A/N: There is a brief minor/adult sexual encounter. It is not explicit, but it's there.

Neal glanced over his shoulder to briefly look at the man writing down everything that was being said word for word. He was being drilled by their superiors for his actions when they'd rescued Neil several days ago. "On what grounds do you believe you were justified in immediately murdering the assailant without making an attempt to arrest him?"

He leaned forward so he could speak clearly to the investigators in front of him. "Vincent Adler was my stepfather. He's a registered and known sex offender and that was proven a few years ago when I testified against him in court. He was convicted of raping me as a minor as well as abusing my son who was also a minor at the time of his kidnapping. As soon as I, Agent Peter Burke, and our CI entered the building, he was raping the teenager in front of us." Neal inhaled sharply, clasping his hands together tightly. "I will admit that my actions were wrong. I acted impulsively and went against protocol."

"You tampered with physical evidence."

"I know," Neal said firmly. "But if you'd seen him—"

He was cut off immediately. "As a member of the law enforcement, you should know how to properly go about situations like this." Neal's jaw clenched as he nodded. "Because of your impeccable reputation amongst the White Collar division and recommendations from your direct superiors in your division, all you are being given is a five week suspension." Neal closed his eyes, wishing he'd thought with his brain instead of his heart. He changed his mind and wished they would think with their hearts. Damn the law, he figured, for damning him while he tried to help the kid who was still being raped the moment he'd barged into the farmhouse. "You are to give your badge and gun to your Assistant Special Agent-in-charge, you are not permitted to take part in open investigations, and you are forbidden from entering or nearing the premises of the FBI building for the duration of your suspension. Any violations of your suspension may result in more severe consequences."

They went on to tell him that his mental and emotional stability was being questioned as well as his ability to follow the rules. All he did was nod. He disliked these men because they seemed so cold and heartless. He assumed none of them were fathers and figured none of them would actually understand what it's like to deal with a teenager, and a teenage rape victim at that. He knew he should have followed protocol. Peter always did when it came to Neal, but Neal hadn't thought about his job. He thought about his duty to protect the teenager. Children, regardless of age, always came first in his book.

Peter hadn't been let into the room when they told him Neal was being interrogated. It scared the hell out of him to see that his husband was being surrounded by Reese's bosses and, the moment Neal came out of the interrogation room, Peter was there. "What'd they say?"

"I'm suspended for five weeks," Neal said angrily. "I'm such a fucking idiot."

Peter bit his lip. He hadn't been thinking properly either, but everything had been pinned on Neal because he'd directly interacted with Neil and he'd killed Vincent. There was no arguing that Neal was the shooter because it had been his gun and his bullet. "Neal, they have to understand to some extent that you—"

"I'm emotionally unstable is what they declared and I've been recommended to a psychologist that I have to see twice a week for the next five weeks." Peter didn't know what to say to that. "I'm about ready to hand everything over and just walk away from this job. What kind of bullshit is this? They weren't there to see how much pain he was in and how disgusted he was with himself." He turned and gestured at the room the investigators were still sitting in even though he couldn't see them anymore. "I'm tempted to walk back in there and ask if they'd like pictures taken of them after being raped."

The older man had no intention of turning on his husband, but he knew they were going to have a full-fledged argument at some point over this. "Neal, we should have taken pictures for proof. You were…emotionally invested in—"

"You're turning against me?" Neal asked incredulously. "God damn it, Peter." He pulled his gun out of the harness beneath his suit jacket and unclipped his badge from his belt and shoved them at his husband. "Give them to Reese. I'll have my resignation for you to take to him in the morning. I'm fed up with this federal bullshit."

"Neal, think about this before you do something impulsive," Peter warned.

"I'm already impulsive, Peter! I don't belong here. All I am is a liability. The only thing I'm good for here is taking the brunt of the damage. I'm a perfect whore for our marks, too." He gritted his teeth, breathing heavily. "I'm resigning whether you like it or not. I know you're bound by the law, but I can't follow in your footsteps. I couldn't just wait for them to take pictures of him. Do you know how much worse that would have made things? Peter, if I'd had pictures taken of me after I'd been raped—at any point in my life—I know I would resent people who allowed or took pictures. Who the hell wants to look at someone bruised, battered, dirty, and violated?" Peter frowned at his husband. Neal wanted answers from Peter, but he knew Peter wasn't going to give him anything, so he shook his head, sighing exasperatedly. "I'm going home. Do me a favor and clean out my desk when you get back to the bureau. I'm done. I'll find a different job that doesn't involve fucking my morals for the law's sake."

