Peter opened the door and tossed his keys on the table.

"Hey boy." He reached down and scratched behind the chocolate lab's ears, smiling when the dog emitted a happy sigh.

"I assume Lucky is still alive." Hearing her name the small tabby walked hesitantly towards Peter, eyeing the large dog with much dismay.

Peter picked her up and carried her into the kitchen with Sam at his heels. It wasn't his idea to keep the kitten but the boys found her at the park and he had a hard time saying no. Elizabeth wasn't any help so as long as the dog accepted her, she was a keeper.

He gave each a treat and then checked his watch. The closer he moved towards retirement the easier it was to leave early when Elizabeth couldn't.

They made a pact when the boys became theirs to always have someone home when the school bus pulled up.

He heard a knock at the door and frowned; it was too early for the bus. He opened it and his eyes widened...

"Neal" he whispered in disbelief; taking in a man he hadn't seen in ten years. He studied his former CI in silence, with his eyes lingering on the walking cane Neal held in his right hand. Peter stood motionless, too stunned to do anything but stare.

"Can I come in?" Neal asked to break the awkward silence that accompanied the reunion. His voice seemed to snap Peter back to reality.

"Of course." Peter stepped aside but continued to stare as Neal slowly walked in; each step a tortuous movement and by the time Neal sat he was breathing heavily.

Peter watched him as his brain tried to register what just happened; a friend he assumed was lost forever was seated in his living room...to say Neal was a former shell of himself would have been an exaggeration. He barely aged in the passing years but there was a tinge of gray in his hair and a few more wrinkles across his forehead.

He had always been thin but it was more noticeable as was the awkward angle his right leg rested...

"You can ask if you want" Neal retorted as his voice brought Peter's eyes to his face. The agent sat on the sofa, opposite his old partner.

Ask what Peter silently mused. There were so many questions running around in his head that nothing coherent came to mind. Before he had a chance to form a word the front door opened and two young boys ran in.

"Daddy, look what I won." The smaller of the children raced to Peter while the older one stood back and eyed the stranger. Peter watched Neal's reaction with amusement; the ex-con stared from Peter to the boys and back... most likely doing the math in his head.

"Who is that?"

"Charlie, don't point" Peter admonished the younger one.

"I've seen you" the older boy said. "You're in those pictures with Dad...you're from New York."

"I'd like you to meet my sons. Charlie is hanging on to me and that's Jason."

Neal stared dumbfounded; ten years had passed but Jason was definitely older than ten. He glanced Peter's way and the agent nodded with a smile playing on his face.

"This is..." Peter paused. He had no idea what name his old partner was going by.

"Neal" the ex-con put forth as he leaned over and held his hand out, solemnly shaking each one.

"We used to work together in New York" Peter explained. "Go do your homework." He pushed Charlie off of his leg. "One cookie each and no computer time until you're done."

The boys ran off with the dog following and the men remained quiet until they marched up the stairs like a small army.

Now it was Neal's turn to be silent and he allowed his eyes to dart around the room, suddenly noticing all of the signs that children lived there. He also eyed Lucky and called the kitten over.

"She likes you" Peter noted as Neal picked up the cat and held her on his lap.

"I don't recall you being a cat person" Neal mused. "And you have kids..." Neal let those words dangle in the renewed silence.

The old friends stared at each other, both wondering where all the time had gone and how to explain what had happened. Neal allowed himself to study his friend; Peter had aged well... surprisingly he had less gray than Neal did but he also had less hair. He was still fit and Neal assumed he still ran...once a runner, always a runner.

Something Neal was never fond of and now...walking was enough of a chore. The kitten turned twice and then settled on Neal's lap, purring loudly.

"You faked your own death" Peter quietly said, meeting Neal's gaze.

"Mozzie did" Neal corrected as he lowered his eyes. "I had no idea and it was months before he told me."

"And then you sent that letter..."

"I wanted you to know I didn't run."

"You typed it..."

"I couldn't write at the time" Neal interrupted again. He held up his right hand and allowed Peter to see the scars close up.

"I also wanted you to know I wasn't dead and to go on with your life." Neal removed his hand from Peter's scrutiny.

"Neal, what happened to you?"

"I told you in the letter. I was kidnapped and held captive."

"You obviously left out a lot..." Peter's voice trailed off.

"I'd rather talk about you" Neal offered. "How's Elizabeth?"

"She's good." Peter smiled. "She's the director of the gallery..." Peter shrugged. "And I've been thinking of retiring. Your turn."

Neal chuckled. "I think you forgot a big chunk." He pointed towards the nearest photo...two smiling boys sitting on Santa's lap.

"When Elizabeth was out here alone she befriended a co-worker; a woman who was pregnant with her second child and had just learned her husband had been killed in Iraq."

"Oh" Neal muttered for a lack of anything better to say.

"They became fast friends and then I moved out here permanently and..." Peter smiled wearily. "During a C-section they discovered she had cancer; there wasn't any family around so Elizabeth and I stepped up and helped with the boys."

"And then she died" Neal put forth.

Peter nodded. "Eight years ago. Jason was four and Charlie six months. When she knew the end was near she updated her will..."

"And just like that, instant family" Neal finished.

"It wasn't that quick but there was no one to contest the will." Peter paused. "It was certainly a game changer for us."

"I can imagine." Neal smiled. "Wow, I can't believe you're a dad..."

"I had a lot of practice with you" Peter said. "Now tell me what happened to you."

"The long or short version..."

"Just the truth" Peter countered quickly. "And where's Mozzie? Did he come back with you?"

Neal looked away.

"Neal?"

"He died a few weeks ago" Neal said with his voice barely above a whisper. "He went fast, in his sleep...massive heart attack."

"Neal, I'm sorry." Peter leaned over and placed his hand on the ex-con's shoulder. "Neal, I know how much he meant to you..."

