I'm sorry this chapter took so long, but I've been working on my other story as well. I hope it was worth the wait!

Mozzie was so close! He knew where the government was keeping Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, John F. Kennedy and many others against their will, but they must have heard that someone had figured out their location and moved elsewhere. He would have return to his dwellings and try to find where they moved to. He was going to find those people whom the corrupt government abducted one way or another, that was for sure!

But first, Mozzie wanted to see if Neal had restocked his wine collection while he was on his quest.

June wasn't home, so a maid let Mozzie into the lavish mansion and he made his way to Neal's spacious apartment. He knocked in his usual random manner and waited for his friend to open the door.

He listened for a sound, but couldn't hear any movement on the other side of the solid oak, so he knocked again. Still nothing.

It wasn't odd for Neal to be out on a late Tuesday afternoon. He was part of the establishment now – a regular nine-to-fiver. And as much as Mozzie hated to see it, the kid was out of prison, so it was better than his previous position.

Neal was used to coming home to see his friend already there, so Mozzie tried the doorknob to see if it was locked. It was not. Mozzie was going to have to talk to Neal about that. Some kook could come in and take anything they wanted.

While waiting for Neal to return, Mozzie helped himself to a lovely Burgundy Pinot Noir that wasn't there last time and contemplated the location of the underground bunker where The Man's prisoners were currently being held.

A few hours and roughly half a bottle of wine later, the sun was setting and Neal still wasn't back, so Mozzie pulled out his phone of the week and called Neal up. He wasn't worried, just curious as to where his friend had wandered off to.

Three rings later, a voice that was definitely not Neal's picked up. "Hello?" The deep voiced person said.

"Uh... Who is this?" Mozzie asked.

"Agent Reynolds. Who is this?"

A fed! Why did a fed have Neal's phone? Mozzie wanted to hang up, but he had to get to the bottom of this.

"Where is Neal?" He demanded in his most threatening voice.

"Caffrey? He and Agent Burke left a few hours ago. They said they were going to the hospital. Caffrey looked a little beat up," the agent said.

The hospital? Neal was hurt? This was even worse than he expected.

"Did they say which hospital they were going to?"

"Yeah. Mount Sinai," the strangely helpful suit said. Mozzie almost thanked him before hanging up. Almost. He wasn't crazy.

He really didn't want to enter the disease-ridden death trap most considered a health care facility, but this was for Neal, and if there was anyone who could make Mozzie do something he didn't want to do, it was Neal.

WCWCWCWC

Peter was walking back from the vending machines with a ridiculously expensive candy bar and can of soda in his hand when he saw a short, bespectacled man that looked quite familiar save for the toupee on his head. He was wearing a white lab coat and had a stethoscope around his neck. He was pretending to look intently at a clipboard while discreetly watching anyone who passed him and Peter wondered if that clipboard had Neal's information on it.

Was Mozzie really impersonating a doctor? Peter shook his head in exasperation and walked over to the 'doctor.' "What are you doing here, Mozzie?" Peter asked.

Mozzie looked up at Peter through thick-rimmed glasses. "I don't know who this 'Mozzie' person is. My name is-" he referred to his name tag on his coat to see what his name was, "Dr. Wang. Is there something you need ... Suit?"

"Are you really going to keep this up?" Peter asked, half exasperated, half annoyed.

"I don't know what you think I'm keeping up, but if I did, then yes, I am," Mozzie said.

Peter just shook his head. "I'm going to see Neal, do you want to come?" He asked.

Mozzie shifted his feet and looked around, then turned back to Peter. "Yeah, ok," he said, but then pointed a finger in the air. "But not because you invited me, but because I was going there anyway. People don't tell me where to go, I choose to go there myself."

"Yeah, whatever," Peter said and started walking towards Neal room, with Mozzie in tow.

Neal was still asleep - probably due to the medication they had him on.

Mozzie took one look at Neal - the black eye, IV in the crook of his arm, looking generally fragile in the hospital bed - and let Peter see his ire from seeing his friend hurt.

"How could you let this happen to him? You're supposed to be protecting him!" Mozzie yelled.

"I didn't let this happen. I wasn't even there," Peter defended.

"You weren't there? What happened?" Mozzie asked, a little less angry.

"Don't know. He doesn't remember," Peter said, frustrated.

