Peter was in lower Manhattan. He was concerned about Neal, too concerned to go much further than he already had. It would be a twenty minute drive back to the confinement area. "Diana, do you have anything for me yet?" he asked, holding his phone to his ear.

There was wind blowing harshly behind her as she answered. "No, Boss. We're still looking, going from door to door like you asked."

He mentally cursed. It'd been almost six hours now. These first twenty-four hours were critical in kidnappings and he had no idea where to even start looking. "All right. Thanks, Diana." He hung up and put his phone back in his jacket. He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes. He kept seeing Neal's tear-stained face, tears still streaming down his face, begging him not to leave him in that cell. He wanted so desperately to let him out of there, but he knew he couldn't keep an eye on Neal, nor could he really stop him from carrying a gun. He talked to Reese an hour ago and updated him on Neal's situation, explaining the whole thing. That was when Reese had called in extra forces, much to Peter's relief. They had plenty of people scouring Manhattan for Nicky. It was just a matter of finding him before Adler could hurt him—assuming he hadn't already. He was heading over to an NYPD squad when his phone buzzed. He immediately pulled it out and saw that it was the confinement calling. "Agent Burke," he said upon answering.

There was a brief pause, but he could hear breathing on the other end. "Agent Caffrey escaped, sir."

His eyes widened. There was no way he could have gotten out of there. "What the hell do you mean he escaped?"

"The window was pulled out. We're trying to figure that out still, but we have no idea how long he's been out, sir. We only just discovered he was gone."

He closed his eyes and grit his teeth. He didn't answer anymore, hanging up on the man who'd called. "Everything all right, sir?"

"Add finding Neal Caffrey to our to-do list—radio it in to all the teams. He's escaped his solitary confinement," Peter said, frustration coating every word. This wasn't going to end well and he knew it. Neal is in an emotional state that warranted being locked up for a while, and now he's roaming around. He could be anywhere by now and that worried him. Depending on how long he's been out, he could even be dead at this point. "Damn it, Neal," he hissed, heading back to his car. He'd drive back to see just how smart Neal was. He knew Neal hadn't planned an escape while he was there because Neal begged him fearfully to take him along. He should have known that Neal wouldn't just sit tight while his son was out there.

In the twenty minutes it would take for him to reach the prison that let Neal escape, he had time to think about how much he loved the stubborn man. Neal, hopefully, was still alive and searching for Nicky. If he was, Peter guessed that NYPD or one of the other several teams of agents would spot him and bring him in. In all honesty, he hoped they found Neal before Neal did something that would ruin him. Neal was determined to let Adler have him if it saved Nicky and Peter was aware of how terrified Neal was of that. Neal knew how terrified Peter was, too, for that matter.

When he'd arrived, one of the guards flagged him down and asked him to follow him. Peter did as he was asked, getting out of the car and walking along the fencing to where a group of guards stood. They were standing around something, Peter realized. As soon as they parted, he understood the message Neal left behind. Glancing down the hill, he saw a river bank with large stones. "He jumped from the window," a guard said, pointing to the cell window Neal jumped from. "We're not sure, but we think he may have injured himself after jumping."

Peter nodded. Neal was still alive though, and that relieved him. He was in no state to run, if they were all assuming correctly. But this was Neal's cry for help. He doubled back to the Taurus quickly, not bothering to buckle himself in. He had limited time to find Neal.

•◊•

Neal stumbled into Stonewall, the gay bar he'd met Adler in initially. And as he was hoping, Adler was informed of where he was heading. He was hoping he could stall Adler long enough for Peter to get here and get his next message because he knew Peter would find the wall of stones he'd stacked up outside of the fence.

He limped towards a booth, dropping into it. He rolled his watch over on his left wrist, the band facing up. "Caffrey?"

Neal looked up to see a man he didn't recognize. "Yes," he said tentatively. The man slid in across from him, watching him. "Adler's man?"

He nodded. "Adler got the message. He's afraid to tell you he couldn't make the meeting personally, but he sent me to confirm that it was you." The man looked him over quickly. "You don't look armed. Now, what is it that you wanted to talk to Adler about?"

"Tell him I want to arrange a trade." The man looked taken aback. "Myself for my son," he continued. "And it needs to be in public."

"I'll see what I can do." Neal grit his teeth as the man made a phone call. He glanced at the bar, looking at drinks. After scanning the list, he glanced at the man on the phone. "Yes, I'll take him there. Washington Square in twenty minutes," he said as if Adler asked him to repeat the information and it was perfect for Neal. He looked up and met Neal's eyes. He nodded towards the bar, silently asking if he could get a drink. The man sighed and nodded. Neal pointed at him next and the man shrugged. He slid out of the booth and went up to the bar.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?"

