Hey guys, first of all, I hope everyone of you is all right in this weird, horrible time! I'm in my parents house for almost four weeks now and we're only allowed to leave the household with members of our family for short walks or grocery shopping. It's kind of funny that my next chapter is located in a shopping mall, because that wouldn't be possible here right now. I wish you all the best, please stay safe! And I'll stop apologizing for the delays. I promise I'll go on writing, but it sometimes takes some time. Thanks again for your comments! Stay strong and healthy out there!


Peter woke up with a gasp and looked around in confusion. It was still pitch black and he couldn't hear anything than the steady breathes of his wife right next to him. El recently began using earplugs, so he doubted an earthquake would be able to wake her up. He looked at his wife full of affection and smiled a little.

Then a piercing cry cut the silence. It took him only a few seconds to slip out of his bed and he ran towards the boy's room. Without hesitation he opened the guestroom's door and immediately saw Neal lying without his blanket in the middle of his bed, sweat- and maybe tears- were pouring down his face and he was shivering badly.

Peter went closer and carefully sat down. It felt like an exact repletion of the first night.

"Neal, I'm here buddy, wake up.", he said softly, but the boy obviously didn't hear him and didn't stop tossing himself around.

"Neal!", he tried a little louder. The boy winced but didn't wake up.

"Mozzie, I'm coming…please leave him alone, you fucking bastard… please… please hold on, don't die!", he cried, his voice full of desperation.

Peter hesitated, but then climbed onto the bed and pulled the sleeping boy in his arms as he did a few days before, after the boy's attempt to escape the hospital. He hugged him as tightly as he could and started talking to him soothingly.

"Come on, buddy. Wake up, you're safe with me. I promise!" It took the boy a few seconds, but then he furiously tried to free himself out of Peter's arms. "Nooo, leave me alone. I won't ever… you son of a bitch, leave me alone. You can't do that to me anymore…Let me go, just let me…", he shouted and struggled hard.

But Peter didn't let him go. "Calm down, Caffrey. It's fine, it's just me. Stop fighting!", he went on talking quietly and even tightened his hug.

Neal slowly regained full consciousness and stopped moving. He was breathing hard and Peter could feel his pulse pounding fast against his chest. At last the kid stopped struggling completely. They both sat there in silence for a few seconds and he could feel the kid relaxing a little. He leaned his head against Peter's arms, absolutely exhausted. Peter lowered his arms and the boy quickly slipped aside and awkwardly leaned on the wall next to him

"All right now, buddy?", Peter quietly asked, and the boy answered with a small nod. "Who did you think I was?"

"I didn't mean to say… those words to you.", the kid quietly replied.

"That's not a proper answer to my question." Neal just hung his head but didn't answer.

"You said you would be honest from now on.", Peter reminded him.

"I told you, my personal past is none of your business, because it's not important. I told you several times now, please don't ask anymore. It has nothing to do with the things I did… the criminal ones, I mean.", Neal replied harshly and avoided Peter's gaze.

"I don't really believe that.", Peter stated simply and they both went quiet again. Neal awkwardly tried to get rid of the tears with the back of his hand and looked down ashamed.

"So… does that mean that it's a family member you were thinking of?", he went on. Neal didn't answer, but Peter could see his clenched fists, the anger and pain in his face and new tears appearing.

"All right, I got it, calm down.", he sighted. "What about Mozzie? Is he – or she?- part of this I-won't-talk-about-my- past-and family thing, too?", he carefully added. "And don't tell me I misheard something, because that won't work twice, you know! I may be old, but I'm not stupid and my hearing is quite well, too.".

Neal's eyes widened and he looked at him, uncertain how to answer. He denied talking again and Peter just waited and raised his eyebrows questioningly. He could see Neal fighting against himself.

"I…it's… kind of family. I just… I miss him, that's all.", the kid mumbled, lowering his gaze again.

"I don't think so, buddy!", Peter said softly. "You were screaming in your sleep. It sounded as if you were scared as hell. Is he in danger?"

Neal hesitated and then shook his head. "It's all right. I mean… I guess he's all right.", he said, barely noticeably.

"You're sure kid?", Peter tried to touch Neal's knee beside him, but the boy obviously didn't see it coming, so he flinched badly and backed away again before he regained control over his body and stopped moving, his eyes focussing Peter.

"It's all right, I should know better by now.", Peter gently said and raised his hands to ease him a little. The boy's piercing blue eyes stared at him, desperate and lost.

"No…I'm sorry…I'm… I think I'm just… not really used to be touched like that. It's not your fault.", he quietly admitted, and Peter could see a hint of regret right after telling him so.

