A/N: I have taken all your opinions into consideration and I hope you will enjoy this chapter. Neal will be loopy and loose-lipped, but Peter won't confront him about things he said until he's more sober. It wouldn't be fair to take advantage of a drugged Neal. And just a little warning, this chapter contains references to child abuse and possible slight mentions of sexual abuse. Nothing graphic or obscene, but I felt obliged to warn you. Just a warning.

And if you don't recognize the song I used, it's Hold On I'm Comin by Sam and Dave. One of my favorite older songs. And it was, much to my excitement, used in the pilot episode of white collar!

Peter was sitting on his living room couch, engrossed in a basketball game on TV. El was in the kitchen doing dishes. Satchmo was sleeping at Peter's feet. All was peaceful in the Burke house.

"HOOLLLDDDD ONNNN, 'CUZ I'M COMINNN!"

Peter nearly jumped out of his seat, scaring Satchmo. He instantly realized where the sound was coming from. Elizabeth ran into the living room, her hands covered in yellow rubber gloves, a dripping plate in her hand.

"What on earth was that?" she asked her husband, her eyes wide with confusion and worry.

"That's just Neal. It's starting already." Peter said, groaning slightly as his stiff bones popped when he got off the couch. He'd been sitting there for longer than he'd thought. "I'll go check on him."

El stifled a laugh when the con upstairs belted out another lyric.

"HOOLLLDDDD ONNNN, I'M COMINNN!"

Peter sighed and headed up the stairs. When he was outside of Neal's door, he didn't bother knocking. He opened the door slightly at first, peering in at his partner. The man was laying on his back on the bed, on top of all the covers, one hand resting on his abdomen. His other hand was hanging limply off the bed. Neal's head was bobbing from side to side slightly, and his eyes were closed.

"Neal?" Peter said, opening the door wider.

Neal's eyes snapped open and a huge grin spread across his face.

"Hi!" Neal called out, awkwardly sitting up so he could lean against the head board.

"Neal, you're gonna have to be a little quieter, the neighbors will hear you." Peter said. He felt like he was talking to a child. That feeling only greatened when Neal's face fell and he replied,

"Are you mad at me?"

Peter sighed heavily, running a hand down his face.

"No, Neal, I'm not mad at you. Just stay a little quieter this time. Okay?"

Neal gave him a blank stare, making no indication he'd understood Peter.

Peter turned to leave the room.

"Peter!" Neal called out. Peter turned around to face the man again.

"Yes, Neal?"

"What?" Neal responded after a pause. Normally Peter would think the man was simply trying to irritate him, but at the moment Neal seemed to honestly not know why Peter had turned around.

"You just called my name."

"I did?" Neal asked, his face scrunching up in confusion. Peter could hear the slight slur in Neal's words.

"Yes, Neal, you did. I'm going to go downstairs now, okay?" Peter said slowly, hoping Neal would understand.

"Peter, wait!" Neal called just as Peter's back was turned. Peter did a complete 360 degree turn to face Neal again, growing more and more aggravated by the second.

"Yes, Neal?"

Neal paused for a moment, his eyes glazing over. After an intense moment of thought, Neal simply shrugged his shoulders and began to sing under his breath.

Peter sighed and left the room, practically slamming the door behind him.

…

Peter was on his couch again, enjoying the peace and quiet. He assumed Neal had fallen asleep again.

"P'tr… did you know you got a safe up there?" he heard from behind him.

Peter turned around to see Neal standing at the bottom of the staircase, his face containing a look of amazement and confusion blended together.

"Neal… Did you open it?" Peter asked. In the back of his mind he wondered how the currently uncoordinated and drugged man had gotten down the stairs so quietly.

"Peter, I'm hurt! I would never steal from you!" Neal said, the slur in his voice causing all his words to mesh together. His voice resembled a toddler's.

Peter stood and crossed the living room. When Neal released his grip on the banister, Peter instantly grabbed his arm to keep him from falling over. He led Neal over to the couch, where the younger man practically fell into it.

"Neal, are you alright?" Peter asked nervously, crouching down on his knees so he was eye-to-eye with the con man. Not that it would help Neal's comprehension anyway. The man was completely incoherent.

"Pshhhh Peter, I'm fine…" he said, making an attempt to stand. Peter stood up instantly, catching the man as he staggered forward.

