What We Become, a white collar fanfic

I wrote this story for Colakirk on an exchange. I posted it at first at ff-exchange over at livejournal, but after much pestering on her behalf, yes, CK, I'm calling it pestering, (though it was a nice pestering! ;D ) I decided to post it here.

Now, flames will be ignored and laughed at.

WARNING!: there is corporal punishment, spanking, the swatting of someone's butt, whichever you want to call it, abuse, etc, etc, etc, in this story. I'm not placing a gun in your guts, so why on EARTH are you reading it if you don't like it? I'm just saying!

The ones that like it, I'm glad.

What We Become

June 27th

"Neal."

The sole tone in which his name was said was enough to stop his tracks of whatever it was he was about to do…it was a warning tone he knew well enough not to mess with, and he still couldn't believe the man before him held so much authority over him. No one had ever had some before, not even when he was a small boy.

He winced, his hand aching to just rub his still intact and painless bottom before it became too painful to even touch…though he trusted the man before him to be fair, and in a way, gentle, with him.

He sometimes surprised himself at how different it was just some months before…before he came to be under the tutelage of one Doctor Peter Burke.

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Six Months Before…

January 24th

It had been a long time since he last had seen his real self, the young man with a nice, smooth shave and with his curls nicely combed and taken back. It was a real shame his clothes weren't as good as he was used, but he'd have to do with the clothes the FBI had provided for.

He was as good as ready to be out of here, still not believing his good luck. It wasn't every day that they came looking for a CI to work with. It was thanks to his knowledge at the Rafael's that he had been able to work with Agent Jones and Agent Berrigan. He had to admit, though, even to himself, that his extreme dislike for violence had aided him, as well. He disliked all kind of weapons, as he had one that outweighed the most powerful one…his brain. He was a clever man, always able to outrun most situations.

That was the main reason he was not panting and, literally, freaking out. He had been told he was to stay with one Mr. Burke and his wife, a mid aged man who was wealthy enough to keep a suburban home. His wife had her own business. All seemed good enough…too good actually, until he was told what this Burke did.

"A DOCTOR?" he had gone out of himself as he felt his throat closing up on himself, his pupils start dilating and his heart almost beating itself out of his chest. Ever since he could remember, he had hated doctors with most passion on his almost twenty years of life.

Of course, as expected, the Bureau had all but ignored his complaints offering to instead stay at prison. Seeing an easier escape from a doctor's house, he had taken option a.

And now, days later, he was getting himself ready to confront this situation, yet he could only pray he would come intact from it.

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Juanuary 25th

"Slept well?"

He was still wary of the man, but he had been always known for his politeness, so faking a smile he nodded. "Very." He said. "The bed is most…exquisite. Elizabeth made quite a job at decorating the room." He praised.

"Hmm." Was all the older man could say, taking another sip from his coffee, just as Elizabeth descended the stairs.

"Make yourself at home, Neal, don't be shy about going your way anywhere here…after all, this'll be your home from now on." She said with a smile, as she fixed her husband's tie slightly.

"I'll be home a bit late today, hun." Peter said, rising from his seat just to give his wife a peck on her lips and put his white coat on, unaware of the nerves that ran through Neal's body just at the sight of it.

"I'll pick the laundry then and grab something for dinner…I have the Caraccolo's wedding to attend today…so…"

He was entranced by it. He had never imagined how a normal couple, if this was, indeed, a normal couple, got along. As long as he could remember, he had been from foster home to foster home. Most of the foster fathers had been too immersed in alcohol to know any better than the bottle at their hand, or too busy with work to even care to learn the name of the kids they had. As for the foster mothers, they mostly rarely cared. Of course, he never stayed long enough anywhere to see a change, and by the age of twelve, he had made himself scarce.

"…pick you up for lunch, so please, call if you have any plan changes." Neal nodded, knowing it was directed towards him, and so, his first day as CI began. With him watching Doctor Burke and Elizabeth leave their house, as he waited for the agent that was supposed to pick him up.

And just as he waited, he looked around every window, door, and escape route he could muster, his escape plan being formulated.

The last thing he wanted was to be living with a doctor.

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February 5th

He would have never imagined it. He would have never even pictured it would be like this.

Here he was sitting between the doctor and his wife as they sat to watch the movie, HE, Neal, had picked up for the night.