"He was family" Neal quietly said. "He was all I had left..." Neal slowly stood and he couldn't suppress the groan that came with that movement.

"I should go."

Peter jumped up. "Where are you going?" He grabbed Neal's arm.

"This was a mistake." Neal shook himself free.

"What was a mistake?" Peter held Neal by the shoulders and forced the younger man to face him.

"Neal?"

Neither had heard the door open.

Peter turned. "Hon, you're home early." He released Neal.

She neared them with her eyes never leaving Neal. Standing on her tip toes she pulled Neal close and wrapped her arms around him.

"We missed you" she whispered as he melted into her embrace, longing for the human contact that he hadn't realized he missed.

"Mommy!"

Elizabeth pulled away as Charlie ran towards her.

"Look what I won." She knelt down and hugged her son, wiping away her tears in the process. "That's wonderful" she eked out in a quivering voice, hoping the little boy didn't notice.

"Mommy, why are you crying?"

"They're happy tears" she explained, laughing at the look he gave her.

"Charlie, go upstairs and finish your homework. OK?"

He glanced at the adults before turning and racing up the stairs.

"Do they ever walk?" Neal asked as he closed his eyes, holding his own tears at bay.

"Neal, where are you staying?" Elizabeth asked.

He shrugged. "I just got in this afternoon."

"No bag?"

He glanced Peter's way. "I left it at the airport."

"Peter, we'll move Jason into Charlie's room."

"No" Neal protested.

"I don't know if that will work..."

"Peter, it will be fine."

"That's not what I mean." He looked at Neal. "Can you handle the stairs?"

"I'm not staying." Neal sat slowly and rubbed his aching leg. He took out a small bottle of pills. "Can I get some water?"

Peter rushed off and returned with a glass. He frowned as he watched Neal down two pills. "Does the pain ever go away?"

Neal shrugged; it did if he drank enough but he didn't think Peter wanted to hear that.

"They have some good hospitals here. I'll make some calls and get you in to see a specialist."

"No." Neal stood and staggered; Peter caught him before he fell. "Neal, why'd you come here if you didn't want our help?"

Neal didn't answer.

"OK" Peter said gently. "El, help Jason move and I'll take Neal to get his bag."

Neal didn't have the energy to argue and he didn't protest the support Peter gave him as they walked towards the car.

Once settled, Peter turned towards his former partner. "Neal, I'd like an answer...why are you here?"

"I have no one else" Neal whispered before leaning back and closing his eyes.

Elizabeth stared up at the ceiling, occasionally glancing at her husband, who sat near the window. It had taken a long time to get the boys settled; they were curious and had a lot of questions about the stranger and why their father was acting weird. OK, weird was Jason's word but Elizabeth couldn't disagree with her eldest.

Peter had sat with Neal and watched his friend struggle until the pain became unbearable and sleep was a welcomed diversion. Peter returned to their bedroom clearly affected; he described what had happened and then sat at the window, staring out at nothing. Elizabeth knew neither of them would get any sleep.

Finally she sat up and approached her husband, settling herself on the arm of the chair with her hand rubbing Peter's back.

"I should have done more."

"Peter you did everything you could."

"When Mozzie disappeared..."

"You assumed Neal was alive and you stopped looking. Peter, you gave Neal his freedom."

"And then the letter came..." Peter paused and leaned over, running a hand over his face. "I should have known something was wrong."

"And what could you have done? You didn't know where Neal was and you were needed here."

Shortly after the letter arrived, they brought the boys home permanently and it was rough on all of them. "Did you tell Neal he is a free man?"

Peter shook his head no.

"What about the money June left him?"
Again the agent shook his head. "He was in too much pain..."

Peter leaned lightly against his wife. "That leg has to go. It so crooked I'm not sure how he walks on it."

"We'll get him to see a specialist."

"He doesn't have insurance."

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "We have connections Peter. We'll use them to get Neal the medical attention he needs."

"Even if we get a doctor to do it pro bono, I'm not sure Neal will go along with it."

"Peter he's here for a reason."

Peter eyed his wife. "Because he has nowhere else to go" the agent quietly said.

"No." Elizabeth firmly disagreed. "He's here because we're family and he needs our help."

"El, a lot of time has passed."

"Doesn't matter." Elizabeth took her husband's hand. "Once we get Neal feeling better, we'll figure out the rest."

"I can turn my study into a bedroom for him."

"Why Peter" Elizabeth exclaimed with a hint of exaggeration. "You're willing to give up your man cave for Neal..." She started laughing, not hiding her relief when Peter joined in briefly. He glanced upward. "This isn't going to be easy...on any of us. El, the boys..."

"We'll be fine" Elizabeth assured him.

"I don't know." Peter stood with a muffled groan, as his aching muscles protested. "I wish I knew what Neal wanted..."

"Hey. " Elizabeth pulled him close with a gentle hug. "He wants our help but if you don't believe me, ask him." She let go. "Try to get some sleep...ok?" She took a step towards the bed, pleased when Peter followed.

In the past Peter had watched Neal sleep on a number of occasions; late nighters at the office or holiday gatherings that lasted well into the morning. Elizabeth had labeled Neal a peaceful sleeper; he didn't move and he didn't utter a sound; so content in his surroundings that nothing disturbed his sleep.

That was then...Peter let out a quiet sigh as he glanced around the office. The pill bottle was overturned and several had fallen on the floor along with his glass of water. The blankets were a tangled mess at the foot of the bed and Neal moaned continuously as he tried to get comfortable; an impossible task when the pain never went away.

Peter studied his leg, bent awkwardly from the knee down, keenly noticeable even in the flannel pants that Neal was wearing.

Peter had so many questions; several times he had tried to engage Neal in a conversation but his friend didn't seem ready or willing to delve into the past.

Peter knew a little; Neal was stuffed into a van and held captive for nearly a year. That was all Neal divulged, though Peter tried his best to gather more information.

