The Lesser of Two Evils

by Ursula4x

Neal was stalked in prison by a contract killer who coerced him into being his toy. Non con, dub con, leading to threesome with the Burkes which will not be shown at this source.

2. Chapter 2

Title: Lesser of Two Evils 2

Author: Ursula

Rating: rating: NC-17

Genre and/or Pairing: Peter/Elizabeth/Neal

Spoilers: None

Notes: Written for a request on Collar Kink "Neal had a protector in prison (it was either that or be passed around like a sex toy, lesser of two evils). The guy either escapes or does his time. He comes after Neal, only it's 'romantic', or as far as Peter and the team can tell, stalking. Something happens (author's choice) and Peter and Elizabeth end up with a traumatized Neal to take care of. Gentle threesome sex ensues with Elizabeth initiating. "

Warnings: Reference to non con and dub con. There will be one chapter of this story on the Caffrey/Burke LJ, on my dream width account, and on my Archive of Our Own account. This chapter will involve a sexual threesome and will be for mature audiences only.

Word Count:

Summary: Peter tried to make sure that Neal was safe in prison, but he had work to do and things didn't go as Peter planned. Neal had few choices and took what he thought was the lesser of two evils.

1. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

OooOooO

Kate gave careful instructions and Neal followed. His tracker had been reset to a mile around Jones' apartment, but the meeting place was nearby. Neal arrived at the alley and took a deep breath. Common sense, a seldom heard voice in his head, said he should call Peter. He should not go into that alley.

Terror was an even less welcome voice. He was already shivering. He was keyed up, worried about Kate and afraid for himself. Neal had run out that door deluding himself that Kate was in over her head again.

The memory of what had happened a few months ago still stung. He had found out that Peter was communicating with Kate and she was perfectly safe. She was also not interested in resuming a relationship with Neal. It had pissed him off at both Kate and Peter that they had played him, but he had forgiven both of them and tried to understand Peter had acted to protect him. It had been a relief to find out that Kate had never been in any danger.

Marley however...if Marley had Kate, she was in danger.

Neal felt for the sap in his pocket. He had removed from the FBI stores two days ago, feeling he needed some kind of protection, but not wanting to be tempted by having a gun. It was the least lethal type with lead shot and no spring in the shank, but it was still capable of a knock out blow.

Sidling into the alley, wary, Neal saw Kate who stood alone. She was expressionless. Neal tried for a read, but Kate was the mistress of deception when she chose to be. He finally said, "Kate, are you okay?"

"She is fine, a piece of work," Marley said from behind Neal. One strong arm went around his neck and the other removed the sap from Neal's pocket. Neal twisted and struggled in Marley's grip but it was hopeless. Neal had the tensile strength, but not the solid bone and muscle like Marley's to break free.

"Come here, pretty little Kate," Marley said.

Neal wanted to believe there was more than fear dominating Kate, but Marley worked alone by preference. He could see no henchmen in the alley to enforce Marley's rule.

"Give him the shot, go on," Marley said. He tightened his hold on Neal.

"Kate, don't," Neal said, his voice half strangled from the choke hold.

"You know I almost think that you two would be such a pretty pair," Marley said. "Would you love it, my darling boy, if I took her too? You could fawn over me and I would let you have each other, but only for my pleasure."

Kate stopped in mid track. She shook her head and said, "That was not the bargain."

"True and I am a man of my word," Marley said. "I don't think I would like to share Neal anyway. He will spend his days in my embrace or waiting for me to call him to my whim. Cut the tracker and give him the shot."

Kate sobbed when she knelt to cut Neal's anklet and then she jabbed him deep with the needle. Neal didn't go right out, but soon, moments later, he had no will to struggle. Neal barely felt it as Marley lifted him bodily and carried him as if he was a valiant knight with his lady to his car. From his draped position over Marley's shoulder, Neal saw Kate running away, running from the alley as fast as she could. Her dark hair was the color of betrayal. Her fleeting form was the death of all hope.