"Neal, please," Peter pleaded, reaching out for Neal's arm.

Neal wrenched himself away from Peter. "Go to the bureau. I know you'd rather be there than with some dumb fuck who completely disregarded everything we were taught during college and at Quantico. Some top-class agent I am, huh? Bet you're wishing you'd never met me or asked to promote me past probie, aren't you?"

Peter shook his head and tried to kiss his husband, but Neal shoved him away. He didn't want to lose his husband over this, but Neal was very hostile and would be for a while. There was no way he'd stop Neal from leaving the FBI if that was what Neal wanted, but he didn't know how else Neal would get a job. Peter assumed that this case went on his record and he wasn't sure if that affected Neal Burke or Special Agent Neal Burke. "Damn it, Neal," he said brokenly.

"I don't even want to look at you right now for siding with them." He waved dismissively at Peter as he took his leave without giving Peter the opportunity to say anything else. Peter felt horrible for abandoning his husband, but the men who'd interrogated Neal knew that Neal acted wrongly and Peter knew that as well. Neal knew that.

He just hoped that the younger man calmed down and had a chance to think things over before doing something self-destructive.

•◊•

Neal threw his suit jacket onto the couch the moment he walked through the doorway to his home. "Emotionally invested," he muttered under his breath. "Go fuck yourself." He threw his empty Espresso across the room and just growled in fury, sitting on the coffee table with his head in his hands.

"Neal?"

"Yeah?" he said, trying to calm himself down. He wasn't doing a very good job of it and he'd frightened Neil.

Neil swallowed hard. "What's wrong?"

Neal shook his head. "Nothing. I just did some stupid things that got me into a lot of trouble. I'm quitting my job." Neil looked surprised when Neal lifted his head. "It's nothing you need to worry about, Neil. I just royally fu—" He cleared his throat. "I screwed up really badly and Peter agrees with them."

"Is it because of me?" Neal hesitated. He wasn't blaming Neil. It wasn't Neil's fault. It was his own fault for acting irrationally. "You can tell me. I heard you and Peter kinda arguing this morning before you left for work."

"It isn't because of you. I didn't act the way I was supposed to when I rescued you. There were things I should have done that I didn't do and things I did, but shouldn't have done. I'm a murderer according to them because I killed him without justification—whatever the fuck their definition of justification is in this instance."

Neil bit his lip. "If it's any consolation, Vincent had pictures." Neal's attention snapped directly to the teenager who was now standing in front of him. "He…said he was going to photoshop someone into them later. Now that I know your story, he was probably talking about you."

Neal waved it off, sighing. He shuddered at the thought that Vincent kept thinking about him for over twenty years. Neal never once loved that man and he wasn't sure if Vincent was capable of love after the way he'd treated his stepson and wife. "It's too late for me to do anything now. I don't have a badge for the next five weeks."

Neil gave the older man a bit of space, knowing Neal was in a terrible mood and definitely needed time alone. He felt so guilty, feeling like he'd just destroyed Neal's career. Neal was so good at it in his opinion and he worked hard for nothing.

The house was quiet since the babies were napping and Neil assumed Neal went to sleep as well. Sleeping was a decent escape from reality as far as Neil was concerned and he wouldn't be surprised if Neal thought it would work now. Neil felt like he needed to make up for messing up Neal's life, so he went upstairs to find the older man.

The teenager cautiously pushed Neal's bedroom door open to find Neal sleeping on his side on his bed. The intercom to the babies' room was on the mattress beside him and he was snoring quietly. "I'm so sorry," Neil whispered more to himself than to Neal. He felt disgusting, but decided he was going to go through with his apology. His apology wasn't going to be verbal and he sincerely hoped he'd make up for some of his guilty conscious and Neal's rage.

He crawled onto Neal's bed and stared at Neal's face, biting his lip. He was hesitating because he wasn't sure what was good for Neal. Instead of waking Neal up and getting caught by just sitting there, he decided to act. Neil gently rolled Neal onto his back and moved to straddle the older man's waist. He was trembling as he leaned forward and pressed frantic kisses against Neal's face, focusing more so on kissing Neal's lips.

