Neal was screaming at the top of his lungs, sounding as though he was being strangled or killed. Either way, it wasn't pleasant. Peter ran down hallway after hallway, trying to find him to no avail. He didn't understand. The screams were nearby, but he couldn't find the room holding Neal. "Peter!" he screamed in agony, pleading for his lover to help him. Peter never heard him sound quite like that before and it made his heart clench.

He started banging on doors, pushing them open if they weren't locked. He just couldn't find the damn room and it was starting to frustrate him. How couldn't he find it? Why was this hallway filled with so many doorways if they all led to nothing? Neal was sobbing and then he heard a sharp slap, which made Neal whimper. "Shut up," a man hissed. "Fucking whore. You should've learned by now that I don't want you to speak."

Craig. It was Craig and he had Neal. He was torturing Neal. "Please…" he begged, breathing raggedly. "Please, stop..."

He could hear what Craig was doing to Neal and heard Neal's cries of pain and discomfort. "You said you'd do anything for your man, sweetheart. Should I go get him instead?"

Neal choked out another sob. "No."

"Then shut the fuck up." He heard another slap, followed by a hiss from Neal. A few moments later, it sounded like Neal was being suffocated and Craig was laughing at him. Craig was taking pleasure in hearing Neal struggle, in seeing his will break. Peter was left wondering where Neal could be and why he just couldn't find him. "Oh, Vince was so damn lucky when he got you before. This will give me something to tell him about the next time I visit him."

The younger man grunted in pain and Peter could imagine the look on his face, the tears falling onto the mattress beneath him. "Peter… H-He'll… He'll save me…"

Craig laughed louder and Neal started choking again, telling him that his hopes would only disappoint him. Peter's heart leapt into his throat and he started racing down the hallway again. "Neal, I'm coming!" he shouted, hoping he could get some kind of response. He was only able to hear the sounds of Craig's sexual assault on Neal as well as how Craig was verbally abusing him. He didn't seem to hear Peter, which was troubling. Had he given up? "Hon, I'm coming!"

By the time he'd reached the very end of the hallway, he heard Craig's sigh of relief. He couldn't hear Neal anymore though. "Pity," Craig muttered. A thud followed that single word and then the door suddenly opened.

Craig was nowhere to be seen, but Neal was lying in the corner of the room on a mattress, motionless. Peter didn't pause to wonder where Craig had gone. He darted across the room and fell to his knees beside Neal's body. His shoulders and chest weren't moving. Peter put his hand in front of Neal's face, waiting for him to breathe and receiving no indication of it. "No," Peter pleaded. "Please, no… Neal, honey, wake up." He tried to gently shake Neal, hoping that Neal was just exhausted, but something inside of him told him he was too late this time. He laid Neal on his back and Peter's heart stopped when he saw the mess of blood all over Neal's face. "Neal," he whispered, reaching out to stroke Neal's blood-soaked hair. "Hon, wake up. I'm begging you," he pleaded. He slid his hand down to Neal's chest, resting it above his heart. There was no heartbeat. "Neal!"

"Peter?" Peter's eyes snapped open and he gasped, pushing himself up and nearly head butting Neal in the process. "Whoa," he said quietly, hands in front of him. "You okay?" Peter was staring at him like he'd grown an extra limb and it was making him uncomfortable. He looked himself over and didn't find anything particularly revolting, unless Peter was finally starting to see him as an item rather than a person, which is what he was always expecting. He knew Peter wouldn't think that, but he felt like he'd lose Peter because Peter is the one good thing he's had in his life since Nicky. He wiped the sweat on Peter's face and neck off with his hand, his eyes locked onto Peter's. "Babe, you yelled for me. Are you all right?"

The older man looked around the room, realizing he was in their apartment. He could hear his parents, El and Di, Nicky, and Mike downstairs. When his eyes were locked onto Neal again, he leaned forward to kiss Neal quickly, pulling back a moment later to look the young man over. "You aren't…hurt?" he asked quietly.