"He doesn't remember?" Mozzie asked, horrified. "Was he brainwashed?"

"He wasn't brainwashed," Peter said in an exasperated tone.

"Was he hypnotized? Does he even remember his name?" Mozzie looked really worried now, but not mad at Peter anymore, so Peter supposed it was an improvement.

"No, he wasn't hypnotized either. And yes, he remembers his name, just not much of the last couple of days," Peter said.

"I knew I shouldn't have left," Mozzie said to himself, then turned to Peter again. "I'm never trusting you people to keep him safe again. I'll just have to bring him with me when I leave," he said.

"Don't even joke about that," Peter warned with a stern finger.

Mozzie was about to say something when a voice across the room spoke up. "Keep your voice down, some of us are trying to sleep." Both men turned to see two blue eyes sparkling with amusement looking back at them.

"Neal!" Mozzie said and rushed over to his friend.

"Hey, Moz," Neal said with a smile. "When did you get back?"

"A few hours ago, but that's not important; what's important is that we get you out of here before they take all of your memories," Mozzie said and moved to pull out the IV in Neal's arm, but Peter stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"Neal's not going anywhere, and this hospital didn't take his memories away," Peter told Mozzie.

"That's what they want you to think," Mozzie said and reached for the IV with his other hand, but Peter grabbed that one too. "Take your hands off me, suit! I have to save Neal before it's too late."

Peter was about to say something when Neal, who had been silently watching with an amused look on his face, spoke up. "Peter, let go of Mozzie, and Mozzie, stop trying to take away my drugs."

Peter and Mozzie looked at each other, then unanimously decided to move apart and a little away from the bed. Neither man won, neither man lost - yet.

"Good, now that we're no longer bickering or trying to free the 'prisoner,' I can tell you that I remember what happened," Neal said as he carefully sat up more.

"Are you sure they're your memories and not artificial ones they planted in your head so it didn't look suspicious that you don't remember?" Mozzie asked, completely serious.

"I think they're mine, Moz," Neal said.

"If you say so," Mozzie said, not convinced.

"Can you just tell us what you remember?" Peter asked.

Neal nodded and recounted what he remembered about that night.

"I can't believe you did that!" was the first thing to come out of Mozzie's mouth after Neal stopped talking. "What kind of stupid thoughts were going through your head?"

"There wasn't any time, Moz. And I thought that I could talk them down." He let out a bitter laugh. "Of course that didn't work out as well as I thought it would."

"You're not invincible, Neal. Bullets don't bounce off of you, cars don't stop at your will, and you certainly can't leap buildings in a single bound! One of these days your luck is going to run out," Mozzie said.

"And you'll be there to tell me 'I told you so,' " Neal said.

Mozzie gave Neal a disturbingly serious look. "Neal, on that day, I won't want to," he said sadly.

Just then, the door opened and Jones and Diana walked in. "Hey, guys," Jones greeted.

Mozzie noticeably stiffened from having too many suits in the same room with him. He looked like he wanted to bolt, but stayed as still as he could, like he wouldn't be seen if he did so.

Neal noticed and thought Mozzie could use some air. "Mozzie, why don't you go get some coffee," he suggested.

Mozzie stared at him with an uncomprehending look on his face for several seconds, then seemed to get it. "Right, of course! I'll get some 'coffee,' " Mozzie said and tried to discreetly wink at Neal without any of the suits seeing, and failed.

"You know he's going to come back in here with some crazy plan to get you out of here, right?" Peter asked after he left.

"Yeah, I know," Neal sighed, then turned to the new arrivals. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Jones found a lead on what might have happened," Diana said.

"I actually remember a lot of it now," Neal said.

"Good, that should help," Diana said.

Jones opened up a file he had in his hands. "Well, according to your tracking data, you were on Watercrest Street for about an hour. There's nothing really on that street - it's actually more of an alley."

"We went down there and found this," Diana said and held up an evidence bag with a wallet inside.

"Was there an ID?" Peter asked.

Jones nodded. "Yep, Mathew Green, Eighteen years old. He was arrested when he was sixteen for shoplifting and again a few months ago for selling fake IDs, but since he was still seventeen at the time, he didn't get any jail time," he said.

"Do you have a picture?" Neal asked.

