Katherine Harris moved fifteen times in thetwenty years following her involvement in the kidnapping investigation. She legally changed her name to Katrina Harrison ten years ago and settled down in a little town in Connecticut. Diana had cross referenced her movements with
unsolved kidnappings or non-agency adoptions. While there were kidnappings… there didn't seem to be any pattern to
connect them with her… but there was always at least one non agency adoption in each of the small towns where she lived…sometimes more than one, within two months of her arrival. With her name change they stopped.

The drive to Connecticut was quiet… the young agent Diana brought as back up didn't know exactly why they were making the trip and she seemed content to simply wait for orders. As they pulled up in front of the quaint little house Diana frowned. The gingerbread molding and carefully tended flower beds was not what she expected from the description she read of the woman.

A brisk knock brought a sturdy but fit middle aged woman to the door.

" ?" when she looked closely, Diana could see the twenty one year old from the pictures in the file, but it was difficult to imagine this respectable matron as that girl.

"Yes."

"I'm agent Diana Berrigan with the FBI…" she frowned at the frightened expression in the woman's eyes. "I have some questions about your involvement with Steve Richards"

"That monster? They accused him of murdering children. I haven't seen him in-"

"Ten years?" the woman froze "Ms. Harris I know as well as you do he was not a serial killer. He took those babies… and you help him sell them. Sometimes one of you were to rough… that's how those three children died in DC, wasn't it."

"We weren't selling them… we were giving them a better life. We were doing them and their families a favor. At least that's what I believed until…"

"Until?"

"Until my daughter was born." Kathrine dropped her eyes "I held her for the first time and I knew I would do anything for her… anything at all. I started having misgivings about the deal not long after DC but I convinced myself it was better for everyone. Until I looked at Melinda and knew that no parent in their right mind would feel relieved to have their baby taken no matter how low income they were."

"Ms. Harrison you are under arrest for human trafficking…" Diana flicked out her cuffs "You have the right to remain silent-"

"Wait I need to call someone to pick up Melinda from school… please."

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Peter strode out of the building, shifting the bundle of cold cases from his right to left arm as he fished for his keys. Two days after his transfer to the rehab center Neal begged him for some cases he could look through while he recovered. The younger man had grinned when he said he wouldn't want the FBI to decide he wasn't earning his keep, but just the thought that they might do that to his friend made Peter vaguely sick. He sincerely hoped boredom rather than a real concern that he might be sent back to prison to recover drove the request but Peter brought Neal files when he visited every evening. They spent an hour or two going through them together, until the younger man began to droop. Peter took the files with him when he left. An hour was more than enough work in his condition, no matter what Neal thought.

At least the files helped to fill the awkward silences that crept into their conversations occasionally since Neal gave his statement three weeks ago. The vivid but emotionless, almost clinical description of Henry Ridgemont beating and burning his friend, tore at the agent's heart and mind like few things in his career had. Neal's rigidly controlled voice and blank expression as he spoke about those three days told Peter exactly how deeply the incident had affected the younger man. That alone sent shivers down his spine and made it difficult to look Neal in the eye, even harder to know what to say to him… given that so much of his suffering had been on Peter's behalf. Worst of all had been the moment Neal described Ridgemont pressing the gun to his chest… then he met Peter's eyes firmly before looking at the young agent with the recording equipment and said quietly "I don't remember anything after that." If they had been alone Peter would have called him on the lie, but that conversation wasn't one he really felt they could have in front of an audience.

Peter sighed at the memory. After hearing the account… He couldn't bring himself to mention Neal's dream. It wasn't fair to drag up his friend's pain just to ease his own conscience.

"Peter?" He spun around as the familiar voice startled him back to the present.

"You could just walk into my office, you know." He told the figure leaning quietly against the thick pillar.

"Now what would be the fun in that?" Kevin Grant grinned at him, pushing himself away from the concrete.

"Sneaking up on me is fun for you?" he shook his head at the mischievous glint in those blue eyes "don't answer that" the younger man chuckled "I assume there is a reason you are back." Peter said sharply.

"There is."