Neal shook his head, his brows furrowing. "No. I'm just fine. I was getting stuff for dinner out in the kitchen while you were sleeping." Peter's hand rested on the spot between Neal's neck and shoulder. The more Neal looked at him, the more he wondered why Peter looked like he'd just run a marathon with some kind of monster chasing after him. "Peter, what's going on?"

"Bad dream," Peter whispered, shaking his head. He swung his legs over the side of the couch and Neal's eyes followed him, concerned. "It was about you," he answered.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked gently.

Peter shook his head. "It's not something I want you to worry about, hon. As long as you're okay, that's all that matters." Neal nodded, scooting to maneuver himself in between Peter's bent legs. He rested his arms on Peter's thighs and kissed Peter's jaw, closing his eyes. Peter smiled weakly, his frantic heart relaxing now that he could see his Neal—alive. He slid his hands up to caress Neal's cheeks while they kissed. He could smell the sweet scent of his lover's soap and aftershave. This close, it was beginning to arouse him, which he found very unwarranted and impolite considering he'd just dreamt about something very disturbing regarding his lover. When they parted for breath, Neal leaned forward, leaning into Peter's chest. "You know how much I love you, right?" Peter whispered.

Neal laughed lightly. "As much as I love you."

Peter nodded, gently prying Neal off of him to straighten the younger man so he could look at him. He stared into Neal's beautiful, blue eyes and found affection and a deep pain that nearly went unnoticed by Peter. "I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where," he said quietly. "I love you simply, without problems or pride." He lifted his hands to stroke Neal's cheeks with his thumbs, making damn sure that Neal wasn't looking away from him for even a split second. "I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand…" He paused for a moment, watching Neal's lips twitch as they curved into a smile, his eyes flashing with silent appreciation. "So intimate that when I fall asleep, your eyes close."

He kissed Peter and whispered, "Pablo Neruda," against his lips. He breathed quietly, resting his forehead against Peter's. "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."

"Paul McCartney," Peter mumbled after a moment. "It's pretty enlightening, you know, to finally understand your little quote game with Moz and be able to use it to tell you I love you in ways I can't possibly express in my own words."

Neal smiled softly, taking Peter's hands in his own. "No quote will ever be able to express that kind of love you feel unless it's a Peter Burke original."

Peter chuckled. "Well, Peter Burke needs to learn how to speak to impress his boyfriend, doesn't he?"

The younger man rolled his eyes as he let go of Peter's hands and used Peter's knees to push himself up from the floor. "Nah," he said as he was brushing off his own knees. "I find that I like hearing a simple 'I love you, Neal' over any eloquent quote you could find online."

Peter rose from the couch, resting his hands on Neal's hips. "Well, since that's the case," he whispered, pecking Neal's lips gently, "then: I love you, Neal."

Neal chuckled, wrapping his arms around Peter's neck. "I love you, Peter."

"Awe, how adorable!" Both men jumped when they saw Elizabeth in the doorway to the apartment. "Oh, don't stop on my behalf. Watching you two has been extremely sweet and enlightening."

Peter glared noncommittally at her. "Voyeur," he muttered.

"Please, feel free to go about your business as though I'm not here. In other words, I wouldn't mind if you two had sex right there on the couch," she teased. Neal blushed and Peter sighed. "Seriously though. You boys are too damn cute for your own good."

"Glad you approve," Peter said wryly. "Don't you have a girlfriend to make out with instead of harassing me and my boyfriend?"

She stared at him in with mock hurt on her face. "Oh, Peter, I didn't think you'd mind me watching you two fuck each other with your eyes."

"It's a wonderful talent of his," Neal said quietly, ducking his head when Peter looked at him, stunned.

"Oh, don't you start, too," Peter grumbled, tugging Neal closer to him. Neal smiled, hugging Peter. El giggled. "So what did you come up for, El?"

She rolled her eyes. "I can't come up to watch you two?" Peter did glare at her this time. "Fine, fine. Hannah wanted me to ask Neal when he'd be starting preparations for dinner because she wants to help."

Peter looked down at Neal, his heart skipping a beat when he saw unmistakable happiness in Neal's expression. "Tell her I'll get started in a few minutes, whenever she wants to come back up." She went downstairs to relay the message to Peter's mother and allowed the two men in the apartment to pass along more whispers of endearment to one another. Once Hannah came upstairs, the whole crowd seemed to follow. Peter gave Neal another kiss before Neal went back to the kitchen to work on dinner with his mother.

