Neal closed his eyes and forced himself not to sigh. This was the reason he didn't want his friends to know about his mom. Her greying hair, at least looked like it might have been washed in the last week, but it hung unkempt around her skinny face. Her ragged mismatched clothes hung stained and loose from her wasted frame. Worst though was the fact that she barely spared him a glance. He inwardly shook his head, why had he thought that finding his brother would earn him a thankful smile… maybe even a hug? He could just remember a mother, when he was small who would have hugged him. A mom that smiled at him when she was proud of him, but that woman had been drifting further and further away since he was a child.

Her words about him not caring about the feelings of others were not unexpected. He was vaguely surprised for find it still hurt though. Kevin's defense of him was unpredictably pleasant however.

"He always looks concerned when… people are watching."

"I hardly think putting his own health in jeopardy was for appearances." Kevin's voice turned cold. "Maybe you should go." Neal flinched, as his mother looked like Kevin slapped her. Then her eyes darted to back to him and her face hardened.

"I don't know what he told you, sweetie," she said quietly "but honey, I promise it wasn't true. I hate to say it but your brother seems to enjoy causing pain." Neal blinked in shock, he might not be honest, but he had never been purposely cruel. He glanced at Peter and Diana nervously… if they believed her... He didn't dare look at Kevin.

"That hasn't been my experience." Kevin's voice floated through his stunned mind.

"He allowed them to take you!" her voice rose to a frantic crack. "Then he taunted me about it for years." Neal couldn't contain the gasp of disbelief.

"What the h*** are you talking about?" it took a few seconds to identify the angry female voice as Diana's.

"He allowed those monsters to take Nicky… I tried to pretend it wasn't true, but I never forgot. He was sleeping right there in the same bed, just like every night and he did nothing to protect him. Nothing!" She was almost screaming and Neal knew his mouth was open… that he probably resembled a fish out of water, as he sat there gaping at his mother's fury. She blamed him for his brother being kidnapped? How could she blame him? What did she think he could have done? He was only a baby… right? All these years she blamed him… hated him? That certainly explained some things. He blinked away the tears that prickled behind his eyelids.

"You can't seriously blame Neal." Diana sounded as shocked as he felt. Neal risked a glance at her. Diana's face was a bit pale and she looked furious. She didn't really believe…

"Diana I-"

"Shut up. Caffrey." She snapped, her eyes never leaving his mother. Neal bit off the defense that rose to his lips, maybe she really did believe his mother. If she did … he swallowed hard dropping his gaze.

"They took his brother and he didn't do a d*** thing to prevent it!"

"What was he supposed to do? Why don't you blame me?" Kevin said harshly, Neal looked up quickly. Kevin's eyes were steely, he quickly studied his hands again.

"Oh Nicky! You were just a baby! There was nothing you could do, sweetie."

"So was Neal!" Neal risked another look at his brother, then frowned. Kevin was pale as a sheet and shaking. He shouldn't be getting this upset. "We are the same age!"

"But he slept right through it… he didn't even cry that night. Though he certainly made up for it afterward… he woke up every hour for months screaming for you just to torture me. Your father always got up and went to hold him and left me to cry myself back to sleep alone."

"I don't doubt he slept all night." Diana interrupted her tirade.

"Good because I have no reason to lie."

"Maybe not." Diana glared at her "But you definitely have a skewed view of the situation. It's not your word I believe. I believe it because the kidnapper's accomplice said they drugged any siblings who shared the room with their victim."

"Drugged?" she sounded like someone had hit her again. His mother darted a glance his way.

"Sedatives to ensure they slept. They hit forty families… twenty had siblings in the room. Five of the siblings had serious reactions to the drugs… one of them died. Several other families had their remaining child examined because they seemed unusually lethargic. Did you even get him checked out?" Diana glared at her murderously "As for waking up on following nights… he lost his brother, who according to you he always slept with. He was sixteen months old. Of course he cried. I can't believe you were so selfish that not only didn't you comfort your terrified, heartbroken baby you are jealous that your husband did!" Neal wanted to interject, part of him wanted to step in and defend his stammering, frightened mother, but Diana's wrath kept him frozen in place

"I'm not selfish!" She stared at Diana "I-I was grieving and h-he just kept bringing up my pain to…to…"

"To what? He. Was. A. Baby! He missed his brother and he just wanted to be loved."

