He stopped at the top step and sighed; a place he once considered a second home was now unfamiliar...how long had it been?

Before Peter went to jail; the trial and finally an acquittal. Neal couldn't remember the last time he had been at the Burke's home; or maybe he could and just didn't want to remember how long ago it was; another lifetime when he almost felt like family.

Everything changed when his father framed Peter and ran; leaving Neal behind to deal with the aftermaths...and deal he did. He was a con man after all; so he moved on and did what he could to help Peter. They all did; all one team that was completely shattered, though no one was willing to admit it.

And now Neal needed Peter's help; help he didn't deserve and wasn't sure the agent would be willing to give. But it was something he had to do...something he owed.

"Neal, are you going to stand there all night?"

Neal startled; he glanced up at Peter with a weary sigh.

"Neal is something wrong? Do you want to come in?"

He nodded and then hesitated before following Peter inside.

Neal immediately noticed the changes to the Burke's living room; a new sofa and recliner and the walls had recently been painted. He glanced at Peter, who simply shrugged.

"I had a lot of free time" the agent admitted and there was no need to elaborate.

"Neal, why are you here?"

Simple question; with a simple answer.

"I need your help" Neal answered with his eyes never leaving Peter's face. The agent showed a brief moment of surprise but that quickly left, covered up by a concerned mask that Neal wasn't sure was genuine.

"With what?" Peter asked as he placed his hands on his hips; such a familiar stance that Neal wanted to laugh or cry in relief.

"I need to go to St Louis for a few days and I'd rather not sneak around your back."

Neal turned, unarmed by Peter's scrutiny.

"Neal, what's in St Louis?" Peter neared the ex-con. "As far as I know you haven't been back since you were seventeen."

"My mother is...was" Neal quickly said with a lowered head.

"Neal..."

"She's dead Peter. She died a few days ago and I need...I want to claim the body."

"Neal...I'm sorry..."

"Don't." Neal backed away. "I haven't seen her in years...I don't want your sympathy..." He shied away from Peter's outstretched arm.

"Neal, what do you want?"

"An escort to St Louis...a couple of days..." Neal shrugged. "I'm going either way but I'd like to do it the right way..."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "An escort?" He chuckled. "Are things so bad between us that you can't ask me to go with you?"

"You tell me" Neal quietly countered with as much defiance as he could muster.

"Neal, I never blamed you for any of this."

"But it was my father who walked away..."

"Yes, it was" Peter quickly put forth. "Not you."

"Doesn't matter" Neal mumbled, clearly defeated. "I shouldn't have come here."

He took one step before Peter stopped him with a firm grip on his arm.

"It will take a day or two to get the paperwork processed. You decide by then if you want me to go with you."

Peter held on for a few more minutes before releasing Neal's arm. Without looking back Neal quickly opened the door and walked out.

"Peter, please come to bed."

Peter ignored her as he continued to nurse the beer in his hand. Elizabeth pulled a chair closer and sat down. "Maybe its best if someone else goes with Neal."

"No." He took a sip. "Elizabeth, like it or not Neal and I will be partners again. We have to get back to where we were."

"And if you can't?"

"Not an option." Peter stood up.

"Peter, a lot has happened in the past six months."

"El, I know." The agent walked into the kitchen and tossed the empty can in the garbage.

"Peter I don't want to see you hurt again."

"Neal isn't going to hurt me..."

"Not physically" Elizabeth countered. "Peter you care...maybe too much."

He opened the fridge and pulled out another beer.

"Peter, enough." She grabbed the can and put it back. "It's late and you don't need another one."

He briefly glared at her before conceding to her wishes.

"Elizabeth, you might not understand but I need to go with him."

"You're right I don't." She crossed her arms defiantly. "So go..." She paused. "Why make him ask you?"

"I don't know" Peter admitted with a shrug. "It shouldn't be that hard. After everything we've been through it shouldn't be that hard." He walked out leaving a befuddled Elizabeth behind.

In the end it was Peter who gave in, though he didn't think of it in that way. For so long he was in survival mode, going through the motions as his freedom remained in peril.

But now that was over and his life was nearly back to normal...finally he had time to think about Neal and what he went through, how devastated he must have been when his father walked away.

Of course he said he was fine and outwardly he appeared to be but Peter knew otherwise. His eyes spoke volumes and it was obvious he wasn't fine and Peter worried that his mother's death was going to push him over the edge.

"Peter. It's so good to see you." June greeted him with a warm hug. "Neal said all the charges were dropped."

He nodded. "Still trying to get my life in order" Peter said as he eyed the staircase. "How has Neal seemed to you?"

She smiled. "He's Neal. Ever the con man..."

"That's what I'm afraid of" Peter remarked as he walked by June and headed upstairs.

Neal answered after two knocks.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" He stepped aside to allow Peter to enter. "It's been a while" the agent noted as he eyed the loft.

"I got the paperwork approved" Peter said as he pulled out a small envelope. "You get a week..."

"A whole week." Neal said, somewhat surprised. "How'd you managed that?"

Peter shrugged. "We leave tomorrow."

"We?" Neal glanced over. "You're going with me?"

Peter nodded. "Assuming you're ok with that."

"Is Elizabeth ok with it?"

Peter didn't answer.

"I don't want to cause any more problems..."

"Neal, you didn't cause any of this." Peter threw his hands up. "El's not happy but she understands why I want to go..."

"Why?" Neal asked. "Peter, you could send anyone with me."

"Neal, tell me you don't want me to go."

Neither man spoke for several minutes.