"Peter?"

The agent startled when he realized Neal was awake and watching him.

"A pill" Neal mumbled as he reached outward with his hand.

"Neal you should eat..."

"Now" Neal demanded as he plopped himself on an elbow and grabbed the bottle, dry swallowing two before Peter had a chance to move.

Peter stared with his mouth slightly ajar as he watched Neal burrow himself under the blankets; he had known pain in his life but he couldn't imagine what his friend was going through having to live with unimaginable pain every second of his life.

Peter vowed he would do something with or without Neal's blessing.

"Neal." Peter sat gently on the edge of the bed.

"Give me a few" Neal whispered as he hid his face against the pillow, willing the pain to ease up, become more manageable so he could face Peter.

"Just listen" Peter pleaded in a quiet voice as he placed a tentative hand on the ex-con's shoulder. "Neal, I have friends in high places. Let me use them to help you.

"That doesn't sound like the Peter Burke I remember" Neal remarked evenly.

Peter chuckled softly. "I've been playing the game for a long time" he explained with a shrug of his shoulders. "Neal, that leg has to go."

"I know..." Neal struggled to a seated position, allowing Peter to help him. "I've known for a long time..."

"Then why didn't you do anything?" Peter interrupted in an exasperated tone.

"Mozzie always asked the same thing." Neal shrugged defiantly. "I don't really have an answer" he admitted. "At least not one you would understand."

"Neal, are you ready?" Peter asked as he watched his friend. "Let's get rid of the pain so you can move on with your life."

Neal chuckled bitterly. "I'm a fugitive or have you forgotten that part?"

"No, you're not." Peter smiled, wishing he had a camera to capture the moment, the look of pure shock that briefly crossed Neal's face.

"After I received your letter I called in a few favors and your sentence was commuted to time served." Peter frowned. "If I knew where to find you..." He paused with a slight shrug.

"I'm sorry" Neal whispered as he tried to digest the agent's words. "If you knew where I was..."

"Plausible deniability" Peter quietly remarked, wondering how often he had said that in the past. "I can get you in tomorrow if you're willing."

Neal looked away; he had fought with Mozzie for years about his leg.

"I don't know if I can do it" Neal admitted.

"Just talk to the doctor" Peter pleaded with a weary smile. "It won't hurt to talk to him."

"No pressure?" Neal asked hesitantly.

"It's your life" Peter quickly countered. "It's your choice. Are you hungry? I can make you breakfast if you want."

Neal shook his head. "I can't walk yet..." he curled up on his side and closed his eyes.

"OK." Peter eyed hi s friend and lingered in the silence, before walking out.

Pain was his constant companion. From the moment he woke he dealt with a feeling he wished on no one and a continuous need for pills that only dulled the pain and allowed Neal to function at best. Life had become as cumbersome as his leg and only Mozzie had seen him through the worse of it.

Now Mozzie was gone and Neal turned to the only person who he thought might help him, even after all these years.

He missed Peter and he missed New York and at times, even the anklet. During those years he had a purpose and even if he felt like a puppet at times, he was surrounded by people he cared for and in turn, cared for him. All disappeared the moment he was kidnapped and Neal knew nothing would ever be the same.

But Peter was Peter and in the few days since Neal had shown up the agent had been everything Neal could have asked for even if Neal didn't know what he needed. Most important, Peter didn't press Neal after the doctor's appointment; he gave Neal space to make his own decision though they all knew what the right decision was.

Neal rubbed his leg as he flipped through the pile of pamphlets.

He heard a knock and turned.

"I thought you might want lunch." Peter stood with a tray of food. Neal shrugged and cleared some space off of the desk so Peter could place the tray down.

"Didn't you go to work?"

Peter smiled weakly. "I couldn't concentrate" he admitted. "What are you doing?"

It was obvious so Neal didn't bother to answer as he picked up a spoon and swirled it around the clear broth.

"Don't play with your food" Peter admonished and Neal could hear the amusement in his voice.

"He said he can't save the knee." It was the first time Neal had spoken about the consultation and Peter silently pulled a chair closer and sat.

"Rehab will be harder..." Neal glanced Peter's way. "I'm not sure I can do this alone."

"Neal, you won't be alone."

"Peter, you have a family...I can't ask you..."

"You don't have to." Peter reached over and grasped Neal's hand. "You won't be alone." Neal met Peter's gaze with a small smile. "I can't remember living without pain" he quietly said.

"You'll get there." Peter gently squeezed Neal's hand.

"Peter, I'm scared."

Neal glanced away with a quiet sigh, finally allowing himself to voice his fears. "I feel like I'm losing part of myself." He took a deep breath as his fingers curled around Peter's hand with a tight grip.

"Neal, you'll get through this" Peter quietly said. "It won't be easy but you'll be fine."

"I don't know..." Neal shook his head.

"Trust me."

Neal chuckled. "Trust was always our issue."

"Not this time" Peter countered. He carefully freed his hand with one last comforting squeeze. "We'll do this together...two old friends."

"I have the hard part" Neal lamented with a slight smile. "Just like old times."

Peter snickered as he stood. "So you think" he remarked with a twinkle in his eyes. "How long until surgery?"

Neal shrugged. "Soon I guess. I'll learn more tomorrow when I go in for more tests."

"OK." Peter nodded. "If it's alright I'll take tomorrow off and go with you."

Neal felt his throat tightened and just nodded, not trusting his voice. Peter studied him for a long minute before walking out, allowing Neal the privacy the ex-con needed.

The week was a blur as each day brought a new round of tests, evaluations, or consultations. Peter tagged along when allowed, though he didn't do much but offer support and an ear if Neal felt like talking. For the most part, he didn't.

He was pleasant and conversational when needed, mostly at the dinner table when the boys peppered him with questions.

