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

CHAPTER 7

"Breathe, buddy..."

Neal raised his head and tried to say something but he could only keep on trying to catch his breath. Peter banged on the door and called for the guard. He grabbed Neal and lifted him up in his arms. The kid was light as a feather and Peter could feel the small bumps of his spine.

The guard opened the door and Peter went through immediately, carrying Neal.

"Where's the infirmary?"

The big guy took one look at Neal in Peter's arms and started off without a word down the corridor. They went through five doors until they finally made it to the infirmary. Neal had gone completely limp a few minutes ago and had closed his eyes, but at least he was breathing normally now.

He placed Neal carefully in a hospital bed in the middle of a room and brushed the kid's hair out of his eyes carefully. He stepped away when an older man came into the room and went directly to Neal. He checked his pulse, watched his pupillary response, listened to his heart and lungs and finally turned around to address Peter.

"He'll be fine."

Peter released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The kid will be okay.

"What happened to him?" Peter asked.

"Excuse me, but I can't discuss Mr. Caffrey's medical information with you," the doctor replied dryly.

"I'm Special Agent Peter Burke, FBI. I came to take Caffrey out of here. I'm in charge of him now." He took a folded paper from his jacket and handed it over to the other man.

"I see," the man said going over to his desk at the end of the room. Peter followed him, reluctantly leaving Neal behind in the bed.

"Mr. Caffrey has been in Crossroads for little over a month and he hasn't had a very good record here. He's been in the infirmary four times, but the guards didn't bring him in because of the beatings." Peter didn't interrupt him and he continued explaining. "You see, Mr. Caffrey tends to faint after panic attacks. It's not very common but it tends to happen, especially with kids and teenagers."

"He gets panic attacks?" Peter asked surprised.

"I've come to the conclusion that Mr. Caffrey has suffered them for quite a while, even before he came into Crossroads. He hasn't offered any information on the topic, but it looks like he knows what is going on and tries to hide it. Panic attacks are periods of intense fear or apprehension that are of sudden onset and of relatively brief duration. They begin abruptly and reach a peak within 10 minutes. They are intensely frightening, upsetting and uncomfortable. He feels faint, sometimes nauseated." The doctor paused and reached for a folder in his desk and started going through it while he talked to Peter.

"Mr. Caffrey's breathing and heart beat get faster. The attacks commonly include trembling, hot and cold flashes, sweating, dizziness, shortness of breath, tingling or numbing sensations in his hands, difficulty moving and derealization. Panic attacks are frequently due to predisposed genetics, but significant causes like the kind of emotional drama Mr. Caffrey has suffered has done nothing to help him. He won't get better because he won't talk about anything that's happened to him," he finished, taking off his glasses and looking at Peter in the eyes.

"So, how often do they happen?" Peter asked.

"Agent Burke, you need to understand that Mr. Caffrey is very resilient. He never complains and never tells anyone he's not doing well. His charm is the biggest part of the walls he puts up, but he's still a kid. When he gets anxious or stressed he gets panic attacks. When things are too much to handle, his mind has learned to shut down. He goes somewhere else. He avoids pain completely."

Peter looked back at Neal's small frame in the bed. "I'll be taking him home with me today," he said authoritatively. "What am I supposed to do if this happens again?"

"You really can't do much. There are some breathing exercises, but mainly you should just be there for him. Give him a reason to come back. Try to get him to talk to you. I think part of the problem is he's never opened up before and the situation hasn't been ideal for him to get over this."

"I understand." Peter got up. "I'll take all of Caffrey's records with me. Doctor?"

"Dr. Powell. You may take Mr. Caffrey now. He'll wake up when he's ready."

Peter looked at the boy sleeping beside him in his car. He had just parked in front of his house and had turned to look at Neal in the passenger seat. El wouldn't be pleased if he brought in Neal in this state.

He sighed and looked out the window. The kid needed them more than he had thought at first. He had noticed the flinches and the shortness of breath before. Now he knew why it happened. He had panic attacks. Not only had Neal never mentioned it but he hadn't said anything about how hard it had been in Juvie either.

