Hello again :), now I finaly decided how to go on. It took me quite a while. But afterwards it felt a lot easier to write it down, so I hope there won't be such a long delay anymore. Thank you so much for the reviews and for all the quiet readers. I'm working part time in a residential home for elderly people now, besides my master thesis and I somehow enjoy it and have a lot more energy, which is weird, because it takes a lot of time and it's not easy, because so many of them feel alone without their relatives. I hope that this will be over soon. I hope that you're all save and healthy out there! :) Now, enjoy please!


Neal couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He felt scared and desperate. But he could feel something else rising up. Anger. Raw and indomitable, waiting deep inside him for so long. Even though he didn't deserve it at all, Peter and El showed him how it could have been. And he suddenly knew that he could never ever live his old life again.

His father's fist hit his chest again, but he couldn't feel the pain anymore. An unknown strength flooded his body and he pushed James as hard away as he could manage. His father's eyes widened, and he stumbled a few steps backward and crashed against a toilet's door. But he quickly became his former self again and a nasty grin spread on his face.

"Woah, son. I didn't know that there's a real Bennett inside this skinny artist. I'm impressed."

Neal was shivering and felt nothing but disgust. "I'm not a Bennett. I'll never be like you, a piece of shit.", he spit out and tried to reach the door to leave. Within a split second, James went over to block the exit.

"Let me go! I'm not part of your life anymore.", Neal said in a firm, strong voice and he forced himself to hold his fathers gaze.

"Not yet, kid. You owe me something.", his father clicked his tongue and shook his head, as if he was talking to a small child.

"I don't owe you anything! You owe me my childhood! Just get out of my way and stay away from me, for good."

James started laughing and grabbed his son's shoulders tightly. Neal could feel his new courage slowly disappear.

"Listen, you little bastard. If you want to leave your beloved father and live on your own, that's fine with me. But you didn't finish your last job. I know what happened.", he kicked his foot against Neal's anklet. "I know where you're living right now. And I know what Keller wants you to do. It's the same I want you to do. But you'll hand the painting to me, not to Keller."

Neal started to sweat. "No! I can't do that. I have to fulfil Keller's request. I have to!", he freed himself and slowly backed away from bis father until he reached the restroom's wall.

"You did that forgery under my roof. You are my son, my property. I fed you, I paid for your supplies…"

Neal, now furious again, interrupted him harshly. "You WHAT? You've never earned a penny for several years now. I took care of everything. You treated me like a slave, and I won't tolerate that anymore. I'm not a child anymore. I know what I'm capable of and I know that you always exploited me."

His father slapped his face and Neal couldn't stand upright anymore. He hit the ground and could taste blood in his mouth.

"You fucking brat! Never talk to me like that again, or I swear you'll regret it. Listen to me, we don't have time to waste. I know your fed friend is waiting for you. Here's the deal: After you got that painting, you'll hand it to me. I'll sell it to Keller afterwards, to get what is due to me. And after that, I won't bother you anymore. If you refuse, I promise I'll find you, no matter where you hide. I'll hunt you, torture you and then you'll find out what it really means to work like a slave. You're my possession, that won't change until I allow it. Understand?", he underlined his spoken words with a kick in his son's stomach. Neal struggled to breathe again.

"I…have to… Mozzie…", he brought out.

"Ahh, you're freaky little friend. Tell you what, Keller won't dirty his hands because of an insignificant petty criminal. I bet he'll let him go right after he got his damned painting, don't you think? Either way, after you're out of the headquarter, you'll come straight to me. Understood? Remember, you won't ever feel free otherwise. And who says it couldn't be me who- accidently- killed your little friend?".

Before Neal had time to answer, the door behind his father opened and they both hastily turned around. A man in a black suit entered the room and looked puzzled at Neal. His father stretched out his hand and offered it to Neal.

"May I help you up, young man? I told you, the floor is unbelievable slippery right here.", he said, almost too friendly. Neal looked back and forth between his dad and the stranger and hesitantly took the offered hand. The stranger's expression changed, and he now looked bored and uninvolved and went without a second look in one of the toilet cabinets. His father turned around and headed towards the exit door.

"Have a nice day, kid! And remember my words, always be careful!", he said, but ran his finger along his neck, imitating a deadly knife. His cold eyes fixed his son for a moment, then he was gone.


Peter took another look at his watch. He wanted to offer the kid some time alone, to give him space to calm down a little. But Neal had left over fifteen minutes ago, and even though Peter could see, thanks to his tracking app, that he wasn't moving, he decided to take a look now. #

On his way to the restrooms, he nearly crashed into a dark haired, unpleasant looking man with scars all over his face and cold, piercing eyes. "Excuse me, sir!", the man mumbled and rushed away. Peter could smell a faint scent of alcohol and shook his head, it wasn't even proper lunch time!

When he reached the restroom's door, it opened before he could grab the handle. Neal was standing in the doorframe, startled by his appearance he winced, but managed to hold his head down.

"You're all right, kid?", Peter asked gently. "Yes. Just needed some time to … think. Can we go know, Peter? Please?", he mumbled.

"Well…yes. Of course, we can. You're sure you're all right?". His gut told him once more that the kid wasn't.

"Told you so, Peter. Let's just leave…please." They headed towards the main exit and almost forgot the kid's new clothes. Outside, they were blinded by the bright sunlight. After his eyes adjusted, Peter threw the kid a sideway glance and suddenly noticed a red swelling all over the boy's left cheek. Without thinking, he reached out for the boy's chin.

"What the hell…", he yelled.

