AN: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Beta credit goes to: Deej1957.

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin. Poem is Emily Dickinson's.

CHAPTER 13

It was the best couple of days they had both had in quite a while. Peter and Neal spent Saturday hiking in the forests around the lake with Satchmo during the morning. They had spent the afternoon fishing again and retired after a few hours with three trouts to add to Neal's previous catch. Peter insisted on cooking them for dinner and they ate the fish until they couldn't take another bite. They were delicious.

After a late night of star gazing they slept peacefully and Peter decided that they would stay all of Sunday and return to the city early on Monday. On Sunday, they rose bright and early and drove to another hiking trail further away. It was scenic and peaceful and they stopped to eat in a local restaurant on their way back to the cabin. It started to rain late in the afternoon, and after a while, they just called it a day and gathered in the living room to play cards, drink coffee, and listen to the rain outside. Neal cheated shamelessly at every single game they tried, but they both ended up having fun and laughing comfortably. It was more a game of Peter trying to catch him cheating, and Neal trying to get away with it.

At ten pm Neal got a text message on his phone from Mozzie. The message was enough to make him fall from whatever cloud he'd been daydreaming from for the last couple of days. It was short, to the point, and it scared the hell out of Neal.

He found me. I can't get away. Need you. You know where.

It was a good thing Peter had insisted on going to sleep a couple of minutes ago, since it would have been disastrous to try to con him after reading that text. Neal's distress was almost palpable. He looked quickly at Peter's door. It was closed almost all of the way and Neal could hear Peter's steady snoring behind it. He sat up from the couch slowly and carefully, trying not to make a sound. Satchmo stirred in his corner and lifted his head to watch what Neal was doing.

It was still raining a little bit outside, but there was also some light to be seen now thatthe rain eased a little and the moon shone out. Neal stood up without hesitation, grabbed Peter's car keys from the kitchen counter and slipped out of the cabin as fast as possible. He had a sudden shock of reality when he felt the rain in his skin and under his feet. He was still in his pajama pants and a t-shirt, and he was barefoot. He shuddered and made his way quickly to the Taurus. He got in and put the key in the ignition, but didn't turn it on.

What are you doing? Neal thought after a look back at the cabin. He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand and struggled with his need to scream in frustration.

He was drenched, sitting in Peter's car, with stolen keys, and a tracking device around his ankle. There was no way he could run. He was just… restless. Mozzie's text changed everything. Whatever he had been playing before with the Burkes and the FBI, he wasn't sure the game was even on the table anymore. Adler had found them. Actually, Mozzie had said, "he found me"… what did that mean? Was he, Neal, still safe? And what did it matter if he was? Mozzie obviously wasn't… It was just a matter of time before Adler found Neal. If he found him with the Burkes… he didn't even want to consider it.

He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself. He couldn't run, it wouldn't work, not here, five hours away from the city. He'd have to go back in and steal the key to his anklet and ditch Peter's car somewhere around the closest town. It wouldn't work… He'd just have to stay and try to find Mozzie when they made it back tomorrow.

The rain finally eased and the moon was shining brightly outside. He sighed, took the keys out of the ignition, and stepped out of the car. He turned away from the cabin and slowly made his way to the edge of the lake. He stood there watching the ripples in the water from the drops of rain falling from the trees around the shore.

He really didn't have a choice. It was Mozzie. He'd get in trouble, probably, but he'd have to find a way to trick Peter and El and help Mozzie. The guilt he felt hit him like a brick to the face.

He watched the scene before him and couldn't help but whispering to himself – "I many times thought peace had come – when peace was far away. As wrecked men deem they sight the land at center of the sea." He closed his eyes and painfully tried to lull his mind. "And struggle slacker but to prove, as hopelessly as I – how many fictitious shores before the harbor be…"

Peter woke up to Satchmo's wet nose in his hand. He got up with a start and took a look at the empty couch through his half opened door.

He grabbed a sweater, slipped on some sneakers and made his way outside the door. It had stopped raining, but everything was still wet outside. He took a frantic look around the cabin and past his car, and did a quick turn around the cabin. He was about to go back in to grab his phone and a flashlight when he saw a figure standing under the shadow of a tree right on the edge of the lake.

He rapidly made his way over, stopping a few feet away. He calmed down a little bit when he confirmed his previous assessment and saw Neal there. He was completely still and had his eyes closed. For a second, Peter almost thought he could be asleep, but then a quiet sound like a gasp reached his ears and he stepped forward to pull Neal back from the edge of the water.

"Neal," Peter called out in a soothing voice.