It had been barely two weeks since he had come, but the Burkes had pretty quickly gotten adapted to him…or better yet, he had adapted to the Burkes pretty quickly. He knew not which way it was.

He glanced down at the pup, Satchmo, who was very contentedly using his foot as pillow while they all sat to watch the Saturday Movie Night, as the couple had call it. He couldn't help but remember how they had included HIM on their weekly date night, turning it more into a 'family' night, as Elizabeth had called it.

It had all started as a joke, with him telling Elizabeth he was going to stay 'home alone' the night before. Apparently, either Elizabeth had taken it as if he was feeling abandoned or Peter could see his home destroyed. Either of two, both of them had stated next morning that they were going to have a Movie Night.

"You guys shouldn't worry about me, really!" He had said, "I'm going to be fine."

"Oh, don't worry about that, sweetie." Elizabeth had reassured with a wave of her hand, "you just worry about picking up a good movie."

So here they were, with him sitting between them.

He had given the movie to Peter and then turned to have a sit, but Elizabeth had patted the place just besides her, so he had complied, sitting rather stiffly, though trying to relax.

"Ok, get ready then." Peter had said, going towards the couch. He had had the intention to move and give his spot to Peter, but the man had just smiled and sat at his other side, resting his arm on the couch's back.

Half an hour later and Neal had yet to relax, though he was aware of the fact that the couple had entwined hands on his back. Without meaning to, Neal started relaxing, forgetting for a moment that he was sitting between a doctor and his wife, and just slid down a bit.

An hour later, he wasn't aware that the movie had ended, but he was half aware that his head was resting on a warm and firm place. He was also aware that something was caressing his hair, but he did not know what it was nor cared to find out.

He heard some mumbling and two voices talking. He felt the warmth going away and he couldn't suppress the whimpering that came out of him. He only wanted to curl and continue sleeping.

But then, he felt someone shake his arm, his name being called. "Noo…" He heard the whine coming out of his lips, but he saw not the smiles that crept to the faces of the two around him.

"C'mon, buddy. Bedtime." He heard the voice say, but he made no sense to move, and so, he felt someone shift him and make him stand, but somehow he still leaned against the warm chest.

After that, he wasn't aware of anything. He wasn't aware of the arms carrying him, or of his clothes and shoes being taken off him, or of the gentle, feminine arms tucking him in.

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February 15th

"Neal, honey, dinner's ready!"

"Coming!"

He quickly scanned his room for anything that would give his plan out. It had not been even a month since he came to stay with the Burkes and he already felt like a kid!

Not that he disliked the Burkes, not at all, it was simply that he needed to feel independent and…well…adult!

"Neal! Dinner!"

He sighed, giving a glance at the door. That had been Peter, meaning they were already sitting at the table and waiting for him. He gave another scan at the room, happy with himself that nothing was out of place except for a book he had consciously placed at his night stand.

Once he got to the table, after a quick dash through the stairs, he found his surrogate 'parents' at their spots. For a reason unknown to him, he smiled at the thought of being with them, even though he wanted to scowl, rant and all but give the tantrum of his life in a desperate claim of having his life back…his independence back.

It all stopped the moment Elizabeth smiled at him and asked him something about his day, just as Peter gave all his attention to him as he answered. His heart swelled with glee. For a moment, he forgot this was just momentary but just as he moved in his seat and his anklet bumped against something he remembered once more he had to find a way to get away from all this before it became too late.

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March 2nd

He had never imagined that the young doctor would be so furious with him. True, he had been reckless about his safety, but he had never expected this.

He kept glancing up from his seat at the sofa, looking how Elizabeth regarded him with a disappointed and yet stern expression while Peter paced back and forth.

"It was something I had to do, Peter…besides, I'm perfectly fine!" He defended after Peter stopped yelling. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, as the older man moved close to him, pulled him by his arm and once he was standing delivered two hard swats to his rear, making his eyes widen in surprise.

"Never, EVER, do something to endanger your life. Am I clear?" Peter asked, unaware of the surprised look Elizabeth was sporting, making Neal all the more embarrassed.

Neal wanted to rant, to punch the man in the face, to tell him he was not a small kid he could go smacking around…but all that died the moment he saw the look of concern…and…care on the man's face. "Yes, sir." He answered, surprising himself. "I'm sorry." He finally said, and he meant it. He had never wanted to scare the man by jumping from a moving vehicle…not that he had expected for the FBI to inform his 'guardian' of his every move and act.