He eyed him carefully. "So…what exactly is it you are used to?", he asked thoughtfully, and could literally feel the boy stiffening again.

"Please, Peter, please stop it.", he calmly replied. Peter sighed heavily, slipped off the bed and watched Neal, who now hugged his knees again and ignored him.

"You promise you'll talk to me tomorrow if I avoid personal topics, do you?" Neal nodded without any hesitation but didn't look up.

"All right. So, try to get some sleep." The kid nodded again, and Peter turned to leave the room.

"Peter?" He stopped. "Yes?" Neal still refused to look him in the eyes. "Thank you… for waking me up and … you know."

"You're welcome, kid." A smile crossed the agent's face. He wouldn't stop fighting for this boy. How could he?


El had already left them both early the next morning and they were finishing breakfast in an awkward silence.

"So…ready for some shopping?", Peter tried to lighten the mood.

Neal shrugged and looked down at his ankle. "Am I even allowed to?"

The agent chuckled. "As long as you're with me, that won't be a problem. But seriously, kid, you're staying close to me, understand? I'm totally aware of your abilities, no need to proof them. Is that clear?"

Neal nodded. "It is, Peter. I promise.", he said firmly. The kid hesitated a little, but then pointed on his hoodie.

"Um, Peter. Is there anything else for me to wear? I mean, I understand that this label would be perfect to recognize me in a crowded shop, but… I'd prefer something a little less… sensational?!"

Peter laughed out loud. "Let me see what I can do for you. Even though I like the thought of myself asking for an announcement through the speakers saying I've lost my labelled property."

Neal smiled, too. "I guess that would be great. Hundreds of housewives and senior citizens hunting me down to get the reward. But no, I'd rather not."

Peter chuckled again. "Who said you'd be worth a reward?"

The kid's smile grew wider. "Good to know. Makes it so much easier. Who on earth would bother to run after a kid without even getting a single dollar?"

"Oh, you bet I would. You won't ever get away again, kid. I promise!", Peter replied casually, and he could see that Neal got it as he intended him to. He threw him a firm and at the same time gentle look. The kid slowly nodded reluctantly.


Peter went upstairs to grab some, according to Neal, not-too-bad-looking pieces to wear for the boy and they were heading towards a huge shopping mall outside the city only half an hour later. Neal was convulsively looking out of the window during the whole drive and Peter felt once more uncertain how to react, so he let him be for the moment. Then suddenly he recognized a small movement beside him and could see Neal slide nervously back and forth on his seat, still observing the neighbourhood.

"What's wrong, kiddo?", Peter asked him gently. Neal, obviously deep in thoughts, hastily turned around.

"What? Oh… nothing, just a… you know, it's not really a common thing for me to go shopping with a fed.", he brought out hesitantly and concentrated on the street in front of him.

Peter shook his head. Why did he even bother asking? Stubborn kid. When they both left the car and headed inside the building, Neal went stiffly beside him and constantly kept looking around, even though he tried to hide it. He threw Peter several sideway glances and looked as if he liked to disappear, he even ducked his head.

"What is this about, Neal? You're looking like a scared puppy away from his mother for the first time. I'm not the one you're scared of right now, am I?", he asked him annoyed.

The kid flinched and met his gaze guiltily but remained quiet for a short while. "No. I'm sorry. I guess it's just the tracking anklet and… all this. It feels awkward, the whole situation. And this neighbourhood. Give me time to adjust!", he then quietly admitted.

Now it was Peter's turn to look around in confusion. "What's wrong with the neighbourhood? We always come here, El and me, it's a nice mall. And I doubt anyone will recognize me as an Agent and your anklet is covered, so don't be ridiculous."

Neal snorted. "This mall may be nice, Peter. But I tell you, the neighbourhood isn't. You won't see it through the colourful walls in here, though. And sorry Peter, but every person with some sense will recognize you for what you are. You couldn't hide it, even if you tried."

"Every criminal person with some sense, you mean.", he pointed out. Neal just shrugged.

"How do you know?", Peter asked thoughtfully.

"Know what?", Neal answered distracted by a skinny man who passed them.

"That this isn't a nice neighbourhood, silly.", he teased him.

"I've been here a few times. For… some businesses."

"Businesses?"

"Well… I suppose you wouldn't want to know. Would you mind going in there, Peter? I really like their stuff.", Neal answered evasively, pointing on a store window with ugly neon clothes. He doubted this was Neal's style, either.

"Well… why not?.", he sighed, and he left it for now.


