Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS for 4x16 Also, my brain thinks Neal has daddy issues, clearly.

Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly.


Four quick steps led Neal to the door that his father had just exited. He punched out at the frame, and a strangled sob escaped as his chest heaved with the effort to contain the bile that was rising from his stomach. He brought both hands up and ran them over his face and through his hair. With a glint of panic in his eyes he looked anxiously around his small apartment, looking for something, anything, to keep his hands and mind busy long enough for this initial surge of adrenaline to pass. If Sara was still here, or Peter, or... hell, even Mozzie would do. Dammit. He just needed... someone. Or something.

"Wine..." He muttered softly to himself and headed over towards the bottles sitting on the countertop.

He was reaching for the corkscrew when something better caught his eye. A small bronze statue, a gift that had been given to him with the sentiments to "Never grow up."

He laughed to himself as he picked up the idol remembering how, ten years ago as he was busy pursuing treasure through Mexico; a beautiful girl with shockingly light eyes had called him a "Little boy heart with a grown up brain." as she pressed the small icon into his hands when she caught him attempting a quiet easy escape from her bedroom. She hadn't explained to him what the idol was or the magic it possessed, but it hadn't taken him long to track down a fence with the information he wanted.

Apparently the holder of this statue was granted an exclusive all-access pass into their childhood. Whatever that meant. He'd heard rumors of flashbacks and time travel, but it was currently unclear what the small inscription on the bottom of the statue actually did. All Neal knew was that if it worked he'd have found an escape. At least temporarily.

Holding the figure in one hand he dug his phone from his pocket and thumbed through his contacts before hitting the number he was searching for. When he reached voicemail without it even ringing. he left a message that he hoped was as cryptic as the little guy liked. "I'm about to do something incredibly stupid and if it works like it should, I might need a babysitter."

He was thinking back to that time in Peru with the last odd inscription that had rendered him helpless and vomiting in a two room shack with an 18th century painting lying in the dirt beside him. Yeah, it was a good idea to call for backup.

If only he knew how accurate his words actually were.

Mozzie stood outside the Empire State Building just long enough to catch a glimpse of Peter being led out in handcuffs before he slipped away, shedding the Green Peeps uniform and stuffing it into a trash can as he hurried towards home. When he finally had his door shut behind him he remembered his phone, shut off in his pocket, and turned it on with the intention of making sure that Neal had escaped. After all, it couldn't have been easy to get past all the agents and extra security in the building. But he was Neal... It was probably so easy it wasn't worth mentioning. Kind of like his own exit from the building, he thought proudly. No need to ever speak of how he got out either.

Within seconds of his phone powering up, his voicemail icon was blinking and he grimaced as Neal's message started with a sigh. "... might need a babysitter." He was back out the door before the message clicked off, moving his little legs as fast as he could in the direction of June's mansion.

When he arrived he was immediately waved in by a member of June's staff, Maggie or Margie, or some M name that didn't really matter at the moment, and headed directly up the stairs. The girl at the door stopped him with words as he all but ran up to Neal's room. "Mister? There's been some weird noises like... someone's been jumping on the bed. But he hasn't answered the door since he arrived home."

Mozzie raised his eyebrows at the young girl. "That's okay. I don't need an invitation. I think he's expecting me." He started up the stairs again only to stop in front of the door as a child's giggle reached his ears. "What the hell?"

He found no resistance when he tried the knob and slowly pushed open the door as he took in the scene in front of him. "Oh, fuck. Neal? What. Have. You. Done?"

The apartment was a mess. Books lying open strewn across the room, cushions from the couch dropped haphazardly across the floor, small valuable figures arranged like figures marching to war. The refrigerator was standing open two inches and there was a puddle of juice on the floor. Standing in the middle with all too familiar features was a boy no older than five. Startling blue eyes met Mozzie's as he fumbled for the only thing he could find to say. "Neal... why are you naked and covered in paint?"

The boy broke out a smaller version of his biggest smile. "Mossie! I'm makin' a pit'ure!" He pointed happily towards the easel where he had, indeed, been painting a rather stunning portrait of, who Mozzie could only assume, the Suit's dog, Satchmo. "I'm makin' it for Liz'beth." His tiny tongue poked out from between his lips as he studied his masterpiece.

Mozzie walked over and plopped himself heavily into a chair at the table and rested his head in his hands. It was going to be a long day.


Author's Note: This started as a crack!fic. I lost control of it, it grew a plot. I apologize in advance. Also, I don't know why I can't decide if these two should be making out, have an epic bromance, or if Peter should be the father figure Neal obviously needs. I am so confused. Not in this story, obviously. Daddy issues, here we come! Whee! Also, Thank you so much for reviews and alerts! They mean the world. Seriously.