Woman of no faith. Woman of no valor. Neal felt Kate leaving his heart as she left that alley.

OooOooO

Two calls came at once. The first from Jones consisted of "Hey, Neal slipped out the door when I was making dinner. I don't think he just went to..."

"Hold on," Peter said. "US Marshals are calling."

"Burke," said a stern voice, "Caffrey just cut his anklet."

"Whoever the hell you are, read your dispatches. We have a reputed contract killer stalking my parolee. Said killer no doubt cut the anklet. Where's the location?" Peter said, voice crackling.

It was three blocks from Jones' apartment in Harlem. Peter switched back to Jones, told him to meet him there, and warned him to be careful. Marley was a killer.

"Neal?" El asked. At Peter's nod, she said, "I knew he should have come here. You could have protected him and I could have kept him from taking risks."

Peter lifted a brow and El insisted, "He listens to me. He responds to me very well."

"He also wanted to keep you safe, El," Peter said. "I'll find him."

Peter did not say that he meant to find Neal and make sure Marley never had any more chances at hurting him. El didn't need to know that.

OooOooO

Peter collected the tracker, but did not expect there would be fingerprints on it. He collected a hypodermic needle from nearby the anklet. There were no other signs of a struggle, but that was to be expected. There were no traces of blood which was good.

"Found this," Jones said, holding up a chap stick. "Looks like it may have fallen out of a pocket or purse."

"Okay," Peter said. The forensic investigators would take over now, scouring every inch of the alley for a single hair, anything that might provide evidence or a clue.

When Peter searched, he found no tire tracks due to the slick rain. Witnesses there were none and the location had a singular dearth of convenient security cameras. Marley was intelligent, Peter knew that. Marley wasn't going to make this easy.

OooOooO

The one thing that was evident was that Kate had cut the tracker, leading Hughes to be reasonably sure that Neal had simply run with Kate. Her fingerprints were also on the hypodermic needle which had traces of choral hydrate and which had been used on Neal. Peter had pointed that out to Hughes who shrugged and said, "Caffrey might be trying to pull the wool over your eyes. Put out a bulletin on him."

Peter was perfectly willing to reissue all the wanted posters and set up roadblocks, but Neal had vanished without a trace.

Two days after Neal disappeared; Moz was on Peter's door step, twisting one of Neal's hats in his hand.

Peter dragged the man inside to El's surprise. Peter said, "El, this is Mr. Haversham, a friend of Neal's."

"Has he heard from Neal?" El said.

"He has not heard from Neal," Moz replied. "He has heard from Kate and he wants to do something evil to Kate."

"Did you see Kate?" Peter asked.

"No, she called me to announce that Marley has Neal. That she couldn't help betraying Neal. Boo hoo hoo," Moz said.

"That was what I thought," Peter said.

"So Kate said that Marley tracked her down," Moz said. "He threatened her so she turned on Neal because, of course, her lily white flesh is so much important than the guy who has always made her the center of his life."

"She has no idea where Marley took him?" Peter said.

"No, but I found out from a friend of a friend that he has a place in upstate New York. Exactly where, good luck," Moz said. "I was thinking that possibly we could hire Marley to make a hit," Moz suggested. "Get him to come out of cover."

"It's an idea," Peter said, "but we would need someone believable to hire him. Nicholas Haldane?"

"No," Moz said.

El looked bewildered. Peter said, "One of Neal's alter egos."

Moz took a deep breath and said, "Haldane is trashed since you used him in that Interpol situation. No, Steve Tabernacle is your guy. He's rich and no one knows who he is."

"Okay, I can..." Peter started to say.

"You can't, I can't," Moz said. "I have someone who can play the role. You want to meet him?"

"Yes," Peter said.

OooOooO

Waking with an upset stomach and a dry mouth, Neal groaned softly. He kept his eyes closed except for a slit, but his slight motion was noted.

