Chapter Thirty-Five: Finally a Family

For the first time in Neal's life, he felt like he belonged somewhere. Like he was wanted, and dare he say the word, loved. Feeling Elizabeth's warm arm around his shoulder, the softness in her voice, and the meaning behind her words, "We're a family. Let's start acting like one," stirred Neal's emotions deep within his heart.

He suddenly had a flashback to several months earlier. Sitting on the sofa in his living room, holding that old worn-out photo album, the one that held secrets he never imagined would impact his life so drastically. He recalled his thoughts and his feelings as he held that album. He was lost, alone and his thoughts of his ghost family haunted him in his sleep. But now he was in an entirely new situation. He was surrounded by family, his family. He was no longer alone; now he suddenly had more people in his life that cared about him than he could ever have dreamed about.

He smiled and looked over at Elizabeth. He took his arm and wrapped it around her and turned into her embrace. His head dropped into her shoulder and his emotions filled his eyes with tears. Tears of joy and happiness. Relief and new discovery of himself.

Elizabeth was caught off-guard as he made the sudden movement. She hesitated for a second, but the hesitation was not from feeling uncomfortable by his actions, but rather from the surprise that he was allowing them all to see a more vulnerable side to him. It was refreshing to see a true Neal and not just the disguise he had become so comfortable with wearing. The past few days they had actually seen glimpses of this side of Neal, but now they were seeing one hundred percent raw unfiltered Neal Caffrey.

Peter began to smile as he watched Elizabeth react. Slowly she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. A gentle smile settled across her lips and she tilted her head in close to Neal's ear and softly whispered, "You're home, Neal."

She could feel Neal smile even with his face buried in her shoulder; he was home, and that was the first time in his entire life: what he wanted to be home, and what actually was home were the same.

Peter walked over and patted Neal on the back. "I think Elizabeth is right; we are a family and we should start acting like one."

Neal pulled away from Elizabeth and smiled at her as he distanced himself from her. He turned to face Peter and his smile grew larger. He liked hearing that; he wanted nothing more than to be treated like part of the family. "I'd like that."

Peter reached up and squeezed Neal's shoulder. "I'm glad to hear that." He glanced over his shoulder at his father and smiled. "Dad, what normally happens in a family when one of the kids does something stupid and puts themselves and others in danger?"

Neal's smile began to fade. He looked from Peter back to John.

John crossed his arms over his chest and took in a deep breath. "Well, when you did something wrong I always punished you by having you do work around the farm."

"That sounds like a good punishment to me." Peter looked back at Neal and smiled.

Neal furrowed his brow. "How about you just do what you normally do when I screw up, paperwork on mortgage fraud." Neal attempted his charming smile again.

Peter nodded his head. "Oh, trust me, you'll be doing plenty of that. See, now I get to discipline you as your boss and as your older brother. So next time you get a bright idea, remember that." Peter patted Neal on the side of the face.

John reached out and gripped Neal by the arm. "Come with me." He pulled Neal along as he walked out the front door.

Peter smile and looked at Mozzie. "Come on, Mozz. You're involved in this just as much as Neal is. So whatever he does, you do."

"Uh, I think not, Suit. I will be headed home now."

"Mozzie, you either get out there and stand by your friend. Or I look a little further into those stolen idols I know a certain someone knows more than they are letting on." Peter winked at Mozzie.

Mozzie stood to his feet, mumbling under his breath as he walked out the door following behind John and Neal.

Peter laughed and also headed out to follow behind them. He himself was curious as to what John was planning.

They walked past the barn behind the house and stopped at a clearing. John finally released Neal's arm, standing him directly in front of a wooden stump from a fallen tree. Neal looked at the tree stump and then back at John. Mozzie walked up and stood beside Neal. Peter approached from behind.

John walked to the edge of the barn where four axes leaned up against the barn wall. He retrieved two and walked back to Neal and Mozzie. He handed each of them and axe. "You're going to chop that entire stack of wood." He pointed to a five-foot wide by six-foot tall pile of tree logs.

Peter walked up and slapped Neal on the back. "Start chopping."

Neal frowned and looked from John to Peter. "You're kidding, right?"

"Not even a little." Peter smiled. "This is how it's going to be from now on. Because we're a family, we look out for each other, and we kick each other's butt when we screw up."

Neal smiled. "Does that include when you screw up?"

"Nope."

"I don't exactly like those rules." Neal frowned.

