Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Amity Park, Illinois, December 6, 2008...

If anybody asks, Danny tells them he's doing fine.

He's pretty sure he's not doing a very convincing job of it, but he says it anyways. Most of the humans seem to take it at face value. The ghosts look at each other and shrug, like he's being silly by not opening up to the people he so often fights with, but they know he will eventually.

It's been two years since Jazz went away to college. It's been right at three months since Sam and Tucker did the same.

Jazz made it into Yale, and he's so, so proud, but he still misses her like he can't even describe.

Sam's parents got her into some posh school in France. She had initially refused to go, but they'd asked her to just look at the place, and she'd apparently loved it once she saw it.

Tucker got into MIT and practically waxed poetic about it for a whole week after he got his acceptance letter.

(Then, Danny's dad had barged through the door screaming about ghosts and he'd realized he'd be leaving Danny alone with his parents, who still don't know.)

Convincing them to leave him and go live their lives - That he'd be joining them in just another year, - had physically pained Danny, but he did it anyway.

(Family puts Family before themselves, and the others always put Danny first. It's his turn now.)

They still call. They still talk. They still visit. But, it's not the same. And, all alone with ghost hunters, Danny's really starting to worry about his parents. About whether or not they'll actually take it well if they ever find out he's Phantom. Especially when they genuinely don't seem to even notice -

(Care.)

- anymore when their inventions hurt him.

He knows they were fine with it in all those other timelines he went to, but that was when he was younger. When he was still their baby and they worried about him, at least once in a while.

(Not very often, though.)

Now, he's just their adult son living at home and repeating the twelfth grade, because ghosts and an unpredictable home life made sure he couldn't keep his grades up, no matter how hard he tried or how hard Tucker, Sam, and Jazz tried to help him.

He can't help but wonder if he's in a very different timeline from the ones he's seen.

(Or, maybe he's just being paranoid, but better safe than sorry when vivisection's quite literally on the table.)

He doesn't even know whether Dash being held back a year with him is a boon or a bummer. For one, he's still there to torment Danny. For another, Danny's been making sure he actually has food to eat by phasing money out of the blond jock's wallet every once in a while.

He makes sure to always turn invisible first, of course, and never do it when anyone knows he's in the vicinity. He's pretty sure the only reason no one but Wes has put the Phantom dots together is because so few people even know being half ghost is a thing. Everyone knows theft is a thing and half the town already thinks Danny's weird. Dash's money disappearing every time he shoves Danny into the lockers? Yeah, that would click together like one of those little, wooden, baby puzzles, even for the less-than-brilliant folks of Amity Park.

But, seriously, his parents don't pay him enough mind to restock the pantry or even give him his allowance so he can do it himself. And, he already knows how actually trying to get a normal job would go, thanks to how school's gone the last four -

(Going on five.)

- years. It's not like Dash wouldn't owe him more than that, if he had enough evidence and lived in a town that wasn't so innately corrupt he could take him to court. Dash had broken his ribs, more than once, whether he meant to or not.

He doesn't want that much attention on himself, anyways, so he'll just take what he feels he's owed with no one the wiser. Sam can never find out, though. It would not go over well.

(She hadn't even liked him pranking Dash in retaliation for his violence, though part of him knows that's just because she was worried he'd get careless and accidentally reveal his powers. She's just as worried about people's reactions as he is, after all.)

Even if he could sue Dash, even if he could get better grades, even if he could get a job or had his own money... He just doesn't have the energy to try any harder.

After all, his Obsession is Family, and all of his is either neglectful or away at school.

(He knows he did the latter to himself, but he also can't rightfully call himself their Family if he holds them back from achieving their dreams.)

That's why the alternate him had gone crazy. He'd lost everything his Obsession could cling to, except Vlad. And, look how well that had turned out.

(At least, he's too tired to destroy the world, this time around.)

His mom and dad and Jazz and Sam and Tucker still love him. He knows that. And, he still loves all of them... But, his Core is so hungry, and everything feels wrong, and...

He can feel their connections weakening.

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz make sense. They're not in town. But, their connections were strong enough before they left to stay pretty strong for a few years to come, even without regular contact.

(Phone calls extend that time some, but he still wishes he could see their faces.)

But, his parents...

(They live in the same house with him and their Ties are still fading.)

He wishes he could say they're starting to notice something's wrong, but it's entirely the opposite. They're just so busy all the time. It's worse than when he and Jazz were little!

The other people in town are starting to notice, though. They haven't said anything, but he just knows it.

Kids at Casper High see him, the weird ghost-hunters' kid, walking around like death warmed over -

(He's too cold for that, though.)

- and barely trying in class and getting lectured by teachers about his future -

(What's the point? I'm already dead.)

- and coming back to school pretty much every day with cuts and bruises he barely even manages to hide anymore.

(The fights have actually gotten better. - He doesn't go out of his way unless his Family is in danger or someone's life is at risk. Otherwise, he lets someone else handle it. He doesn't have the energy. - But, the inventions have gotten worse. His parents still haven't connected the dots.)

How could anyone not notice?

(Why won't somebody notice?)

There was a time when he'd almost longed for the day he was found out. At least it would give him some closure on exactly how everyone would react, when the most likely result was that his parents would still love him and he'd have his Family at his back for the rest of the fallout.

Now, though, with his parents' most probable reaction called into question, he knows he doesn't want that. He feels twitchy. Like he's being watched all the time. Like people are starting to suspect something, even with Wes off at college, too.

(They don't suspect he needs help. They never suspect that, even when it's blatantly obvious. No. Just that he's something... Other.)

He catches himself looking over his shoulder a lot more, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, when he's not even entirely certain what his messed up psyche is counting as the first 'shoe'.

When he spies some GIW agents whispering to each other and shooting him glances by the Nasty Burger, he knows it's time to move on. He needs to get out of Amity Park.

(He needs to go to his Family.)

Now, he just needs to figure out how to get there. He's got a long way to go. The Human Realm is easier to navigate, but comes with government agencies and conspiracy theorists, both wielding cameras and at least one wielding weapons. He'll probably have to hitchhike, take the bus, or hoof it. The Infinite Realms is almost impossible to navigate, but there are people you can ask for directions, no GIW, and the ambient ectoplasm can recharge his aching Core as he flies, even without fulfilling his Obsession.

(Even if it feels like the ghostly equivalent of drinking a meal-replacement shake instead of actually eating.)

He decides to take the ghostly road and see where it leads him.

(He knows better than to ask Frostbite for the Infi-Map again, especially considering how the other FarFrozen seem to feel about him, but maybe the friendly giant has a regular map Danny can use?)

He's been working himself up to this for days. He knows if he leaves, his parents' Core-Ties are just going to get weaker, but they're not even here, so they're going to do that anyways. Besides, Core-Ties don't die unless the person on the other end of them does. He can always strengthen them again later.

He'd upended his backpack on his bed a few days before and filled it with clothes.

(No one at school had noticed he hadn't brought a single book with him, but he's trying to attribute that to their lack of intelligence, rather than a lack of concern for other peoples' well-being in general.)

(Though, if he's being honest with himself, it's probably both.)

Then, he'd realized it just wasn't big enough for what he needed and pulled out the only suitcase Jazz had left behind when she moved out.

He'd taken his time, deliberating on if he really wanted to do this and which of his Family he should visit first, as he packed and repacked and did all he could to fit as much as possible inside.

When he'd found some old photos that'd made his Core feel warm and squirmy in equal measure, he'd used some of the money he'd - liberated, not stolen, - from Dash and bought a proper album to put them in.

(He'd then spent hours listening to Nickelback's 'Photograph' on repeat while he arranged them, but nobody needs to know that.)

But, now everything's packed, and the GIW are acting funny, and his parents aren't here to act as either a buffer or a hindrance if the agents try something, and it's time to go. He can always come back later.

(Not for Christmas, though. Maybe Thanksgiving. Sentient dinner is better than his Family fighting with each other.)

He goes down to the basement and bids - an only slightly-bitter, honest, - farewell to the room and the inventions that had stolen his parents' attention from him and Jazz in their childhood, stolen the beat from his heart when he was fourteen, and stolen a peaceful night's sleep from him ever since.

He'll miss his parents, but he doesn't think he'll miss the house.

He steps through the portal.

Chapter Text

Danny's not too proud to admit that he maybe might be just a little bit lost.

He's been flying for almost two days and every natural portal he tries leads him to the Human Realm, but none of them lead to Connecticut.

(Unless they've suddenly decided to put Yale right next to the Eiffel Tower.)

Which means he's not in the right location.

Clockwork had told him, months ago, how to tell the difference between natural portals, man-made portals, time-traveling portals, non-time-traveling portals, inter-planetary portals, -

(That one had gotten his attention,)

- alternate-reality portals, a few others he couldn't remember, and mixes of all of them.

(He was trying not to think about how you could have a time-travel portal that was also a non-time-travel portal. He didn't need any more traumatic brain injuries, thank you.)

The point of all this being: He's having regrets.

He regrets flying through the Ghost Zone instead of just calling Jazz or Tucker to come pick him up.

(Sam would come, too, but she's overseas, and he figures he'll visit the nearest of his Family first.)

He regrets not letting any of them know he's coming.

(His phone got smashed in a fight with Skulker twenty minutes after setting off.)

A tiny, niggling part of him regrets not leaving a note for his parents, but he's trying to ignore it, because they likely wouldn't have noticed it, anyhow.

He regrets not bringing more food.

(Though, his Core feels a whole lot better with a few days' exposure to constant sustenance. Even if ambient ectoplasm is... Bland, for lack of a better word.)

He regrets not taking a shower before he left.

(He pointedly does not regret invisibly stealing some cash from one of Vlad's "secret" safes the week before. Stealing from Vlad was even more deserved than stealing from Dash.)

But, probably most of all, he regrets not closing the portal behind him. His parents are still Family. The ghosts are still going to come through the portal and attack, and he's not going to be there to help. He'd been sad, but not scared, at the prospect of Sam, Tucker, and Jazz being out of his reach. They were all going to relatively safe places.

But, now he's just abandoned part of his Family to fend for themselves and he really didn't think this through, because they're technically still in another city, so his Core is telling him they're safe, but they'll get back home in a few days, and -

That thought is abruptly cut off, as he flies himself directly through the portal that just popped into existence in front of him.

Oi. He really needs to pay more attention to where he's going.

A blink later, he finds himself standing on a roof in what he's ninety-percent certain is New York City. Of course, the portal chooses this moment to close behind him, ensuring he can't get back through.

(Because, running away from home doesn't mean he can run away from the Fenton Luck™, it seems.)

He sighs, hoping that nobody saw the portal.

(No need to draw unwanted attention.)

(I wonder if they'd even be able to see me at all, in my ghost form.)

He guesses he'll just have to fly to either Connecticut or Massachusetts. They're not that far and his Core's feeling a lot stronger now.

(And, hey, at least it dropped me closer to my destination instead of farther, this time.)

His stomach rumbles loudly.

But, it'll have to wait until after lunch. He's never had authentic New York style pizza, after all. Might as well give it a try so he can argue in favor of Chicago style with more experience and context.

He changes back to his human form and makes his way as discreetly as possible down the fire escape, before heading down the street, all his enhanced senses on the lookout for pickpockets and restaurants. He passes innumerable people talking and laughing in the snow-covered city. It's almost Christmas, and they're all spending time with their families.

He will be, too. Soon.

Another rumble and he spots a sign in a nearby window.

(But, first: Pizza.)

Danny orders himself three, large pies - Including one New York style, just to say he's tried it. He does not like it. Really. He's not a traitor. - and finds himself another secluded rooftop to eat on, knowing he'll get odd looks if anybody sees a lone teenager scarf down four pizzas by himself.

Once he's finished, with both his ghost and human halves feeling better now than they have in weeks, he sets off again in search of the nearest gas station so he can grab a map. He walks in and tries not to flinch at the overpowering smells of coffee and nicotine mixing with the incense someone in the back must be burning. It's probably not that bad, if you don't have super-senses, but Danny's not that fortunate at the moment.

He grabs an energy drink and looks over the rack full of complimentary maps they provide for tourists, thinking about his next course of action. They have some subway maps, too...

(Train-hopping technically isn't stealing, right? I don't weigh enough to cost them any more energy for the trip. Besides, I only grabbed a few hundred from Vlad, and I need to save that in case I need to take a bus, or something. People are way more likely to notice me phasing onto one bus once I head north than they are to notice anything in a crowded place like NYC.)

He glances over the map, then walks over to the line to pay for the energy drink and maybe ask the cashier if he knows which is the best train to take to the Bronx, finally forcing himself to release his death-grip -

(Ha.)

- on his overloaded senses. - He can't ask for directions if he's mentally blocking out all the sound in the room. - And, that's when he notices the tiny, battery-powered TV the employees have running behind the counter.

"- Police say the explosion was caused by what they believe to have been some kind of doomsday device that was found in the basement of the home. -"

"That'll be six ninety-nine."

Danny can't even balk at the outrageous price, as he's too busy staring at the screen. The cashier glances over at it, then back at Danny.

"Awful, ain't it?" he finally says, likely noticing the halfa's ashen expression. "Dunno what kinda lunatics build something like that in their own house."

"- The couple responsible for the construction of the monstrosity, - Doctors Jack and Madeline Fenton, - have been detained, along with the mayor of Amity Park, - Wisconsin billionaire, Vlad Masters, - who has been found to be complicit in the cover up that allowed the Fentons to continue this and countless other acts of public endangerment for years -"

"And, they said earlier they got kids, too," another cashier joins, stepping out from the back. "Left one of 'em home alone to go to some convention. No one's found him yet." She shakes her head sadly. "Poor kid. Hope he's alright."

"- A group of cultists have also been discovered operating out of the little town in Illinois. It appears they've been masquerading as a legitimate, government agency to the townspeople, for several years now, -"

"Hey, you gonna pay, man!? You're holdin' up the line!"

"- A search has also been started for the Fentons' eighteen-year-old son, Daniel, who was left home alone when they left the town for a 'convention' last week. Authorities say nothing has been found to indicate Daniel was home at the time of the explosion, but with the level of destruction -"

Danny drops his items on the counter and runs out the door.

"- It leaves us all to wonder: Just what has been going on in Amity Park, Illinois? And, why has no one noticed? -"

Danny whips his phone out the second he clears the gas station's door, before remembering that it's broken. He clutches it tightly in an attempt to steady himself, as he makes to find the nearest payphone.

Then, something inside of him snaps.

He pauses amidst the throngs of passersby.

(That... Felt wrong.)

It didn't hurt. It feels like it probably should've.

His ears are ringing, his vision taking on a slight, static-y look.

He moves into a nearby alley and out of the way of the pushing, shoving people. He takes a deep breath. Something's wrong with him. He doesn't know what. He knows, instinctively, that he will the second he seriously thinks about it, but for now he's just trying to breathe through the odd wave of dizziness.

It's nothing overpowering. Not like a concussion. He's certainly had worse.

But, while it doesn't exactly hurt, it's also unlike anything he's ever felt before.

With one, final, steadying breath, he focuses on his Core.

His mother's Core-Tie is gone.

That's not supposed to happen. Core-Ties don't die, unless one of the people attached to them does.

But, his mom's has. A first? Or, a rare occurrence lost to history, like so many other things in the Zone?

(I'm a first, too, as far as anyone can remember. The first human-ghost hybrid. The first ghost to wield human abilities in the Zone. The first human to have a Core in his chest.)

(Vlad doesn't count. H's still human. He just has powers. He doesn't have a Core.)

And, Danny's Core is definitely still there and still intact. He can feel it thrumming just below his sternum, just as much a comfort to him as the sound of his own heartbeat right next to it.

He also knows his mom must still be alive, because they'd just mentioned her on the news. She'd been arrested, but she was safe. Knowing her, she was probably talking to the cops right now, always remaining calm and confident that it was all just a misunderstanding and she'll be able to explain it away, like she always does whenever she and dad destroy someone's private property in the pursuit of ghosts.

But, then, what had done it?

(I'm also the first to have Core-Ties while still alive. Nobody's ever had Core-Ties before they were declared dead before. And, they think I was in the house.)

(Dead. Mom thinks I'm dead. She probably thinks it's her fault.)

(It is, though.)

He shakes his head roughly. He needs to call Jazz. To call Sam and Tucker. He needs to go to wherever his parents are being held and tell them he's okay and explain what he can of the situation to the authorities so they'll let them out.

(Vlad can get out on his own, just fine. He probably won't even be there more than a few hours.)

Before he can do any of that, a second wave hits him. And, now that he's acknowledged to himself what this feeling means, he knows instantly.

(Dad. What-)

A third wave, much more powerful than the last two. Danny can barely stay upright, his head swimming in static and the ringing in his ears drowning out everything around him. He smells blood.

Sam just got the news.

Sam, who's possibly the most headstrong of all of them. Whose nature is to hang onto hope, against all odds, as long as there's even the slightest chance.

(Why did she give up so fast?)

(I have to tell them I'm okay. Payphone. I have to-)

Tucker's Tie dies, and Danny's world is swallowed by skin-crawling static.

Maddie Fenton knows she's not the best mother in the world, but she loves her kids more than anything.

Sure, she gets distracted sometimes, but the things she and her husband work with are dangerous, they can't just be left unattended. Not when those horrible ghosts constantly attack the town. They have to be stopped. She has to make sure everyone is safe. She has to convince them all that she's not crazy. That ghosts do exist, and they are evil.

And, she's almost done it! Of course, there are always going to be those who disagree. Thus is the way of human nature. The freedom of thought and mind. But, she's proven ghosts exist, in any case, whether or not Phantom has fooled some into believing not all of them are as bad as the others.

Now, as she sits handcuffed to a chair in a police station near the convention she and Jack had been attending, - Where they'd both been dragged to and separated almost four hours ago, - she goes over all their research in her head, so she can make sure she convinces these people of it all, too. Maybe, - Just maybe, - if she does her best, she can finally get them some more allies in this fight.

The officer that comes in is young. He clearly doesn't believe her about her and Jack's research, but she's not surprised. She's more than accustomed to the looks she and her husband receive, even amongst fellow ghost-hunters.

Regardless, she appreciates that he sits through her explanations so patiently, even if she could do without the odd expression he's wearing. Something between hatred, pity, and sucking on a lemon.

She knows they've looked over the patents FentonWorks has taken out. Surely, this man can see by now that they've only ever meant to help people! Maybe they have to go about it in unconventional ways, but lives are always more important than social constructs or personal reputations.

Finally! That sentiment seems to get to him.

He asks her about the lives of her children. She's not sure where he's going with this, but answers honestly. She has a brilliant daughter, currently attending Yale on a full scholarship. She has a brilliant-but-school-challenged son, currently repeating the twelfth grade. He seems very discouraged, and always tired, likely because of the horrors that plague their home. Her poor, baby boy is so fearful of the ghosts, and it clearly distracts him. But, she swears he's just as much of a genius as the rest of them.

"Genius enough to figure out what you were actually doing in that basement?"

Maddie pauses. Blinks. "He didn't have to figure it out. We've told Danny and Jazz as much about our work as they would listen to, for as long as I can remember."

"And, do your children agree with your and your husband's... Unconventional views?"

She scoffs. "Well, naturally they don't agree with everything we say. Danny's still a teenager, and Jazz is as opinionated as they come. We've raised strong, thoughtful, resourceful kids, and my husband and I couldn't be prouder of them." The officer just looks at her, waiting for her to continue. She deflates slightly. "They don't share all of our beliefs on ghosts, no, but they admit they exist and that some can be dangerous."

And, Maddie's okay with them disagreeing with her, as long as they recognize the danger and keep themselves safe. They're just kids, after all. They'll understand when they're older.

"Even about Phantom?"

Now, that has always been a major point of contention between Maddie, Jack, and their daughter. As much as it pains her to admit it, Jazz has fallen completely for the ghost-boy's act. Just another reason to be glad she's going to Yale. Close enough to visit, but far enough away to keep her safe until she matures enough to look at things without letting her emotions get in the way. Jazz is brilliant at that already, of course, - Always has been, - but she's still so young. Still so -

"I was actually talking about your son. How does he feel about your... Occupation?"

"Danny's never had any interest in ghost-hunting," she replies simply. "He's terrified of ghosts."

"Terrified of ghosts? Or, terrified of you?"

"What, exactly, are you implying?"

He drops a folder on the table between them. She opens it. It's full of pictures of their home. Or, rather, what used to be their home.

The man across from her explains about the device in their basement. - The portal, she insists, but he clearly doesn't believe her. - They think she and Jack built a doomsday device. They think they were going to try and kill everyone. Possibly the whole town. Possibly the whole world.

She does her best to argue with him, but she knows she does an abysmal job of it.

Her home.

"Yes, we know our work can be dangerous! That's why we do it! To protect others from it!"

Her life's work.

"We would never endanger our children!"

All gone.

"How dare you tell me my home's been destroyed and then immediately accuse me of -"

Another officer walks in. He looks grave. Maddie doesn't care. She's furious.

"We found him."

"Found who!?" she spits, as things finally start clicking, unbidden, together in her overwhelmed brain. She can think of several things that could've caused an explosion like that, right off the top of her head. Many of them are in the lab, but she can't forget the possibility of a major attack by the ghosts in their absence. Usually, the Red Huntress handles things when she and Jack can't, but she's only one person. She could've been outnumbered. Maddie hopes she's okay. She seems young.

The officers look at each other, but don't answer her. The new officer hands a file to the first one, who looks it over.

Maddie fumes silently, but can't help looking back at the pictures before her. The explosion seems to have come from a centralized location in or around the lab. The portal, maybe? Of course! Danny was supposed to change the ecto-filtrator. He probably forgot again.

That boy! How can he be so brilliant and so forgetful, at the same time? He truly does take after his father in so many ways. He is going to be in so much trouble when she and Jack get home!

The officer clears his throat, bringing her out of her roiling thoughts.

He slides a picture over to her. It's the inside of her decimated lab.

Something looks off.

Well. Everything looks off. What's left of her house is in shambles. But, something about the picture is setting her instincts on edge. There's more here than just an explosion, but she just can't put her finger on what it is.

"Well?" The first officer prompts. She's about to snap something unladylike back at him when the other officer answers and she realizes he hadn't been talking to her. She fumes silently, instead.

"We've run the tests on the odd, scorched figure found laying inside the device," the second replies.

Device. He means the portal. She looks over the picture again. Everything is coated in ectoplasm and ash, the floors glittering with the remains of shattered beakers and test tubes. There's an oddly shaped object laying just inside the portal. Large and black. Likely debris. Possibly a piece of the roof, judging by the color and apparent texture. But, he'd said 'figure'. He couldn't possibly mean-

"Dental records came back positive." He places his palms flat on the table and looks into Maddie's eyes coldly. "That's what's left of Daniel Fenton."

Maddie Fenton loves her kids. Has always wanted to be their superhero against the ectoplasmic beings that terrorize their little town.

But, maybe it's that exact prideful streak that made sure she wasn't there to save her baby boy.

Chapter Text

Danny has no idea how long the episode lasts. The static starts to fade at some point, only to get suddenly stronger again. When it finally begins to pass enough for him to be aware of his surroundings again, there's a man shaking him by the shoulder.

"C'mon, kid, tell me what ya took."

(Took?)

He blinks. The guy thinks he's strung out. He forces himself to think through the haze. "I'm not on drugs," He argues, though he gets the feeling it doesn't come out all that clearly.

"I'm not gonna turn ya in, kid. Ya got a bad strand, 'er somethin'."

Danny shakes his head, then looks down at his hand at the feeling of something sharp. It's his now thoroughly-smashed phone. He cracked the screen and now it's cutting into his palm. "Got a phone call," He croaks out. "Someone in my family died."

(Yeah. I did.)

"I just needed to sit down." He takes a deep breath. "It was... Very unexpected."

His vision's starting to clear. The man looks like he almost believes him, but not quite.

He takes another deep breath, trying to force back what's left of the static and speak as clearly and soberly as possible. "I swear, I'm not on anything. I'm just really shaken up." He runs his non-bleeding hand through his hair.

The guy finally seems convinced. "I'm sorry for your loss, kid. Losin' someone you love hurts like nobody's business. I got a quarter, if ya wanna call somebody to pick ya up. And, there's a church right around the corner. Drugs 'r not, I don't think ya should be alone right now."

Danny goes along with it. He tells the man he's supposed to meet up with his sister at a coffee shop he'd seen earlier and lets the man lead him there. After that, he, thankfully, goes on his way, now that Danny's not alone in an alley and genuinely does seem completely sober, if 'pale as a ghost'. - The man's words, and it takes everything in Danny not to fall into hysterics.

He orders a coffee and sits down at a little table away from the biggest part of the crowd. He mentally prods at his Core. He expects it to hurt, but it doesn't. He lets himself absorb everything he finds.

He has no Ties left.

(It's so weird. I can't remember what it was like to not have Ties. Not even before the accident.)

His mind prods at his core again.

(Like a bad tooth your idiot tongue can't leave alone.)

It still doesn't hurt. He feels empty. Like a literal shell.

He expects insanity to come upon him any minute, just like it did for his alternate self.

It doesn't, as far as he can tell.

(But, how would you know? We've never known anything but insanity and chaos. Would you even recognize normalcy if you saw it?)

The words in his head aren't harsh. There's a genuine curiosity in them he's trying to ignore. He doesn't have the answer and he doesn't much care if he gets it or not. But, he has a feeling he'll care about it a whole lot, once he's not in shock anymore.

(Shock. Is that what this is?)

He feels like he should be laughing. Like there's a joke to be had about electricity there, but he just can't quite grasp it.

How had this happened? Was it a ghost attack? Vlad? Valerie? Someone he hasn't even met yet?

He'd been right about one thing when he left home: He's not going to miss the house. The built-in security systems that constantly targeted him. The sleepless nights, both fighting off invading ghosts and worrying he'd wake up the next morning to find himself in the lab instead of his own bed. The contaminated food filling otherwise-empty cabinets.

No matter how much he loves the people inside it, FentonWorks isn't his home. Hasn't been for a long time, now.

Knowing that nobody was hurt, Danny's actually glad to see it go.

But, what happened?

He thinks it over. There's plenty of things that can go wrong in his parents' lab. From what he'd seen on the TV, that's where the explosion had originated from. And, Danny may not be an expert in much, but he knows explosions. Has caused his fair share and been on the receiving end of probably even more.

It wasn't the security system, he knows that much. A couple of the blasters would undoubtedly still be sticking out of the rubble and firing at anyone unfortunate enough to have been covered in ecto-goop when the building collapsed.

He hadn't noticed any of the usual signs of ghostly involvement. Someone would surely be cackling maniacally, if that were the case. And, it probably wasn't Vlad. He wants to kill Danny's dad. He wouldn't bother with something like this unless Jack Fenton was home alone, and he wasn't even in the state. Danny had been home alone.

Danny had been home alone.

He'd been Core-hungry and distracted by overflowing emotions and packing up his things and deciding if he was really going through with this. Really running away. He failed to think of so many things. He was supposed to do the dishes. He was supposed to clean the lab. He was-

(The ecto-filtrator.)

(This is Danny's fault).

(He destroyed his own Ties.)

When he thinks what might've happened if any of his Family had been home at the time, - If he'd accidentally killed one of them...

He leaves the cafe and throws up in an alley.

Two hours later, Danny still feels nothing in his Core. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't anything. Which is wrong in a way he feels - Purely on instinct, - isn't meant to be understood by mortals.

He finds a payphone. He uses the handful of quarters the man from before had given to him - 'Just in case.' - and tries to call Jazz. Tries to call Sam and Tucker. None of them answer. Why would they? They think their Brother -

(You mean 'brother'.)

- just died in a horrific explosion. Why would they have time for unsolicited calls from a random payphone in New York?

He tries to figure out what to do next. His first instinct is to go home and tell everyone he's okay. He plans to use public transportation for as much of the trip as possible, since he doesn't know -

(Can't feel.)

- exactly what shape his core is in at the moment.

On his way to the train station, he spots another TV playing in a store window. It's the news broadcast of his house again. He made national news by accident. Again.

(At least the government isn't hunting you down for it, this time.)

Against his better judgement, he pauses to watch. They have more information now.

They found a body in the portal.

They found his body in the portal.

It's too much.

Danny can't go home, because he's been scientifically proven to be dead. They'll immediately know he's a ghost.

(He's a ghost.)

Not a half-ghost, like he'd thought.

It makes sense, in a painful, hindsight-is-twenty-twenty sort of way. Sure, the born-ghosts are all kinda cookie-cutter in their power-sets, but all the dead-ghosts have specialized ones. Danny had thought his ghostly wail was the only power he had in that regard. Apparently, masquerading as his human self is another one.

Because, upon catching a glimpse of the charred corpse just past the police tape on the screen, he knows. That's him. He's dead. He's been dead for four years and didn't even realize it.

(Makes sense. I'm not even the only one that can do it. Spectra, Princess Dora, and Ember have all passed as human at some point. Though I'd thought that was because either everyone in Amity park is stupid and oblivious, ghost powers mean I can see something they can't, or both.)

(What do I look like to them?)

He needs to go to the Ghost Zone. No wonder he'd felt so much better there. He'll let everything calm down, then reach out to his Fa-

...His family.

They're not connected to his Core anymore.

Should he really place that burden back on their shoulders? The burden of loving a dead kid that should, by all rights, already be gone? Of powering his Core with their love and affection, when he's the one who destroyed their home and put them all in danger in the first place, by opening that stupid portal?

He needs to think.

He needs to get to the Ghost Zone, but it's not going to be easy. He still has his powers. It'd taken a few more hours, but, now that the static has completely passed, he can once again feel his Core thrumming with the small amount of energy he built up traveling through the Zone. It's at what he thinks of as 'forty-percent battery'. Maybe thirty-five, with how strange it still feels. But, without either a Family or access to the Infinite Realms, he has no way to replace whatever energy he spends. He'll have to be careful about using it up, especially so far from home and help.

He feels like he should be more exhausted than he is. But, while the mental and emotional tolls all this has taken on him are high, physically he feels fine.

Free in a way, though not a very pleasant one.

For now, he needs someplace to sleep. It suddenly occurs to him that he probably shouldn't be getting on a strange subway in a strange city with hundreds of humans in close proximity when he's not thinking too clearly and isn't sure what the more outward effects of this have been on him.

He finds a hotel and walks inside like any other kid whose parents are staying. He finds a room used for storage, phases inside, and tucks himself away at the back, under a set of chairs with those long, frilly coverings on them.

By the time the sun rises the next morning, he has the beginnings of a plan. He'll give himself a week. A week for the heat to die down back home.

(It pains him to think of his family mourning him for so long when he's right here, but he should be able to safely fix everything after that.)

A week to think through exactly where he wants to go and what he wants to do.

(If he wants them to be his Family again, or if he wants to let them move on and try to find a new, immortal Family in the Zone.)

And, even if he's still got no idea what he's doing at the end of the week, it'll give him time to steal enough funds from less-than-noble people for the journey to Vlad's mansion in Wisconsin. From there, he can make his way into the Ghost Zone and ask his allies what they think of his situation.

Danny wants to do so many things.

He wants to run to Jazz and Sam and Tucker and mom and dad and tell them he's okay.

He wants to go back to the Ghost Zone and pretend none of this ever happened and let his Core feed off the ambient ectoplasm for a few months straight.

He really wants to grab some lunch, because he's been here six days and he's already spent almost all the cash he stole from Vlad and he's trying to be careful.

And, he wants to pace around in front of any store front that's playing the trials until the owners run him off.

(But, he's also afraid someone'll notice he looks exactly like the dead kid the trials are about and put two and two together.)

No matter what he wants, though, his first orders of business are to find someplace to stay that he doesn't have to phase into, find a way to make money that doesn't involve either using his powers or getting a background check, and probably restyle his hair and steal a hoodie, or something, so nobody recognizes him.

(Maybe he can play himself off as his own cousin, like Danielle did?)

(You have three first-priorities. Jazz would have a field day.)

As it turns out, finding a job that doesn't require a background check isn't the hard part. The hard part is that the shady, little restaurant that takes him on is in a bad part of town and barely pays enough to buy him one (ghost-sized) meal a day, let alone afford him any kind of shelter.

The people there are polite, but cold. Not Family material.

(I'm not looking for a new, human Family, though.)

(We'll see.)

(No. We won't. I don't want that.)

Which brings him to his other first priority: -

(You have too many first-priorities.)

- There's no way he's swinging even the dingiest, bare-bones-est apartment for the pay he's getting. Not without starving himself, and, with actual money in his pocket, he doesn't think he has the willpower to just sit there an not eat when he's hungry. So, at least for the moment, he resigns himself to camping out in the rickety, top floor of a condemned building in the Bronx, that even the craziest and most desperate humans avoid, for fear of the sneeze that finally causes it to collapse.

(Danny would probably be scared of it, too, if he weren't already dead.)

He thinks the set up he has is pretty okay, for what he's working with. He binges on his powers just a little to steal a mini-TV like the one he'd seen in the gas station, so he can watch the trials without fear of being identified.

(Shoplifting is wrong, but he needs to know what's going on. This would be so much easier if he could just use his powers.)

Thankfully, from so high up, the antenna gives him a fairly clear signal, so he doesn't miss any of the absolute nightmare his poor Family -

(- family -)

- is going through back home.

From there, he finds his rhythm:

• Go to work and try not to think about the trials.

• Use his paycheck to get the cheapest (non-frozen, he doesn't have an oven) food he can buy, so he can eat as much as possible.

• Shoplift a couple granola bars whenever possible and try not to feel too guilty about it.

• Go home and watch the trials and try not to think too much about what his next move is until they've concluded.

• Lather, rinse, repeat.

Despite his best efforts to clear his mind while he's working, he can't help but overhear what the people of New York think of the case that's made national news.

(Because, Danny ran away from home and accidentally blew up his house.)

(We can't do anything halfa-way, can we?)

(Shut up, that's not funny.)

The general consensus seems to be that Jack and Maddie Fenton were terrorists building some sort of doomsday device. When their youngest child, Daniel, figured out what his parents were doing, he decided to try and stop them while they were away. He'd tried to sabotage their work, only to get caught in the blast when the 'device' exploded and die a hero.

(...Well, at least he's not the villain, this time.)

(Thankfully, nobody in New York looks at him with any more suspicion than they do that weird guy on the corner with the pheasant hat and the briefcase full of tube socks.)

As for the trials, themselves...

The trials of Dr. Jack Fenton, Dr. Madeline Fenton, and Vlad Masters somehow seem to move both too fast and too slow, as the weeks wear on.

It's... Really bad.

First, there's Danny's parents.

He knows they love him, and he knows they never meant to hurt or neglect him and his sister for all those years. Both of his parents look miserable, whenever he sees them on the screen. But... They also keep trying to talk about how much they love him and Jazz and only ever wanted what's best for them, -

(In the past tense for him. Because, they think he's dead.)

(We are dead, though.)

- and then almost immediately getting sidetracked by talking about ghosts.

It's not an easy pill to swallow. But, it's really the only pill there is. Without their Ties influencing his judgement, he can't help but admit, if only in the safety of his own mind, that they really do love their job a lot more than they love their kids.

Next, there's the townsfolk.

He'd thought none of them cared about his and Jazz's welfare. And, really, a lot of them never really did, far too concerned with their own endangerment and the endangerment of their families, both then and now.

Valerie's dad had been amongst them, though he seems to genuinely regret it now. - Whether he regrets not calling the police or regrets threatening a fourteen-year-old instead of helping him has yet to be seen. - But, as it turns out, a lot of people actually had cared. Far more than Danny ever would have suspected, when he hears about the sheer number of calls to CPS made on his and Jazz's behalf over the years.

(A part of him is pleased to note Tucker's parents were the most common callers.)

(More surprising is that Sam's parents seem to be among the top few, as well, though significantly lower than Mr. and Mrs. Foley.)

It just never worked, and the judge is very intent on finding out why.

(Danny'd like to know, too, if they ever figure it out.)

Next, there's the kids of Casper High, both current and former.

The teens and young adults all go into great detail about the things they've witnessed his parents - And, Vlad, in a few cases, - doing and saying. The ones old enough to fully understand the situation make it a point that this is what the Fentons are like in public and that nobody really knows what was going on behind closed doors. Maybe not even Jazz.

Dash constantly looks like he's either actively swallowing a lemon or trying not to cry. Mikey does cry. Then, he mentions how Dash treated Danny and gets backed up by over half the school.

At the judge's suggestion, Jazz, - Who apparently hadn't realized just how much Danny was being bullied, - and the other parents, - Who also hadn't realized all that the blond jock was getting away with, under the school's bias, - agree to consider filing another charge against the youngest Baxter at a later date.

Wes doesn't try to argue any of his usual points even a single time. He actually looks kinda sick, as he provides the court with his old video and photo 'evidence' from his days trying to prove Danny was Phantom.

(He'd been fun to mess with, but Danny's glad he'd given up on outing him pretty quickly after Phantom saved his life and the redhead decided that someone that heroic couldn't possibly be "that annoying, little, Fenton twerp".)

As it is, Danny's relieved to find that the videos have been edited to only show the Fenton parents causing destruction and shouting violent things...

Well. Maybe relieved is the wrong word, but his feelings on that matter are too jumbled at the moment to really put a single word to.

(He's not thinking of why the Amity Parkers that are attending the trial keep side-eyeing each other whenever something supernatural is brought to the court's attention, or how any and all out-of-towners just don't seem to notice.)

(He's definitely not thinking about how nobody mentions Phantom, except the Fenton parents. How the others only mention ghosts, at all, when they're treating them like a tourist attraction gone too far.)

After that, there's Vlad.

The old Fruitloop looks really bad, too, but he's not Danny's Family. - Has tried to murder multiple members of Danny's Family on multiple occasions, - So, while the younger ghost pities the man to an extent, he feels more vindicated than anything. Though, he doubts anything from the trial will stick.

Then, the police find Vlad's lab and Danny nearly has a heart - Er. A Core attack?

(Is that a thing?)

During the next court recess, the man must make a call, because it's less than two hours later that his Wisconsin mansion randomly explodes, - Just as spectacularly as FentonWorks had, by the looks of it, - taking eighteen police officers, four members of the bomb squad, and three major scientists with it.

Danny feels a little guilty about how relieved that last one makes him feel, but they'd just outed the GIW as a fake government organization and promptly arrested them. He doesn't need to see what actual government scientists hunting him would be like. He still feels bad all those people died, though.

Regardless, this had, apparently, not been what Vlad had wanted when he sent whatever ghost it was he sent -

(Probably Skulker.)

- to take care of the problem, judging by the way his eye twitches afterwards. But, that's just too bad for him.

(Danny hopes the Dairy King is okay, though.)

The following day, it's announced that a warrant has been painstakingly acquired to search the Fruitloop's Amity Park mansion, in spite of his twenty-something lawyers' best efforts. It's not even ten minutes before that blows up, too. As soon as the news reaches the court, Vlad, himself, blows up about incompetents and gets a fine for contempt of court.

(The Amity Parkers look at him during his rant with suspicion and a little bit of fear, but Danny can see at least a few hands thumbing lipstick blasters and wrist rays.)

(Do they know? Or, did they just notice the man's eyes flashing red and think he's overshadowed?)

Welp, that's Danny's 'hoof-it-to-Wisconsin-and-use-Vlad's-portal-to-get-back-to-the-Zone' plan up in literal smoke. There's no more man-made portals out there that he knows of, so he guesses he'll just have to wait for another natural one to open up.

And, finally, there's his sister and his two best friends.

They all looks so tired and pained. He just wants to run to them and hug them and tell them he's okay.

And, he will. As soon as all the attention is off of them and they're back at school. After all, the police found evidence that Danny Fenton is absolutely, one hundred percent dead. Found his charred remains in the wreckage of his former home.

He can't ever be seen in Amity Park again.

(Unless he intentionally makes himself look ghostly to the other Amity Parkers? Convinces them all he's a ghost, on purpose this time?)

(No, That's a horrible idea.)

(I could still be seen as Phantom, but that's a different person, as far as they're concerned. It's not the same.)

As the weeks wear on, he watches the jury receive every piece of evidence, some ghostlier than others. - Not that anyone but the townsfolk seem to notice, which is just adding more questions to Danny's list. - He watches them take in the personal testimonies. - From his friends; from his sister; from other Amity Parkers; and from his parents, themselves, who don't even understand their own mistakes enough to realize they're admitting guilt to a courtroom full of people.

He watches the jury deliberate, not about whether or not the Fentons and Vlad are guilty, but the extent of their guilt. How many years in prison they should receive.

(Someone even suggests the death penalty, but that's thankfully tabled pretty quickly, since all the townsfolk agree that they don't believe any of their acts of violence were intentional.)

(Except for the ones against the ghosts, of course. But, again, the Fentons are the only ones to mention them.)

(Everyone else cares more about the child they just lost.)

Chapter Text

Danny's been in New York for almost two months, when the trials of his parents and godfather finally conclude. His parents both got life sentences. He doesn't remember what Vlad got. It's not like it matters, since he fully expects the man to just phase himself out the first chance he gets.

(Dash's is set to begin some time in April. Danny might tune in to see the end of it, but he's not gonna lose sleep if he misses anything, like with his Fa- family.)

(He'd initially been hurt that Valerie hadn't shown up to the trials a single time. But, with how terrified her father had looked when one of the other kids mentioned to the judge that Val holds the same beliefs as Danny's parents, he thinks he knows why.)

He's spent a lot of time over the past few weeks considering his next move, and he's made what he feels are a few decently-solid decisions.

His parents are in prison... Between all the things that came out during the hearings and Danny's dad spouting about dissecting unidentified creatures and "ripping them apart, molecule-by-molecule," and his mom refusing to accept that "ghosts" - Quotation marks provided courtesy of the presiding judge, this time, - might be thinking, feeling beings, no matter what "that menace Phantom" said or did...

He wants to argue. He wants to defend them. But... Once again, without their Core-Ties ramping up his need to protect them, he just can't find it in himself.

(They're supposed to protect me and Jazz, not the other way around.)

He's...

He's not going to make them his Family again.

He still loves them, of course. If it were just the child neglect and endangerment, he'd probably go down there himself and tell everyone to drop the charges. But, since their list of crimes is actually so long Danny lost track around the third day, he wouldn't even be dropping a quarter of them. The best he can do, - For them and for himself, - is to let them grieve and move on and hopefully grow enough as people to not hurt others like they so often have. And, let himself grieve and move on, as well.

Sam, Jazz, and Tucker are a different battle. They've all helped him out so much in the past few years. They've been through everything together, and he trusts them more than he trusts himself some days. But, he also knows they don't truly realize how much his continued existence has relied on them ever since the accident. They're young and in the prime of their -

(Very human.)

- lives. They don't deserve that. Don't deserve him taking their attention away from school or risking their places at college by sneaking in to stay in their dorms and getting them in trouble.

(Even if he rotates between them, as had been his original plan upon leaving home.)