With the doctors he was charming and confident, listening to them with an attitude that bordered on arrogance; acting like the surgery was just another day at the park.

With Peter he was quiet but open, allowing the mask to slip out of place and his true feelings to show. He was scared and unsure about the future.

The agent did his best to reassure Neal that everything would be fine, but as the surgery grew close, Peter's words sounded hollow. He meant what he said but they both knew this was unchartered territory.

On a cold, dreary Tuesday morning, Peter paced the waiting room as he watched the wall clock move at an extraordinarily slow pace.

At times, it seemed to stand still and Peter stared at it, assuring himself that the little hand did indeed keep moving.

He was alone. Elizabeth had started the morning with him but the school called and she left to pick up Charlie.

They said a few hours and just as the third hour passed and Peter began to worry, a nurse arrived to tell him Neal was in recovery and doing well.

Peter finally allowed himself to relax as he sat down for the first time all morning.

Another hour passed before he was allowed into Neal's room. Peter had been warned that his friend was in considerable pain and groggy from the morphine.

He opened the door with much trepidation. His eyes immediately sought out the leg; a thin sheet was covering Neal's lower body and the right side was...Peter looked away as he neared the bed and noticed Neal was awake and watching him.

"Hey." He pulled a chair over and sat as he ghosted his fingers along Neal's arm, settling them around the ex-con's wrist with a gentle grip.

"How do you feel?"

"Is it gone?"Neal asked as he reached his free hand towards his leg. Peter intercepted his hand.

"It's gone" Peter quietly answered as he lowered Neal's arm to the bed, all the while watching the younger man's face.

Neal closed his eyes with a quiet, resigned sigh.

"It's for the best" Neal muttered as he turned his head.

"Neal." Peter leaned over and draped his arm across his friend's chest. "Time to start living again, got it?"

"Yeah." Neal smiled weakly as he took Peter's hand. "Stay for a while" he whispered before drifting off.

"That's the plan" Peter quietly said as he settled back in the chair.

Peter quietly entered the small hospital room. Two days after surgery and Neal was still flat on his back dealing with some post surgical issues and a worsening disposition.

"How do you feel?" Peter asked as Neal watched him enter.

"Just dandy" Neal whispered with a hoarse voice as he tried in vain to get comfortable.

"Do you want help?"

"No."

Peter pulled his hands back and waited; Neal struggled briefly before giving up and closing his eyes in defeat.

"Come on." Peter spent enough time the past two days watching and learning and he knew Neal was having difficulties changing positions on his own. He lifted Neal's upper body until his friend was higher on the pillows and then straightened the numerous tubes, moving them out of the way. The residual limb was bandaged and healing well but Neal had been flirting with a fever since the surgery and that had everyone a bit worried.

"Better?"

Neal nodded as he turned his head towards Peter with a weak smile. "I'm surprised you showed up today."

Peter chuckled. Yesterday hadn't been one of Neal's finer days as he cursed everyone who came near him.

"Did you really have any doubt?"

"No" Neal answered with a slight shake of his head. "Sorry about yesterday..."

"It's over." Peter shushed him as he dragged the chair closer and sat. "How do you feel today?"

"No fever..." Neal shrugged. Everything was still too new and he wasn't sure how he felt or how he should be feeling.

"Are they going to get you out of bed?"

"Later..." Neal paused as he reached for his water. "As long as the fever stays away they said I can start moving."

"Good." Peter studied his friend. "Feel like talking?"

Neal nodded. There were things Peter needed to know; things Neal wanted him to know and now seemed like the right time.

"Who took you?" Peter started in a quiet voice.

"Keller was behind it" Neal answered in an equally quiet voice as he gauged Peter's reaction.

"Go on" the agent gently encouraged in a neutral tone.

"I was payment for a debt he owed..." Neal chuckled bitterly. "They knew everything they needed to know to keep me hostage."

"Did you try to escape?"

"Not at first." Neal shrugged. "I gave you time to find me..." his voice trailed off.

"I looked" Peter put forth. "We all did...for months finding you was our top priority..."

"Did you think I ran?"

"No..." Peter shook his head.

"Really" Neal remarked, somewhat skeptical.

"OK." Peter avoided Neal's eyes. "Maybe for a day but Mozzie was adamant that you didn't run and we found your go bag..." Peter paused. "After a few weeks I hoped you did run because every other option that crossed my mind was too horrific to think about."

Neal turned away; conflicted as to how much he should tell Peter. He felt Peter's hand on his arm and he took a deep breath before glancing at the agent.

Peter smiled as he gently squeezed Neal's hand. "I'm assuming they used you to commit crimes."

Neal nodded with a quiet sigh. "This is hard" he finally admitted in a thick voice. "The memories..." his voice cracked and he closed his eyes.

"I know." Peter said soothingly as he gripped Neal's hand tighter. "What happened to your leg?" Peter asked after several minutes of silence.

"When I figured help wasn't coming I tried to escape and each time they'd beat me until I was unconscious." Neal smiled weakly. "But that wasn't the worse of it...by the end of my captivity I was caged up like an animal in the corner of a basement."

"Neal..." Peter's voice trailed off...he didn't know what to say.

"I gave up" Neal whispered as he stared up at the ceiling, refusing to meet Peter's gaze. "I told them I wasn't doing anything else for them and they said they'd kill me. I told them to go ahead..." he paused and finally glanced Peter's way with a weak smile, surprised to see Peter's watery eyes.

Don't...Peter if you start crying I'm not going to hold it together."

"Go head. I won't hold it against you." Peter wiped his face on his sleeve and took a deep breath. Once he felt sure of his voice he quietly spoke. "Neal, what did they do to you?"

"I only know what they told me."

"Who are they?" Peter leaned closer to the bed and studied his friend.

"I woke up in a hospital room almost a week after the car I was driving was hit by a train..." Neal smiled wearily as he glanced at Peter. "Mozzie was there."

