"Home."


Neal sat silently in the car, his mind reeling. The FBI agent had put the tracking anklet on his ankle and already Neal's fingers were itching to take it off. He had also said something, something about home. Neal leaned his head against the window, staring out as the city flashed by. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

Peter glanced over at the young teen. He watched Neal's lashes flutter farther and farther down until Neal was fast asleep. The agent leaned over and quietly switched off the radio, lest it wake Neal.

They were less than twenty minutes away from the Burkes' house and Peter glanced over worriedly at Neal. The teenager had been making quiet noises and shifting restlessly every so often. Peter suspected it was from nightmares, but he wasn't exactly sure he could deal with it. He drove in silence until Neal finally jerked against the seatbelt with a desperate gasp.

"Neal!" Peter slammed on the brakes. Neal fumbled with the door and stumbled out of the car, Peter quickly following.

He stopped to see Neal doubled over, retching, one hand wrapped around his stomach.

Peter bent over, awkwardly placing his hand on Neal's back, feeling for the first time, the skinniness of the teen's frame.

"Hey-uh, it's gonna be okay." Peter said in what he hoped was a comforting tone.

Nothing was left for Neal to vomit and he continued to dry heave, Peter's hand remaining on his back. Peter tried not to wince every time Neal's body shook with a heave and he wondered when the last time Neal had eaten.

"Th…th…thanks" Neal stuttered, wiping a hand across his mouth.

"Have you…uh had anything to eat?" Peter asked.

Neal shook his head and climbed back into the car.

"I've got a devilled ham sandwich," Peter offered, passing Neal a slightly squished, sat-on sandwich. Neal took it between the tips of his fingers, letting his nose wrinkle in disgust as it dangled in his grasp.

"That's gross" Neal spoke flatly.

"One bite. My wife'll probably give you something to eat when we get home."

Neal placed the offending sandwich as far away from him as possible.

"One bite" Peter said, keeping one hand on the wheel and using the other to push the sandwich back in the conman's lap.

Neal took a deep breath and took a tentative bite.

"That does not count as a bite. You haven't had anything to eat in at least twenty-four hours and I'm not having you pass out. Eat!" Peter snapped.

"Fine." Neal's tone was equally as biting. He picked up the sandwich and took an exaggeratedly oversized bite. Peter chuckled at the expression on the teen's face as he struggled to swallow.

"How do you eat this?" Neal asked.

"I like it" Peter said defensively. Neal simply raised his eyebrows and settled back in the seat, doing his best to keep the sandwich down.

"Here we are" Peter announced as he pulled up in front of the house. Neal resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Peter's obviousness.

"Hi hon, where were you, I've-" a smiling, brown-haired woman opened the door and hugged Peter tightly.

"Hey El, this is Neal" Peter stepped back to introduce the teen who looked more like he'd rather run away than meet El.

"Neal, this is El."

"Hi Neal, nice to-" El's greeting was cut off as Neal abruptly vomited into the bushes.

"Peter, what did you do to him?!" El asked as she gently rubbed Neal's back.

"I gave him a sandwich."

El ushered Neal into the house, leaving Peter to close the door. She walked Neal over to the couch, where the teenager sat down, moaning a little.

"Make him comfortable" El whispered at Peter as she ran upstairs to find medicine.

Peter sat on the couch next to Neal who had curled up into a little ball, burying himself into the couch cushions. Peter started to rub gentle circles on Neal's back, feeling the conman relax. El came back down, a small bottle of medicine in her hand and a spoon in the other.

"Neal, sweetie, I need you to sit up" El coaxed as she spooned a dose of medicine into Neal's mouth.

"Tastes better than devilled ham" Neal murmured as he lay back down. Peter took the blanket El handed him and draped it carefully over the conman's form. He waited until Neal had fallen fully asleep and then followed El to the kitchen.

"What is he doing here?" El demanded in a loud whisper.

"Hughes had nowhere to put him and I drew the short straw, so Neal's staying with us until tomorrow morning. He'll get processed tomorrow." Peter was surprised to see El's eyes well with tears.

"What's wrong, hon?" he murmured.

"Peter…he's so young. He shouldn't…" Peter quickly hugged El tightly to him. He didn't know anyone else with as big a heart as his wife, but he knew she was wrong about Neal Caffrey.

"I know El, but there's nothing I can do" Peter lied. There were strings he could pull, things he could say, and deals he could make to keep the talented teenager out of prison. He just didn't exactly believe Neal deserved a second chance.

~TBC


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