(They're not my Family anymore, but they're still my family. And, family puts family first. They deserve to live their lives without all the trouble I bring to the table. I love them too much to hold them back any longer.)

So, with that settled, his main issues now are finding a way back to the Ghost Zone and surviving until then.

The job at the restaurant isn't enough to sustain him. He'll need to find a better one soon.

'Soon' becomes 'now' when his body starts using his ghostly energy to replace what he's missing in meals, - A plight he feels he probably should've noticed sooner, but somehow didn't. He takes on a second job at a shifty bar.

(Shifty enough to hire someone who looks as young as he does.)

He manages all of two weeks, before sleep deprivation and hunger catch up with him. He overhears a woman berating her kid over the phone and snatches her wallet before he can even think about it.

It's stupid, and reckless, and he doesn't even know if the "kid" is three years old or thirty, or even whether what they did was worth getting yelled at... Or, if that lost money means their whole family will go hungry for a while...

(I've already left my own stomach growling. How could I be idiot enough to possibly cause a whole Fa- family to go through that?)

To make matters worse, he suspects one of the guys who works on the same shift as he does might've saw it. The guy doesn't say anything, but Danny still feels more... Watched after that. He needs to be more careful.

He drops the restaurant job and takes on extra hours at the bar, to cut down on the commute and the lost working and/or sleeping hours he could potentially have between shifts. He starts spending the time previously set aside for the trials going to the library and finding books on magic tricks. Slight of hand is surprisingly useful - Though, it probably shouldn't be all that surprising, - for someone learning how to pick pockets.

Sam would throw an absolute fit, but he tries not to think about that as he starts stealing whatever cash he can from drunk idiots at the bar who mistreat the workers or other people around them.

(Unless the person they mistreated handles it themselves. Danny can respect that.)

He does it the old-fashioned way - Without his powers, - and he does it to strangers and he does it to people who look like the loss won't mean they or their family will go hungry until the next payday.

(He knows what it's like for your parents' mistakes to leave your stomach growling. He's not doing that to even the worst person's kid.)

(He really worries about that first wallet now. What if that kid is starving somewhere and it's his fault?)

It's not like using his powers to steal from Vlad or Dash. But, at the same time, it feels almost exactly the same.

It's still not really sustainable, though. People are starting to complain that they always get robbed when they come to this bar. Danny's the new guy. He'd forgotten the very simple advice he'd given himself when he'd started stealing from Dash.

He stops stealing, cuts his hours back down, and takes on a second job at a bar in the opposite direction of his hideout, hoping no one there's heard of him, yet.

Walking down the street between one shift and the next, he sees some guy selling counterfeit Pokémon cards for a quick buck. They don't look even a little legit, but they are selling, and...

Listen.

He gets this idea...

So, one morning in early March, after work finishes for the night, he steals some clay and paints. After all, ice sculpting has always come pretty naturally to him. - It was the fighting aspects of his cryokinesis that had been tricky to get the hang of. - And, he's painted model rockets to look just like the originals before, so it's not like this is his first rodeo.

His first finished piece is something he's really proud of. It's a little Pikachu with a great, big smile sitting on a giant apple. He's not sure where the idea came from. He feels like he saw it in a commercial or something once. He considers keeping it.

Then, he overhears a hotdog vendor talking on the phone about what to get his daughter for her birthday. His stomach growls. He trades the figurine to the man for three hotdogs and four packets of ketchup.

He starts making video game characters and selling them on street corners. Danny doesn't personally think they're much. But, well... Frostbite had always said his ice-sculpting was impressive. He'd thought the yeti was just being polite.

(He'd nearly had a Core-Tie for him, too. Then, the whole clan had turned Danny away so vehemently when Undergrowth attacked, and Frostbite hadn't argued with them or offered any real kind of support. Not even to help Danny get his home and his Family back so he'd get out of his frosty hair.)

(No, they all just implied he was some kind of prophesied hero who was supposed to help them. That didn't mean they had to actually like him or help him back in any way.)

(He knew he was a burden, but they hadn't needed to be so harsh.)

(Yes, they did, or we would've made a Core-Tie for Frostbite anyway.)

(Then, we would've been around more, and the others would've started resenting us and getting mad at Frostbite, and then he would've started resenting us for turning his clansmen against him, and we would've been left with a Tie that didn't want us around, and we probably would've started acting like Klemper, and -)

(Is that why Klemper acts the way he does? Cause his Core is hungry and he has no ties? He should be more careful with his powers, if that's the case.)

(What? You don't feel bad for him?)

(He lives in the Ghost Zone. He's got ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. He can be a little careless with his powers. He'll be fine.)

(What a selfless and heroic outlook.)

(Shut up! He's still better off than I am right now.)

(Except that he's crazy.)

(Maybe I'm crazy, too!)

He sees a shop selling souvenir T-shirts and adds landmarks to the list of ideas. Those sell even better and actually become pretty popular. Once he realizes he can make a living this way, he starts studying the art of forgery in earnest. Maybe he can copy something from a museum in between smaller projects and trick someone into believing it's the real deal?

(After all, he's already faking being human. How hard could this be?)

Then, a guy who sells similar, landmark figurines for higher prices down the street corners him in an alley and threatens to make him disappear if he doesn't knock it off with stealing his business.

He keeps on just to spite the man, but does start selling in a different area. His Core's already low on energy. If he uses his powers to protect himself, he might destabilize. And, if he lets himself get beat up, he won't be able to stop his powers from trying to heal him and he'll almost definitely destabilize.

Later that night, he has an epiphany. Why do all this work to sculpt his canvas and then paint a three-dimensional picture, if he can just buy and/or steal a canvas and paint a one-dimensional picture on it? It would be so much faster.

He swipes some supplies from a craft store and googles famous paintings in the library, using their complementary printing to make himself a copy of the one he thinks he's got the best shot at. He nabs some paints in as many of the right colors as he can. Apparently, the real cadmium yellow used in the original painting is illegal or something now, but he finds some fake cadmium yellow and does his best.

He spends weeks working on it in his spare time, making it as perfect as he can in between smaller, quicker projects. He's better at sculpting than drawing or painting, but he feels like he's improving. If this works out, he'll need to find bigger references to work from, though.

He's no master, by any means, but he manages to make and sell enough forgeries -

(To people who actually believe they're the real deal, somehow! He's wearing six-year-old sneakers and clothes that have definitely seen better days, why would they actually think he had the real Mona Lisa!? And, only wants three hundred bucks for it!? Do they think he stole it?)

- in his spare time to actually feed himself enough. The last one even swings him a mattress for his small -

(Lonesome.)

- hidey-hole.

He gives the first bar his two week notice, then steals as many wallets as he can on his last day. Hey, they already suspect him, and it's not like any of them know where he lives. He'll just be careful he's not followed home or seen in this area for a little while.

He focuses on earning as much as he can from the second bar in the evenings and making the best forgeries he can in his free time.

(His fingers itch whenever he sees a wallet just waiting to be snagged, but he resists the urge. He doesn't need this place to get suspicious of him, too.)

When he finds a soup kitchen that he really wishes he'd known about sooner, he starts eating there a couple times a week. The people there are nice, but he tries to steer clear of them. He doesn't need to get attached to any more mortal Family and he definitely doesn't need anybody calling social services. He just needs to survive long enough to get back to the Zone.

The bonds are an accident of a sort. He stumbles upon the idea one day while reading about great forgers of the past and, without his permission, his brain starts laying out the step-by-steps of how, exactly, he could go about it.

(Oh, yeah. I could make that.)

So, he does. He doesn't think they'll actually pass, but, hey, he's sold worse off as the real deal.

(Man, people are stupid.)

Then, walking through the park one morning, he spots someone playing Find The Lady and his brain says it again.

(Oh, yeah. I can definitely do that.)

It's obvious the man standing at the front of the crowd is working with the guy running the game. He heckles way too much to not be personally involved. When they convince Danny to bet a good bit of money, - Five hundred he just got from selling a fake Van Gogh and a sculpture of Mario and Luigi lassoing a giant headcrab, - he clocks the moment the queen is switched out for another card.

No way to win, just as he suspected.

He gives them a taste of their own medicine, swapping the card he chose for one of the queens in his pocket. He gets followed home by a street kid for his troubles.

(Man, he's glad he hadn't flown up to his room, like he would've back in Amity.)

Mozzie, the man who shows up a few minutes later, is a real piece o' work. He's almost as weird as Danny, even though he's completely human.

And, he's impressed by Danny's skills.

The next thing the ghost knows, he and Mozzie are standing on one of the lower floors of Danny's building - The man refuses to go up any higher on principal, - looking over the five pieces of paper Danny's been losing sleep over for the past few weeks.

(That's not why we're losing sleep.)

Danny personally thinks his sculpture of a group of Pikmin playing on a slumbering Snorlax is more impressive, but what does he know?

Despite knowing he shouldn't get attached to any more humans, Danny lets himself get close to Mozzie. The older thief helps him get a new alias, suggesting the name Niel as a shortened form of Daniel. Danny, thinking of Neil Armstrong, instantly loves it.

Mozzie's almost as eccentric as Danny's parents, only in different ways and less violent. Danny likes him.

(The goatee needs to go, though.)

As the weeks wear on, Mozzie tells the young ghost all these conspiracy-theory stories that remind Danny of his parents in a way that's somehow both painful and soothing. He teaches him about art and the aspects of professional forgeries that they don't put in library books. - Or, maybe the people who write the books just haven't figure it out yet. - They start keeping a list of all the ways people at coffee shops misspell 'Niel'. Danny buys himself a burner phone, so the man can just call him, instead of screaming for him from the ground floor.

Then, Danny gets cornered by the guy with the landmark figurines again.

He tucks himself away in his hidey-hole and tries to conserve as much energy as he can, as his body forcibly drags power from his Core to heal him, mentally watching his energy levels tick down closer and closer to destabilization. When he doesn't answer Mozzie's phone calls or shouts for a few days, the man faces his fears and climbs up higher. He spots Danny through a hole in the wall, panics, then is suddenly in the room with him.

When Mozzie sees the bruises covering his face and arms, he helps him up and half-carries him to one of his safehouses. - Danny thinks he called it Wednesday, but he's pretty sure it's Saturday today, so that must be the concussion talking, - He patches him up, - Danny's glad the broken bones and internal damage healed first, - and makes a call that's both terrifying and awesome.

(Maybe Mozzie's not less violent than mom and dad. Just less open about it.)

The souvenir guy doesn't bother him anymore. Too busy learning to swim, from the sounds of it.

While Danny lays on Mozzie's couch and slowly, painfully heals, the man tells him stories about his life as an orphan in Detroit. And, that kindred lonesomeness, - Combined with everything else the man's done for him lately and the starvation currently eating away at Danny's very being, - snaps a Core-Tie in place so suddenly the younger thief nearly chokes on the little bit of wine Mozzie'd given him for pain.

He has a Family, again. And, it saves his afterlife.

It's not long before Danny starts looking at the bald man as a sort of wine-uncle.

(Take that, 'Uncy Vlad'! Mozzie's way better than you!)

Mozzie refuses to let Danny go back to "that death-trap of a building" and rents him an apartment nearby instead, using one of his own aliases. Danny says he can't afford it. Mozzie says not to worry about it and to just keep doing what he's doing.

(Danny finds out weeks later that Moz had told the guy at the front desk that "Niel" is his illegitimate son and he's trying to support him, but his wife doesn't want him at home.)

Not too long after that, the man gets drunk and tells Danny about this long-con he's been dreaming of on a guy named Vincent Adler. He laments that Danny's too young and Mozzie doesn't have the acting ability to pull it off. "If you were a little bit older and a little bit taller, it'd be perfect."

Then, Danny gets an idea about how to make their long-con a success.

"Our long-con, little man?"

"Yeah, Mozzie. Our long-con. Listen -"

Danny takes on his second alias, eighteen-year-old Nicholas "Nicky" Halden, - A reference to an old Cary Grant movie Mozzie likes, - and convinces Adler's assistant, Kate Moreau, to take him on as an unpaid intern working for college credit.

During a major party, he lets slip to Kate, in front of Adler, that some of his people have been acting weird, asking, - With big, innocent baby blues, - what's going on. He becomes a 'naive' wealth of information for the man, dropping important hints, mixed in with the everyday comments and curiosity a regular kid looking to climb the business ladder would have.

The man seems to think he's just observant, but not smart or experienced enough to put anything together. He doesn't realize Danny and Mozzie spend weeks spying on things and spinning them to sound like something an errand boy could have plausibly noticed on the job. Mozzie doesn't realize Danny has super hearing and half the stuff he's filling him in on after work is stuff he really shouldn't have heard.

Anytime someone plans to turn on Adler, Danny notes something offhanded about their behavior or the behavior of the people around them. Adler keeps his money, Danny keeps his position.

Danny thinks he looked pretty good in the suit and tie he'd had to wear for the party. He starts wearing them regularly. He loves the way Kate's always adjusting his collar or fixing his hair. She's so nice, and she's always trying to help him get a good start in the business, unaware as she is of his real intentions.

(She's not his Sister. Not yet. But, she's definitely a sister.)

(He really misses Jazz.)

(He never knew Danielle well enough for her to become Family, even if she was technically family, but he thinks she would've made a good little Sister. He worries about her, out there all alone.)

(He wonders if she's okay.)

Then, he brings Adler's attention to a high-profile fence by the name of Alex Hunter and Adler shows his true colors in front of Danny for the first time. Danny is expecting some kind of threats, - Of the corporate or legal types, at least, - when Adler shakes Miss Hunter down for information.

...Danny's life thus far has just made him so used to violence and shouting...

He fails to put on the right act for the situation. A normal kid his age would've been surprised by the display, at the least. But, Danny knows from painful experience with Vlad that nobody that powerful would do anything too violent in the open. They wait until there aren't any witnesses. So, he knew Alder only planned to scare Miss Hunter.

Now Adler knows Danny's not as naive as he pretends to be.

Danny tells Adler he's known about the hints he's been dropping this entire time, but also knew just how much stock anyone would put in them, coming from someone who looks as young as he does, no matter how smart they are.

"You told him What?"

"C'mon, Moz, what was I supposed to do?"

"So, you're out, then."

"Nope," Danny smirks. "He handed me a paycheck and told me to keep doing what I've been doing. But, to cut the theatrics when it's just the two of us."

"...You're serious?"

"Mm-hm. And, made sure to act real grateful, too."

The next day, Miss Hunter stops Danny as he's leaving, offering him payment if he can get her information on some kind of music box she's looking for that she thinks Adler knows about. They start working together, information only he and Mozzie can get in exchange for information only Alex can get.

Alex seems really unhappy with the way Kate flirts with Danny, even though he claims he's eighteen. She says anyone who actually believes that is stupid and Kate ought to know better. He appreciates it. Her protectiveness almost earns her a Tie, but her distrusting nature is too much like the Red Huntress, and he's learned that lesson all too well.

(Val was cool, but she really wouldn't have made good Family with her views.)

Mozzie, on the other hand, says he should lean into Kate's apparent crush. Use it to their advantage. He does, because Mozzie is Family and Alex is worried for nothing. He doesn't even feel that way about Kate. He just...

He just really wants a real Family again. And, Kate would make such a good Sister.

He tries not to think that way. Tries to not get ahead of himself. Their plan is going to betray Kate in the end. He needs to focus on what he has right now and make sure his little Family, - Just him and Mozzie, - stays happy and safe and healthy. Needs to focus on the job so they can move up in the world.

(It hurts, in a way, that Mozzie's Core-Tie is already stronger than Danny's mother's ever was.)

(Don't think about that.)

Their long-con goes on for... Well, a long time.

(That's why it's called a 'long-con', doofus.)

He gets close to Kate, despite everything. He runs coffee and shows her magic tricks and flirts back when she flirts, just because it's fun and it reminds him of the days from before. The good ones. The relatively few where high school drama and reminding his parents to give him his allowance so he could buy lunch were all he had to deal with.

(The days without ghosts, or guns pointed at him, or screaming about ripping and molecules.)

Then, Kate's boyfriend asks her to move to Chicago with him. Soon after, Danny drops Alex the rumor Adler heard about the music box being in Copenhagen and she disappears. Danny's sad to see his friends go, but tries to put on a brave face. He tells Kate about the best restaurants he went to when he lived in Illinois. The museums he'd had no interest in at that time, but visited anyways because of school.

(He can barely stop himself from warning her away from Amity Park. She'll look into it and see his picture, if she does. He can't believe nobody else has already. Especially Adler and Mozzie.)

Only, on the day Kate was supposed to leave, she shows up at his apartment.

(She stayed for him.)

(He has two Ties, now.)

(Maybe he can have a big Sister, again.)

Then, the FBI start asking around about the bond he'd had to cash to buy a good suit for the con. They have a vague description. Mozzie warns him that they need to finish things up and disappear sooner than expected. He needs to get Adler's password. Fast.

Unfortunately, Adler is faster than any of them. Turns out, his entire business was a scam and he took every dime anyone who invested in him had. Danny can't even cash the check he'd been given, as there's no money in the account. He's so glad he still has bonds left.

(Moz wouldn't let us go hungry, but I don't want to do that to him. He's already paying for our apartment.)

(Only 'cause he's scared of our old place and doesn't wanna have to go there anymore.)

(Any mortal would be scared of our old place. This is one of the most normal reactions Mozzie's ever had.)

It's probably for the best, anyways. With Kate's Tie now in place, he never could've finished a job that would involve betraying her. With the older woman coming over to his apartment so often, suddenly Mozzie's not so on-board with the 'lean into it' idea. He's suspicious.

(But, she stayed for me.)

(Mozzie's always suspicious.)

(Please, get along. It hurts me when Family doesn't get along.)

(Mom and dad's anniversary. Christmas. Sam and Tucker's food feuds. They hurt.)

When he and Kate are both left penniless, he cashes two more of his bonds and gives half the money to Kate. She asks where he got it and he says he'd had it in a different savings account, for emergencies. She says it's his money and she'll only take it if she can move in with him.

She wants to be his girlfriend.

He can't keep up his illicit activities with Kate in the apartment, not without her finding out. So, he tells her. Everything.

But, Kate doesn't know Danny's a ghost. She doesn't know how much he needs the few Core-Ties he has. She doesn't know how terrified he is she'll stop caring about him and leave.

(Mozzie's not enough to make his Core strong again, but as long as he feeds himself enough human food, doesn't get hurt, and doesn't use his powers, he won't Core-starve to death. He should be okay.)

(I'll be okay.)

Chapter Text

Kate still likes him! She even starts joining him and Mozzie on their cons! Danny doesn't really like being a criminal, -

(Even if some of the stuff they pull is really fun and silly, and even if it does get him the adrenaline fix he's hooked on, thanks to teenaged superheroing.)

(He misses superheroing.)

(He misses being healthy enough for superheroing.)

- but he has a Family again!

(Mozzie's still suspicious of Kate, but Mozzie's suspicious of everyone and he seems calmed by the fact they only really ever kiss.)

(What did he think we were doing? Playing Parcheesi without him?)

(Oh.)

(Oh.)

(He should probably tell him there's nothing like that going on between them.)

(But, it feels so nice to know someone's actually worried for us.)

(No. I'm not doing that to Mozzie. I'll tell him later tonight. I don't wanna worry him.)

Then, Alex comes back. She says she's got a lead on the music box. It's in Copenhagen and she wants Danny and Mozzie's help. When Mozzie presses her about why she chose them, she finally tells them she'd had a fight with the person she'd planned on going in with. Mozzie's a little upset at being her second choice, but, after talking it over, the pair of conmen agree to help her out.

(A Family road-trip. Danny hasn't been excited for one of those since he was too little to realize what they were actually like.)

He talks to Kate about it.

She thinks he's trying to cheat on her.

She thinks he likes Alex.

(But, why would I invite her, if I wanted to be alone with another girl? That's stupid.)

She thinks he's trying to manipulate her.

(He's already decided he doesn't want Alex in his Family, though. She's nice, but she doesn't trust anybody.)

(He doesn't even really feel romantically about Kate, he just likes her as a friend. He's just willing to try and be romantic for her because it seems to make her happy.)

(He's hungry.)

But, really, looking for the music box does sound like -

(Illegal)

- fun. Honest.

But, Kate won't listen.

She leaves him.

It hurts that she doesn't trust him. Her Tie doesn't break, though. This isn't like his parents or Jazz or Sam or Tucker.

(Even if a part of him is still afraid it'll happen again someday.)

(Your Ties are all mortal. It will happen again someday. But, worse.)

But, Kate knows he's not dead. She might come back on her own, and she's getting away from the more dangerous aspects of his and Mozzie's lifestyle. He can comfort himself with that.

He has Mozzie - His strongest Tie, - in reach, and he knows Kate - His second-strongest Tie, - probably isn't in danger. He'll survive. He has to.

(Mozzie's Tie is stronger than dad's, now.)

(Kate's Tie, - Even now that she's gone, - is stronger than mom's. But, that's not saying much.)

(Maybe we should reconsider our stance on Alex.)

He goes to Europe with Alex and Mozzie and tries not to worry about Kate for the moment. It doesn't really work, but he's trying.

Then, the job goes south. He tries to use his powers to save it, but he's too weak. He can't even rescue Alex from the French hospital she winds up in. They left guards with her and they'll notice if she suddenly turns invisible. He doesn't have the strength for it, either way. Not enough to turn two people invisible and intangible and keep them that way until they've gotten enough distance from the place.

(His Core feels like it's around twelve percent, now.)

(Destabilization starts at five.)

To be fair, Alex would probably freak out and alert the guards if she suddenly turned invisible, too.

(And, Mozzie's already paranoid, as it is. If he ever found out Danny's not entirely human, would he leave him, too?)

(Would he tell people about him and get Danny stuck in some government facility for the rest of his afterlife?)

(No. That's stupid. Mozzie hates the government.)

(Would he poison Danny and sell him on the black market, piece by piece?)

...It's too big a risk.

He'll wait for Alex and hope and pray she forgives him for not being able to rescue her.

(If she had a Tie, leaving her behind would be a nightmare.)

(He'd only gotten away with Leaving Sam and Tucker behind for cleanup all those years ago because he hadn't realized they'd consider it a betrayal. He'd thought they would just count it as them helping him and keeping him safe from hunters, like Family should.)

For now, he'll cling to Mozzie and make sure he's the most normal - if talented - human con-artist there is. He'll practice and get better, so he doesn't have to use his powers on a job again. He doesn't want Mozzie to suspect anything.

Maybe he can make Kate see he wasn't cheating on her. That he doesn't feel anything romantic towards Alex.

(Towards any mortal, really. After all, what would be the point? They'll keep aging and eventually die, and he'll keep being fourteen forever.)

(Even Valerie and Paulina weren't serious relationships. They were just pretty and he's a kid. Has always been a kid.)

(Alas, ghosthood does not relieve the scourge of teenaged boy brain. Rather, it extends the plague into immortality.)

(I've been hanging out with Mozzie too much.)

(You mean, we've been hanging out with Mozzie, too little. I'm hungry.)

(Maybe, we should just tell Kate we're only fourteen. Then, she'll understand there's nothing serious going on with Alex and maybe she'll agree to just be friends and there won't be any more relationship drama.)

(She'll never understand when we turn fourteen again on our next birthday. Or, the next one.)

(Mozzie won't, either. It's only a matter of time before they figure it out. I never should've let myself make any more human Ties.)

(It wasn't really a choice.)

(I could've hitchhiked to Yale and talked to Jazz. I'd still have a mortal Tie, but at least I'd know she'd never betray me.)

Danny and Mozzie head back to New York, empty-handed.

And, suddenly, the little ghost finds himself being arrested.

(At least, Mozzie isn't with us.)

(Only, now we're going to actual, real, grown-up prison alone and weakened.)

(Yeah. Nevermind, I want Mozzie.)

"This is Caffrey? He's two feet tall."

"I'm five feet tall, thank you."

"Hands on your head."

"I didn't realize we were chasing an infant."

"Agent Burke?"

"Yeah... I didn't, either... You'd think someone would've mentioned this. How old're you, kid?"

"Guess that depends what you think my name is."

"Niel Caffrey ring any bells?"

"In that case, I'm almost thirty."

"And, I'm Nancy Drew."

"Jones. The courts'll sort it out. Cuff him."

"How'd you manage to mess up every camera that got a look at you? Some kinda jammer?"

(Crud. Is that a ghost thing? Don't some ghosts mess with technology in the movies?)

(We never had any problem with that before, though.)

(Were the cameras working in Amity Park some of mom and dad's doing?)

"I got friends."

(True. That is a statement of fact. Doesn't have to have anything to do with what they're talking about, as long as they assume it does.)

("Now, distract 'em before they can ask for more info.")

(Thank you, disembodied voice of Mozzie in my head.)

"Were all of you in that little van outside? How'd you fit? A pocket dimension?"

(Mozzie has suspicions.)

(Mozzie has suspicions about everything.)

(Except the people staking out my apartment, apparently.)

(What if he sold us out?)

(Don't think like that. Mozzie wouldn't talk to a fed if his toupee was on fire and these guys had the only cup of water in the state.)

"It's not easy."

"Doesn't smell too good, either."

He's so stupid! Why won't his idiotic Core just stop counting Kate as Family!? She called him a liar and a cheater! She left him without hearing his side of things! She betrayed him and admitted to it on her first visit! Why can't he stop counting her!?

(Because, she visits him in prison. That's gotta count for something, right?)

(He tries not to think about how his parents had still counted, even when they were actively hunting him.)

Mozzie visits, too, despite his fear of all things government. In disguise, of course, but Danny can't blame him for that. After all, Danny's disguised as a human.

(Hadn't Spectra told him that? Had she known he was a full ghost? He can't remember.)

And, Danny is eternally grateful for the bald man and even the -

(Traitor.)

- brunette. He doesn't know if he would survive the harsh environment he's currently trapped in without them.

(He still has nightmares about losing his old Family.)

To his surprise, Peter Burke, the man who'd been leading the team that arrested him, comes by every once in a while. He looks like he feels guilty. Probably because Danny's so much younger than he'd expected.

Nine months into his sentence, Danny's desperate enough his Core makes a Tie for the man, despite his vehement protests.

(It's probably gonna hurt him, just like Kate's did.)

He lets Kate wiggle her way into his Core again. Deeper, this time. Because, he's stuck in this prison with too many people who don't like him, and no potential, new Ties inside the building, and not enough visits from his current Ties to give any real life to his powers, just enough to refill his Core with whatever energy he has to spend to defend himself against bigger inmates or heal himself afterwards.

(Who wants to be friends with the scrawny, conniving, little shrimp who eats way more than someone his size should and never gains an ounce? Who's pale, and creepy, and dead, and steals stuff, and -)

He can't even phase out. He's already tried and almost got stuck halfway through a wall.

(If Tucker were here, he would laugh at him and then hack security and have him out in a matter of seconds.)

(Sam would cause some kind of chaos to act as a distraction.)

(Jazz would do the same, but the chaos probably wouldn't be on purpose.)

And, even if he manages it, he won't have the strength left over to keep it up and not get caught immediately. Or, to survive for very long after that. The only bit of ghostly magic he's managed so far was overshadowing the doctor that examined him upon arrival, making sure everything in his charts read normal. That was almost two years ago, and he's not getting any stronger.

(I'm at about nine percent, now.)

(He might as well be human, but humans don't have to deal with a stupid, throbbing Core in their chest that won't let them sleep. Humans don't rely on the love and loyalty of others to survive.)

(Well, Jazz's psychology books say they do, but it's much less literal than our situation.)

But, it doesn't matter.

None of it matters, because, despite knowing that he shouldn't trust her, Kate manages to get to Danny, anyways.

Four months! Four months! He only has to wait four more months, and he'll be out! But, he can't, because Kate's leaving, -

(His parents didn't even notice when he started sleeping at Sam and Tucker's houses the year before they left for college.)

(Didn't come looking for him.)

(Didn't care.)

(He needs to be better Family than his parents were.)

(He needs to have better Family than his parents were.)

- and, maybe if he can escape and go after her, she'll know he loves her -

(like a sister)

- and she'll love him again, -

(If she ever really did.)

- and his Core will stop throbbing, -

(It never stops throbbing,)

- and he'll be free, with his Family, -

(Does he really have one of those, though?)

- and...

(And?)

She's gone...

(Everyone's gone.)

She's gone, with nothing left but an empty apartment.

(An empty Core.)

 

(Six percent.)

(Because, my stupid Core made us try to escape without thinking it through all the way, and I panicked and had to use my powers!)

And, now, his stupid, worthless, idiotic Core is crying out to this stupid agent that's about to arrest him for the second time, -

(Second time with Peter. Third or fourth, if you count Walker.)

- just because Peter talks to him like an actual person and doesn't shoot first and ask questions never, like his parents.

(What parents?)

No.

He's not thinking about that.

He's got enough problems, he refuses to add fuel to the fire until he's at least got a modicum of privacy and energy to spare. He doesn't need his eyes to start glowing in front of Peter and making him even more tired. And he really doesn't need to turn into a puddle of goop in front of the man.

(Peter's nice.)

(Not that nice.)

(We're gonna destabilize.)

"She leave you a message in that?"

He looks at the empty wine bottle he's been fiddling with. "No."

(You've got an empty Core and an empty life, and Kate needs more than that. There's a message for ya.)

(Then cut her Tie.)

(Ties don't cut, they only break.)

"You've been busy in the two weeks since my last visit."

(Hungry weeks.)

(Why didn't you all visit more? Why am I not worth visiting more?)

"Guess so."

"You carrying?"

"Guns aren't really my thing."

(My parents liked guns more than they liked me.)

(If I had my powers, I wouldn't even need one.)

(We used to be scarier than a gun.)

"They asked me, what makes a quiet kid like you pull a boneheaded escape with four months to go?"

(Quiet? Since when am I quiet?)

(Have I been quiet lately?)

"Guess you figured it out."

(No, you really didn't.)

"...No. I really didn't... Why'd ya do it, Niel?"

(Because, nobody would come to me, so I had to go to them.)

Danny shrugs, never looking up from his hands.

Peter sighs deeply. "Still. You managed to escape from a supermax? And, nobody can even figure out how you did it."

Danny takes the praise for what it is, laughs along with the banter that's only a ghost -

(Ha,)

- of what he used to see on the daily. Pretends he doesn't know his eyes are red from crying.

(Alone.)

"They're gonna give you another two years for this, you know?"

"I don't care."

(Yes, I do. Nobody else does.)

(What about Mozzie?)

(I love Mozzie, but he's too scared of the government. He won't risk them seeing him to protect me.)

Peter looks at the kid, in front of him. Sitting alone, in the floor of an empty apartment, fiddling with an empty wine bottle.

(Doesn't under-aged drinking stunt your growth? Didn't I hear that somewhere?)

Neal's eyes are red from where he's been crying.

Peter just doesn't understand it. Why would someone so young and smart and talented, with their whole life ahead of them, throw it all away for a woman who's gotta be at least ten years older than him? Who clearly doesn't actually care about him, when she was so quick to sell him out before?

(You helped him make this mess. You should've fought back harder against the judge trying him as an adult.)

(Should've found proof he's actually a kid.)

(He would've gotten a shorter sentence in a juvenile facility.)

(He would already be out and probably would've gotten the counseling he so clearly needs.)

"They're gonna give you another two years for this, you know?"

(Don't you understand that? You could be so much better than this, Neal!)

(It's partially my fault, though.)

(I didn't make him commit those crimes.)

(I also didn't make sure it was handled correctly.)

(Hey, at least I visited him!)

(Yeah, once a month or so. Not enough to make sure he wasn't being abused by the older, stronger criminals and guards surrounding him.)

"I don't care."

(That's not teenaged angst. That's a statement of fact.)

(What've they done to you, kid?)

(What was it the instructors said about handling depressed or grieving civilians?)

(Neal's not a civilian. He's a felon.)

(He should be a civilian. He shouldn't have been in an adult prison, serving an adult sentence. He should've spent some time in a juvenile facility then been transferred to a half-way house or a foster home or something. With people who know how to help kids like him.)

(We still don't know for sure he's a kid. A lot of people look younger than they actually are. His ID says he's thirty-two.)

(And, I'm the Pink Panther.)

Slowly, Peter sits down beside the diminutive fugitive.

(Little Miss Muffet sat by a tuffet of black hair.)

(The word is 'tuft' and shut up.)

("Help them acknowledge the negative emotions. But, once they're done, help them move on from them. Don't let them stay in that same spot, ruminating and making it worse inside their minds.")

Peter is so glad Jones had gotten those extra workshops approved. He's terrible at feelings, but having step-by-step instructions makes it a little easier.

(Okay. Acknowledge the negative stuff. I can do that.)

(Some would say I'm too good at it.)

(Shut up.)

The kid looks up at Peter expectantly. Then, he laughs. Small, but genuine.

(Good. He seems to have handled the 'move on' part by himself. Now I just need to provide the next step.)

(No. I am not cutting corners here. We need to do this right.)

(It'll be fine.)

"That's the same suit you were wearin' the last time you arrested me."

Peter looks down at himself, then shrugs, "Eh. Classics never go outta style."

Once again, he thinks over the idea that's been bouncing around his brain for a few weeks now. Does he really wanna do this? Is it a good idea? The kid's proven himself to be slippery, but...

(Maybe, if he had good people in his life giving him a reason to be better, a reason not to run...)

"There's this program. I've been thinking about it for a while now."

"That program have anything to do with the security fiber on your jacket?"

Peter looks down at himself, not seeing anything, until the kid reaches over and carelessly plucks something off his shoulder.

(If he was an adult, he might've gotten himself shot doing that to the guy arresting him.)

(If he was really an adult, he would've known better.)

Well... Even if this is a bad idea, -

(And, it probably is.)

(Shut up.)

- it's definitely gonna be interesting.

He feels like Cujo. Is this what Cujo feels like? Danny's pretty sure this is what Cujo felt like before he was free. When he lived with those awful people at Axiom labs.

(Cujo's cute, but not Family.)

(A dog would make good Family, though. Loyal and loving. Maybe someday.)

(Not Cujo, though. Not while I'm in the human realm. It'd be a danger to both of us.)

The anklet chafes at Danny's leg and a manic part of his mind worries that Peter's gonna have him put down, like Axiom did the poor, slobbery, green puppy.

(No. That's silly. They don't put down con-artists for being slightly annoying.)

(But, you're not just a conman. Not a human one, at least.)

(But, if he sends us back to prison, he will be putting us down. We won't survive it, again.)

(That's why we haven't actually done anything to annoy Peter, yet.)

He's trying to behave, at least until they're out of the prison's parking lot. But, it's in his Core's nature to try and be familiar with people. And, that means being playful and silly. And, sometimes, annoying them on purpose.

(Like a little Brother.)

(He hopes it's endearing, but, sometimes he worries he comes off more like Youngblood.)

"You understand how this works?" The agent asks sternly.

"I'm being released into the custody of the FBI, under your supervision... With this thing chafin' my leg. I miss anything?"

"Yeah. If you run and I catch you, - Which, you know I will, because I'm two-and-oh, -"

(You would've never even known I existed, if I could use my powers.)

(If we weren't so hungry.)

"- You're not back here for two years, you're back here for good. I can't do anything about it after that."

(Wait. I know there's supposed to be incentive and stuff, but that doesn't seem right. Life in prison for a non-violent forger who escaped twice? And, one of those times with only one, middle-aged agent and some ugly jewelry as 'guards'?)

Despite these thoughts, the chronological twenty-one-year-old forces himself to nod his understanding.

"You're gonna be tempted to wander. Maybe even look for Kate."

(True. But, not my fault. Blame my Core and my empty stomach.)

(I'm hungry.)

"Don't."

Danny meet's the agent's firm gaze. "I told you. She broke up with me. That was goodbye."

(And, we're already making plans for 'hello, again'.)

(But, I wish we weren't.)

Chapter Text

Danny takes great pleasure in the look on Peter's face when he shows up at June's the next morning.

Honestly, he would've taken the woman up on her offer if she'd lived in an apartment even worse than the one he'd been originally assigned. June is so kind and her late husband's profession means she doesn't bat an eye at Danny's own past. She kinda reminds him of Sam's Grandma Ida, with her caring nature and adventurous streak.

He's actually already starting to feel a little bit better thanks to June. Her Tie's still weak yet, but the fact it's already there means something.

(It means somebody openly cares. Someone's treating us like Family. Enough that we're not paranoid about it.)

(We should still be careful, though.)

(No. I'm hungry and June's nice. Shut up.)

Either way, seeing the sheer irritation in Peter's eyes is just the icing on the cake. Danny's not sure he's happy his Core picked the agent as part of his Family. He's... Awkward.

(He visited us. Be thankful for what you have.)

(Seven percent.)

"I went to the thrift store, - Like you suggested, - and June -"

"Lady with the dog. We met."

"- was donating her late husband's clothing. We hit it off. She had an extra guest room." Peter only looks more annoyed. Danny is highly amused. His core, not so much.

(If he's gonna be Family, he's gotta be able to take some ribbing.)

(Doesn't mean you have to make him regret our deal on the very first day.)

(I'm not gonna make him regret our deal. I'm just playing.)

"You said, if I found a nicer place for the same price, I should take it."

"I did say that," The agent admits, looking physically pained. "All this for seven hundred?"

(Actually, June said I could stay for free. She knows about the motel the FBI set me up in and said it was no place for a kid. Peter.)

Of course, June, being much more street-savvy than Danny is, had told him not to mention that. To put that seven hundred back for himself. So, that's what he's doing. He'll probably use some of it to buy her a nice Christmas present. He needs to find out when his new Tie's birthday is, too.

"Yep... But, I help out around the place."

"Oh, sure. Feed the dog, -"

"Yeah, wash the Jag... Watch her granddaughter, from time to time."

At that, Peter brightens. "She's got you babysitting?"

Danny is so glad he asked Cindy to wait around the corner and listen for that exact line. The look on Peter's face as she practically flows past him, shawl fluttering in the morning breeze, is priceless. As the conversation continues, Danny can actually clock the moment the man's brain fully realizes the implications of a master forger tutoring an art student.

Danny is feeling ten feet tall -

(Like Walker, when he does that thing that makes him huge.)

- in a designer suit June had given him from a box of her son's old clothing, and still riding the high of so brilliantly messing with Peter. He looks downright hot, if he does say so himself.

Just for kicks, he grabs a very mobster-looking hat from his new collection and makes a big show of putting it on upon his arrival at the bottom of the stairs.

"You look like a baby mobster," The agent breaths, expression genuinely horrified.

(Should I be insulted or flattered?)

"This is classic Rat Pack," He says aloud, feigning scandal, even though he doesn't actually know what that means. He'd just heard June say it when she showed him the stuff. "This is a De Voir," He adds, for good measure.

"Oh, sorry. Dino," Peter snarks. "Will you stop with the hat?" He adds, as Danny continues playing at flipping the old-fashioned accessory onto his head in a showy manner. "Come on. Let's go."

"You're upset."

(You're angry.)

Danny had wanted the man annoyed. He hadn't expected to get this much of a rise out of the agent with this little effort.

Peter, for his part, looks surprised. "No. No, I'm not upset."

"Did I break a rule?"

(He doesn't think he did. But, what if he did, and it breaks his deal?)

(I won't survive.)

"No... You didn't break any rules." Peter's looking at him like he regrets ever saying anything now. "Since when do you care about breaking rules?"

(Since losing this deal means puddle-fication.)

But, aloud, Danny crosses his arms and turns his nose up, feigning offense. "I don't. I'm a bad-boy, remember."

(Puddle-fication isn't a word.)

(Shut up.)

At this, Peter actually laughs a little. Score one for class-clownery. "Okay, Fonzie."

"Who's Fonzie?"

Peter can barely believe his eyes. The kid's got a mansion. He's wearing a designer suit. Peter hadn't even known they made designer suits that small.

(Neal, what are you doing?)

What if he's planning to con the lady from earlier? - June. - And, what's with the woman's granddaughter. She's in college, why does she have any interest in Neal? The kid's a kid. She can't actually buy that baloney about him being an adult.

What if he throws away his deal and Peter has to go back to worrying about him?

(Like you didn't worry about him all last night, when you thought he was in that run-down hotel?)

"You look like a baby mobster."

(Please, don't become a baby mobster. You're bad enough non-violent.)

"This is classic Rat Pack," The kid sniffs, and Peter's pretty sure he's just playing. He's still annoyed.

(Neal, if this is some kinda scam, I'm gonna wring your scrawny neck.)

"Oh, sorry. Dino."

(I'm putting myself out there taking you on as a CI. I don't want you to go back to prison.)

"Will you stop with the hat?"

(Are you listening? You need to take this seriously. It's not a game!)

"Come on. Let's go."

"You're upset."

Peter looks at the kid, about to lecture him on responsibility and whatnot.

Then, he actually looks at him.

(Neal looks even smaller than usual.)

(He was just playing with a hat, you jerk.)

(He hasn't don anything wrong, yet.)

"No. No, I'm not upset."

"Did I break a rule?"

(Is he scared?)

(Maybe he is taking this seriously.)

"No... You didn't break any rules. Since when do you care about breaking rules?"

And, just like that, the little ham is back to himself. "I don't. I'm a bad-boy, remember."

"Okay, Fonzie."

Huge, blue eyes turn to him as the act drops, replaced by confusion. "Who's Fonzie?"

(This is gonna be a long day, isn't it?)

Danny's not sure how he feels about Peter's right-hand-agent, Diana. Sure, she's pretty and polite, but living with Mozzie has instilled a healthy dose of distrust in him when it comes to anyone who works for the government. He's trying to reserve judgement, but he's also not holding out too much hope.

(Would be nice to have another friend, though.)

(And, pretty has nothing to do with it?)

(Pretty's a bonus.)

(This from the guy who walked headfirst into a malfunctioning, inter-dimensional portal, because of a mini-skirt.)

Adding to his current state of antsiness is their mark - Er, - suspect. The Dutchman thinks he's something like a ghost. Which is insulting on so many levels. He isn't. Not a ghost. Not a ship. End of story. He's just a regular guy who's probably really smart. And, that proves it. Every ghost Danny knows is both crazy and stupid. Including himself.

(Especially himself.)

(Shut UP.)

He absently watches Diana flirt with a female airport security officer a little ways away from him, as they wait for Peter to get back from talking with the guy the FBI is currently suspicious of.

Seriously. Six hundred Snow White books written in Spanish isn't exactly normal, but there's nothing wrong with it, either. If Danny hadn't been there, himself, he'd think they were chasing a false lead.

But, he'd smelled it. He's not sure what, but he'd gotten a whiff of something familiar while they were looking over the suitcases full of children's literature earlier. He's trying to place it. It's on the tip of his brain.

(We don't have one of those.)

He knows that smell. But, what is it? What good is having super-senses if they don't help you remember the things you're sensing better?