Neal smiled at the man behind the counter. "A Long Island ice tea for me and Mr. Big for my buddy over there."

The man went to work, getting his drinks ready. Neal kept watching the entrance. Peter shouldn't get here anytime soon and he hoped none of his agents would either. It would blow everything he was working out. "Here you are," the man said after a few minutes, sliding the drinks across the counter. He nodded his thanks and lifted the glasses, taking them back to the booth. He set his down and then slid the other to sit in front of the man across from him.

The man put his phone down and took a swig of the drink. "So, Washington Park?" he asked, trying to make a small conversation. "That seems public enough."

"Finish your drink, kid. We're on a time limit."

Neal smiled as he drank from his glass. It tasted bitter in his mouth, and he really wasn't a fan of vodka on top of that. Peter would figure this out pretty quick, he hoped, and have backup on the way.

•◊•

Peter arrived at the Stonewall Inn with a few agents that had been nearby, claiming they hadn't seen Neal. He went inside without hesitation and scanned the immediate area. He couldn't see Neal in here, so why would he make a clue out to this place? Breathing heavily, he walked over to the counter. "Hey, there," the man said, smiling at him shyly. "What can I do for ya?"

"I'm here to ask about one of your patrons, actually." He pulled his phone out and flipped to an appropriate picture of Neal. "Have you seen this man?"

The man nodded. "You just missed him by about five minutes," he said apologetically. "He left with another man. It was a strange relationship, if you ask me." Peter's heart cringed at that, wondering what angle Neal was playing from. "He ordered them both drinks. Surprised me with the vodka. He looks more cultured, possibly a wine man."

Peter's eyes widened. "What did he order?" Neal had to be leaving clues behind. He knew Neal didn't like vodka, swore he'd never drink it again.

"Uh, the Long Island ice tea and Mr. Big."

He spun to face the agents who'd followed him inside. "What's around the area?" He felt like he should have known the answer to that question, but he normally didn't hang out around here. The woman rattled off a list of gardens, cafes, and a park. "Washington?" he repeated after her. She nodded. He tried to think back to anything he'd learned on Washington, realizing that he'd lost a battle at Long Island. He didn't understand the Mr. Big reference until the man said Washington preferred to be called 'Mister President.' "Get everyone to Washington Square now!" They raced out of the bar, and Peter muttered, "Neal, you brilliant bastard."

•◊•

Neal breathed heavily once they got out of the car the man had driven them in. Peter had to be at the bar by now, he thought. The two of them walked over to a bench and sat down. He couldn't help scanning the area, searching for Adler. His jaw ached with how hard he was gritting his teeth. He gripped his pant legs, bunching the fabric nervously. If things went wrong, Nicky might end up dead regardless. For Adler to arrange this, Nicky had to be alive and that gave him very miniscule relief.

"Daddy!" Neal spun around to see his son being held at the arm by none other than Vincent Adler.

He rose up from the bench, his breath catching. Nicky's face was bruised, his lips swollen. "What are your terms regarding your son?" Adler asked him, squeezing Nicky's arm, forcing the boy to cry out.

Neal tensed greatly, barely restraining his need to kill Adler. "I want him escorted home and then have him call this number." He held out a paper and Adler nodded.

"You walk to me when he walks away," Adler said slowly. He pulled a gun out of his jacket, smiling cruelly. "Make any move to run or snatch him up, he's dead."

Neal nodded, watching Nicky. Adler released him and shoved him forward a bit. Neal started heading towards Adler, nearing Nicky. He handed his son the paper with the phone number. It was Peter's cell phone. "Daddy—"

"It's okay, Nick," he whispered, messing with his hair. He knelt down and heard Adler load the gun. His eyes flickered to Adler and he growled, "I'm saying goodbye to him." Adler nodded, watching Neal closely as he kissed his son's forehead, whispering, "Peter's going to take care of everything, okay?" He wiped Nicky's tears away and forced a smile. "You'll be all right, I promise."

Nicky shook his head roughly. "I don't want to leave you, daddy."

"Baby, do this for me, please." His eyes pleaded with his son until Nicky finally gave in and nodded, taking the paper out of Neal's hand. "I love you, Nicky, so much."

"I love you, too."

Neal stood up and continued walking towards Adler. He made sure Nicky was with the other man before finally getting close to Adler. He reached out, stroking Neal's jaw. "It's been too long, again," he said quietly, his voice laced with poison.

"You hit my son," he said, his voice low and bitter. "Did you—?"

Adler shook his head. "I didn't fuck him, Neal. It was a hard thing not to do, but beating him seemed enough for me once I heard that you were willing to come to me." Neal swallowed back bile, only slightly relieved by the fact that Adler hadn't defiled all of his son's innocence. "Now, let's head back to my hotel, shall we? I had a room booked for the two of us."