Peter sighed, before nodding and letting go of his arm. "Stay in your room until dinner." He ordered, not even glancing his wife's way. Neal only nodded and was out of there.

He reached his room and then rubbed his behind. It hurt. He hadn't anticipated for it to hurt, but it HURT.

It had only been a few weeks since he had come here, and already, he was getting too attached to the Burkes. He disliked that slightly. The only person who he had been attached with since he could remember was his friend Mozzie, and yet, he had not seen him in almost six months, only hearing from him from strange postcards he received with different names and hidden messages such as "Everything swell. Mom says hi." Which translated to, "The job is good, but I could use your help. Missing you."

He sighed then. No one had cared, never, to reprimand him, and then, here he was getting swatted like a two year old and worst part was, he truly felt sorry for scaring them both.

He looked down his window. His plan was turning out well. In a week or so, he would be out of here. He regretted having to leave the Burkes, though. Somehow, he'd come to think of Peter as a surrogate father and not a doctor and of Elizabeth as a surrogate mother. This was not good. He had to get out of here…soon.

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May 10th

A sigh escaped his lips as he sat at the bench waiting for his 'father', or better yet, his jailer, to come and pick him up.

As Peter's car came into view, he tried to give his cheerful smile, trying to look cheerful and optimistic.

Entering the car, he smiled happily at the older man, not paying attention to what the man was saying. He kept glancing at the folded paper in his hands.

"Neal?"

He looked up at the sound of his name, but he paid up to no attention to his call. "Neal, buddy, you okay?"

He turned to look at the older man, smiling happily at him. "Of course." He said, praying to all entities that his eyes wouldn't start leaking as they had done previously.

"So…what's that in your hands?" Peter asked him, eying from the corner of his eyes the paper still clutched in his hands.

"Oh…nothing." He muttered with a shrug, before he changed the subject and started talking about the latest game Peter and him had seen….or better yet, Peter had seen while he tried to read.

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May 11th

"Ok, what's wrong?" Elizabeth finally asked, watching at the monotone answers and the far-out look coming from their charge.

"N-nothing." Neal answered quickly, too quickly.

"Right." Peter said, placing his fork against his plate of green salad with too much force. "you've been like that since yesterday, so either you got in trouble somehow or you're planning something."

"What? No…no." Neal said, smiling at the couple. "I'm fi-"

"No, Neal, you're not." Elizabeth said gently, reaching out and placing her hand over his. "Peter and I can tell something is wrong." Silence ensued then. "Sweetie, you can trust us. If we can help you, we will."

"Does this have to do with the Metropolitan Museum's pamphlet about the Rembrandt's collection showing off this weekend?" Peter asked giving him a pointed look.

Neal looked up with surprise in his eyes. "How did you-"

"I found it while doing laundry. We put two and two together and…" Elizabeth shrugged as she explained.

"It's out of my radius." Neal mumbled playing with the food in his plate, oblivious to the look Peter and El gave each other. With a sigh, the young man stood, taking his plate with him. "It was a wonderful dinner, Elizabeth." He said with a smile before leaving to the kitchen, once more ignoring the meaningful look Elizabeth gave to her husband.

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May 12th

He stood back, looking at his canvas with brush in hand ready to modify or perfect something, unaware of the double pair of eyes looking at him. He gave the painting a slight touch with the brush, before standing back once more and giving a satisfied nod at the finished work.

"It's beautiful." A voice called at his back, before a gentle hand was placed on his back.

"Thanks, El." He said, trying to hide the slight blush that came to his cheeks as he cleaned his hand on a cloth. "It's just something I was thinking about." He said as he looked at the picture of Satchmo lying around besides Peter and himself with Elizabeth standing on the back window looking at them.

"Peter and I need to go do an errand, we'll be waiting for you downstairs in ten minutes." El told him, giving him a peck on his cheek and leaving the room before he could protest.

Feeling like a child once more, unable to stay home alone for a couple of minutes while 'Mom' and 'Dad' did an errand, he sat quietly on the back seat of the Taurus not even glancing at where they were going.

It was as they stopped that Neal could only gawk at the place. "You-"

"I made a few phone calls… Ok…Elizabeth made a few phone calls, and well, it's gotta count to have her uncle as your boss, Neal."