He's still wondering about it when Peter comes back out of the room, demanding to know why he wasn't informed of the suspect's call to his lawyer. When the group realizes the man never called a lawyer, they rush back in to find their book-guy already dead and the fake lawyer missing.

As another member of airport security calls for medical assistance, Danny has to hold himself back from telling him not to bother. He can tell just by looking at him that the man's already gone. Probably some kinda ghost instinct, or something stupid like that.

(Too bad he didn't become a ghost. Adding a smuggler to our group might be fun.)

(We do not need another ghost in our group.)

Another ghost would have another Obsession, and that Obsession could easily clash with Danny's. And, he knows, with his luck, he won't realize it until he's already created another Core-Tie.

He can't believe he's gone this long without seeing any other ghosts in the city, but it's probably just the lack of ambient ectoplasm, or something. Or, maybe, he just can't see them.

(Or, maybe we've already seen them and just thought they were humans, like everyone thinks about us.)

(...Shut up...)

"Got a dead book-dealer, a killer lawyer, and a bunch o' worthless books," Peter gripes, as he, Danny, and Diana look said books over for clues, once again. "Alright. Come on. As a reformed, professional counterfeiter, what is the Dutchman's interest in these?"

(Danny is choosing to ignore how the man's Tie warms at the hidden praise in that statement.)

Unfortunately, Danny's already looked at these books so many times today that the details are starting to literally blur before his very eyes. There's not a single inch of them he can't have noticed before.

But, still. There was the smell. And, something about the copyright page had seemed to jump out at him. Why, though? He forces himself to reread the copyright page, even though he knows the information won't actually stick in his current frame of mind.

It's no use. He can't retain the words long enough to string them together.

"Published 1944 in Madrid." He mutters aloud, hoping to spark something in his uncooperative brain. He knows the smell. He knows the year. He knows the place. What is the significance of the three together?

(Books are made of paper. What would I do with antique paper. What would Mozzie do with it?)

It clicks like a CD case closing.

It's not the pages in the middle, with writing and pictures on them. No, the Dutchman wants the blank ones used for binding.

(Man! What are the chances our first case with the FBI would be a bond-forgery, just like one of ours?)

(What are the chances the librarian would remember one, random guy who came in a couple months ago and asked to look at an old bond? This is the New York Public Library. Surely, other people ask to look at things. It shouldn't stand out that much in his memory.)

The Victory Bond, itself, is beautiful. Danny would love to have a go at making one, just for how complicated it seems. It would be even cooler to make a three-dimensional sculpture of it.

For now, though, he contents himself with examining the real deal up close.

(Is it, though?)

"This is the only surviving copy."

Danny hates to burst the librarian's bubble. Honest.

(You know you love it.)

Danny tries to fidget as little as possible, as he listens to Peter rehash what they know to Diana and Jones, another of his new 'coworkers'. It takes them surprisingly little time to work out what the Dutchman's plan is.

He's pretty proud of himself for the calculations he does in his head before Jones can type it into his calculator. He'd mentioned to Mozzie years before about his struggles with math and the man had taught him some tricks to help with the 'mental block' he claimed Danny must have on his 'neural pathways'.

He loves Mozzie, but sometimes he really is too much like Danny's parents.

(Hey, it did help, though.)

Danny pretends not to notice Mozzie when he first arrives back at June's, but ghostly night vision means darkness is practically non-existent for him nowadays. Of course, the paranoid man is aware he can see pretty well in the dark, thanks to a couple of the more dangerous jobs they've pulled together, but he doesn't need to know the supernatural aspects of it.

Just to be dramatic, Danny grabs a cane from the stand by the stairs and pretends he thinks there's a burglar, then acts exasperated -

(Rather than elated,)

- when his friend begins to speak.

"I saw the best mind of my generation get run down by the drunken taxi cab of absolute reality."

He can't help it. He laughs. - Quietly, of course. No need to wake June.

Speaking of.

"How'd you get in, anyhow?" He's already noticed the wine bottle and sincerely hopes his strongest Tie hasn't been stealing from his newest one

"I used this," the short man, - who is, embarrassingly, a few inches taller than Danny, - holds up a fist. When Danny just raises an eyebrow at him, he continues, "I knocked. I introduced myself to June. She's great."

(Please, mean that in a Family way. I want my Ties to get along. I know she's rich, but, please, don't try to steal from her.)

"Did'ya get a load o' that granddaughter?"

Despite his worries, Danny's relieved to see the older con. Mozzie came to see him. He's been watching out for Danny closely enough that he already knows where he's staying. - His odd friend's equally-odd way of showing he cares. - He even risked the chance Peter would come in instead of just dropping Danny off.

Mozzie's Tie warms so much it almost feels physical.

"Thanks for coming."

(Brother.)

"What was I gonna do? Not come?"

And, Danny feels like, - And, he hopes he's not wrong, - if Mozzie had a Core, it would be calling him 'Brother' right back.

"Can I see?"

Danny props his ankle on a nearby chair, careful not to get mud on June's pretty furniture, tracker on display. "Can you pick it?" Not that Danny could leave, even if he ditches the anklet. Not with two ties here, one in the wind, and only one planning to come with him.

Of course, Danny would be forced to leave if Mozzie did. He's still his strongest Tie. But, it would be a nightmare wondering about Peter and June. It's already one wondering about Kate.

Mozzie sighs and runs a hand down his face. "No way, kid. You flew too close to the sun. They burned your wings."

Not ideal. Ideal would be phasing out of it with no one the wiser. But, for now, he's got three Ties accounted for. He needs to check up on the other one.

"Where's Kate, Moz? Where'd she go?"

Mozzie visibly steels himself. "She's a ghost, man. -"

(Don't snort. You know he doesn't mean that literally.)

"- She did an outstanding job of melting away."

"Okay... Just, keep looking?"

"You know I will."

Danny is so grateful his Brother doesn't press him on the matter. He's so grateful to have someone he can trust to look out for his missing Tie. So, he pushes that thought away and tries not to fret too much about the traitor.

It's a lot easier now that he has an actual, Titled, Family member. He doesn't have to worry so much.

His Core's up to about eight percent now. He's not out of the woods. Not by a long-shot. But, it's better than it was a few hours ago.

"How about Alex? How's she doing?" He asks conversationally.

"Oh, I got word she's in Italy. Not sure what she's working on, though."

Good. That's good. Alex isn't a Tie, but she's still a friend. He wishes he had some clue what she's up to and if she needs any help, but knowing she's safe makes him feel a lot better. If he can just confirm the same for Kate, it'll make his afterlife so much easier.

He prefers to be near his Ties, but he understands that humans can't be expected to go along with that. That's what Jazz would call 'controlling behavior'. He's not like Vlad. He won't force any of them to be near him if they don't wanna be. No matter how hungry he gets.

(If none of my Family cared enough to be near me, what would be the point of trying, anyhow?)

But, as long as he knows all his Ties are okay and he has at least one nearby that actually cares, he can manage. And, now probably isn't the time to delve too deeply into those thoughts. Not with Mozzie looking at him with a slightly-worried expression.

(Mozzie's not the greatest actor out there, but I'm also really gullible, so he's still probably more worried than he's letting on.)

(It's so nice to have a warm Tie after being so cold for so long.)

(It's the only kind of cold that bothers me.)

To distract himself, Danny pulls the counterfeit bond out of his pocket and shows it to his conspiracy-minded Brother.

"It's superb," The man praises, pushing his glasses up to rest on his bald head. Danny's not surprised. Mozzie's love for art is only outweighed by his love for cleverness and ingenuity. "You know, the worst thing about art forgery? You can't take credit for your work."

Well.

Isn't that a thought.

Chapter Text

Peter wakes up to the smell of breakfast cooking downstairs and hears Elizabeth moving around in the kitchen. So, taking advantage of her distraction, he starts snooping around in some of her things, hoping to find a hint as to what she might want for their anniversary.

(He can't believe he'd almost forgotten again. Good thing Diana always has his back.)

Unfortunately, the peaceful quiet of the morning is short-lived and he soon gets the call that Neal is missing. The fact that the kid is sitting on Peter's couch, looking over the forged bond they're investigating with his wife, is only better in that he knows where to find him now.

He wants to be angry. Wants to rant and do anything in his power to make this kid understand.

(I'm trying to protect you! Why are you throwing it away!?)

But, before he can blow up at the kid, something catches his eye.

Neal looks bad. Really bad. Peter wonders if he's sick. He's got dark circles under his eyes, looks like he hasn't slept a single night in the two years since he got locked up.

(Am I really that oblivious or did this happen overnight?)

Neal's cheeks are hollow. His frame is too thin, though the suit does a lot to hide that. His eyes look haunted. He looks... Peter doesn't wanna say frail, but if the shoe fits...

Regardless, he's not supposed to be here.

"How did you get here?"

"I took a cab," Neal responds simply, as though it should be obvious. "Did you really put Elizabeth under surveillance before you asked her out?"

Peter looks at the two of them in utter disbelief.

"Peter," Neal smirks slyly, petting Peters dog, while sitting next to Peter's wife, on Peter's couch, in Peter's living room. Outside of the radius that Peter had set for him less than twenty-four hours ago.

(Looking one, stiff breeze away from disintegrating into a cloud of dust.)

"I underestimated you."

"You told him about that," Peter states more than asks, looking at his wife in disbelief. Just so he won't say what he's really thinking.

"Oh, he said that he wanted to make sure that I wasn't seeing anybody else," Elle hurries to explain to the sickly, little felon sitting on his couch. "Honey, I think it's cute," She adds pleadingly, turning her big, beautiful eyes on Peter now.

"I think it's adorable," Neal grins. Because, of course he does.

"I'm putting you back in prison."

Elizabeth, knowing him as she does, remains silent and not even a little concerned. After all, she'd been there the whole time Neal had been in prison before. She knows that it had stressed him out terribly and he's just trying to scare the kid straight.

Which, it seems, is working a little too well. If Peter'd thought Neal looked pale before, he was positively ghostly, now.

(Is that what's wrong with Neal? Did he catch something in prison? Were they not treating him, or something? Or, worse, were they treating him badly?)

(I really should've checked in on him more often.)

Now that Peter's looking at him more closely, there's another emotion hidden in Neal's eyes. The kid looks hurt, which... It's ridiculous! It's his own doing! How can he do this and then look at Peter like he's the one in the wrong, here!?

"You said we were gonna catch the Dutchman today."

The little con-artist's voice is small. Peter has to wonder if it's, well, a con. But... He's not wrong. Peter had said that. Was this genuinely a misunderstanding? Did Neal think it was alright to leave his radius, because he thought going to where Peter is at is, essentially, going to work? After all, the office is outside of his radius, too.

(He's immensely relieved he has an excuse to put off making that call, but Neal doesn't need to know that. He needs to know this is serious for both of them.)

Peter takes a deep breath and lets it out again.

"Okay. I think maybe I didn't explain this well enough. You can't leave your radius without permission. You can go to the Bureau, because the people monitoring your anklet know where it is and what it is. Going places with me is okay, because I let them know you're with me beforehand. Coming to my house on your own isn't okay, because they don't know where I live. They'll think you escaped."

"Oh..."

Peter tries not to let out a relieved sigh at the kid's tone. Confirmation that it really had been a misunderstanding.

(Not really confirmation when working with a con-artist, but I'm treating it like confirmation anyhow.)

(For now.)

"Well," Elizabeth begins, drawing both of their attention. "Can't you just... Shift his radius, so he can come here? I mean," she looks at the kid, then at Peter, with those big, beautiful eyes of hers. "What if Neal needs something? He's your CI, so you're legally responsible for him now, right?"

(He wants to point out the kid's already got a mansion at his fingertips, but... June seems nice enough, really, but she's already admitted her late husband was a felon. What if she turns out to actually be a danger to Neal?)

(What if she's running drugs out of the house?)

(What if dangerous people come over to talk with her?)

(What if Neal sees something he's not supposed to and she decides leaving him alive is too big of a risk, especially with him working for the feds?)

"...I am... That's true..." He looks at the kid. Neal looks... Hopeful? Maybe? Peter's not sure.

(What if he's just doing this as a way to steal stuff from my house?)

(If he just takes one thing every morning before work, we probably won't even notice.)

(Or, maybe it really is like I thought when I caught him. Maybe he really just needs somebody to try for... Maybe he wants me and Elizabeth to be his 'somebody'.)

(We're a million times better than Kate.)

He sighs. "Okay. I'm gonna call the marshals back and let them know you're with me. Then, I'm gonna get them to shift your radius over, so my house is in range. If you meet me here in the mornings, it'll shorten my commute, anyhow." The kid grins brightly and Elle pats him on the shoulder. "But," Peter continues. "I want you here by seven-thirty. Don't be late."

"Okay." He's still grinning. Peter should be suspicious, but he's just glad the hurt look is gone.

(Neal still looks sick, though.)

"And, don't steal anything from my house."

"Of course, not."

(Was that sarcasm? I can't tell if that was sarcasm.)

"Alright," He says decisively, choosing to take all of this at face value for the moment. "Was there anything else you needed, before I finish getting ready and eat my breakfast?"

The kid's eyes light up with realization. "Oh. Yeah. I know who the Dutchman is."

Neal leads Peter to a church where the man he suspects of forging the bonds is working on a restoration project. Despite his profession, Peter's never really been one for art. Regardless, he can still appreciate anyone skilled enough to stand on a ladder and paint something over their head without the results looking like they came out of a kindergarten classroom.

(And, without breaking their neck.)

But, they're not here to admire the frescoes.

"You can't come in," the priest says, walking down the aisle towards them. "We're closed for restoration."

"Oh," Peter says, turning to leave. "Sorry, Father."

He's suspicious when Neal asks to speak to the man alone, but never let it be said Peter Burke stopped anyone from pursuing their religion. After all, he's pretty sure he saw a Crucifix in Neal's cell. Maybe the conman - Conkid? - got saved in prison and genuinely wants to turn over a new leaf. He hopes that's the case. He may not be Catholic, himself, anymore, but really does hope the kid can turn things around and build a better life for himself.

(Peter's pretty sure the Bible never implies you have to stop being annoying to get to heaven. That's a very good thing for Neal.)

(He's trying not to think about all the very beautiful and artistic pieces that were also in Neal's cell.)

(He's also trying not to think about how young Neal looks. Or, how sick Neal looks. Or, how he might've maybe accidentally gotten a teenager locked up a in real, grown-up, adult, supermax prison.)

(Possibly. It's still possible he's actually an adult that just looks young, right?)

(The kid's behavior is not reassuring, in the least. There's no way he's more than fifteen.)

"Sorry about that. We got five," Neal says, when he's finished.

"Did you just lie to a priest?"

"Not technically."

"Not technically. What does technically mean? What'd you tell him?"

He has to admit, the supposed initials hidden in the mural in the church are a lot like the ones Neal spotted on the bonds. It really could be this Hagen guy the conman suspects. But, Peter can't just follow his lead without more proof.

But, when Hagen shows up, acting... More than suspicious, Peter can't help but wonder.

"Okay," He relents. "You've got me curious. We'll check him out."

"It's so good to see such devout, young people," the Priest says, as they pass by him on their way out.

"Thank you, Father!" Neal grins widely, practically skipping, through the door.

"...Thank you, Father," Peter adds belatedly.

Yeah. He really needs to know what Neal told the man.

When they get back to the Bureau, Peter brings Danny to his office and starts flipping through a large folder. "Is this the information on Hagen?" The little ghost asks.

"No. Diana should have that soon, though."

Danny picks up one of the files and flips it open. "...Antique tea sets... Nancy Drew mysteries... A Mamma Mia dvd... What is all this?"

"It's called the Patriot Act," The agent replies, without looking up. "Mine and Elizabeth's anniversary is coming up and I'm trying to figure out what to get her. I thought maybe a fresh pair of eyes would have some good ideas."

Danny puts on his best Jazz Fenton Look of Disapproval™. "So, you're stalking your own wife?"

He must need to practice the Look™ some more, though, because Peter's not bothered in the least.

"Wha- Stalking? No," The man drags out sarcastically, clearly trying to hide a smirk. "Okay, maybe just a little."

Looks like their first order of business is to find a gift for Elizabeth, then. Fine by Danny. He's honestly kinda surprised his Core hadn't created a new Tie for the Burke Matriarch that morning. He'd say it's because it was the first time he'd ever met her, but that hadn't stopped it from making one for June.

(Maybe my Core's done making spontaneous Ties? Maybe it decided four was enough for the moment? That would be nice. I've got enough to juggle.)

"Why don't you just get her some pretty jewelry? Girls like that kinda stuff, right?"

Peter looks at him with an expression Danny can't quite place, for a disconcertingly long moment.

(Oops. Did that sound like a question a kid would ask? Maybe I should've framed it to sound older.)

(...But, how else do you ask that? Should I have said 'women' instead of 'girls'? Would that sound more grown up?)

(Or, was it the uncertainty that threw him? Should I have been more confident? Less confident?)

(Ergh! Being grown up is so complicated! Why do adults have to think through everything they say!?)

Suddenly, his handler shakes himself from his thoughts, though his expression isn't quite as schooled as he probably wants it to be. "Meh. Elizabeth likes jewelry, but she's got plenty of it. And, this is our tenth anniversary. I wanted to mix things up and make it special. Any ideas?" He looks suddenly very doubtful of Danny's ability to help, but like he's trying to hide it.

Danny thinks it over. What would he want for his birthday? From the people who're supposed to know him best? Sam would get him a new telescope. The newest and fanciest model, like she always did. Jazz would probably get him a book on astronomy. Tucker would pirate him another flight simulator. Mozzie would probably find a way to steal Galileo's "cannocchiali" telescopes from the Museo Galileo in Florence and give them to him.

(Unless he got distracted by how valuable they are and decided to sell them first. Then, he'd probably panic and get me something weird and random at the last minute.)

(Like his ba-knife-a.)

And, all of those gifts would make him happy. Because, they were all connected to his long-discarded dream. The dream of becoming an astronaut and exploring the stars beyond the confines of this earthly world.

"What's Elizabeth's dream?"

"Her dream?" Peter asks, not sure where the kid's going with this. "She has a lot of them, probably. She wants her business to succeed, but I can't exactly wrap success with a bow and hand it to her at the breakfast table.

(She wants to be known amongst the elite as a great party planner. She wants a long, healthy, happy life for the both of us. She wants to help others and make them happy. She loves charity work, especially for children.)

A few, vague ideas pop into his head. Would any of them work? How would he even go about them? A charity event in Elizabeth's name, showcasing her abilities, while helping inner-city kids would be just the sort of thing she'd come up with herself. But, could he even fund it properly? Just volunteering at a shelter was something she would absolutely do, but it wouldn't be a very romantic way to spend their evening. Maybe he should talk to her first. Find a quiet moment between their schedules and -

That's it! That's what he'll do! He'll take her on a trip. A few, romantic days away from everything, and he can talk to her about a more personalized gift while it's just the two of them.

(Yeah. Yeah, this could work.)

Then, Diana arrives with the files for their case.

Hagen's leaving the country. They have one week to get him, or Neal's going back to prison.

Danny walks into June's house and forces a smile as he catches sight of his oldest non-Amity-or-ghost friend. His current-strongest Tie.

(His Brother.)

"You're late."

"Hey, gimme a break, I'm a workin' man, again," He argues, sliding his hat across the top of the Piano to Mozzie, who puts it on his own head.

"So?"

"We were right about Hagen."

"Course, we were right. I assume that's not why you're so upset?"

Crud. Danny hadn't really expected to succeed at hiding his emotions from Mozzie, and hadn't intended to try for more than a few minutes, but he'd thought his acting skills had gotten better. Guess not.

"...I have one week to link him to the bonds."

"One week, or what?" Mozzie asks, concern etched into his features.

"I go back."

"No-no-no-no-no."

"Yeah." His voice cracks. If they can't do this, it's the end for him. Of course, Mozzie doesn't know that.

His Brother comes over to him. He doesn't hug Danny, because Mozzie doesn't like to be touched, but he makes sure Danny knows he's there, as much as he can be. Danny understands. It means a lot to him. He's grateful to have a Brother like Mozzie.

(He really needs a hug.)

To distract himself, he asks, "Did you find anything about Kate?"

Mozzie frowns, but walks around the other side of the beautiful, old instrument to pull out a picture, which he slides over to Danny.

"Apparently, if a tree falls in the forest, it does make a sound."

Danny knows Mozzie well enough to not bother asking what that means.

In the photo, Kate can be seen standing on what looks like a street corner with a man's hand on her shoulder. The rest of the other figure is out of frame, but a large ring can be seen on his finger.

"I've lost her again, Moz."

He's surprisingly okay with that. If this is some new boyfriend, he'll understand. It'll be a relief, actually. He's never really felt romantically towards her, anyhow, and he's still mad at her for betraying him. He still misses her, but it's on a supernatural level and only because she's his Family. But, as long as he's got other Ties, missing her won't kill him. He doesn't know what he wants from Kate, but he knows he wants her to be happy and hopes they can still be friends.

"Lost her?" Mozzie argues. "I just found her."

There's this niggling, little part of his Core that's worried that, whoever this new man is, he won't be good to her. But, Danny knows from experience with Jazz and Sam dating that he can't just butt in. Family trusts Family to make their own life-choices. He'll wait for Kate to come back on her own, then he'll show her that he's happy for her and only step in if she needs him to. He'll focus on Mozzie and Peter and June and try to keep his worrying about Kate to a minimum.

(If she can move on, so can I.)

(We really can't, though.)

(We'll work on it.)

(Good luck.)

"Maybe, she doesn't wanna be found."

Whoever this man is, he'd better treat her right. Danny doesn't need his powers to give someone nightmares. He learned to be powerful from his death. But, he learned to be terrifying from his mother and his Brother.

The next morning, as he and Peter walk to work, Danny spots his Brother mingling in a group of people smoking outside the FBI building. He comes over to them and fumbles around asking Peter for directions, using the opportunity to slip Danny a piece of paper. The ruse is as cheesy as anything they've ever pulled, but that's Mozzie for ya. It's always fun to play along with his Brother, anyways.

The look on Peter's face is a bonus.

When they get to the warehouse Mozzie's information places Hagen at, they can actually hear the printing press running inside. Danny's worried, at first, that it's just his super-hearing, but he knows Peter hears it too, when the agent suddenly pulls out his phone and calls in for recording equipment.

Unfortunately, it's not enough. They need a warrant. They need a real, legal reason - Not just the sounds of machinery, - to get inside that building.

Peter wants to meet Mozzie. Danny would love to have his Ties all be friends and get along, but he also knows just how unlikely that is with these two Ties in particular.

(Sam and Tucker's fighting had nearly torn him out of his frame on more than one occasion.)

Instead, he lies. Says he'll introduce them in the morning. Then, he takes the book on warrant law home from the office and studies it with all his might, hoping to find a loophole.

(A part of him wants to ask his Brother for advice, but a much bigger part of him is terrified Mozzie'll go to ground without him, if he thinks the FBI's looking into him.)

(Terrified Mozzie'll resent him, because it'd be Danny's fault if it happened.)

Now. Danny will admit, he's never been one for overthinking things unless he has no choice. He's always believed in giving things only as much brain matter as they absolutely have to have, then running with it. But, even he knows this is pretty stupid, from a human standpoint.

It's not his fault, though. If his stupid Core wasn't constantly reminding him of the hunger he felt in prison last time, of living with barely any news on his Ties' whereabouts and safety, unless they were directly in front of him... Of the torment he's gonna feel going back to that cold lonesomeness this time with only Mozzie and Peter's scarce visits -

(Maybe June'll come, too?)

- to sustain him and no regular access his Ties...

Constantly wondering if Peter's working on a dangerous case and about to be shot at any moment...

Constantly worrying if June's getting mugged or scammed or bothered by someone who looks at her and only sees dollar signs. Who doesn't appreciate the pure kindness in her eyes...

Constantly worrying about Kate, out there, who knows where, doing who knows what, with some new beau who might not be treating her right...

Constantly worrying Mozzie'll get bored and find a new partner and forget about him...

He can't do it.

(He won't survive it.)

So, instead, Danny does what he does best when his Family is in danger: He grabs the first, mildly-plausible idea he can find, chucks something at the enemy's stupid face, and jumps in feet-first.

Danny moves on instinct. He hops the first bus he can headed in the direction of the warehouse.

He probably should've thought this through better, but, then, he always thinks that, and it almost always works out alright in the end.

(Except for that time you destroyed the world.)

(Or, that time all of reality got altered and you had to re-alter it and wipe everyone's memories.)

(Or, that time you ran away from home, accidentally blew up your house, and caused no less than four trials that made nation-wide coverage, involving child neglect, reckless endangerment, so many governmental conspiracies Mozzie might actually faint, twenty-five deaths - Or, wait, do you count? - so many ethics violations, and -)

(We're here.)

He doesn't remember any of the walk from the bus stop. He's pretty sure he didn't fly, because his energy levels don't seem to have gone down any. It's only seconds after he arrives that he's spotted.

"Get outta here, kid, if ya know what's good for ya!"

Danny stammers for a moment, not having actually thought about what to say once he got here. When he doesn't move, the men look at each other, then grab him. He doesn't put up a fight as he's led into the building, glad they don't actually hurt him. He's trying to be careful, really, he's just hungry and not thinking straight.

(He still won't survive it if he gets shipped back to prison tomorrow.)

(Without the strength to overshadow the doctor, he's probably better off destabilizing, rather than being discovered.)

He looks around at the operation they've got going as he's led to Hagen's office and shoved inside. Danny thinks fast. He reaches for the key that's still in the door and locks it, praying the glass walls are bullet-proof.

"Open the door!" One of the goons shouts, slamming his gun against the transparent barrier. "You're dead, kid!"

Danny smirks.

(Bingo.)

"That sounds like inch-thick Lexan."

(Mom and dad could build something way stronger, but it'll do.)

Hagen, who'd arrived just in time to see all this, turns to another goon, who hurries off in the other direction. He then turns back to Danny. "Keys're on the way.

Danny responds by doing what he does best: Annoying Fruitloops.

He looks around curiously and whistles in appreciation. He spins Hagen's desk chair, just to see how fast it'll go. Then, he jumps into it as roughly as he can and props his feet on the desk.

Finally, he looks the man dead in the eyes, speaking up to be heard through the thick glass. "You shouldn't've signed the bonds. Like, I totally get it. I'm kinda conceited, myself, so stuff like that's really tempting for me. But, tempting doesn't make it not stupid."

"I'm gonna kill you," The man replies simply, as though talking about the weather. "I hope whatever they're givin' you... Is worth it."

Danny thinks of Mozzie, his Brother in all but blood, who would and has killed for him.

He thinks of June and her kind eyes and her open heart.

He thinks of Kate, somewhere out there, then pushes the thought away.

He thinks of Peter, fumbling his way through relationships he clearly doesn't understand, but seems to care about anyway.

He thinks of his parents, battling through every situation they've ever faced with more determination than most of Amity Park combined.

Of Sam and her conviction to fight for what she believes in, no matter the cost or opponent.

Of Tucker's loyalty and intellect and brilliant mind for technology.

Of Jazz's love and near-endless patience and understanding, even for an undead, little brother.

He thinks of his Family, both old and new.

His Core cries out for all of them.

"It is."

It's at that moment he hears the sirens approaching. The tires screeching.

When Hagen turns a confused look on him, he smirks, pulling his pants-leg up to reveal the anklet, green light now blinking red. "Oh, yeah, did I forget to mention I'm a fugitive?"

If he weren't so worried, Peter would probably smile as he and a dozen other police vehicles roll up to the warehouse.

They might just get Hagen with this stunt, but Neal is in so much trouble.

(He hopes the kid is alright.)

"Gentlemen, we have a fugitive hiding in this building," He announces with urgency. "Knock down those doors."

Danny watches the goons around him scramble to gather their things and make tracks. Unfortunately for them, the doors suddenly burst open to reveal a large group of armed agents. The next thing the young ghost knows, Peter and Diana are stepping in through the smoke, like something out of a movie.

"This is what the law calls an 'exigent circumstance'." And, wow, Danny didn't know Peter had this much showmanship in him. It looks good on him. "Any o' you Harvard grads know what that is?" He adds to the younger agents making who-knows-how-many arrests around them. "Huh? No hands? Diana!"

"Exigent circumstance allows us to pursue a suspect onto private property without obtaining a warrant," The woman supplies instantly.

"And, to seize any and all evidence that is discovered in plain view," Peter continues. "regardless of the connection to the original crime." He grabs one of the bonds and holds it up in front of Hagen. "Hey? Remember me? Friend?"

Danny watches as the agent laughs in Hagen's face, before making his way towards the little office he's locked himself into.

Danny makes a show of stealing one of Hagen's expensive cigars and lighting it up with one of the man's fancy lighters, as he waits for his handler to reach him. He opens the door for him and sits down on the desk.

It's not like he's gonna get lung cancer. He's not even entirely sure he has lungs anymore. Not real ones, anyway.

Peter grins at him. Then, he walks over, ruffles Danny's hair, -

(Don't think about dad's hair-ruffles. I don't need to cry in front of an FBI agent.)

- and deftly yanks the cigar out of Danny's mouth.

"Hey!" Danny whines, as the agent calmly puts it out in the ash tray then drops it unceremoniously into the trash can by the desk.

"You're not old enough to smoke."

"Hey, I'm totally -"

"Then, look like it."

"I can't just change how I look."

"Thought you were a master of disguise, or something."

"I'm a master of blending in. There's a difference."

Peter grins at him. "You know, you're really bad at this escape thing."

Danny pouts a moment, before realizing it probably isn't helping his case. He scoots over to make room for Peter, who hops up onto the desk beside him. "You gonna arrest me, too?"

Peter hums thoughtfully. "Well, you are a fleeing suspect."

What if I happened to find the original Victory Bond, in all this?" He turns to look over his shoulder to the safe he'd cracked open during all the commotion, - Using the code Hagen had so graciously left on the desk, - drawing Peter's attention to it.

His handler smiles again. "I think we can work something out."

(We like Peter.)

(Meh. He's not so bad.)

(For a fed.)

Chapter Text

After that first case, things go... Well, not smoothly, per say, but not as bad as they could.

Danny pointedly does not go after Kate. Why would he? She clearly doesn't care too much about him to betray him and then abandon him just before he's released. He works hard as a CI, only complains about mortgage fraud most of the time, and, if he does say so himself, earns more than his seven hundred dollars a month.

When the other agents start using him for coffee runs, he acts like he's put out by it, but is actually a little excited to get back to the list he and Mozzie had been making before his first, human arrest.

(Wait, does the alternate timeline with the cross-country road-trip and the GIW chasing us count as a human arrest?)

(No.)

(How about that time with Freakshow and the jewelry store?)

(Nuh-uh.)

He and Peter make a surprisingly good team. When they're not annoying each other by just existing, at least.

For their second case, - Outside of anything related to mortgage fraud, which Danny is decidedly not counting, - they throw a huge, rooftop garden party to catch a guy who's hiding sensitive information in the linings of models' dresses and murdered one one his accomplices.

Danny takes great offense, once again, to their culprit's chosen title, The Ghost.

Peter takes great offense to the sheer number of models Danny manages to get to come to the party. The little ghost wonders how long it'll take him to realize it's just because they think he's cute and not because any of them are actually taking his flirting seriously.

(Kate's the only one who ever does.)

He suspects half of the models think it's his birthday party.

The case after that comes from a mobster, of all people, who starts them off on a convoluted search for an antique book of hours believed to have healing powers. The book gets stolen from a Catholic church, then stolen from the first thief by a second thief, who then gets it stolen by a third thief and winds up dead in a river.

Which, wow, this feels like a lot of murder for a white collar crime unit. Danny's barely been on the job three weeks. But, hey, he's already dead, so it's not like he's scared. Just worried for th ehumans on their team. So long as no other ghosts show up and encroach on his territory, he's happy to trade his -

(Much needed!)

- assistance here for the time he'd have otherwise spent -

(Literally.)

- rotting away in prison.

Besides, Peter actually trusted him enough to let him - Or, rather, Mozzie, - do some real work on the case, since some guy named Ruiz had jurisdiction over the murder and wouldn't share the information to help their case. Danny thinks that's pretty childish, for the people who're supposed to help other people for a living. But, he's glad Peter seems to be starting to appreciate Danny's talents, so long as they're not being used for anything -

(Too.)

- illegal.

He feels better. His Ties are getting stronger. He's at maybe ten percent, now.

(Despite his bad acting skills, Peter's surprisingly manipulative when it comes to convincing people Danny doesn't need to go undercover. He really does care under all that awkwardness.)

(Elizabeth is really nice. He can definitely see her earning herself a Tie of her own, - The traditional way, of course, by being a good friend. - now that his Core's stopped making spontaneous Ties with everyone who shows a modicum of kindness to him.)

(Technically, Mozzie's Tie is strong enough to sustain him now, so long as he's careful. But, he supposes it's a good thing not to be reliant on just the one Tie.)

(Unless one of them decides to leave, like Kate did. We can't be in two places at once. Not anymore.)

After that, they help out a Navy Seal who's being framed for the theft and smuggling of Iraqi artifacts. Apparently, he's the husband of one of Elizabeth's friends. And, wow, Mrs. Burke can be seriously intense when she wants to be.

(Why couldn't Kate be that loyal and loving?)

As Peter goes to badge his way into the less publicly-accessible parts of the building their suspect works in, Danny keeps himself occupied by flirting with the girl sitting next to him. Just for practice.

"So, what's it like being on camera?"

The young woman laughs, a little shyly. "Oh, I'm not on camera."

"Oh. It's just, your badge says 'Studio access'."

She laughs again. "I'm a publicist, actually."

She looks at him and smiles sweetly, a kind curiosity Danny's all too familiar with shining in her eyes. He knows what's coming before she even speaks.

"Do you have plans of becoming a news personality when you're older? Do your parents work here?"

Before he can reply, her phone beeps.

"Looks like they just moved my meeting to twelve-thirty." She smiles at him again as she grabs her things. "Good luck, sweetie. With eyes like those, I won't be surprised if I see you in Tiger Beat someday."

She has the audacity to boop his nose before walking away.

Danny is so glad nobody's around to see it, especially Mozzie or any of the agents Danny now works with.

"I'm twenty-one," He mutters aloud, if only for his own sake.

When his phone rings a few seconds later and Peter says he needs him to watch their suspect's reaction when the guy manning the door tells her the FBI is here, he decides to lean into it. After all, that's what he'd been doing before he got caught, and it's not like he's aged any since then.

(I just need to make sure none of the FBI agents ever see me doing it. I'll never live it down.)

(Diana makes enough jokes as it is.)

He notes the woman's reaction, then heads for the door. He swipes a guest badge from someone leaving the building, then runs around the corner to get coffee. Lots of coffee.

"Hey, um, are you Mr. Phil?" He asks the man guarding the door, smiling awkwardly and trying to make his eyes look bigger and more amazed at the building around him than he actually is.

"That's me, kid. Whatcha got there?"

"Coffee," He replies, shifting the cups to cover the name that is most definitely not his on his guest badge. "My Aunt Judy said if you wanna get anywhere in this business, you gotta start at the bottom and work hard." He smirks conspiratorially, "So, I offered to run coffee for everybody on the set for five bucks. Beat that, minimum wage." He doesn't bother to hide the crack in his voice he usually struggles to disguise.

(People have definitely noticed, anyways.)

(Mozzie thinks it's hilarious.)

He does, however, give a maybe-a-little-too-enthusiastic fist-pump and nearly drop everything. Phil is so distracted helping him keep all the cups upright, he forgets to check the badge on his chest.

The big man laughs. "Good for you. Which office ya need, my man?"

(If anyone ever asks, that was totally planned.)

Danny flips the name tag over to hide the name on it, then gets off the elevator. One of the ladies behind the big desk used for broadcast thinks it's adorable he's working as a mini stage assistant and even takes a few photos with him, which she then signs.

After that, Danny follows their suspect to her office, waits until she leaves, and photocopies the documents she hides in the top drawer of her desk while Peter interviews her.

He's pretty happy with himself.

His handler, not so much.

Oh, well. He feels like he makes up for it when Peter finally meets Mozzie - Or, rather, Dante Haversham, - later that night.

"Thought you'd be taller."

"Still taller than Niel."

"Not cool."

Danny spends the rest of the night being made fun of and having his wine stolen, 'cause he's "not old enough". But, despite that, the whole case gives him more hope for his blossoming, new Ties. After all, Mozzie doesn't hit people with a car for just anybody.

About a week later, they help a young woman the same -

(Chronological.)

- age as Danny retrieve a painting stolen from her home.

"I was named after her." Julianna explains, showing Danny an old photo of her grandmother sitting by the painting in question. "She raised me. When she died, she left me the house... And, the painting."

"What'd your uncle think o' that?"

She looks skeptical for a moment. "...Shouldn't you leave the questions to your dad?"

Danny's not ashamed to admit he blue-screens for a moment. By the time he gets his wits about him again, Peter's coming back.

"You got the photo?" He asks. Danny nods dumbly. "Let's go."

He bids a weak goodbye to the girl and follows after his handler.

Getting the name of the guy Gary owes money to is almost too easy.

"Does Julianna know you helped steal the painting?"

The man blinks down at Danny, then recognition dawns in his eyes. "Look, kid, I know what it's like to wanna be just like your old man, but you can't be here any more than he can. My lawyer was very clear -"

"First of all, hiring a lawyer makes you look guilty," Danny interrupts, rolling his eyes.

"He told me, specifically, not to talk to the FBI. I'm gonna assume that includes their brats."

Danny chuckles darkly. "Assumptions, assumptions." At the man's confusion, he adds, "Don't be too hard on yourself. You're not even the first person today to think I'm Agent Burke's kid." Just the second one ever. "But, I'm not a kid. And, I'm not FBI."

(I'm twenty-one and I'm a CI working for the FBI.)

"...Who are you?"

"Think hard, Gary. Who needs people who can blend in anywhere? Who no one would ever suspect?"

"He's taking on kids?"

"I'm older than I look."

Of course, things can never run smoothly for too long. Not when Danny's involved.

"Get behind on your payment," Peter describes their guy once they get back to the Bureau, "they firebomb your office."

"Ouch."

"But, the good news is: We've got a meeting with him. Tomorrow."

Danny blinks, wondering why that's good news. "How'd you arrange that?"

"Taryn Vandersant, a buyer at the Lambert gallery, has been nice enough to help us out on this one. She's convinced Dorsett that she has a wealthy client who's interested in buying the painting. - Ah. There she is, now."

A beautiful redhead walks into the meeting room and Danny smiles at her welcomingly. He pointedly does not try flirting with her. With the way things have been going for him today, he doesn't want to fail that spectacularly in front of the entire team.

(Besides, keeping Peter in the dark about his flirting methods is bringing him far too much entertainment. The man just can't figure out how he gets so many girls' attention.)

"Miss Vandersant," Peter greets.

"Agent Burke," She replies.

"Glad to have you aboard. You've arranged to have the exchange happen at the gallery?"

"I have," she confirms.

"Wonderful. This is Agent Diana Barrigan. She'll be the one accompanying you to the meeting."

"Agent Barrigan," Vandersant greets, then looks around. "Will Mr. Caffrey be arriving soon?"

(There it is.)

"His input from the less-than-legal side of things could be invaluable in pulling this off."

"I'm Mr. Caffrey. Actually," Danny says, standing and offering her his hand. "Call me Niel."

She blinks and takes his hand. Then, she turns a look that's somehow both confused and scathing on Peter. "I wasn't aware the FBI had children on their payroll."

"I'm thirty-two, actually," Danny lies, giving his alias's age. When he'd asked Mozzie why he went with something so far off, he'd said something cryptic about pretending to be old so everybody knew he was young, but Danny'd kinda lost the plot on that one.

"And, I'm a pink-haired dolphin named Sheila."

"Yeah, nobody believes you're thirty-two, Niel," Peter readily agrees. "But," he adds, "He's not going in."

Vandersant nods, but still doesn't seem happy. "And, you're sure Agent Barrigan can pull this off? No offense, but everyone in the art business has heard about deals gone wrong thanks to the FBI's bad acting."

"And, that's why Niel will be coaching her."

"I will?"

"Hey, you did a pretty good job training Jones and Cruz for our last case."

"Jones and Cruz got shot at."

"So did I. Occupational hazard. Just be glad we're not sending you in as the buyer, instead. Junior."

Danny bristles. "Just because I look younger than I am -"

He's cut off, suddenly, when his hat is picked up off the table and shoved down over his head.

"Come on, Niely. We got a lotta work to do and not much time to do it," Diana says, heading for the door. "If I get shot for my acting skills, I'm coming back as a ghost to haunt you."

Danny's jaw drops open, but he forces himself to look at Peter instead of replying with the many things he has to say about that.

"You heard the lady," The man smirks.

Danny can't believe this. He's actually being demoted to amateur acting coach for the feds. Permanently, if Peter has any say about it. It could certainly be a lot worse, and he does appreciate Peter trying to protect him, but still.

Diana's shark-like grin does nothing to comfort him.

His next problem makes itself apparent the following day.

He tries to ignore his super-hearing most of the time, honest. Most of what he usually overhears is none of his business and nothing of interest, anyhow. Instead, he tries to focus on the pieces in the gallery around him. After all, Niel Caffrey - No matter which way they're spelling his name today, - is supposed to be a lover of the arts, a romantic with an innate understanding of the nuances and complicated emotions behind even the most unusual works.

But, Danny just really isn't. All those rumors about him had come from the adventures he and Mozzie and Alex and Kate had gone on during their short time in Copenhagen, as well as the insane rumors that seemed to magically sprout from any ground Mozzie walked on. His Brother had advised him to, once again, lean into the conclusions people were coming to and make himself into an enigma. It had kind of worked, but hadn't kept him from ultimately being found and arrested.

(And, as far as artistic taste goes, he personally prefers the works of artists like Thomas Kincade and Belinda Leigh to Pollock or Mondrian.)

(Danny says Van Gogh painted like a third-grader, but that one song about him is pretty.)

(Mozzie says Danny's a philistine and Christian Riese Lassen's Galaxy of Life III looks like something out of Yu-Gi-Oh GX.)

(Like that's some kinda bad thing.)

But, back to his current dilemma. The conversations around him are decidedly interesting today.

So, when he finds himself standing in the Lambert Gallery with Peter, looking at a giant pile of fabric enclosed in mesh wire that just sold for a hundred and twenty thousand dollars... He can't help but be on the agent's side.

In other words: He's bored. And, he's trying to keep his hands to himself and not touch anything, as one of the museum's people has already had to stop Peter from doing.

(And, a part of him's also idly wondering who has that much money to drop on what Peter had accurately called 'a big load of laundry' and how he can get them to throw a little of it his way.)

And, just in the other room, Diana keeps flirting with Taryn, then wandering away to do something else, then coming back for more flirting. And, Jones is doing the same thing, but only when Diana leaves. And, Danny doesn't think either agent is aware the other is flirting with the woman. And, he wants to join in on the fun, but he's pretty sure Taryn wouldn't appreciate it, since she keeps making a point of his apparent age.