"It's settled" Peter said to break the silence. "I'll pick you up in the morning." He turned to leave.

"Peter...wait."

Neal neared him. "You're going to learn a few things I don't want others to know."

"OK" Peter remarked evenly, trying to reassure Neal with an uneasy smile. "Neal, whatever I find out stays with me."

Neal nodded. "I'm not sure how I'm going to react. Peter I haven't talked to my mom in years."

The agent wasn't sure how to respond to that; Neal was watching him and waiting for his reaction.

"Neal, can I ask why?" Peter eyed him. "Not even a phone call?"

Neal shook his head. "She would not have known my voice...and I doubt she would have recognized me."

Peter's brows rose in unison. "What was wrong with her?" he quietly asked, watching as Neal turned with a quiet sigh.

"Neal?" Peter walked into the ex-con's vision. "Talk to me."

Peter knew Neal wanted to tell him; otherwise he would not have started this conversation.

"They didn't know." Neal managed a small chuckle. "Early dementia...maybe psychosis...they weren't sure." Neal shrugged. "For as long as I can remember she wasn't right and finally we had to commit her."

"We?" Peter asked.

"Ellen and I" Neal answered with a deep sigh. He turned his head and took a couple of deep breaths.

"Neal, I'm sorry." Peter planted a hand on Neal's shoulder and gently squeezed. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been." Peter let his hand linger for a few minutes until Neal's breathing evened out.

"Neal, how old were you?" he finally asked

"Fifteen" Neal answered in a quiet voice.

"Wow." Peter whistled softly. "Did you move in with Ellen?"

"No." Neal shrugged and almost laughed at the look Peter gave him. "I was used to taking care of myself and Ellen was nearby..."

"Neal, that's illegal. Didn't your neighbors notice?"

Neal shrugged again. "Peter, it seems like a lifetime ago. Maybe it was" he added wistfully, seemingly ending the conversation.

Peter decided to let it go. "Did you buy a plot?" he asked.

"Yes" Neal answered as he walked to the fridge and fished out a bottle of water. "Since I don't know where my mom grew up I bought a small plot near Ellen's grave." He eyed Peter. "Not exactly family but at least she won't be alone."

"She'll be fine" Peter remarked soothingly. "Neal, did you ever try to find her family?"

Neal laughed. "What do you think?" He shook his head. "Caffrey isn't that uncommon and I have nothing to go on..."

"We can try" Peter put forth, stopping Neal in mid-sentence. "Neal, say the word and we can work on it."

"I'd like that" Neal said with a genuine smile. "It's hard having no family..."

"You make your own" Peter interrupted. "And you have family...so don't forget that."

Neal looked away, clearly embarrassed by Peter's statement. "I know" he finally admitted.

"OK" Peter said, glancing at his watch. "I'll pick you up at 8am."

Neal refused to look his way so Peter walked out.

Peter was elated when they finally touched down in St Louis and he could get off the plane. It wasn't a long flight but Neal never stopped moving...his legs, his arms and his feet were constantly fluttering in a perpetual state of motion.

He wouldn't talk and every time Peter tried to engage him in a conversation, Neal would turn his head towards the window and ignore him.

Finally Peter gave up; he knew Neal was nervous and in the end just being there was the only thing he could do to help his friend.

They had picked up a rental car near the airport and the drive to the funeral home took nearly an hour. Neal played with the radio and Peter let him be and concentrated on driving the unfamiliar roads.

Neal had made all the arrangements but told Peter very little; there would be a small service at the funeral home and then the body would be cremated. Back in New York, Peter wasn't sure what Neal had planned but he assumed a small gravesite service would be appropriate.

"Neal, that's the street." Peter turned right and drove another block until he saw the funeral home.

"Are you ready?" Peter asked as he pulled in the lot.

Neal didn't move.

"Neal, let's go." Peter exited, walked around and opened the passenger door. Slowly Neal got out and silently marched inside.

"Can I help you?" A short woman with grayish, curly hair greeted them at the door.

"I'm Neal Caffrey. My mother died at the Greyside nursing home and her body was brought here." Neal dropped the necessary paperwork on the counter.

The lady stared at them and then walked over to the desk and stared at the computer. She started typing and then muttered something under her breath.

"Is anything wrong?" Peter asked, as she continued to bang on the keyboard.

"Excuse me." Peter loudly cleared this throat.

The lady looked up with a panic expression. "I'm afraid someone has already claimed the body."

"No." Neal shook his head. "That's not possible. You called me. Why would you give it to someone else?" He glanced at Peter.

"Can we see the paperwork?" Peter asked bluntly as he neared the desk.

"I'm afraid I can't..."

"Yes, you can." Peter pulled out his badge. "We need to know and you will tell us."

She hesitated; debated and slowly stood.

"This can't be happening" Neal muttered when she walked away. "Peter, who else...? It can't be" Neal suddenly said.

"Peter, you don't think my father..." Neal paused when he saw the woman approaching.

"A James Bennett..."

"Damn it." Neal swore and then slammed his hand on the counter.

"Neal, calm down."

"He can't do that. Peter he can't do this to me." Neal's voice cracked as Peter took a step closer.

"No" Neal whispered as he eyed the exit. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to find him and I'm going to kill him."

"Neal..."

The ex-con turned and ran out the door.

"Neal!" Peter followed but Neal was out of sight in a matter of seconds. Peter re-entered the funeral home.

"Oh dear, did we make a mistake?"

Peter stared at her in disbelief. He picked up the papers that Neal had left and walked out.