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

CHAPTER 8

Mozzie stood still watching as Neal made his way to the meeting place. He had been waiting for him and was glad that the kid still had enough skills to elude the Suit for a rendezvous. He walked at a delicate pace and never got to anywhere before the allotted time, but he'd made an exception so he could observe his young friend arrive.

Neal looked a bit pale, his bruises where fading, and his tired face and slow movements didn't escape his notice. The kid might be able to con everyone else, but not him. Not when he'd seen him at his worse. Contemplating the state of his young companion brought back to memories of how Neal looked when he had first met him. He always looked so sick back then.

Mozzie had found Neal nearly four years ago. He had been trying to locate a person and had been searching underground in some unpleasant neighborhoods. Neal had been crashing in an abandoned building where homeless people usually gathered. Mozzie hadn't taken notice of him immediately, but his interest had spiked when he saw him picking pockets around the park he usually worked in. The kid was good, so he followed him back one day. He approached him and after some deliberation on Neal's part they started working together. Mozzie needed an astute and ingenious companion in crime and Neal needed to eat. It was a win-win situation. The boy did superb work and didn't complain about anything.

After a few weeks, Mozzie got to their usual meeting place and found Neal drawing on a used up notebook. He was amazed at the potential and decided it was time to take the kid out of the hellhole he was living in. He offered him a place to stay, but Neal declined the offer. So, Mozzie left him alone. It had been about a month since their first meeting, when he found the kid, sitting with his backpack, waiting for him. Neal didn't mention how he had gotten the horrible bruises in his face and Mozzie didn't ask. He took the kid home with him that day.

It was easy living with Neal. The boy had been living alone for six months and was very independent. He was also so charming that for the first time Mozzie didn't mind living with someone else. Eventually, they got into a routine. Mozzie gave him books, taught him card tricks, street scams, and how to forge paintings and bonds. They went to museums, played chess, and cultivated their minds. The kid was smarter than anyone he had ever met before.

Neal slowly got his health back and he stopped getting sick that often after some months with him, but he didn't let anyone touch him. Mozzie recalled how it took such a long time to get in, to really get past Neal's defenses. It had been hard work. Neal never talked about his past. When they first met he just told him his parents were dead. Mozzie didn't ask him anything else, but he eventually put together what had happened, and a long time after that, Neal finally confided the truth to him. By mutual understanding they never talked about it again.

The panic attack frequency had been starling at first. The first time Neal almost got caught stealing Mozzie thought the kid was dying. He stood in an alley holding the unresponsive boy in his arms and it scared the crap out of him. That was the first panic attack he witnessed, but it wasn't the last one. After a while he learned to help Neal breathe and control de panic. Mozzie understood what happened in Neal's life, why the kid was the way he was. He understood why the panic attacks happened, but it was still hard to watch the kid go through them and not being able to do anything beyond being there for him.

Mozzie shook his head trying to get the horrible images of his young friend suffering from his mind. Whatever had happened in the last few days, he did look better than when he had found him that first time. He looked at the time again and made his way over to Neal.

"Restricted freedom suits you kid."

"Mozz," Neal said making his way towards him with a smile. He gave the man a tight hug and looked him over. Mozzie was twenty eight years old, but he looked a bit older. What little hair he still had was cut short. He wore quirky glasses and a scarf around his neck.

"How are you man? I couldn't believe when I found out you were going to live with the Man."

"I'm fine, Mozz. Apparently I'm the Bureau's latest charity case."

"Let me see it then." Mozzie and Neal moved over to a bench and the man sat down while the boy lifted his pants to reveal the anklet underneath.

Mozzie shook his head. He took something out of his pocket and handed it to Neal. "Here, there's a different phone number for every day of the week on speed dial. Use it if you need to contact me."

"Thanks Moz." Neal pocketed the phone and started pacing in front of the bench. Mozzie waited for him to say something.

"I need to get this thing off me," Neal said after a while.

"You're lucky Neal, two miles is a lot in New York City."