Neal's eyes widened. He gasped, dodged away and almost fell down. He held his chest in pain and took a deep breath. Peter just stood and watched him, feeling unable to react. After a moment, the kid slowly straightened up, fear in his eyes, and took a few steps backwards. Peter stood still and watched him in disbelief. How could that has happened in less than fifteen minutes? Neal just stared at him.

Peter then suddenly headed back inside the mall. "Follow me!", he commanded, and the kid obeyed reluctantly.

He ran towards the restrooms and entered in a rush. As expected, he found all the cabins empty, but could see small spatter of blood next to a rusty sink. Neal stood motionless in the doorframe and watched him.

"Holy shit, what happened here, Caffrey?". No answer. Peter shook his head. It obviously was too late. Whatever happened, the other part in this was clearly long gone. He sighted in frustration.

"All right, let's just get inside the car, come on.", he said after a few seconds and turned to leave, avoiding to look at the kid. Neal followed him hesitantly and after a few silent minutes they both entered Peter's Taurus. The kid concentrated on his lap when Peter cleared his throat.

"You won't tell me you just bumped into a door, will you?", he finally said. Neal quickly met his eyes and shook his head.

"Good. Because, like I told you, I'm not stupid." Neal didn't answer. "Will you tell me what really happened?".

The kid raised his head to look outside the front window, his gaze tired and blank. "I met a…friend of mine.", he quietly replied.

Peter sighted heavily. "Honestly, kid. I'm fed up with your lies.", he shouted at him. Neal winced and Peter could see tears in his eyes. He took a deep breath and continued a lot calmer. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you."

A heavy silence spread in the car. Suddenly Neal turned around and stared at him with his bright blue eyes, which seemed awfully lifeless right now. "You don't have to be sorry. I know, I'm nothing but trouble. And I still don't understand why you're doing all this. I won't bother you anymore after my confession, I promise.", his voice sounded flat and entreatingly. Peter needed a second to congregate himself, he felt the urge to yell at the boy again, but managed a gently, but firm tone.

"What you don't understand, buddy, is that it's too late. I won't leave you alone. I won't let you go. And I won't stop worrying about you. No matter what." Neal slumped down in his seat, his forehead resting on his window.

Peter felt once more helpless and felt the strong desire to call EL, but he knew he had to manage this on his own. "We'll work this out, kid. I promise.", he said softly. For a short while, they both sat, occupied with their own thoughts.

Then the kid started talking in a husky, scarcely audible voice. "It's been my dad.", he simply said, avoiding Peter's gaze.

Peter was taken aback and didn't know what to say. "Your… dad? He did that to you?". Neal nodded. "But…why?", he said, feeling completely outraged.

The kid lifted his head and shrugged. "I disobeyed. And he ran out of beer, I suppose.", he said, sounding detached and impassive.

The agent suddenly remembered the creepy man he nearly bumped into and tried to remember him as best as he could. "Are there scars in his face?", he curiously asked.

Neal looked at him, obviously surprised. "Yes! How did you know?".

"Well, we somehow met each other... If only I had known then what he did before. How the hell did he find you?", Peter still couldn't believe it.

Neal shrugged again. "It's one of his few talents."

Peter furrowed his brows, scared to ask any further. "And…he's the one who… who abused you, right? In your former life, I mean.", he hesitantly asked. Now Neal met his eyes.

"I want to leave that part of my life behind, Peter. I'm not a victim and I don't want to be treated like one." Peter nodded and reluctantly started the engine. "But we're not done with that topic, understand?". Neal nodded again wearily.

After that, they both remained quiet, until they reached the agent's home. Neal silently went upstairs, and Peter started the kettle to make some tea for both of them. He sat down to rest for a few minutes, but the thoughts were swirling uncontrollable in his head, so he grabbed the bags with the kid's clothes and followed him upstairs. He softly knocked on the guestroom's door and heard a quiet "Come in!" afterwards.

Neal was sitting on his bed, the ointment in his hand, his upper body naked. Peter backed away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…".

Neal interrupted him. "No… it's ok. I guess, now you know. Could you…help me please?". Peter could see how hard it was for him to ask this question and felt unbelievable touched.

"Of course!", he finally managed to answer. He sat down next to the kid and reached for the ointment. He hesitated.

"It's all right, I won't jump this time.", Neal joked half-heartedly and threw him a weak smile. Peter gave it a start and began to rub the ointment onto Neal's back. The boy breathed in sharply and Peter could see the reflection of pain on his face.

"Do you need a doctor?", he gently asked. Now Neal winced badly, and Peter wasn't sure whether it was because of his touches or his question.

"No, I'm fine, honestly!", the kid hurried to reply. "Let me just change afterwards and I'm ready to go!".

"Go? No! You won't go anywhere today. I feel responsible for what happened, and I won't let you suffer more. You'll stay here and relax! No need to hurry.", Peter determined.

Neal turned around his eyes widened in horror. "No! I have to go. I… Peter, I have to…free my mind. There's so much to confess and I feel nervous about that. I'd like to get it over and done with. Please!", he begged, full of desperation.

The agent felt once more taken aback. He somehow got the feeling, that there was something else behind the boy's wish to confess. But he also knew that he couldn't postpone it forever. And he also knew how keen his boss and all the other person concerned were to listen to his testimony.

"Well, if you're sure you can make it…", he said doubtfully.

"I am.", the boy nodded frantically. Peter finished his bandage and handed him the bag with his new shirts and pants.

"All right. I'll prepare a hot drink downstairs before we go. Just come down whenever you're ready, buddy!", Peter said and smiled encouragingly at Neal.

"Thank you, Peter…for everything you did. I won't ever forget!", the kid said, great relief in his expression. The agent nodded, suddenly a lump in his throat. "You're more than welcome, kid!"