"What?" Peter stood abruptly. "Mozzie knew where to find you?" Peter took two steps back.

"Peter what's wrong?"

The agent didn't seem to hear him as he paced around the small room, mumbling to himself.

"He said he didn't know where you were and then he disappeared. Neal, I assumed you called him."

"No..."

"He lied to me..."

"Peter!" Neal raised his voice as loud as possible. "Peter, he's dead. There's no point getting upset over something that happened ten years ago. Please...sit."

"You're right." Peter sat and lowered his head, briefly hiding his face in his hands. When he glanced towards his friend, Neal could feel the pain radiating through Peter's body.

"I could have helped you" the agent whispered.

"I know." Neal shivered slightly. "He did what he thought was right."

"Why didn't you call me?"

Neal chuckled. "It took months for my mind to heal and my memories to come back. Peter by then Mozzie had faked my death and convinced me it was best if we disappeared..."

"Best for whom?" Peter asked.

"For you and for me...Peter I thought I was a fugitive and I didn't want to go back to jail and put you in that position."

The door opened and they both glanced that way. "Time for your therapy" the nurse announced.

Peter took that opportunity to bolt out of the room without saying a word.

Neal eyed the TV with little interest. He grabbed the newspaper and glanced at the first page before tossing it aside. Three days after surgery and he was feeling good; better than good. He wasn't in pain. It was such a long forgotten feeling that he almost forgot what it cost; until he tried to change positions and realized how hard it was with one leg.

He was getting stronger; they were working on upper body strength while they waited for his leg to heal. Neal was antsy, he wanted to get up and start moving around but the doctors wouldn't allow it.

"Can I come in?"

Neal glanced up to see Elizabeth and he smiled.

"How do you feel?"

"Good" Neal answered but Elizabeth already knew that. After two weeks of watching Neal hobble around and try to function when the pain was almost unbearable it was such a relief to see him so relaxed.

"You look wonderful" Elizabeth remarked as she set the bags down. "I hope you're hungry."

He nodded as she pulled out a few cartons from their favorite Chinese restaurant.

"Anything is better than the food here" Neal said as he grabbed a carton and a pair of chopsticks.

"I see your appetite is back." Elizabeth opened up her soup and carefully ate a spoonful.

"Is Peter angry?" Neal asked as he as took another helping of Chicken Chow Mein.

"He's not angry."

"So, he didn't come because..." Neal's voice trailed off as he grabbed an egg roll and dipped it in sauce.

"Jason has a game tonight so Peter took Charlie. Guy's night" she finished with a smile. "And it gives me some free time so I thought I'd come visit."

"Mozzie did what he thought was right."

Elizabeth finished up her soup and silently cleaned up, tossing everything into the original plastic bag. Finally she sat on the edge of the bed, eye level with Neal.

"Did Mozzie tell you anything about the year you were missing?"

Neal shook his head no.

"Peter and Mozzie worked alone and together to find you but they had a pact...if either found anything they would share that information."

"And Mozzie found me..." Neal paused.

"And he didn't tell Peter" Elizabeth concluded with a frown. "Neal, he thought you called Mozzie and he wasn't happy but he accepted it. He knew things weren't great between you two when you were kidnapped and he let you go." She shrugged. "But he never forgot you. Neal you were always the elephant in the room..." she paused with a chuckle as her thoughts wandered back in time.

"What?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "It was rough when we got the boys. Jason was confused and he struggled, especially at night. Peter would take him to the living room and try to get him back to sleep. I was changing Charlie's diaper when Peter walked in with Jason sleeping in his arms" She smiled at the memories. "He asked me what Neal would think if he saw us now."

"I would have thought those boys were very lucky to have you as parents" Neal quietly chimed in. "Elizabeth when you go home tonight tell Peter I'm sorry but I can't change what happened..." he shrugged. "Tell him I need him now."

Elizabeth leaned over and kissed his forehead. "He knows that and he's not going anywhere."

"I know." Neal looked away with a quiet sigh.

"Neal, maybe you should tell Peter yourself." She reached down and pulled out a pad of paper and some colored pencils. "In case you feel like drawing" Elizabeth remarked as she watched Neal's reaction.

"I haven't drawn in ages" he admitted as he picked up a pencil and twirled it in his hand.

"Might be time to start again" Elizabeth said as she stood. "Neal, we told the boys as much as we thought they could understand but they may stare or ask questions when they see you."

Neal smiled. "It's fine. Thanks for everything..."

"Talk to him" Elizabeth gently suggested before walking out.

"You're out of bed" Peter exclaimed as he walked in and saw his friend sitting in the chair by the window. A pair of crutches leaned against the wall. Neal looked up and smiled.

"Yeah, about time" Neal said as he gently rubbed the residual limb. The bandaged end was barely sticking out below the shorts that Neal was wearing.

"How do you feel?"

Peter took off his coat and hung it from the door knob.

"Bored" Neal admitted as he turned the chair and faced the agent. "They won't let me practice with a prosthetic until I heal more."

"But you can go home on crutches right?"

"I guess." Neal shrugged as he grabbed the pad from the small table. "I can still draw..." He handed it to Peter.

"This is good." Peter stared down at a perfect pencil drawing of his family including Sam and Lucky. When he glanced Neal's way, the ex-con refused to meet his gaze.

"Neal, we've got your room ready. It's not big but at least you'll be away from Charlie." Neal had commented often that the younger boy had two volumes, loud and louder.

"You shouldn't have gone to any trouble...

"Hey, Jason and I had fun doing it. There's only a shower downstairs so we bought a shower chair for you to use."

"Thank you." Neal lowered his head and stared at the floor.

"What's wrong?" Peter grabbed a chair and sat down. "Neal?" Peter prompted when his friend remained quiet. "Are you feeling ok?"

"I'm fine." Neal sat up straighter and smiled weakly at Peter.

