Peter took a step back in shock.

"Fine!" Taking the man for drunk, Peter started to leave.

"You broke him, you know that right?" Mozzie said so quietly, Peter almost didn't hear him. He turned around, looking at the small man before him. He had never seen the little guy so tense, so filled with rage. His shoulders were squared and his jaw set.

"What did you say?" Peter asked with a sinking feeling.

"You broke him, Suit." Mozzie stared right through him. "You took what little trust he had left in people and you shattered it. Over and over, you crushed him, yet he's always forgiven you. He has such faith in you, something I've never understood, but this time is different."

"What do you mean, Mozzie? Where's Neal?" Peter took a step closer to the man, wanting to shake him. "Mozzie! Do you know where Neal is?"

"Even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't tell you!" Mozzie shouted, making Peter flinch. "He's lost so much in life, more than anyone should ever have to be burdened with. His father, his mother, Ellen, everyone he's ever cared about. Every time he got back on his feet, something would happen to rip the rug out from under him. You, Peter…you were the only one he had left…"

"That's—that's not true!" Peter stuttered. "He has you! You two have been thick as—"

"What? As thieves?!" Mozzie spat at him, a look of disgust on his face. "Go ahead, you can say it now! Not much more damage you can do!"

"That's not—I didn't mean to—"

"Don't even try! It's too late. Neal's always known what you think of him, but he's always given you the benefit of the doubt; trusted you when you really didn't deserve it. That's where we're different." Mozzie glared at the shocked man before him. "I don't care about you, any of you, and I never have. I don't need your approval or your goddamn forgiveness. I don't need to prove myself to you because I DON'T CARE! I learned not to trust people a long time ago, and while it may have left me bitter and cynical, at least I don't get hurt anymore. But Neal? Neal needed you. He needed someone to pull him out of the corruption around him. I could never be that person, Peter, but you could have."

Peter stood, dumbstruck and silent, as Mozzie went on.

"Did you ever wonder why you were able to catch Neal? He's one of the smartest, most resourceful men I have ever met, yet you—you were able to catch him?! The kid can work a gun like no one else! He could have downed all of your agents and you without breaking a sweat, yet he never did. He still wouldn't, if you came after him now. Wanna know why?" Mozzie took a step closer. "Because he wanted to get caught. He wanted to change. HE WANTED YOUR FUCKING HELP! HE NEEDED YOU AND YOU ABANDONED HIM!"

Peter flinched and looked away.

"All you did was use him! Just like his father, just like EVERYONE ELSE! You used him and when you lost interest in him, you threw him away." Mozzie paused, waiting until Peter made eye contact with him. "You know what? No, you're worse than them. You're worse than his father even, because at least James had the decency to break his heart and never come back. But you? You just kept tearing him down until he had nothing left."

Peter felt his heart pound in his chest, an icy feeling crept down his spine.

"Mozzie," he said quietly, his voice shaking. "Mozzie, why did you switch to past tense?"

Mozzie said nothing.

"Where. Is. Neal." Peter tried to keep his voice calm. "Mozzie, what did you mean 'he had nothing left'. WHERE IS HE?!"

"I don't—"

"MOZZIE! WHERE THE HELL IS NEAL?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Mozzie shouted back. "All I know is that he came home, more upset than I've ever seen him, grabbed something from his safe, and left. I tried talking to him, but it was like he couldn't even hear me." Mozzie suddenly looked broken, as if his heart had been ripped away.

"What did he take from his safe? Was it a passport, a new ID?" Mozzie shook his head. "Then what was it?!"

"It was a gun, Peter." Mozzie's voice broke. "He grabbed a gun and he said goodbye. He always say 'see you later, Moz" or "talk to you later", but never goodbye. He's always had trouble with that word." You need to find him, Peter! Because if you don't—" Mozzie's voice cracked and Peter saw silent tears streaming down the man's face. "If you don't find him soon, I don't think we ever will."

I'm not really sure what this is, honestly. I just kind of started writing, thinking about how many times Neal has forgiven Peter and how many times Peter has given him a reason to never trust anyone again. I thought about how heartbroken Mozzie would be if he couldn't reach Neal to help him and how angry he would be at Peter and...well...the above happened...Tell me what you think and if you want me to continue!