Peter went out onto the balcony to sit with Elizabeth and Mozzie a short while later. Almost everyone was in the apartment, either helping Neal with dinner or occupying Nicky. He'd offered to help Neal, but his mom was adamant in saying she would do the honors, so Peter took El and Moz out. The three of them discussed Neal and Fowler for a little while. "Do you have any idea how to…talk to him about this?" El asked, genuinely concerned. She was afraid for Neal, wishing she could help him in some way.

He shook his head. "I don't. I can't predict how he'll react when I tell him and I don't know how to say it politely—I'm very good at being blunt, but sometimes blunt isn't what he needs." He sighed, resting his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers in front of his bowed head. "Every time I think about this, I wonder why Fowler did this to him. I know he thinks Neal used him, but Neal didn't. I can't imagine myself looking for a rapist to…to fucking destroy him in order to get revenge if he'd used me for any reason at all." He shuddered, his thoughts flashing back to when he'd found Neal in the warehouse after everything Craig did to him.

"You aren't that kind of man," Elizabeth said gently. "You're a sweetheart. Even if he did something terrible, you'd still love him." Peter nodded slowly, lifting his head to look at Elizabeth. "I also know Neal isn't a user. He's been used, so he knows how that feels. If I know him as well as I think I do, he wouldn't want anyone else to feel the way he did."

Again, Peter nodded. "He's told me that on numerous occasions. He never wants anyone else to know how it feels to be…hurt the way he was. It's why he was falling to pieces when Nicky was kidnapped. He'd been tormented physically and emotionally by the man for a few years and then his past followed him for twenty years, nearly drowning him." Peter shook his head, closing his eyes. "He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to feel like he's ruined. It's so hard to make love to him when he's remembering how it felt to have another man destroy his insides." Elizabeth's eyes were watering and Mozzie was blinking rapidly, avoiding eye contact with either of them. "I have to tell him he's perfect to me and that I'll always love him unconditionally every day. It hurts to watch him suffer in silence when he doesn't want to 'bother' me." He sighed heavily. "He doesn't understand that I want to be with him sometimes. He thinks I feel like I'm obligated to be with him because I pity him."

"He's said that?" El asked, horrified.

"Yes. Too many times for my liking." He opened his eyes and looked at his ex-wife. "I wish he could have a perfectly normal life to live—happiness that wasn't tainted when he was young. He'll never know how it feels to be absolutely normal because he'll never believe me when I tell him he's not some abhorrent creature."

Mozzie swallowed a lump in his throat, his voice sounding hoarse when he spoke. "I agree with you, Suit. I wish things were different for him. He's never wanted to hurt anyone, so he doesn't deserve to be hurt." Peter looked away from El to peer into the apartment, watching Neal interact with his parents, watching Neal smile easily and converse with them. "He believes in God and assumes there's a reason he was meant to be hurt this way," Mozzie muttered, sounding irritated. "I, however, don't share his views and I stand by my firm belief that he never did anything to deserve this." Mozzie crossed his arms over his chest. "That's started a fight or two in recent months."

Peter nodded, remembering Neal telling him in tears that he and Mozzie argued, that he was afraid he'd lose Mozzie. "We need to protect him," he said with an air of finality. "I don't care how we do it. He can't be allowed to hurt like this anymore. Once was hard enough for him to live with. Twice could have put him six feet under." He shuddered as he considered his next words. "Three times could be his end."

The short man slammed his hand down on the table and quietly growled, "I will give my life to keep this from happening to him again."

Peter glanced into the apartment again, finding Neal's concerned eyes on the three of them. He shook his head and silently tried to tell Neal everything was fine. Neal reluctantly nodded, turning back to working on dinner. "I love him and I'm proud of him, but I'm not going to lie and say I'm not afraid that I'll wake up one day to find him hanging from the bar above the bathtub." El's breath hitched and Mozzie understood how Peter felt. "I've thought about it a lot. I've walked through the apartment in the middle of the night when I haven't been able to sleep and I find numerous ways he could end his life, numerous ways I could find him too late."