"There better be." He glared at those blue eyes. "I thought you wanted to bring Dennison down… then you disappear for five weeks… not a word."

"I do have a job to do."

"I'm sorry… I do know that."

"I'm here now." Kevin said quietly "and I do want to bring him down."

"He fled the country, you know."

"He didn't flee, exactly… more like laying low until the FBI stopped digging."

"You know this because…?" he looked closer at the young man. Kevin looked …worn. That was the only word that seemed to fit as Peter looked him over. Maybe he hadn't just walked away and forgot the issue after all.

"You wanted evidence…" he pulled a thumb drive from his coat and extended it wearily. "I got you evidence." Taking the device Peter met the kid's eyes.

"You have evidence of Dennison's involvement in kidnapping and murder."

"There's an audio file on there you should listen to." Kevin smiled tiredly.

"You got a confession?" Peter's face turned doubtful "Is it admissible in court."

"The file was acquired during an official undercover assignment."

"Your bosses are going after Dennison too?"

"I didn't say he was the target of the assignment." The young man shrugged again. "He has some very unsavory clients…"

"But you went undercover inside his organization? They didn't recognize you?"

"I'm very good at blending in." he shrugged "dark contacts… blonde highlights…"

"Of course you are." He frowned, refraining from commenting on how risky that was. After all Kevin was not his responsibility

"While I was under I heard a rumor that Dennison and Ridgemont are coming back to New York now that the bureau has lost interest in the case."

"I haven't lost interest."

"That's good because he may be inclined to finish what he started… your consultant surviving and not returning the card hasn't been good for his reputation."

"You think he will go after Neal again?" of course they would.

"Let's say the thought has probably crossed his mind." Silence filled the air, reverberating with that dark prospect. Kevin cleared his throat. "How is Amelia's son?"

"William? In temporary foster care."

"Oh."

"He's yours, you know" Peter's words made the young man swallow hard

"I figured, but I'm not really parent material… the job… not exactly conducive to family ties." Peter waited quietly before he continued.

"Of course the DNA test also said he was Neal's" he waited a moment for that news to sink in… it only took a moment for the brilliant mind to fit the pieces together, driving the color from the young man's cheeks.

"Does he know?"

"Neal? Yeah I told him when the results came in." Peter watched Kevin study his shoes, struggling to regain control "did you know?"

"I knew I was adopted… I knew my parent's housekeeper told me I cried for my "bubba" the first two months I lived with them… But a twin?" He shrugged, looking up his expression contained again. "Though when I saw him…" he laughed softly "I guess I should have figured it out, but my birth mother told my parents my brother died so…" Kevin fell quiet again. He turned to go.

"Kevin, he still wants to see you." Peter said quietly, the young man looked back, grief and regret in his eyes for a fraction of a moment.

"I'm still not sure that's a good idea." His expression was neutral again

"Just once, that's all I'm asking"

"Trust me he's better off without me."

"He just wants to meet you… you're his family. And that's something you're both a little short on."

"I'll think about it" Kevin conceded

"Thanks." Peter accepted. More silence as the young man seemed torn for a moment

"I want in when you take down Dennison." Peter understood that desperate look…had seen it before.

"I'll see what I can do." He watched the younger man a moment considering, the kid needed something to think about besides what he had lost "I could use your help keeping Neal safe."

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He pushed the bowl of potato soup away after only a few bites. The nurse would scold him when she came for the tray, reminding him he would never get rid of the gastric tube if he didn't start eating but...even after two surgeries to clear the scar tissue that blocked it, swallowing still hurt his damaged esophagus, and the soup just really wasn't worth the effort. Reaching for the pencil and sketch book laying on the table Neal adjusted his position carefully. Most of the pain had faded, though there were still moments that caught him off guard and took his breath away. Which reminded him… he quickly ran through the breathing exercises the respiratory therapist taught him. He was slowly learning to breathe again. The thought of no longer needing oxygen soon, made him smile.

Drawing the scene outside his window quietly, he flexed his toes in a slow, steady repetition though it still sent agony though his burnt feet and ankles to move them. The physical therapist said he was doing great… declaring optimistically "we will have you back on your feet in no time!" Six weeks seemed like a lot of time to Neal to have only regained minimal movement in his feet and none in his legs but he kept quiet and clenched and relaxed his toes as often as possible.