Peter chuckled. "Well, that's just not the way it works, kid."

"Oh really, and who decides the way it works?" Neal dropped the axe to the ground as if he were protesting the demands made upon him.

John reached down and picked the axe up again. He handed it to Neal. "Life does, son. Life does. Now start chopping." He smiled as Neal took the axe from his hand.

Peter slapped Neal on the back. "You're not getting off the hook anymore. From now on, you screw up, you pay the price. Got it?"

Neal reluctantly smiled then glanced back at the large stack of wood that he was about to start chopping. "Yeah. I got it."

"Good. We are leaving to go home in the morning so get this done ASAP. Tonight we're going to play some old fashioned family games before we leave."

Neal raised his eyebrows. He had never played any type of outside of chess or scrable. The thought of a family game intrigued him. He smiled at Peter. "I'll do my best."

Peter and John headed back to the house, leaving Neal and Mozzie alone.

Mozzie picked up the first log and sat it down on the tree stump. He took a step back and looked at the lone piece of wood waiting for its fate. "This is ludicrous, Neal! I'm telling you, you're better off to just cut the anklet and run. I mean how can you be satisfied with this? You've given up your freedom. It was bad enough when he was your handler alone, but this? It's madness."

Neal frowned listening to his friend express his viewpoint on the situation. At one time he would have agreed with him. There was a time he answered to no one; he had complete freedom to do as he pleased, to ask permission from no one. But that was also the time he'd felt isolated. He had traveled to the busiest and most exotic places in the world, he had been surrounded by people and beautiful things, yet the one thing he wanted more than anything was happiness. And happiness was one thing you could not steal, you could not buy. No, happiness had to be earned, it had to be deserved. No amount of money in the world could gain you happiness.

Mozzie was wrong. Peter may come down hard on him often, but those were the times that Neal knew Peter cared. Peter did not want Neal to be carted off to prison again; he did not want him to be injured or killed. Why? It was the same reason Neal felt so angry at Greg for endangering Peter. Because they were family, because Neal cared for Peter, no, he loved his brother; he would be lost without him. Neal smiled. He shifted the axe from his left hand to his right. He slung the axe over his shoulder and biceps flexed as he began swinging the axe towards the log resting on the tree stump. The sharp blade sliced through the wood like a knife slicing through a stick of butter.

Neal stood erect and smiled as he looked back at Mozzie. "Mozzie, the only time in my life I have had to answer for my actions was when the law caught up with me. Sending me to jail was to protect others; it was not for my own good. But with Peter …" Neal paused and looked at the ground as he continued, "… and John, they make me answer for my actions for my own good. Because they want me to be better, not because I wreak havoc on others." He took in deep breath. "So you're asking me why I don't run. The truth is I have been running, Mozzie. I've been running from everything that matters. I'm done running. I am finally where I want to be. So if that means John and Peter want me to chop wood to teach me a lesson that will benefit me, then I'm happy to learn that lesson and chop this wood. Because no one has ever cared enough about me to do something like this."

Mozzie smiled and looked back at the log that was now split in two. "'Man is free at the moment he chooses to be free.' I guess you have finally found your freedom, Neal."

Neal proudly smiled. He looked back at the house then his eyes trailed around the farm. It was as if he were looking for the first time outside of the bars of his mental and emotional prison. He blinked as he took it all in. "I have."

From inside the house John and Peter stood looking out of the kitchen window. They could see Neal and Mozzie in the far distance chopping the wood. John placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "He's a good kid, Peter. And I am sorry that I took matters into my own hands. I should have called you and the police. But in that moment I felt like I was protecting my own son, so my common sense went out the door."

Peter smiled. "I'm glad you've accepted Neal, Dad. He never had a father; he could really use one. And if you could fill those shoes, it's one less role I have to worry about."

John chuckled. "I'd be proud to call him my son, Peter. Just like you are proud to call him your brother. But I'm not so sure that Mozzie character is a good influence on him. He worries me."

Peter chuckled and glanced down at the floor. "Oh, Dad, you have no idea. I keep my eye on him. But he is a good friend to Neal, and really his only friend. Neal needs a friend. I think Neal has proved himself enough for me to trust. At least for the most part. Sometimes he does make me worry."

"Just remember what chopping the wood actually does for you."

Peter grinned as he recalled the numerous times he himself was forced to do the manual labor due to his own poor choices when he was younger. "Yeah, it gives you the chance to think about what really matters. It teaches discipline and it builds character."