He sighs internally. It's gonna be a long day.

Once the deal actually starts, Danny sits in the other room with Peter and Jones and listens in, feeding Diana lines through an earpiece hidden by her hair. They'd decided one for each of the girls was too big a risk and, since Taryn knows more about art, Diana's the one more likely to need it.

He's really grossed out by the man flirting with both of them. - Dorsett reminds him of a disgusting combination of Vlad and Gregor. - But, otherwise, everything goes great.

Right up until the agents stationed outside tip Dorsett off and the girls are suddenly at gunpoint.

(Seriously!? Taryn was right, my expertise is going to be invaluable. These people couldn't nab a role in a kindergarten play! They're signaling each other!? Could they be any more obvious!?)

(You should tutor Peter, next. So he doesn't get shot. Our old Ties metaphorically dying just made us feel bad, but all our ghostly allies said the physical death of a mortal Tie hurts really bad.)

"Diana," He says aloud, "Act like you're just as suspicious as he is. Like you think he set you up."

It isn't great, but Diana's acting is better than some of her peers. When their bad guys get away, Danny's just glad everybody's alright and he's not the one in handcuffs this time.

(He tries to ignore Diana and Taryn's... 'Conversation' inside the cop car, but it's not easy. Why can't he be just a little taller?)

(It'd take more than a little.)

(Shut up.)

"So," Elizabeth starts, as she and Peter walk down the street, holding hands cutely like they have ever since they first started dating, "how upset were they that you lost the hundred grand?"

"'Upset' is a bit of an understatement," her husband admits. He tells her about the investigation they've started over it.

"Well, at least Neal didn't take it," She jokes.

"Yeah," he agrees, straightening his tie. "Kid's making a lot of progress. He still has his moments. He's a little reckless, and very impulsive, and I wouldn't put it past him to try something eventually, - Well, besides stealing my wallet, which he still does every other day, but he always gives it back once I notice. I think he just wants to see how long it takes for me to notice. - but... I think he's really trying to change, this time."

"Well, I'm glad. I hope he can turn his life around," She smiles. "You figure out how old he actually is, yet?"

He laughs at that. "No, but you should'a seen him when Taryn thought he was a little kid and asked where Caffrey was. I thought he was gonna melt into his chair. He couldn't have acted more like a teenager if he tried. I swear I saw him pouting about it earlier." He sighs. "I still don't understand how he gets the attention of all these beautiful women. They can't think he's of age. Should I arrest them?"

She shrugs. "I honestly don't know, hon. I mean, Neal claims he's an adult and all his paperwork backs him up."

"His very forged paperwork."

"Well, yeah, but... You can't arrest anybody until you know for sure, right? What if he's just a twenty-something who looks like a kid. Plenty do."

"Yeah, that's the problem." Peter smirks and pulls her in close. "After all, I married a woman who could still be mistaken for a teenager."

Elizabeth loves her husband.

Danny doesn't like the curator from the Channing Museum. He doesn't like him when he first gets a look at him, - He looks like he's practicing a bad lie in his head, - and he definitely doesn't like him once he starts talking. He reminds him of Vlad playing mayor.

(A lot of people are reminding us of Vlad, lately. Probably not a good sign.)

"I have a question," Danny raises his hand mockingly. "The painting was stolen in '67, but it's not listed on the Art-Loss Registry."

(Thank you, Mozzie, for the crash course.)

The man looks surprised that Danny even knows what that is, but answers anyway. "The Registry was established in 1990."

"'91, actually," He corrects, loving the vein he can now see in the man's forehead. "You could've refiled the claim."

"Agent Burke," He turns to Peter. "I understand how hard it must be, being a single parent, -" Peter makes a noise Danny can't quite describe, but will cherish forever. "- but must your son sit in on the meeting with us?"

"Agent Burke, got a question for you," Jones says, leaning in and knocking on the door for attention. Peter excuses himself and walks out, leaving Danny alone in the office with Julianna.

The blonde stares at him suspiciously for a moment, before demanding, "What's going on?"

Danny, who's been tossing and catching his rubber band ball on the windowsill, comes around the desk, checking that the others are out of earshot. Once satisfied, he takes a deep breath and meets Julianna's eyes. "You're not a very good liar. Your grandmother stole the painting."

"Is that what your dad told you?"

(Oh, for the love of -)

"Peter's not my dad. I'm his CI. Stands for Criminal Informant. He got me on bond forgery a couple years ago. Suspects me of quite a few other things that he's constantly trying to trick me into admitting. Among those suspicions are several art heists."

"You expect me to believe you're an art thief? You're, what? Fourteen?"

(Wow, she actually guessed. People're usually a year or two off.)

He pulls up his pants-leg and shows her the anklet. "Between you and me, I'm twenty-one."

(Chronologically.)

"I let Peter wonder, 'cause it gives him gray hairs."

"Anyone in this office could've put that on you to get me to believe you. Got any real proof?"

Danny glances back up again, then smirks and pulls out his wallet, removing a photocopied picture of him and Jazz dressed as Neil Armstrong and Albert - Or, rather, Alberta, - Einstein. The timestamp reads 10/31/94. He doesn't normally carry photos from his old life with him, - And, he definitely doesn't carry the originals. Those are all in a lock box, which is, in turn, inside one of Mozzie's fireproof safes, - but...

It's been almost three years. Next Friday is the anniversary of the day he left home. The Sunday after that is the anniversary of the day his house blew up and his old Ties died.

He's feeling sentimental. Sue him.

It takes some more convincing, but Julianna finally tells him about how her grandma might have hypothetically gone about stealing the painting all those years ago. Then, she shows him something sentimental of her own.

"Your grandmother's the little girl in the painting."

Chapter Text

Man, it's bad enough how antsy Danny's feeling, but he cannot stand the smell of deviled ham. Even Tucker doesn't like the stuff, and he'll eat almost anything meat. He's so relieved when Peter lets him get out of the car and he can finally stretch his legs.

It's even better when he spots the exact person they're looking for.

"Excusez-moi," Danny smiles shyly, walking up to the pair of French blondes and not bothering to hide how self-conscious he's feeling. The French lessons he'd gotten from Sam are probably more than a little rusty, but he'll make them work. "Are you Brigette Garnier? The model?"

The taller one blinks. "Yes. That is me."

"And, who are you, cutie?" her friend asks.

He looks over his shoulder to where Peter is, checking he's once again distracted by the game on the radio. He is.

He turns back towards the girls, but keeps his eyes focused downwards, toeing the ground with one of the fancy shoes that used to belong to June's eldest son. "Um. I'm Niel. I, uh... I'm a big fan of yours, and, I..." He looks up at them, expression pleading. "Do you think that maybe I have what it takes to make it as a model, someday?"

"Oh, little butterfly, I think you will make a gorgeous model!" Brigette's friend coos.

"American boys are usually not so interested in this, yes?" Brigette, herself, continues. He nods. "It can be hard to... 'go against the crane' they say? But, I think you will do a marvelous job."

"Perhaps you will even find your way to France and can work with us, no?"

He widens his eyes. "Really? You think so?"

"But, of course, darling!" She waves someone over. A photographer. "Would you like a picture with us? And, then, maybe we could give you some advice on getting into the modeling business."

He blinks, then smiles, not having to fake the awestruck emotions he's now feeling. That was way too easy. "Yeah! Yes! Please! That would be amazing!" He twists to look over his shoulder at Peter's car, struggling to keep the mischievous tone out of his voice. "Just lemme ask my dad."

Peter genuinely has no idea what's going on.

One minute, he's sitting in the car, enjoying a few minutes of peaceful sandwich-eating and game-listening-to without Neal and his innate jitters to disrupt him, and the next, the little con's dragging him up to Brigette's hotel room with another girl and a photographer of some sort. Now, all he can do is try to discretely search the room for the hundred grand while watching the photographer set up some kind of backdrop and take photo after photo of his CI with the two models and trying to remember enough of his high school French lessons to follow a single sentence.

Elle calls while he's still there and he asks if she has any clue what they're saying, but, unfortunately, she can't make much out, because they're all talking over each other excitedly. They also choose this moment to drag Peter into the group shot, which is disorienting, to say the least. Elle seems to find his awkwardness hilarious, even over the phone. She does mention the girls keep calling Neal 'handsome', though.

How does his CI do these things!? He's five-foot-nothing. He looks like he just finished middle school. How does he have two, tall, gorgeous, French blondes hanging on his every word and making over him like he's some sort of... Victoria's Secret model, or something?

At least, they don't seem to have any serious... Erm... Intentions at the moment. He just doesn't know how exactly he would handle that situation. For now, they're just talking.

Sandwiched so closely together on the couch that Neal's pale skin looks like the center of an Oreo squished between the pair of little, black dresses. But, still. They're just talking.

Funnily enough, the kid's awkwardness from when he'd talked to Taryn is nowhere to be seen.

(Is that his tell? He only gets embarrassed when he actually means the flirting? He can fake it for this because he knows it's just for the case?)

(Wait. No. What are they doing? Why are they going towards the bedroom!)

It's fine. It's fine. Neal's sitting on the bed and the girls are dressing him up in different hats and scarves and things and giggling while they take more photos. One of them says something to Peter. He has no idea what it means, but then he's being roped into the whole thing, once again.

"Un si beau père et fils!"

"...Gesundheit."

"All that, -" Peter grumbles, pausing to straighten his tie and trying to wipe the lipstick off is mouth. No one had kissed him. The girls apparently just thought it was his color.

(Danny might've hinted that his 'dad' was self-conscious about his pale lips. Just a little.)

"- and we're no closer to the money, the painting, or Dorsett."

"I wouldn't say that," Danny smirks.

That gives Peter pause. "You saw something?"

Not exactly. But, he saw that the mirror had been moved, and he knows where he would absolutely never hide the painting if he'd taken it, because it's the kind of place people who don't steal paintings for a living hide things when they think they're being clever. "How long'll it take you to get a search warrant for their hotel room?" He asks, instead of answering.

He wishes he could just steal it himself, but his powers are still recharging. He's not in starvation mode anymore, - He'd say he's around twenty-four percent battery, at the moment, - but it's a near thing. So, he'll just have to do things the legal/human way, for now.

Twenty-four hours later, they pull down the mirror while Dorsett and Brigette are both out. Sure enough, the painting's inside a niche in the back. They take it back to the office, where Danny not only authenticates it before they call the people from the Channing back in, - No need to waste their 'important' time over a possible fake, - but when they discover the note on the back...

"Well, well..."

As Dorsett is arrested for possession of the stolen artwork, Mozzie gets to work spreading the word that the Channing disrespected Haustenberg's dying wish and is now trying to steal the painting from his remaining family. By the time the piece is authenticated officially, the huge wave of public backlash ensures its safe return to Julianna by the end of the week, the museum framing it as a service to Haustenberg's descendants, instead of a cover-up.

"I offered to make the Channing a copy for display," Danny says, just to see the face Peter makes.

"Oh, really? How'd they take that?" His handler replies, sarcastic and unconcerned. He probably knows Danny's joking, but it's fun to make him wonder.

The little ghost grins at him, but doesn't answer, grabbing his hat and making for the door.

"Niel? ...Niel!"

For Danny and Peter's fifth, major case, the higher ups, much to Peter's dismay, force Nicky Halden out of retirement. Peter and, surprisingly, a couple others in the office whose names Danny doesn't even know put up a fight, but it's no use.

Oh, well. At least, Nicky gets immunity out of it all.

It's a simple mission, but undoubtedly dangerous. They need him to get info on a money-launderer by the name of Lao Shen, by infiltrating an underground gambling ring he frequents. Fortunately, everyone who's ever heard of Nicky knows he's short for his age, so no one bats an eye at his appearance. After he introduces himself, at least.

Things are going great, up until the NYPD crashes their sting and the ghost-kid winds up getting taken hostage by one of Lao's girls.

Danny wonders, briefly, which he's experienced the most of at this point; Kidnappings, arrests, or attacks by supposed-to-be-inanimate objects.

He can already hear Peter's lecture about the whole situation ringing in his ears. As if he can help it.

Danny watches as Meilin pours the rest of the alcohol down the sink and uses the empty glass to smash the watch acting in place of his anklet for the operation.

"Hey! That was an expensive -"

"Fake?"

His brain registers the sound of a gun being cocked before the sight of it. He'd panicked upon seeing the weapons trained on the room earlier and acted almost entirely on instinct, turning intangible involuntarily, even behind the table he'd used as a shield. But, now that the adrenaline is waning, he has to fight against the far-too-many memories of similar situations in his past. Maybe those guns didn't contain traditional bullets, but the intentions of the people wielding them were undoubtedly worse than whatever this girl will do if he displeases her.

It isn't easy, but he manages to hold in his snark as he listens to Meilin's villain rant. Turns out, she's actually Interpol.

Because, of course she is.

"If you take Lao, we'll never get to his boss. He's a much bigger fish."

Well, at least, now that he knows she's probably not actually gonna shoot him, he can stop holding his tongue. It's like Tucker always said about his ghostly enemies, "Dude, if they don't wanna be talked to like idiots, they should stop acting like idiots."

"Oh, that's what this is," he smirks. "You're mad my tiny, little corner of the FBI's outdoing you all on their own."

"No."

"Your eyes say yes."

"My gun says I'm gonna shoot you, if you don't shut up." She waits a moment to see if he complies. He does, but only because he's planning his next quip in advance. "You're gonna let Lao walk."

"Uh. No."

(I not gonna betray Peter. I'm probably physically incapable of it, actually.)

(There is literally nothing in this for me.)

"Uh. Yes. You're gonna botch the deal," She tells him. "Besides, if you help me, I'll make sure you get the one thing you want most." She's barking up the wrong tree. Danny likes money, but he likes feeling healthy better, and he can only get that from healthy Ties.

"Oh, a new watch?" He snarks.

"Kate."

It hurts, but he's not giving in that easily. "I dunno where you got your information from, but Kate and I aren't really a thing, anymore." Not on a human level, anyhow. And, their supernatural 'thing' isn't all that strong, now that he's got actual sustenance from multiple sources again. And, it's never really been the type of 'thing' Meilin's probably thinking it is.

The agent before him clearly wasn't expecting that. "You don't wanna know where she is? Who she's with?"

"Kate and I dated for a couple months. I care about her as a friend. But, she left me and I'm not about to disrespect her decisions or chase after someone who both betrayed me and has made it clear they don't want me in their life anymore."

She tells him to think it over and leaves the room, presumably to talk to her superiors about what to do next. Danny uses the opportunity to make his escape.

With proper access to so many Ties again, - June is quickly working her way up the list and has already surpassed Peter, not that that's surprising. She's just a more open person by nature. - he can actually afford to use just a little bit of ghostliness. Not much. His instinctual stunt from earlier wore him out a little and he can't risk how many security cameras might be in or around the building or risk running out of energy in the middle of what he's about to do. But, he can use just a little bit of flight to reduce his weight and make the climb out the window and subsequent scale down the outside of the building less likely to end with a splat.

He makes his way to a different floor first, finding an area of roof with no access door and a vantage point where he can see inside the windows as Meilin returns and realizes he's gone. He's not letting himself get tailed back to Peter or the little family letting them use their home as a base of operations. It takes a few hours, and he has to use his invisibility twice, along with carefully relocating a few times, but he mostly manages things the mortal way, - He's pretty proud of himself for how far he's come in that regard. He'd like to think Sam would be, too. - before he finally makes it to a point he can get to another nearby rooftop and a fire escape. From there, he wills himself out of the visible spectrum for a third time and slowly makes his way back towards the little restaurant.

His powers get harder to channel the longer he uses them, but he pushes through and keeps his invisibility up until he gets back to Peter, knowing he's got plenty of Ties to recharge his Core now. He can let himself get hungry again without worrying he won't get to eat afterwards.

(It's really hard to shake that viciously-ingrained mentality, though.)

(We don't need to shake it. We need to be careful and never get that hungry again. We still might wind up back in prison somehow.)

He's glad Meilin didn't take him any further away. By the time he makes it back to their base, he's exhausted and the sun is starting to rise, but he's confident no one's followed him.

He just wants to go home, take a hot shower, order a pizza, and snuggle up with Mozzie, June, and Bugsy to watch a movie.

(Part of him wishes Peter and Kate could be there for the movie, too, but he's trying not to think about that.)

"You have no idea what I'm saying, do ya?" Peter asks Bai, the little daughter of the family hosting their sting. "Keep that up, you'll end up like Neal... You don't want that. Trust me. He's impulsive. He's bouncy, even in the office. He thinks stealing people's wallets should be featured regularly on Comedy Central. He flirts with girls way too old for him. And, he... He's gonna get himself into trouble."

He can't help the worried note that slips into his voice. The little CI had wormed his way into Peter's heart, starting from the first time he'd arrested him.

(He'd spent far too many nights lying awake, wondering if the tiny con-artist was okay.)

(Locked away in a supermax prison.)

(Alone.)

(It wasn't his fault, though. He hadn't expected the courts to try Neal as an adult. He was obviously a kid. The more time Peter spends with him the less he can deny it.)

(Why hadn't anyone else seen it? The whole office does, so why hadn't the judge?)

(At least, with the jury, Peter can reason they were in the same mindset as he was. The kid's ID would be proven fake and he'd be sent to a juvenile detention center.)

Now, Neal's been taken hostage by one of Lao's crew, his tracker smashed, his location unknown. Peter can't help but worry what they'll do if they find out he's a con trying to help the feds.

(A helpless kid, who's got information they want and is working with the enemy.)

(I just wanna go in and get him back, but that would only put him in more danger. Especially if he's managed to convince 'em he's on their side.)

"It's not like I'm worried about him," he lies, despite the fact he seriously doubts the child in front of him speaks a single word of English. "I just... Feel responsible... Anything happens to him, I'll have a lotta paperwork to fill out. Paperwork's a hassle."

(Death certificates are paperwork.)

(Purchasing tiny coffins requires paperwork.)

"Neal's just so..."

(Cocky and brash and impulsive and fidgety and confident and proud and playful and conniving and clever and caring and so, so young.)

"But, then again," he chuckles suddenly, thinking back to when they'd first arrived and the conman had been trying to comfort the distressed girl before him. "That was a neat card trick, huh?"

Suddenly, Bai grins widely and waves at someone behind him.

"Nice to know I'm appreciated."

Because, of course, Neal's standing behind him.

Peter turns to look at him and suddenly finds himself rushing over to the little con. He looks really bad. Maybe even worse than when he was first released.

Danny's trying not to be hurt by Peter's rant. He knows he probably doesn't mean it. They might not be very close yet, but his handler is the type of guy to care about complete strangers. He looks like he hasn't slept a wink. He's probably been worried sick that his CI was kidnapped and they had no way to help him.

(It's not just the paperwork. Peter's just not good with feelings. He's not like mom and dad. He actually noticed you went missing.)

(Noticed, and didn't do anything.)

"What happened to you?" The man demands, pushing himself up and coming over to Danny. All the little ghost's earlier worry melts away at the pure concern in his expression and actions.

"Got kidnapped by Interpol," he quips, trying to keep his tone light instead of tearful at the pure relief rushing through his Core.

Peter snorts. "What else is new?" He blinks. "...Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Apparently they're the ones who sicced the NYPD on us, because we were encroaching on their operation."

"Did they now?" Peter says, thoughtful. "Alright. We need to brainstorm on this. I'll let Hughes know. You, go find Cruz and Jones, and tell 'em to order a pizza," He orders, then turns back to the table to find Bai still sitting there, looking up at him.

He turns back to Danny.

"How'd'ya say 'go find your dad' in Mandarin?"

"You know she speaks perfect English, right?"

Peter turns suspicious eyes back on the little girl.

"You're weird," She giggles, before running off.

"I want my sock back," Peter calls after her.

And, okay, that's a story Danny wants to hear.

"You're a bad influence," Peter continues, turning back to the CI. "Okay, let's go over this from the top, then you need to eat something and take a nap. And, probably a shower. You look like you spent the night in a dumpster. How'd you even get here?"

Danny tells him about Meilin's bribe and his subsequent escape. - Though, he leaves out the ghostly aspects. - "It wouldn't have taken me so long, but every time I thought I was in the clear, I spotted another tail. I wasn't about to lead 'em back here, so I had to loop around again."

"..."

"Peter?"

"...You scaled down the side of a building?"

And, oh. That's Peter's lecture face. The agent pulls off the Jazz Fenton Look of Disapproval™ better than Jazz, herself.

He sits through the man's speech about 'sane ways to exit a building' and tries not to smile as Peter's Core-Tie grows metaphorically warmer and metaphysically stronger.

He ignores the rumbling in his Core, knowing it'll be fed back up to a non-grumbling state within a week or so. Maybe even sooner, now.

(My Core's been really quiet lately. I almost forgot what it was like to not hear it rumbling all the time.)

(It's just like you: It only shuts up when there's food in its mouth.)

(My Core doesn't have a mouth.)

(That's what it has you for. You're the mouth of this operation.)

(Never heard it phrased like that, but sure. Accurate enough.)

Once Peter finishes his very reasonable lesson on proper safety measures to his boneheaded CI, he turns back to the kid, - Not Bai. The other kid. Because, the longer he works with Neal, the more convinced he becomes that he's not as old as even the lowest guesses on the pool currently running in the white collar office, - and fixes him with a look he hopes is both serious and understanding.

"Do you want me to look into Kate? Make sure she's safe?"

Neal looks uncertain for a moment, before he replies, "If she was in danger and Interpol knew where she was, they would have to step in, wouldn't they?"

Peter sighs. "Contrary to popular belief, Interpol is not a police force. They just help with information and communications between police forces around the world. If someone commits a crime in one country, then goes to another, they'll let the people of that country know that that person is a wanted criminal and to be on the lookout. They also sometimes translate information that's transmitted to other countries. Either way, what Meilin said to you was probably a lie in a lot of different ways. For one, Lao is the boss. There's no one above him in his operation. For another, everyone who's ever seen your file knows you dated Kate and that she visited you every week while you were in prison for two years. They know you're close."

At the kid's expression, he pauses.

"They think you're close."

Neal doesn't deny it.

"Most likely, what they're really fishing for is the extra payout they would get if Lao's arrested on Asian soil." He sighs again. "It's possible Interpol knows something about Kate, if she's gotten involved with an international criminal. - Well, another international criminal," he looks at the little con pointedly.

"Alleged," his CI insists. Because, of course he does.

Peter smirks, then lets it drop. "I genuinely don't know what they would do with that information. But," he adds, "if I had to guess, I'd say Kate's probably fine and Meilin's just using the information from your file to try and swing your cooperation."

Neal takes a moment to think it all over. "I... I meant what I told Meilin. Kate left me and I respect her decision. And, she clearly doesn't care about me too much, since she betrayed me in the first place. But... I'm still kinda mad, but I don't want her to get hurt. It'd be a whole lot easier to let everything go if I just knew she was safe."

"Okay," Peter nods, clapping a hand on the boy's shoulder, having fully intended to look into the situation no matter Neal's answer. After a moment, he adds, "I'm proud of you... Just... Please, don't scale any more buildings." The kid just laughs and Peter leaves the room to make a few calls.

Hughes is not gonna be happy about the Interpol issue. Fine by Peter, he's not happy Neal was sent in in the first place. He knows Hughes isn't either, that he just hadn't had a choice, but still... He's glad his young CI got through last night's incident in one piece.

(I'll be even gladder, if I get my sock back by the end of this whole mess.)

When he hears June talking to Meilin inside his apartment, Danny's first reaction is to panic. But, it sounds like Meilin's trying to con June, not hurt her, so he forces himself to think. He backtracks out of human earshot, dials Mozzie, lets him know the situation, then put the phone back in his pocket and walks in. Mozzie always records his phone calls. Peter's gonna get a kick out of this one.

June clearly doesn't wanna leave him alone with Meilin. Even after he reassures her, he can hear her listening in just outside the door, as well as fishing her gun out of her handbag, just in case. Her Tie gets a whole lot stronger at the knowledge of how far she's willing to go to protect him.

After Meilin leaves, June and Mozzie both say some things Danny doesn't feel comfortable repeating, and not just because they're extremely illegal. His Brother's Tie gets stronger, too.

(Danny's Core is having a big day.)

He's glad Peter's looking into this. He doesn't think Kate's in danger anymore, - Meilin isn't a very good liar. She works too hard to keep any and all emotion out of her expression, meaning she's too focused on hiding the expressions she doesn't want him to see to put any more attention into creating new ones to cover what's missing. - but better safe than sorry when your Core feels like it's trying to wiggle it's way out of your chest.

Peter cannot believe they're sending Neal back in. It's been less than twenty-four hours. The kid looks like a zombie. Meilin showed up at his apartment last night and, according to June, neither of them had been able to sleep after that. Lao's gonna take one look at his CI and know something's up.

Somehow, he doesn't, though. And, it seems Meilin hasn't sold him out yet, either.

(Something Peter had been very worried about.)

(Is still very worried she'll do while his CI is sitting at Lao's table.)

(Playing pai gow.)

(Where no one will be able to reach him in time if Lao decides to just shoot him.)

(WHY DID THEY SEND HIM IN!?)

Neal bets his watch, - The new one the FBI had provided him with, just like the one Meilin had smashed, - and throws the game, leaving Lao to put on the newly-acquired accessory as a trophy, even though it isn't as nice as the one he normally wears. As the CI makes his way back out of the building, the agents can already hear Lao incriminating himself through the listening device.

It's good. They stopped the bad guy and helped make the world a little safer.

Peter's still not gonna relax, until Neal is back within arm's reach, though.

(He's not worried about him running. He's starting to wonder if Neal's even strong enough to run, right now.)

In another world, another Neal Caffrey and Maria Fiametta put on a show for the FBI by frisking each other in the most PDA way possible. In another world, Neal steals a clip from Maria during all this, so she can't shoot him later, but he forgets the one in the actual chamber. In another world, the case ends with a bullet hole in the book of hours they'd worked so hard to save.

But, in this world, this Niel Caffrey is a Fenton by birth. He may not like guns, - A result of too many being pointed (and sometimes fired,) at him as a child, - but he knows how they work. He would never make such a rookie mistake.

Unfortunately, the book of hours still has a bullet stuck halfway through it in the end, because it's not Danny that handles the situation. It's Jones.

In another world, another Neal Caffrey spends the evening after these events looking at the bottle Kate left behind and thinking. He notices a map hidden in invisible ink on the label.

In this world, Danny gets drunk with Moz and then spends the rest of the night seeing how many sticky notes he can attach to his Brother's face without waking him up.

In one world, Neal Caffrey is the one to trick Alisha Teagan into confessing. In another, it's Mozzie. (Though, nobody's quite sure how it actually worked.)

Two Caffrey's find themselves at Grand Central Station. One is looking for clues to finding Kate. The other is checking out the oyster bar with his Brother.

Two Caffrey's find themselves faced with a beautiful Interpol agent and a great deal of danger. One falls to temptation, the other holds strong to the side of a building. One has a fight with Peter and finds a dead body. The other has pizza with his handler and tells him everything. The body is found by another agent after Lao gets arrested, without the risk of getting shot at.

In another world, - In another dimension, - a strange figure in a long, purple cloak hums to himself.

No vivisections.

No more ghost attacks.

No GIW.

It isn't the best world, by any means. But, for all the crimes committed here, it's not half bad.

As always, everything is as it should be.

Chapter Text

Peter can't sleep.

Everything went well with their last case. They got their guy. They found their missing agent. - Dead, but at least they could give his family some closure. - Peter's worries about Neal running after Kate have been (almost entirely) sated. But, something's niggling at the back of his brain.

Something's wrong.

With Neal.

It feels like something's always wrong with Neal.

"It's pretty early for you to be thinking this loudly," Elle notes from beside him.

"Sorry, hon," he says, kissing her good morning. "I'm just thinkin' about Neal."

She hums. "You're always thinking about Neal. I thought everything worked out with your last case. He even trusted you enough to let you know about what happened with Meilin."

"It did. He did. It's just... Something's wrong, I can feel it. After he made it back to the restaurant, Neal looked like he'd been wandering the Sahara for three days, not Chinatown for a single night."

"Well, people chasing you does make a difference."

That's true. But, still. "...I keep looking at him, and he looks so... Ill. He looked a little sick for the first few days after he was released, and then he got better. I thought it was just a cold. Or, maybe a general lack of sunlight. But, ever since things went wrong with the gambling sting, he's looking worse again."

"You think he looks sick? He looked fine, to me, last time I saw him."

Peter blinks. That can't be right. Elle is way more observant than he is. When it comes to things that aren't cases, at least. "You really haven't noticed anything off about him? No bags under his eyes? No pale skin?"

"No, but it's possible I was distracted by everything else going on. Tell you what: Why don't you invite him over for dinner tonight? I'll pay closer attention and maybe we can ask him how he's feeling. I'll even make chicken soup and send it home with him. After all, you think he's actually a teenager, right? Maybe he's just not taking care of himself like he should. Maybe nobody ever taught him how to."

A second opinion on his worries and Elle's homemade chicken soup? Yeah, Peter can work with that.

Peter extends the offer once Neal gets in the car later that morning. He'd spent the whole drive the day before cataloging the kid's features while they made small talk. Nearly rear-ended twelve, different cars, thanks to his split attention.

Neal had looked even worse by the time they got to the office.

(Is it stress? A heart condition? It would explain why it got worse after his escape from prison, his escape from Meilin and the NYPD, and escape from collisions with several, angry drivers.)

(But, why didn't anyone at the prison notice?)

That's another thing. Peter seems to be the only one who's noticed. His team hasn't noticed, and they spend every day in close proximity to the little conman. Hughes hasn't noticed, and had even sent Neal into the field in this state. Elle hasn't noticed, and she notices everything.

(Is Peter projecting? Is this some kind of psychological thing? Is Neal actually fine and Peter's just worried, because the kid looks so young? Because, he's been in so much danger lately and he's Peter's responsibility?)

"How've you been feelin', by the way?" He asks suddenly, unable to help himself.

"Fine," Neal smiles, and Peter doesn't believe it for a second. Those bags can't be his imagination. "How about you? How's Elizabeth been?"

He needs to figure this out. For Neal's sake and his own.

"Good," he replies distractedly. Then, "I pulled some strings. I found Kate."

The kid perks up, but still looks exhausted. "Is she okay?"

"She's safe." Neal slumps into his seat again, releasing a breath Peter hadn't noticed he was holding. "She's with an agent whose name is classified. - A lot of it's classified, actually. - It seems to be some kind of relocation program in exchange for information."

"What kind of information?"

"I'm not sure," Peter replies honestly. "It wasn't in the file. I was hoping you'd have an idea. Any clue what Kate might have that the Bureau would want?"

"Not really," the kid shrugs. "What kind of relocation program is it? Why does she even need to be relocated?"

Peter hums noncommittally. "From what little information I've found so far, she's basically in the same position as you, but on a shorter leash. And, judging by what I've seen of the paperwork, she'll probably be released before you, too. I'll keep looking into it, though." They pull up to a red light and he puts a hand on the kid's shoulder. He's too tense, and, if Peter's suspicions about his health are correct, the little con doesn't need that. "They're not gonna hurt her. Inconvenience her some, but she's not in danger."

Peter doesn't like the looks of the program they've got Kate as a part of. Something's off about it. There's far too much confidentiality involved for someone as small-time as her. But, there's no point in worrying his CI until he has more information.

They start moving again and Neal looks out the window thoughtfully.

"Hey," he says finally. The kid looks at him. "I know it's not easy. But, I'm not the type o' guy to just sit back and let somebody get hurt. I'll keep an eye on things and we'll step in the second there's any sign Kate's in danger. Okay?"

"Even if you have to butt into somebody else's investigation to get to her?"

"Hey, Interpol started it."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

The kid thinks a moment. "Yeah. Okay."

Peter chuckles in disbelief. "Just like that? You sure you're not gonna run off and try to find her, yourself? Maybe scale a couple buildings, while you're at it?"

The kid groans and tips his head back into the seat. Like a kid. "I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"

"Not a chance, Dick Grayson."

"Does that make you Batman?"

"I am the night. I bring vengeance to all who - CUT ME OFF!" He honks at the guy now cursing him out as Neal cackles beside him.

(It sounds nice. The kid doesn't laugh enough.)

As they pull up to the Bureau, the little con speaks again. "It sounds like Kate's got a good deal going for her. If she's better off without me..." And, now Peter feels guilty. No kid should consider themselves that much of a burden. "Just make sure nothing happens to her, Peter."

He picks up Neal's hat from the console and plops it on his informant's head. "I will, kid."

"I'm not a kid."

(He says. Like a kid.)

Mozzie doesn't consider himself a conceited person, in general. But, he is proud to say he knows a lot of things about a lot of things.

He knows the moon landing was faked.

(He even has several theories, besides the more common ones, as to why they would fake such a thing, and is happy to share them with anyone who will listen.)

He knows Area 51 is actually a cover-up for the fact that aliens have been amongst them since before the fake moon landing.

(And, that some of them hold positions of power, all over the world.)

He knows that Neal Caffrey is actually the young hero, Daniel Fenton, who stopped his mad-scientist parents from killing off an entire city.

(Though, he doesn't think Danny knows he's realized this. He hasn't figured out how to bring it up to him.)

(He hasn't figured out how the kid managed to fake his death so well or hide his records so well, either.)

And, he knows that his best friend is decidedly not normal.

(He doesn't mean that as an insult. It's just an observation he's made.)

(It's also the reason he hasn't just asked him about how he'd faked his death or hidden his records.)

There are also a lot of things, he will admit, that he doesn't know. But, he does suspect.

He suspects that Danny's parents were abusive, though his friend has never said much on the subject. Just that his home life was 'not so great' before he left.

(He never mentions any real details about anything from before he came to New York, though, which is telling in its own way.)

He suspects that Peter "The Suit" Burke actually knows about several of his and Danny's crimes and is, for some reason, not doing anything about them.

(The man's reasons for this are subject to speculation and how much Mozzie's had to drink on any given day, but he's grateful for it, nonetheless.)

(Cautious, but grateful. Cautiously grateful.)

And lastly, and most importantly, - Well, not lastly, actually. He could go on for hours. But, it is important. - he's suspected for a while now that Danny might not be in the best of health.

(Recently, he and June had spent many an afternoon discussing just how worried they both are about the little con.)

When Mozzie first met Danny, he looked fine. Human. But, it wasn't long before the older conman started to notice things.

First, nearly every time they'd completed a big job in the past, his friend had come out looking much worse for wear than he reasonably should. The more things went off the rails, the worse Danny would look. Sure, it might've been stressful, but it shouldn't have been that stressful.

Second, whenever Danny spends time with the people he cares about, he looks healthier, but the otherness never goes away completely anymore.

This otherness includes, but is not limited to:

• The dark circles Danny keeps under his eyes, even after a full night's sleep.

• Danny's skin, which had been a normal, only slightly-pale tan when they'd first become partners, but is now so pale that, at times, it looks almost translucent.

• The impressive night-vision the kid must have, since he never needs a flashlight. (He always pretends to need one, but Mozzie's seen him slip on multiple occasions. Sometimes, it's like he doesn't realize how dark it is, until someone else mentions it.)

• His eyes, which used to be ice blue, but have been growing steadily greener since they met.

• The previous fact - Which had been questionable before, or possibly the result of odd genetics, - becoming undeniably true once the kid's eyes started outright glowing mid-conversation, the night Mozzie met up with his little friend at June's house after he was released. (Mozzie has considered the possibility that this person isn't even Danny at all, but someone masquerading as Danny, but his friend still acts exactly like himself and seems to have all of his memories. So, in favor of the other possibilities on the table, the older con is trying to hold judgement for now.)

Third, - And, perhaps strangest of all, - nobody else seems to notice any of this but Mozzie.

Well, Kate had mentioned Niel was strange before, but Mozzie's smart enough to put together the dots on that. The simple fact of the matter is that Kate had never been close enough to Danny to be trusted with this information. Or, had only been trusted with a modicum of it, then had that trust rescinded based on her reaction to the small amount she was privy to.

(Likely the reason she'd never been trusted with Danny's real first name.)

And, now, Mozzie's left to wonder: Is Danny showing him this side of himself, because he trusts Mozzie to help him with his illness? Or, is this just what he naturally looks like and he trusts Mozzie with his true appearance?

(He hopes for the latter, but, based on his friend's behavior, fears the former.)

After all, Mozzie's also smart enough to put the other obvious set of dots together. Danny knows all of his 'conspiracy' theories, after all.

The older conman has been trying to find a way to ask, but how does one broach this type of subject? It doesn't exactly come up in casual conversation very often.

Whatever's going on, Mozzie just hopes his little friend is okay.

Dinner with Neal goes about as well as Peter expected it to. The kid still looks exhausted and unwell, but he's as polite and slightly annoying as ever. He eats plenty of soup, compliments Elle's cooking, plays with Satchmo, acts (and eats) like a normal, awkward teenager at times and a teenager-pretending-to-be-an-adult at others, and shares a few anecdotes that seem to be just skirting a bigger story that Peter probably won't like the details of when he learns them.

They pointedly do not bring out the wine for this dinner, because neither of the adults present want to hear Neal whine about not being allowed any. But, Peter can't, in good conscience, serve alcohol to the kid, even if his ID says he's over twenty-one. He just knows they're going to find out one day that he's actually fourteen, or something, and Peter'll be the one left feeling guilty for the corruption of a minor.

(Not that Neal needs his help getting corrupted.)

By the time Peter drops the little con back off at June's, soup container in hand, he's looking a little better. The real problem begins when he gets back home.

"Honey, I'm not saying you're wrong. I just didn't personally think Neal seemed sick," Elle says, then kisses him on the cheek. "I'm still glad we did this, though. You were right that he's too skinny. He looks like he needs more home-cooked meals. You should invite him over more often." She puts the condiments away in the fridge. "And, check his pantry next time you're there. Make sure he's got enough food."

"Neal doesn't cook," He explains, hands on his hips. He just can't understand it! Why doesn't anybody else see what he sees? "From what I can tell, he orders takeout for pretty much every meal that June doesn't provide and eats cereal for the others. He avoids the stove like he thinks it's gonna start spitting flames at him. And, he glares at the toaster, like it's personally wronged him... I think maybe Haversham cooks sometimes, though?"

"Really? That's another check in the teenage behavior box, I guess, if a bit on the extreme side."

It is. There are so many checks on that list. So many problems no one else seems aware of.

What is Peter gonna do?

Peter's acting weird. He seems... Worried, maybe? Danny knew, going in, that their last case was gonna be dangerous. Had expected some kind of trouble, even as he hoped it wouldn't come. But, ever since he'd slipped away from Meilin, Danny's handler looks at him like he expects him to keel over at any moment.

Danny knows he wore himself out, used up too much energy, but he'd had no other choice. Besides, humans don't usually notice that sort of thing. Or, maybe they don't care. He's never been entirely sure.

Sam, Jazz, and Tucker had always noticed. But, if anyone else in Amity had, they never did or said anything about it. Not his parents, not his teachers, not the cops that (sort of) handled things whenever his parents decimated every traffic law in existence, not even Vlad.

Mozzie seemed to notice, but never said anything. Danny didn't think it was because he didn't care. He just... Knew Danny had things he didn't like to talk about, - Mostly from before he came to New York, - and the bald man respected that.

Still. If he could go to anybody about this, it was his Brother. The older conman always had some unique insights into these things. True, a lot of them were strange, even by Danny's standards, but just as many were extremely well-thought-out and useful.

"Hey, Moz," He says, as he walks into his apartment and sets the Tupperware down on the counter. "Elle sent soup home."

Mozzie walks over excitedly, lifting the lid from the container and making a pleased sound at the smell wafting from the still-warm food. "Chicken noodle?"

"Homemade," the shorter con confirms. "I think Peter and Elizabeth think I'm getting a cold? They kept asking me how I've been and how I'm feeling. Do I look sick?"

Mozzie pauses, arm halfway to a bowl in the cabinet.

Danny wants to know if he looks sick to Mozzie.

Is this a test? Or, is it his chance?

He looks at his little friend. The friend who hasn't grown an inch or aged a day in the almost three years they've known each other. Worked together. Planned together.

Danny, for his part, looks genuinely confused. And, it's not his, 'Oh, look, I'm so small and innocent, I couldn't possibly have any idea about that' look. It's the real one Mozzie's seen honestly far more often than the fake one. Real confusion about things normal kids would get confused about. But, also things maybe non-humans would get confused about when they try to blend in with humans but aren't doing a great job of it.

"Mon frère," he begins carefully, and Danny (literally) brightens at the nickname, like he always does, "You always look sick." The kid dims again. "You have, since a few months after I met you. It got worse after Kate left. It got worse again after Copenhagen. It got really bad while you were in prison. And, it got worse again after the thing with Lao. I thought you didn't wanna talk about it. I was trying to respect that until you were ready. Then, you were in prison, and I knew we couldn't talk about it where something might be overheard. But..." He pauses.

The kid looks like a deer in the headlights. He's so pale and scared.

He's scared of what Mozzie knows.

He's scared of what Mozzie's gonna do.

The older conman places his palms on the counter, in full view. Mozzie's not scared of Danny, no matter what species he truly is. But, Danny's obviously scared of Mozzie right now. He needs to be careful how he handles this. Children and animals often react irrationally when they feel cornered. And, Danny is the picture of an emotionally-cornered kid, right now.

Mozzie hates that this kid is looking like that at him.

"Danny. I had considered the possibility that you didn't know that I knew. But... Do you not know?"

Somehow, a Clark Kent situation hadn't even factored into his theories, but he supposes it should've. Could Danny know something's off about himself, but not what? Could that've been why he left home? Had his mad-scientist parents, unlike Jon and Martha, not taken him in out of the kindness of their hearts, but as a sort of research project?

He'd suspected, at one point, that their experiments were actually the cause of the kid's oddities. But, he knew Danny had gone to school and hung out with friends. - Even knew their names. Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and a bully named Dash were the only things he ever mentioned about his old life, and those mentions were scarce and only likely to happen when the kid was drunk. - Mozzie seriously doubted the Fentons would've let the kid out of their sight if they needed to keep something like unethical experimentation under wraps or if there was a chance he would escape. And, once Mozzie had learned of Danny's love for and knowledge of space and space-travel, he'd quickly pushed those theories aside in favor of the current strain. All of it pointed to a life outside of Earth. But...

Could it actually be that Danny remembers loving the stars subconsciously? That it's an instinct, pointing him back towards his home world? Back to a biological family that's worrying and wondering and missing him somewhere out there?

The younger con swallows audibly, snapping the older out of his thoughts. "I dunno what you mean, Moz."

Danny's never been a natural talent at lying. He can handle the small stuff, he can lie by omission or technicality, and he's great at misdirecting, -His favorite type of misdirect is of the pure chaos variety, which Mozzie can appreciate, if only once everything's over and done with and they've both made it out safely, - but Mozzie always has to spend hours practicing with him for any kind of major, blatant lies.