"You called Hughes?" Neal asked in surprise, looking at the Metropolitan Museum in excitement as they walked towards it.

"Of course. He always say I'm her favorite niece, after all." Elizabeth said with a grin.

"You're his only niece." Peter said with a shake of his head, making Neal grin, before he stopped in his tracks.

"What?" Elizabeth asked looking at the very worried looking kid.

"I should have worn one of my suits!"

With laughs, the trio entered the museum, and for the rest of the Sunday afternoon they spent the time as Neal explained everything looking more like a twelve year old with a new toy than the young man in a museum.

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June 2nd

He was not a little kid! He wasn't! He was a fully grown man, an adult capable of taking his own decisions. If he wanted to go out he could go out, even if it was raining and he had been sneezing early on. If he wanted to walk the dog, then he could very well walk the damn dog!

"Stop sulking and man up." The order came from the man sitting at the other side of the living room, but he didn't want to hear it.

"I'm NOT sulking." He muttered between teeth. He had crossed his arms because he was uncomfortable. He was looking at the carpet because it had a nice pattern, and his upper lip had gone a bit inside because….because…well, he didn't know exactly why, but it wasn't a pout, contrary to what Elizabeth had said.

"Really? You could've fool me!" came the sarcastic reply.

"I don't see why I can't go out! It's not like I'm going to run away!" Yet.

"Enough!" Peter roared, glaring at him. "If you're just going to complain and sulk and act like a little boy then go to your room!"

"FINE!" Neal roared back, standing from his seat, glaring darkly at the dictator who just turned to the TV and stepped strongly, not stomping mind you, just with much force up to his room, where he then closed the door a bit stronger than what he had to which caused it to make a slamming noise.

He waited for a moment or two to see if someone was going to come scold him. When nothing happened he felt angry for some reason, so he walked to his bed and lay there angry at what had happened.

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He could not believe this. If he was trying to prove that he wasn't a kid, he was doing one hell of a mess.

"What happened?" his wife asked entering the room.

"Neal's sulking." He said hearing the stomping go up and then the slamming of a door. His face contorting darkly, he stood intending to go straight up and slam his hand against a rear, but El placed a hand on his arm.

"Leave him." She said shaking his head. "I think he's coming down with something."

He snorted at that, raising a brow at his wife. "Really, El, I very much doubt it."

His wife just shook her head and walked towards the kitchen, though warning bells were already going on in his head.

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"Neal, something wrong with your food?"

Elizabeth's voice brought him back, as he looked down at his untouched plate of caprese salad.

"No…" He cleared his throat, which for a reason kept feeling clotted. "Everything is…delicious." He smiled, and to make his point through, he took a big scoop of tomatoes and cheese, which for a reason turned out tasting like squashed goo, leaving behind a rather sour taste. He tried as hard as he could not to grimace and to smile, begging whoever it was up high that the couple which where intently looking at him would buy it.

He then decided to take a drink of the wine Elizabeth had served with dinner, and for a reason, it too felt out of place. He was fine, he never- "Neal, you're sick." Peter's voice cut through him, and it was all it took for him to feel dread going through his body.

"No." he squeaked.

"Honey, I do believe you're coming down with a simple cold or something."

"What?" He gave his famous charming smile, taking another scoop of salad into his fork. "I never get sick." He said seriously.

"Really?" Peter asked, clearly not believing the young man.

Neal said with another smile, "Yes, really." and just as he was going to put the food in his mouth, his body betrayed him with a sneeze, which he covered with his other hand, but was unfortunately accompanied by a repulsive green goo that flew out of his nose and into his hand.

He closed his hand and placed his fork down, looking a bit aghast at what had happened. He looked at Elizabeth who had raised a brow at him, and then at Peter who was casually chewing his food. He swallowed and then, without looking at him, took a sip of his beer. "So, you never get sick, uh?"

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He couldn't believe he was in this position. His face was red in embarrassment more than pain. He felt all but five instead of his almost twenty years of age. He still couldn't believe he had all but four years to endure this…this…this torture!

"OW! You're hurting me!" he all but screeched, not caring who heard him anymore. "PETER!" He whined, letting out a whimper, which made him feel much, much younger than five, as he strained his neck to look back at the older man.

"For Christ's sake, Neal!" the doctor exclaimed, clearly exasperated. "It's just a shot!"

