He breathed deeply. So much so, that his brain flooded and dizziness washed over him. Leaning against the nearest lamppost he steadied himself. He wasn't far away. He couldn't quite place where his bodily irregularities were coming from. He wasn't hurt; he wasn't physically harmed at all. But his ego…that was suffering and it was suffering hard. It had been a long time since he had been so incredibly stupid and it had been an even longer time since he'd so narrowly escaped the consequences. Glancing up and around, he calmed somewhat at the familiar surroundings and busy, bustling streets. The sounds of his own voice filled his head, his empty promises that he knew he couldn't keep, and that would have dire consequences when reneged. He needed help and he knew exactly who the only person who could help him was. His stomach rumbled unpleasantly and a cool sweat broke out on his brow. But, he stiffened his shoulders and set off again, knowing from experience that to delay things always made them worse, eventually.

Fifteen minutes later, he was tapping softly at the familiar door.

Brushing her flour clad hands on her apron; El opened the door with a smile. "Oh Neal, hey sweetie. You're just the man I need. I need your input on this buffet I'm putting together and-" For the first time since she had met him, Neal was rude. "Not right now. El, Is Peter here? I need to see him. Right now." Blinking and instantly becoming alarmed by the tone, she shook her head. "No. He didn't come home yet. Which, now I think about it, is odd. He should have been here a few hours ago but he never showed, I assumed he was somewhere with you." Concern blazed in her eyes. "Is he ok? Is something going on? Neal, you tell me right now if there's something going on with my husband." A kindling of understanding sparked in the visitor. Peter knew. Peter was out there somewhere looking for him. Regret and fear bubbled in his stomach. Walking into the house and slumping on the sofa, he groaned into his hands.

"Nothing's going on with him, El. He's probably out looking for me…to kill me."

Leaving the door wide open in relief, she exhaled. Whilst she was far from happy that her husband was out on a wild goose chase as the goose was perched on their sofa, he was at least unharmed and safe. As always, the sight of Neal in distress stirred something in her and she sat gently down at his side, rubbing a hand through his hair. "What did you do now, Neal? You may as well fill me in now because we both know Peter is probably going to be loud enough when he gets home for me to hear." Whimpering into his hands at the truth of that statement, Neal dragged his head up and looked at her like a puppy at the shelter. "I messed up, El. I slipped my anklet because I wanted to do something to help a case that Peter forbade me to do. Only, I was careless and I was set up. I managed to get out of an unpleasant situation but the promises I made are ones I can't fulfil, and that's not good…for my health."

El grimaced and let out a billowing sigh.

"Neal! Why do you do these things, time and time again? How many times have you sat on this exact sofa as Peter chews you out? Do you ever listen, huh? Does anything he or I say get through to you, anything at all?" Dropping his head once more and feeling about one foot tall, Neal squirmed uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. El, I'm really sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing but I was an idiot and now, Peter is out looking for me and I'm here and the whole thing is just one big mess." She stared at his pale face and slumped shoulders and as usual, she relented. Peter was the one who could stay stern and lecture that adorable little face. She, on the other hand, was utterly ill equipped to do so. "Alright, alright. Let's get something hot in you and I'll call Peter so he's not driving around aimlessly. That'll just make him even madder and-"

"I could not be any madder with him. Not by a long shot."

Neal and El twisted their necks around as if they possessed no muscles between the two of them. Neal paled and El placed a protective arm around his shoulders. "Now hon, I think you need some time to cool off before you talk to Neal. He needs something to eat and drink anyway and so do you. So, why don't you go on and freshen up and I'll fix you both some dinner. How does that sound?" Shrugging out of his suit jacket, Peter shook his head firmly. "Thanks hon, but he and I can have dinner later. I met Amy from across the street on the way in. She says you two are supposed to have a catch up after her holidays and she's free now, if you are. I think that would be nice for you and it would give Neal and I a chance to…talk." She heard the gentle note under his tone and knew he was asking her to trust him. Feeling torn, but knowing he would never hurt or go too far with Neal, she nodded. Squeezing the pale informant's shoulder, she strode past her husband with a peck to the cheek and a whisper in his ear. "An hour or so tops. Then I want to fuss over him. Is that clear?"

He nodded his agreement and shut the door gently after her.

Neal gulped as he strode to stand in front of him, his arms crossing across his shirt clad chest. "I am going to give you one opportunity to tell me everything. If you blow it, then we're going to have serious problems because I am sick to the back teeth of this Neal. I've had it up to here with your run arounds and your disobedience. So, one opportunity, take it. Now." Knowing that he was far from bluffing, the young man swallowed the knot of fear in his throat and nodded. Speaking lowly but quickly and without an agenda, he told Peter everything. The meeting, the way it had all gone so wrong. The assurances he'd had to make to escape, the blow back he could expect when he didn't deliver. He told him everything. To his credit, Agent Burke bit back every outburst that sprung to his lips and let the kid confess all, without interruption. Quiet flowed between them after he had heard the full story, thought lines creasing his brow.

"I will deal with the repercussions of your false promises. There won't be any, I promise."