Based on what he had read in the records Dr. Powell had provided, it was some kind of personal grudge between that Keller guy and Neal. It looked like he was the reason Neal was too thin as well. The friendly guard that had accompanied him inside Crossroads had told him later that Neal hadn't gotten a single break from Keller and his goons in all his time there. They liked to steal his food. Neal hadn't complained to anyone. If he had said something to me I could have done something, Peter thought a bit guiltily. Neal hadn't said anything, but he should have figured it out. He should have protected him.

Peter tried to remember what he had been like when he was fifteen. That year he'd been worried about school and about getting a place in the baseball team. His dad had helped him practice every day that summer after he came home from work. They had stayed outside and played until the sun went down and his mom called them in for dinner. He smiled. His childhood had been a good one. Neal's on the other hand –

"Peter."

He turned around to see that Neal had finally woken up and was looking around trying to get his bearings. Neal surveyed outside and finally settled back into his seat. "We're at your place."

"Hey kid, you had me worried there for a minute." He paused. "So, you have panic attacks." It was a statement not a question.

Neal plastered in a fake smile quickly. "They're not that serious, Peter. It just happens when I haven't had enough sleep or feel a bit stressed," Neal said trying to play down what had actually happened.

"What happened to you in there? Did you really think I was going to leave you after I just said that I would bring you home with me? I wouldn't joke about something like that. You have to know that kid."

"I don't know what happened. I guess I'm just tired." Of course he was tired, but he had also been scared. He had been scared of being left behind once more. He was scared that Peter couldn't trust him enough and decided he wasn't worth the trouble. He was here now, though.

"Common, let's get inside. Elizabeth has been waiting impatiently for you." Peter got out and walked around the car while Neal stirred to get out as well.

He felt it for the first time. Someone must have changed his clothes because he was dressed in comfortable Dockers and a button down shirt. He lifted his pants on his left leg carefully and inspected what was beneath it. The tracking anklet was secured to his ankle and had a small bright green light indicating it was activated and he was within his radius.

Beats Juvie, he thought as he followed Peter to his new accommodations.

Elizabeth and Satchmo had welcomed him wholeheartedly. She had made him a special dinner. He tried to eat, but he had practically been starving himself for the last few days and he couldn't think he could keep everything inside if he ate too much. So he politely complemented her cooking but had only managed to eat a little bit. Peter had been mysteriously quiet during dinner. He hadn't mentioned what happened to his wife and he hadn't said anything to Neal either. He seemed content on keeping quiet, so Neal let him and talked with Elizabeth.

After dinner, she had taken him up to the guest room and Neal was surprised to see that she had added some things. There was a small television in a corner, a writing desk with a small lamp and a laptop on top. The bed had blue and grey sheets and a new comforter. There were stacks of books arranged in shelves in the wall.

She opened the closet and showed him where she had put some clothes she bought. There were new socks, underwear, pajamas, regular clothes, a new pair of shoes, and deodorant and all the bathroom implements he needed.

"I bought some things for you, but I'll take you shopping tomorrow so you can pick up some other things you might want. There are new towels in the bathroom."

"Thank you Elizabeth, but I think everything here is more than enough. I don't really want anything else." Neal felt uncomfortable. Apart from Mozzie, no one had ever really taken care of his needs before. No one had cared.

"Don't be silly Neal, of course you need more things than these." She gave him a mischievous smile and added, "Plus, I really love shopping." Neal had laughed at her words.

The next day Peter stood looking at the boy sleeping peacefully in the guest room. I guess its Neal's room now, he thought. The kid looked tired and he hadn't moved positions all night. Peter had checked on him six times during the night and Neal hadn't stirred once. It was Saturday, and he didn't have to go to work. His wife had sat down with him to breakfast and he had told her everything that had happened yesterday. He explained Neal's panic attacks and his weird fainting spells. It was some kind of defense mechanism. When things where too much, he protected himself. He removed himself from the situation.

