Hello again! I know, this took some time, but I changed directions a few times and therefore had to revise everything else. The next chapter will be located in the hospital and Neal will get to know El! Thank you so much for your support, it means a lot to me and I can't believe that so many people like my story. I'll go on as soon as possible.


Neal found himself sitting in a plain white room, his hands still cuffed behind his back. He refused to talk to anyone but Peter and they let him wait in here. His throat was aching every time he swallowed, and he couldn't stop himself from coughing from time to time, but otherwise remained perfectly still, his eyes fixed on the tabletop.

It wasn't because he was non-cooperative, but he struggled to stay awake, so he knew he had to save his strength to be able to talk to Peter and follow the plan. Furthermore he wouldn't show them how afraid and desperate he was. After his life with his father he had a lot of practice to hide his pain and emotions.

He felt his temperature rising up again and tried to find a more comfortable position on the chair to ease the pain in his whole body a little but couldn't. He felt thirsty, hungry and a little dizzy and the handcuffs cut his wrist. He sighed softly. What would he give for a nice cup of tea right now and a warm and cosy bed, even just for an hour.


Peter was standing in front of the interrogation room next to agent Jones and Barrington. They were all glancing through the one-way-mirror, looking at the narrow shape inside, sitting on a steel chair in front of a plain table.

"He's not moving at all, just sitting in the same position for over an hour now.", Dianna said, clearly amazed.

Peter threw her a glance. "So he didn't talk? Not at all?"

Dianna shook his head. "Only once to tell us that he requires to talk to you, boss. To Peter.", she chuckled. "He's a polite little fellow, by the way."

Peter looked up, slightly annoyed by the boy's arrogance. "Well, I'll better get in now. I think he had enough time to think."

When he entered the room, it took the boy a few seconds to notice his appearance. He looked pale and Peter could see some welding beads on the kid's forehead. He sat down across the table and watched him carefully.

Neal finally looked up and put on a perfect smile. "Hello, Peter!", he said hoarsely.

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Are you all right, Caffrey?", he said, not mentioning the name-issue again for now.

"Of course I am!", Neal looked at him blithely and sounded almost convincing. "Uhm… It's just… do you really think these are necessary in here?", he asked, lifting his arms a little behind his back.

"Do YOU?", Peter replied, a bit too harsh.

Neal grinned. "Maybe. But see, I came here voluntarily. Do you really think I did that just to prove my escaping skills?"

"Why not? Would be a typical Caffrey, don't you think?", Peter replied, mindful not to chuckle.

The kid put on his weak smile and focused on the tabletop. "You're right. It's wise not to trust me, you really shouldn't.", he said, sounding really tired now. Peter hesitated for a moment, but then stood up and went to remove the boy's handcuffs. Neal raised his glance and smiled.

"Thank you, that's much better!", he said, rubbing his wrists. Peter nodded and went back to his chair. He could see some nasty bruises on the boy's arms and noticed a badly healed cut on the boy's face.

"Do you need something, Caffrey? A medical maybe?", he asked concerned.

Neal shook his head. "Nah, already told you I'm fine. I bet you've got a lot of questions. So, don't be shy, just ask!". He was trying hard to distract from his poor condition with his cocky behaviour but couldn't fool Peter. He sighed and eyed up the skinny kid.

"But I bet you could do with something to eat or to drink before we start, don't you?". He saw the boy struggling with himself and hesitating, clearly even unable to admit this kind of weakness. Then he obviously made a decision and beamed at Peter.

"Sure, why not? I wouldn't mind a little snack. Thank you, Peter.". Peter nodded satisfied.

"What would you like?".

The boy shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Whatever is available is fine with me, not a big effort, please!". Barington was right, he WAS far too polite for a teen of his age! Peter thought and left the room to sent Jones out to get them something to eat. When he came back, he got a brief impression of how exhausted the boy was. He sat there with drooping shoulders, coughing a little and couldn't sit upright properly. As soon as the kid noticed that Peter was back, he sat up and put on his mask again, looking expectantly at the agent. Peter sat down again and watched the boy carefully.

"You're 14 now, right?"

Neal raised his eyebrows. "Oh really, THAT's you first question? Well, I suppose I'm 15 now."

The agent looked a him in surprise. "You suppose?".

"Uhm…, I…somehow... forgot my birthday last week, too much work to do. You know what I mean, your wife has probably not seen much of you in the past few weeks. A stupid birthday isn't important, doesn't really matter to me.", he shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable and tried to avoid Peter's eyes.

"I see. And what exactly were you so busy with?" The kid looked him in the eyes again and put on a crooked grin again.

"I refuse to testify", he said simply. There he was again, Mr. nobody-can-do-anything-to me. Peter shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"What about your parents, Caffrey? I'd like to inform them that you're with us, they will be concerned because of your absence." Peter noticed a dark shadow crossing the boy's face after that.

"It's fine, Peter. There's none to be notified. I take care of myself!", Neal said dismissively.

Peter raised his eyebrows, but before he could go on asking, Jones arrived with the food Peter ordered and spread it out on the table in front of the boy. A burger, fries, coke and a giant cookie. Neal looked stunned and a little greedy at all the food, his hands neatly folded under the tabletop.

"Go on, help yourself!", Peter encouraged him. Neal threw him a glance and started with some fries hesitantly. He ate slowly and with perfect manners at first but couldn't control himself after a while. Peter couldn't remember seeing someone eating so much food in such a short time. The poor boy really seemed half starved.

