Hello again :), just a short one today! Thanks again to all the brave who persevere :-P!


Peter had to leave Neal in prison for four more days. Before he had left the center, he had made sure that Neal would be staying in the infirmary at least for two days, but he couldn't do more.

He had not much time to worry, because, even in his still weak condition – the doctor had told him to rest for at least two weeks after all he went through – he had a full timetable.

At first, he had to talk everything through once more with Hughes, who, to put it mildly, wasn't pleased.

He stressed several times, that the White Collar Division wasn't a nursery school and there wouldn't be time to babysit a young criminal.

But Peter could be very convincing and pointed out, that this kid wasn't just a stupid child, but a valuable addition to his team.

And even though Reece wasn't fully dedicated and expressed his concerns, Caffrey could run away again as soon as he had left prison, he finally agreed to give it a try.

But he made it more than clear, that Neal would have to prove his worth. Much pressure on the young criminal's shoulders – well, and on Peter's, too, because as his handler, he would be responsible and would definitely lose his job if anything went wrong.

After dealing with Hughes, he had to make another unpleasant visit in the Marshal's office.

They weren't pleased, not at all, far to aware of the things which happened last time. But they finally agreed to offer a new anklet, newest model, even harder to cut or crack.


Satisfied with himself, he spent his last Caffrey-free evening with his wife and his dog on their couch.

Elizabeth's head laid on his lap and he gently stroked her hair, while they were both watching a terribly boring romantic movie.

Peter kissed Elizabeth's forehead.

"I'm so glad you're standing behind me, love.", he watched her perfect face admiringly. "Are you sure you're all right with letting him stay with us?"

She slowly sat up, took his face in her hands, smiling her irresistible smile.

"It's what we have to do, honey. He deserves someone who cares and I'm more than willing to take over that role. We'll both be there for him.", she said gently and kissed the tip of his nose.

Peter smiled back, smelling her sweet scent.

"I didn't expect anything else from you. What have I done to deserve you?", he asked once more, slightly stroking her cheek.

"You're just my perfect husband, Peter. I love that gentle side of you. I already knew it was there, under the hard FBI agent's shell.", she said and snuggled up against him.

Peter went on stroking her hair.

"It won't be easy, you know that, right?", he asked, deep in thoughts now.

"Well, I suppose I got that after all that had happened.", she was still smiling, her eyes closed.

"I've never seen someone so troubled before. He's in such a bad shape, mentally and physically, I'm not even sure we or anyone else can help him to process what he went through.", Peter said quietly.

His wife looked up and met his eyes. "It depends on him, Peter. I'm very sure that even after all he went through, we could make a hell of a difference. But he has to allow it. And all we can do is try!", she said, sounding very matter-of-factly.

Peter nodded and sighted heavily.

"Every time we're making some kind of progress, a step forward, something happens, and it feels like we're back at the start.", he admitted.

"It may feel like that, Peter, but look at all that happened lately. He's beginning to trust you, even though you sometimes have to accept step backwards. He went through hell most of his life and you can't just change the effects in a few days. Besides, you have to acknowledge that he is in a difficult position. You're the one who could send him back to prison with a snap of your fingers, the one who represents law, while he grew up in a criminal milieu, where the FBI is the enemy. You'll always be a threat to him as well as someone to trust and to look up to. That's not an easy task for both of you.", she was now looking at him with a serious expression in her face.

"But we'll try, Peter. Our very best!"

She kissed him gently on his mouth.

And Peter knew that, as always, his beloved wife was right. He just hoped they could make a difference!


When he finally entered the prison gates to pick Neal up, he had a bad feeling it wouldn't go that smoothly.

And he was right.

Mr Finnigan was already wating for him and he looked pleased, which immediately irritated Peter.

"Mr. Burke… oh, I'm so sorry, AGENT Burke, welcome back!", he snarled with a superior grin.

Peter felt sick just at the sight of him.

"I'm here to pick Caffrey up, is he ready?", he came straight to the point.

"Actually… no! He isn't.", the warden's grin grew even wider.

Peter frowned.

"What do you mean, Mr. Finnigan? I've got all the right papers in my back. Mr. Caffrey is in MY custody now and I have evry right to take him with me!", he said sharply.

Unfortunately, the smile in the warden's face didn't vanish.

"I won't let him go, not today!", he replied.