"You don't seem fine. Do you need me to get a doctor?" The worry in Peter's voice caused Neal to feel worse.

"I'm going to get a doctor." Before Peter could stand Neal reached out and grabbed his arm. "Don't" he pleaded in an even tone.

"Neal, talk to me."

"Mozzie always said guys like us don't have happy endings" Neal quietly began. "I never truly believed him until I woke up in that hospital bed with half my body in a cast."

"Neal..." Peter reached a tentative hand out before lowering his arm to his side.

"For much of my life I didn't feel in control and the accident was just the icing..." Neal shrugged. "At that point I didn't care if I lived or died. I don't know why Mozzie stayed with me..."

"He was your friend."

Neal chuckled bitterly. "He was and in return he got stuck taking care of a bitter, broken down man." Neal traced the scars on his right hand, another reminder of the accident. "He begged me to take care of the leg and he tried to convince me to call you."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because you would have come running and you would have helped me and that's not what I wanted. It's not what I deserved."

"Neal you're wrong." Peter leaned a little closer and ghosted his hand along Neal's arm, finally settling it on the ex-con's shoulder.

"Am I?" Neal peered through wet lashes at his friend. "I truly feel Mozzie died because I didn't want to live. I think it killed him..."

"No." Peter grabbed a tissue and handed it to Neal. "Mozzie could have left at any time. Or he could have called me if it became too much for him. He did neither..."

"It would have been betrayal in his eyes." Neal wiped his eyes and then his nose.

"For several days after Mozzie died I sat in a dark room with a gun to my head but I couldn't pull the trigger." He mimicked the action until Peter took his hand and held it tight.

"Peter, I didn't want to die. No matter how bad things were I couldn't do it."

"I'm glad you didn't" Peter whispered as he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, refusing to release Neal's hand.

Neal took a deep breath. "I gave everything away and packed a bag and that's when I ended up on your doorstep."

"You wanted my help" Peter said cautiously.

"Part of me hoped you would slam the door in my face" Neal countered as he pulled his hand away. "I would not have blamed you...but instead you asked me in and here we are..."

"Where are we Neal?"

"Peter, I want my happy ending." Neal looked away, clearly embarrassed.

The agent sat back and studied his friend. "Neal, are you willing to work for it?" The ex-con glanced his way.

"Every ending has a beginning" Peter quietly remarked. "I was going to wait until you got out..." Peter stood. "I have some paperwork in the car. I'll be back in a few."

He returned a few minutes later with his briefcase and a wheelchair.

"There's a really nice atrium on the first floor. Or we can go to the cafeteria. Are you up for it?"

"I'm a little hungry" Neal admitted as he reached for his robe. "You're going to have to help me."

"What do I do?" Peter pushed the chair closer.

"Set the lock and then help me up." Neal pushed himself half-way up and allowed Peter to steady him as he transferred to the wheelchair. Peter grabbed a blanket and draped it over Neal's lap and the ex-con quickly covered his legs.

"Not ready for the stares" Neal admitted.

"I know" Peter said as he grabbed his briefcase and wheeled Neal out of the room.

Peter nursed his coffee while keeping an amused eye on his friend. Neal seemed to be making up for lost time as he quietly finished up his second sandwich. Peter wasn't the best judge of appearances but Elizabeth thought Neal was fifteen or twenty pounds lighter than before the kidnapping. He barely ate before the surgery but the agent assumed the pain and the pills had something to do with his lack of appetite.

"Do you want another?" Peter asked as he watched Neal eat the last few crumbs.

Neal glanced his way with a slight smirk. "I'm good" he said as he grabbed the a few chips and popped them in his mouth. "So, what's in the briefcase?" Neal asked after cleaning his hands on a napkin. "Is it the secret to my happy ending?"

Peter chuckled. "Since when do you believe in fairy tales?"

Neal shrugged. "I don't know what I believe in" Neal admitted after several minutes of silence. "I just ..." He paused with a sheepish smile. "I'm ready to live again but I think I need a little help."

"OK." Peter grabbed his suitcase. "First I need a favor."

"Go ahead" Neal urged cautiously.

"I told the boys to call you Uncle Neal and I'm hoping you're ok with that."

"Really...?" Neal paused, somewhat taken aback and not sure how to respond to that.

"Mr. Caffrey is way too formal and I don't want them to call you Neal" Peter explained. "I mean if you want to continue with Mr. Caffrey..."

"No" Neal put forth quickly. "That makes me feel really old... Uncle Neal is fine" he added with a genuine smile.

"Thank you." Peter opened the briefcase and pulled out a folder. "If you're interested I can bring you on as a full time consultant..."

"A job?" Neal asked hesitantly as he took the folder.

Peter nodded. "A job that pays competitive wages with all the benefits an agent would get."

"I...I don't know what to say." Neal avoided Peter's gaze.

"Think about it" Peter suggested. "It will be awhile before you're back on your feet..."

"You mean foot" Neal interrupted with a smirk.

"Neal..."

"My leg, I can joke about it."

Peter merely shook his head but he couldn't deny the fact that this felt right; and it made him realize how much he had missed Neal.

"Peter, I thought you were going to retire."

"Give me a reason to stick around...at least for a few years."

"So you missed me?"

Peter nodded. "I did." He shrugged with a deep sigh.

"Can I go undercover?"

"As long as you don't have to make a fast getaway" Peter answered with a sly smile. "Neal, we'll show the kids how it's done..." he paused as he studied his friend. "It's an option if you want it." Peter pulled another file from his briefcase.

"June left you some money." He pushed the portfolio towards Neal. "She put me in charge until you came home..." He gave Neal a few minutes to read through it. "We put a lot into stocks and bonds and you've done well." Neal glanced at the numbers and then up at Peter, speechless.

"She knew I was alive?" Neal quietly asked.