"Give it a chance to work, son. It did for you." John squeezed Peter's shoulder as he turned to leave.

Peter smiled and whispered to himself, "Yeah, it did."

Elizabeth looked out the window and watched Neal and Mozzie. She glanced at the clock on the microwave and realized they had been out there for nearly four hours. She frowned and walked to the fridge and retrieved two large bottled waters.

She made her way down to where they were working and smiled as she captured Neal's attention on her approach.

Neal returned her smile. The sleeves of his navy blue striped shirt were rolled up to just above the elbows. Sweat stains encircled his armpits. The top three buttons of the button-up dress shirt were undone. His hair was soaked from his excessive perspiration due to the extremely hot afternoon and radiating heat from the sun. Beads of sweat slid down his face and glistened over his partially exposed chest.

Elizabeth handed a bottle of water to him. "Here, you need to stay hydrated. Are you getting close to being done?"

He glanced over his shoulder to Mozzie who was toting two large logs back towards them from the large stack that had dwindled down to around three-foot high now. "Ask me that question again in about four more hours." He turned back to face her and smiled.

"Oh my goodness. You need to eat something. Come in the house so you can cool down and eat."

"It's okay, El. We need to get this done." Neal took one of the logs from Mozzie as he stood next to Neal.

Elizabeth frowned. "Neal, I wasn't asking." She offered a somewhat threatening look.

Neal smiled and looked at Mozzie. "I guess we're taking a break."

Mozzie dropped the log he was holding. "Thank god. Elizabeth, you're an angel."

She smiled and handed Mozzie the other bottle of water.

They walked into the house and Neal and Mozzie sat down at the table while Elizabeth began preparing them a sandwich.

Peter walked by and saw them, he frowned and entered the dining room. "Did you finish already?"

Neal frowned. "Not yet."

"Then why are you here? Get out there and finish."

"Peter! They need a break and they need to eat. I told them to come inside. If you want it done so fast then get out there and help them." She was good at scolding with her eyes and her tone of voice. She was the only one that could do that with Peter. Neal smiled.

Peter held his hand up in a manner to calm her. "Okay, calm down, honey. I'll back off of them."

"Peter it's our last night here. Why don't you just let them quit so we can still spend some time with your family? I think Neal has learned his lesson." She turned to face Neal and her voice dropped slightly. "Haven't you, Neal?"

Neal smiled. "Oh, I have. Believe me, I have."

"Honey, truth be told, it's not exactly up to me."

She frowned as she finished preparing the sandwiches. "What are you talking about; who is it up to then?"

"Dad. He's the one that imposed this punishment, not me. So if it ends early, that's up to him."

"What is up to who?" John appeared in the kitchen entrance holding a beer in his hand.

Elizabeth turned to face him and smiled. "John, this is our last night here and I would like all of us to spend it together. That's hard to do with Neal outside chopping wood."

John looked at Neal and began walking towards the table where he and Mozzie sat. "Neal, do you think you've done enough based on your actions?"

Neal looked from Elizabeth back to Peter; he was not exactly sure how to respond to John. Did he feel he had done enough? He had never been asked a question like that. What determined what enough was? What exactly was the past four hours of chopping wood to accomplish? He had defied Peter's request to leave things with Greg alone. Not only that but he had gone against his agreement with the Marshals' office to not leave Peter's side while they were away from New York. That could have resulted in serious consequences for both him and for Peter. He could have been sent back to prison; Peter could have been demoted or even fired. John could have been hurt or killed by getting him involved. When he thought about the terrifying outcome that could have been due to his actions, he began to see why Peter and John were so upset with him. And now he began to feel guilty; he was actually feeling regret. He looked back at John and slowly shook his head. "No, sir. I was out of line and I should pay for that. I will finish the wood pile."

John smiled and looked at Peter. Peter returned his father's smile. It was a smile of satisfaction. The punishment had served its purpose. It provided the needed time to ponder over the mistake and reveal the raw emotion that unveiled the risk and dangers it posed. John walked up beside Neal and leaned down. He placed one hand on Neal's shoulder. "Go take a shower, son. You stink."

Neal looked up at John and frowned. "I'm not finished, though."

John stood erect and patted Neal's shoulder with his hand. "Yeah, you are. Now go shower."