Marley sat on the bed where Neal lay and offered him a sip of water. He was thirsty and there was no point in hurting himself to make a point. Neal sucked on the straw, wetting his mouth. Even the small mouthful made his stomach turn.

"There, my darling," Marley said. "You will feel better soon."

"I'm not going to let you have me," Neal said. "I'm done with that. You can tie me up, you can force me, but I'll keep fighting you until you kill me or let me go."

"Tchh tchh," Marley said. "Your FBI agent has been a poor influence on you. You have lost your charming manners. We will have to civilize you again."

Neal could feel he was naked beneath the silky sheets and the velvety blanket. There was something around his neck. He felt it. It was a leather collar. He traced the chain coming from it. He was tethered like a dog.

Marley said, "It's just for now, Neal. Soon you will accept my love. You need to be taken care of, romanced, pampered. You will have all of that. Anything you want. The finest wines, food from any chef or restaurant you can imagine."

"When all I want is to be free," Neal said. He reached for the water glass, but Marley didn't hand it to him. He made Neal sip from the straw as he held it.

When Marley reached for him, Neal flinched. He couldn't help it. He steeled himself to fight, knowing he would lose, but he wasn't the same person as he was when he last saw Marley. Now, he felt as if Peter and Elizabeth had crept into his heart, making it stronger. He saw himself more as El saw him. She had that way about her, believing people were better than they were and making them believe it too.

Nodding, Marley said, "You just need time to adjust, Neal. It won't be like prison. It will be so much better than that. Just accept that you are loved. That I find you precious. "

Shaking his head, Neal shut his eyes, shut Marley out. He drew up his knees and wrapped his arms around them. Neal believed in God, but not in answered prayers. At least, his had never been answered except when Peter came back to prison and said that he was taking Neal up on his deal. He gave in to his frightened heart and asked that Peter find him soon. That Marley would refrain from taking what Neal could no longer let him have.

OooOooO

The friend was Ms. Durkins' nephew, Alan Heath, who was a young police officer who worked in Tacoma, Washington. He was visiting his aunt and had volunteered for the role when his aunt confided in him.

The young officer was handsome, dark haired, possessing blue eyes if not the hypnotic ones that Neal sported. Since descriptions of Steve Tabernacle were vague, he could pass for the millionaire. He was eager for the role, obviously chaffing under a rookie's daily diet of routine traffic stops with the occasional domestic violence investigation to add stress.

"We are going to keep you wired," Peter said. "If there is any hint of danger, we pull the operation. I don't need another man in danger."

"I'll keep my cool," Heath said.

Hughes grumbled from the corner. They were meeting at Heath's hotel room, away from any place that Marley had reason to watch. "It's a hell of a risk to take for a criminal."

"A criminal you have sent into danger on several occasions," Peter said.

"This wasn't one of my operations," Hughes pointed out. "It's Caffrey's problem."

"He's my partner so it's my problem," Peter said.

Hughes shook his head and said, "I worried you were getting too deep. It's because Caffrey was shot saving you, isn't it?"

"Not just that, Sir," Peter said. "That incident just illustrated something about Neal. He couldn't stand by and let me get shot, most likely killed, despite the fact that I was holding a gun on him at the time."

Hughes sighed and shook his head. "I knew this was a mistake. You're all heart, Peter. I like you and I think you're the best agent I have ever supervised, but you and Caffrey, there's something dangerous about the two of you."

"There's precedent," Peter reminded his supervisor.

"I know that," Hughes said. "I was around in Houston when Abagnale was kicking ass there with Joe Shaye. I know it worked out well once, but..."

"Abagnale turned out to be one of the best assets the FBI white collar division ever had," Peter pointed out. "And Joe Shaye's idea ended up turning the kid's life around. Abagnale has never committed a crime since he was released."

"Except having that book written, which exaggerated everything he did," Hughes said.

"If we get Neal back, I can make his name as famous as Abagnale's for the same reason. Abagnale made everyone look good around him. Neal is even smarter and can be even more useful," Peter said.