(Except when they can frame it as a prank. The kid's an absolute protege at those.)

(He'll never forget the incident with the insurance agents and the balloons full of pudding.)

The bespectacled man walks over, telegraphing his movements, and places a careful hand on the kid's shoulder. Danny doesn't back away, or shrug him off, or even flinch like he'd so often done when they'd first met.

(Mozzie's first hint at the kind of 'not so great' home life his little friend had come from.)

He just looks up at him with those huge, blue-but-also-actually-green eyes that have every pretty girl his age scrambling for his attention and many a grown woman scrambling to coo and boop his nose.

(Kate's only interested because she actually believes the kid's college-aged.)

(The Suit's suspicions are unfounded, but noble.)

(Still hilarious, though.)

"Danny, my friend, we've known each other for a long time now. I've known there was something other about you since shortly into our partnership." Danny tenses under his hand, but Mozzie pointedly doesn't react. "I assumed that, since I couldn't see it when we first met, and nobody around us seemed to see it even after I could, that you were showing it to me willingly. As a sign of trust. But..." He watches the gears turn in Danny's head and clocks the moment he catches the implications of that. "Are you not aware that I can see it?"

"You... Can see it?" That would be a (horrified) 'no', then.

"It gets more obvious the longer I know you." Might as well bite the bullet. "Look, you don't have to worry. I understand what the government would do if they ever found out. I'm no narc. Not against my friends." Finally, his little partner-in-crime seems to calm down. He still looks ill, but he doesn't look like he's going to bolt any second. "...All I ask is that, when the invasion comes, I'm given a little heads up and maybe a bit of amnesty or even a high-ranking position amongst our otherworldly invaders."

Danny blinks up at him, suddenly fully himself again.

"...Mozzie, I'm not an alien. I'm a ghost."

And, that's how Danny winds up spending the whole night trying to explain ghost biology to an increasingly-drunk Mozzie, who takes a shot every time Danny mentions something about his old home life, like it's some new drinking game.

It's also how Mozzie spends the whole night trying to learn ghost biology while also trying to get as drunk as he can, so he can't find Danny's parents and murder them in cold blood.

(Yet. He has every intention of doing so eventually, but Danny has to okay it first. They're his abusers and he should get some control in the situation.)

"Wait, your Core marks Ties with specific Roles in your Family?"

"Yeah."

"Oh! What's my Role?"

"You're my Brother, Moz."

"Brother..."

(A real one, this time. Not by adoption, but by choice.)

"I could get used to that... How about June?"

"Her Tie's not really strong enough for a Role, yet."

"Makes sense. I assume it's the same for the Suit?"

"Yeah. Wait. How'd you know Peter and June have Ties?"

"Uh, the fact they think you look sick, too?"

"...Crud."

Chapter Text

"So, Kate's in some kind of program like yours, but better?" Mozzie asks the next morning, before Peter arrives to pick Danny up. The taller con is fighting off a serious hangover, but still trying his hardest to follow the situation.

"From the sounds of it, yeah."

His Brother sighs. "And, you're just letting the Suit take point?"

"What am I supposed to do, Moz? I don't exactly trust her, but I also don't want her to get hurt. She's still Family."

"And, you can't just fake your death again so her Tie dies?"

He stops, looking at his literal partner-in-crime thoughtfully. "...Maybe. Someday. But... Not if I don't have to."

"Okay, fair enough. But, what if she comes back after she's released?"

"It should be fine, so long as I keep her at arm's length. Which is why I can't handle it myself. If I do, it might make her Tie stronger, and then she'll see, and I don't want her to know. I can let her have her space, - Because, that's being respectful and being good Family, - but I can't just ignore it if I think she's in danger."

"But, Peter's Family, too, which means you can delegate finding out if she even is in danger to him, and it won't really effect your Tie with her," Moz completes.

"Exactly."

"But, it will make the Suit's Tie stronger, because he's proving he cares about you enough to help and also is helping one of your Ties, which means he's a good Tie."

"I'm caught between a rock and a hard place."

"And, I can't handle it, why?"

"First off, you're seriously hungover."

"Am not."

Instead of replying, Danny silently passes him a glass of tomato juice, which Mozzie downs with a grimace, but no argument.

"Peter doesn't know Kate all that well. Him helping her is like a cousin from one side of the family talking to a cousin from the other side. They have no real connection, except through me. It'll still strengthen both of their Ties, - Peter's more than Kate's, because he'll clearly be doing this for me, - but neither of them as strongly as dropping yours into the mix."

"Because, I'm your strongest Tie," the man preens.

"Because, you're my Brother," Danny confirms.

Mozzie sighs dramatically. "Then, I guess I have no choice but to leave it to the Suit, little Brother. You certainly have a knack for creating complicated relationships, you know that?"

Danny laughs, "You have no idea. Did I ever tell you about the time I dated a dragon?"

"Dragons exist!? ...Dragons are sentient!? ......You dated one!? Ow." He puts a hand to his aching head.

Danny uses the moment of distraction to duck out of the room, barely containing his mirth. "Yep. But, she was just using me to try and hurt Sam, 'cause she thought Sam liked me."

Mozzie's face takes on a haunted look. "Dragons exist and they're petty. Why did she wanna -" The door shuts, as the younger con locks himself in the bathroom to get dressed. "Danny? Danny!? You can't just drop something like that and then not tell me any more!"

"Sorry~! Can't hear you~!"

"...You think you could take me to a meet a real dragon someday?"

Danny is not nervous. He's just... Undecided.

On the one hand, having so many Ties growing at such a healthy pace is making him feel a lot better, in general. He's still weakened, but it's not to an afterlife-threatening level anymore.

(Mozzie had not been happy with that part of his explanation, and seemed somehow both proud of being the only real reason Danny had survived his stint in prison, as well as extremely guilty that he hadn't visited more often.)

(At least, after Danny had explained that, no, he does not feed on other people's emotions like some kinda vampire. It's like the chemical reaction when you see something you like and your brain releases dopamine, only Danny's Core sees his Family acting like Family should and it creates ectoplasm instead.)

But, on the other hand, Peter's FBI. And, if his Tie keeps getting stronger, it won't be long before he starts to notice all the... Less-than-human things Mozzie's apparently been aware of for years. June will, too.

(Probably before Peter does. If she hasn't already.)

Either way, he's still glad he can leave all this stuff about Kate to Peter. She's already betrayed him once. He can't ever let her Tie get any stronger than it already is. He doesn't know what she'd do with the information or the power over him.

But, he also doesn't know what Peter would do with any of it.

(He's heard horror stories from his ghostly allies about humans who discovered a ghost's Obsession and used it to make them into slaves. Apparently, those and the stories about Desiree and demons all got mixed together over the course of the last few centuries and created the human myths about genies.)

Danny doesn't think his handler would manipulate his Core to make him do what he says or let him get dragged off to some super secret government facility to be tortured and experimented on for the rest of his undead days, but...

Sometimes, - When it's dark and quiet and he's all alone with his thoughts, - Mozzie's conspiracies don one of Danny's De Voir suits and tango around the inside of his head with memories of Amity Park in a blood-red dress...

Peter takes Elle's advice and invites Neal over for dinner again a few days later. The kid looks - And, Peter doesn't exactly know how to explain this, - like he's had one weight lifted from his shoulders, only for a different weight to be dropped on them. Has his condition gotten worse? Is his immune system compromised?

(Should I run through McDonald's and get him some orange juice before work every morning? Orange juice is good for your immune system. Coffee for me, orange juice and a happy meal for the kid. That's normal, right? That's not weird?)

Has he not been sleeping because he's been worried about Kate, or is he more worried about himself?

Peter's been looking into conditions that can cause the few symptoms he's seen in his little CI, but he doesn't know enough of the details to narrow it down much.

An agent, he is. A doctor, he is not.

He's hoping inviting Neal over and having him around more often will make it easier to pinpoint something, or maybe get the kid comfortable enough with him and Elle that they can just ask him, but the kid's seemed... Distant for the last couple days.

He can't understand it. He thought the little con letting him handle the Kate situation was a sign that their relationship was getting better. That Neal was trusting him more. But, it seems to have made things worse.

(Or, maybe he's not being distant. Maybe, he just feels sick. Kids act weird when they're sick, right?)

Regardless, his CI comes to dinner, eats, and then sits down on the couch, petting Satchmo and clearly struggling to stay awake.

(Peter's pretty sure he would have excused himself the second he could, if he weren't so tired. He looks like he didn't sleep a wink last night. Or, the night before that.)

Elle pulls out some old photo albums and starts showing the kid pictures of her and Peter when they were dating, - Even she admits he looks completely beat, this time, - and a few minutes later, the little con is out cold on their couch, snuggling their dog.

Peter calls June and lets her know Neal's staying the night. He suspects the woman worries about him. He also suspects she doesn't care much for Peter, but it's not his fault the Bureau set the kid up in such a dingy motel! He wasn't happy about it, either, but he'd had no choice. He'd already resigned himself to checking up on him every night before going to bed. He was genuinely relived when Neal found someplace else to stay, - Really! - he was just wary of the way he'd gone about it.

(Worried that he'd blow his chance and Peter would have to lie awake at night for another two years, worrying about what might be happening to the tiny teenager, - He can't not be a teenager, - alone in an adult prison.)

Turns out, his suspicions that his CI hasn't been sleeping well are accurate. He and Elle both go down to check on him multiple times and witness him tossing and turning.

Satchmo has also been surprisingly protective of the little con, nudging his hand anytime he stopped petting him during dinner and laying cuddled up to him the entire night. Peter sees a online article about dogs sensing illnesses in humans and has to close his laptop.

He's even more concerned for the kid now, and so is Elle. But, they still don't have any more information on what, exactly, is wrong with him. Neal still seems wary of them, but, like Elle said, maybe knowing they're here for him will give him some peace about whatever he's not telling anyone.

Danny is so exhausted.

First, he'd stayed up all night scaling down buildings and hiding from Interpol and Chinatown mobsters.

Then, he'd stayed up half of the next night telling Mozzie about ghost stuff.

Then, he'd been unable to sleep the next night, because sleep-deprivation always makes him paranoid, and he's been so worried about Peter and Kate and ghost stuff and his Core and his Ties and who to trust and he kept seeing flashes of ecto-blasters firing every time he closes his eyes and he'd just been too scared to sleep.

Then, the next night, he kept getting routinely awakened by his Brother - Who was now fully recovered from his hangover, - whenever he came up with a new question and decided it just couldn't wait 'til morning and he had to call right then.

Needless to say: Danny isn't sure he's really all there at dinner with Peter and Elle, but he's trying. Honest.

Peter is so glad the kid stayed over.

When they get to work, OPR is there. They're trying to blame Neal for the theft of a pink diamond that was swiped and replaced with a replica the night before. Peter can confidently say, despite the very suspicious glitch in Neal's anklet, that he'd spent the entire night at his house.

"At your house?" Hughes asks, incredulous.

"Reese, you've seen this kid. We all know he's not an actual adult. There's a betting pool running around the office on how old he really is."

"I know," his superior replies calmly. "I put down fifty bucks he's a short seventeen-year-old. It's why I try to avoid sending him into the field, if I can help it. That doesn't explain why he was at your house."

"Lying down with dogs, - or should I say puppies, - Agent Burke?" Fowler interjects.

Man, Peter can't stand this guy.

"Look," he begins. "He's a kid. He's trying to turn his life around. He needs encouragement for that. He needs good influences around him. And, Elle and I - Whether anybody else in this building cares, - need the peace of mind of knowing he's actually eating enough. He's too skinny."

"He's too skinny? What are you, his grandma?"

"Fowler," Hughes warns. "Caffrey is too thin and too small." He shrugs and leans back in his chair, voice dry as the Sahara. "Either that, or he's way smarter than any of us realizes and is actually tall for his age."

(That hadn't even occurred to Peter. That's horrifying.)

(What if...)

(What if Neal's actually some kind of brilliant seven-year-old that should be in Mensa!?)

(No. No. That would mean he was only, - What? - five when they caught him the first time? He's gotta be older than that.)

(But, what if he was ten or eleven? That would make him a teenager now, and everyone agrees he's definitely a teenager. Last he checked, only two of the bets in the office pool so far fell higher than nineteen and only one was lower than thirteen. And, -)

(Oh, Hughes is still talking.)

"- needs good influences in his life, so I don't see anything wrong with him spending time with you outside of work. It's just odd that he happened to spend the night last night."

"Look," Peter begins. "Elle and I both checked on him multiple times throughout the night, because..." He glances at Fowler, who's wearing a smug expression, then back at Hughes, who's waiting patiently for Peter to continue, and sighs. "I'm worried about him," he admits. "He's young and I don't think he always takes care of himself like he should. Neither of us could sleep because he looked so bad yesterday. He's better this morning. I think something's got him scared to sleep at night."

"What? Like and old enemy?"

"I don't know." Because, Peter doesn't know. He just strongly suspects who - Or, rather, what, - Neal's 'enemy' could be.

But, he's not gonna admit to those suspicions. Not until he has more proof and definitely not in front of Fowler. The man sets his teeth on edge. And, not in the way most OPR agents do.

"I'm trying to figure it out. But, I can guarantee Neal was at my house all last night. I don't think there was a single hour that passed where one of us didn't check on him. Even my dog stuck close to him all night, like he's worried about the kid, too."

"Your dog stuck close to him?" Fowler's voice is somewhere between incredulous and disgusted. Peter wants to punch him.

It takes some time, but Peter finally convinces Hughes that Neal couldn't possibly have gone anywhere near the diamond. Unfortunately, he can't have that conversation with everyone in the office. Not even when they're all looking at the little con with so much distance and suspicion.

(How can so many of his coworkers be this cold to an obviously-sick kid? And, even if he wasn't sick, Neal's been on his best behavior since his release.)

(At least, whenever he's in view of the other agents.)

(And, not including his wallet shenanigans.)

(But, he's trying to change. Why can't they let the kid be?)

Still, with both Peter and Elle's word as an alibi, they can't act on any of those suspicions. Not without serious proof. And, proof of that can't exist, because it didn't happen.

(So, why does Peter feel like Fowler's going to find some anyways?)

He supposes the only thing to do is find the guy who actually did it. And, fast.

Danny cannot believe he just got to meet Adrian Tulane. And, he's an absolute jerk! He is so disappointed.

He's even more disappointed in the man's -

(Apparently?)

- solid alibi.

Meaning Niel Caffrey is still a suspect.

Which totally isn't fair! Danny has an alibi, too, and his comes from an FBI agent and his wife! All Tulane has is plane tickets. There are so many ways to fake those. Danny knows, because he's seen Mozzie do it before.

But, at least he's feeling more confident in Peter's Tie, since he'd sat at his desk pretending to do paperwork - Or, rather, pretending to procrastinate instead of doing his paperwork, like he usually does, - while actually listening in on the conversation in Hughes's office. He couldn't make out everything over all the noise around him, - Super-hearing does not automatically make you good at picking out a specific voice from a crowded room of chattering people, no matter what the comics imply, - but he'd heard enough.

He's still not sure he wants Peter to know what he is, exactly. But, he thinks, maybe, it wouldn't be so bad if his handler ever found out.

Someday.

A long time from now.

(Maybe wait until after he's retired, so he's not legally obligated to tell a superior that his CI is undead.)

"They still suspect you, even with Suit and Mrs. Suit as your alibi?" Mozzie asks, incredulous, when Danny calls him after work.

"Yep," Danny replies, laid back across the Burkes' guest bed, tossing and catching the rubber band ball he'd taken home with him.

(Because his nerves were so shot he didn't realize he was still playing with it until Peter pointed it out in the car.)

"And, this means you should stay at their house, why?"

"Peter thinks someone's trying to set me up. If he still has eyes on me, nobody can say I did anything I didn't. Especially with what happened with my tracker last night."

"But, they've already proven they don't trust the Suit, either," his Brother reasons.

Danny shrugs, despite the fact Mozzie can't see him. "Just because they suspect me, doesn't mean they can do anything about it. It's just for a few days."

"If you say so," Mozzie still sounds displeased. "But, call me the second anyone tries anything. If all else fails..."

"I know."

(If all else fails, we cut my anklet and run. I might even be able to make us invisible for a few seconds.)

"Thanks, Moz."

"What are Brothers for? But, still, they're taking Tulane's plane tickets over their own guy's word? I hate to agree with the Suit, but plane tickets are easy to fake. Something's fishy. Do you think Tulane did it?"

Danny makes a noncommittal noise. "He sure had those tickets ready fast. Just... Look into it, okay? I trust Peter, but I get the feeling he's under just as much suspicion as I am right now. I don't think he has as much freedom-of-movement as usual."

"No honor amongst suits."

Danny huffs a laugh. "Thanks, Bro."

"It's what I'm here for. Be careful, mon frère."

Dinner is a quiet affair, despite Elizabeth's efforts to keep both of their minds off things. Peter hates the looks he's getting around the office. He knows keeping Neal at his house is only going to make them worse. But, he also knows the kid didn't do anything.

(No matter how uneasy and standoffish he's been.)

(He's glad Neal finally seems to be relaxing around him again.)

At least, he's got Diana, Jones, and Cruz on his side. They might not completely trust Neal, but they trust Peter. He's pretty sure a few of the other agents are beginning to suspect he got rid of the tracking data, to protect Neal. He wonders if Hughes is one of those people.

And, honestly, Peter's not sure if he would or not. He just keeps thinking of how bad Neal had looked when he was arrested.

(Peter truly hadn't been expecting James Bonds to be so tiny.)

How bad he'd looked when his trial took place.

(It had been all Peter could do not to break something when they tried him as an adult. He clearly was not an adult. He clearly hadn't done anything to warrant that.)

(Even the jury seemed to regret their verdict when they realized how things were being handled. Peter just doesn't understand why it was handled like it was.)

How bad he'd looked after he escaped. How bad he'd looked after Meilin had gotten her hands on him.

(Had she hurt him, all alone in that hotel room?)

(A hotel room where a strange, mob-affiliated woman - Even if it was a cover, - should never have been allowed to escort a lone and likely-terrified teenager against his will.)

So, yeah. Everyone knows Peter's become protective of the little con, because he has. It's obvious and he's not trying to hide it. He wants Neal to know he wants what's best for him. But, come on! He's a kid! A kid who clearly doesn't have anybody to rely on but Haversham and Peter and Elizabeth and June. He needs people to look out for him.

Maybe if he'd had someone a few years ago, he wouldn't've become a criminal.

(Maybe, if Peter had found him sooner, he never would've needed to.)

(Haversham said guys like him and Neal do what they do for the freedom. But, is it really that straightforward for Neal?)

After dinner, Danny retreats to his temporary bedroom to change. He'd only had time to grab some sweat pants and an old, over-sized, NASA hoodie - He'd found it at the thrift store where he'd first met June and couldn't resist, - before work that morning. They're not his nicest clothes, but it's better than Peter and Elizabeth seeing his rocket ship pajamas.

He's supposed to watch a movie with them in a few minutes. He knows it's so nobody can accuse him of leaving the house, - Peter's way of trying to protect the both of them, - but it still makes him feel crowded. He'd asked for a few minutes to change his clothes, just for a little bit of space.

(Ha ha. Space. NASA hoodie.)

(Go home, brain, you're drunk.)

Still, it's a good movie and he has a nice night. Satchmo follows him up to the guest room and hops up into the bed with him afterwards. He's somehow simultaneously annoyed, exasperated, and touched when the couple keeps coming by to check on him, but eventually does fall asleep.

(They're doing it because they care. They don't know how sensitive his hearing is.)

Just as they're finishing breakfast the next morning, the doorbell rings. Peter goes to answer it.

"Suit," Danny hears, and turns to look. "Mrs. Suit." Mozzie nods at Elizabeth, as she and Danny walk over. "Togepi."

"Ha ha," Danny drones, but he's grinning.

"Haversham," Peter replies warily. "Why don't you come in?"

"I can only stay a minute," the taller con notes, heading for the kitchen. Then, "Ooh! Are those blueberry waffles?"

"Would you like some?" Elizabeth offers, a little awkward, but still polite. Peter sends her a scandalized look and she shrugs in return.

"What's a togepi?" The agent asks, leaning towards Danny.

Danny feigns as much nonchalance as he can manage. "It's a Pokémon."

Peter looks at him now.

"Togepi are short," He admits, relived when this seems to be enough of an explanation for the man and he doesn't press any further. For now, at least.

Meanwhile, Mozzie wastes no time making himself at home at the Burkes' kitchen table, but does explain his appearance around bites of breakfast. "A certain University of Phoenix lawyer has gotten permission to review every document the government has on Neal Caffrey."

"You don't say," Peter drawls, interest shining in his eyes. "You wouldn't happen to be this lawyer, would you?"

"Hiring a lawyer makes you look guilty," Danny insists, now scandalized himself that his Brother would pull this when he's still legally in the clear for the moment.

"Go cardinals," Is all the reply either of them gets. Mozzie wipes his mouth and continues, "Upon hearing this, one OPR Agent Garrett Fowler had these -" from within his pocket, he produces a Zip-Lock bag full of paper, "- shredded and tossed them in a dumpster."

Danny looks at each of them in turn. "Anybody wanna work a puzzle?" He asks, smirking.

Peter finally smirks back. "Nice, wholesome, Family activity."

(He said 'family', not 'Family'.)

(Hey, a ghost can dream. I'm allowed to project if I want to.)

"I made this call from here," Peter breathes, horrified, as he reads over the first of the papers they've managed to put back together.

"Don't they need to get a warrant for that?" Neal asks, from where he's laid back in the floor with his head on Satchmo, sorting the remaining paper strips into piles based on which page he thinks they belong to.

"...They should... Doesn't mean they actually did." Twenty seconds later, the house phone is in pieces. "They bugged my phone. They've been in my house."

"Moz -"

"On it."

"Where're you going?" Peter demands, as Haversham makes for the door.

"I'm going to get my tools to fix the... Remote you just broke," He says, slowly and pointedly. "I'll be back in twenty." He opens the door, freezes, and closes it back. "You've got a mockingbird in your tree, Suit."

Peter blinks, then leans closer to Neal again. He does that a lot when Haversham's around. "What does that mean?"

"There's somebody outside," the CI replies seriously, voice hushed and propping himself up on his elbows, paper strips forgotten around him. "They're watching the house."

"These tools you're going to get... They'll help?" Elle asks uncertainly.

"With the problem we know of, as well as the ones we do not yet know of," Haversham confirms.

And, yeah, Peter does not like the implications of there being more bugs in his house.

Haversham peeks through the blinds in the dining room and Peter hears him whisper, "Amateurs." Then, to the room at large, he continues, "I'll go out this way. It's a longer walk, but I need the exercise. It'll take me at least forty minutes now, though." He turns back to them, signaling something to Neal, who nods. Then, the odd, little man is gone.

Peter spends the next fifty-two minutes alternating between pacing the floor, peeking through the blinds as discreetly as he can, and helping with the papers, while Neal and Elizabeth make idle small talk that remains pointedly within the realm of the boring and uninformative. Just in case.

In his own home.

They're having to be careful what they say in Peter's own home.

They've just finished the third page and started on the last when Haversham gets back with a suitcase full of his... Tools. Which, for some reason, includes a night-vision spotting scope, as well as several things Peter's not ashamed to admit he doesn't recognize.

While the probably-a-conman-but-Peter's-trying-not-to-think-about-that-right-now gets to work cleaning the house of listening devices, Peter asks Jones to come over, then takes Neal back to the jewelry store. They have a heist to figure out. And, fast.

Two years ago...

Mozzie walks into Danny's old apartment, riddled with guilt and worry in equal parts. He can't keep the place while it's empty. It'll just get robbed. The best he can do for his little friend is visit when he can and put his stuff somewhere it'll be safe until he gets out.

As he's packing things, he notices one of Danny's little figurines sitting on the nightstand. It's a Togepi. The kid had been really proud of that one and decided to keep it.

From now until his little buddy is back safe and sound, it'll sit on Mozzie's nightstand. To remind him to be more careful with the kid.

Chapter Text

Peter and Neal spend the afternoon figuring out how the robbery took place. After they get home, they have dinner with Elizabeth, Jones, and Haversham. Then, Peter and Elizabeth sleep on the couch, Neal snuggled up with Satchmo in a sleeping bag in front of the TV. Neal's odd friend was only able to clear the ground floor in the few hours before sundown. He'll be back tomorrow to finish the upstairs.

The next day, they've got Tulane on video coming out of an old prohibition tunnel that connects to the back wall of the vault the diamond was stolen from. The man's brought in and Peter does everything he can to get the name of the person behind the whole operation. Unfortunately, Tulane won't give them anything, only glares at Fowler when he walks into the room and strongly implies the man set him up.

It's disappointing, but they'll keep working on it. For now, though...

Normally, when they nab somebody as high-profile as Tulane, Peter gathers his team in his office and they share a bottle of champagne in paper cups. Thankfully, his team doesn't wanna hear Neal whine any more than Peter does about not being allowed any, and he doesn't wanna make the kid feel left out when this is his victory, too. So, instead, he invites them all over for dinner.

He's getting used to having the kid around the house, anyways.

It's not exactly a night club, but Clinton's always liked the few times they've all been invited over to Peter and Elizabeth's place. They're good people, Elizabeth's an amazing cook, and the atmosphere is always warm and homey.

Neal must like it, too, since he's apparently been staying with the Burkes for a few days now. Clinton's not sure how to feel about that. If it were any other criminal, he'd say his superior was emotionally-compromised. But, Neal's a kid. People like Peter and Elizabeth are exactly what he needs to help him get straightened out. Clinton's never been happy with the way the little forger's case was handled.

He's on the couch, having a conversation with Lauren and the kid in question, when, suddenly, the house phone rings. Elizabeth pauses in her conversation with Diana to answer it.

"Neal, honey, it's for you."

"Me?" The kid asks, looking just as surprised as the rest of them, - Not that that's any kind of guarantee with the little con-artist, - looking up from where he's sitting in the floor, petting Satchmo with one hand and eating a cookie with the other.

How had anyone ever tried this kid as an adult? If he'd committed murder or something, it would at least make a little sense, but theft and forgery? Something really wasn't right about it all.

The kid sits his cookie down and takes the phone, walking a few steps away to hear better over the small crowd. "Hello?"

Clinton pulls Satchmo back before he can eat the cookie. It's chocolate, so that's a definite, doggy no-no.

"Kate?"

Everyone stops and turns to look at him.

"...Are you okay?" There's something cautious in the little guy's voice. Like he's not sure who he's talking to.

(Like he's not sure he actually wants to know how she's doing.)

(Like he's talking to a stranger and doesn't feel safe.)

"Hello?"

"Niel?" Kate's voice rings out through the tiny speaker. "It's me."

"Kate?"

"Niel, I don't have a lot of time."

"Are you okay?" Danny asks carefully. He can be concerned, but not too much. He does not need Kate's Tie to get any stronger. He needs to leave things to Peter and leave Kate alone.

"I'm fine, but I need you to tell me where you hid everything."

He can feel his heart breaking.

"The money. The bonds. The art. All of it."

(No, 'How are you doing, Niel?' No, 'I'm okay, are you okay?' No, 'Glad to hear you're still alive and didn't get shanked in prison.')

"Niel? Are you still there?"

(Peter said she's got some deal going that hinges on information.)

"Niel."

(Probably one that requires her to trick me into turning over all the stuff we stole together. Bonus points, if she also gets everything I took on my own or with Mozzie and gets me arrested again.)

"Niel, listen. He's close. He wants something... Something you took. Something you hid."

(Cutting another deal for herself and leaving me to take the fall. Just like last time.)

"Look, this is the only way you can help me. I wanna come home."

(Liar.)

His ears are ringing.

"You can't trust anyone."

(I can trust plenty of people. Just not you.)

(She's implying she's in danger.)

(Peter's handling it. I don't care. I refuse to care.)

His vision holds the faintest hint of static. He can feel an almost-physical pull on Kate's Tie, but it won't break. He knows. It didn't the last time she betrayed him and it won't this time. It'll just hurt.

"Niel? Niel, please. If he gets what he wants, he'll let me come back to you."

(What makes you think I want you back?)

(If I could cut your Tie, I would.)

"...Jump in a lake."

They all watch, as the call wears on. None of them can quite make out what Kate's saying, but they can hear the woman - The woman who's probably playing with the emotions of the child before them, manipulating him, - trying to get Neal to answer her.

Neal doesn't say a thing. The little con's eyes have a funny, distant look in them. It's not quite the one Clinton's seen on many a brother-in-arms, but it's a cousin of that look. Pained and trapped. Still mostly-present, but working on not being there. Physically and emotionally immobilized, but still mentally struggling to find a way out.

He half expects the kid to bolt at any second, running from a problem he can't physically protect himself from, because he just doesn't know what else to do. Because, that's how kids think when they're scared.

"...Jump in a lake." Neal finally says, and the stifling spell that's fallen over the room is broken.

The little con's voice is strained and hollow, but Clinton hopes he knows they're all proud of him. From what he's heard from Peter, Kate's bad news. This is just proof of that. If he didn't think it would startle the kid, Clinton would applaud him as he hangs up the phone. As it is, though, they all remain eerily still and silent, no longer because of the strange atmosphere that had filled the area, but because they don't know exactly what kind of shape their CI's in right now.

After a few moments, Peter walks over, carefully taking the receiver from the kid's loose grasp. "Neal? ...Hey."

Clinton is so glad they finally got those mandatory training units passed on how to handle civilians in high-stress situations. Otherwise, as smart as his boss is, he knows Peter would try to touch the kid, put a hand on his shoulder. Something that, under normal circumstances, would be a token of comfort, but that Neal probably wouldn't see as such right now.

He knows Peter would never attack a child. He hopes Neal knows that, too. But, when someone you used to be close to proves they can't be trusted... Yeah. The kid's non-violent streak could easily change when he's this hurt.

Neal's pale. Paler than usual. Normally, he looks like a vampire. Right now, he looks like a ghost.

"Neal, honey? Are you alright?" Elizabeth asks, voice laced with concern.

"I'm okay," the little conman mutters. He blinks down at his thin fingers, - Which have been tangled in Satchmo's fur ever since the dog had pulled out of Clinton's grasp sometime during the phone call and trotted over to the kid, nuzzling his free hand for attention, - then slowly starts petting again.

Peter leads them all quietly to the kitchen, while Elizabeth stays with him, speaking in the gentle, motherly tones that come so naturally to her. He's never understood how the Burkes never had kids, when they've always seemed like such... Parents. But, it looks like they might just have one, now.

Clinton peeks around the corner and sees Neal sink slowly down next to Satchmo and bury his face in the animal's side. In return, the dog starts licking the his face in earnest, as Elizabeth carefully sits down next to them.

(I'm so glad Satchmo's here. It's sad to feel this way, but the dog's genuine reaction is probably the only thing reassuring me that this isn't a con of some kind.)

He gives them some privacy, and the senior agent's wife joins them around twenty minutes later, just as they're all about to head home for the night. The only reason they haven't already being that Neal is currently blocking the front door and they don't want to interrupt his and Elizabeth's conversation.

(They don't want to leave until they know Neal's gonna be okay.)

(Until they know exactly what they're dealing with with this Kate girl.)

"How is he?" Lauren asks.

Elizabeth sighs. "He said to tell everyone he was sorry for ditching the party early, but he doesn't feel well. I told him to take a shower and go on to bed and everyone would understand." Somewhere upstairs, they hear the water turn on.

"What did Kate say to him," Diana all but demands. Everyone knows, despite her aloof nature, she truly cares about their 'office gremlin', as she's taken to calling him.

(Mostly playfully, to get a rise out of him and hear him claim he's "not that short". But, still. Diana doesn't do playful unless she really likes you.)

"She tried to get him to tell her where he hid everything." She takes another, steadying breath, crossing her arms over her chest. Her husband puts his arm around her and everyone uses the moment to take in the implications of that. "He was so heartbroken. Said she didn't even ask how he was. Just started right in on conning him. She implied - But, from what I understand, never actually said, - that someone's holding her hostage, said they want something Neal stole, and he needs to give her everything, so she can figure out what it is they want and they'll let her 'come home again'. Tried to say he can't trust anyone but her."

"Only, Diana and I have already started looking into her," Peter informs them all, "and I told Neal what we found. She's part of something called Operation Mentor. A lotta red tape, but, from what I've seen, it's something like Neal's deal, but for information instead of assistance."

"And, an adult, instead of a kid," Lauren mutters bitterly.

"That, too," Peter agrees.

"Then, she really was trying to con him," Elle says, voice the epitome of disappointed disapproval.

"Neal's known she was safe and working with the FBI for days now," Peter confirms, running a hand across his face. "She's trying to sell him out again."

"Good for him, then," Lauren notes. "Like, I'm not supporting his crimes, but telling someone like that to buzz off takes real guts. Especially when you thought they were your friend."

"It does," their boss agrees.

"So, are we going after Kate?" Clinton asks.

"Of course, we are," Lauren smacks him on the shoulder with a paper plate. "We can't just let someone hurt our baby informant like that. Besides, the way their 'relationship' is, she sounds like a pedophile, to me."

Well. There it is. What everyone's been thinking, out in the open.

Elizabeth sucks in a breath and clings to Peter, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. Apparently, that part of the situation hadn't yet occurred to her.

Her husband hugs her tightly. "I don't know all the details, but I don't have any proof that Kate's ever had any... Adult relations with Neal. - Other than calling herself his girlfriend. Which is suspicious enough. - I also don't have any proof she hasn't, though. She's definitely manipulating him emotionally and that would probably make it easier." He sighs again. "I'm glad he didn't let her get away with it this time."

"Poor Neal," Elizabeth says. The shower turns off. She kisses Peter and heads for the stairs. "I'm gonna go check on him. Thank you all for coming."

"I'll call June and let her know he's staying over again. Probably should warn her to be on the lookout for Kate, too."

"Thank you for the party, Elizabeth," Diana says, then turns to their boss. "You think she'll try to get to him when no one's around?"

"Meilin did," the man shrugs. "And, Kate's got her claws deeper into Neal than Meilin could've ever hoped to."

"Deep enough Meilin tried to use Kate's claws to get to him," Diana agrees.

"So, what's the plan, boss?" Clinton asks.

Peter takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. Then, he claps his hands together decisively. "The plan is: Get some rest. First thing, we start looking into Operation Mentor. Trading deals for information is one thing. Whatever it is Kate's doing to Neal is another. It's possible the agents she's working with don't realize he's a minor. - Somehow, it seems most people don't. - Or, maybe they do know, but don't realize exactly what Kate's doing to twist him around. It's still not technically illegal, so long as they're not... You know... But, I have a really bad feeling about all this. I think it's bigger than it looks."

Clinton can't help but agree.

Danny can't believe how stupid he is!

How had he ever let Kate wiggle her way into his Core? He should've known she didn't actually care about him. That a grown woman never actually had a crush on someone who looked so young. He'd just been so hungry...

(Don't blame yourself for eating when you're hungry.)

(Easier said than done. Especially when what I ate gives me food poisoning.)

He gets in the shower, tries not to run Peter and Elizabeth's water bill up too much. He just wants to see if the steam can clear his head. If the extra sensory input - The sound of water rushing through the pipes, the feeling of it hitting him in the face, just cool enough not to burn, - can drown out his emotions and the sounds of the people downstairs.

(Probably talking about me.)

(Probably worried about us.)

(Probably complaining about how much trouble I am.)

(You couldn't help it.)

He knows that. Logically. One of his weaker Ties says she's in danger. One of his stronger Ties says she's not. He can either show distrust in his stronger Tie by helping the weaker one, - Who's already turned on him before, - or he can maybe-hurt/maybe-just-not-get-scammed-by the weaker Tie by believing the stronger one and leaving it to him. One of them's probably gonna get hurt, either way. He's gonna get hurt either way.

He'd picked Peter.

He'd also ruined the party.

(Can't even let them celebrate in peace.)

(They care about us.)

(I should go home and get out of their hair.)

(Mozzie and Jazz both say not to make big decisions while your emotions are running high and clouding your thought-process.)

(My emotions are always running high and clouding my thought process.)

(Not anymore. Not now that we're not hungry. Not always hungry.)

(I should leave.)

(They didn't ask you to. Don't make assumptions for other people.)

(I assumed it was okay to take a shower at their house.)

(No, you didn't. You asked Elizabeth first.)

(She wasn't going to say no, it would've been rude. I put her in a bad position.)

(She's a fully-grown woman. She can get herself out of her own bad positions. Which that wasn't.)

He turns off the water and dries off. He can either put his work clothes back on and head home or put on his sleep clothes and stay.

(Technically, we could put on our suit and go to bed, but it might mess it up sleeping in it.)

(Technically, we could also put on our not-pajamas and walk home, but the fancy, rich-people shoes are probably gonna get us mugged.)

"Niel?" Elizabeth calls through the door, and he realizes he's been deliberating for probably too long. "Honey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," he lies.

(She cares. Peter cares.)

(Don't. We're not even hungry. I'm already worried what Peter's gonna do when he finally realizes I'm not normal.)

(Elizabeth's not Peter. And, she might act as a buffer when that happens.)

Danny puts his work clothes back on and leaves the bathroom.

Elle's standing there, waiting on him.

"Honey, why'd you put your suit back on? It can't be comfortable to sleep in."

(See? She wants us to stay.)

(She expects us to stay, whether she wants it or not.)

"Hey," she says softly, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Come sit down with me, okay?" They settle on the end of the guestroom bed.

She tells him he's welcome here. She tells him they want him. Peter shows up, says the others went home but are worried about him and mad at Kate.

It's awkward, and warm, and terrifying, and soft, and everything Danny's parents used to be, whenever they remembered they had kids that needed them. It's the exact thing he'd been starved of enough in his human life that it became the entire focus of his afterlife.

By sunrise, he has another Tie.

The next morning, Jones, Diana and Cruz get to work investigating Operation Mentor, while Peter tries to keep Neal distracted. Thankfully, it's only a couple days of mortgage fraud cases before their next big case hits.

Agent Landry, from Dallas, is investigating a boiler-room case and heard Neal Caffrey was the best one for the job. He seems cautious about sending a CI in at first. Then, he actually sees Neal and his expression switches to disbelief for a moment, until Peter explains that the kid's mostly just the team's acting coach.

(Except for the end of their first case, and the party from their second case, and the thing with Lao Shen.)

(The first one wasn't sanctioned, it was just Neal jumping into things without thinking.)

(Like a kid.)

(The second wasn't really all that dangerous, because there were a ton of other people all around and their bad guy wouldn't have been looking for a kid in the crowd.)

(And, Peter suspects he wasn't the only one to give Hughes an earful about the third.)

"It's good for him," Peter explains, once the CI walks away to 'flirt' with one of the women in the office. "Keeps him out of prison, keeps him out of trouble, keeps him surrounded by good influences, let's him help people, and actually lets him see some of the results of the good he's doing. -"

(Let's me sleep soundly, knowing he's safe.)

"- And, if it keeps our agents from getting shot at for not being able to out-act a Disney Channel star, that's just the cherry on top."

"How old is he?"

"His ID says thirty-two."

"And, I'm Lady Gaga."

Peter chuckles. "Yeah, none of us believe it, either, but we've got nothing better to go on, legally speaking. Talk to Riley over there about the office pool if you wanna put in your guess."

Neal comes back a few seconds later with a huge grin and box seat tickets for a Rangers game.

"...Which one's Riley, again?"

Clinton and Peter do what they can to keep Neal's mind off the situation with Kate by having the kid coach the younger agent on how to make it as a sales caller. He's not as good as Neal, but with the little con stuffing aces up his sleeves for him, he's feeling pretty confident.

Clinton is surprised at how... Okay Neal seems. The kid still looks tired, but he's got a spring in his step that has to be fake, no matter how convincing it is. After all, Neal's a conman - Er... Con-kid? Con-artist. - Convincing people of things that aren't true is literally in his job description. They all decide to play along with it, - No need to make him lose face, when he's trying so hard, - but also keep an eye on him.

Hopefully, Neal's just relieved to have Kate off his back, but it's gotta hurt, either way. He doesn't approve of the kid manipulating people, but he approves of adults manipulating kids - Any kid, - even less.

Things go fairly smoothly for the first few days of the case. He makes a decent number of sales, but not enough to really stand out among the crowd. Not enough to draw too much attention or suspicion. - Neal insists they need to take this slow or it'll bring out the bloodhounds. - Then, the people running the scam begin to get suspicious of Madison, their mole. They pull her after work finishes that day and put her under protective supervision. Leaving her in will get them little - If any, - new information and, the way things are shaping up, could easily cost her her life.

After that, everyone in the call-room is on edge, not sure who to trust. Naturally, they're suspicious of the new guy, but all Jones can do is work extra hard and make as many sales as possible to prove his loyalty. (Even if Neal swears that's exactly what a spy would do.)

Finally, they pull in Peter to act as Mr. Edison, the owner of the company being used for the scam. He threatens to turn them in if he doesn't get a cut.

The two agents end up at a party for the call-room workers that Saturday, where Peter is shown a vault belonging to Avery, the owner of the house the party's being hosted at. It's apparently where he keeps his extensive and exorbitant comic book collection. It's also the most likely place for him to keep the ledger with the evidence of his crimes, considering its state-of-the-art fire-suppression system.

Problem is... It's got a state-of-the-art fire-suppression system.

If triggered, the door seals shut and all the air is sucked out of the room.

Great for stopping a fire.

Great for killing an agent going after the ledger, too.

"So, how do we get the ledger out without suffocating?" Clinton wonders aloud.

"Find the kill-switch and stop the vacuum," Peter replies. "I've also pulled some mini-breathers. Each one will give you five minutes of air. I got six of them."

"Half an hour," The younger agent nods. "Not bad. How'd you get the higher-ups to part with so many?" He asks, knowing how stingy the Bureau can be with gadget-use. You'd think they'd be more worried about losing agents than toys.

Peter shrugs, smirking. "Meh. I pulled some strings."

"Or, we can wait for Avery to leave, then use a hammer to smash a hole in the wall before trying to tamper with the fire-system," Neal notes, tossing his rubber band ball over his head. At the others' silence, he looks at them. "Can't suck the air outta the whole house," He shrugs.

"...Property damage is frowned upon," Peter says, but it sounds more like he's trying to find a loophole than actually agreeing with that sentiment.

"We'd also need a warrant to get in," Lauren says, standing. Likely going to work on exactly that.

"Do it quietly, Cruz. We don't wanna tip this guy off."

"I know what to do," she confirms.

"You're telling me the FBI would get mad at you for knocking a hole in the wall, when the room, itself, is trying to kill you?" Neal asks, incredulous.

"You say that like the room is sentient," Clinton scoffs.

"Maybe it is," Neal smirks cryptically, probably just to be annoying.