"He won't do that to you," Elizabeth whispered, rubbing her eyes. "We all know he's considered killing himself and he nearly did a few months ago, but he's getting better, honey." Peter nodded slowly, agreeing with her. "He has all of us here for him and I desperately hope and pray that that's enough for him to be willing to live through this."

"I've often wondered what would've happened to him if we hadn't gotten together. If Adler came back and tried to destroy him, would he have come to me for help in rescuing Nicky or would that bastard have killed Nicky and taken Neal?" Mozzie frowned. "I feel like he might be living his life only knowing how it feels to be raped day in and day out if he hadn't let me into his life."

Mozzie's façade crumbled then and he had to rub his own eyes. "Why do you think I thank you for being here for him, Suit?" he muttered. Peter's lips parted when he looked at Neal's best friend. "He wouldn't have asked me to help him. He would have allowed Adler to take him, even if Nicky had been killed. He'd feel like his life wasn't worth living and he'd eventually escape the constant abuse by doing something to get himself killed—either by suicidal means or by pissing Adler off to the point where he didn't want Neal anymore."

Elizabeth took both men's hands and squeezed them, struggling to keep herself from crying. "We all have to make him feel loved, boys. If we need to tell him we love him every day to keep him alive, then so be it. He deserves to know how it feels to be loved—either intimately by you, Peter, or in a familial way by the rest of us. He deserves all of that and more."

Peter gestured for them to hush without Neal seeing as the younger man came out onto the balcony. "Dinner's ready," he said quietly, staring at Peter. Peter knew he had the feeling they were talking about him. They all rose from the table. Mozzie went inside first, giving Neal a quick smile. Elizabeth kissed his cheek. Peter, however, stood in front of him. He held Neal's hips and stared down at Neal's face lovingly. "What's wrong now? Is it something I did?"

"Nothing's wrong, hon," Peter said reassuringly. "We were…discussing things we're thankful for," he said, covering up quite well in his opinion. Neal nodded slowly. "I'm thankful for you," he whispered, kissing Neal sweetly for several, long moments. When they parted, his lips were close enough for him to breathe on Neal. "Thankful for every day I have with you, Neal," he added.

Neal pecked Peter's lips. "I can't tell you how thankful I am to wake up every morning and go to bed every night beside you."

Peter rubbed Neal's hips slowly. "That'll never change," he said sincerely. He paused, listening to Neal's breathing. "I don't think I could live if I didn't wake up to your sexy snores," he teased. Neal smacked his chest and backed up to roll his eyes. Peter chuckled when Neal took his hand and led him back into the apartment. "We still have people showing up?" he asked, glancing at three empty spots.

Neal nodded. "Yes. Ellen will be here kind of late. The Marshals aren't letting her out of their sight a little longer. My…mother will arrive shortly with whatever asshole she's decided to ruin her life with this time." Peter sat at the head of the table, holding Neal's left hand as Neal took his seat off to the right. Nicky sat across from him and beside Elizabeth.

"We'll make it through dinner. She's sitting away from you. Dad will kick her out if she starts anything," Peter promised quietly. He lifted Neal's hand, kissing his knuckles. "Do you want to start off dinner with a prayer?" He was a lapsed Catholic, but Neal wasn't. He wasn't a religious fanatic either, but he still believed.

Neal cleared his throat, asking everyone to join hands with the people beside them. He held Peter and Hannah's hands as he bowed his head and began saying grace. He started out by thanking God for the wonderful food in which they were given, continued by thanking God for creating each and every person in this room with him today, and ended with thanking God for the lives they were allowed to live. Once he was finished, they all started dishing out their own dinner. Neal waited patiently for Peter to get himself food first, feeling like it was right to wait for Peter. He'd get Nicky's food afterwards, then his own. He watched the food circulate around the table and was slightly surprised to see Peter getting Nicky's food.