"I really think you should leave." Kevin looked even paler.

"Please sweetie! I love you so much. Please don't send me away just because-"

"Because you are hurting my brother?" he arched his eyebrows and Neal offered him a surprised smile. "He has been nothing but kind to me and he never said a single bad thing about you. I've known you five minutes and you have done nothing but put him down. Thanks, but I think both of our lives will be better without you in them."

"Don't you see what he is doing?" but she sounded strangely uncertain.

"Ma'am' Diana's politeness ground through her teeth. "I'll escort you out… frankly neither of your son's are up to dealing with your attitude."

"What do you mean neither of them…?" She looked at Neal again, her harsh look doubtful for the first time.

"You have no idea how close you came to never seeing Neal again, and now you were given that chance, against impossible odds, and you threw it away." Diana's eyes remained icy.

"Diana, don't…" Neal found his voice… he was angry at and hurt by his mother's words but it was his job to take care of her. She certainly couldn't take care of herself… and Diana looked like she might break limbs. "Don't hurt her." The agent gave him a sharp nod.

"Come on." Her tone was still brutal but her hand on his mother's arm was gentle. "Let's go. I'm call the marshals to collect you."

"Take care of yourself mom, please." Neal said quietly as Diana led her away. She turned to look at him once more. He could see the pain radiating from her eyes and he really hoped she wouldn't do anything stupid.
Kevin smiled at him and Peter squeezed his shoulder. Neal realized he was trembling with suppressed fury and worry mixed so completely he couldn't begin to separately them. The familiar feelings that he had pushed aside for so long tumbled through his mind like an out of focus kaleidoscope on spin cycle. She was his mother and he loved her, but he had resigned himself to her not loving him. He knew her pain and the prescription drugs she took to numb it made that impossible, but he never thought she actively resented… even hated him.

"I didn't know she blamed me." He finally managed to say past the lump in his throat.

"Grief can be very irrational, Neal." Peter said far too gently. "It wasn't your fault your brother was taken."

"I know." He smiled for his concerned friend and flicked the expression toward Kevin's worried face as well. "Even I couldn't have arranged a kidnapping at a year old, even if I was inclined to kidnappings."

"Yeah, I think that would be a stretch for even the great Neal Caffrey." Peter chuckled, patting his shoulder.

"Maybe we orchestrated it together." Kevin grinned.

"We are good." Neal laughed quietly. He looked between Peter and Kevin. "I really am ok."

"I know." Peter said

"Good. Then do me a favor… go make sure Diana hands her over to the Marshals in one piece." His friend shook his head with a warm smile, but he turned to follow the two women.

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Meredith Wilcox sat at the conference table waiting for her escort back home… or more likely to a new location. She stared out the window at the skyline, without seeing it. She tried to process the information thrown at her the last hour. After her reaction to Meredith at the hospital the young woman who drove her to the office was stonily silent, staring straight ahead the entire ride. The silence was oppressive… even as her hands shook violently and her stomach cramped with the need for her pills the older woman had the sensation she was sitting next to a volcano ready to explode. The woman… Diana, wasn't that what Danny called her, let her firmly by the arm up to the conference room and pointed to a chair.

"Wait here." She said sharply turning on her heal without waiting for a response.

"How do you know Danny?" she asked before Diana reached the door. The young woman

Whirled back to face her instantly a look smoldering look in her eyes.

"His name is Neal." She bit off harshly "You should know that. You gave it to him."

"I did… but it has been a very long time since I've called him that."

"Well after your little stunt today I think you owe him the courtesy of remembering his name."

"I know you got a bad impression of me but I never meant to hurt Da-Neal…"

"I'm sure you didn't." the woman snapped "but you did, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't just today. You want the truth… I think Kevin… nick was lucky to be kidnapped because he didn't have to grow up with you and James Bennett for parents."