"They'd be fine if we did it after the fire-system's triggered," Peter continues, trying to get them back on track. "It's just a question of how capable anyone would be of hitting the wall that hard when the air's being sucked out of the room."

"One," the kid holds up a finger, "you've got the mini-breather things for that. Two," another finger, "who's gonna tell 'em you didn't do it after the system was triggered?"

The agents look at each other. "...There're no cameras in the vault. Forensics might be able to tell when a person died, but I don't think they can't tell you what time a hole was made in plaster," Clinton hedges. "It is just plaster, right?"

"Yeah. Schematics say, other than the door and the pump that sucks the air out, it's just a normal room." Peter slaps the table. "Alright. I hate it, but it's either this or possibly losing an agent. I'd much rather keep my guys safe. No matter what the higher-ups think is more important." He leans in close. "But, if anybody asks, this conversation never happened."

The other two just nod. One solemn, the other grinning far-too-smugly.

Avery's business partner, Daniel Reed, is more than happy to distract Avery in exchange for cutting a deal with the FBI. The plan goes off without a hitch. They don't even need to use the mini-breathers.

"Get 'im for attempted murder, too," Neal calls, as Avery is led out of the FBI building in cuffs. "My parents had one o' those fire-suppression systems and it's not s'pposed to trigger that easily. He just wanted it to kill thieves."

"Why did your parents have one of those?" Diana asks, incredulous.

Neal pales, as though just realizing he shouldn't have said that. A truly rare occurrence.

"I honestly can't believe you're not focusing on the fact I have parents and wasn't spawned from a magical treasure chest, or something," the kid deflects after a moment. When nobody takes the bait, he continues, "Seriously, Haversham thought I was an alien, at first."

"Space alien or immigrant alien?" One of the other agents in the room wonders aloud.

"Space alien."

"Why?"

Okay, maybe they are taking the bait. But, Peter's definitely coming back to this later.

"You told them I thought you were an alien!?"

"I panicked!"

"...Did your parents really have a -"

"Yeah."

"So, the ghost stuff really was all a cover-up."

"No! We've been over this, Moz! I'm really a ghost! I am not an alien pretending to be a ghost!"

"Oh, no, I believe you about that. I meant your parents."

"My parents aren't ghosts."

"No! Their ghost stuff!"

"...You know about my parents' ghost stuff?"

"Yeah, man. You're the spitting image of little Danny Fenton, who died in their portal when it exploded. Once I knew to look for a dead person, it was way too easy to find you. How come you lied about when you died, though?"

"I didn't lie. I just didn't know I was dead for the first few years."

"...You... Didn't know you were dead? How did you not know you were dead? For years?"

"...Get the wine."

Chapter Text

It seems the "actual" adults in Danny's life have been collaborating or something, since none of them let him answer the phone if it's an unknown number anymore. He understands what they're doing, and he appreciates it. He's all too happy to hand it off to someone else if there's a chance it's Kate. But, he is a little disappointed he can't use the opportunity to scam back the scam callers, which is what he usually does. At least Mozzie understands that part, and hands the phone back whenever that's the case.

Danny spends Christmas Eve with Mozzie and June. He spends Christmas Day with Mozzie, Peter, and Elizabeth, because he doesn't want to intrude on June's time with her family.

(Just because she's my Family doesn't mean she has to feel the same way about me. Look at Kate.)

(June's nice. June's Family.)

(And, that's why I need to give her space to celebrate with the people she loves most.)

They all not only look over his usual, winter funk, but try to help him through it.

He suspects all of them but Mozzie blame his mood on Kate. Danny figures his mood during the winter months is likely the reason she doesn't call back. His Brother knows it has something to do with his parents and that he's always like this. He hopes the others understand when he's still like this next year.

(Maybe we won't be, though. Maybe we'll be more okay by then.)

(Maybe, but I don't wanna get my hopes up too high.)

(Maybe we won't even be here next year.)

(Nope, now you're going too far in the other direction.)

They go to the office and handle some mortgage fraud. They drink hot coffee and hot chocolate. All five of them get together for dinner on New Year's Eve, where Peter mercifully doesn't make a fuss when Danny has a little bit of champagne at the stroke of midnight. They all constantly make a fuss for Danny to dress warmly.

(He's annoyed when Mozzie, - Who knows he's got an ice Core and that the cold doesn't effect him, - starts doing it, too, but quickly starts to suspect his Brother is just playing with him.)

It's nice. Winter of 2012-2013 is one of the best winters he's ever had.

He still nearly gives into temptation and calls his sister a few times. Almost calls Sam and Tucker. He just wants to hear their voices, but that's nothing new.

Finally, Mozzie looks into them and tells him how they're all doing. He doesn't wanna look, himself.

Jazz is already the most likely student to get valedictorian this year. Tucker's being touted as a genius by most of MIT. Sam apparently started feeling nostalgic at some point and released hundreds of live frogs into her school.

(Judging by the fact no one could ever find any video evidence of how it happened, he's gonna take a wild guess and say Tucker helped remotely. But, he still knows it was her.)

Mozzie asks if he wants to know about his parents, and he says yes.

He's still not sure if it was a good idea.

His mom's views on ghosts have gotten worse and more violent. She's started blaming everything - Everything, - that happens on ghosts and the supernatural and wound up in a psychiatric ward.

But, his dad... He's gone the opposite direction. He's quiet and withdrawn and he barely even speaks anymore. He does nothing but mope and eat.

(Does he really miss me that much?)

(Or, does he just miss his job?)

(Or, mom and Jazz?)

(Does he actually feel bad for hunting people?)

(I'm worried about dad.)

(I'm worried about them all.)

He falls asleep on the couch, tucked under June's arm with Mozzie on his other side, while he suffers through their stupid Tiles of Fire marathon.

It's worth it, though. Worth it to make them happy and much better than suffering through this alone.

He loves his Family.

(We love a lot of people, lately.)

(It's nice.)

(He wishes his old Family could be here and be happy, too.)

(That part's not so nice. I'm worried.)

About a week after New Year's, Peter and Neal get to work on the case of a grandfather who left his house to his son and granddaughter, then supposedly took out a second mortgage, leaving them homeless. In the meantime, Jones, Diana, and Cruz report on their investigation into Kate and Operation Mentor.

The duo finds a crooked judge. The trio finds some suspicious information on Fowler. Haversham links the two things together.

"Fowler's got a judge in his pocket?" Peter wonders, looking over the files laid out on Neal's kitchen table. "Where'd you get all this, anyway?"

"'I've learned that we're all entitled to have our secrets.' - Nicholas Sparks."

"Did you seriously just quote The Notebook?" Neal half-groans.

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it. The question is, what are you going to do with this information, Suit?" The bald man asks, seeming less suspicious than he used to be, but it's definitely still there. That's fine. Peter's still suspicious of him, too. He knows they both mostly put up with each other for Neal's benefit. "If you file a report, Fowler will know you're onto him."

Peter growls in frustration. "You're right. So, how do we go about this?" He straightens and starts moving around, hoping it'll get his mental juices flowing. "How can we do something without alerting Fowler - Or, Kate, - to what we're doing? At least, until it's too late for them to do anything about it?"

His phone rings.

"One second." He answers the call. "Hey, hon."

"Hey! How would you and Neal like to come home for lunch?"

"I'd like that a lot," Peter answers, only a little wary of the tone she's using.

"Good. I'm trying out a new caterer for an upcoming event. I would love your opinions on the food."

He relaxes. He's not in trouble, then. "Ah, what's the menu?"

"Well, um, sampling some Pâté, cooked goose, a lotta fancy stuff."

Peter can feel his expression falling with every syllable. "...You know how much I love... Stuff."

"Honey," She giggles. "I'm just trying to help get Neal's mind off things. Make sure he feels welcome. He seemed really down during the holidays. Though, I would appreciate borrowing his palette for a while. And, yours, as well." She tacks on, almost patronizing, but he knows she's just playing.

Relief floods through him. "Oh. That's why you're calling," He says, but can feel his smile growing. The kid is pointedly not looking at him. He's beginning to suspect Neal can hear better than he lets on. He always pointedly looks somewhere else when someone's talking about him. For a supposed con-artist, he's got a lot of tells. "My wife's inviting you to lunch," He says, as the kid turns amused, blue eyes on him. "But, why do I get the feeling you already knew that?"

"Invite Mozzie, too, if he's with you." She adds, before the kid can reply.

He furrows his brows. "Mozzie?"

"Tell her I'd love to."

Peter stares at the odd, bald man for a moment, before putting the phone back to his ear in exasperation. "Mozzie would be happy to help."

A short while later, Mozzie's regretting agreeing to this, as the three of them get a taste of the rotten cuisine.

"So, who was the other, unfortunate guinea pig?" The Suit asks sardonically, once he's done swiping his tongue with a napkin. Danny disappeared into the kitchen five milliseconds after taking a bite.

(Mozzie's fault, probably. He keeps telling the kid he needs to give fancy stuff a try, even when it smells funny.)

"No one."

"Well, then why are there two coffee cups on the table?"

(Color me surprised. That's some good detective work.)

(Makes sense a suit would use it on his own wife and in their own home.)

"Oh, I made coffee for the cable guy. It went out this morning, so he came by to fix it."

"A cable guy? At this hour?" Mozzie wonders, surprised. "Who's your provider?"

"When did you call them," Peter asks, as Danny wanders back in with a bowl of Lucky Charms.

(Likely to wash the taste of rancid food out of his mouth.)

"Actually, they called me. They accidentally cut a power line down the street. They were fixing the cable, so they sent someone."

That didn't sound right. If a power-line had been cut, it would've knocked out everything, not just the cable.

At their suspicious expressions, she continues, "I thought it was a little strange, too, but I actually asked the neighbors, and their cable went out as well... Why? What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, Peter dials a number on the phone. It rings, then they all hear a dial tone. He pulls over the notepad Elizabeth's been using to take notes on the event she's planning. Bug, he writes in large letters.

Mozzie motions towards the door and the Suit nods. He'll come back with his tools again. And, he just cleaned this place.

Ah, well. As the kid's big Brother, he figures it's his responsibility to help look out for his other Ties. So far, Elizabeth and June are both passing with flying colors in the good-for-Danny department. Peter's... Awkward, but Mozzie makes it a point in general not to throw too many stones on that subject.

Peter, Elizabeth, and Danny sit around the table, the elder two making small-talk for whoever's listening in to listen in to until Mozzie returns. Danny, however, is much more concerned with the long-term of things. This is the second bug they've found in the Burkes' home in a very short amount of time, and he's learned from years of experience dealing with Vlad that the best way to get people to stop planting listening devices in your home is to make your home unbearable to spy on. Sure, you could just bore them to death, but...

He glances around for the tell-tale signs he's learned to recognize, - Now that he knows there's something to look for, - then walks over to a painting on the wall and removes one of the bugs from the back. He then calmly walks back over to the table and holds it up to his mouth, as he continues to munch on his cereal.

Loudly.

The Burke's just stare at him a moment, before glancing at each other, grinning, and following his lead.

Elle finds one in the kitchen and sits it nearby as she starts to clatter the dishes around in the sink, as though she's washing them a little more roughly than necessary. Peter finds one in the upstairs bathroom and pointedly holds it near his mouth as he shows it to Danny, then SHOUTS THAT HE'S GOING TO TAKE A SHOWER NOW!

Moments later, the little ghost hears the water turn on upstairs, followed quickly by the sound of Peter singing - So off-key it has to be on purpose, - at the top of his lungs.

Honestly, they might just get a noise complaint from this, but Danny's pretty sure it's cathartic enough for all three of them to be worth it.

This can't be a coincidence. There's too much happening in quick succession.

Peter thinks back as far as he can, then runs through the chain of events as he knows them in his head.

(All while using the bug he found in the bathroom to exact well-deserved, ear-splitting justice, of course.)

(He hopes the neighbors don't complain. Or, worse, retaliate. He likes these neighbors.)

One: Neal and Kate meet. (Indeterminate time, date, location, and method.)

Two: Kate starts helping Neal with his cons, but might have been working her own cons before that. Also indeterminate.

Three: Kate gets caught committing a petty crime and strikes a deal: Her freedom in exchange for Neal Caffrey.

Four: Neal is arrested and, - For some idiotic reason, - tried as an adult.

Five: Neal spends twenty months in prison, with Kate visiting him every week, despite the fact she sold him out to save herself. Eighty visits to a person she clearly cares nothing about.

Six: Kate runs, Neal escapes prison to follow. Reason, once again, indeterminate.

Seven: Kate disappears, Neal gets caught. Again.

Eight: Neal strikes a deal of his own. Peter's team starts solving serious cases with a, frankly, very impressive success rate, thanks in part to the kid's acting tutelage.

Nine: Not long after their partnership begins, an Interpol agent tries to ruin one of their cases for political and/or monetary reasons, while also trying to use Kate to get Neal to turn on them.

(Why Neal, specifically? He's good, but he's a kid. Why does everyone seem to be going after him and not any of the other big-time thieves and forgers, like Tulane?)

(Why did it seem like Fowler was actually trying to use Tulane to get to Neal?)

Ten: Neal scales down the side of a building to get away.

(Peter's still not over that yet. He keeps having nightmares of the kid falling from someplace high up, where all he can do is watch. He always wakes up just before impact, for which he's eternally grateful.)

(Last night, he actually dreamed the kid started to fly instead of hitting the ground, which was... Weird. But, dreams usually are, and it was still much better than the alternative.)

Eleven: Peter looks into Kate, tells Neal she's okay. Neal says he'll leave it to Peter and let Kate go.

Twelve: They find out Kate is part of a program called Operation Mentor. Meaning, she's probably been up to something on her own since breaking things off with Neal.

(Could she be the reason Neal's a criminal? Could they get her on corruption of a minor? Peter needs to get her on something, if only for the kid's sake.)

Thirteen: Fowler, who it turns out is over Mentor, shows up to investigate Peter's CI and, by proxy, Peter's entire team.

Fourteen: Someone tries to frame Neal for the theft of a large, pink diamond.

(Peter's glad he never mentioned or looked into Neal's claims of signing the bonds he forged. He gets the feeling that, if that information had been in the system, they would've found a signature on the fake diamond, too.)

Fifteen: Upon requesting all records on Neal Caffrey, Haversham - Or, rather, Mozzie, - finds out that Fowler had documents shredded. Documents that reveal the presence of a bug in Peter and Elizabeth's home phone.

Sixteen: Mozzie cleans the house of bugs, but only finds the one.

Seventeen: Kate calls Neal on Peter's brand new house phone - Bought to replace the old one, which just felt dirty after the discovery of the bug. It had nothing to do with the fact he couldn't figure out how to put it back together again. He totally could've if he'd tried, he just didn't have the time. - and upsets him badly enough to send the kid into some kind of...

Not quite a panic attack. Not quite shock, either. Whatever it was, Peter doesn't like it. No kid should look that... Empty.

Eighteen: Peter has his closest and most-trusted agents start looking into Fowler and Operation Mentor in earnest, but also in secret. It's slow-going, courtesy of all the red-tape they're having to wade through as quietly as possible.

Nineteen: Mozzie finds out Fowler has a crooked judge in his pocket.

Twenty: Peter's home is bugged again. Number of devices TBD.

If one looks at the pattern, things are probably just going to keep escalating. It doesn't matter, though. Getting rid of Fowler's judge takes power away from the man and helps people in the process. It's the right thing to do morally, and a sound strategic decision.

(He hopes.)

They all need to be on their guard. He'll ask Mozzie to start cleaning his team's homes next.

(Wonder what he charges, if you're not Neal. He seems to have a soft spot for the kid, just as much as any of us.)

When Danny and Peter get back to the office, with the files on Judge Clark waiting for their team to get to work on, Fowler shows up.

"What're you doing here?" Peter demands.

"I'm workin' on a project in New York," the man replies smugly.

(Danny would like nothing better than to overshadow him and have him dance the polka on an office desk in his underwear. See him get past that with the higher-ups.)

"Operation Mentor?" Peter asks, because, like many agents, subtlety is a goal he strives for but never quite achieves. Danny used to be like that, too. He'd like to think he's better than he used to be.

(Mozzie says he's better. But, Mozzie also pretends to cough a lot when Danny's practicing.)

Regardless, the question does seem to displease Fowler. "I can't comment on that," he says, almost before Peter's finished speaking. "In fact, I would even say you're not supposed to know it even exists."

(Oh, well. If we're doing this in the middle of the office, at least we've got witnesses. Some of which are probably on our side.)

(Maybe.)

(But, even if it's just me and Peter, I've been outnumbered worse before and still come out on top.)

(But, you also had full access to your powers then.)

(Not in prison. I'm way better off now than I was then. I survived that, I can survive this.)

"You can pin this one on me," Danny smirks up at the man, who looks at him with confusion for a moment, seeming not to have noticed him. "You like pinnin' things on me, right?"

"...Are... You Caffrey?"

"Yep," Danny says, popping the 'p'.

"You're twelve."

"That's what everyone keeps telling me."

Just then, Hughes appears at the top of the stairs and shouts down to Fowler. Apparently, the man is setting up shop in their building for the moment.

"Oh, relax, Burke," he smirks, walking away. "Just borrowin' your phones for a little while."

(Oh, if Danny could ecto-blast him right now...)

Not long later, while going over the case, - And, after a very interesting conversation about signature-forging, - Peter and Neal are suddenly interrupted by Fowler again.

"Whatcha doin'?" He asks cockily, standing in their doorway.

"You need somethin', Fowler?" Peter asks, irritated. He shouldn't even be here. It's unprofessional and a breach of conduct to interrupt an active investigation like this.

The man makes a face Peter can't quite describe, but is pretty sure he saw a few times back in junior high, before walking away without another word.

Skin crawling and unable to sit still any longer, the agent stands, grabs his coat, and tells Neal to follow him. They're going to to talk to Judge Clark.

"She tried to bribe me," Peter says incredulously, as they walk back to the car together.

"I know. Quarter mil. What an insult."

('Bout an eighth of my bounty in the Ghost Zone, last I checked.)

"You gonna take it?" Danny grins. He knows Peter won't, - Not when Clark's doing this by hurting innocent families, - but asks anyhow, just to be annoying and get his friend fired up for the fight that's clearly ahead of them.

"Of course, not!" He insists, giving Danny exactly the reaction he'd expected. "Wait. How'd you know she bribed me?"

"I listened in through the window."

"Did you scale another building!?"

"No. I don't need that lecture a second time, thank you. I climbed a tree." Using a hint of flight, since the lowest branch was well above his head, but still. He'd technically climbed it. "You know she videoed the whole conversation and is gonna try to frame you for corruption, right?"

"WHAT!?"

After giving Hughes a heads up about the entire incident, - He's not happy about it, but is glad Peter let him know before the recording surfaced. Of course, Peter also left out the part where Neal was up a tree looking in through a judge's window, so... - The agent and CI head home. Once again, Mozzie has only finished sweeping part of the house and they'll have to sleep in the living room.

This time, they pull out three sleeping bags, all of them spending the night in the floor.

"Who says you can't camp in New York," Elle sighs, curled up next to Peter.

"I do," Neal states matter-of-factly, from where he's playing with Satchmo a few feet away. "You can't see the stars from here. It's one of the only things I hate about this city."

The adults are surprised, but smile at each other as the teen starts into a rant about exactly which stars and planets would be visible this time of year, if not for all the light pollution.

"Since when do you know so much about astronomy?" Peter asks, amused.

"I wanted to be an astronaut," Neal admits. "I was a regular science nerd. Went to space camp, built model rockets, I even got my computer-whiz friend to download me a copy of the flight simulation program actual pilots use to train. Managed to clock enough hours on it to get my pilot's license."

"You can fly a plane?" That's a horrifying thought. For many, many reasons.

"Not legally, but sure." And, it just got even more horrifying. "I could've taken the test to get my license, but I never did."

"What changed?" Elle asks, going for conversational, but Peter can hear the sad note in her tone.

Neal looks at them, then back at the dog, and shrugs in a way that lets them know he's hurt and trying to be tough about it. Trying to hide a weakness, so it can't be used against him. "They don't exactly let felons join the space program." The mask slips back into place and he grins in that way Diana calls 'gremlin-like'. "Unless I do something really bad and they blast me off the planet just to get rid of me."

It doesn't feel like he's pushing them away, exactly. Just defending himself. Peter gets that. He doesn't like it, but he gets it. He went to high school, after all. Still, he wants to do something to make the kid feel safe. He just doesn't know what. It's so frustrating!

"Well, if you do go into space," Elle begins, likely saving Peter from eating yet another shoe, "take me with you, would you? Saturn would make a gorgeous wedding venue. I'd be the most coveted party planner in the galaxy."

The kid grins at her, more genuinely this time. "Gimme twenty percent and a slice o' cake from every party and it's a deal."

"You drive a hard bargain, mister," she replies, grinning right back as they playfully shake on it.

They banter a little while longer. They flip on the TV and watch another movie together. - A gangster film, with Neal translating all the old mobster slang, blushing adorably at some of the more R-rated terms and refusing to repeat them in front of Elle. Peter understands all the slang, too, but enjoys watching the kid play. - It's nice.

In the middle of the movie, Peter speaks up.

"Tell ya what," he says, turning to Neal, "Tell me your birthday, - Your actual birthday. The one you were born on. - and we'll see if we can get someplace you can see the stars by the time you turn seven."

Danny thinks about it. He doesn't even bother to argue with the ridiculous age suggestion.

Can he share that information? Legally speaking, Danny Fenton's dead. - Beyond dead, considering Mozzie says they'd had to identify him using his dental records. - He doubts dead people come up in FBI searches, unless they have reason to believe they're not actually dead. Not even if you share a birthday with that person.

But, then again, Danny's usually just sent to the file room. He doesn't do much of the actual computer searching. So, he could be wrong...

But, it's definitely tempting...

He's never been great with temptation, unless the lesson was forcibly beaten into his thick skull using time-travel and other such nonsensical misadventures...

"No years?" The kid asks tentatively, after a moment. Peter had almost thought he wasn't gonna answer.

"I think a year would get us further from the city, but I can make a pretty good case for a month and a day."

"...August fourteenth."

Both adults smile at him. "Only a week and a half before mine?" Peter asks.

"And, how many candles should I put on the cake on August fourteenth?" Elle asks teasingly, likely knowing she won't get a real answer.

"No way," Neal smiles back. "I wanna see just how big the office betting pool can get."

Peter scoffs. "It's already at three thousand bucks. You really think it's getting any bigger than that?"

"I think I can try," The kid grins at him mischievously. Then, his eyes light up. "Oooh! Think we can get one of those candles shaped like a question mark?"

"I think we can make that happen," Elle agrees. "August... That's a long time to wait... Maybe we can find time to go to the planetarium before then?" She looks at Peter imploringly.

"Really?" The kid asks, propping himself up on his elbows.

If Peter had been uncertain when he'd heard Elle suggest it, that uncertainty was completely gone now.

"Yeah... Let's get Fowler and Clark, and then we'll see if we can make the planetarium happen."

It's right at this moment there's a knock at the door. It's Hughes. He looks at Neal oddly, but doesn't ask why he's here, just for him and Elle to let him speak to Peter alone.

"I'm not here in an official capacity. I'm here as your friend. OPR has launched an investigation into you."

"Why?" Peter demands.

"Because, they have video evidence of you taking a bribe from a judge. Look, I told them you were working a case and were only playing along. I even told them I sanctioned it for the investigation and we knew about the recording." He sighs. "Now, I get the feeling I'm next on the list."

"Great," Peter huffs irritably. "This is just great. I try to get a crooked judge and they blame me, instead."

"Fowler's presenting the video tomorrow morning," Hughes informs him. "...I can't protect you Peter... I might not even be able to protect myself... And, I know what you're doing." Peter looks at him, instinct causing him to tense defensively, even though he doesn't know from what. Hughes came to warn him after all. "But, keeping Caffrey around, - Letting him sleep in your house every other night, is not helping matters."

Peter stares at him for a long moment. "Neal's here, because Interpol kidnapped him, tried to bribe him, then came to his apartment and tried to force him to do what they wanted. Neal's here, because OPR tried to frame him for the theft of the diamond, even when he had an FBI agent's word for an alibi, while the real culprit just had fake plane tickets. Fake plane tickets that only took our guys fifteen minutes to prove were fake, once OPR stopped slowing them down. Neal's here, because my home has been bugged twice in the past two months and he doesn't feel safe anywhere anymore. And, you're on their side?"

"They bugged your house?"

"...Follow me."

He leads his old friend upstairs, glances around, then finds exactly what Neal had found that morning. Another bug hidden behind a painting on the wall. He shows it to Hughes, who furrows his brows.

He puts it back and they go back downstairs.

"I assume that's why you're sleeping down here?" Hughes asks quietly.

"For the second time in a handful o' weeks, yeah."

"What makes you so sure there aren't any more down here?"

Peter shrugs. "Neal knows a cleaner. He only had time to get part of the house." They're both silent for a moment. "Look," Peter begins finally. "They're not going through proper channels. They've been at this ever since the thing with the diamond. Which was not only proven to not be Neal, but had nothing to do with me either way."

"And, what do you propose I do?" Hughes half-demands. He looks like a man cornered and at the end of his wits.

"...I propose you be careful what you say. Even at home."

The man leaves a moment later and Elle and Neal wander back in, both looking pale and scared.

"This is serious, isn't it?" Elle asks, concerned.

"Yeah," he confirms, "Hughes could lose his job for giving me a heads up about the investigation. And, with the way things are going, there's a very good chance they'll go after him next."

"This guy, um... Fowler. He's not gonna stop?"

"No."

"Guys like him never do," Neal agrees, what Peter could almost swear is a slight tremor in his voice.

He looks at both of them. "I'll fix it," he assures.

"How?" They ask in tandem, then look at each other. Elle pulls Neal into a side-hug and runs her fingers through his hair. The little menace blushes up a storm, like someone Peter hasn't seen squished happily between a pair of gorgeous, French models before.

There's no time to waste. They've gotta figure this out. He kisses his wife, grabs his coat and his kid, and heads for the door.

Chapter Text

Peter and Danny have been in the office less than an hour when Danny finally finds a chance to call Mozzie. He tells Peter he's going to put on another pot of coffee for them, then hits speed-dial. Of course, his Brother assures him he's got it handled.

He understands how vital Family is for Danny. He needs to keep them all safe.

"It'll be just like old times," he says, and Danny can hear the small smile in his voice. "I just need you to get there before anything is presented. You think you can... Do your thing for a few seconds? I wouldn't ask if we weren't on a time crunch."

"Yeah." He'd say he's running at about thirty-two percent. Better than he's been in years.

"And, it won't hurt you?" Mozzie presses.

"Yeah. No. I can do it." For Peter. For Family.

No sooner has he hung up, than the elevator doors open and Jones walks in.

"Hey," the little ghost greets, surprised. "What're you doin' here?"

"Just catchin' up on some work," the man replies, before ruffling Danny's hair on his way past. "Shouldn't you be in bed, little man?"

"I've stayed up late for stuff, before," Danny replies defensively. "Besides," He looks towards Peter's office. "It's for Peter."

The man smiles at him and nods. "Ya know, for a conman, you're not so bad, kid."

"I'll have you know I'm nothing but trouble," Danny replies, feigning insult, but lets it drop a moment later. "Want some coffee?"

Before he can finish the sentence, the sounds of throngs of people coming in the front doors downstairs fill his ears.

"Sure," he agrees. Danny's confusion at the noise must show on his face, because he then continues, "I guess you're gonna start another pot now, huh?"

Seconds later, the elevator dings again and dozens of agents pour into the office.

They're here to help Peter.

They here to help Danny's Family.

"Yeah," he smiles. "I guess I am."

The group of agents have been in the office for less than twenty minutes, listening to Peter explain the situation, and, pretty much the second they start trying to investigate Judge Clark, someone suddenly decides to seal her files.

"Well, that's not suspicious, at all," Neal notes from the doorway. Peter can't help but agree with him. "We're almost outta coffee. You guys can really put it away, after nine PM." The agents chuckle. "I would probably understand better, if someone would let me have some," he adds pointedly, half-glaring at Diana, who puts on an angelic facade.

If there's not a fun story behind that, Peter's a wildlife photographer.

"Anyhow. Want me to run down the street and grab some more?" The kid continues, "Stores won't be open for a while, but I know a cafe that will be in a few."

Peter thinks a moment. "...No. This isn't where we need to be. We need to go back to the source." He grabs his coat. "And, you, need to get to bed."

"I'm not even tired!"

The agents laugh again, and Danny pointedly ignores it.

Peter takes Danny back to June's, where he immediately meets up with Mozzie. Instead of going to bed, - How does Peter expect him to sleep at a time like this? - they head to the courthouse and wait outside for a delivery truck to show up. They find a place out of sight of the security cameras and Danny waits there, while Mozzie sticks near the front entrance. When the truck shows up, the elder conman signals the younger, who then turns invisible and phases through the front door behind the delivery guy.

He follows the man to an office, where the guy picks up the tape - And, it's confirmed Danny's following the right delivery guy, - then tails him back to the truck. He climbs in the back, rubs the magnet against the package for a minute, then slips out the back door, back around the corner, and onto the visible spectrum once again.

"You sure you got it?" Mozzie asks, as he rejoins his Brother.

"As sure as I can be," the little ghost replies.

"You alright? You didn't do too much at once, did you?" He asks worriedly. "Don't look at me like that! You gotta admit, you're a little out of practice."

Danny smiles at him, ffeling whatever irritation he must've shown melting away. "I'm okay, Moz. It felt pretty good, actually."

"Good." He puts a hand on Danny's shoulder. "I still think my plan would've been more fun, though."

"Why do you enjoy tormenting poor, innocent, delivery drivers, so much?"

"I wasn't gonna torment him. I was just gonna mess with him a little. You know it would'a been funny."

(Sometimes, I think Mozzie's chaotic good. But, other times...)

Danny's phone rings before he can reply. It's the number for the burner phone Mozzie grabbed for Peter when he realized his cellphone was tapped, too.

"Where are you?" Peter says, in lieu of a greeting.

"Mozzie and I were just talking about ideas on how to help you."

"...Did you do anything illegal?"

Danny's not entirely sure what to label that tone. It's somewhere between disapproving and maybe a little hopeful.

"I did not do anything that there are currently any laws against in the state of New York, no." Technically, there aren't any laws specifically against phasing through walls in any state, - Except maybe Massachusetts. The Salem Witch Trials left some scars. - but Peter's just too fun to mess with.

(Oh, wait, tampering with evidence is illegal. Oops.)

Peter sighs, then rallies himself. "Well, did Mozzie have any ideas?"

"Maybe," Danny replies. "We're working on it. How about you?"

"I talked to Herrera. -" That'd be the officer Clark forced into 'retirement', then. "- It took some convincing, but he told me Clark hides the evidence against herself in her office."

Danny glances up at the building. "You don't say... Okay. I'll meet you back at the Bureau as soon as I can." At the man's uncertain pause, he adds, "Do you really wanna know wha-"

"No. You're right. Just... Be careful and don't do anything too stupid."

"Will do."

"And, no more scaling buildings."

Danny hangs up, grinning.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" Mozzie asks again, after Danny explains the situation. "We can still do this the old-fashioned way."

As Judge Clark heads right past them, up the front steps and into the building, they both realize it's too late for that.

Oh, well. Danny's on a roll. What's a little more ghostliness for today?

He goes back to the spot with no cameras and fades back out of the visible spectrum. Mozzie stands nearby, both to block view from pedestrians and gape at the ability now that he's up close.

"That is so unbelievable and so cool," the ghost-kid hears the older conman mutter under his breath. Then, he starts muttering about a conspiracy he's been reading about online.

Danny heads inside, making sure to keep an eye on his internal 'battery life'.

(Twenty-nine percent.)

He floats up to the window he'd been watching through the night before. It'd probably take less energy to just walk through the doors and up the stairs, but he doesn't want to risk anyone hearing his disembodied footsteps.

(Twenty-seven percent.)

He floats into Clark's office. He knows from the case with Alisha Teagan and Patrick Aimes that Peter can't use any evidence he got without a warrant.

(Laws don't seem to be stopping Fowler.)

(Shut up. Twenty-six percent.)

(Well... If I can't take it straight from the office, then I guess I'll just have to get her to move it somewhere else. It's gotta be easier to get a warrant for a vault than a judge's chambers, right?)

He puts just a little too much power into ransacking the place supernaturally, but it just feels so good to be ghostly, again. Then, he floats back out the window and touches down next to Mozzie, trying to make just a little bit of sound so he doesn't startle him.

"Danny?" His Brother whispers. "Is that you?"

Then, he just can't help but wait a few moments before replying, just to see the paranoid man grow more paranoid. "Yeah, it's me." He finally admits, popping back into view with a grin. "Peter can't use anything obtained without a warrant, so I made sure she knows someone's been looking for things in her office. We'll need your surveillance equipment to find out where she's gonna move it to."

"Can't you just listen through the window again?"

"..."

"Danny," he presses suspiciously.

"I might'a overdone it just a little."

"Oh, great! Where would you say your energy levels are at, right now?" He demands, pressing a hand to Danny's forehead, like he thinks he'll find a fever or something. "Why are you so cold?"

"I'm always cold." Danny answers automatically, then thinks about the first question and mentally gauges how his Core feels. "Hmm. I'd say around twelve percent." At his Brother's indignant and panicked squawk, he continues, "I've been way lower than that before. Below twenty is unhealthy, but single-digits is the real danger zone. Besides, I only had a little over thirty percent when we got here."

In all honestly, he feels like a stiff breeze might knock him over or carry him away, but he's not about to tell Mozzie that right now. He's dealt with much worse.

"You were below the halfway point and did things this way anyhow!?"

"Would you calm down," He whisper-yells back, glancing around pointedly. Before his Brother can start back up, he adds, "One: I haven't been higher than about twenty-seven since before I ever met you. Two: Peter is Family. Three: With you, and Peter, and Elizabeth, and June all as my Family, I'll probably build it back up to where it was within a few weeks. A month tops."

"A MONTH!?"

"Four: Even if that wasn't the case, I've got a much better chance low on energy out here than a little bit higher on energy back in prison. Which is exactly where they'll send me if Peter gets arrested."

Mozzie is neither happy nor convinced, but blessedly switches to whisper-shouting instead of regular-shouting. "You're telling me it's harder to phase through a prison wall once than it is to phase through a courthouse wall four times?"

"Yes. Because, they'll be watching me more closely than before, now that I've already proven I can escape. - I think maybe they still haven't figured out how I did it, which is good. My Core got really low on energy last time, though. - I'd also have to deal with being processed again, and that means overshadowing the doctor and hoping they don't remember anything, and -"

"Overshadow? Is that, like, a possession thing?" Mozzie's wearing that expression, again. The one he had when he thought Danny was an alien. Like he's trying really hard to trust that his little Brother isn't about to beam him aboard a mother-ship as a 'human specimen'.

"...There's a distinction," he hedges.

"What's the distinction?"

"Listening in on Clark's office first, ghost biology lessons later, Moz."

Peter doesn't know how they did it, but he knows they did. Neal and Mozzie managed - Somehow, - to wipe the tape with the evidence against him clean.

He intends to thank the kid the second he sees him.

But, then, he actually sees him.

"What happened to you?" He demands, as he enters his office, where he finds the kid perched on his desk, tossing and catching his rubber band ball.

Maybe Peter should get some more office toys.

June got Neal a Nintendo DS for Christmas. Maybe he should tell him he can bring it along for the more boring times at the office? As long as he doesn't play it instead of working.

(Focus, peter!)

Neal looks bad. Maybe even worse than when he got kidnapped by Meilin.

Peter's -

(Tiny. Pale. Sickly-looking.)

- CI looks at him like a deer in the headlights for a moment. But, just for a moment.

Then, he smiles that Neal Caffrey smile.

It doesn't hide the physical aspects. It doesn't even hide the internal parts Peter can see slipping through the cracks. Very un-Caffrey-like. How bad is this... Whatever-it-is?

"Nothing happened. What're you talking about, Peter?"

Peter puts a hand to the kid's forehead. Fevers are a sign of illnesses getting worse, right? This has to be some kind of illness. It feels like every time this kid leaves his sight for a few hours, he gets worse again.

(Is Neal on drugs? Is that what this is? I assumed he and Mozzie were the ones who wiped the tape, but maybe he just went off somewhere and got high and the tape was just good luck.)

"Why is everyone feeling of my head today?"

Neal's voice pulls him from his frantic thoughts and back to the physical world. Speaking of which. "Why are you so cold?"

"You and Mozzie both. I swear. I'm always cold, Peter."

"That's not healthy."

(It can't be healthy.)

The kid rolls his eyes. "No doctor has ever said it was any kind of danger to me."

That is a technicality. That is Neal's 'this statement is technically true' voice.

"...Has any doctor actually checked it?"

"I've never asked specifically, but I've seen several doctors since it started."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm talking to a lawyer, right now? I've seen doctors, too. Walking down the street. That doesn't mean they actually treated me. Did a doctor examine you in a professional setting, take note of your current condition, and say, in an official capacity, that everything was okay?"

The kid opens his mouth, then closes it again. Like a fish. Like a criminally-inclined, baby fish.

"A doctor has examined me in a professional setting and said nothing about my current condition."

Well, that non-answer was causing all kinds of alarm bells to go off in Peter's head.

"Why'd you rephrase it like that?"

"...Would it postpone this conversation if I said Judge Clark's moving the money tomorrow at noon and I know where she's moving it to?"

"Not if your health is at risk, no. Actually, I'd say it might make the conversation longer and more imminent."

"My health is not at risk. I'll be fine after I get some rest."

Peter grips the back of the chair in front of him tightly, takes a deep breath in through his nose, and lets it back out through his mouth.

(He thinks maybe that might be backwards from how you're supposed to do it, but he doesn't actually care much at the moment. Deep breathing has never helped calm him.)

"Fine," he relents with great reluctance. Because he's pretty sure pushing right now will just make the kid clam up tighter. "We'll continue this conversation later. But," He stresses, meeting the kid's eyes firmly. "You start feeling weak or tired or ill, you tell me. I'm not letting what happened with Meilin happen again. I care about you, Neal. Okay?"

"...Okay."

The response is so small and vulnerable, it almost doesn't sound like Neal Caffrey. Peter wonders, briefly, if this is the kid behind the conman.

"And, if I made you take a drug test?"

The kid blinks in genuine, childlike confusion, which does far more for Peter than anything he could've actually said in reply. In his experience, Neal's cons always look far too old for his face. He tries to act like a grown-up, calm and confident, but is still working with incomplete information about the world around him. Not like a teenager, nervous and unsure and also still working with incomplete information about the world around him. The latter is exactly how he looks right now.

"Do drugs make you cold?"

"Some can mess with your circulation, yeah," Peter tells him, as calmly as he can manage. Kids don't react well when he gets upset, even when it's not at them. With Neal, it generally makes him clam up even tighter about his secrets, - And, usually increases the number of unbearable puns in the vicinity, - holding whatever mask he's decided on in place as though with Superglue. "They can do a lotta things. Don't do drugs."

"I've never done drugs before. And, for the record, I've met people who smoke pot and I don't like the way it smells, so you don't have to worry."

"You do know alcohol is technically a drug, right?"

"Nuh-uh. Drugs are smoke and powder. Alcohol's a liquid."

(Child.)

"That's not how it works. Drugs are substances that alter your mental state." Probably not the textbook definition, but it'll do. "That includes pot, alcohol, and - Technically, - caffeine."

"Then you do drugs. For shame, Peter."

Peter supposes he really will have to table this discussion for the moment. He needs to talk to Elle about it anyway. Maybe consult Mozzie. The odd, little man seems to be in the loop about a lot regarding Neal. Of course, he's also not very likely to share anything within that loop without Neal's permission...

Yeah. Maybe they'll just save Mozzie as a last resort. Either way, speaking of the man.

"Did you and Mozzie wipe the tape?" He asks finally.

The kid grins at him, all teeth and happy-to-be-noticed pride. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure, you don't."

"So, what are we gonna do about Clark?"

"I assume you didn't obtain this information about her legally?"

The kid looks like he genuinely doesn't know if it was technically legal or not. Peter'd be upset, but he's too busy being relieved and grateful. Also, he only did it because Fowler started it.

Not that that reasoning would ever hold up in a court of law.

("He started it, your honor!")

("Judge! The defendant's touching me!")

("The Prosecutor's breathing my air!")

("Don't make me turn this courtroom around!")

"What constitutes 'illegally obtained', exactly?"

"Could you tell a cop how you did it?"

"No."

"Then, we can't do anything with it."

"Seriously?" The kid half-whines. "But, I didn't take anything. I just... Overheard a conversation. And, it's gonna be right there. Can't you get a warrant, or something?"

"In that short an amount of time, dealing with a crooked judge, OPR, and me already under investigation? It's not likely." He glances down at the papers on his desk. Then, he smirks. "But, maybe someone else can..."

Danny is really irked that they can't just get Clark, themselves, but he guesses tricking Fowler into getting her is alright, too. The crooked agent's irritation is entertaining, at least.

Being sat down on the Burkes' couch afterwards, with both adults looking at him with large amounts of apprehension and concern? Not so much.

"Honey, Peter's right, you do look bad," Elle says seriously, as Danny nervously plays with Satchmo's ears.

Then, like everyone else lately, she feels of his head.

"Why are you so cold?"

"I'm always cold."

"Apparently, he's always cold."

Elle looks between the two, obviously unsure what to make of their simultaneous responses.

After a moment, she sits down on Danny's other side, effectively sandwiching him between herself and the dog. Peter sits on the coffee table in front of them, sighing and folding his hands together.

"Alright. We all know something's going on."

"Do we really have to -"

Before Peter can interrupt him, a knock on the door does. The agent gets up to answer it.

"Mozzie," Peter says in surprise.

"I hope you weren't planning on talking to my client without me present," The man says, in place of a greeting.

"Client?" Peter and Elle both wonder aloud.

Danny genuinely doesn't know exactly why he's so relieved to see his Brother, but he is. Truly.

"Mr. Caffrey doesn't have to share his personal information with anyone, if he doesn't want to," the bald man states with fake haughtiness.

(At least, Peter thinks it's fake. It's kinda hard to tell sometimes.)

(Either way, the effect is ruined when he decides to reach over and pat the kid's hair without even looking.)

"Look," the agent begins, as the newcomer sets his briefcase down and pops it open, before positioning himself as close to Neal as he can with Satchmo in the way. He gets licked in the glasses for his troubles.

(Well, at least the dog's approval probably means the man doesn't have any ill intentions. Probably.)

(Peter's still not entirely sure about Mozzie, but he seems alright. Odd, but alright.)

"Look," Peter repeats, voice going soft as he catches Neal's eyes. He reclaims his position on the table. "We care about you. We just wanna know you're okay."

The kid looks to Mozzie, who makes a vague gesture Peter's deciding to interpret as either, 'it's your choice,' or, 'I'm behind you on this.' Possibly both.