Neal grabbed the first shirt in sight and went into the changing room of that horrible store just to have a minute on his own to think this through. Of all the neighbourhoods around New York it must have been this one. His father's flat was located only half a mile away and Neal recognized at least three of his companions passing them. He felt a shiver running down his spine. What if one of them already contacted his father? Could he ask Peter to return home straight away? He still felt a little weak after his sickness, so he supposed it wouldn't be difficult to convince Peter. But no, that wasn't possible. Peter wouldn't let him return to the headquarter under these circumstances. And he had to go there, no matter what.

"Are you all right, buddy?", Peter shouted from outside the cabin.

Neal took a deep breath and left it without the ugly shirt. "Yes. I changed my mind, this isn't my style, not at all."

Peter raised his brows and grinned. "Well, that's a relieve!".

They both left the store and it took Neal a lot to hide his nervousness. When they turned around a corner, Neal spotted a mobile sales booth with several hats displayed all around it. Thank god! He thought. He went over, followed by Peter, and took a nice, dark blue fedora. He never had one of these, but it fitted him perfectly and he liked how it felt on his head.

"Peter, could you do me a favour? I'd like this hat. I always wanted one of these.", he asked innocently.

"You… what? Are you kidding me? Isn't this something an old man would like to wear?", the agent asked irritated.

Neal shrugged. "A man with style wears a hat. That's not a question of age.", he simply answered.

Peter sighed heavily. "Whatever. You haven't got anything to wear by now, but you'll own a hat. It's a start… I guess.", he turned to pay for the hat und Neal pulled it deep down his forehead. He felt relieve flooding through his body. At least, now he felt a littler safer.


After Peter paid for this weird hat the boy had asked him for, something changed. They went into several shops afterwards and Neal was in a far better mood now. The boy didn't want Peter to spend too much money on him, but after all the Agent could convince him and they left with several bags of plain, but elegant looking clothes.

"Would you like something to eat before we're leaving?", Peter asked the kid.

"I'm not really hungry!", he quietly replied and Peter noticed his gaze following a strangers back again.

"Well, I certainly am, and I have to say that you don't really have a choice but to follow me, young man.", Peter said matter-of-factly. He could see a hint of fear in the kid's expression now, but as long as he refused talking to him, Peter wouldn't give in. They headed towards the food court.

"May I sit down as long as you grab your food?", the boy asked hesitantly.

"Nice try. But no, today you'll be my shadow." And Neal obeyed. When they finally sat down in a dark corner close to the emergency exit, Neal's choice, Peter started eating.

"You sure you're not hungry?", he asked between two bites and the boy shook his head. The agent lay down his half-eaten burger.

"Neal, what's bothering you right now? Why are you so nervous? It's not an easy task to help someone who denies any offered opportunities, you know? This isn't you. Where's the self-confident, smart and cocky boy?".

Neal stared at the tabletop and they both sat in silence for a few minutes. Peter sighted and went on eating his burger.

"All right. I guess no answer is an answer, too.", he dryly stated, his mouth full. After a few more seconds, Neal lifted up his gaze and looked him directly in the eyes.

"You're right, Peter. I'm not my usual self right now, even though I hadn't expected you'd prefer the person I've been before. There's a lot going on and I've got some difficulties to cope with it, I'm sorry that I can't fulfil your expectations. You want to know why I'm so nervous? Well… this used to be MY fucking neighbourhood. I lived here. I survived here. But I certainly didn't want to return. Are you satisfied now, Special Agent?", he spit out with tears of anger in his eyes. He stood up and left the table.

"Where do you think you're going?", Peter shouted.

"I need the toilet, if it's all right with you, but I'll be back. Track my anklet if you don't believe me. Or arrest me right now, I don't care.", he offered him his wrists and waited. When Peter didn't react, Neal turned around.

"Whatever!", he said and headed towards the bathrooms.


When Neal reached the toilet, he firmly closed the cabinets door behind him and leaned against it. Cold sweat was running down his face and he could hardly breath. What the hell did he just do? Peter was right, he wasn't himself, at all. He had to find a way back, as soon as possible. He didn't like this weak and needy version of himself. It took him a few minutes to calm down, before he felt strong enough to leave the cabin. He went over to the sink and splashed cold water in his face.

Someone was entering the room and Neal half expected it to be Peter, looking after him. He reluctantly turned around, but before he had the opportunity to recognize the man in front of him, a fist was rammed into his stomach. He hunched and felt over on the dirty ground, pain exploding in his chest.

The man kicked him violently and Neal saw stars and wasn't able to breath. A hand grabbed his shirt and pulled him up. He struggled desperately to free himself, but his enemy forced him to look at him. Neal stared at the well-known, cold eyes.

"Hello son!", his father said with a false, cruel smile and pressed him against the cold white tiles. "Nice to finally see you again!".