Mozzie smiled and stood to his feet. "Good, then I'm going home. It's been fun, Neal, but I am headed back to my humble abode."

Neal laughed and shook Mozzie's hand. "Thanks for everything, Mozz. And I'm sorry I got you involved in this."

Later that evening they all gathered in the living room talking and sharing stories. Neal was surprised at how many stories he and Peter actually had to share. They told them about the time they engaged in a belt fight while undercover. John and Carla laughed uncontrollably as they relayed the story.

Elizabeth smiled as she stood and excused herself. After a few minutes she reappeared in the living room carrying a board game. She sat it down on the coffee table and smiled. "Let's play a game."

Neal looked down at the dark blue box. On the top of it in silver lettering read the word Pictionary. Peter rolled his eyes. "I hate this game."

"Only because you lost that one year to your cousin Randy. The two of you were always so competitive." Carla smiled as she removed the lid to the game.

Elizabeth looked at Neal who was watching as they began pulling out the different objects from the box. "Have you ever played this game before, Neal?"

Neal smiled and shook his head. "No. I've heard of it, but never played it."

"Well then, I would say it's a good time to learn how to play it then. Boys against girls," Elizabeth announced.

The first few rounds were mostly a learning curve for Neal. He began to understand how the game worked and also began to realize how horrible Peter was at drawing, an edge he felt he had over everyone in the room. Apparently being a forger had its perks.

It was Peter's turn to draw again. He pulled a card and smiled. "Oh, I got this."

He picked up a blue marker and started to draw an egg shape on the dry-erase board. Quickly Neal and John yelled out egg, then rock, followed by moon and many other possibilities. But Peter continued to draw. He began to place multiple squiggly lines over the egg shape. Neal yelled out hatch, hatching, breaking, crack, cracking. Peter looked frustrated and shook his head. He wanted so badly to just blurt out the answer; he realized just why he hated this game so badly. It was only good for true artist, which he was not, made evident by the horrible childlike drawing on the board. No, it was worse than childlike; a child could have done better.

Suddenly Elizabeth jumped up and yelled out, "Time!"

Neal and John both frowned and looked back at Peter. Peter turned and looked at his drawing. "It's a badge." He sounded like it was obvious.

Neal choked out a loud laugh. "That's not a badge, Peter. That's an egg."

"I was drawing the shape of the FBI badge and it was blue, that's the standard color of law enforcement. I couldn't write the letters FBI because of the stupid rules of this stupid game." He dropped the marker onto the table and walked back to the sofa beside Neal.

Neal continued to laugh. "You know if you seriously thought that was a badge, there must be some kind of deep emotional scars you have. Or maybe that's what you think is going to happen to your position at the FBI; you're going to crack it up somehow." Neal leaned back and placed his arm across his stomach as he continued to laugh.

Peter glared at him. "That is not funny. Take it back, Neal."

Neal shook his head. "Never."

"Take it back," Peter ordered again.

Neal smiled. "Make me."

"Gladly." He reached over and picked up a bottle of water that was sitting on the coffee table with one hand. His other hand captured Neal's shirt as Neal tried to make a run for safety, pulling him back against the sofa.

Peter shoved him down and began pouring the water slowly over his faca and head.

Neal tried to fight back, but he was no match for Peter's brute strength and larger frame. "Okay, I take it back," he yelled out.

"You had your chance and now it's gone." Peter continued to pour the water over his head. The sofa cushions began to absorb the water as it soaked past Neal's thick brown hair.

Carl stood to her feet and cried out, "Stop it. Oh my goodness, John, they're going to ruin the couch."

Elizabeth just laughed. She loved it when they let their guard down and acted like kids. Like brothers. Getting to enjoy a past they never had together.

John had a smile on his face but he stood to his feet and gripped Peter by his arm and pulled him off of Neal. "All right, that's enough, you two."

Peter smiled as he looked down at a now-soaked Neal. His hair was wet and the top part of his shirt was soaked. Neal sat up and laughed as he used the tail of his shirt to dry his face off.

"Let's try to finish this game without destroying the house." John took the water bottle from Peter.

Elizabeth handed the marker to Neal. "Neal, it's your turn."

Neal smiled as he took the marker and walked back to the board. He glanced back at Peter and snickered. "Let's see if I can draw something other than an egg."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Neal pulled a card and smiled as he read his word, Artist. He began drawing across the board but he became so wrapped up in this drawing he forgot he had a one-minute time limit. As he drew, Peter and John kept silent; they watched but found nothing to give even a clue as to what he was drawing.