Neal nodded slowly, allowing himself to be pulled along by Adler. They'd walked along a path for what felt like eternity to Neal and then Adler stopped, pulling Neal in for a bruising kiss. He groaned just to appease Adler. The longer they stayed here, the more likely it would be that Peter would rescue him. Adler ran his fingers through Neal's hair roughly, not even close to how Peter did it. He was taking advantage of the fact that they were alone, pretending to be a couple. He was purposely pulling Neal's hair, if only to hear him moan in pain. When Neal didn't give in, Adler pulled away and planted kisses along his neck—just like he'd done so many times.

They were practically alone, where no one could see them, so Adler took further advantage of the situation, shoving Neal down to the ground. He cried out in pain as his knees hit the cement. This position was all too familiar to him and it made his stomach churn. He looked up at the older man, finding the exact same look of lust he'd seen twenty years ago. Adler wouldn't do anything sexual in public, but he'd make Neal remember and that was enough pain in itself.

Adler chuckled, gripping the front of his shirt. He pulled him up and took his hand roughly. Before they were out of the park, he heard the sirens. Adler paused, tensing. They were surrounded within moments of the sirens sounding. Adler stared ahead in disbelief. "I booked the police," Neal whispered, smirking.

The older man turned to face Neal, glaring at him. "You've gone too far." He grabbed Neal and threw him to the ground, then he held the gun up, arched closer to him, and held it to Neal's forehead. Neal's breath hitched as he stared helplessly at Adler. He could see the anger in the older man's eyes, knew he was contemplating a world full of pain for Neal. "I'm debating on whether or not I should kill you right now," he hissed. He deliberately paused to think it over, even as the officers told him to lower his weapon. As long as he had Neal at gunpoint, they weren't going to shoot. He'd become a hostage situation, much to his dismay. "Well, I could always have your body delivered to me after it's been prettied up at the morgue. I've never tried to have sex with a dead man." His finger moved to pull the trigger and Neal's eyes shut tightly, anticipating the quick death—the immediate 'lights out.'

He heard a gunshot and flinched. The coolness of the gun faded away from him, but he felt no pain. Adler was screaming in agony. Neal opened his eyes to see Adler writhing on the ground, holding his leg. "Neal!" Neal turned quickly to see Peter with his gun in hand. In that moment, the amount of relief that passed between them intensified tenfold when he saw Nicky being led to a cruiser. Nicky was safe. Peter holstered his gun and sprinted towards Neal. The younger man only made about two steps forward before strong, broad arms were wrapping around him, holding him tightly. "God damn you," he whispered, kissing Neal's neck. "You crazy son of a bitch."

Neal smiled, hearing the underlying affection in Peter's voice. Peter pulled away from him and grabbed his face, pulling him close for a rough, passionate kiss. All of Peter's worry, anger, fear, and hopelessness washed into Neal, where as he let go of his anger, fear, and anxiety. When they parted for breath, they panted, staring into each other's eyes. "Peter," he breathed, grinning.

Adler was screaming at Neal, promising him that this wasn't over, while being led into an ambulance where they'd wrap his leg and then probably escort him to a prison cell. "Don't you ever pull something like that again, Caffrey." His hands were tangled in Neal's hair, twisting, pulling, and caressing the strands.

"I knew you'd come for me, Peter." He laughed lightly. "You're my hero, and I put my faith in you. You didn't let me down."

"What if I had? What if I didn't get Nicky to safety, get to you in time?"

Neal shook his head. "Have faith, Peter." He rested his hands on Peter's chest. "If there's anyone who can find me, it's you."

Peter sighed, kissing Neal's nose. "I'm just lucky to have found your clues. Nice stone wall, by the way. It was very intricate. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was around, I noticed." Neal chuckled. "I'm glad you're safe, Neal—safe and alive." Neal didn't comment on that. He just hugged Peter again, holding onto him, breathing him in. Peter is the definition of home for him, and he was right where he belonged. "Let's get home. NYPD was escorting Nicky." In less than twelve hours, they'd found Nicky. They rescued their son, arrested Adler, and Neal survived. Home was where he needed to be—with his family.

•◊•

Peter helped Neal up the stairs. He realized Neal was limping on the way to the car, so he was helping him get to the apartment. Peter unlocked the door and pushed it open. Neal expected to see a disaster, but was shocked to see absolute perfection. It was practically the way it'd looked before. "Mon frère," Mozzie said upon walking out of Nicky's room. "Welcome home."

He had the feeling Moz stayed here to fix the apartment, probably got some of his 'friends' to help move everything in. "Glad to be home."