"All right," Hughes said, "I'll authorize the funds and the operation. I must be getting soft in my old age."

OooOooO

Neal paced. His chain allowed him the reach of the room. He could use the toilet or wash his hands. Marley had to release him to shower. He had tried to make himself repulsive by refusing to shave or shower, but that resulted in Marley wrestling him into submission and doing it for him.

To date, Marley had shown restraint. He had not raped Neal. He was gentle and courteous. Neal thought the man was so far around the bend that he probably could meet himself coming.

"What can I do to make it better, my love?" Marley asked.

There was something Neal had been considering. Neal has no access to a phone or the internet. Marley allowed the cleaning woman inside the room only when he was there. She did not speak English. She was a tiny Asian woman who crept about and would not make eye contact with Neal. Who knew? She might think it was perfectly normal for Americans to keep pretty young men chained up in rooms.

This depended on Peter and Moz working together, but Neal thought they would. He hoped they would.

"I'd like to paint," Neal said. "Would you buy me some equipment?"

Proudly, Marley held out a robe. It was the first time that he allowed Neal to wear something. Neal fought the impulse to thank him for giving him back some of his dignity. He understood that it was a down hill ride from here. Isolated, no allies, Neal knew he was risking becoming dependent on his captor.

Marley had a room set up as a studio. He waved his hand at the window and said, "It's bullet proof, unbreakable, one way mirror, but you can look out. Nice?"

Neal moved around. Cheap canvas. An amateur oil paint set. Synthetic brushes he would not used to daub a back coat on a painting. He shook his head and said, "Thank you, but I can't use these. They're just wrong."

It was the first time that Marley had struck him. Neal was surprised by it and it hurt.

A moment later, Marley was apologizing, holding an ice bag to Neal's cheek. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. Come on, smile and forgive me."

Neal could only answer with silence. He was so afraid. He was so alone.

OooOooO

Marley did not respond to the sting. Oh, they got bites, lots of them. The collar got five responses and, after they kept the killers on the line until they were sure Marley didn't want the job, Heath and the FBI agents managed to arrest all five of the contract killers. One was an idiot of an amateur, but the other four were serious threats.

It was a bust, but one that had benefits to the FBI and to the population at large.

And Neal was still out there.

OooOooO

"Give me one kiss, a good kiss, and I'll buy you any kind of paint and paint brushes you want," Marley offered.

Neal wanted to say 'no', but he wanted to go home more. He wanted his bed, with Moz snoring on the couch. He wanted to eat dinner at Peter and El's house. He wanted to sit on the floor with Satchmo and play wrestle until Peter scolded them both. He wanted to have those private talks with El, his face close, her scent in his nose, his body responded to her even though he wanted Peter just as much.

Neal wanted to take that bottle and toss it out the window, watch it shatter, and he never wanted to see, hear, or have anything to do with Kate again.

Yes, Neal understood Kate had been afraid, but if it had been Neal, he would have found some way to warn her. He would never have led her into that trap.

Nodding, Neal said, "Okay, just a kiss?"

"A real kiss," Marley said. "I don't know what's wrong with you. It's not that I'm a bad looking guy and I have lots of new moves. Maybe I'm making a mistake, letting you go all shy virgin on me. You have to get your feet wet again, Neal. You already know that your bitch is no good. What do I have to do? Off that cop to make you know who really loves you?"

"No," Neal said. "What is it with you and Peter Burke? I hate Peter Burke. He's the one who fucked up my life."

"Right," Marley said. "Don't try to con me. Come here, beautiful."

To say that Neal loathed the kiss was to understate. It was as if you compared a day in hell to a hot summer day.

Marley was poisonous. Oh, he brushed his teeth and used mouthwash. He did not wear his twisted serpentine in his outer form. He was demonic and demanding. Neal felt his balls try to creep back into his body he feared Marley that much. He loathed him with such an entirety of his being that he could imagine killing Marley. He could, if he had a knife, stab Marley as many time as Caesar was pierced. He could kill and Neal hated that Marley had done that to him, made him lower himself to such hatred.

