He'd never been a Christmas kind of guy.

He liked the holiday, like what it stood for, but her didn't like it as a whole. He loved Halloween, that's when all his best memories were. Valentine's Day was okay, if not a bit depressing. But Christmas? Christmas was when he went into the foster care system for the first time. The next year, his family disappeared, and he became Nick Halden. The only good part of that Christmas had been meeting Mozzie. Even that had been botched up, because not even a week after arrival Mozzie (age fifteen at the time) had been shipped somewhere else.

Now, standing in the Burke's home, helping decorate their Christmas tree, he couldn't help but think back. He's met Mozzie on Christmas day, now that he thought about it. Directly on the day. When he woke up in the middle of the night, sneaking downstairs to catch a view of what was under the tree. Mozzie had been down there, glasses falling down his face with an old book

Of course, Neal had woken up the older boy, curious about who he was. He had gotten an impromptu "I please the fifth!" and the sound of cracking glass as the glasses slipped off, falling to the floor. They'd hit it off, even though Mozzie was over ten years older. And then he'd had to leave. Neal was only four at the time. He didn't get the high risk factor or that Moz teaching him how to pick a lock and hotwire a car weren't good. But he'd been curious, and Moz had been more than willing to pass on his knowledge.

Then there was the Christmas when he was five, near six. His mom and dad were fighting, saying something about a stupid mistake on a con. Later that day, his mother had come in. She was smiling, but she had a suitcase in her hand. "We need to get away for a while, honey." She said. "Think of it like a game."

When they'd left, his father had been driving. He explained to Neal that he wasn't Neal anymore, at least for a while. Now his name was Nick Halden. It was like a big game. At the time.

When he turned nine, Christmas was never the same. He didn't think about that though.

"Neal?"

And then there was that whole mess when he was fourteen. Thankfully Moz had been nearby -and who knew why he was in that part of New York. If he hadn't been…

"Neal!"

The consultant blinked, coming out of his revere. "Yeah?"

"You gonna help?" Peter asked, motioning to the half-decorated tree.

Neal blinked. "Yeah, yeah."

"You okay?"

After a second, the younger man nodded, smiling.

"Just thinking about how great Christmas is."