He wanted to cry, he wanted to yell, he wanted to punch the doctor right on his nose, but all he could do was breathe deeply and clench his teeth…begging his legs to stop the slight kicking.

He soon felt a cold patch of alcohol being pressed against his naked behind and then he felt his pants being righted. "There, see?" Peter asked, humor in his voice. "Was that so painful?"

"Yes!" He yelled, turning around to glare at the man, crossing his arms once more. "We could have avoided the shot all through!"

"Neal, really." Elizabeth's voice came, a tray with juice, water, and other things he couldn't see in her hands. "You refused to take the shot in your arm on the first place."

"Why did it have to be a shot, anyway?" he argued, "He could have given me something to drink!"

Peter sighed, pressing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "You have a fever of 100 degrees, your lungs are clotted, your tonsils look worse for wear, and not to mention that you've clearly haven't been taking good care of yourself." He said, finishing his speech with a glare any parent would be proud of.

"It'd be gone by the end of the day." Neal murmured, feeling like a child.

"Well, the day has clearly come to an end and I don't see you any better." Elizabeth smiled at him. "Just let Peter and me take care of you for now. I believe Peter knows well how to take care of sick people, it's his job after all!"

Again, Neal decided to stay quiet and just turned in bed to avoid looking at them…he was not sulking though. He never sulked, just as he never got sick!

"Fine, sulk all you want as long as you stay in that bed or your butt will be mine!" Again, he ignored the older man and just closed his eyes, trying to claim his sleep. Where would he go anyway when his body felt fifty times his weight?

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June 3rd

"Neal?"

He groaned, not knowing where that annoying voice that was trying to bring him from his sleep came from.

"Neal, c'mon, kid."

He turned once more. He knew that voice, that was… "'et'r…let m' sl'p…"

"Neal, I need to take your temperature and you need to take your medicine again, c'mon body."

"Nooo…" Neal turned in his stomach, begging for the annoying doctor to just let him sleep.

"Fine!" Peter snapped, and though his nose didn't allow him to breathe and his ears seemed to have something in them, and his throat was itching, he felt a slight smile cross his lips. "Have it your way!"

He heard as Peter left his room, but just a couple of minutes later he heard him return once more. "Neal, last chance, turn around." Once more, he decided to feign his sleep, though with the amount of noise Peter had made at the bathroom he had full awakened. "Fine!" To Neal's horror, two things happened before he could realize it. In a swift, Peter pulled his covers and then lowered his sweats and underwear.

"P't'r!" he was up, alright! He tried to turn on his back but Peter was holding him down with one hand while he was reaching into something with his other hand.

"Oh, no, kid! You had your chances!" with horror filled eyes, he watched as Peter brought a finger full of Vaseline close to his rear, and then, as if things couldn't get worst, he felt his bottom's cheeks being parted.

"P'ter! 'm not a chi'd!" he all but yelled, his throat killing him at the effort he made. Of course, Peter ignored him and with horror he felt as Peter placed the lubricant in a place no one should be looking at and then a thermometer being shoved inside it. "Noooo!" he cried, a few tears leaking through his eyes.

"Two minutes, kid." he said nothing, indignation seeping through his body. He was not a damn child!

"Peter…what on earth…" to make things worse, Elizabeth came through the door.

He just hoped Elizabeth would make Peter stop this treatment. He was sure she would help him out. "El, I tried to check his temperature normally, but he refused to turn around acting more like a brat than ever, so, I decided to treat him like I would a brat."

No, she wouldn't listen to this sadistic tyrant. "Really, Peter." A sigh escaped her lips, and he knew war would just start. "Just try to be more patient next time, ok?" WHAT! The traitor!

To make things worst he heard as the young woman gave Peter a peck on his lips- which meant she had just had a very nice glimpse of his embarrassment- and then, not that things could get any worst or more embarrassing, but she leaned down to place a kiss on the small portion of his brow which wasn't being engulfed totally by the pillow. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. Just be nice with each other, ok?" she asked, patting Neal's back.

"Don't worry, honey, things will be fine." Peter said, just as he took the thermometer out and thankfully pulled Neal's pants up.

"Oh, and hon?" Neal raised his head slightly, looking at Elizabeth's smiling face coming from the doorway. "Take good care of our kid, please."

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June 7th

Our kid. Since when was he 'their' kid? He had been pondering on those words for the last four days since Elizabeth had uttered those words.