Neal's eyes shot open at the contact of Peter's hand and the sound of his voice. Peter took a small step back after looking at Neal's face. It was a face made lifeless by dejection. Neal blinked and seemed to come to himself under Peter's presence. He stepped closer to Peter and seemed surprised when he drew his feet away rapidly after stepping on a sharp rock. Peter looked down and for the first time registered that Neal was barefoot. He grabbed him by the shoulder again and asked intensely, "Are you hurt?"

Neal looked down at his feet as if in a daze and back at Peter. "No…"

"Come here," ordered Peter. The paternal protectiveness he felt towards Neal was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He'd felt love towards Elizabeth, and it was definitely the highest sentiment he'd ever had, but this thing with a convict teenager was truly inexplicable.

Neal obeyed and followed Peter back to the cabin without another word. He stopped and handed back Peter's car keys before going inside. He changed to warm clothes in the bathroom, settled on the couch and covered himself with his blanket.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Peter asked, receiving a small nod as an answer.

He sat down in the arm chair and pulled a blanket over himself, suddenly feeling chilled despite the humidity of the summer night.

"Neal, what happened back there?" Where you thinking about running? Peter asked himself.

Neal's voice was quiet. "I just wanted to take a last look at the lake before we go back tomorrow."

"So, you decided to slip away from the cabin, without any shoes, in the middle of the night, in the rain, to look at the lake?" asked Peter incredulously.

Neal answered tiredly, "It was a reflex. I really didn't consider my attire."

"What about the car keys?"

"What about them?"

Peter was getting wound up. Neal was being insufferable, like always. "Did you just grab them for a walk through the woods?" he asked in an exasperated voice.

"They looked lonely in the counter, thought I'd give them a final look at the lake too."

Peter shook his head. "Go to sleep Neal," he said with a sigh. "Most of the time I really don't know what the hell is going on in your mind." He pulled the blanket closer and resigned himself to a night sleeping onthe chair. He certainly wasn't letting Neal out of his sight again.

"Don't screw this up," he mumbled after a while. Neal had his eyes closed and hadn't stirred since settling back on the couch. "You drowning in a lake under my watch would probably be a mountain of paperwork."

Neal listened in silence to Peter's words. It's inevitable Peter, he thought, screwing up is what I do best.

The drive home was uneventful. The tension of the night was gone and Peter was mostly worried about Neal. Hehad helped load the car and then had slept for almost the entire ride home. When they made it back to the house Peter was once again amazed at Neal's abilities. He acted completely normal and excitedly recounted to Elizabeth everything they had done. It seemed like whatever had happened last night had been a fluke. He didn't like it or trust Neal's acting one bit.

Neal skipped school on Tuesday and found a disconcerted Mozzie at his place (Wednesday). Adler had found him and he was working for him again. He was pressuring him to find out where Neal was, which meant that for the time being, he was still safe. Mozzie had been doing small jobs for Adler. Sort of like the ones they used to pull before, but he could tell that something big was brewing. The mysterious music box Adler was so obsessed about had something or everything to do with it.

"You should run Moz. Get away from here. I'll be fine with the Burkes."

Mozzie gave him a look. "Yeah right man, you're going to trust the sovereignty of Uncle Sam to defend you against Adler? Good luck with that."

Neal lifted up his pants leg to show Mozzie his anklet. "Look, it's not like I have a choice. You can go. We don't need the fire this is going to bring."

"I know."

They both sat down in the table. Mozzie took a sip of his wine and continued. "He wants me to crack a code. It's a secret code that was hidden in the music box. I've got no idea what it leads to. Also, a big job is coming up. I'm supposed to hit the Guggenheim."

Neal seemed startled. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, why?" Mozzie responded.

"We got a problem."

"We should maybe copyright that phrase."

"Tell me about it. Look, Peter's team was working on a tip about a possible hit to the Guggenheim yesterday." He got up and pulled his hair back with his hand. "If you're going to do that job you're going to need help."

"I don't want you involved. I'm pulling together a team. You, just keep me informed about the feds' movements."

Neal was uneasy. This couldn't turn out okay. "Maybe you should just back down from this one. Moz, you haven't pulled off a big job without me in years, certainly not with the feds breathing down your neck."

"In order to succeed, your desire for success should be greater than your fear of failure."

Neal wrinkled his nose. "Picasso?"

"Bill Cosby." Mozzie got up and put a hand on Neal's shoulder. "I'll work on a way out. Trust me." It was hard to appear this indifferent to the situation at hand, but Neal needed the security. If it wasn't for him, Mozzie would probably be halfway down to a private island somewhere in the Mediterranean. But he couldn't leave, and he was out of ideas on how to get out of this one.

"Okay," Neal agreed quietly, not quite wanting to trust him at all.