With his body busy, his mind wandered. He had that dream again. It was ridiculous that of all the nightmares he had about those three days that one was the one that haunted him the most. It didn't frighten him the way it once had to hear his friend tell the younger agent to stop. He remembered more details in the dream now… the soft whistle of the wind, the ice on the wood beneath his own still body, the water dripping from his friend's hair and the despair in Peter's voice… "Davis, stop… just stop… Please" the older man said softly "he's gone… Let him rest." The dream was not frightening in the same way… but it was still deeply disturbing for very different reasons, now that he was no longer drugged… the scene was eerily reminiscent of William's mother, Amelia, lying cold and lifeless on the dock… he shuttered. Knowing that his condition was so bad that even Peter, stubborn as he was, thought there was no chance of saving him, was terrifying. The fact that he was standing behind his friend…watching the scene play out was unnerving…. He wished he didn't remember… wished he could forget, like he had forgotten so much of that day.

Part of him wanted to talk to Peter about it, wondered if his friend regretted that moment, if he even remembered saying it. He considered mentioning it when he gave his statement, but Peter's tense shoulders and dark expression as he described the events of his captivity, killed the words in his throat. Obviously being so powerless to fix the situation hurt his friend deeply and there was no reason to make him feel worse. That was three weeks ago and they hadn't talked about what happened since. He knew why, it was a difficult subject to approach and attempts from both sides had ended in awkward silences, but he wished he could tell Peter he didn't blame him for giving up. He really didn't, though he had never been so grateful for insubordination in his life, he definitely needed to do something to should his gratitude to Davis. Maybe Jones or Diana knew what sort of gesture would be most appreciated by the young agent.

Lost in thought and his drawing he didn't even hear his door open, until she spoke.

"Mr. Caffrey?" Miranda Wallace said softly. Her whole demeanor toward him had changed since the DNA test revealed he wasn't the only paternal match for Will. "How are you feeling today? Up to talking business?" he lay aside his drawing, giving her his attention.

"You have news? How is Will?" he asked quickly, thinking of his tiny nephew in foster care for the last four weeks.

"He was doing well when I checked on him yesterday."

"Do you think I could see him?" The last time he clearly remembered seeing the little boy, the child had a gun pressed to his head.

"I think that can be arranged, I have news…" Miranda smiled "the judge was somewhat reluctant to grant custody given your circumstances…"she was very careful not to look at his broken body "but that lawyer of yours is… surprisingly capable." He couldn't suppress a chuckle. Yes Mozzie was very capable… and probably extremely passionate in family court.

"He is easy to underestimate."

'That he is." She smiled "the judge finally conceded that since you are the minor's uncle and with his mother dead and his father…unavailable, once you are physically able to care for yourself and a small child, he's all yours… until such time as his father files a protest."

"If his father wants to claim him, I won't fight his claim, but I don't think he's much interested in family." His voice fell sadly, betraying how much he wished his brother was interested, despite his efforts to stay in control. "When can he come out of the system? I have several friends who would be willing to take care of him until I can leave the rehab center."

"Mr. Caffrey I think it is probably in your best interest to focus on your recovery at this point rather than worrying about the care of a toddler."

"But I'm going to worry about him either way."

"I suppose you will" she smiled again "I'll see what can be arranged."

"Thanks."

As she walked away Neal grinned. He knew very little about raising children but his nephew wasn't going to grow up alone, drifting from foster home to foster home. He was drifting off to sleep when his door opened abruptly and Peter stepped into the room with a purposeful step and a worried look, trailing nurses and therapists in his wake.

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The confession Kevin recorded was unsettling… given without a hint of remorse or emotion of any sort.

As Peter listened to the file, Dennison's client questioned the reliability of the information offered "Given the organization's recent security issues."

"Ms. Woodbridge and Mr. Scott have been dealt with. The situation is controlled." Dennison said blandly.

"I heard Scott survived and he didn't return the stolen device."