Peter nodded. "She put your stuff and most of Byron's clothes into storage. When you're up for it, we can go to New York and start going through it. We'll stop at the bank and do all the necessary paperwork to transfer control back to you."

Neal sat back in the chair, clearly shocked by everything.

"Neal, are you tired? Do you want to go back?"

"Peter, can I get a candy bar?"

"You want a candy bar?" Peter asked, somewhat surprised.

Neal nodded. "Anything chocolate and then we can go back."

"OK." Peter walked off, returning a few minutes later with an assortment of candy bars. He stuffed everything into his briefcase and quietly pushed Neal back to the room.

Once inside the room Peter helped Neal into bed and then placed the candy on the tray. The ex-con just stared at them.

"Hey. What's going on?" Peter sat on the edge of the bed.

"They'd play games with me when I was in the cage." Neal began in a quiet, monotone voice. "One of them would dangle a candy bar on a string and I'd have to grab it before they pulled it away."

"And if you didn't catch it?" Peter asked.

"I'd get nothing to eat or worse, just chocolate for days until I was sick to my stomach..." Neal paused, glancing Peter's way. "I've not had a piece of chocolate since the accident."

"So why now?"

Neal didn't answer. Eyes wide he stared at the candy; motionless. Peter watched for as long as he could and finally he swiped the candy and tossed them in his briefcase.

Neal didn't protest. "I'm not ready" Neal admitted with a quiet sigh. "It's just chocolate" he whispered without much conviction.

It was much more and they both knew it.

"Maybe you should talk to someone" Peter suggested in an even tone as he gauged the ex-con's reaction.

Neal merely shrugged as he burrowed a little further under the blanket.

"I'm going to take off. See you tomorrow." Peter reached a hand out and grasped Neal's shoulder, offering his friend some comfort. As he turned to leave, he noticed the picture Neal had drawn. Peter picked it up, along with a pencil and took a few minutes to draw an addition. Satisfied that he was never going to be Picasso, Peter placed the drawing down and walked out.

Neal listened to Peter leave and when his curiosity got the best of him, he reached over and grabbed the drawing. Peter had added a new member to his family; a stick figure with an over sized hat and a missing leg.

Peter was not in the best of moods when he entered the hospital two nights later. He had forgotten about the parent/teacher conference the previous evening...maybe wishful thinking on his part...and his morning had started with the news of one of his men being shot while undercover. He had talked to Neal a couple of times over that period and he knew his friend wasn't feeling that well. Another set-back, more fevers and most frustrating, no idea when Neal would get released from the hospital.

Peter shifted the bag he was carrying to the other hand as he entered the elevator and hit the right floor. Elizabeth had made several dishes and tossed in a few books she thought Neal might enjoy.

Peter opened the door with a little knock.

"Can I come in?"

Neal nodded from the chair he was sitting in, wrapped in several blankets. Peter eyed the IV and took a deep breath; it meant the fever was persistent and Neal was on continuous antibiotics.

"How do you feel?"

Neal shrugged as he tried to sit up straighter.

"How high?" Peter asked as he glanced at the chart.

"100 at the last check" Neal answered as he fumbled with the blankets. One fell and Peter scooped it up and wrapped it around his friend.

"Hope you're hungry. Elizabeth made a feast for you."

It smelled good but he wasn't that hungry. "Just a little" Neal said as Peter scooped some stew onto a paper plate. Peter handled it to him along with a plastic fork.

"Do they know what's causing the fevers?"

Neal shook his head no. "If it continues, they're talking exploratory surgery."

"Shit" Peter mumbled as he sank down on the plastic chair. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Are you walking at all?"

"No" Neal said with a mouth full of food. "How's your guy?"

"He'll be ok." Peter rubbed at his face before reaching into the bag and pulling out the books. "El thought you might enjoy these."

"Thank her for me." Neal finished up and surprised Peter by dishing out another serving.

"How'd it go last night?"

"Don't get me started." Peter stood and started pacing. "If one more teacher tells me Charlie can't sit still..." he threw his hands up in exasperation. "I've seen him sit still for hours if it's something he's interested in. Neal, I'm really thinking of putting him in a private school."

"Peter, he does seem a little hyper..."

"He is. I know that." Peter continued his pacing. "He's been fighting since the day he was born and I don't think medication is the answer."

"But if he needs it to concentrate..."

"Now you sound like Elizabeth" Peter countered with a wave of his arm. "That kid was born six weeks premature and he struggled to survive..."

"Peter I didn't know."

"I know." Peter took a deep breath. "He was in distress so they did an emergency c-section. That's when they discovered a bed of tumors in his mother." Peter paused. "They never saw it on the ultra sounds and she thought the pain was due to the pregnancy."

Peter finally sat. "Nothing came easy for him." Peter glanced Neal's way. "We're going to get him evaluated by a doctor..."

"Maybe we can go together" Neal suggested with a slight smile. "Two for one special" he added quietly.

Peter chuckled. "Some days..."

"Do you ever regret it?"

"Regret?" Peter asked, momentarily confused. "You mean the boys?" Peter shook his head. "No. They're great kids and I'm proud to be their dad..." he paused briefly. "I wish it had happened a little earlier but maybe this was meant to be." Peter sat back with a deep sigh.

"You, on the other hand...Neal, I'd do anything to give those ten years back to you. You know that, right?"

Neal simply nodded. He knew it and though he wouldn't say it out loud, he regretted not calling the agent for help.

"Do you want my long list of regrets?"

"No." Peter stood and quickly cleaned up the remainder of the food. "What I want is to get you out of here and for you to figure out what you want to do with your life."

"Tall order" Neal whispered as he shifted in the chair. "Can you help me back to bed?"

Peter moved the pole closer to the bed and then leaned over and wrapped an arm around Neal, pulling his friend to an upright position. Peter was shocked at how shaky Neal was and it took a few minutes until the ex-con felt steady enough to hop the few feet, while leaning heavily against Peter.

