~ o O o ~

A Place Called Home

Chapter 6

~ o O o ~

Neal was aimlessly walking down the night streets of New York. He had no idea where to go or what to do. All he had was the clothes he was wearing and a duffel bag with his stuff. Earlier, he had stopped by Keller's place, which had never felt like home, even though he had lived there for over a year.

Among the essentials for surviving his duffel bag contained were a bunch of fake IDs—some of which claimed he was of age. He could check into a hotel for the night, pay cash, and pick a few pockets tomorrow. He only had the ten bucks left that he had taken from Peter that very first day they met and a couple of twenties that he had taken out of Peter's wallet right before he left. He had felt oddly guilty about taking the money, even though it wasn't like it would hurt Peter—he could spare forty bucks. But he would probably be disappointed when he found out that Neal had broken the one rule he had laid down.

He should probably leave the city. He had never had any problems leaving part of his life behind. He would just take on a new alias and make a new life for himself. And it was high time he did that, getting away from Keller, from feds who would put him in juvie if they knew half of what he had done.

But thinking back to the day in the park, playing with Satch and even Peter, he felt very lonely all of a sudden and all he wanted was to be back in his room. But it wasn't his room, it was just some fed's guestroom. Neal put his duffel bag down and sat down next to it on the sidewalk, burying his head in his arms.

He had never needed anyone to take care of him. At least not for a very long time. But it had been kind of nice not having to go out and pick pockets in order to buy something to eat. Just coming home from a fun day in the park and having dinner like it was the most normal thing in the world instead. Which had been nice, but also kind of scary. It had made him feel . . . something, which in return had only allowed the one choice: He had had to leave as fast as possible!

But now, here, all alone sitting on some sidewalk with no idea where to run, he started to realize that he hadn't really thought it through. Lying in his warm bed, not having to worry about cops picking him up or where to go and which alias to use sounded perfect right about now. And there was no way that the Burkes had already realized he was gone—he had waited until he was sure they were asleep.

So, he could just sneak back in and no one would be any the wiser. He could always make his escape at a later time, once he had a better plan. Once he had had a good night's sleep in a place he felt safe.

Making a decision, Neal stood up and made his way back.

~ o O o ~

Climbing down the rain water downpipe had been a lot easier than trying and climb back up. Neal was about to give up and just pick the lock and enter through the front door, when the porch light suddenly came on. Startled, Neal lost his footing, fell down the one foot he had managed to climb up the side of the house, and landed on his ass.

He scrambled back up and dusted off his trousers, before slowly looking up at the front door, where Peter stood, hands on his hips. Long seconds ticked by as they looked at each other in silence. Then, without saying a word, Peter held the door open and Neal quickly grabbed his duffel bag and ducked under Peter's arm to enter the house.

As soon as he was inside, Peter rounded on him. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Out," Neal replied casually and shrugged his shoulders. "Why? What's up?"

"What's up? What's up?!" Peter repeated incredulously and really, there was no reason for him to yell at Neal like that. Or for his face to turn as red as it did, for that matter. "I have half the FBI out looking for you, that's 'what's up.'"

"Geez, calm down," Neal said, putting his hands in his jeans pockets and thus mirroring Peter's stance with his hands on his hips in a more casual manner. "What's the big deal? I was just going for a walk."

"In the middle of the night!"

"So?"

Peter's eyes found the duffel bag at Neal's feet and he gave an exasperated huff. "You went back to Keller's place?!"

"Your agents didn't even see me sneak in. Or out."

"Is that somehow supposed to make it better?"

"Well, yeah. I didn't disturb any surveillance," Neal defended himself. "And I told you, Keller won't go back there anyway."

"So, when I said 'No,' what you heard was 'Yeah, go right ahead and do it yourself, in the middle of the night?!'"

Neal shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Unbelievable!"

"Wait a second. You can't be mad at me! I didn't even break any of your 'house rules.' I didn't steal anything!"

Neal's finger found the two twenties in his jeans pocket and he tried to look for someplace to put them. It didn't really count as stealing, since he had changed his mind, so he had technically only borrowed the money.

In that moment, Elizabeth, who had probably heard all the yelling, joined them with a "Thank God you're okay!" which distracted Peter for a second, so that Neal could inconspicuously put the money into a nearby drawer.

But Peter wasn't distracted for long. "'Don't sneak out of the house without telling anyone, especially in the middle of the night' was kind of a given!" he continued yelling at him.

"Well then you should have said so! Don't blame me if you weren't specific enough."

Peter shook his head exasperatedly. "I don't have time for this. We actually have to get up early tomorrow. You—" He waved his finger in Neal's face for emphasis. "—are grounded till the end of time. Now off to bed with you!"

"What?" Neal huffed out an incredulous laugh. "You can't ground me."

"I think I just did."

"Keller never grounded me." And now Neal really started to get irritated himself. "He let me stay out as long as I wanted!"

"Missing the days when you were living with a murderer, huh?"

"Boys?" El tried to cut in, but Neal talked right over her.

"At least he didn't make me feel like I'm in prison!"

"Boys!"Again, they both ignored her.

"Which is where you're gonna end up if you keep going down the path you're on right now!"

El whistled through her teeth, which finally stopped Neal and Peter's shouting match.

"Yelling at each other is not the answer here. It's two fifteen in the morning. You should call off the search party, hon, and then we can all go to bed. Calm down, talk about it tomorrow."

"But I didn't even—," Neal started, but Peter cut him off, this time in a low but authoritative voice.

"If you don't want to spend the night in lock-up, you'll get your ass up there, right now!"

"Fine!" Neal stomped upstairs, but turned around halfway up. "I didn't have to come back at all, you know?!" With that he continued his way to his room, ignoring Peter's, "What is that even supposed to mean?!" and slamming the door shut behind him.

~ o O o ~

Even though it had already been a long night, it turned out it was not over yet. Neal was once again plagued by awful dreams of Keller trying to slice him open. Images of blood dripping off the blade of a knife and a feeling of being watched; Keller telling him that he was next, that he couldn't run from him.

For the second night in a row he was embarrassed to realize that he had yelled for Peter in his sleep, which was even more embarrassing in light of their earlier fight. But Peter only turned on the bedside lamp and sat down next to him on his bed. He mumbled things like, It's okay, and You're safe here, until Neal had calmed down, and then he sat there for a while longer, neither of them saying anything. But just Peter's presence was enough to make Neal feel safe, and because it had been such a long day—and night—Neal fell asleep again very quickly.

TBC . . .

I hope everyone who asked for it got the surprise? If I accidentally forgot you, let me know.

Again, thank you so much for your reviews. They mean the world to me. It only takes you a minute to write one and you have no idea how happy that would make me.