El was upset at the news. She recalled her visit to Juvie and the way Neal had slumped down and done that same unresponsive thing when she had left. There must be another way for him to deal with things, and she resolved that they would do everything necessary to help him.

Neal woke up very late that day. He turned to look at the alarm clock in the nightstand and was startled when he saw that it was almost one in the afternoon. Had he really slept for more than twelve hours? Why hadn't Peter or Elizabeth woken him up?

After making his bed and grabbing a shower, Neal made his way downstairs and caught Peter and Elizabeth having lunch. He greeted them and he sat down in the third place set on Peter's right and helped himself to some food.

"So, Peter, when do we have to start work?" Neal said after offering Elizabeth a broad smile.

"We start on Monday. I have to take you in for a statement on the heist you pulled off and any information you might have. After that, you'll help us figure out where to find whoever is behind this. You'll stay here with us until we solve the case."

"What happens when we catch him?" Neal asked. What happens to me?

"I don't know. I'll do everything I can so they don't put you back in." Peter responded.

"But?"

"But I can't do anything if you screw up. If you run again, you're back in for good."

Neal nodded. He hadn't expected anything less.

"You'll have to go to school too." Elizabeth informed him.

"School? I haven't been there in a long time."

"We talked to the High School Principal. You'll have to take a test and then they'll decide where to put you. Neal, that's one of the conditions of the arrangement. It won't be too bad." Elizabeth didn't seem too concerned, but Neal thought otherwise.

He had probably learned more in the past few years than he would ever had learned in school. Mozzie taught him to play chess, gave him hundreds of books, took him to museums, bought him art supplies, and cultivated his mind. Neal wasn't sure he was ready to go back to school.

"Neal, it'll be okay. I think you'll like school. How long has it been?" she asked cautiously.

"Almost four years," he admitted reluctantly.

Elizabeth tried not to think of the reasons Neal hadn't gone to school. Where had he lived for four years? Who did an eleven year old turn to in the streets? Peter seemed to think he had someone outside, a friend who had helped him escape. She hoped that his friend had really taken care of the boy. Despite all of Neal's nonchalance and charm she couldn't help but think of him as a lost boy.

It was early next day when Neal heard a noise in his window. He got up and opened the window as noiselessly as possible. He saw a pigeon sitting in his window still and he promptly picked it up to remove the rolled up paper in the bird's leg.

McGolrick Park Shelter Pavilion. 6.

– M.

Mozzie. It was 5:30 in the morning. He had 30 minutes to get out undetected and get to the park. He'd be in trouble if the Burkes found out, but he could make it back before they woke up. It was Sunday, they would probably sleep late. He dressed up quickly and made his way outside through the window. He climbed down carefully and landed in the back yard. He jumped over the back wall and walked quickly down the street.

Neal approached the meeting place and looked at the time in the new watch Elizabeth had bought him yesterday. 5:50 am. He still had some time, Mozzie was incredibly punctual but he would never make an appearance before the appointed hour. Neal sat down on a bench in the empty park and waited for his friend.

Yesterday had been nice. Elizabeth had made him choose more clothes and he had gotten his usual formal pants and button down dress shirts, turtle necks and polo shirts. She had also gotten him the wrist watch, a new phone, and art supplies. Elizabeth had looked surprised at Neal's request for those last items and Neal had been surprised that he had even asked. Everything else had been chosen at Elizabeth's insistence, but the art supplies were the only things he actually wanted.

"Illusory freedom suits you kid."

Neal turned around excitedly and smiled when he saw his weird friend leaning against one of the Pavilion columns. He made his way over and embraced him tightly.

"Mozz."

AN: I've had some experience with pain attacks, but not panic attacks. Some of the symptoms are similar, and you can definitely tell when an attack is coming. After a while you start to fear them happening or somehow triggering them.

I don't really know if McGolrick Park is in Neal's radius. I just know it's in Brooklyn and it looked nice in the photos I Googled. So, if it isn't close, for the sake of the story, just pretend it is ;)

Thanks once again for reviewing!