AN: Thanks for all the reviews and alerts! I should probably mention that I don't have a Beta and all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.

CHAPTER 2

Peter returned to his house that day feeling more conflicted that he'd been in a long time. Neal Caffrey was an enigma to him. He just couldn't fight the thought running through his head.

He's just a kid. Fifteen, just a kid...

What had happened to Caffrey to make him go into a life of crime? Something was definitely wrong with the system if they had let an eleven year old live by himself in the streets. No wonder he had turned to a criminal life to survive. Nonetheless, he was a criminal now. He couldn't trust him, of that much he was sure. He was a con. The only problem was that if he didn't get another break in this case soon, then he'd have to go back to Caffrey and do the dance all over again. The kid wouldn't want to talk, again, and he'd be left with nothing. Again.

Peter was sitting in his dining room table going over Caffrey's files when he heard the door open and Satchmo got up from his place near the sofa to greet his wife.

"Hi honey," Elizabeth said in a cheerful voice looking over the papers spread around the table and reaching over to kiss her husband.

"Hey El. How was your day?" Peter lifted his head to kiss her as she pulled her arms around him in a hug.

"A bit frantic. One of the places where we order flower arrangements got robbed last night and they won't be able to finish the orders we had for this weekend, so I spent half the morning going to other places and trying to arrange everything for the Martin wedding on Saturday." Elizabeth waited for Peter to say something but he seemed absorbed in the file he was reading.

"How about you hon? How was your day?" she asked as she sat down beside him.

"Mmm? Well, we finally got a break on that big art forgery case," Peter answered, still reading the file on his hand.

"That's great honey," said Elizabeth watching him closely. Peter frowned at something he read on the file. "It's not great?" she asked.

Peter put down the file and turned to face Elizabeth. "Well, it's not what I expected. We'd been keeping watch over 3 museums over the last week. I had a hunch that one of them would be the next target. Yesterday we struck luck and caught one of the criminals with an impeccable forgery and the original painting that was being stolen."

"That's good then. You finally have a lead to investigate who's behind all of this."

"It's just not what I expected, I guess. The policemen saw three people, but they only caught one: fifteen year old Neal Caffrey. I went to see him today at Crossroads Juvenile Center." Peter explained.

El frowned at the unexpected information. "Fifteen? What was he doing there? Where are his parents?"

"No parents. His dad was a dirty cop that died in a shooting when he was two. Caffrey probably doesn't even remember him. His mom was shot by a mugger on her way back home from work when he was eleven. He's been living with God knows who for the last four years. Apparently he's kept busy building up a criminal career as well." Peter looked perplexed; there had to be something more to the story.

"So he's not telling you what you want to know?"

Peter shook his head. "No. He wouldn't say…anything, which doesn't make any sense. He's already caught. He's been to Juvie before so this is his second offence. He'll be locked up until he's eighteen for this. If he talks then I can get him a deal."

El raised her eyebrows. "So, if he talks he gets less time in jail and then a foster group home for delinquents?"

"Yes. Either way it doesn't look good for him. He's smart, El. He's got to know that a foster home is better than where he is now." Peter moved some papers around and started going through one file while he talked to El. "In the same holding area with Caffrey there's a seventeen year old charged with the attempted murder of a pregnant woman, a fifteen year old sentenced for beating to death another teen, a fourteen year old convicted for murdering his father with a hammer…"

Peter lifted some of the papers in the folder while he scanned them. "Teenagers in for murder, robbery, assault, rape, drug offenders…" He let the papers drop on the table and rested his head in his hands. He couldn't go on. He knew that White Collar crimes where the 'elegant' type of crimes, but that didn't mean a thing inside prison.

"I've read every file on him. Caffrey might be a liar and a con but he's not violent. I don't think I want that to change. Why won't he talk El? He's smart, smarter than a lot of the Harvard probies around the FBI."

She grabbed his hand and started rubbing small circles on it with her thumb. "If he's that smart then he knows that someone outside is watching him. You said he's got a boss somewhere that's behind all of this? Neal probably knows that nothing good will come out of ratting him out. He'll probably be in more trouble than he already is in Juvie," she concluded.

"El, I don't know how I got to marry someone so smart." Peter smiled and reached over to give her a kiss. She kissed him back and got up to get dinner ready. Peter watched her leave and continued going over the files. He needed to catch a new break with this case. He would have to go back to talk with Caffrey.

Neal stared at his ceiling. He felt cold, despite the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders. He was hurting again. It had been 3 weeks since they've caught him, 20 days since he'd turned down Agent Burke's offer. Less time in Juvie for selling out Adler, it was starting to look like a sweet deal after all.