"I assure you, my friend… though his body survived Mr. Ridgemont is extremely good at what he does… I ordered him to break the man. There is assuredly nothing left of Mr. Scott's mind but a cowering puddle." Peter couldn't resist a derisive snort at the man's over confidence, suddenly grateful he hadn't been present for the conversation.

"I will take your word for it. Mr. Dennison" the client's voice suggested he was being magnanimous "This time. I trust there will be no more issues."

"There will not be" Peter could hear the man smile coldly "and don't worry. Whatever is left of Mr. Scott… will only continue to breathe until my business here allows me to return to New York." As soon the recording ended the agent was on his feet.

"Jones! Diana! We need eyes on the airport! Dennison is on his way back into the country!" he paused to draw a breath.

"What's going on?" Jones asked

"I have Dennison on tape. He's coming after Neal. I need to know as soon as his feet touch New York soil."

"I'll do my best."

"Diana I need you to set up the safe house… keep it close to your breast. This guy deals in information, I'm sure he has at least one leak in the Bureau."

"Where are you going, boss?" she called after him

"To give Neal a head's up and arrange his transfer."

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"Hello Peter" Neal grinned broadly at his friend's agitated state "got a hot case for me today?" Peter frowned and Neal noticed his hands were empty.

"Neal, we need to get you out of here." He announced without preamble.

"Well I'm all for that." He chuckled "this place is getting old, but I think your friends there might disagree." Several heads nodded adamantly, several mouths opened to protest. Peter took a deep breath and spoke in a calmer tone.

"We need to move you to a safe house for a few days… Dennison and Ridgemont are back in town. They feel you hurt their reputation, Neal." Neal shuttered slightly at the mention of the big man who took such pleasure in hurting him. The thought of Ridgemont coming after him again was not a pleasant one.

"But Agent Burke" one of the nurses protested "He still needs specialized care that your agents are not trained to provide." Neal's fingers found the feeding tube absently.

"Peter maybe she's right…" he sighed "I mean…" he gestured to his body gloomily.

"You are a mess." His friend managed a little chuckle but it quickly turned to a frown "but you're alive… and I plan to keep you that way. Diana is arranging for a private nurse as we speak."

"Maybe you should have mentioned that at the beginning. It might have prevented everyone considerable stress." Neal grinned broadly, nodding to the exasperated expressions around them. He was already adjusting in the bed, preparing to leave.

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Kevin found himself walking along the dock staring out over the water… this was the place. The police report said this was the dock where two boaters found her, floating against one of the pillars supporting the pier. He walked to the end and looked into the dark, oily water trying not to think of the crime scene photos… of her bruised broken body, lying right here… in this spot. He tried to force his mind to think of her in London, laughing, swirling away in and out of the fog, in Barcelona lying on the sun-warm sand in the cool evening air, but the memories seemed to slip through the grasping fingers of his mind. Stepping back from the edge he knelt on the damp salt-crusted planks. He wasn't sure what he was looking for… some sign, some trace of his Amelia.

Kevin shook his head, he wasn't supposed to get so attached. He was supposed to be able to let people go with ease. It came with the job, people flitting in and out of his life, but it was more than that… a promise he made long ago. Amelia changed that, and that was a terrible mistake.

His thoughts shifted as his gaze slid along the river. There… he could just catch a glimpse of the place he almost lost his brother too… though… Kevin sighed, he would have never known he had a brother if the other man hadn't survived

A brother… an identical twin brother… it was a novel concept. He wondered if they had anything in common besides their face. He knew nothing about Neal except he was a consultant for the FBI. He could have found out more, much more if he looked, Kevin was certain of that, but he couldn't… wouldn't learn about his brother from a computer screen. Of course, that meant he would never know because he promised… and Amelia just reminded him why. It was for the best.

He would just make sure he was safe from Dennison and his people before he left town. He got his brother into this mess… he would make sure he survived it. It couldn't hurt to keep an eye on him until the arrests had been made… could it? One meeting… He asked for one meeting… Kevin sighed, it was a bad idea, a terrible stupid idea but… one meeting wasn't getting attached…it wasn't.

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Hope everyone is still enjoying this.