Suddenly Elizabeth yelled out, "Time."

Neal looked at his drawing and then he realized this game was not good even for an artist. Because an artist pays too much attention to detail, and with a time limit of one minute there is only so much detail you can work into a drawing such as this.

Peter began to laugh. "What were you doing, Neal? Trying to create a masterpiece in one minute? You're horrible at this game."

Neal frowned. "You can't rush a true artist, Peter. Besides, the word was Artist, so what was I supposed to do? Draw an egg?"

"No, just draw you behind bars." Peter smiled.

Neal pressed his lips together and suddenly he dropped the marker to the floor. He lunged towards Peter, plunging his shoulder into Peter's stomach.

Carla began to scream, "Not in the house! John, do something."

John walked over and quickly opened the front door and looked back at Peter and Neal who were now on the living room floor struggling against each other's grasp. He waved his arm, directing them outside. "Outside NOW!" He sounded angry but his lips struggled to conceal the smile that threatened to take over.

Peter struggled to his feet as he freed himself from Neal's grip. He grabbed Neal by the collar of the shirt and shoved him towards the door. "Let's take this outside before we both get in trouble."

Neal rose to his feet and proceeded out the door. Just they both made it past the doorway to the house Peter smiled and rushed towards Neal. His shoulder landed in Neal's chest and his right arm circled around him. He used his weight and pushed Neal towards his father's truck. Neal's body slammed into the passenger door of the old truck creating a loud thud sound.

Johns hand came up to his head and he cringed as he saw the impact coming even before it happened. "Not on my truck."

Neal used his arm and slid it under Peter's left arm; he twisted his body so that it seemed to come free from Peter's strong grip rather easily. Before Peter knew it Neal had slipped out of his hold and was now behind Peter pulling his left arm behind Peter's back.

Peter frowned. "How the crap did you do that?" He began to struggle against Neal and after a few attempts he managed to reverse the situation and with one quick move he regained the upper hand pinning Neal beneath him against the ground.

But Neal once again seemed to do the impossible and he pulled another Houdini, escaping Peter a second time. Peter grunted as he tried his best to maintain his captive. "You slippery little turd."

Neal laughed when he heard Peter call him that. It caused his fight to falter slightly as he attempted to regain a hold on Peter. He put Peter into a head lock and smiled and he listened to Peter struggle and mutter something under his breath.

But he could tell Peter was not giving in, and he himself was beginning to tire out. "Okay, let's call it a draw," Neal requested as he held firm his hold around Peter's neck.

"Not on your life. Suddenly Peter slipped his arm beneath Neal's knee and pulled forward knocking Neal to the ground. Peter quickly spun around and pulled Neal into a headlock and wrapped his right arm around Neal's right arm pulling them both into some kind of twisted pretzel-like shape. "You give?" Peter asked.

Neal clenched his teeth. "No."

Peter tightened his grip, Neal flinched at the discomfort as it contorted his body. "Give now?" Peter again requested.

"Not on your life." Neal's words sounded resolved but his tone gave evidence of his weakening spirit.

Peter smiled. He looped his left arm around Neal's left elbow and pulled it behind Neal's back. Neal winced as it pulled against his chest muscles.

"How about now?" Peter grinned.

Neal closed his eyes tight then shot them open again. "Okay, okay I give."

Peter smiled. "Now say you're no match for your big brother."

"What?"

Peter again tightened his grip. "Say it."

"Okay, fine, I'm not match for my big brother."

Peter chuckled and slowly released his grip. Neal ripped his arms away from Peter and turned around to face him. He smiled. "I let you win, you know."

"Whatever." Peter laughed.

"I did. I mean I know there is only so much abuse you can take at your delicate age."

Peter frowned and glared at Neal. "I'm not that old. I'm only thirteen years older than you."

"Yeah, that's over a decade, Peter. A lot can happen to a person in a decade."

Peter rolled his eyes. "You're just a sore loser."

Neal smiled. "Maybe. But the thing is, you will never know when you have actually won, and when I let you win. So in the end, I always win."

Peter frowned as he watched Neal head back towards the house.

Carla and John stood in the doorway as they watched the commotion between the two men. Carla smiled. "Oh, John, what are we ever going to do with two boys in the house?"

John placed his arm around his wife and smiled. "I don't know. But it's a nice problem to have."