"Can you get it off?"

Mozzie looked at the boy in front of him and shook his head again. "I can't, mon frère. You've flied too close to the sun and burned your wings."

"Can you just keep working on it? I don't think I'll be able to stay here for long."

"The Suit and his wife treating you okay?" asked Mozzie apprehensively.

"Yeah, the Burkes, they are good people, but I have to watch my back. I just can't stay here. You know why."

"Adler. He'll be looking for us." Neal nodded.

Vincent Adler was a problem. The man was powerful and dangerous. They first met him about two years ago. Kate, Mozzie, and Neal had started working on forgeries for him. The pay was good and it consisted of very straightforward jobs, until about a year ago. Adler had started looking actively for an amber music box. Things had gotten exponentially more dangerous when he commissioned for them to steal the music box. They had done big jobs before, but nothing like breaking into an Italian Consulate. They did it though; they got the music box, handed it to Adler and tried walking away afterwards. It didn't work. Adler had gone quiet about the music box, but he still expected them to continue with his series of forged paintings and thefts. Then, Neal had been caught and Kate…

"What happened, Mozz?" Neal lifted his head and gave him a pained look. "What happened to Kate?"

Mozzie dropped his gaze. He knew this was coming. They hadn't talked about it while Neal was in Juvie, but he had seen the desperation and pain in the kid's eyes when he first told him that his girlfriend had been killed.

"She's gone, man."

Neal sat down beside him on the bench and put his head in his hands.

"After that last job everything went to hell. You were caught and Kate and I tried to disappear but I didn't get to her in time. Adler's men found her… It was quick, she didn't suffer... I'm really sorry Neal."

"Yeah," Neal said quietly. "I just, I should never have left her alone. I should never have let her work with us. She got killed because of me…"

"Hey kid, that's not true. You know it's not and you can't blame yourself."

Neal looked the other way and remained quiet. Mozzie knew what he was thinking. The kid had serious abandonment and trust issues. All his hard work during the past years trying to get him to trust someone seemed to have gotten a giant setback after the last few months. Neal had all his walls back up. It was his way to survive.

"Neal, you didn't leave her, and she didn't leave you willingly, okay? She loved you man."

"Yeah, Mozz," he repeated, "I know."

Mozzie looked at his watch one more time and noticed almost an hour had passed. The kid better get going if he wanted to get back unnoticed.

"You should get back Neal." Neal nodded and stood up.

"What's going to happen? Does Adler know where I am?" Neal asked.

"No word on the street yet. You're safe for now. Just stay out of trouble. If something comes up I'll take care of it." Neal looked skeptical but he trusted Mozzie. Well, he trusted him as much as he'd ever trusted anyone.

"Meet me here, same time tomorrow." Mozzie got up, put his hat on and turned to leave.

"I'll see what I can find out about the anklet. Take care, kid."

Life with the Burkes was easy, kind of his life with Mozzie, but very different at the same time. Neal felt a sense of security and authority like he never had before. He had been with Peter and Elizabeth for two weeks now. He had managed to build up his walls as high as possible. He had taken precautions. They might be good people, they might treat him better than anyone else, but he just couldn't let them in… This was not permanent. Peter and Elizabeth weren't his parents. They would take him back, this was temporary…this, whatever this was, couldn't last. No one ever lasted. No… there was no way he could let them in….

His job in the FBI so far had consisted in acting as a snitch. He'd told them practically everything he knew about Adler and his operations. He'd told them everything with the exception of the music box. They had agreed with Mozzie that the music box was too much trouble.

Neal had been sneaking away almost every day in the morning to meet Mozzie in the same park they used the first time. They were in the middle of a discussion one morning when they heard someone clearing his throat behind them.

They both turned around to look at Peter Burke.

AN: Thank you once again for your wonderful reviews and for any constructive criticism.

This chapter kind of focused on Neal's past, but what really happened to him wasn't revealed. It'll come up again. We'll get back to the action in the next chapter!