Neal blinked open his blue eyes, he didn't have to hide them from Kate anymore so before he went to 'bed' with her, he had removed him. He turned over toward Kate only to find an empty space. Grumbling, he rose and made his way to the small, grey bathroom, where he could insert the contacts, bush his teeth, and change back into his appropriately punk clothing. It was going to be a long day; Sam had expressed interest in having Adrian track down the FBI Agent that seemed to be monitoring Caffery's every move. While he was on the move, Sam was going to patch in a call to Neal, which meant that Neal had to hightail it to Peter's place or the entire operation was blown. And he couldn't have that, not when he was this close to Kate, again.

Neal finished getting ready, grabbed his wallet and set out as Adrian, a cover. He strolled down the New York streets, crossing sidewalks and taking in the beauty if the city that he called home, coming to a stop at the corner, he waved at a small figure reading a newspaper. The man rolled it up and tipped his hat, reaching down and pulling out a small, plaid cloth to clean his glasses with, peter may not realize it but Mozzie sure did know how to blend in and keep watch. Neal crossed the street and Mozzie continued his own merry way from the Burke's house. But Neal didn't know that, and really didn't need to know that Mozzie had gone to The Suit. So when Neal stopped in front of the front door and knocked, he was surprised to hear Peter's greeting.

"Haversham, if you came back to ask for any more of my wife's wine I will lock you out there with Satchamo." Peter had responded before freezing, paling, and then inviting Neal in without a word.

"Taking visits from the Little Man now?" Neal asked his tone confident, but with subtle hints of worry and betrayal.

Mozzie was the only person who really knew all of Neal, the con-man, the man, and the broken being. He knew him through and through and Neal didn't want to know what he had revealed to Peter. Not that he didn't trust Peter; it was more of Peter didn't trust him. At least not all the time and Neal really didn't want Mozzie screwing anything up with too much information. So when he sat down, he tried to hide the wince on his face from the hints of Mozzie in the room. The cork from a wine bottle laying on the plush carpet, the faint smell of cologne, and the subtle tilt of the coffee table where Mozzie had 'bumped' into it, leaving a small square note tacked onto a table leg with information should Peter need further contact. Peter didn't make things any easier, his face pale and screwed up ina guilt-ridden expression: his blonde eyebrow slightly furrowed, few drops of sweat beading on his forehead, and his brown eyes darting around, settling on anything but Neal.

"Neal, it's not what you would think." Peter hurriedly said, setting up to explain. Neal just nodded, his jaw clenched, waiting for the same explanation. "Haversham had some… details relating to the case."

"Details?" Neal all but wailed, what was Mozzie thinking. This was him and Kate and him and Kate and him and Kate! He had longed for this yearned for their reunion and Mozzie may have screwed it up. Normally he would control himself but he was tired, tired of being treated like a pawn, tired of being taken care of, tired of being underestimated.

Peter shushed Neal; he was getting so worked up. Like Haversham had given away enough evidence for a life sentence and not details to save Neal's life. To save his sanity and his jail free environment. Neal was pacing, grunting, and clutching at his beach colored hair. Peter wanted to comfort him, stop him and explain, but he needed a course of action, a plan before telling Neal. He couldn't just come out and tell Neal that Kate was using him, that wouldn't work. Neal would just deny it and storm out. He would lose Neal if he did that, and the one thing that Peter needed to come out of this with was Neal.

Neal was breathing faster, moving faster, and making his brain think faster. He was blinking away tears and screams and he didn't know why. He didn't know why his eye kept twitching or why his mouth felt dry. He didn't know why his head throbbed or his legs felt a bit wobbly. He didn't recognize the signs of an impending seizure, he didn't know that his emotions were getting out of hand, but he did notice that his brain was fuzzy. So his brain moved faster trying to figure out why, while his twitchy eye became a twitchy face and the face became an arm and the arm became a leg and so on until his whole body was shaking. Until he was unaware of anything around him and of the panicking FBI Agent he left in the world of the conscious.

Peter didn't even think twice when he saw Neal's eye twitching rapidly. He just thought it was a nervous tick he never saw because Neal Caffery was never nervous. So when his arm started twitching, he put that out to anxiety too. Denial coating his mind and features, making his only focus on Neal unraveling in an emotional sense. He was worried-as he should be- that Neal was becoming too untrusting, too independent, too connected to Kate. Sure, Peter loved El and would shoot anyone that hurt her but he wouldn't push people away for her sake. He wouldn't let her rule his mind until he couldn't work or function or trust his friends. He just wanted the thing to be over, for his plan to get Neal out before he got hurt, to commence. Really, he just wanted a Neal Caffery to be alive and well. And on that note in his mind, Neal had collapsed into a full on seizure. Alive and Well rang out one last time as Peter knelt down next to Neal and tried to recall everything about seizures he had ever learned.

A/N Just blah. I'm not happy with this chapter and that's why it took so long to write. I hope that you guys at least enjoyed it a little, as long as I didn't let anyone down then I'm good even if I do sulk in a corner until I get some reviews to boost my confidence. Have a great day!