Once in bed, Neal closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, worn out just from those few steps.

"Neal, do you want me to leave?"

"No." Neal opened one eye. "I didn't end up on your doorstep to be by myself."

"No, you didn't." Peter smiled as he pulled the chair close and sat. "You should try to rest" he remarked as he studied his friend; Neal looked tired and he knew the long hospital stay was starting to wear on him.

"I talked to Diana this morning."

Neal's eyes widened a bit as he glanced Peter's way. For some reason this was the first time either had spoken about their old team.

"How is she?" Neal asked after several minutes of silence.

"She's good" Peter answered. "She has my old job and she recently married her partner." Peter chuckled. "They just had their third child." Peter pulled out his phone and shuffled through his photos. "Recent picture" he said as he handed it to Neal.

"Is that Theo?" Neal eyed the oldest child. "Mozzie talked about him a lot..." Neal paused; he always felt guilty when Mozzie brought up the child he missed more than he was willing to admit.

"She wants to see you" Peter put forth when his friend grew quiet. "Jones is eager to see you too."

Neal remained quiet so Peter continued. "He's head of the crimes division In Chicago and engaged for the third time." Peter laughed. "He swears this is the right one."

Neal managed a small smile. "I'd like to see them" he admitted. "I have to do something for Mozzie." Neal quietly said. "He considered New York his home and I want to bury him there..."

"What?" It took a few minutes for that to register. "Where is...?"

"My suitcase" Neal put forth before Peter could finish. "I owe him that much" Neal stated firmly. "I need to find the right place."

"We'll do it together" Peter said. "We'll find something online and when you feel up to it we'll have a small ceremony...ok?"

Neal nodded as he curled in to himself and pulled the blankets tighter.

"Get some rest Neal. I'll stick around for a little while."

Neal didn't need much encouragement to close his eyes and it wasn't long before he was sleeping.

Peter stood back and secretly watched as Neal maneuvered the parallel bars on his temporary prosthetic leg. Finally, two weeks after his surgery, Neal was feeling good and making progress. They were even talking discharge in a day or two.

Neal finished two laps and Peter let out a loud cheer. The ex-con turned, clearly surprised to see Peter standing there.

"What are you doing here?" Neal allowed the therapist to help him into the wheelchair, clearly spent from the short walk.

"I'm taking the boys to the park and I'd thought you'd like to come with us."

"I don't know..."

"Come on. You're going to turn down a day pass out of this place."

Neal shrugged. "I'm going to slow you down..."

"Bring the crutches with you."

Neal glanced at his therapist and then back at Peter. "Fresh air sounds good" he remarked. "I'm not wearing shorts" he added as they headed back to his room.

"Where are the boys?"

"I left them in your room."

"Stop" Neal ordered suddenly, a few doors from his room. "He stood and gripped Peter's arms to steady himself.

"You don't have to walk..."

"Yes, I do." Neal took a couple of steps while keeping his hand firmly around Peter's arm.

"Hey" he greeted as they walked in; both boys quietly stared at him with their eyes clearly on the prosthetic.

"It's ok" Neal whispered when he sensed Peter was going to reprimand them.

"Does it hurt?" Charlie asked as he took a step closer.

"No." Neal sat down on the bed.

"Can I touch it?"

"Go ahead." Once again, Neal spoke before Peter had a chance. Charlie reached out a hesitant hand and touched Neal near the knee area. Just as fast he pulled his hand away. "It's feels weird" he announced and then retreated. "Can we go now?"

"Yeah." Peter found a pair of sweats and handed them to Neal. "Do you need help?"

Neal nodded; quickly they got the sweats on him, both knowing they were being watched.

"Neal, you're using the wheelchair to the car."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Peter..."

"Uncle Neal, you're not going to win" Jason remarked as he passed the bickering men, dragging his brother by the arm.

As Neal struggled, Peter started to regret taking Neal with them. He was stubborn and he refused to use the crutches. Peter should have insisted the leg stay back; instead Neal walked with an unsteady gait, leaning heavily against the agent.

The boys had bolted ahead long ago; Peter could see them on the basketball court with some kids from the neighborhood.

"Sit" Peter ordered when they finally approached the nearest bench.

Neal didn't argue as he sank to the bench with a relieved moan, rubbing both thighs.

"I need to practice" Neal said once he found his voice.

"That's what rehab is" Peter countered as he glanced over his shoulder catching sight of his sons. "You're using the crutches on the way back."

Again, Neal didn't argue. He leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling the sun beating down.

"I missed this so much."

"Missed what?" Peter asked.

"Everything" Neal whispered. "Being free...the sun." Neal sighed before admitting the next. "You" he said so quietly that Peter barely heard. But he did and he smiled.

"I hated you for so long" Neal continued.

"Why?" Peter kept his tone even though it bothered him to hear Neal say that.

"I don't know..." Neal wasn't sure it was wise to continue this conversation.

"Sure you do." Peter glanced sideways. "Was it because I didn't find you?"

Neal looked away with an audible sigh.

"Neal, it bothered me for a long time that I didn't continue but I thought I was doing the right thing." He reached over and tapped Neal's shoulder. "At some point we have to move beyond the past. Can you do that?"

Neal looked at him. "You don't know half of it" he said in a monotone voice.

"I know." Peter smiled reassuringly, though it was the unknown that kept him up at night. "Can we focus on the future?"

"Yeah." Neal managed a weary smile. "If it helps I hated myself for hating you." He chuckled. "The last ten years have really messed with my mind."

Any retort Peter was going to make was stopped when he heard Charlie calling him. He jumped up as his son neared him.

"Jason..." he said between breaths. "Daddy he fell and he's bleeding."

"Stay here" Peter said to Neal as he grabbed Charlie's hand and raced towards the basketball courts.