Marley said, "You will love me and you will take me into your body. You will want me."

Neal knew what he wanted. He wanted to grab the nearest object and beat Marley's head until it exploded into fragments of blood and bone.

Cautioning himself, Neal said, "You promised me my paints, my canvas, my brushes."

"You'll have them."

OooOooO

"Write 'em down," Marley said. "I'll get them for you. I love to see you paint."

"I need Schmincke Mussini oil paints, a full set and a double on Naples Yellow light," Neal said. "I need deep edge canvas, a variety of sizes, and Kolinsky Sable brushes. Some Siberian squirrel hair as well. I prefer Isabey as a source for those."

"Now you are just screwing with me. Squirrel hair?" Marley said. His face was getting that ugly expression again.

"No, it's really a type of brush," Neal said.

"Okay," Marley said. "I'll order this all. You know I'm not taking any work right now. I'm devoting all my time to you. Now that's romantic."

"Yes, it is, Serge," Neal said. He had refused to use Serge's name until now.

Marley smiled at him and said, "You are starting to warm to me."

"I just want to paint," Neal said. "Painting helps me think, Serge."

Marley kissed Neal's forehead and said, "I will win your heart, my darling. One day we will travel the world side by side. You will wear the most beautiful clothing. We will dance in tuxedos and eat the finest cuisine. You will have the life you deserve."

What was there to say? Nothing that Marley wanted to hear. Neal said, "I will paint you as a Borgia prince."

"I like it," Marley said. "I like it a lot."

OooOooO

Moz was asleep on the Burke's couch. El had tucked a blanket over the strange little man. They had offered him the guest room, but Mozz had refused, saying he was just going to rest his eyes between taking his turn on the inventory watch at Neal's favorite painting supply house. They had a never ending, twenty- four hour watch on all orders from any source.

Peter remembered getting a good night's sleep as something that was an old habit of his. He fell asleep only when weariness mowed him down. He brought up the program for internet orders again and he straightened, grabbing the rest of his cold coffee to give him the jolt he needed to be sure he was correct.

"Moz? Mozzie! Wake up," Peter yelled.

"What? What? I didn't do it," Moz said. "It was a conspiracy."

Sitting up, Moz threw off the blanket and stumbled over. He said, "Let's see. Move over, Burke, let me look. Russian sable brushes, Kolinsky. Check. Siberian Squirrel brushes; check, Deep edge canvas, Neal is crazy about deep edge canvas, Schmincke Mussini paints. Look at the amount of the Naples Yellow light. That's like a message to me. Neal used that uh the last time he painted in front of me."

"Lots of Naples Yellow in the Girl with the Necklace," Peter commented.

"What?" Moz said.

"Uh huh," Peter said. "Here, move over, let me get a trace on where the order s going. At least, he's alive and he's painting. Good idea you had about that."

"Neal will paint all night if he's upset," Moz said. "Elaine said Marley was crazy about watching Neal as an artist so it was a good bet. We have to find him."

"You're a good friend to him," Peter said.

"Yeah, I guess you are too," Moz remarked. "I can get why you did what you did with Kate. He wouldn't listen to me. You have to understand, Burke. Neal was a lonely kid. He wanted to be loved and he pinned all his hopes on Kate. I don't even know why. I guess he thought she was sweet and innocent because she was young, but I kinda knew she was bad news."

"Or no one is good enough for Neal," Peter said, as he put a tracer on the credit card.

Peter swiveled to face Moz as the program worked.

Moz said, "You and your wife might be good enough for him."

Peter was surprised to hear that. Moz said, "I thought you were ruining Neal's life, but now, I guess you can make it good for him. You can give him a real life, not always looking over his shoulder. That's a good thing."

"I promise you that I have no more hidden motivations. I was wrong to play that game with Kate. I wanted her to keep away from Neal and I got in over my head with it," Peter admitted.