He remembered how awkward Peter had been during their first Thanksgiving. It'd just been the three of them and Mozzie. "Thank you," Neal whispered once Nicky was served. Peter gave him a sweet smile and surprised Neal further by grabbing his plate and getting food for him. He asked Neal if he wanted more and got everything Neal wanted to eat before setting the plate down in front of him. He couldn't stop smiling at his partner, even as he began to eat. Peter struggled to eat left-handedly so he could hold Neal's hand while they ate.

After Neal finished his mashed potatoes, someone knocked on the door. He excused himself and pushed his chair back, heading over to the door. When he opened the door, he couldn't hide his grimace. "Hi, sweetie." He nodded and motioned for her to come in. A man about Neal's height came in with her, his hair graying and his expression making him seem very cautious for no apparent reason. "This is…James," she said quietly, introducing them to each other. "James, this is Neal."

James smiled at Neal and it made his stomach churn. He had a sudden feeling, telling him something was really off. Almost as if by some sort of mind-link, Peter was at his side, resting a hand on the small of Neal's back. "Nice to meet you," he said quietly. He looked up at Peter. "This is my boyfriend, Peter. Peter, this is James. He's my mother's…" He trailed off, unable to explain the relationship between the two because he honestly had no idea what they were to each other.

"James Bennett," he said, holding out a hand towards Peter. Peter instantly recognized the name and went into defensive mode. "I'm Neal's father."

Neal's eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise. He was seemingly frozen with Peter's arm sliding around his waist to pull him closer, almost as if he were planning on drawing Neal into himself to protect the younger man. James lowered his outstretched hand, looking concernedly at his son. In an instant, Jon was on Neal's other side. He, being part of the NYPD at one point in his life, knew the police department in DC very well. He also recognized James Bennett and was absolutely aware of what James had been arrested for. He knew Neal was also a runaway and that his surname at birth was Bennett, but he hadn't thought there was a connection between the two of them. Neal backed off, letting Peter stay as close as Peter wanted. "James Bennett," Jon said. "You're a fugitive."

Neal turned to Peter and Peter gave him his absolute attention, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what was going through Neal's mind at that moment. "I need to call Ellen," he said, his voice barely a whisper. Peter didn't understand that, but nodded. Neal pulled his phone out of his pocket and darted towards the hallway leading to the bathroom.

James' eyes followed his son until he was out of sight, then he focused on Jon. "You know me, but I don't know you."

"Officer Jonathan Burke," he answered. "Former NYPD. Your case file came up here and we were on alert." He remembered that that was a very, very long time ago. "Neal was, what, three when you abandoned him because you murdered your superior officer?"

"Dad," Peter warned.

James nodded. "Yes. He was. I couldn't find him and Maryann because they were buried in WitSec so deeply that I found no trace of them." He sighed, meeting Jon's eyes. "I didn't want to abandon him. I tried to find him for a long time. I looked for him in DC. As I said, no trace of him."

Jon wasn't happy with that. "You cost him thirty years of his life without a proper father figure, and for what?"

Another knock hit the door, softer than it had been when James and Maryann arrived. Peter looked cautiously between his father and James before heading over to the door. He barely opened it and whispered, "Ellen?" She looked confused, but nodded. Peter opened and closed the door quickly, slipping into the hallway with her. "Neal was trying to call you. I'm assuming that you didn't get it because you're here."

"Is he all right?"

"His father is here. I'm not sure why he's so—"

Ellen's eyes widened. "James is here?" Peter nodded silently, hoping Ellen would explain the situation to him. "He was my former partner in DC. I arrested him and I worked on the case to…clear his name, as he assumed."

"Is being around him going to complicate things?"

Ellen looked adamant when she deflected and said, "I'm going to protect my boy even if James is here." The two of them entered the apartment just as Neal was returning to the main room. He saw Ellen and his face went from moderate fear to absolute panic. James turned and his eyes locked onto Ellen. Peter watched Neal, waiting for the moment to arise where Neal would run. Something was going on and Peter was afraid for his lover. Neal hadn't moved until Ellen started taking steps towards him. He moved then and Ellen pulled him into an embrace. Peter saw how unguarded and painful Neal's expression was as he held onto the woman he'd deemed his mom. "It's okay, Neal. I'm here, sweetheart."