At the sound of Neal's voice, Nicky came bounding out of the bedroom, stopping to stare at his father. Neal's breath hitched when he saw how grateful Nicky was, how absolutely happy he looked. Nicky raced over to them, wrapping his arms around both of their waists. "You're both home," he whispered, nuzzling their hips with his face.

"We're home, buddy," Peter said, stroking Nicky's hair. Peter lifted Nicky into his arms, holding him close. Mozzie said something about starting dinner and Peter offered to help momentarily. He held Nicky with one arm and used his other hand to help Neal walk carefully over to their bed. Neal sat down and Peter set Nicky down beside him. He kissed Nicky's forehead, then shifted over to kiss Neal's lips. "I'm glad you're both all right." He saw the bruises on Nicky and knew Neal would get all of the information out of his son. Neal smiled lovingly at him and he headed over to help Mozzie with dinner.

Neal's eyes flickered over each and every bruise he could see, his heart clenching. "Hands up, kiddo," he whispered. Nicky did as he asked and Neal pulled his shirt up and over his head, gasping when he saw that the bruises continued. Neal's fingers ghosted over each bruise. He could see the hand imprints and it made him angry. "I'm not going to let him get off easy for this. I hope you know that."

"I knew you wouldn't," Nicky said with a small smile. "You're an FBI agent, daddy. You're going to take him down, right?"

Peter glanced over his shoulder to see Neal smile at Nicky. "Oh, yeah. Nobody gets away with hurting you." He helped Nicky put his shirt back on, frowning when Nicky cringed occasionally. "You're not going to school for a while, Nick. I…I'm going to try to get off from work."

Nicky shook his head. "No, daddy. You can go to work. Uncle Mozzie and June will take care of me." Neal's lips parted. "You like this job, dad. You're good at it. I don't want you to lose this one."

"I've told you repeatedly not to worry about my—"

"It makes you unhappy," Nicky said quickly. "You like working with Peter. Go to work with Peter. I'll be okay."

Neal didn't know what to say. He just pulled Nicky close, hugging him gently.

Dinner was peaceful and quiet. Mozzie occasionally talked about his newest conspiracy theories—mostly going back to the moon landing, which intrigued Nicky. After dinner, Nicky got his DS from his bedroom and played on the couch in the living room, Mozzie at his side. Peter and Neal were out on the balcony and had been for a little while.

"I'm terrified, Peter," Neal admitted. "I'm going to testify against Adler, which you know already, but I…I can't face my mom. We've been estranged for almost seventeen years. I don't know how I could look at her and have a…normal conversation. She hurt me, Peter, without even having to touch me."

Peter nodded beside him. "If you want, I'll go with you," he offered. He had the feeling that Neal was going to stand by his decision to stay away from his mother. She was still in the hospital and they'd discovered that bones were broken, more than likely by Adler.

Neal was about to snap at him, tell Peter that he didn't need to see her, he didn't want to see her, but he relaxed, knowing Peter was trying to help him. "I guess. If you're there, you can pull me away from her if things get ugly."

"Planning an argument?" Peter asked, slight amusement in his voice.

"No, but I'm expecting one." He lifted his wine glass off of the ledge and drank from it slowly, watching Peter do the same with his bottle of beer. "She thought I lied to her. If she's really trying to find me, she must know I was telling the truth, which means all I'm going to hear are apologies filled with lies."

Peter slid his arm around Neal, rubbing his left hip. "Maybe she just wants to see you again. You're still her son."

Neal laughed bitterly. "She was never my mom though." He leaned closer to Peter, breathing evenly. "I thought I was going to be a bad parent because of her. I thought I was going to ruin Nicky the way she ruined me. I was afraid that there would come a day when he'd tell me something so traumatic and I'd just shrug it off and tell him it meant nothing. Just like she did."

"You're better than her," Peter said firmly. "She raised you poorly, but look how well you've turned out. You're a wonderful man with an amazing son, a nice apartment, a good job, and good friends."

The younger man looked up at him, smiling. "You forgot about the fuckin' fantastic boyfriend I have."

Peter chuckled, kissing Neal's forehead. "Well, yeah, I guess." He held Neal close, staring up at the night sky, the stars flickering brilliantly above them. "You picked yourself up when you were kicked down, Neal. Be proud of who you became because of her. If she hadn't hurt you, you might not be the man you are right now."

He took that into consideration. "I suppose you're right. I'm glad I'm here right now as I am. I have Nick, Moz, and you. Sometimes I think my life really sucks, but then I realize it's just the past that sucks."

Peter nodded. "Let's keep that in the past and work on making the future better." He looked down at Neal, who'd closed his eyes. "Our future," he added, his voice barely above a whisper.