Neal was too unaware to know what was going on and Neil hoped it stayed that way. He wanted to make Neal feel better physically. Neil slid his own shirt off and tossed it down onto the bed beside Neal before carefully lifting himself to slide his new jeans off. His underwear came next and tears slid down his cheeks as he fumbled to unbutton and unzip Neal's pants. He had no idea what Neal was wearing for underwear, but he didn't care. He moved the fabric aside and slid down Neal's leg a bit.

Neil briefly looked up at the sleeping man before pulling Neal's cock out of his lingerie. He started sucking on the older man vigorously, hoping he was making a difference even if it were just a dream to Neal. After a few moments, Neal moaned, "Peter…" He kept moaning his husband's name until his eyes slowly started to open. Neil was licking the slit of Neal's cock just as Neal looked down at him. It took Neal a moment to realize what was happening. "Holy fuck!" he cried, moving away from the teenager quickly. He rolled right off of the bed and was fixing his clothing in a frantic rush. He turned once his pants were readjusted and stared at the teen incredulously, "Why in the holy fuck were you just doing that?"

"I owed you since I ruined your job," Neil whispered.

Neal shook his head. "Get your damn clothes on. Holy shit, Neil." He rushed out of his own bedroom and only made it halfway down the stairway before he sank to the floor and covered his mouth in horror while tears streamed down his face. That was not something he ever wanted, willing or unwilling, and he had no idea why Neil felt compelled to make it up to him in that way.

He looked down at himself and was immediately repulsed. He'd just gotten a blowjob from a thirteen year old and he'd almost ejaculated only because he thought it was his husband. "Neal," Neil whispered a little ways behind the older man. "Are you okay?"

"Dear, God. What the hell makes you think I'm okay? I somehow managed to guilt you into giving me a God damn blowjob. That's like asking my son to blow me." He shuddered and tried to think about something else. "I can't stay here now. I can't live with this. I just raped you while I was sleeping."

Neil shook his head. "You didn't do anything. It isn't like you had sex with me."

"Oral sex is still sex," Neal said bitterly. "I'm a rapist," he said brokenly, covering his face with his hands. He was beginning to hyperventilate. All of this seemed and felt so wrong to him. Even now, he didn't want to make Neil finish what he'd started. Part of him questioned his own declaration that he was a rapist because he felt nothing but remorse for acting childish to make Neil feel guilty. He hadn't intended on making Neil feel that way and he honestly didn't even realize that he had. He didn't think he could ever ejaculate again after this because it would feel sick. "I'm so sorry, Neil," he said as he began to sob.

Neal got up suddenly and raced down the stairs, grabbing his phone. "What are you doing?"

"I'm reporting myself. I'm not going to—"

"No! Don't!" Neil pleaded. "Neal, please. You didn't do anything. You didn't even move subconsciously."

He lunged at Neal, grabbing the phone before Neal could make his call. "Neil, stop!"

"You stop!"

In the end, Neal's repulsion got the best of him and he let Neil win while he rushed into the kitchen to empty his stomach. He'd never wanted this to happen and it did. He just sat on the floor, holding his stomach with one arm while covering his mouth with his other hand. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. He hadn't known who to go to when he'd been raped as a teenager and he didn't know what to do now that he had raped a teenager. Neil didn't see it that way, but Neal did.

He had no idea how to even begin explaining this to his husband without Peter giving him such a look of disgust. Peter never looked at him that way before, but that was well before Neal had a teenager suck his dick.

•◊•

Peter went home around lunchtime to see if he could make amends with his husband. He'd been expecting things to be quiet, but he heard Neil sobbing upstairs. His brows furrowed and he began to wonder where his husband was. Neal's Corvette was in the driveway and he was always very attentive when it came to children. Peter knew he wouldn't neglect Neil and Neal had the twins here, too. He was responsible for all three of the kids since Mozzie left mere moments after Neal came home. "Neil?"

"Peter," Neil said, running out of the guestroom to meet Peter at the stairs. "You need to go in your room and see if he's okay. I'm afraid to go in." He started rubbing his eyes. "He's been in there for a long time.

His heart raced as he finished climbing the stairs and immediately ran into his bedroom. The genuine fear in Neil's eyes and voice scared the hell out of him. What the hell happened in the hour and a half Neal had been home alone?