"That is just being cruel…'

"So was you performance earlier." The woman glared at her. "Neal is my friend and I don't appreciate seeing him hurt… I've seen enough of that to last me a lifetime."

"What does that mean?"

"It means three months ago I helped lift him out of the Hudson… clinically dead. I watched my coworkers work until the paramedics arrived trying to bring him back… you are D*** lucky you got to see your son today, instead of the grave that statistically he should be in, and you treat him like something nasty you stepped in! I doubt you would have felt anything if you had arrived here and found out he didn't make it, would you?" the questioning look she gave Meredith cut to her stunned heart.

"How could I have known that?" she managed to defend

"How about the fact that he disappeared thirteen years ago and it was his art teacher who reported him missing, not you. You knew about that, right? Neal is a lot of things I don't respect, but one thing I have always admired about him is his heart. He cares about people, does the stupidest, most dangerous things to protect them. I have no idea where it comes from because he certainly didn't get it from you… or James. The only reason I didn't knock that smug look off your face is because Neal asked me not to hurt you. Now let me make this very clear you are a sick, bitter woman and your sons, both of them, deserve better." With that the young agent stalked out of the room without a backwards glance. Meredith, left alone to consider the conversation, felt as if she had been slapped with a cold rag.

Now she stared out the window and considered the simple truths she was suddenly forced to face and the painful fact that it was far too late to make it right.

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Peter stepped into the apartment and stopped short just inside the door. Two wine glasses and three bottles sat on the table. Several large canvases were scattered around the room to dry and paint splattered the drop cloth that just peeked out from behind one of them that he assumed hid the easel as well.

"Neal?" he called softly.

"Yeah." The dark head peered out around the large painting.

"You ok?" he asked doubtfully, glancing at the empty bottles on the table. Most painkillers he knew of did not mix well with large quantities of alcohol.

"Yeah." blue eyes followed his gaze and his friend smiled "They aren't mine. I may have hypothetically had one glass to be social but…" he nodded toward his couch where a short stocky figure slept with his glasses perched on top of his head.

"Ahh." Peter said quietly.

"He was celebrating my homecoming." Neal grinned.

"It is nice to see you back in this place."

"There were a few days I wondered if I would make it back."

"Yeah, me too." The older man carefully didn't mention the days he was certain the next time he stepped through these doors it would be to pick his friend's last suit. "So I take it you aren't planning to go back to the rehab center?"

"My doctor said I don't have to be in-patient any more if I don't want to. I still have to go back five times a week but…" he grinned again "I get to sleep in my own bed." He turned back to his painting.

"So Kevin got away alright?" Peter finally said after a few minutes of watching the steady brush strokes.

"His boss was there to escort him personally." Neal didn't look away from his easel.

"I would have come by to see him off last night, but Donavan made it clear my presence would be viewed as interagency interference."

"That guy has more control issues than you do."

"Yeah, well he has had to manage your brother for five years."

"Touché." Neal raised his paintbrush in salute. Comfortable silence fell between them again. It took several moments before Peter realized it was Amelia's face taking shape under his friend's brush.

"Are you ok?" he asked again.

"He's not planning to come back."

"He has to do what he feels is best…"

"I know." Neal smiled sadly "I'm fine Peter."

"You always are."

"I always am." He grinned "But honestly… I am ok."

"Have you been painting all night?"

"No." he looked around his apartment ruefully. "I went to bed… but I had that dream again about one o'clock. So…" he gestured vaguely at the collection.

"Why Amelia?"

"I thought Will would appreciate a portrait of his mother someday. How is he?"

"He's great." Peter shrugged "I don't see all that much of him but Elle always has stories when I get home. We'll bring him by whenever you are ready."

"This afternoon would be great."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah" he wiped his hands with the towel that hung on the chair near the painting. "Though I should probably get a few hours more sleep first."

"Probably." Peter met his gaze "That little boy could run the legs off a race horse. Yesterday poor Satchmo didn't even want to go for a walk." The laughter felt good…