(Probably both. Haversham's unusual, but he's a good man.)

The kid fidgets and flounders for a moment. Around him, the three adults sit patiently, - Though, Peter honestly feels equally (if not more) fidgety on the inside, - awaiting his response.

Finally, Neal meets Peter's eyes seriously. "I'm okay, Peter."

"Your health isn't in danger?" The agent presses, just to be sure. "You're absolutely sure about that?"

"Please, honey," Elle joins on his other side, placing a hand on his knee. "You look really unwell."

"We're just worried about you, bud."

The kid looks at Mozzie again, seeming at a loss, then back at the adults. "I'm okay. Really."

Peter feels his hopes deflate. Neal's not gonna trust him. He's just gonna clam up. But, why, though? Peter had thought they were getting pretty close, all four of them.

"But, just out of curiosity," he continues, in that tone that always makes the hairs on the back of Peter's neck stand on end. "If I were... Not quite alright, - Hypothetically, - wouldn't you have to report it to the Bureau?"

"Legally, yes, I would," Peter replies honestly.

He wants to add, "but, I won't, if you don't want me to." But, he doesn't. Things are beginning to click.

"And, if I didn't, then I could wind up in an even worse position than I just got out of. That's what you're worried about? Neal," He puts a hand on the kid's shoulder. "You don't have to protect me. I'm the adult. It's my job to protect you."

No. Oh no. The kid looks like he's trying not to cry, now. Peter can't handle crying. What did he do wrong? Why does this always happen?

"Family protects family," Neal states simply.

Oh. Neal considers them family.

There's something heavy in the words that Peter can't quite place, though.

"But, sometimes, you can't protect them," Mozzie notes. He looks at Peter seriously. "You know it's true, Suit. Look at it this way. They didn't care that Neal's a kid, when they tried him as an adult. Why would they care if he's sick?"

"...Okay," Peter decides, finally.

"Okay?" Neal - The kid Peter's legally responsible for, - asks, still snuggling Peter's dog. Siting on Peter's couch. Next to Peter's wife and a man who's - Maybe a little reluctantly, but still, - quickly becoming Peter's friend.

Peter's family.

It's been growing a lot lately. He wonders how he didn't notice.

"Okay," He repeats. "I understand why you don't want me to know in an official capacity. I wouldn't tell anyone, but you don't want to put me in that position. Honestly, at the moment, with everything going on with Fowler, it's probably for the best if I don't know just yet anyway."

"They can't get information from you that you don't have," Mozzie points out. The phrasing has a darker undertone than what Peter had actually meant, - He had been thinking of accidentally letting something slip, not being tortured for information like it sounds like the man's implying, - but it's no less true.

"But, we still want to know you're okay," Peter continues. "Is Mozzie at least looking after you? And, June?"

"Yeah," Neal smiles. It's small, but it's real. "They're family, too."

"We all are," Elizabeth agrees, putting her arm around the tiny CI. For the first time Peter's ever seen, the kid relaxes into the embrace, laying his head on her shoulder for just a moment.

Peter meets Mozzie's gaze again. The other man nods to him in something like understanding or maybe camaraderie.

It's nice.

It's not perfect, but it's good.

Chapter Text

"Mornin'," Danny greets, as he peeks his head into the Burkes' home. His Obsession may make him want to be familiar with people on principal, and the couple may be very welcoming to him in general, but none of that can trump a short lifetime of getting shot at for opening doors unexpectedly or setting off his parents' - Or anyone else's, - security systems.

"Good morning, Neal," Elle greets, kissing him on the forehead. He does his best not to blush, but is pretty sure he fails. "Have some breakfast."

He didn't sleep over last night. He's been trying to better balance the time he spends at June's house and the Burkes' place. - He shouldn't neglect one of his strongest Ties, just because he has a shiny, new one. - But, now, June needs him here. He tells the couple about what she'd told him in the park this morning. About her granddaughter, Samantha, struggling with kidney disease. About how she was taken off the donor's list, but someone has offered to get her back on it... Providing June's willing to make a 'charitable donation'.

(When Mozzie finds out, he's gonna have kittens.)

Luckily, Peter's on board with taking on the case. Danny was worried he'd have to go behind one of his Ties' backs to help another.

(Maybe he can get June and Elizabeth to be friends. After all, Mozzie's already friends with both of them, and he can be kind of... Hard to get along with at times. He can't say that about either of the females in his Family.)

When Peter asks Danny to get more details from June, he has Moz set up a meeting with the charity's representative, Melissa Calloway. Mozzie acts as June's financial advisor, - A truly entertaining situation, though poor June seems far too mortified to enjoy it like Danny does, - while Danny quickly sneaks outside and phases into her car to get to her briefcase.

He then sits patiently through Mozzie's lecture on why that last part was a bad idea, - The exact reason Danny hadn't mentioned what he was doing beforehand, but June's Family, - before telling his Brother what he'd found.

Once they loop Peter in on the list of names they'd found, - Without too many details on how they'd actually gotten the information, - they quickly discover the common denominator: Doctoral Global Initiative.

"Interesting. Using the third world as your own organ bank."

(Don't like that term.)

(Do you think if Mom and Dad ever caught us, they'd have used our 'human' half's regenerating organs to supply organs to hospitals? It seems like their kinda thing. Help poor humans who need organ donors by repeatedly vivisecting their own child in the basement.)

"Niel?"

"Huh?"

"Hey. Look at me."

Danny blinks and finds himself sitting in Peter's office. When had they moved? They were in the hall before.

"You with me, bud?"

"...Yeah. Sorry." He feels like he's gonna throw up.

"Are you sure I don't need to take you to the hospital?" He half-pleads. Danny's pretty sure he's one more episode like this away from being picked up and carried bodily to Peter's car.

"...No... It's..."

(Maybe Mozzie was right. Maybe I did push it a little too far with the phasing this morning. I'm probably around fourteen percent again.)

(Man, I miss running on a full Core.)

(June's granddaughter being named Samantha isn't helping me hold myself back, either.)

"It's doctors," he admits. "I can't stand the thought of 'em. They make my skin crawl and they..."

"Is that why you don't want anyone to know about you being sick? Niel, I won't let anybody hurt you."

(There are so many reasons I don't tell people I'm sick.)

(First one being, we're not actually sick. We're just really, really hungry.)

(But, like, on a metaphysical level.)

(We're metaphysically hungry.)

(Am I, though? I had two moderate Ties and three really strong Ties before and was always running above seventy percent, even using my powers constantly. I could recover from where I am now in a matter of hours after a ghostly wail. Now, I have one bad Tie, three moderate Ties, and one strong Tie, and I can barely stay afloat. I know it can't be on the same level as before, but it shouldn't be this bad, should it? What if there's something wrong with my Core?)

(I wish we could talk to Frostbite. He'd know what's going on.)

(The other Farfrozen don't like us, though.)

"Niel?"

"...I'm okay." Peter doesn't look like he believes him. "Can we talk about it later?"

The agent thinks about it a moment. "...Alright. But, you're not going anywhere near the field. You're in no shape for it."

(But, I can use my powers again. I can help. I can take care of my Family. June's my Family.)

(I'm not helping anyone if I destabilize. I gotta stop going crazy with the powers. I just got them back, I need to keep them charged. What if there's an emergency, like Copenhagen?)

(Forty percent.)

(Yeah. Forty percent. That's a good number. Good for emergencies. That's the goal. Don't use my powers unless absolutely necessary, until we hit forty percent again. Don't let 'em go below twenty again, either.)

Peter picks Danny's hat up off his head, ruffles his hair, then drops the hat back in place. "It's my job to look out for you. So, stop givin' me heart attacks, ya little gremlin."

"Okay," he relents. "But, you guys are gonna need more acting practice."

Peter and Jones go undercover as doctors at the weird, rich people, tennis party that's being hosted for DGI by a man named Powell. Danny waits in the van, half of him irritated that he's too tired to just phase inside the party, while the other half of him is just thankful Lauren's sitting right beside him so his stupid Core can't manipulate him into doing it anyway.

Both halves of him, unfortunately, are feeling very antsy.

(And, I forgot my rubber band ball. Crud.)

Peter and Jones are barely in the door when it seems the entire operation is already dead in the water, because it's invitation only and they don't have one. That is, until Calloway starts flirting with Peter and lets them into the party. That's a good thing. Listening to Peter try to flirt, though...

(He's just as bad as Mozzie. This is painful. Is this how June felt?)

"He seriously hasn't flirted in the twenty-first century?" He asks Cruz. He really, really wishes they had earpieces for this one so he could help, but neither of the men going in have any way to hide them. And, at a party in the bright sunlight, skin-tone ones are too big of a risk. He'll just have to trust that his coaching so far can get them through with their covers in tact.

They're better than they used to be. All of them are. But, the flirting.

It's probably a good thing nobody here is likely carrying a gun except security, so even getting caught probably won't get them shot at. Just kicked out.

"'You look thirsty'?" Cruz and Danny say together, incredulous, meeting each other's eyes with thoughts of blackmail running through both of their brains.

"How did he ever get Elizabeth?" The ghost wonders aloud. He genuinely doesn't know whether to laugh or hide under a table.

"We've been trying to figure it out for years," She grins. "Also, who's the guy ordering cranberry juice at a party?"

"Yeah. That's kinda weird."

Danny's proud of Jones' acting, at least. He does a great job of getting Powell talking. Unfortunately, the topics they start discussing get a little too close to... Well. Not home.

(Not anymore.)

Too close to things he used to hear in the lab.

"See, his remaining kidney is highly sensitized. PRA is through the roof."

He tucks himself in the corner, hoping Lauren won't turn around and notice how tightly he's clutching his arms around himself, trying to ignore the sound of his mother's voice in his head, talking about her and dad's latest...

He swallows hard.

Thankfully, it had just been a blob ghost. It was still vicious and cruel, - And, Danny'd like to think he would've been brave enough to try to stop them, if he'd known about it before it was already over with, - but it was the ghost equivalent of a lab rat, rather than a person.

But it could've easily been someone like Ember. Or, Box Ghost. Or, Youngblood.

(Or, Danny.)

Point is, the whole thing makes his skin crawl and his stomach twist violently. He feels like the only thing keeping him from throwing up at times is the knot in his chest holding it in.

(Why am I so focused on this stuff today? It's been years. Things are going so much better! Mom and Dad can't even do any of that stuff any more, 'cause they're in prison. Why now?)

(Oh.)

Leave it to Danny to forget his own Death-Week. - Well, the second one. From when Desiree had made him human again and he'd been forced to relive the whole... Thing. - The actual Day would be worse, but the days surrounding it would be full of high-strung emotions and even more difficulty focusing than usual.

(I still don't know if I actually re-died that time or if re-experiencing the incident just... Re-traumatized me?)

(We need to find an excuse to not go to work tomorrow. Maybe a couple days after that.)

(He already thinks I'm sick. It should be easy.)

(He'll take us to the hospital if we're not careful.)

(We'll talk to Mozzie. We have somebody on our side who knows again.)

"You doin' alright, pygmy goat?"

Danny blinks. Lauren's looking at him with thinly-veiled concern. "...I can't listen to doctor-talk," he admits.

"Ah," she replies, expression understanding. "Needles are the worst. I wondered why you didn't complain about the nickname."

"What nickname?"

"You weren't listening?" She's smirking. Teasing him. Whatever it is, he's probably gonna hear a lot about it for the next few days, then.

"Maybe it just wasn't worth listening to," he sniffs.

"Maybe so," her smirk grows wider. It does nothing for the sense of... Not exactly foreboding. It's not that uneasy. More like... Anticipating annoyance.

(Well, there's foreboding in there, too, but it's got nothing to do with nicknames.)

(Inviso-Bill.)

(Shut up. That was worse than James Bonds.)

(Apparently, we still need a publicist. Maybe that girl who booped your nose could do it?)

(Shut UP.)

Regardless, the whole conversation with Lauren does manage to distract him, until Jones' conversation with Powell is over.

After putting up with Neal's ribbing about the chiropractor thing, Peter sits the kid down in his office. If he's really serious about helping June, it's time to get down to business.

(Besides, they need more reasons for Neal to look useful to the higher-ups if they want his deal to stay in effect. Technically speaking, it should already be pretty set, - Unless and until the kid does something stupid, - but nothing about the current situation is normal. Too many people are far too interested in Peter and his little CI.)

Instead of sharing these thoughts, though, he says, "I pulled Powell's travel records."

As he explains the situation, as he sees it, he watches the little CI closely. Neal's been jumpy the last few days, and it's only getting worse. He'd thought it was just anxiety because of the stuff with Fowler and worry about what he would try next, but he'd been virtually unconcerned with any of that stuff before.

(How else would he be able to just calmly eat a bowl of cereal in the ear of whoever was listening in to that bug?)

(Because he's a menace to society, that's how. A lovable menace, - Like Alvin and the Chipmunks, - but still a menace.)

(He's really not, though. He's just a normal kid who's too smart and fidgety and punny for his own good.)

But, even with all of that over for the moment and Mozzie doing routine scans of both of their homes every few days, - As well as Jones, Diana, and Cruz's homes, - the kid just seems to be getting more antsy.

(Is it because Elle and I know he's sick? Even though we don't really know anything? He has to know it won't change our opinion of him. He's still our -)

(He's still a kid.)

(Cruz said the 'doctor talk' was bothering him in the van. He mentioned doctors make his skin crawl this morning, too.)

(Does he think I'm gonna force him to go to the hospital?)

(I almost did, though. If he starts looking much worse, I will.)

And, now, the kid's sitting here, gripping the file in his hands in a way Peter's surprised hasn't made a hole in it yet.

(Oh.)

(He's terrified.)

(His kid is terrified.)

He's good at hiding it. Really good. Peter doesn't know how he let it slip past him for so long. But, in his defense, fear just isn't something Neal Caffrey ever shows, far too busy doing crazy things that he should be afraid of, - Like scaling buildings, - without so much as a twitch, so it hadn't ever occurred to him that maybe the fearlessness was just another mask.

(It should have.)

He stands and closes his office door, then sits on the desk closer to the kid.

"What's got you so shaken up? None of these DGI doctors are going to touch you. Not unless you have a heart attack or something while you're standing next to one of them."

Neal mutters something that sounds terrifyingly similar to, "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Neal."

Neal looks at him, eyes wide and full of indecision and apprehension.

Peter hates that his kid's started looking at him that way.

"What's goin' on. You gotta know I won't let anybody hurt you... You do know that, right?" He adds, just to make sure.

"...Yeah..." He doesn't sound too confident. It breaks Peter's heart. "It's the doctors, Peter," he finally says, with so much agony it has to be the truth. "I wanna help June. I love June. But, I just can't stand the thought of the needles and the scalpels and the -"

On instinct, Peter catches the kid's hands as they start to tremble in fear.

(Neal Caffrey is fearless)

(Then, this must not be Neal Caffrey.)

Peter thinks.

It's normal for kids to be scared of doctors. It's probably even more normal for a kid with some kind of health condition. But, something's niggling at Peter's brain. Something about what Neal - Or, whatever his real name is, - just said.

"...What doctor hurt you?"

The kid's head shoots back up to him so fast it can't be anything but a direct hit.

(And, one he really wasn't expecting.)

"Gimme some credit, shortstop, I've been at this job a long time. Probably longer than you've been alive," He smirks, hoping to get a rise out of the teen and bring back some of his usual fire.

All he sees is icy blue eyes and desolation.

"Doctors are the reason I'm like I am."

Danny can't believe Peter sent him home and told him to take tomorrow off. He wants to help June!

(You're just slowing them down, every time someone says the word 'thermometer' and they have to take fifteen minutes to make sure you're not gonna have a nervous breakdown.)

(Besides, this is what I wanted. We don't need to be around government agents while in the throes of our Death-Day. Staying home with Mozzie is better and smarter.)

Of course, the agent had assured him they'd keep working on things. That they'd figure it out for him and for June and for everyone else on that waiting list. But... It's his Family.

Which, he supposes, is why he's now sitting here, playing cards with June, even though it's almost two in the morning.

She's not upset that he's not taking a more active part in the case.

(She should be.)

"Niel, darling," She begins finally, after the eighth time he spaces out for more than a full minute. "I want to thank you."

"Thank me?" He furrows his brows. "For what?"

"For getting someone to help Samantha." She meets his eyes seriously. "Dear, I never intended for you to be the one to fix the problem. I just knew your agent friend -"

(Family. You both are.)

"- was trustworthy. I'm grateful you got the information to someone who both can and will do something about it. So, please, stop fretting over not being there for the case." She covers his hand with her own. "We can all see how much it upsets you. The doctors. I don't know if what you have is anything like Samantha, -"

Danny sits up straighter.

(She knows.)

"...But, considering that reaction, I don't believe it is. After all. Sammy's eyes never flash green when she's upset."

Danny suddenly finds himself standing.

"Niel, Darling..." She continues, tone remaining calm and understanding, like it always does. "I've known for a while now. It doesn't change anything. You are always welcome here."

Danny feels his shoulders slump, then he slowly sinks back into his chair, knees suddenly very weak. "You know?

"Well, I'll admit, I'm not sure exactly what it is I know, but I certainly know something." She meets his eyes seriously once more. "Something I'm not sharing with anyone. Yours won't be the only, - Nor the biggest, - secret I take to my grave."

(She's so much like Ida.)

(Of course, she is. She's our Grandma.)

"I suppose it makes sense, in a way," She notes, taking a thoughtful bite of the cookies they're now munching on. "Though, it certainly is a lot to take in." She leans forward and kisses Danny on the forehead. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all that dear. But, I'm eternally grateful it brought you to me," she smiles.

And, he smiles back.

(I've never had a Grandma, before.)

(Mom's mom died before I was born.)

(I don't know anything about Dad's mom.)

(I wonder if either of them was like June or Ida.)

"And, to Mozzie. And, to Peter and Elizabeth. Not sure how I feel about this Kate girl, if I'm being honest."

Danny chokes on a laugh that's half tears. "You and me both. I'm so mad at her, but my Core just says, 'Family!'" He waves his arms around like the Box Ghost for emphasis. At times, his Core's cries of hunger really do sound like Boxy. "It's why I have to stay away from her. If her Tie gets any stronger, she'll be able to twist me around, again."

"Then, we simply won't let that happen," June states, as though it's as easy as picking a pocket. "Now, it's nearly six in the morning. Let's find some nice blankets and put on a movie. I'm not averse to falling asleep on the couch if something good is playing, and I'm not about to leave you alone today."

"What'm I gonna do, Elle?" Peter asks, rolling over to gaze into his loving wife's eyes. "I feel like such a horrible person to just... Leave it alone. But, I also don't wanna break Neal's trust by making him go to the hospital."

"Well," She begins, "Neal's legally considered an adult, right?"

"To my eternal irritation and the belief of literally no one outside possibly that one courtroom, yeah."

"Then, if you do take him to a doctor, he can refuse treatment, can't he? And, if he's this scared, he will. So, the only thing it would accomplish is destroying his trust."

"...Yeah. I guess you're right. I just feel so helpless! What if what we're doing is just watching him deteriorate and something can be done about it?"

She places a hand over his. "And, what if nothing can be done about it and all it'll do is make him more miserable than he already is? Honey, Neal's a smart kid. If he's this scared, there must be a real reason. It's not likely to just be a childish phobia."

"...Maybe I should look into it... But, where would I even start? Whatever happened must've happened before he changed his name, and I've got genuinely no clue what his real name is. The closest records I've found to a match are for Danny Brooks - AKA Neal Bennett, - and he's actually thirty-two. Currently living in Paris and suspected of a string of forgeries and thefts way too similar to Neal's."

"They both steal and forge the same types of things, and they're both named Neal?"

"Yeah. What a coincidence, huh? I'd almost suspect one o' Mozzie's conspiracy theories." He chuckles. "Maybe our Neal's this other Neal's clone."

"Secret son, maybe?" She jokes. "That would explain why they're so similar."

"Nah, they only sound like they look alike on paper. Thin build, dark hair, light blue eyes. But, when you actually see pictures of Bennett, it's clear they're unrelated. Still weird though." He sighs suddenly. "So, I should just... Go along with him? I can't really do anything, can I?"

"Well, until Neal's ready for you to do something, it doesn't sound like it. But, you gave him the day off, right? Maybe a little rest will help."

"Yeah," he agrees. "I'll just try to keep him out of the action. I was already doing that, but I'll push back harder when someone else tries to get him involved more."

"But, honey, won't that risk his position at the Bureau? If they don't think he's useful enough?"

"...I really can't do anything, can I?"

"You can be a good friend to him. Just not in an official capacity, I expect." She kisses him. "We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Not gonna be easy."

"When is it ever with Neal?" She half-chuckles, then, "...I thought Neal's eyes were teal."

"No, they're definitely blue."

Chapter Text

Danny is absolutely elated at having a new, Titled Family member. His Core feels better. He feels better.

Then, Mozzie tells him.

The charity took back their offer. They won't give Samantha a kidney, even if June gives them the money. Not only that, they know they're being investigated.

Danny needs to move.

He needs to do something.

He needs to help his Family.

"And, just where do you boys think you're going?"

Danny freezes.

"Oh, thank goodness," Mozzie breathes, and Danny suddenly notices the vice grip his Brother has on his arm. "I thought I was gonna have to duct tape him to the couch. And, I wasn't even sure that would work."

Danny's Grandma is standing in the doorway, looking at them with a mix of amusement and disapproval. "You two weren't about to do something devious without me, were you?"

"No," They answer together. Danny, because they aren't about to do anything devious. They're about to do something for Family. But, Mozzie sounds more like he's denying having any part in it.

Which is odd.

"We're not about to do anything," his Brother continues. "We're about to sit down and watch a movie and leave things to Peter, like you said you would," he sends Danny a pointed look.

"Moz, I have to -"

"Danny, darling," June is right in front of him now, one hand on his shoulder and the other idly fixing his hair. "I appreciate how much you want to help Samantha, but endangering one Grandchild to save another isn't going to help."

Something inside of him relaxes and squirms in equal measure. He hasn't even told June she's his Grandma yet, just that she's Family. That means she thinks of him as a Grandson, just as much as he thinks of her as a Grandma, without his ghostliness or health influencing those feelings. It might be the nicest he's felt since the first time Tucker called him 'Bro' after he got his powers.

"And, spooking the people behind this by jumping in without thinking isn't going to help, either," she continues.

Mozzie coughs behind him. "It, uh, might already be too late for that."

She looks at him seriously. "...Perhaps you should fill me in."

It's not a suggestion.

Mozzie has never been so stressed in his entire life. If this is what Danny's like with a weakened Core, he doesn't know what he'll do when his little Brother's stronger again. He could barely hold the twig of a teen back earlier! Mozzie may not be a bodybuilder or even a two-gallon-bucket-lifter, but how is Danny this strong!?

He's so grateful for June. It seems a Brother can't tell you what to do, but a Grandma's word is law.

He was surprised to find out the woman was not only in the loop, but had already earned herself a Title. He'd be hurt that she did it so much faster than he did, but Danny already explained that his weakened Core and grief over his old Family had likely slowed down the growth of his Ties for a while.

(At least, until he'd been trapped in prison. Then, it had begun to panic and take on anyone as a Tie that showed the kid any kindness.)

(Mozzie still feels both furious and ashamed about that.)

Either way, just because Danny's apparently stuck in the house thanks to some form of ghostly grounding - One Mozzie hasn't quite figured out and doesn't really want to bring up, out of fear of breaking whatever spell it's cast on his Brother, - doesn't mean the little guy's happy about it.

(I'm beginning to understand the Suit and his team's jokes about gremlins.)

His little Brother is pacing around like a caged tiger, and nothing either of the adults suggest can keep his attention for more than a few minutes. In fact, most of them seem to make things worse.

This isn't working. Danny needs to feel like he's doing something for his Family, but there's nothing left for them to do. They've already told Peter about the people in the clinic panicking and getting rid of evidence. - The Suit hadn't seemed too concerned, so Mozzie figures he's got a plan, but Danny doesn't seem to have noticed. - There's no more spying to be done. All they'll likely learn is more of the same. All they'll likely accomplish is making these people more suspicious and possibly getting themselves hurt or ruining what's left of the operation.

(What can help? This probably all has something to do with Danny letting his Core get fed, then sending it right back into starvation mode. Maybe if we feed his Core it'll help? What'll feed it well? What's the ghostly, metaphysical equivalent of a hearty meal with chocolate cake for dessert?)

("No, I do not steal people's emotions.")

("It's like how your brain gives you a hit of dopamine when you see or do something you like. Only, for ghosts, when we see or do something that's related to our Obsession, our Cores create ectoplasm instead. My Core sees my Family treating me like family should and I get fed.")

("Family treating me like family should".)

(Mozzie wants to strangle both of Danny's parents. How could they see this kid and not treat him like family?)

(Anger later. Helping Danny now.)

(We just need to treat him like family.)

(What do normal brothers do together?)

"Let's make a club," He suddenly announces to the room at large. Maybe a little too loudly. At Danny and June's odd looks, he adds, "Two clubs, actually."

"Really, Moz? That's what you're thinking about right now?" The kid asks, folding his arms.

The elder male sends June a pointed look, imploring her to play along until he can explain. "I think it's a wonderful idea," she says, catching on. "What kind of clubs did you have in mind, Mozzie?"

Now, there's a question. What do teenaged boys, and Danny specifically, consider fun? Fun that isn't dangerous, at least.

('Girls,' says his brain.)

('Space,' says his heart.)

('Annoying people,' says the third voice he's choosing to interpret as his ghostly Tie trying to be helpful.)

He shrugs, nonchalant. "The kind that'll mess with Peter."

And, now, he's got the kid's attention.

(He's not sure how he feels about the almost predatory, green flash in his little Brother's eyes, though.)

Danny understands what Mozzie and June are trying to do. A part of him appreciates it, even. They're his Family and they're trying to protect him.

Which just makes him want to help even more.

"If you think I'm just gonna let you go in there alone, -" Danny jumps about a foot into the air in surprise. "- you're sorely mistaken, little Brother."

"Mozzie," he breathes, clutching at his chest. All he feels is the fake heartbeat that replaced his real one more than seven years ago.

(He knows it's fake, 'cause he can turn it on and off at will now that he knows he's dead.)

"What's the plan?" his Brother asks. After a moment of staring, he demands, "Oh, so not only did you run out the second you though June and I were asleep, but you were about to go in there without a plan?"

"I... I gotta help, Moz."

His Brother sighs. "What's your Core situation." When Danny opens his mouth, he adds, "And, don't lie to me. I'll know."

He furrows his brows in annoyance, but considers it. "About seventeen percent."

"Then, we're doing this the old-fashioned way."

"They're already closed for the night," Danny argues. "We can't exactly con our way in when they won't open the doors."

"Conning may be our go-to, Mon frère, but it's not the only way. C'mon. We need supplies."

An hour later, they're both dressed in black and standing on the roof of the building.

"Where's all that unbelievable strength from earlier?" Mozzie grumbles, as they struggle to open the window of a room that seems to be mainly used for storage. The clinic might be closed for the night, but there are still people working inside. They need to be quiet.

"That's ghostly strength," Danny grumbles back. "You told me not to use my powers."

And, the only thing making sure he doesn't blatantly disobey that order is the fact Mozzie's coming with him. If they get inside and he needs to protect his Brother, he's gonna need as much energy as he can spare. He supposes the fear of Mozzie getting hurt in all this is what's finally making him see reason.

Not quite enough to turn back and go home, but it's close.

(Don't think about what kind of people and things are actually in there. You'll definitely lose your nerve.)

(Think like Tucker. It's a modeling agency. They're all just models. Like Brigette and Claire. They were nice.)

"How considerate of you two to come here as moral support."

Danny jumps out of his skin for the second time, but, this time, Mozzie's right there with him.

They look up to find Peter standing behind them, apparently having climbed the fire escape around the back, just like they had.

"That is what you're doing. Isn't it?"

"Uh," They drone together.

"Because, wanting to watch the investigation is one thing, but breaking into a building is a completely different one."

"Oh. Yeah. Watching the investigation," Mozzie nervously responds. "That's exactly what we were doing."

"So, what're you doing here?" Danny adds.

Peter pulls something out of his pocket. "Warrant went through. Considering our initial request is likely to have caused a bit of panic and some things might get lost in the shuffle, we've been authorized to search the place immediately." He steps closer. "C'mon. We might not be actors extraordinaire, but we know what stirs guys like these up. You think we didn't know our request for their files would make them panic?"

Oh. This had been the plan all along?

Danny wishes he'd know that a few hours ago.

(Wait, didn't Mozzie say something about it earlier? I can't remember.)

"Yep. Makes sense. And, that's exactly why we came to show support for our guys in suits," his Brother pipes in, still unsettled. "And, to tell you where they hide whatever they have in those trashcans." Then, his expression softens, hand finding Danny's shoulder. "And, in case someone decided to do something reckless. D- Neal just couldn't handle sitting around when someone he cares about could be in danger."

And, wow, Danny must've been acting crazier than he'd thought, if he's shaken Mozzie up badly enough he almost used his real name in front of an FBI agent.

"Well, as touched as I am, I can assure you we're not in any danger here." He looks straight into Danny's eyes. "Thought I told you to take the night off."

Danny glances over the side of the building, where Diana and Cruz are each pulling out a large trash can full of files. Jones is saying something into a walkie-talkie.

He looks back at Peter.

"You're not gonna let 'em hurt anybody else?" He asks, suddenly very, very tired, now that all that frantic energy is gone.

It's Peter's turn to look soft. "No. We're not gonna let them hurt anybody else."

Danny's not sure when he moves, but the next thing he hears is Peter's soft, 'oof,' as he gets hit full-force in the chest with a hug.

"Thanks, Peter."

The man huffs a laugh and ruffles his hair. "Hey," he says, then pauses until Danny looks up at him. "It's what I do." He smirks. "Now, get home. It's cold out, and I'm willing to bet you're not wearing thermal underwear under that interesting getup."

Danny splutters through the blush creeping up his cheeks as his Brother snickers behind him.

"And, you," Peter points to Mozzie.

"Not my fault, Suit," the older conman raises his hands innocently. "You think he's a gremlin, now, but you have no idea. I couldn't've stopped him from coming if I tried. And, believe me. I did."

"Well, try to get him home before midnight, would you?" The agent smirks, ruffling Danny's hair once more, before nudging him towards the fire escape. "If Cinderella's carriage turned into a pumpkin at midnight, I don't wanna know what two suspicious people on the roof turn into."

"Monkeys," both Brothers reply without thinking, then look at each other and laugh.

"Do I wanna know?" Peter asks warily.

"Nothing," They say in unison, far too quickly. Oh, well. Any evidence of that incident at the Bronx zoo is long gone and it was an accident anyhow. Mostly.

(Still glad they stole Mozzie's Toupee. That thing was horrible.)

"C'mon, shrimp," Mozzie says, heading for the ladder. "You've caused enough mayhem for one night."

Danny puts a hand to his chest and makes an affronted noise. "Who are you and what've you done with my Brother?"

Peter listens to the pair of con-artists bicker playfully as he follows them down the ladder, then watches as they head off in the direction of June's house.

He's not happy Neal came here.

(He'd thought the kid was starting to trust him more.)

He's not happy Mozzie supported it.

(Did he, though? He seemed awfully relieved when Peter showed up.)

He is glad they didn't actually get to do anything before Peter arrived.

(He's not sure what he would've done. What he would've had to do, with so many other agents around.)

But, all in all, the night wasn't so bad. With the information they've got, maybe they can finally close this case. Maybe the whole thing will prove to the kid that their 'bad acting skills' don't mean they don't know what they're doing.

(He wonders if Mozzie is really Neal's brother, or if it's some kind of honorary title. It almost has to be the latter. They look nothing alike and the older of the pair looks like he could be the kid's father.)

(Is he?)

(No, that's crazy. I sound like Mozzie.)

"What about Neal and Haversham?" Diana asks, once Peter rejoins her in the car, after they've finished things up.

Peter sighs. "Well, they didn't do anything illegal, as far as I can tell... Except possibly loitering or trespassing. I don't know exactly what they were planning to do. They said they wanted to watch to see where the clinic was going to hide all the files they were trying to get rid of. I don't have any proof otherwise. And, they left the premises when told."

She hums and nods. "Y'know, for an FBI agent, you're a pretty soft guy."

He laughs, knowing she means it as a compliment. Probably. "Yeah, well. Guess I'm just special, like that."

"I can't believe he even came here, with how terrified he is of doctors."

("You're not gonna let 'em hurt anybody else?")

"Yeah... I think that fear's the point."

She furrows her brows. "What do you mean?"

He thinks a moment. "Neal told me yesterday that doctors are the reason he's like he is."

"You think a doctor made him sick somehow?"

Peter shrugs. "It wouldn't be the first time. People can have all the good intentions in the world, but a lot of medicine is still experimental. For it to get approved, they have to use it on someone. Generally, the people willing to be the test dummies are the ones desperate enough they don't have any other choice."

"Is it that bad?" She asks, concerned. "He looks fine to me."

Peter bites back his incredulity to deal with later. "Yeah," He replies. "From what little I know, I think it's pretty bad." He looks over at her. "Keep an eye on him at work for me. If he starts to act like he feels bad -"

"You'll be the first to know."

"And, don't go spreading it around, either. If someone like Fowler ever got wind of it..."

"What good is having 'agent' in your title if you can't keep a secret?" She smirks, "Besides, we can't let anything happen to our little, office gremlin."

It's not enough. Tons of files on the clinic and the charity, but nothing that links back to Powell and the money he's been making off donors' organs.

Normally, Neal's their peek into the criminal psyche that helps them outsmart guys like this, but he's next to useless on anything involving doctors or medical practices. Just this morning, someone had opened a file with a picture of a syringe in it and, the next thing they knew, a ceiling tile was gone and so was Neal.

(Peter still doesn't know how he did it.)

(Some of the people in the office have taken to calling him 'Jumping Bean'.)

(Peter's trying not to laugh at how offended the little guy is about it.)

"Neal, maybe you should just go home," he says, unsure whether to be worried or amused at the kid doing what sounds like deep breathing exercises from where he's currently tucked behind the office door. Facing the corner, so he won't see anything.

"No! I wanna help June! I can do it!" Peter feels guilty for even considering being amused when the con turns around and he can see the genuine, exhausted horror in his expression.

(If stress does make him worse, this has got to be really bad for him.)

"Well, then, stop hiding and let's get this figured out," Diana demands.

It seems cold, but it also seems to be the push Neal needs. He's still skittish. He still clutches his rubber band ball too tightly and snaps himself with it by accident a few times and breaks a few of the bands. He's still too pale and shaky. And, he still refuses to verbally acknowledge what Powell's actually doing or any specifics on the man's illness. But, he manages to help them form a plan of action.

"So, if we can trace some of Powell's money from... If we can trace it back to him, it's enough, right?" Danny asks, trying to hide the tremor in his voice.

"That's right," Peter confirms. "Not gonna be easy, now that's he's on high alert. We need to work fast on this."

"Okay." Danny takes another deep breath and forces his mind to look at things from another angle.

(Don't think about human medicine. Think about ghosts.)

(Powell's built an entire empire around his need for a kidney. That's his Obsession.)

Danny knows exactly how he'd react if his Obsession was threatened. He'd react like he did last night. By doing something stupid that probably wouldn't have actually helped, but it was still doing something instead of just sitting around and waiting for the end.

(But, Powell's a human.)

He pushes that thought away. "If he thinks his kidney's going, he'll panic. If we can make him think he needs a new one, and fast, he'll give anything for it."

They look into the symptoms of kidney failure.

Danny breaks the handle off his coffee mug. Peter makes him drink from paper or plastic for the rest of the case. He also has Diana on guard duty by the coffee machine. Danny's only allowed hot chocolate for now, because he's "bad enough, without adding caffeine jitters into the mix".

They find ways to fake a few of the symptoms over the next few days. Peter seems to enjoy messing with the man. All the agents do, really. Danny probably would, too, if he weren't so upset by the subject matter.

Thankfully, though, his emotions settle down the further away from his Death-Day they get and, by the time they go to arrest the man, he's actually calm enough to look at him without throwing up.

Then, he remembers exactly what this guy does for a living and the possibility that not all his donors were actually voluntary, and he slips around the corner while the others make the arrest.

Cruz finds him a few minutes later and sits with him until Powell's being driven away, then walks him back to the car and takes him home on Peter's orders.

(He still refuses to feel guilty for making Powell think he's dying and playing on a fear so similar to his own. Powell started this whole thing, after all, and has no problem extorting ailing people for their lives.)

Everything works out alright in the end. Samantha gets put back on the donors list in her original spot. Danny is closer to his Ties - Other than Kate, - than he's been in far too long. And, thanks to Peter, he and Mozzie didn't even have to do anything.

(Didn't even get in trouble.)

(We probably should've.)

(I need to be more careful. If we'd gotten inside and then got caught, it would've been bad for me, and it would've been bad for Mozzie, and it would've been bad for Peter.)

("I appreciate how much you want to help Samantha, but endangering one Grandchild to save another isn't going to help.")

(June's right. Panicking about one Tie doesn't mean I should endanger the others and I can't ever go back to prison.)

(Not until we've built up more energy, at least.)

(I'm at about eighteen percent now, since I didn't waste what I had the other night.)

(Since Mozzie was looking out for us.)

(Since June was trying to protect us.)

(Since Peter did protect us.)

(Family. It feels so nice.)

"Oh, I got word Alex is back in town," Mozzie says, as casually as he can. He's not sure he should actually tell Danny about it. He likes Alex and knows just how helpful having her on their side would be the next time they need to get rid of something fast. But...

Mozzie's a big Brother, now. He might love running cons with Danny more than almost anything, but he's not about to risk the kid getting sent back to prison in his current condition. Maybe they can get back to normal someday, once he's healed some more, but not yet. Not until he knows - beyond a shadow of a doubt, - that the kid's gonna be okay if everything goes south.

(And, if looking out for my favorite, little minion means getting out of the game, I'll do it.)

(Is he really the minion, though? I don't think I'd quit for anybody else, but I'd do it for Danny in a heartbeat.)

(If he needs me to. That's still uncertain. For the moment, it's more like a health retreat, just for Danny's health instead of mine.)

But, despite all his misgivings, Mozzie knows the amount of trust his Brother puts in him and doesn't want to lose any of it by not telling him about their former-partner's return.

Danny's quiet for a moment. "...Think she'll ever actually speak to me again, once she finds out I'm working with the feds?"

"...Good question." Alex is almost as paranoid as Mozzie is at times.

There's a knock at the door.

"That's probably Peter and Elizabeth," Danny notes from where he's sitting upside down on the couch. He sets his DS on the cushion beside himself, kicks his legs forward to backflip upright, and heads for the door.

"Oh, are the Suits staying for dinner?"

"Dinner and the next few days," his Brother replies easily. "They're having their wiring system updated, -"

"Ah, so they took my advice," Mozzie interrupts, pleased.

"Hey, Peter," Danny says, opening the door. "Where's Elle?"

"Aw, her sister told her to use the opportunity to come visit and to bring Satchmo, so he could play in their yard. She wanted me to come too, but I can't drive that far to and from work everyday. So, it's just gonna be me." He sets his bags down inside the door. "Haversham," He nods to Mozzie. "Any ideas on our case?"

Danny and Mozzie show Peter the scrabble board where they've been working on the code found in Pierce's bag. - She'd been seen going into a house with a married man, then shot him and pretended it had been a break-in. She'd escaped when they'd taken her to the hospital for the injuries the supposed intruder had inflicted. - The three of them play around with it for a little while, and June joins in at one point, but they never really get anywhere.

Mozzie goes home. June goes to bed. Peter watches the game.

Danny's never really been interested in sports, but he tolerates the background noise and enjoys Peter's excited shouting and mood-swinging while he works on painting a copy of Adrian Chesterman's "Dolphin Universe". It's a digital work, but Danny loves the idea of it and tries to bring a more 'traditional painting' feel to it.

(He also fixes the layout of the stars and planets, because it's always bugged him. He plans to hang this by his bed and it would irritate him to no end to see the original's convoluted space scenery all the time.)

"Cool chess board," Peter notes suddenly. "Who ya playin'?"

"I'm not. Mozzie and I use the pieces to map out theories for cases sometimes. I don't actually know how to play, so I didn't bother straightening 'em up last time."

"Ah," the older man replies. "Never really been my thing, either," he admits. He turns to Danny. "I could still teach you, if you wanna learn," he offers.

"No thanks," Danny says, scrunching his nose up in a way that he's heard people call 'adorable' on several occasions. He keeps telling himself he's gonna stop doing it, but never remembers in time to stop himself. "Reminds me too much of my godfather."

Peter makes a noise that sounds both interested and like he's anticipating not liking whatever he's about to hear. "I take it you don't get along well with this godfather?" He asks, and Danny tries not to feel like he's being investigated.

(It's just Peter. It's not like it's Hughes or Fowler.)

"You could say that."

"And, he's just your legal godfather, and not the criminal kind, right?" He adds, and Danny kinda loves the fact Peter feels the need to clarify.

"Oh, he's definitely a criminal, but, as far as I'm aware, not that kind. Not last time I saw him, at least."

"When's the last time you saw him?"

"A few days before I left home."

"And, I suppose you're not gonna tell me his name."

Danny shrugs, fiddling with his paintbrush in thought. "I have no problem with you arresting him, if that's what you mean. But, he's finally leaving me alone. I don't wanna rock the boat."

(Plus, if you knew Vlad Masters was my godfather, you'd know exactly who I was before. I've lucked out so far with nobody figuring it out and I'll never understand how, but this would really be pushing it.)

Peter furrows his brow. Danny knows that look. Part of him appreciates it, but the other part is genuinely worried he'll go digging and cause trouble for him.

The day the trials ended and Vlad was sentenced, the older halfa - Apparently, the only real halfa, - had disappeared off the face of the earth. Danny's been keeping his eyes peeled for news of anyone similar ever since, just in case he tried to overshadow someone and start over.

(Probably should update Mozzie that Vlad's a ghost, now that he's in 'The Club'.)

They've heard whispers of a few things that sound like Vlad's MO, - With Danny's Brother under the assumption that he was just abusive and manipulative, not super-powered, - but nothing concrete. The idea of the man still sets the young ghost's teeth on edge, though.

"Did he hurt you?" Peter asks, pulling Danny from his thoughts.

He looks worried.

(Peter always looks worried lately.)

"Yeah," he admits, going for nonchalant. No need to worry Peter any more. "He had this crazy, creepy crush on my mom. Didn't even try to hide it, but dad was always too naive to notice. I openly disapproved. 'Uncy dearest' thought beating me up would make me see things his way. Got even more mad when it had the opposite effect."

"You sure you don't wanna give me a name?" The agent presses, concern etched into his features. Danny's ears pick up the sound of the remote creaking in the agent's hand.

(There's no telling how young he thinks I must've been the last time it happened.)