"Put your butt back on that couch." Peter's voice came, just as he was about to get up. "I agreed to let you come down here if you were nice and stayed there, but the last thing we want is for you to relapse."

He sighed and sat back down, placing his feet up in the coffee table and crossing his arms. He was tired of being confined to the house, but the option of having Peter inject him once more or worst, take his temperature rectally, where enough threats to make him rather obedient. That, and also what had happened the night before when Elizabeth had whacked his behind with her wooden spoon.

He still couldn't believe what the normally cheerful and peaceful woman had done. He was feeling much better, much more when Peter had allowed him- not that he needed his permission, anyway- to go downstairs. His body was feeling very well, and he was more than happy for that.

"Neal, honey, did you take your medicine?" Elizabeth had asked as she passed through with a pile of laundry in her arms.

"In a moment." He had replied, his nose stuck in the book Peter had given him the day before.

An hour later, much to his chagrin, Elizabeth asked him once more, but this time, he was busy with Satchmo. "In a moment." He answered once more, but this time, Elizabeth gave him a stern look and ordered him to do it right away.

"Neal," an hour later Elizabeth turned the TV off as she stood, hands in her hips, glaring at him. "Have you taken your medicine?"

"Oh, c'mon, Elizabeth, I don't need it anymore." His voice came like a whine more than he had cared, but the only thing he had wanted was to continue watching his movie.

"Young man, you better take that medicine right now if you don't want to regret it!" he had huffed and stood to go to the kitchen, but once there he decided he did not need it once more, so he turned to go up the stairs.

Not even twenty minutes later he had heard the quick steps of Elizabeth coming through the stairs. He ignored it but he felt some butterflies in his stomach when he noticed Elizabeth coming through his door, his medicine in one hand and a wooden spoon- which would have been a crime at how big that thing was- in the other hand.

"Medicine. NOW!" she ordered, handing the pills to him and motioning for the bottle of water he usually kept in his night stand.

He looked down at it and then up at the woman who had quite a dangerous glint in her eyes. "El…really," he smiled charmingly, "I-"

"Now, Neal." She cut in, but Neal just looked at the pill still in her hands and sighed.

"I don't-" he didn't even get to finish his phrase. He had found himself being pulled to his feet and then, to his great surprise, he felt a sting in his behind. "OW!"

"If you don't drink this pill I'll tell Peter to get it in suppositories so I can make sure you take it!" he was mute, he had not been able to believe what was happening, and much to his horror he felt the spoon fall several times in his unprotected behind, until he placed his hand back trying to protect it.

"Ok! Ok!" he agreed, "I'll take it!" much to his relief, Elizabeth let his arm go and then handed the pill once more, which Neal hastily took and then swallowed.

"See, that wasn't that hard." Elizabeth said, placing a kiss on his forehead.

He did not know how many wallops the woman had delivered, but he was sure of one thing. He was not about to cross her again. His bottom had felt the sting for a couple of hours.

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June 27th

"Neal."

He surely had been when he had been sick, merely some weeks ago, or when Hughes had called him some days ago telling on him about the latest stunt the young man had done. Neither Peter nor Elizabeth had been very happy about it, and regretfully, Peter had deemed necessary to print the disapproval of his acts in his behind.

"C'mon, Peter…it'll only be for a few minutes." He watched as the man narrowed his eyes, a sure sign that he was thinking about it.

"Twenty minutes, and take the helmet and pads." He approved finally, to which Neal gave a bright smile. He knew sooner or later Peter would find out why he had wanted to borrow his bike at eight at night, and he knew his behind would pay, but at the moment he didn't care.

He stopped then, ready to mount his bicycle to look at the house which he now considered home. Gone were the plans of escape he had so carefully elaborated. Gone were part of the many insecurities he had had for years.

He had found his home, and as he noticed both Peter and Elizabeth watching him from the window, El leaning against Peter's chest, he could only smile.

"Take good care of our kid…" the words still went through his mind and every time he felt something warm inside him.

Every night he tried to stay awake just to feel El go inside and check on him followed a few minutes later by Peter to re-accommodate his covers and gently ruffle his hair.

He had no idea what this couple had done to him, but he had changed. Somehow, he was now their kid, and for the first time in a long time, he felt just that, a kid right at home.

Sometimes, Neal pondered, it is just incredible what we become.

THE END!