"How long haven't you eaten properly, Caffrey?", Peter asked after even the smallest crumb disappeared. Neal looked down on the tabletop again, clearly ashamed.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I'm a teenager, you know. We're always hungry. But thanks, really!", he said evasively, avoiding the answer to Peter's question. He looked up after a short while, smiling his typical Caffrey smile again. "Now I owe you one!".

Peter chuckled. "Good to know. I'll come back to that."

Neal slid around on the chair nervously now. "May I… may I go to the toilet please?".

"Of course, Caffrey! Jones will accompany you." Peter looked at him while he was leaving the room and noticed a slight limb.

He used the small break to phone his wife to tell her not to expect him for dinner tonight. After he updated her, she expressed her relief.

"Now we know he's safe, Peter. Safe with you. And what do you do next? He'll obviously need a doctor."

"He told me he doesn't want one.", he was feeling a little guilty now. Thank good he offered him something to eat, otherwise his wife would have arrived in the office in person with a bunch of food in no time and lecture him in front of his staff.

"Oh Peter, he's a child. He doesn't know what has to be done to make sure he's all right, you have to decide what he needs. I guess he just wants to play the strong and brave man in front of you. And after all you've told me, he's definitely in need of medical help. And I bet you already knew that." He sighed softly.

"You're right, hon, as always."


The young black agent guided Neal to the close by restrooms and didn't take his eyes off him, not even for a second. Neal felt a little annoyed, but made sure his expression didn't show it at all. On the surface he appeared to be calm and self-confident, he really mastered this quality. As expected, he left him alone after Neal entered the windowless room. He hurried towards the last cabin and closed the door behind him.

He opened the cistern then and removed a small plastic bag with a key card inside. He pushed it into his left shoe and washed the bag down the toilet. Outside he could hear someone entering the room.

"Come on Caffrey, what takes you so long?", he shouted out.

Neal flushed the toilet again, just to pretend and left the cabin. "No need to worry, agent Jones. Just relax a little, I won't vanish inside a windowless room. Am ready to go.", he answered, coughing again to his displeasure. But inside he felt very satisfied. First step: Check! When they went back to the interrogation room, he made sure to walk as upright as possible and tried to ignore his aching knee.

Man, David had really overdone it the last time!

When they walked down the floor, he could see Peter standing in front of the room.

"What a nice welcome, thank you Peter!", Neal smiled broadly.

The agent didn't reply but came straight to the point. "We'll take you to see a doctor now, Caffrey. Just to make sure you're all right."

Neal's smile dropped. "I told you I don't need a doctor, Peter. I'm ok, I swear.", he said and felt the panic rising up. He couldn't leave the building. He had to save Mozzie and he had to stay here to fulfil his duty.

"I don't argue. I'll take you to the hospital. It's for your own good. Give me your hands, please." Peter took out his handcuffs.

Neal's thoughts were racing and he felt his breathing speed up. Now of all times he couldn't suppress a cough and noticed to his horror a rattle in his lungs, that couldn't be ignored by the agent in front of him.

"No, Peter, I … .", he started desperately, but the agent interrupted him.

"Your hands, Caffrey. And I really expect you to cooperate. I'll decide from now on.", he said sternly.

Neal looked him in the eyes and realized that he had no choice. He held out his wrists reluctantly and Peter put on the cuffs in front of him. The agent led him to the elevator. Neal could hardly breath and he focused on the floor to calm down a little but couldn't. What now?


When Peter told the kid that he had to see a doctor, the boy suddenly went pale. When they were standing in the elevator side by side, the young con just looked at the floor in front of him, obviously deep in thoughts and really worried.

"What's wrong, buddy? They won't eat you up in the hospital, you know."

Neal gave him a quick sideways glance. "It's just not necessary, Peter. I told you I'm all right."

"I know, but I don't believe you. You're for sure a genius con man, you know how to outsmart people, but right know you can't fool me. And I have the power to decide what's best for you right now."

Neal stared at the floor again, his brown, wavy hair hung straggly over his eyes. He didn't answer but shrugged powerless.

When they reached the parking level, Neal hesitated a little, but then walked beside Peter with no more resistance. During the ride to the hospital the boy remained unusual quiet, his cuffed hands neatly folded in his lap again. He looked out of his window, clearly tired as hell and coughed with a nasty rattle from time to time.

"Caffrey…", Peter began. He didn't really know what to say to ease the boy. "I'd really like to help you, you know? You made the right decision when you volunteered, and I promise that you can trust me. As soon as you're ready to work with us, I'm almost certain we can work something out."

Neal turned and stared at his hands now. "Almost certain, not too bad I suppose. But I … I have to go to jail, right?".

Peter paused for a moment but decided to be honest with the young criminal beside him. "To juvie. But yes, that's very likely. See Neal, you're a criminal and you have to pay for your offenses. But after that you can start all over again. You're still very young, there's another way for you, a better one!".

He glanced over to see the boy's expression and finally saw him smile again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, you just called me Neal for the first time instead of Caffrey.", the boy looked at him sheepishly.

Peter smiled, too. "Want me to stick to the last name?", he chuckled.

"Naah, you'll be given honour, feel free to call me by my first name.", the boy said, sounding very generous.

Peter laughed out loud. "I guess it was about time, after all the postcards and phone call. But that doesn't change the fact that YOU should call ME agent Burke, buddy." he said emphatically, trying to hide his upcoming grin.

"Yeah, whatever Peter", the boy laughed and turned to look out of his window again, his expression tense and desperate again.

Peter's smile vanished. He felt that there was more than the fear of prison. What kind of a burden are you carrying on your shoulders, kid?