"Neal, I think you should lay down and rest." Peter said, helping Neal into a sitting position on the couch again.

"Nooo Peter, I don't need rest!" he said, almost irritated, "I need to save Neal!"

Peter looked at him, having no idea what he was talking about.

"What do you mean, Neal, you're right here…"

"Nooo," Neal said matter-of-factly. "He's with his dad!" he looked at Peter as if he were the stupidest man in the world.

Peter realized that it would get him nowhere to argue with him. Instead he tried to play it out and see where it was going.

"Why is Neal with his dad?" Peter asked slowly, noticing when the man's demeanor slightly changed. His eyes were looking everywhere but Peter's, and he talked with total nonchalance.

"'Cuz he was bad."

"When was Neal bad?" Peter asked, feeling awkward talking about Neal in the third-person fashion.

"When he was younger." Neal said, his eyes peering down at his hands.

"What did he do that was so bad?" Peter asked, feeling a hint of remorse for taking advantage of Neal's drug-induced state.

"He made his father angry." Neal stated. Peter sighed and asked one last question.

"Look at me. Come on, look at me."

Neal's eyes shifted slightly to meet Peter's. They had the faintest sheen of tears.

"Did Neal's father ever hurt him when Neal was bad?"

Neal's answer was barely a whisper.

"Yeah… He hurt him a lot… B-But he deserved it, ya know?" Neal's voice grew, internally bullying himself now. Convincing himself that it was his own fault. "He was always screwing up! At all the dinner parties and the events, he made a fool out of his father! He was always…"

Peter cringed when Neal finished.

"… letting him down."

"Neal, look at me." He said. When Neal faced Peter, his face distraught and confused, Peter said, "You did not deserve any of what your father did to you. And I don't even know what the hell he did! Now…" Peter was at a loss for words. He still had no idea how to handle the emotions his partner portrayed. "Go get some rest. You do need it."

"What about Neal?" the man asked, still talking in third-person.

"I'll talk to Neal in the morning, okay? Now go sleep." Peter said, helping Neal stand up. He guided the man upstairs and into the guestroom. Well dragging was more like it. Neal barely made a sliver of effort in helping him up the stairs. He simply lay as dead weight against Peter.

By the time Neal was laying on his bed again, his personality had gone back to the happy child-like state it had started in. As Peter shut the door, he heard a muffled, "So why don't ya hold onn, 'cuz I'm comin…"

He chuckled lightly and headed downstairs. He would have to confront Neal tomorrow. It was blatantly obvious that he was hurting, and had many memories he'd kept to himself for years. Peter sighed and sat on his couch, trying to catch up on the portion of the basketball game he'd missed.

"Neal, what am I gonna do with you…" Peter mumbled to himself, watching the players on TV scramble around the court.

"I don't know, Peter." A voice said from behind him. He recognized the slur. He turned around to face a grinning con man gripping onto the banister for support.

Peter sighed exaggeratedly and crossed the room to Neal, once again dragging him up the stairs.

"Ya know Peter you should really get better locks, anybody could pick that bedroom one…" Neal's voice faded as Peter got him farther up the stairs.

Elizabeth walked out from the kitchen where she'd been eavesdropping for the past half hour. She sighed and sat on the couch, waiting for her husband to join her. Neal may have been a criminal but she cared for him almost like a son. It hurt her to think that Neal's actual bloodline was as horrible as she'd heard. El momentarily wondered about Neal's mother. She wasn't even sure if he'd had one. Regardless, it was obvious that Neal needed a comforting figure in his life. And she really hoped her husband could do that for him. She really did.

A/N: I am so so so so so so so sorry I haven't updated in almost a week! It's been a little hectic but I hope to be back on track with updates right away. It was very difficult to write a drugged Neal. I realize it was probably very OOC, but most drugged people don't act themselves anyway. So please don't be cruel! Criticism is always appreciated, as is praise, because reviews are my favorite thing! There is plenty of Peter comfort to come. The big break down scene will not be in the next installment, but it is coming.

I just have one question. When Neal shares memories with Peter, do you prefer him verbally telling Peter or flashbacks? I'm fine with writing either one. Please leave your opinion in a review, thanks!

-AgentDiNozzo13