He stared in horror as his eyes followed a trail of blood that started at the foot of their bed and continued into the bathroom. He felt sick and part of him was beginning to consider that Neal killed himself. His stomach wanted to lurch at the sight of the trail, but he heard a faint noise coming from their bathroom. If Neal killed himself, he hoped to God Neal hadn't hung or strangled himself in the bathroom. It was very possible and he didn't know if he could stomach that sight.

The moment he pushed the bathroom door open, he could hear Neal's quiet sobs. For a split second, he was relieved. Then he looked down at the floor and his heart ached. Neal was sitting in their bathtub, surrounded by his own blood. He held a razor in his right hand and began cutting into his hip. "Neal!" he pleaded, reaching over in an attempt to take the razor. Neal screeched at him as Peter removed the razor from his husband's hand. Peter threw the razor across the room and got into the bathtub with his husband.

Neal had reopened Craig's name on his thigh and added 'rapist' to his lower leg. He prayed that that wouldn't be embedded into Neal's skin and was relieved when he realized it wasn't deep enough to scar. "I raped him," Neal murmured repeatedly, sounding like he was stuck in a loop.

"Neal, you didn't rape anyone." Neil hadn't said anything about that. He was just concerned about Neal and he seemed too afraid to consider checking on the older man himself. Peter understood that part, but he didn't understand this.

Neal's eyes slowly moved to meet Peter's. "He was sucking my dick," he hissed. "I almost came in his fucking mouth, Peter."

Peter shivered at how hardened Neal's eyes were. "Who?"

"Neil." Peter stared at his husband in surprise. "I went to take a nap because I was pissed off with you and the bureau and the law and I was dreaming about you sucking on me. I thought you were doing it because it felt so damn real, so I managed to wake up and there he was. He was completely naked and sucking me. I raped him."

Peter shook his head. "Honey, no. You didn't rape him," Peter whispered. He looked down at his husband's naked body and panicked as blood began to soak through the knees of his own dress pants. "Jesus Christ. Neal, you're going to kill yourself." Neal nodded slowly and Peter was absolutely stunned. He stared at his husband incredulously and his heart felt like it was breaking. "Don't you dare leave me!" Peter whispered fiercely. "You promised me you wouldn't leave me alone, Neal."

Neal was shaking his head, sobbing simultaneously. "Please kill me," he pleaded. "I'm a monster."

The older man pulled Neal close, cradling his head. He kissed Neal's forehead as tears slid down his own face. "Neal, no. I need to get you to a hospital before you bleed out and die."

"I could have killed myself quickly," Neal said, gasping for breath. "I looked up where to cut to kill myself, but I deserve this. I need to suffer for what I did."

Peter tried begging Neal to calm down and he tried to persuade Neal to go to the hospital with him. As soon as he realized Neal passed out, he ran out and grabbed a blanket, heading back into the bathroom to wrap his husband up in it. "Neil, I'm taking him to the hospital. I'll call Mozzie from the car. Please, promise me you won't hurt yourself or leave."

Neil stared in horror at Neal's body. He couldn't see all of the damage, but seeing the blood on Neal's neck and face as well as Peter's clothing was enough.

Six hours after taking Neal to the hospital, Peter was let into Neal's room. They told him Neal was awake and asking for him. The long wait nearly gave him a stroke because he didn't know if he'd go in to find his husband in bandages or if he'd see him in a body bag. He hoped he'd never have to see the latter of the two. "Peter," Neal breathed when his husband came into the room.

"I'm so pissed at you right now," Peter said as another tidal wave of tears came over him. "How could you do this to yourself? To our family? To me?" He swallowed hard, staring at his husband angrily. He should have been happy to see Neal looking a hell of a lot better than he had looked earlier, but he wished he'd gone home to find his husband sitting on the couch or laying down in their bed angrily, not sitting in a pool of his own blood in their bathtub.

Neal nodded as Peter stopped a few feet away from the bed. "I overreacted," Neal whispered, "and I am so sorry. I'm not going to beg for your forgiveness because I don't deserve it." Peter glared as he rubbed his eyes. "Peter, try to imagine how I felt when I woke up to find Neil blowing me. After everything I've been through—everything he's been through, seeing him like that was wrong. It felt like you at first. When I opened my eyes…"

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. "So you tried to end your life?"