"Damn near lost him," Moz said. "I never, ever saw him like that. Almost crazy. Not himself."

"I think I broke his heart. Mine with it," Peter replied.

The search engine pinged and Peter turned back to the screen. "The supplies are going to the Adirondack area, not far from Lake Flower" Peter said. "The house is a hunting lodge built for a paranoid millionaire. It changed hands about ten years ago. Recently there were some odd renovations."

"Peter?" El said, coming down the stairs in robe and slippers, yawning. "Did you find something?"

"Yes, Moz just verified an art order that almost has to be for Neal's is going to an address in the Adirondack Mountains."

"When are you going to get him?" El asked.

"As soon as it would be feasible to get the supplies delivered," Peter said. "We'll get in the door using a delivery van."

El said, "You go bring him home when you find him and I mean I want him here with us. You bring him to me."

"Your wish," Peter said.

OooOooO

The team was in place, backed up with US marshals. All of them were dressed in swat armor. Moz and El, who had also insisted on coming, were waiting back in the small village of Saranac. Peter has allowed them to accompany him, thinking that if Neal was traumatized he might respond better to Moz or to El than to Peter. He would not put Moz in the line of fire despite the man's insistence. He finally persuaded Moz that he trusted him to watch over El and the man stopped bitching about being out of the action.

Jones checked his equipment for the fifth time. He said, "If I had been watching Neal closer."

Lauren said, "You weren't his jailor. None of us thought that Neal would run out on you. He genuinely was concerned about his friends. We didn't account for Kate."

"I thought she left the country," Peter admitted.

Hughes was in one of the cars closing in on Marley's estate. Peter was not sure if it was because he genuinely cared about Neal or if the old man wanted his share of glory. Booking Marley on kidnap and possibly on rape was a coupe for any law enforcement agency.

Marley relied mostly on high tech security equipment, but he had a few security guards on duty. There was a chance of a hostile fire, but Peter felt well prepared.

Between the FBI, the US marshals, and local law enforcement, they had road blocks for miles. There was even a helicopter ready in case Marley fled cross country. There were small fast boats on the lake that bordered the estate. Peter had checked every detail and the joint law enforcement command had approved all of it. Peter was well aware that this was not about helping Neal, but he didn't care if most of this force was about capturing Marley at a crime for which he would serve life.

Jones plastered a smile on his face and drove the brown delivery van expertly. He would get Peter, Lauren, and the other FBI agents who volunteered inside. There was a full complement from Peter's unit, but even some of Ruiz's agents had asked to be included. Neal had become a mascot to the agency. He had walked in the door as the enemy, but now he was friend, comrade, and pet all wrapped into one.

Peter's heart beat furiously as the van was allowed in the gate. Their job was to get to Neal before Marley knew what was going on. Get him to safety.

The lodge was not all that big. There had been a great deal of work done recently. A bedroom on the west side had bullet proof windows, one way mirror windows, an odd expensive choice unless the bedroom held someone who Marley would allow to look out, but not to use the opportunity to escape and whom he did not want to have seen.

Elaine Durkins had profiled Marley. She said there was a high risk that Marley would kill Neal if he knew he would lose him. Marley's lust for Neal was twisted and perverse, obsessive and vicious.

Peter Burke hoped that Marley would resist. He would never feel Neal was safe unless Marley was dead. He knew that was no attitude for an agent, but it was the attitude for someone who loved Neal Caffrey.

OooOooO

Marley did not come out personally to collect the box of oil painting supplies. Peter had planned for that also.

Pretending to be obtuse, Jones said, "I'm sorry, but only the credit card holder can sign."

"What? I'm the head of security," the very large man said. He had a buzz cut so short it hardly counted as hair. His neck and head were nearly one circumference. He looked as if he wanted to pick Jones up and shake him.

"That's fine, sir," Jones said, taking out a pad of rescheduling notes.

"The boss wants that box right now," the man said.

"If he's not home, delivery time will be tomorrow afternoon," Jones said with dreadful cheeriness.

