Details: Thank you so much for sticking with me despite it taking extremely long! I am so sorry again! I love you all :)

Summary: While working on a case involving a child trafficker, Peter gets an unexpected surprise on his door step. The adventures of our favourite little con as a child! :)

Disclaimer: It is not mine! And if it was, we wouldn't have to wait till the damn WINTER for it!

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"Pe-er." Neal moaned, squeezing Peter's hand as hard as he possibly could as a needle was inserted into his forearm. His face was contorted in pain, and Peter was forced to hold down his little balled fists to prevent a nurse getting punched. He muttered words of comfort to the tiny squirming boy. Tears fell from his tightly shut stormy blue eyes, wetting his thick black eyelashes. He bit his wobbly lip, trying to contain a scream.

Peter could understand his fear of needles, for only a few hours before an unidentified man snuck into his bedroom and poisoned his little con. Peter so desperately wanted to rip the man apart, piece by piece, seeking revenge on the man who harmed the child. It was a paternal reflex that Peter wasn't sure he had ever had before.

He watched in agony as a the little boy cried out in fear, when another needle ejected a vial of blood from a vein. A nurse patted his shoulder, and handed him a tissue, as if it would do any good; the poor boy had been traumatized.

"Pe-er!" He said again, releasing the grip on Peter's hand. His tiny fingers encircled his index finger in a loose hold. He giggled through his tears as the nurse gently put a Spongebob bandaid over the injection sight. The nurse offered the baby a smile, and a lollipop.

Peter leaned over the metal railing and kissed his hair. "You're going to be okay, buddy." He ruffled it a bit, and the young boy laughed, wiping the tears that stained his youthful cheeks with a pale hand. Peter handed him another tissue, before he realized there was another presence in the room.

Diana appeared in the doorway, with a sky blue folder tucked under her arm. Her expression was grim, but once she saw the boy, her face softened and she gave a small wave. The little boy waved back as he could, despite the restricting IV pole. He seemed agitated by his lack of motion, yet was never the less happy to see his friend.

"Hey, Neal. How are you?" She whispered, walking over and lightly squeezing his hand.

"I okay, Di-anna." He said, nodding solemly. He held out his arm. "Look at my bandaid!" He said, his smile returning.

"Good." She patted his hair. Her eyes lit up. "Oh, I see!" She said, energetically, as she took his arm lightly in her hands and inspected it. "Very nice." She said, giving a small quiet laugh.

She stopped laughing for a moment, and looked at Peter. Her eyes flat and bare of emotion as she held up the folder. She motioned for him to return to the hallway.

Peter nodded grimly, and rose from the chair, his bottom sore from it's flimsy plastic. He grunted, stretching his aching back, and walked slowly towards the doorway, loafers squeaking against the freshly polished tiles.

Neal reached out towards Peter. "No go, Pe-er." He said, his eyes re-filling with tears. His hand and voice shook.

Peter went to the bed and picked up his little hand. "I am only going for a minute buddy. I promise. Diana wants to tell me something." He whispered softly, careful not to speak about the case for fear that he might scare the child.

"Is she telling you a se-cret." He asked, his eyes widening and voice rising. His face cracked into a smile.

Peter chuckled. "Yes, but you can't tell." He laid a finger to his lips.

Neal nodded, his eyes growing bid. He zipped his lips shut, and threw away the key.

Peter laughed again, and spun on his heel.

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"Alright, Whatdya got Diana?" He asked, assuming his usual position with his hands on his hips. He sighed, preparing for the worst.

She opened the folder with two fingers, eyes scanning the documents it contained. "We got a hit on the name, Fray La Fence. It's an anagram for.."

"Neal Caffrey." He said, running a hand through his hair irritatedly. He shifted his weight from foot to foot in impatience. "Damn-it. Why didn't I think about this sooner?"

"You had a lot on your mind boss, you wouldn't have thought about it. " She replied, reassuring her boss. Her eyes drifted towards the folder again.

"Yeah, but that's my job. Keeping him safe." He said, turning around and pacing. His eyes searched the walls and floors, as if they held all the answers. He twisted back, refocusing on his agent. "What else?"

"its some sort of message, because get this; the large purchases he made were baby equipment."

"Baby stuff?" Peter asked, face a mask of confusion. He pondered this for a moment. "Why baby stuff?"

"I don't know. But I'll find out for you." She said, abruptly shutting the folder.

"Have Jones run any other possible aliases, and other locations. Something may pop up that we've missed. I want you to take this lead and run with it, see where it leads you. Find out if he had any wives or girlfriends that had kids. I want to know this guy's past. I want him." He said in the most calm fashion he could manage.

"On it." She replied, dutifully. The pair headed back down the hallway towards Neal.

A startling crash startled both the FBI agents. They looked at one another, before going for their weapons, sprinting down the corridor towards Neal's room. Finding the door locked, Peter's adrenaline rushed through his veins, causing him to kick down the door in fury. He was desperate to reach his boy.

"FBI!" He shouted, searching the room for intruders. The tiny bathroom held no one. "Clear." He called, before his eyes fell upon the bed.

Blood dotted the sheets next to a disengaged IV needle, which was tilted sideways over the metal pole, hence the crash. The bedspread had been rumpled, and the window was open, exposing the cool night air. The glass was cracked slightly around window pane. Peter ran a hand over his haggard face, holstering his weapon.

"Diana get Hughes on the phone. This just became a man hunt for a child abductor." He said briskly.

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