Neal gave him a pleading look. "You should understand," he whispered brokenly. "You know what I've endured. I was thirteen when Vincent coerced me into letting him fuck me. When he started forcing me to blow him, I hadn't wanted or liked it." He shuddered and tears pricked at his eyes. "Neil didn't like what he was doing, but he felt like he had to do it and that's the part that's killing me right now, Peter." Peter gave him a confused look. "I was so furious when I went home and he blamed himself. His guilt made him do what he did."

"You know how much I love you," Peter said angrily, "but I have never wanted to hit you until now. You're a God damn fool." Neal's eyes watered and he nodded. "You should have known you weren't at fault for what he did, yet you nearly killed yourself. What if I hadn't come home until later? I wouldn't have gone home for at least four more hours if I didn't stop by to have lunch with you."

The younger man breathed shakily. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know I'm stupid. I know what I did was wrong."

"And now you're under suicide watch for the remainder of this week." Neal gave him a stunned look. "I don't give a fuck if you don't like it. You're the love of my life and our children's daddy. How the hell could you, in your right mind, make such an impulsive decision to leave our three kids? Do you know how hard it would be to explain to them that you committed suicide? Do you know what they would think, Neal? They would blame themselves even though they never had the chance to get to know you." Neal was frightened the moment Peter surged forward and gripped the arm on the side of the bed tightly. Peter's knuckles were white and Neal was glad Peter wasn't touching him. "How could they believe that you loved them if you killed yourself? You'd abandon Nick and our babies, Neal. God damn you for being so inconsiderate of their feelings. Nick would be heartbroken and lost without you in his life, Neal. You're his father—his real father. The twins wouldn't have been able to spend time with you like Nick did. They'd look at him and see how destroyed he is and they'd wonder why he looked that way. Nick would feel like he was at fault. Even after all of these months, he still blames himself for what happened in that farmhouse when you were both taken away."

Neal was sobbing quietly as he stared at his husband. He heard and understood everything the older man said to him and he knew every word of it was true. "P-Peter," he whispered brokenly.

Peter shook his head and he looked like he wanted to grab Neal's throat and strangle him. Part of him felt like hitting Neal at least once, but his rational side realized that that was uncharacteristic of himself. He'd seen Neal at his best and his worst and he'd stayed with Neal all of this time, through everything. Despite being as angry as he is, he could never bring himself to hit Neal. Not even once. "And fuck you, Neal George, for promising me you wouldn't leave me. Doing this broke that promise."

Peter knew he was being brutal, but he was angry and hoped to God Neal was getting the point. Neal's hands shook as his right hand covered his left for a moment. Peter looked down to see Neal holding his wedding ring out for him to take. "I don't deserve you," Neal whispered, his lips trembling. "Leave me and take them. I don't deserve you or our kids. I'm such a bastard."

The older man sighed heavily and shook his head. He took Neal's wedding ring and then Neal's left hand. He slid the ring back onto Neal's finger and intertwined their fingers. "I am so pissed off and I'm going to be pissed off for a while, but I need you, Neal. Call me a fool for wanting you, but I want you. When you aren't like this, you're such a beautiful man." He saw the regret in Neal's eyes. "If you die, I'm nothing but a shell of myself. I can't live without you here, Neal. I can't father our kids alone. You are so much better at this parenting thing than I am."

"Obviously not," Neal said, gesturing at himself.

Peter shut his eyes tightly and kissed Neal's knuckles. "You are, Neal. I promise you we'll work through this. I'm not letting you leave us."

•◊•

Peter brought Neal, Nicky, and Neil home after spending a couple of hours at Neal's Net. The older man compromised with the doctors at the hospital and said Neal could be under suicide watch in their own home. Mozzie was the first to offer to watch him and Peter was grateful to the short man. Peter had no idea how Neal could be such a destroyed man who'd planned on committing suicide one moment and a man who guided children through their struggles after listening to them tell their whole story without interruption.

"Are you going to talk to me?" Neal whispered, looking at his husband after they'd gotten into their home. Peter hadn't said very much to Neal since getting him discharged. Nicky and Neil noticed the tension between them and Nicky caught Neal staying a distance away from Neil now.