Keller and his goons: Stupid, Jackass and Dumbass – as he referred to them in his mind - had been treating him like a human punching bag ever since he entered Crossroads. He'd been in the infirmary four times in 21 days. Neal thought it was almost as if they were trying to make him hurt slowly. They hadn't managed to break anything yet and the doctor wasn't worried about extensive damage, but his bruised ribs, arms and face begged to differ with his assessment. Neal had tried everything that had come to his mind to get out of their way. He'd stayed inside his cell every single time he could, but he couldn't avoid breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the common hall. They liked to steal his food, and Neal couldn't remember a time when he'd felt more hungry and hurt in his life.

Alone. You feel alone, he thought. But he'd always felt alone. He'd spent most of his life alone. Mozzie hadn't visited him yet. Not that Neal had ever thought he would. He'd sent a letter a day, every time with a different fake address. Neal knew he shouldn't respond to any of the letters anyway.

The plan was almost finished. A small guy who was known for getting and distributing contraband inside had brought him a package yesterday. It contained street clothes (a pair of jeans, tennis shoes, a faded blue t-shirt, a black hoodie sweater, and a baseball cap), there was an electronic access card, and a paper labeled "Instructions". He had read through the plan more times than he could think of. He'd memorized the steps and had then flushed the paper down the toilet.

Thank God for Mozzie. Everything was ready for his escape the next day.

Neal tried not to think about it, but he knew things were getting too hard for him to handle. He knew what happened when he was too anxious... The beatings were getting harder to avoid. He'd been passing out more than he usually did. He couldn't take three years of this. He couldn't take another day of this. Mathew Keller had warned him the last time they saw each other, after Kate had joined Mozzie and him to work for Adler. It had been her choice.

Mathew Keller was in for murder. He'd killed three security guards after stealing some paintings from the Channing. Kate had dumped Keller six months before she'd ever even seen Neal, but that didn't deter Keller from forming an unusually strong dislike towards him.

It didn't matter at the end…Kate was dead.

Neal closed his eyes and tried to remember her smile, the fruity smell of her hair, her gorgeous blue eyes, and her wonderful laugh. She had been a friend. His girlfriend. One of the only persons in his life he'd ever cared about. One of the only ones who'd cared about him. Mozzie had explained it in a letter, and Neal still couldn't believe that he would never see her again. Adler's men had shot her after they had messed up their last job. He was caught and she was dead. Mozzie was too good to get caught by either the suits or Adler, so Kate had paid the price for their failure.

He tossed around in his bed and turned to face the wall. It was night and hardly any light made itself through the window above him.

I didn't even say goodbye. She didn't say goodbye. She just...left…

He turned around and wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

Tomorrow. I'll get the hell away from here tomorrow and everything will be okay.

He felt tired. He closed his eyes and tried to rest, even though he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep.

Neal sat down for a few seconds to compose himself. It was visiting hours during Saturday. It was the busiest time of the week and little attention was put to the ones that stayed in their cells. He grabbed the bag with the clothes from inside the toilet and dried it off with a towel. He opened it and took out the security card, but left the clothes. He pulled down the zipper from the orange jumpsuit and put the bag with the clothes inside. He had a bit of trouble zipping it back up, but he managed it. Neal thought he probably looked like a chubby kid in clothes way too tight. He sat back down in his bed and waited.

He stayed there expectantly, his breathing getting faster again, until he heard his cell door click open. Neal looked carefully outside to see if anyone had noticed a door opening but there wasn't anyone near his cell and if some of his neighbors heard, they didn't seem to care. He left and walked as normally as he could down the corridor. The last thing he needed was someone to spot him running in the surveillance cameras. He hid behind a turn in the next passageway and waited for a CO to pass with a small kid that looked scared out of his wits. He walked in the opposite direction and made his way to the laundry room.

He held the security access card in his hand. He held it up and swapped it through. The little flashing light turned green and he quickly stepped inside. It was a big place but there was no one inside at the moment. They had an hour for lunch break. He followed a small clearing between the washing machines all the way to another door. He swapped the card and went through. The food company's truck was parked a few feet away as promised. He looked both ways, walked over, opened the back door to the truck, got inside, and closed it behind him. It was a big truck and he made his way to the end behind some boxes. He took out the bag of clothes and changed. He pushed his hair back and put the cap on.

He sat down to wait and five minutes later he heard muffled voices from outside, then some doors slamming and the truck being started. He felt it move and smiled.

Thanks Mozz.

He was on his way to freedom at last.