Diana pulled out her phone and pressed a few buttons, then handed it to Neal. Neal studied the picture for a moment. "This is him. This is the guy they were mugging," he said.

"Who was mugging?" Jones asked.

"The guys who attacked me," he said.

"Are you sure?" Peter asked.

Neal nodded. "Yeah," he said and handed Diana her phone back.

"Do you think you could sketch the guys who attacked you?" Diana asked.

Neal nodded. "Yeah, if I can get a pen and paper."

"I'm sure I could get some at the nurse's station," Diana said and left.

"And I'll go make sure the little guy isn't trying to impersonate one of the hospital staff to get ahold of drugs or something," Jones said and left as well.

Peter turned to Neal, who was picking at the tape that held the IV in his arm. "Stop picking at that," Peter scolded.

Neal looked up, picked at it one more time for spite, then stopped.

Peter walked over to one of the chairs next to the bed and sat down. "Why did you try to stop them? Why didn't you just call the cops?" he asked, referring to the thugs.

"I told you, there wasn't enough time," Neal said without looking at Peter.

"Don't give me that," Peter said. "You and I both know you abhor violence, you avoid it as best as you can, so don't tell me you went down that alley just because you didn't think there was time."

Neal sighed and relented. "Before you caught me, it wasn't always cappuccino in the clouds. I left home at eighteen with two hundred dollars to my name. I lived on the streets for a few months before I could get a job. Most people wanted someone who at least had a high school diploma, so I got passed up by a lot of people before I was hired.

"Of course, without any legal means to get money, I had to turn to some less legal ones for a while. And let's just say I pissed the wrong people off a few times."

"You got beat up," Peter needlessly clarified.

Neal nodded.

"Shoplifting, selling fake IDs. You saw some of yourself in him," Peter said.

"I don't know what you're talking about, you have no proof that I did any of those things," Neal said, probably to deflect what Peter said. "Besides, I didn't know he did any of that when I helped him."

"So why did you then?"

"There were times when I wished someone would come and stop them from beating the crap out of me." Neal shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "I thought it would be nice if someone's prayers were answered, even if they weren't mine."

Peter nodded. "It was brave, what you did," he said after a moment. "Boneheaded and implosive and kinda stupid, but brave."

Before Neal could reply, the door opened and Mozzie came in with a gurney. He was still wearing his doctor's disguise.

"What are you doing, Haversham?" Peter asked as he got up.

"I'm doing what you should have been doing this whole time: saving him," Mozzie said as he lined the gurney up next to Neal's bed.

"I can't let you do that," Peter said as he stepped in front of Mozzie.

"If you don't want to be part of this, then I suggest you leave now," Mozzie said as he picked up a hypodermic needle and vial of who-knows-what and started filling the syringe.

"Stop, Mozzie," Peter said, then looked at the syringe the paranoid man was still holding. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he still asked, "What's in that?"

"If you must know, suit, it's a cocktail of drugs that will make Neal's heart rate slow down to the point of appearing to be dead," he explained calmly, like it wasn't a big deal to nearly kill his friend.

"You're not killing him!" Peter protested.

"Were you not listening to me? I'm not killing him, I'm just making it look like he's dead," Mozzie explained slowly to him like he was a child.

"Fine, you not nearly killing him!"

"Maybe I should have a say in this," Neal suggested.

"Your mind has been compromised, Neal. You can't make you own decisions," Mozzie said with a clear note of sadness on his voice.

"I think it's your mind that's been compromised," Peter said and tried to take the syringe from Mozzie, but he moved out of the way of his hand before he could grab it.

"Touch me again, suit, and I'll bring you up on assault charges," Mozzie warned.

Peter looked over to Neal for help. He couldn't deal with the paranoid man anymore.

"Mozzie, I'm staying here until I'm released," Neal said firmly. "And I'm definitely not letting you nearly kill me."

Mozzie looked upset by what Neal said and he looked like he wanted to protest, so Peter was surprised when he seemed to accept what Neal said. "When are you being released from this governmentally sanctioned petri dish then?"

Neal looked to Peter for the answer.

"Tomorrow, if you're good," Peter told Neal.

"Tomorrow, then," Neal said to Mozzie with a big smile on his face.

"It might be the day after," Peter said in a grim tone.

Reviews make me smile!