"You gave me such a fantastic night for my birthday and for our anniversary not too long ago," Peter said quietly. "Were you putting on a show then and for the kids tonight?"

Neal's eyes widened and filled with pain. "No. I genuinely felt the way I did and acted like myself. I wouldn't lie to you, especially not on your birthday or our anniversary, and I wouldn't mislead the kids."

"Prove it to me then, Neal. Show me that you actually want to be here. Whether it's being here with me or with our kids, that doesn't matter. Just show me that you want to be alive."

The younger man nodded. "I will, Peter." He tentatively stepped closer to his husband, seeing the hostility in Peter's eyes. Shutting his own eyes, he took the last few steps and slid his arms around his husband's torso. "I have a very poor way of expressing my love for you," he whispered, "but I love you so much, Peter. I want to be here with you." He was relieved when Peter's arms enveloped him and Peter kissed his neck. "If not for you, I wouldn't have a home to call my own or a family to cherish. I'd have Nicky and Moz, but I'd have no one to love me the way you love me." He buried his face into the crook of Peter's neck and breathed heavily. "I meant it when I said I don't deserve you. I'm truly fortunate to have you, Peter Michael."

"Do you remember the vows we made to each other on our wedding day?" Neal nodded against Peter and Peter rested his hands on Neal's lower back. "I promised to protect and love you, Neal, and I intend on doing so even if I have to protect you from yourself. I promised you I'd faithfully stand at your side, Neal."

Neal nodded and breathed shakily as he said, "I promised I'd never leave your side." Peter kissed Neal's cheek, nuzzling their noses a moment later.

The two went upstairs and closed their bedroom door. Nicky was a little lost and Neil was a wreck that Nicky was trying to console. He wouldn't tell Nicky what was wrong, so Nicky tried to take his mind off of it. He knew his parents went upstairs, so he'd keep Neil away from them for a little bit because they seemed like they needed space.

Peter stared at his husband as Neal stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Peter had managed to clean up the bloodstains in their bedroom area, but he left the bathroom as it was so Neal could see the damage he'd done from Peter's perspective. "Neal," he said quietly.

He'd been hoping Neal might just clean it up instead of lingering on the sight of it. "Just…give me a minute," Neal whispered. Peter wasn't trying to torture his husband with this and he realized that he'd done just that. Neal's guilt was eating him alive like it always did when he angered or upset Peter.

Peter shook his head and crossed the room. He wrapped his arms around Neal and kissed the nape of his neck. "For as frustrating and concerning as our relationship is at times, I love you more than life," Peter told him.

"Sometimes, I really wish you didn't. Like right now. I'm looking at my own blood as it's drying or draining in the bathtub. The floor is a disaster and—oh, look. He moved away from Peter and found the razor he'd used, holding it up for Peter to see. "This is bloody and my skin is in the blade." He threw it into the garbage and sighed heavily. "Maybe we should just split up. I'm doing destructive things for destructive reasons and I can't live with myself knowing I'm dragging you and the kids down."

"Going it alone is more destructive than anything you could do here," Peter said fiercely. "I can come home to you and try to help you or take care of you. If you're alone, I can't—"

"We're both grown men," Neal snapped. "Looking at this mess makes me question myself. I truly believe I'm insane or on the brink of becoming insane. How the hell can anybody love me?" He slid his sleeves up his arms, looking at them critically. "I'm never going to be able to sleep beside you and feel comfortable in my skin because I'm constantly destroying it. Yeah, I know there are some scars that aren't my fault entirely, but these… These are self-inflicted. I can't walk around with my shirt off or with a short-sleeved shirt now because I don't want Nicky to know that I did this to myself."

Peter shook his head. "These will heal if you leave them alone," Peter said softly.

He unintentionally found himself staring at Neal's clothed thigh and Neal caught his gaze, following it to figure out what was on Peter's mind. "I'm branded with Craig's name, Peter. That's never going to go away. It's so painful even when it's healing. Now that I've reopened it, it'll hurt a hell of a lot more." Neal closed his eyes and Peter wanted nothing more than to cross the room and pull Neal into his arms tightly. "They both branded me. Craig's is physical and able to be seen. Vincent left scars that you can't see."