"Frankie," the guard said, "Go tell the boss he has to sign for the art stuff."

The subordinate winced and said, "I hate talking to the guy up there. He looks at me funny, you know, because of..."

"Shut up; he pays good. Go get him. That's what we get paid for and not flapping our jaws." the big man said. "Tell them the delivery jerk won't leave the box until he signs."

Marley came outside looking annoyed. Almost instantly, something alerted him. He yelled, "It's the fucking cops, you assholes!"

There was a wild race for the stairs. Peter tackled Marley. Marley physically grabbed him and threw him over the banister. Jones somehow barreled up the stairs, dodging bullets.

It was Lauren who shot Marley. The rookie agent had gone down on her knee, her hand steady as if she was on the practice range. She put a hole through Marley's heart.

OooOooO

"Neal!" Peter called. "Neal! It's Peter, Peter Burke." Peter's back was sore and he was sure he had a huge bruise on his knee but he was too hyped up to really care.

There were five doors leading from the hallway upstairs. Peter finally heard Neal's voice from behind one of them. He tried the door, found it locked, and picked it in record time. Neal tumbled out and into his arms.

Not caring who saw, Peter held Neal in his arms as if he would never let him go. Neal clung to him and said, "I knew you would come. I knew. Moz helped, didn't he?"

"I wouldn't let Moz put on armor and come to your rescue, but I did let him come. He and El are in the village waiting," Peter said.

"Marley?" Neal asked.

"Dead, Lauren shot him to save Jones," Peter said, waiting for reaction.

Neal nodded and drew himself straight. He was wearing a robe and some boxers, but nothing more. Peter gestured toward the room and asked, "You have anything to wear in there?"

"No," Neal said. "it took him a while to even let me have this much."

"Did he?" Peter asked.

"No," Neal said. "He wanted me to love him. He wanted consent that I would not give. I guess I'm okay."

Neal did not look okay. Peter guided him down the stairs, his arm supporting him. Lauren was sitting facing away from the covered body. Jones was with her, hand on her shoulder, supportive.

Both agents rose when Peter and Neal arrived. Jones claimed Neal for a moment, thumping his shoulder. Cruz hugged Neal. "I missed you. I don't know why I would miss you, but I did."

Hughes was looking on top of the world. He said, "Turns out that Marley kept an old fashioned diary. We will have proof of his crimes. I don't know it will be any solace to the families of his victims."

"It will be solace to the ones he won't kill in the future," Neal said. "It's solace to me."

"You okay, kid?" Hughes asked.

"I will be," Neal said. He turned back toward Peter. "Can I see Moz and El now? Can I go?"

Hughes said, "Questions can wait. I would hate for that miniature anarchist to start taking over the world to get Neal back. Take him to the village. We can get a full report in few days."

OooOooO

Peter called ahead to the hotel so Moz and Elizabeth were waiting in the lobby. Sinking into a hug that seemed to last forever, Neal greeted Moz. Peter tried not to notice that Moz was crying.

El finished embracing Peter. She drew Neal into her arms and he held on, held on, as if he would never let her go.

"You want to go home?" Peter asked.

"June's?" Neal asked.

"I wanted you to come home with us," El said.

"That's," Neal started. He hugged her again, no words.

"Brought you some clothes," Moz said. "Come on, Neal, let's get you dressed."

When Neal paraded down the stairs in one of his best rat pack suits, Peter remembered the first time he had seen Neal in his finery. It made him smile. It made him want to give into the urge to capture Neal all over again, but this time in an embrace.

Once in the car, Neal let El hold him. His head rested against her hair. Peter begrudged it not.

These horrible few weeks made Peter realize all the more how much he cared for Neal and how much he wished that he had handled things differently from the start.

If he wasn't driving, Peter would have been back there, holding onto Neal as tightly as El was.

Whatever the future held, Peter vowed no one would ever take Neal from his life again.

That was a promise.

End of chapter 2