Neal nodded guiltily and gratefully, knowing that he would made good. Staring down at his protégé, Peter felt the all too familiar exasperation burst within him. "Why the hell do you still pull this crap, Neal? What do I have to do to get through to you? Every time, every single time I think I'm finally getting somewhere with you, you go and do something like this. Do you have any idea how dangerous what you did is? Do you? You walked right into that group of Neanderthals without a second's thought putting your neck on the line. You slipped your anklet, which we will come back to, and put your deal on the line. What the hell is the matter with you? What goes on inside your head? I try to understand, I really do, but I just can't. I can't understand how somebody like you makes the choices you do. You could be anything or anyone and yet you continually go back to lying, cheating and breaking the rules. I am fed up with it. Do you hear me? I am fed up with it."

Neal flinched and looked intently down at his hands.

"Look at me when I am speaking to you," Peter barked. "I am through with talking to myself. Now, I know what you did but I don't know why. I want to know why, so you are going to tell me why and you are going to do it now. I don't want to be insulted with clever word play and half truths." He scrubbed a hand across his face and softened his tone, but only somewhat. ""Damnit Neal, you are so much better than this. You have so much more potential than this. Tell me what made you go off the reservation again. Not because I'm your handler and because you're my CI. But because I'm me and you're you. And because you're my…" he reddened, but persevered. "You're my family now, Neal. And I can't stand by and watch you continually sabotage yourself and not understating why."

If Neal felt bad before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now.

Guilt surged, hot and strong through his veins as he shifted uncomfortably. Usually, this was when he would carefully direct Peter away from his line of questioning. But he couldn't, not now. The truth had been eating at him for a long time and maybe it was time to clue someone else in. "Sometimes…I worry that you're going to wake up one day and realise that I'm more trouble than I'm worth. Then it'll be back to an orange jumpsuit and cold showers. Then, once that's over, it'll be back out on the streets to…nothing. No family, one friend. I guess I'm always waiting for the hammer to fall. I thought that by making myself useful, indispensible even, you wouldn't wake up that morning and think I was too much of a burden. That's why I met those guys. I thought if you could be reminded what I can bring to the table, to the case, that you would be less likely to have that morning moment and get yourself a CI that does as they're told and doesn't make your hands twitch with the urge to strangle them."

Peter stared.

"Is that what you think?" he said quietly, shock and guilt bubbling within him. "That I'm just using you for your skills and that if those skills are outweighed by the headaches you cause me, I'll just can you?" Neal dropped his gaze again, unrebuked, and nodded. "Sometimes," he mumbled, "Yeah." Shame swept over Peter in that moment as he stared at the sad frame of what was usually a chipper as all hell kid. He chewed his lip. Somehow, his glib comments and threats about sending the boy back to jail were not so glib anymore. Somehow, his insistences that Neal be on the case twenty-four seven until it was solved, seemed cruel. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. When he opened them again, he saw the worry shining in Neal's eyes and acted on impulse. Fixing him with the now trademark finger point, he cleared his throat. "Come here." He pointed to the spot on the floor directly in front of him. "Come right here."

Neal died a little inside when he realised that his stint on death row was over. It was execution time.

Standing slowly, he shuffled over to the gallows with a nervous sheen of sweat on his face. Reaching the designated point, he waited with anxiety as if expecting to be seized and uncerimonously dealt with, even though Peter never did that. There was silence for a moment as each man regarded each other. Then Neal felt surprise coat him as a gentle hand was rested on each shoulder and Peter's suddenly soft voice filled the room. "Bud. I may be an insensitive jerk at times, or so El says. But those stupid comments about sending you back to prison and orange jumpsuits? That's all they are. Stupid comments from an old man who sometimes opens his mouth before he gives his brain a chance." He squeezed the shoulders under his hands carefully. "Neal, I will never send you back without a fight. Never. As far as I'm concerned, prison is in the past for you. Unless you kill someone, I'm pretty much going to be keeping you around for as long as you want to be kept." He stared seriously at the shocked young man. "I mean it buddy. You are not some asset to be used until you can be used no more. You're my friend and my family and I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even from yourself."

He moved away then, giving Neal some space.

"Do you understand what I'm saying son?"

A dam of relief was bursting slowly within the brilliant blue eyes as a head was slowly nodded. Neal was a con's con and he knew how to lie and knew when he was being lied to. He wasn't being lied to here, far from it. Peter wasn't a particularly loquacious or emotionally in-tune man, but he was an honest man and he was telling an honest man's truth. "I understand," he said quietly, his voice laden with raw emotion. "I believe you, Peter. I do." A broad smile crossed the elder mans' face as he saw a mirrored truth in Neal's eyes. He reached out before he could stop himself and ruffled the usually pristine hair, which elicited the scowl he knew it would. "Hands off," Neal grumbled, flattening out his locks, "The oil on your hands will make it greasy!"

Peter rolled his eyes.

"And the two tonne bottle of lotion that's in it won't?"

Neal shot him a baleful look but otherwise seemed to radiate a silent contentment.

His stomach suddenly rumbled.

"So, I guess we'll have that dinner El was talking about right now?"

Peter stared and raised a brow, a sternness seeping back to his features, and shook his head."

"Nice try buddy, but my guess? My guess is that you're about to get your butt well and truly spanked right now."

Neal dropped his head with a miserable groan.

"It was worth a try."

…..

TBC

….