He shuddered against the older woman until James said, "Ellen." Neal's head snapped up and he looked so vulnerable, so uncertain. "It's been a long time."

"Yes, it has been," she said, sounding almost bitter and resentful. Ellen gave Maryann a full on glare. "You should have known better than to bring him here. I expected more from you, Maryann."

James stepped towards her and Neal. She backed up with him, holding him close. "I came to see my son," he said unprecedentedly. "I haven't gotten to know him. I've not seen him since he was three, Ellen. I want to—"

"Because of you, Neal carries many scars. He's better off without you." Peter could tell that she cared about James, but she definitely made it clear that she didn't want him anywhere near Neal, which he now understood as a result of her statement. She was blaming him for the terrible things that happened to Neal. "If you wanted to be in his life, you would have been more conscientious about your actions. You would have taken his future into consideration. He hasn't had a father since that day—until Peter's father accepted him."

James turned to look at Jon. "He's as much my son as Peter is now." Peter crossed the room to stand closer to Neal, realizing that everyone at the table, including Nicky, was watching them. "Now, how about you take your leave and let us enjoy Thanksgiving as a family?"

"He's my son."

"Please leave," Neal said quietly. Peter reached over to take Neal's hand. Neal's grip on his hand tightened almost immediately. It was so sudden that it shocked Peter for a moment. James looked at Neal, his eyes watering. "I know you're a murderer," Neal whispered. "I don't want you here. Not right now. Not when my family is here for you to target."

Peter wasn't surprised that Neal's voice shook as he spoke. "Neal…"

"James, you can either leave on your own free will or I can forcibly remove you from the vicinity," Jon threatened. "It's your choice." He would go through with that threat, too. James seemed to get that just from the look in Jon's eyes.

Neal's father frowned, looking at his son. Ellen was as protective of Neal as the rest of the people in their circle of family were. They'd all defend Neal if it came down to that. Michael rose from his seat and Neal motioned for him to sit down. He didn't need Michael getting all fired up about this, too. "Can I get to know you someday, Neal?" Neal looked away from him and muttered 'maybe.' James figured it was better than a definite no, so he accepted that. He tried to step towards Neal, hoping that he could embrace his son once before having to leave him again, but Neal cringed and took a few steps back. James didn't understand what was wrong with Neal. He was beginning to blame himself for it though, but something deep down inside of himself told him that Neal had never really been his son. Not after thirty years of being kept apart anyway. This was his biological son, but he had no idea what kind of man Neal was. "Have a wonderful Thanksgiving," James said quietly, nodding at Neal. "I'll…see you soon, son."

Neal didn't respond—not even with a nod. He waited for James to leave the room and then his gaze fell upon his mother's pain stricken face. "Neal—"

"This is just an additional reason that you've lost me," Neal said, no emotion in his voice. "Please, leave. I want to have a nice holiday with the people I love." She opened her mouth to say something and Neal shook his head. "Just…go." Ellen rested a hand on Neal's shoulder, waiting for Maryann to leave.

"Neal…" Ellen whispered once Maryann was gone, trailing after James. He shook his head and walked back over to the table. Hannah was quick to give him comfort, intertwining their fingers.

Neal closed his eyes and sat in silence for a moment, feeling embarrassed and knowing all eyes were on him. He sighed and opened his eyes, looking at each person in the room. "Everything's fine," he said, trying to reassure himself more so than the rest of the room. "Let's all just…" Peter came to sit down beside him again after showing Ellen to her seat. Neal looked at Peter sadly.

Peter reached over to stroke Neal's knuckles. "We're your family," he said quietly, "so let's be family. Forget about them, okay, hon?" Neal nodded silently. "Let's have a good Thanksgiving." Everyone else gave their quiet sounds of agreement before returning to eating their dinner. Neal sat in silence, staring at his plate for a little while until Peter actually picked up Neal's fork and attempted to make him eat. Neal glared at him for a brief moment and then his eyes softened when he realized Peter was trying to bring him back to reality. He looked around the table, considering the relationship he had with each individual before his eyes returned to Peter's and he nodded. Peter smiled once Neal began to eat again. For the duration of the night, everything else was calm.