"Then let me leave my mark on you," Peter whispered. Neal opened his eyes and gave his husband a look of question. "We need something special that's us. I haven't thought about it much, but… Around my birthday, I considered going out to get a tattoo." Neal raised an eyebrow. He never thought he'd see the day where Peter Burke wanted a tattoo. "I want your name on my body. There's never going to be another man in my life if you leave me. You are the one I'm in love with and I'll always be in love with you." Neal was giving him such a sad look and it was hurting his heart to see that on the younger man's face. "No one is perfect, Neal. You have your own set of flaws—same as I do. What makes you perfect to me is that you accept them. You live with your flaws and I know you'll work to overcome and overwhelm them."

Neal shook his head. "Nothing—not a single thing—about me is perfect. My body is scarred, my mind is beyond fucked, and I'm not sure if I'm even meant to be this person. What if I'm not meant to be—?"

"I don't care," Peter said painfully. "You can think whatever you like and make yourself believe you're worth nothing. If you were worth nothing, why do I care so much about you? Why do I love you so much?" He moved towards the younger man and was surprised when Neal allowed him to caress his face. "You're my Neal," he whispered. "I'm happy with you." Neal started to mutter something about Peter having a distorted illusion of what happiness is and Peter silenced him. "If you look beyond moments where you've hurt yourself, where I've hurt you, or where you've hurt me, then you should see the moments where we express our love for each other openly. Neal, I see so much good in you. When you're with kids, you are the most caring man I have ever seen. You've always put their needs above yours."

"And look where that got me. I'm quitting my job because I'm such a 'good' person."

"No. You're quitting because you're an idiot," Peter said, sighing. Neal felt like he should be slightly offended by that, but Peter wasn't being bitter and he wasn't angry when he said it. "Neal, you're human. So you didn't follow protocol… Neal, you've changed a boy's life."

Neal shook his head. "Yeah and I got a free blowjob that I didn't even want out of it," he muttered. "I should just become a stay-at-home kind of dad and shut the world out."

Peter gripped Neal's shoulders firmly. "No. That's not the kind of man you are." Neal frowned. "I'm going to get you through this whether you want me to or not. I am not abandoning you—not even after everything I said to you at the hospital." Neal stared into his husband eyes, seeing the truth in his chocolaty orbs. "Your life is not set in stone. Don't damn yourself for things you did or didn't do. Please, help me help you." The younger man's eyes drifted away from his husband's for a moment. As soon as he focused on the older man again, he nodded. "You and I," he said, gesturing between the two of them, "will talk to Neil. We aren't going to let this fester because I know you'll bottle things up until you overflow. I don't know how he is, but I'd prefer not to find out. I want us to fix this."

"Nothing can fix this," Neal whispered.

"With that attitude, you're right," Peter snapped. Neal seemed to shrink into himself and Peter sighed. "I know you're not the kind of man to just give up when things get rough. Honey, you've pulled through so much. I'm pretty sure we can handle talking to a teenager." He rubbed Neal's shoulders, staring into his husband's pained eyes. "Stop doubting yourself and everything around you," Peter begged him. "I am in love with you and I always will be. You are a strong man. You are a sweetheart. If you can't believe me when I say those things, I'm going to show you that I'm right."

Neal tentatively rested his hands on his husband's hips. "Okay," he whispered, keeping his eyes locked onto his husband's. Peter gently pressed his forehead against Neal's and closed his eyes. He slid his arms around Neal's neck, holding him like this for a change. "I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong—and not just today," he added softly. "I know I can do better than this and I'm going to try."

"For me or for yourself?" Peter asked. That was a critical question. If Neal answered that it was for Peter, Peter may actually smack Neal upside the head and walk away from him. If Neal said he was doing this for himself, Peter would be proud of him and he'd encourage it.

"Myself," Neal said warily. Peter pecked Neal's lips and nodded. "Thank you, Peter, for staying with me. I know I've put you through—still am putting you through hell, but it means so much to me that you're that in love with me."

Peter smiled a little. "Neal, I'll never call a moment I've spent with you 'hell.' I have voluntarily spent time with you for the past five years and I want to spend so many more years with you." Neal hugged Peter, holding onto him tightly. It didn't matter that his body was in pain because he'd done it to himself. He'd hurt Peter a lot more than himself and he owed Peter so very much. He breathed heavily as he kissed Peter's jaw. He knew he really fucked up and he planned on fixing this and his work situation.