Peter started to say something, leaning forward in his chair. Mr. Finnigan raised his hands.

"Let me explain, AGENT Burke.", he obviously enjoyed the whole situation and Peter was already fuming.

"Mr. Caffrey, like I already said, is a pain in the ass. He caused nothing but trouble in here. After his night in the infirmary, he came back into his wing and was immediately caught up in another brawl. A boy was badly injured."

Peter shook his head.

"And…what? You think Caffrey did that? Have you ever looked at him?", the agent yelled aghast.

"Well… no! We don't think that he stabbed the other boy, because that's what happened. There were four of them involved and we are quite certain that we know who did the stabbing.", the warden admitted.

Peter shook his head in disbelief again.

"So, what's the problem?", he wanted to know, slowly losing his patience.

"They're not talking. Not a single one of them!", the warden shrugged and grinned again.

"So, as long as we don't know what happened, your precious boy will stay locked up in solitary confinement."

Peter watched him intensely for a few seconds.

"Mr. Finnigan. I'll not go without Mr. Caffrey, which is my bloody right.", he pulled out all his paperwork and slapped them on the warden's desk.

"As you can see, Mr. Caffrey won't be free. I'll be responsible for his supervision and he'll wear a tracking anklet, 24/7. As you said, no one is assuming he's behind the incident with that poor boy. So… if you don't want to get in trouble with the Marshals and the whole FBI, you better let him go with me!", he said sternly, as calm es he could.

Peter was pleased to finaly see the smile slowly fading from the guard's face. They both stared at each other, until Mr. Finnigan clenched his fist and gave up.

"Johnson!", he bellowed.

A frail guard with thick glasses entered the room immediately.

"Yes Mr. Finnigan?", he eagerly asked.

"Take the agent to Caffrey.", he demanded.

He threw Peter one last, icy glance.

"I hope that I won't ever be touch with you OR that troublemaker again."

Peter looked at him disparagingly.

"Believe me, I absolutely feel the same way!", he said and turned on his heels to follow the guard without another word.


It felt like an endless wrong path through the prison corridors.

The young man watched him warily from time to time.

"You know", he finally said "Neal isn't a bad kid. I like him. His manners are remarkable. That's nothing quite usual in here. But he's a cocky one, too. Drove many of my colleagues insane."

Peter nodded, that sounded a lot like Caffrey. He smiled slightly.

"Listen…", the young man sounded a little nervous now. "I suppose I shouldn't tell you but… he was pretty upset when we put him in his cell two days ago. The doctor went in twice and injected something to calm him down."

Peter looked at him, disbelievingly, and groaned. "Brilliant! Something to worry on top!"

They finally reached a solid locking door. The guard shrugged apologetically and turned the key around.

"You can wait outside!", he said uncertain.

Peter shook his head.

"No, it's all right, I want to talk to him first. I'll get in touch when we're ready.", he said and entered the gloomy room.


There was a plank bed, a small iron table with a screwed stool and a toilet without any privacy.

It took him a moment to get used to the darkness. He could see a narrow orange shape with legs drawn up sitting on the plank bed. His head was leaning against the back wall, his eyes half closed.

"I'm still alive! And I don't want to eat ... so please go.", Neal blurred silently.

Peter went closer and sat down on the stool opposite Neal.

"Not even a delicious meal that my wife conjures up for both of us?", he said, smiling half-heartedly.

Neal raised his head, fully opened his eyes with, what seemed to be, a lot of effort and watched him warily. He once more couldn't believe his eyes.

"Peter?", his speech slurred.

"Yes, it's me. I'm here to take you out of this place. Hopefully for good!", he said, leaning forward to look at the young boy carefully.

He had a nasty wound on his left cheek and a dark blue bruise over his eyebrow. His hair looked unkempt, he had dark circles under his eyes, which were staring at him with a blank look, his face expressionless. He had trouble to hold his head up.

"I'm sorry they did that to you.", Peter silently said. Neal remained quiet for quite a while, then found his strength to answer.

"You really came.", he simply said.

Peter smiled again. "Yes. I promised, didn't I?"

Neal didn't react.

"I don't want to stay here.", he admitted flatly, resting his head against the wall again, staring into space.

"You don't have to, kiddo! We're heading home now!", Peter said gently.

Neal turned his head slightly, looked him in the eyes.

"Thank you, Peter!", he said silently, smiling slightly.