(Does it matter? Chronology be darned, beating up fourteen-year-olds is bad, too.)

"Wouldn't help. He got caught, then disappeared. Nobody's seen him since."

"Give us some credit. It only took us three months to catch you."

He smirks. "Yeah, but I sure gave you a run for your money those three months."

"Yeah, you did," he smiles, but it's still strained. "If you ever change your mind, I'm happy to try and find this guy."

"Okay. Thanks Peter..."

He ruffles Danny's hair. "Don't mention it, shortstop."

"...Actually, you might not wanna mention it, either. Mozzie gets really intense anytime I talk about my life before I came to New York."

"Intense how?"

(Well, this should be fun.)

"He gets really, really drunk and then spends a few hours swapping between frantically planning, ranting about child abuse, and begging me to let him do something about it and saying, 'I just wanna talk to 'em,' very unconvincingly. Sometimes the Russian mafia is mentioned."

"Why does Mozzie know anyone in the - You know what? I'm just gonna pretend I didn't hear that last part. Never say that in front of anyone else."

Chapter Text

Danny wakes with a pounding heart in his chest and glowing, red eyes flashing in his mind's eye. (His physical eyes are probably flashing green, judging by the odd hue on his comforter.)

He isn't worried about Vlad. Not really. The man disappeared years ago and isn't likely to resurface anytime soon...

Unless he's overshadowing someone, like in Danny's nightmare dream.

It would be just like Vlad to get caught for stealing his fortune, escape using his powers, then overshadow someone else to rebuild said fortune in the exact same way.

...Or, to overshadow someone in the government or law enforcement, to make sure none of their investigations got anywhere...

(What if Vlad's overshadowing Fowler!?)

(No. No, Vlad's far too posh.)

Much as Danny hates to admit it, the Frootloop has so much more swagger than the OPR agent. He must not be fully awake yet.

He glances over to Peter on the couch. Still asleep. Snoring, actually. It's nice having him around. He misses Elizabeth. And, Satchmo, even if he's not a Tie.

He rolls back over and tries to push the images of Vlad overthrowing the FBI from his mind.

It takes some time, but they finally figure out that the code is a hit list. The man Pierce killed yesterday is the fourth one.

The first name on Pierce's list belongs to an oil guy from Texas. The second is some dude from Los Angeles. Both of them married and suspiciously quiet ever since being shown the woman's picture. The third guy is a real estate man from Jersey, who claims he was shot in a hunting accident two months ago. Only, the gun he was shot with isn't really used for hunting. He claims he's never met Pierce.

They find a set of prints in the fourth guy's - their dead body's - home that doesn't belong to him or his wife. They scour the place for more of them and discover Pierce is apparently looking for something in all these men's houses. Something specific, judging by all the valuables she didn't bother with.

The last guy on their list is Daniel Picah, who... Well...

"Hey, FBI guys," Picah greets chipperly, coming down the stairs to meet them as they enter his home. "How's it goin'?"

"I'm agent Peter Burke. This is Niel Caffrey," Peter introduces.

"Oh, is he your son?" He asks, seeming absolutely thrilled.

"He's my CI, actually," Peter says, but ruffles Danny's hair anyways.

"CI? What's That?"

"Criminal informant," Danny fixes his hat as he replies, already sensing what kind of guy Picah is. "Peter caught me forging bonds, now I help the FBI catch other bad guys."

"You?" He asks, tone disbelieving. "But -"

"We know," Peter smirks. "That's why we decided this was the better way to handle the situation. Let him help people instead of rotting away somewhere."

(If only they could'a come to that conclusion two years earlier.)

"So, you were one of the bad guys and changed?" He asks, eyes full of equal parts wonder and suspicion.

"Yep. Turned my life around," Danny replies and does that thing with his hat, just for the pun. And, also to see Peter roll his eyes.

"That's great, man! Congratulations!" He leans towards Peter. "Has he ever killed anybody?"

"Just my sanity."

"Okay, then." And, just like that, he's reassured. "Hey, how'd you do that awesome hat trick?"

"Mr. Picah," Peter begins, clearly hoping to get the man back on track, as Picah grabs one of his own hats and starts practicing in the mirror with Danny.

"Hey, we're friends. Call me Dan." He turns to Danny. "Is that what Niel's short for?"

(Well, color me surprised.)

"Yeah, actually," Danny replies, floored. Then, he smiles.

He's friendly. He's open. He does things that would drive Vlad out of his frame, like using ugly, expensive vases as hat racks. He seems lonely. Maybe as lonely as Danny. And, he even got Danny's name right.

Danny likes this guy.

"Nobody's ever guessed that before. Most people have a hard enough time spelling Niel normally, without throwing in that it's short for Daniel." He jabs a thumb at his handler. "Even Peter gets it wrong."

"Man, that's gotta be really annoying," Dan replies, as Peter stands there in deafening silence. "That's why I go with Dan. Simple, straightforward, nobody ever has trouble spelling it, as long as they finished first grade." He turns to Peter. "You really didn't know how to spell your CI's name?"

Peter, whose mouth has been hanging open this whole time, closes it with a click, before replying, "He doesn't talk about himself much." That look makes Danny think they'll be talking about exactly the types of things he usually avoids talking about, whether he wants to or not, after they leave.

Oh, well. Danny didn't technically do anything wrong. - Or, rather, what he actually did is better than what the FBI likely thought he'd done. - He gave them a fake last name, but his first name was a real nickname for his real birth name.

(Not the nickname we prefer to go by, but still.)

They talk to Dan a while longer, trying to figure out what he has that Pierce might be after. Danny genuinely enjoys talking to him, but Peter seems ready to leave. Danny's not sure if it's because of the mild bombshell of his actual first name coming to light or just because Picah annoys him.

(Probably both. Peter's prickly sometimes.)

(Like a cactus in the desert, metaphorically speaking. Especially with how strong his Tie's becoming and how desperate we were for our Obsession before we got our deal. Like how some people get water from cacti.)

(Would Peter be a saguaro cactus or an Indian fig cactus?)

(Duh! He's obviously a prickly pear. We just went over this. He's prickly.)

(Thank you, Sam, for the random lessons on plant-life.)

Even after Dan gives them a tour of all four floors of his eclectic collection, they still aren't sure what Pierce could be after. Danny knows exactly what Peter's after, though.

"So. Daniel, huh?"

"Yeah..." Danny replies slowly, not sure where the man's going to start with this.

"Was that an actual name or another alias?"

"It's my actual name. Not my fault none of the Harvard grads - Or, literally any coffee shop in this city - can spell."

"...So, do you still want me to call you Neal, or -"

"Stop spelling it with an 'A' in your head."

Peter splutters out a laugh. "You got me pinned."

"Yeah, you can just keep calling me Niel."

They drive in silence for a few minutes, before Peter says, "I understand how much trust it took to tell me that," He says sincerely. "Thank you. Though, if I'm honest, I'm not sure if you did it to show that you trust me or just to see the look on my face."

"A little of both," Danny replies, but his smile feels softer than usual.

Peter looks over at his fidgety CI as they get closer to the office. He'd just been getting used to the kid being his calm and confident self again after their last major case, and he's seemed mostly fine today, but now something seems to be weighing on him.

"Hey," he says, doing his best to channel both Elizabeth's people skills and her childcare skills. "I can't help, if I don't know what's wrong. You obviously don't have too much of an issue with me knowing your name. - Since you just flat out told me it with no warning whatsoever." The kid huffs a laugh. "- So, what's the problem? C'mon, kid, gimme a clue, here."

"Nothin'... Just worried, I guess."

"About what, bud?"

The kid shrugs in that teenager way that actually means the exact opposite of what a shrug is supposed to mean. "That you're gonna start digging into my name and someone'll find me. I know it's ridiculous, it's just my first name, but some of the people from my old life are legitimately crazy and -" He flails for a moment, having picked up quite a lot of steam, but clearly unsure of what to do with it now.

"Is this about your godfather?" The kid - Daniel. And, he'll have that breakdown later, - looks up at him, eyes guarded.

(But, not as much as they used to be. He's trying to trust you.)

"What if he finds me?" He begins slowly, but quickly picks up his pace. "Nobody'll be able to stop him, Peter. I've seen it. He's still out there and he's worse than any of Mozzie's conspiracies. I know, because I told Mozzie and he said so, and I know he's already trying to find him, but Mozzie's methods of finding people won't cause ripples like yours will. And, -"

"Hey, hey," he says, trying to calm the kid down. "I get it. If I go looking into things, it might alert whoever you're hiding from."

The kid nods. "Yeah... I know I can't really ask you not to look into it, - Because, you're you, - But could you maybe keep it to paper files? It's just... I'm happy, now."

And, if that doesn't break Peter's heart, even as it makes it soar.

The kid's happy to be with them. Had been miserable before that.

(And, it's Peter's fault.)

"I don't want him to know where I am. Not even if it gets him arrested. He'll just escape and come after me. - Because, it won't be an 'if'. It'll be a 'when'. - And, he'll probably kill somebody I care about to get to me, and -"

"Hey," Peter calls again.

(Has the kid always been this anxious? Is it new, or is he just really good at hiding it from people he doesn't trust?)

(Does he just finally trust me enough to show me this side of himself? Is that what this is? Is that what's brought this on so suddenly?)

"I'm not gonna go digging. Alright?"

(Not like I even have anywhere to start from, anyhow. Daniel is a pretty common name and so are godfathers.)

"I wish you would have more faith in us to handle the situation, but, if you're this scared and there's no threat of this guy coming after you right now, - There's no risk of that, is there? -"

The kid shakes his head.

"You're certain about that?"

The kid nods.

"- Then, I'll leave it alone until I can convince you I can handle it, okay?" But, maybe if Diana did a little digging...

"You swear?"

Oh. Maybe the kid's eyes do have a little bit of green in them.

"You won't look into it? And, you won't have someone else look into it for you?"

"I -"

"Please, Peter. I don't wanna go back to my old life. There are people I miss, but they're safe from him now, too. They've moved on with their lives since I left and that's a good thing. And, even if you found him, you wouldn't even have anything to get him on. Except my illustrious word about something that happened years ago. And, the courts have already proven they don't care what happens to me."

He's right. Peter hates that he's right.

"I won't go digging," he assures. "And, I won't have anyone else do it, either."

(For now, at least.)

"But, can I at least have an actual name to call this guy we're not talking about?"

The kid fidgets another moment. Then, his eyes light up.

(Wait. Did they actually light up, or was that just a reflection?)

(That had to be a reflection.)

"...Let's just call him Uncle Frootloop."

Peter snorts in surprise. "'Uncle Frootloop?" He asks incredulously. "That's what you wanna call this guy you're terrified of and I'm still fuming internally about?"

"It suits him. Trust me."

"If you say so." He looks over at the kid. "But, promise me you'll at least consider letting me take care of this guy someday."

"Alright," the kid relaxes minutely. "But, you'll have to fight Mozzie for it. He already called dibs."

"Yeah, so I heard. I'm still pretending I didn't hear the words 'Russian' or 'mafia'."

"...Thanks, Peter."

He knocks the kid's hat off to ruffle his hair.

"Hey!"

"Don't worry about it, shortstop."

"I'm not that short and I'm terrible at baseball."

"It's the thought that counts."

"That's not what that means!"

"Does this mean I'm part of the 'club', now?"

The kid's face goes instantly, pointedly, and completely-unrealistically innocent. "What club?"

"The one I've heard you and Mozzie mention under your breaths, just loud enough that I would hear it and think I wasn't supposed to. Multiple times. Unfortunately for you, I also know you're both better than that. C'mon, I'm not stupid. It's obviously code for something, and you flaunted it in front of me specifically to be annoying. So, what's it mean?"

The kid sighs. "Fine. You're in the 'club'... But' you're still not in The Club."

"You just said I was in the club."

"There are two clubs, Peter."

Oh. Well, that made some of the out-of-context comments make more sense. "What's the other club for."

"For people who know about The Club to know about," the kid grins. "But," he continues, before Peter can protest, "being in the 'club' means you get to see The List."

"The list? What list?" A million possibilities swim through his brain and he nearly rear-ends another car.

The kid braces himself against the dash dramatically. "You can only see The List if you get us home in one piece!"

"What list? How'm I supposed to know if it's worth that much effort, if I don't know what I'm working for?" He asks, just to be contrary.

"You're a fed! Aren't you supposed to endorse following road laws?"

"Traffic is not part of my jurisdiction."

Peter smiles as he stretches out on the couch for the night. Stressful as it is knowing there's someone out there who wants to hurt Neal, -

(Niel.)

- and there's nothing Peter can do about it, they'd had a pretty good afternoon. Shot some hoops together, - Though the kid insisted sports weren't really his thing, - bantered and joked around, were forced to take showers when June noticed how sweaty they were and didn't want them on her furniture, talked to Elizabeth on the phone, then settled down to watch a movie while Neal -

(Niel.)

- played with June's dog in the floor.

Now, if only they could make some progress on their case and Peter could forget anything and everything his brain is conjuring up about Mozzie leading a band of hitmen, things would be great.

Also.

"Put the DS down and go to sleep. We got stuff to do tomorrow. You think I can't see the light shining under your blanket from here?"

"I'm not even sleepy yet!"

"Close your eyes for more than five seconds and I bet that changes."

June gives them an idea at breakfast the next morning. They run by Dan Picah's place and ask him to help them out. The older Dan plops his own hat on his head and they make their way back to their dead guy's house, in the hopes Picah can tell them what he and Grey have in common that Pierce might be after.

Fortunately, it only takes Picah a few minutes to locate the thing his and Grey's collections both include. An antique, jade elephant, one of five, the set of which has been split up and spread out, apparently, between five, different, rich guys. Unfortunately, it's just as they're looking into the two elephants they now have that the Japanese ambassadors show up, claiming rights to the whole set as pieces of history that were stolen from them. Somehow, it'll supposedly cause an international incident and be the FBI's fault if they don't recover the rest of the elephants.

"Why is it an international incident now and wasn't before? And, either way, why would it be our fault?"

"Yeah, I was wondering that myself," Picah agrees, elbowing Danny familiarly, like having the same name is some sort of inside joke.

He's so glad he'd pulled the man aside and told him his real name is a secret and he just trusts Peter with it, before they'd come back. He can absolutely see Picah saying something like, "Us Dan's gotta stick together," or "Look at us! We're the Dan Clan!"

Peter sighs deeply. "International relations are tricky business. I try not to think too much about them if I don't have to," he admits. "Look, we're going after Pierce either way. If we find her, we should find the elephants."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Lauren notes. "We already know who she's going after next."

They all turn to look at Dan. They're gonna put him in potential danger to rescue some old, green knickknacks? He's just a lonesome guy living on his own in New York.

Named Daniel.

If Danny were any hungrier, the man would probably have a Tie already. Thankfully, he's running at about twenty-seven percent, - Part of it having been spent on a prank involving Mozzie in the shower and Bugsy popping in through the wall to say hi, but that was a totally non-frivolous use of his powers that couldn't wait. Seriously. - so he can work on befriending the man properly and see if he earns one.

(We were so mean to Klemper.)

(Klemper is in the Zone. His Core won't ever starve there, it's just a... Metaphysically bland meal. Klemper was never in my position. He's way better off than I am.)

(I still feel kinda bad, though. We should be nicer.)

Guilty as Danny feels about their current plan, - Despite the fact it's not his fault, - it's not long before one of Dan's online dating profiles gets Pierce's attention.

He's so relieved when he finds out they're not actually sending Dan in.

He's less relieved when he finds out they're sending Peter, instead.

His handler puts on one of Danny's hats - Since Dan has now added one to his profile picture, - and, when Pierce approaches him from behind, he reveals himself to be not-actually-Dan-Picah. He tells her he set her up because he wants the elephants. She's impressed he managed to get Dan's so quickly.

Peter handles the interaction beautifully.

But, then, it might've gone so well because there was no acting required. Every word of what Peter said to Pierce was true, just not in the context she assumed it was.

(At least he didn't have to flirt, this time.)

The next day, they catch Pierce red-handed and have the whole set of jade elephants on the office table by lunch. Peter's pretty proud of how well he handled the deal with Pierce.

He feels a lot more confident in the case he's trying to make for turning conmen into acting coaches. Maybe, if he works a little harder at this, - If his team keeps getting better and they prove how useful it can be, - they really can spin things so they never have to send Neal -

(Niel, Peter. Get a hold of yourself. It's two letters.)

- back into the field ever again.

...He'd still like to know what the kid's saying to the Japanese ambassador's group that has them giggling and looking at him like that, though.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Mozzie asks. It's not helping Peter's anxiety in the least.

"I'm sure, Moz," the kid replies. That, on the other hand, does help his anxiety. Ne- Niel is trusting him with this... Whatever it is. "Peter," he begins.

"There's still time to turn back," Mozzie insists. For a moment, Peter isn't sure which of them he's talking to.

"No, there isn't. You made the rules for the club. Peter's at least partially in it now, so he has the right to -"

"Okay," Peter interrupts, but he's smiling. "You two are hamming this up way too much for it to be nearly as bad as I was expecting when we got here."

"See," Niel -

(Good job.)

- says accusingly. "You ruined the magic."

"I ruined nothing. The Suit -"

"Will the two of you please just tell me what's going on?" He laughs, because it's been a stressful week and it does his heart good to see his kid being so playful.

The pair looks at each other and, for an unnerving few seconds, seem to have some sort of silent conversation.

"It's your funeral," Mozzie finally shrugs.

"THAT IS A HORRIBLE JOKE THAT BELONGS SQUARELY IN THE OTHER CLUB!" The kid projects at a very high volume, grin absolutely splitting his face.

Peter has no idea what it's supposed to mean, but is mildly entertained by Haversham choking on his drink. Before he can ask, Niel pulls something out of his pocket, looking him dead in the eye.

"Peter, what I'm about to show you is -"

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT!"

"SHUSH!" Neal -

(Darn it.)

- glares at the balding man, before turning back to Peter. "What I'm about to show you is of the utmost secrecy. Raise your right hand."

"Am I gonna regret coming here?"

"Yes."

"No, but I will."

"Well, that eases my mind."

Peter's still not sure where all this is going. The kid's smiling, though. And, it's not a conniving or scamming kind of smile. It's the one Peter's seen while watching a movie or listening to an impromptu lesson on constellations.

"Just tell me."

"Nuh-uh. You gotta swear."

"Is it illegal?"

"No."

"No, but it should be."

"Mozzie."

Peter huffs another laugh at the bickering and raises his hand, - The wrong one, on purpose, - pulling out all his training from the past few months to put on the same air the kid keeps trying and failing to bring into the room. "I solemnly swear to keep the secrets I am about to learn to myself, whether they be about the pet moose Mozzie has hidden away in his basement, - Wherever that is, - the alien that frequently uses your balcony as a landing pad, or the ghost possessing June's dog."

Mozzie literally falls out of his chair. Peter's not sure if he's actually that drunk or if he just wasn't expecting Peter to play along. Either way, Niel's laughing so hard he quickly joins his friend on the floor, so he figures he did an okay job. Or, maybe, a really bad one.

After a few moments, the kid pulls himself together, wipes his eyes, and stands. "Good, good," he nods, serious tone betrayed by a huge, toothy grin. "All good and noble things, -" A snicker. "- but not what we're here to discuss today."

Mozzie makes a pained noise and covers his face with both hands. Peter doesn't know where his glasses went.

"Do you solemnly swear to uphold the secret of The List." He says, volume increased to drown out the older conman. "To withhold all information gained from and knowledge of The List, on pain of death, undeath, and subsequent redeath?"

Mozzie's face is buried in the rug. He sounds like he's having an aneurysm.

Well, now Peter's just too curious. He supposes he'll have to get into this other club next.

"I do so solemnly swear," he vows, as cheesily as he can manage, even taking Niel's hand and hooking their pinkies on it, to the kid's delight.

"Very well. Then, it is my honor to present you with... The List."

Peter takes the sheet of paper from the kid and looks it over.

"Well," Niel asks, after a moment, grinning brighter than Peter's ever seen before. "Was it worth the trip over here?"

"Yeah," Peter grins back. "Yeah, it was."

(Because it made you this happy.)

The next morning, as they're driving to work, Peter asks, "So, about the list."

"The List, Peter. Capital 'T', capital 'L'."

"How do you know I wasn't capitalizing it in my head?"

"Because, you're you. You're still spelling my name wrong in your head half the time, too."

Peter laughs. "Fair enough. But, seriously, I get why your name is a 'club secret', but why is The List part of all that?"

The kid grins like the gremlin Peter's team knows him as. "'Cause it's funny."

"Okay. Yeah. Good point," he chuckles. "But, the rest of the team'll definitely get a kick out of it, if they ever find out about it."

"Maybe, someday," the kid sniffs haughtily, folding his arms and turning his nose up. "But, even if they found out about The List, they wouldn't be in the club. Knowing it exists doesn't mean you have an invitation." He looks at Peter seriously. "You got invited. You can't tell anyone."

"Hey," he replies easily. "I know how to keep a secret." He meets the kid's eyes.

(They're definitely greener than they used to be. A trick of the light, maybe?)

"And, a promise."

The kid smiles. "Thanks, Peter."

Chapter Text

"If I had to guess," Danny notes one morning to Lauren, after she asks him what he thinks of the odd museum heist she's been looking over, "this guy's probably gonna try to forge a bottle of antique wine." He thinks a moment. "Probably the Franklin bottle."

"What's the Franklin bottle?" She asks.

"Marie Antoinette once gave Benjamin Franklin an expensive bottle of wine. They call it the Franklin bottle. Because it came from Franklin."

"What makes you think this guy's trying to forge that specific bottle?"

He shrugs. "Because of the specific cork and wax they stole. Plus, everyone who's ever had anything to do with the world of forgery knows about 'The Bet'."

"You really like to title things, don't you?" Peter asks, as he joins them. "What bet?"

"Titling things is fun. Matthew Keller and Nicholas Monroe made a bet, years ago, over which of them could forge the Franklin bottle first." He shrugs again. "I've been fortunate enough to never have met Keller before. He tried to get Mozzie in on something a few years ago, but Moz doesn't roll that way. Keller let it drop, but... I dunno. It felt too easy. He's always seemed too much like Uncle Frootloop to just let things go."

"Uncle Frootloop?" Lauren mutters incredulously.

"Niel's godfather," Peter notes offhandedly. "Do you mean Nicholas Monroe, aka Neal Bennett, aka Danny Brooks?"

"Yes, and I know what you're thinking," Danny says, already annoyed. What are the chances he and Monroe would share three, first names, you might wonder? Danny actually knows the answer, thanks to Mozzie, who finds the whole thing hilarious, especially since Monroe seems at times to be an older version of him. At least, judging solely on their alleged work.

"Do you?" Peter grins. "So, you think that's what this is? These two finally trying to settle their bet?"

Danny shrugs a third time. He's doing that a lot today. "Probably. Word on the street is Keller's in town. - A warning spread around whenever he's nearby for anybody who wants to stay white collar to steer clear."

"So I've heard," Peter notes seriously. "Your godfather has similar methods to this guy?"

Danny shrugs.

(Why are you shrugging so much!? Stop that!)

(It'll make us look suspicious.)

"And, now you see why I wanna avoid him at all costs. Both of 'em."

"Keller and Bennett or Keller and Frootloop?"

"Frootloop."

"But, they already caught the guy who did this," Lauren interrupts. "Manuel Campos was caught stuffing the things he stole into his backpack. He was released on bail this morning. I was only looking it over because nobody understood why he would steal duck decoys, supply lists, and old dirt."

Ten minutes later, word comes in that Campos was just killed in a hit-and-run.

Danny is incredibly surprised by Peter's idea for how to handle Cattigan. - The guy working for Weatherby's Auction, which claims it'll be auctioning off the Franklin bottle on Friday.

"Here."

"A takeout menu?" Lauren asks, looking at her boss like he's just sprouted an extra head.

(Too bad that can't be so abnormal for all of us.)

(Shut up. I got better at duplication after I practiced a little.)

(Betcha we're really bad at it again, now. Could be fun to traumatize Peter with come April Fool's Day.)

(We're not gonna do that.)

(Halloween is closer.)

(No supernatural shenanigans in front of the feds!)

(At least, not until we're sure where Peter stands on the subjects of scientific ethics, the determination of sentience, and experimentation on living beings.)

(Pretty confident he's against that last one and all for the first one.)

(It's the one in the middle nobody ever knows how to answer...)

"Yep," Peter confirms, smirking.

Using a takeout menu to make Cattigan think they already have a warrant, without ever actually lying? It sounds like something Danny and Mozzie would do. Danny doesn't know whether to be proud or scared.

(Be both. Con artist skills working behind the safety of a badge? I may have created a monster.)

(At least, this one's on our side.)

For the next few hours, Danny coaches Lauren on how to handle her meeting with Grace Quinn, the broker for the Franklin bottle. Then, he listens in from the van while they talk. She's still a little awkward, there's still some tension and distrust, but she manages. She does a good job for having so much less training than Jones or Diana or Peter.

(They grow up so fast.)

Neal is pretty sure the woman who just left was a fed.

The scary part is that he's not sure.

Usually they're almost comically obvious. He's heard whispers for months now that New York's feds have been getting better at blending in. He guesses he's gonna have to be more careful than the last time he was in the city.

For now, he has a meeting to get to with Grace Quinn about a "client" who's interested in the Franklin bottle. It's a pretty simple con. Bulldog a little about security, work his way into the wine cellar, drop some knowledge on antique wine to both distract Miss Quinn and reassure her that he's the real deal. Oh, and grab the postcard Keller left behind for him. Can't forget that.

Looks like he's got a date with a construction site. Most people would say it's stupid to meet up with Matthew Keller without a weapon, but Neal knows he's not gonna kill him. That would ruin the game. If Keller's gonna kill him, it'll be after everything with the bottle is finished.

(Especially, if I win.)

"Good, you're home," Mozzie says, as Danny steps through the door, wandering in from the balcony with a glass of wine in one hand and never looking up from whatever it is he's reading.

"What's up?" Danny asks, ditching his tie and heading towards the bedroom to put on something actually comfortable.

(Why does looking good have to feel so stiff?)

"We need to steer even more clear of Keller than usual. He's gotten involved with the Russian mob and they are very unhappy with him at the moment. Don't wanna get caught in the cross-fire when it all goes south." Ah. So that's why Mozzie's pulled out the good wine.

"That would explain why he's trying to auction a possibly-fake Franklin bottle."

"What?" His Brother looks at him with concern. "Keller's the one auctioning off the bottle?"

"That's what Peter's trying to figure out," Danny shrugs, pouring himself a glass. Just a little one. He's trying to ignore the very agent-like voice in the back of his head telling him not to.

"I figured this was him and Bennett finally settling their bet and we just hadn't gotten word Bennett's in town yet, but if Keller's got unhappy mobsters after him -"

"And, the money he stole from them," the elder conman interrupts. "Kid, you need to stay away from this. I know Keller seems like a typical thug, but he's smart. Whatever he's doing, it's deeper than it seems."

"What do you think he's up to?"

"...I don't know. If it weren't for the mobsters, I'd say this was just 'The Bet' and I'd fix some popcorn and ask June to watch it with us from a safe distance. Their rivalry is legendary and they'd both want to prove themselves the better forger, fair and square. Not the kinda thing you get to see too often." Danny nodded. "But, I don't even know if Bennett's in town and -"

"And, Keller's got bigger things to worry about, at the moment," Danny finishes. "So, what? You think Keller's gotten his hands on the real bottle somehow and is just gonna auction it off above-board for the money to pay off the Russians."

"...Possibly... It doesn't make sense. But, nobody's gonna give him enough to cover his debt while there's still doubt about whether or not it's a fake, when everybody either in the business or involved in antique wine knows about 'The Bet', but the auction house still isn't gonna dole out for a cesium test unless there's -"

"- good reason to think it's a fake!" They finish together.

"If someone else tried to forge the bottle and submitted it -"

"- they'd have to do the test to prove which one's real!"

"And, if Bennett's in town and thinks Keller's challenging him, -"

"- he'll submit his bottle at the last, possible second -"

"- driving up attention - And, prices, - at the auction house -"

"We need to call Peter."

Danny loves running in-sync with his Brother.

By the next morning, there are two Franklin bottles sitting in the auction house. The FBI are monitoring the situation closely, hoping to grab at least one of the men when the Cesium test proves which is the forgery. The longer things go on, the more sure they all become that Keller's bottle is real and this was one, big setup.

And, Danny and Mozzie's prediction about the whole show driving up the price was right. It's well into the hundred-thousands now.

He understands why he was told to stay home for this one. Keller's dangerous. But, Peter's out there, - Is probably going to be directly involved in the man's arrest and possibly with a Russian mob shootout, - and he just can't sit still!

He just keeps thinking about the whole thing. It's all so complicated it almost seems messy, even though it never would work if it was, and it's definitely working.

"Hey." Danny looks over at his Brother. "Danny. Peter's gonna be okay, kid. I know I don't generally have good things to say about Suits, but this is literally his job." Before Danny can retort, he continues, "Now, do you wanna sit there destroying June's furniture, -"

"I haven't been bouncing my leg that much!"

"- or do you wanna help get your Family out of this alive?"

"Now, hold on just a minute," June interrupts, standing and stepping between the two Brothers. "There is not a chance on this earth you're taking Danny anywhere near that man!"

"Of course not!" Mozzie defends. He glances at Danny. "But, I also know Danny's not gonna relax until Peter's home safe. And, I also, also know Keller's dangerous..."

He doesn't have to say anymore. They all know.

Danny says it anyways.

"June. If Peter dies, I might not survive the backlash to my Core. I definitely won't survive being shipped back to prison, if they decide nobody else wants to be my handler. And, even if I do get a new handler, they're not likely to be as nice to me as Peter."

"Dear," she breathes, turning to place a hand on his cheek, kissing him on the forehead. She backs away to meet his eyes, but her hand stays and the feeling of the kiss does, too. "You make your reasoning sound far more selfish than it is... But, I see your point. If Peter's in danger, you already are." She turns back to Mozzie. "But, we are not going into this without a plan."

His brother nods. "Good thing I already have one. And, Danny never has to get anywhere near any mobsters."

Danny can't believe they left him with a babysitter.

Don't get him wrong. He loves Elizabeth. But, he's more than a little miffed that Mozzie and June hadn't trusted him to stay home and not get involved if someone wasn't there with him.

(They're right, though.)

(That doesn't make it any less annoying!)

So, while Peter's team is (Danny assumes) out looking for where Keller and Bennett are hiding, June and Mozzie leave Danny at the Burkes' place - After making him promise far too many times that he would stay put, - and head for the auction house.

Danny is coming out of his frame. Satchmo and Bugsy are both bouncing between running around and between his legs as he paces and standing off to the side watching him wear a hole in the floor with confused expressions.

"Sweetheart," Elizabeth begins, as Satchmo whimpers in what Danny's choosing to interpret as concern for Danny's mental state and not betrayal from when he'd accidentally stepped on the dog's tail earlier. "Do you wanna help me bake some brownies?"

He sighs, bone-deep and weary. "...Yeah."

It helps. A little. Doing something to distract himself that takes up so many of his senses. The feel of the flour, the smell of the ingredients mixing and melding together, the different temperatures in the room from the oven being on and the mixer running, all the different noises.

It doesn't fix it. But, it helps.

Five, stressful minutes after they've got the treats in the oven, June arrives.

"Where's Mozzie? Is everyone okay?"

"Everything is fine," She places her hands on his shoulders. "Mozzie is at the auction house, as we planned."

"What exactly is he doing, again?" Elizabeth wonders, looking uncertain about what she's getting involved with. Danny doesn't think she'd refuse to help them, especially when it could help Peter, but he still feels a little bad that they hadn't told her yet.

June smiles conspiratorially. "He's buying the Franklin bottle."

"Does Mozzie have the money for that?" She seems caught somewhere between impressed and skeptical.

June's smile turns a bit more devious. "Not readily-available."

"I just got word from my source," Peter says, approaching the pair of rivals on the helipad with a smirk, as his agents surround them, "that the auction house has allowed the winning bidder a whole week to gather the funds to pay for the bottle."

Keller shrugs. "I can wait a week."

"I'm also launching a full investigation into both bottles."

"How long could that take?" Bennett asks, apparently catching on. Not exactly happy about the situation he's now found himself in, but definitely feeling some amount of schadenfreude towards Keller.

"Oh, years," Peter replies. "Think your Russian friends'll wait that long? You can take a ride with Sergei and find out. Or, you can come with us and live to see another day."

As the two forgers are cuffed, Keller looks at Bennett. "Well, Monroe. Looks like we got a new bet to settle." He smirks. "First one to escape wins. Bet I can do it with more flair than you. Bet Alex'll like that."

Danny looks at the man he shares three, first names with, sitting cuffed in one of the FBI's offices. He's heard stories about Neal Bennett. A lot of them from Mozzie, meaning they should be taken with a grain of salt or twelve, depending on how drunk the man was at the time. But, also a few from Alex, who apparently has an on-again-off-again thing with him.

Either way, it's interesting to finally meet him.

"Y'know," Bennett notes calmly, looking at Danny. "I've heard a lot about Niel Caffrey over the years... But, nobody mentioned he was a preschooler."

"Ha. Ha," Danny replies, more than done with the age-related jokes. He'd heard enough of them from literally everyone over the past few months.

(And, no, the bullpen is not actually a playpen.)

"Surprised your balding friend ever let you get caught. Alex says he's like a guard dog when it comes to you."

Danny frowns. Does the man mean Mozzie?

"How's he doing with all this? Still speaking to you, now that you're working with the feds? I've heard he's a pretty cautious guy."

Definitely Mozzie, then. Danny does his best to act unbothered. "He's doin' alright," He replies. "I'll tell him you asked about him."

"And, you? How're you doin', Nicky? - You are little Nicky Halden, aren't you? The gambling champion that took everyone by surprise a few years back? Or, do you prefer Niel, these days?" He smirks.

"I'm fine."

"Are you? On a first name basis with the guy who caught you? Doesn't sound like it, to me."

"Now, you listen here -" Peter steps in, pushing Danny back to physically put himself between the ghost-child and the older criminal. His Tie warms.

"I don't talk to people who lock up kids," Bennett glares, his words somehow cold as ice and heated at the same time. Like a viper.

Everyone freezes and, after a moment, Peter visibly calms. "Good. Neither do I. Wanna sign the petition?"

This just makes Bennett more suspicious. "Petition?"

"What petition?" Danny adds, confused.

Diana appears to his right, sliding a sheet of paper covered in signatures over to Bennett, before explaining, "The petition nearly everyone in this office has signed to get the idiotic judge that decided to try our Niel as an adult formally investigated."

"We didn't approve of that any more than you do," Peter assures seriously. "That's why I suggested his deal. Better an anklet than a cell. I just wish I'd thought of this arrangement sooner."

They wanna investigate the judge? For him? Not just Peter and his team, but most of the office?

Peter glances at him and smirks. "What? You're not the only one allowed to have secret lists."

Bennett looks between them for a long moment, before his gaze settles on the younger of the pair. "You really believe these people wanna help you?"

Danny looks at Peter, who puts a protective arm around him, then back to Bennett. "Yeah. I really do."

(He's my Dad.)

(I have a Dad.)

Bennett relaxes imperceptibly - Danny's probably the only one who notices, - and shrugs. "Then, I'll sign. But, I'm not sure how much good my signature's gonna do you." He looks the page over carefully, before doing just that.

"Every signature counts," Peter assures. "Says a lot that people on both sides of the law disapprove of the way Niel's case was handled."

"Oh, in that case," Bennett grins mischievously and adds two more, well-known aliases to the list. "Lemme know how long it takes 'em to notice."

Before Peter can reply, Jones leans in the doorway to add, "You want in on the betting pool for how old the kid actually is, too?"

The older conman is all too happy to get his name on that one, putting down fifty bucks on fifteen years old.

Soon after, Bennett is led out of the room. "Hey." He pauses in the doorway and turns to Danny. "Take care o' yourself, kid."

"I will," Danny nods, and Diana ruffles his hair.

"We all will. C'mon, gremlin. Got a brand new stack of mortgage fraud cases to go on your desk."

Danny groans and flops over the back of a chair dramatically as Bennett laughs. When the older Neal reaches the elevators, Danny hears him ask one of the agents escorting him, "How did anyone ever think that kid was an adult?"

"We've been wondering that, ourselves."

"Bright green! They've always been blue, but now they're bright green? How? How does that even work? And, the glowing! How are they glowing? Did he - Is it related to his illness, somehow? A side-effect of some messed up medica- Is Neal radioactive!?"

"Honey," Elizabeth interrupts, before her husband can spiral any deeper, walking over to rest her hands on his shoulders and her forehead against his. "Take a deep breath. We're not gonna get anywhere if we panic. Now. Did Neal seem any worse, health-wise?"

He thinks for a moment. "No," he replies decisively. "He actually seemed a little better."

"Okay. That's good. Now, what do you think we should do about it?"

He takes a deep breath in, holds it a moment, then lets it out. Elizabeth waits for him to gather his thoughts as patiently as she can. She's worried about their boy, too, after all.

"...I don't normally do things this way, but... Should I just ask him? I mean, he trusted us enough to admit that he's sick, even if he never gave us any details. And, it's clear he's been getting closer to both of us, especially since we've proven we're not gonna go telling his secrets to the entire office. And, he told me his name. That's gotta mean something, right?"

"Well," she hedges, "you know I'd usually be all for the talk-it-out plan, but Neal's really skittish about this stuff, isn't he?" He nods. "And, you suspect stress makes his condition worse, right?" He nods again. "Then, if he's not ready to talk about it, asking might make him worse again. Or, make him scared enough to run, if he thinks you're planning to make him see a doctor. Especially with how you said he was acting when you were investigating Powell."

Peter sinks down onto the couch and puts his head in his hands. "Then, what're we gonna do, Elle?"

"...Nobody else noticed his eyes?"

"Nobody. Just like nobody's noticed his health."

"...Let's go to the planetarium."

"Huh?"

"We promised Neal we'd go somewhere he could see the stars for his birthday. But, we also said we'd try to find time to go to the planetarium before then. Let's spend more time with him outside of work and meals. Maybe it'll help him trust us more. Then, maybe he'll come to us."

Chapter Text

"I dunno," Diana says to Cruz, leaning against a desk. "Christie doesn't really like to eat lamb. She says she they're so cute and she feels guilty for it."

Suddenly, Neal pops up between them, the huge grin everyone in the office has learned to dread splitting his face practically in two.

"Does that make her a bleating heart?"

"Out."

"What's that?" Mozzie wonders, as Danny arrives home with a box of something that smells sweet. Peering inside, he sees an oddly shaped lump of dough. It's round, with a misshapen hole in the center, and triangles on three of the sides. On the fourth side is what looks almost like a mermaid's tail.

"I mentioned to Elizabeth that I can't cook and now she's teaching me to make doughnuts," his brother grins. "I might make chocolate tomorrow, but this one's plane."

"Hey, Peter?" Neal asks, popping into his office. "If an astronaut gets fired from working on a rocket, is that a dismissile?"

"Neal, you cannot torture me with puns until I let you out of mortgage fraud duty."

"Wanna bet?"

Oh.

Oh, no.

He just made it worse, didn't he?

Of all the times Neal got on everyone's nerves, Peter's certain none will ever be worse than the day they have to interview a zookeeper.

A zookeeper who likes puns.

"Are ewe telling me he just ewes'd the sheep to distract everyone?" Neal asks, eyes alight with mischief.

"Oh, it was awful," the woman grins, contrary to her own words, "I asked him if the sheep were fawning over the deer so much because he'd put something in their food. Maybe in the doe for the bread he snuck them. It made them pretty sleepy, too. They were does-ing all of the next day."

"- just can't believe someone would try to smuggle a box of frogs out of the country in the back of a Volkswagen Golf Harlequin." Lauren complains to Jones, as they stand in the break room. "Like, why."

As if summoned, Neal's head appears around the corner of the doorframe.

"This story is absolutely ribbit-ing. Please, tell me you had them toad."

"It was so cute," Marsha tells Daphne of the show her nieces had watched the previous afternoon while she'd been babysitting. "Really wholesome. Except for the little, baby crocodile one of them had as a pet. He kept trying to eat his owner, even though he had no teeth, and the implications were kinda terrifying."

Daphne takes another sip of coffee. "Good thing ponies can't make dentures."

"Would taking him to the dentist be considered gator aid?"

The two women groan, but can't help smiling at the definitely-not-a-real-adult who has somehow invaded their conversation, their office, and their hearts.

"What are you doing?" Mozzie asks, watching as Danny holds one of Byron's old walking sticks above his head.

"What does it look like?" The kid replies, grinning. "I'm raising cane."

Mozzie needs more wine.

"Not to mention what he did to the birds."

It's been an hour and Neal and the zookeeper are still going.

"What kinda problem did he caws with the birds?" the kid asks, practically vibrating with giddiness.

"Oh, he stole a bunch of chicks and tried to sell them for cheep."

"If I was them, I'd stage a coo."

"Not you, too!" Peter says, looking at Jones aghast.

He shrugs at him. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

"Does that mean you're on-bird with us?" Neal grins.

Diana smacks him upside the head. But, fondly. "That was the worst one yet."

"I'll just have to try harder."

The horror on everyone's faces at that comment has them quickly shifting their glares and groans to Diana.

"Hey, Jones," Neal says, coming over to Clinton's desk, "You know stuff about comic books, right?"

"Sure," Clinton smiles.

"If Tony Stark built a really big boat that ran on the same energy source as his tower, would it be an ark reactor?"

Clinton put his head in his hands.

"Wait," Neal asks, stepping into the conversation Terry and Lauren are having. "He was wearing fake grills?"

"Yep," Lauren grins. "Flew off in the middle of him getting arrested and landed in the NYPD chief's coffee."

"Man," the kid grins back, "Talk about bare-ing your teeth."

"Caffrey, no."

"He's a singer?" Neal asks about their newest suspect.

"And, amateur guitarist," Peter notes, smirking, "If you can call the noise he makes 'music'."

"If we arrest him, he could call himself 'The Barred Bard'."

"Neal."

"Would he still be able to cell his music from prison?"

"Neal."

"Hey, don't look at me. It was hymn."

"Then, the idiot tried to get away through the apiary, but he forgot to close the gate behind him and was chased by an angry buck. But, - Oh, deer, - his antlers got stuck in a hive and they both made a beeline for the exit. That's how he wound up in the fish pond."

"Now you're just being koi with me."

Peter's pretty sure the zookeeper's just making all this up to keep the gag going at this point.

"Gotta reel you in somehow."

Definitely making it up.

"But, the pond was full of ducks and he quacked a bone in his arm."

"How humerus. I hope he ulna'd up to the whole mess in the end."

"Oh, he didn't stop there. The security footage shows that he -"

"And, I thought my backstory was weird," Neal notes, listening to the group of agents recounting an incident from their latest case.

A man had stolen a truckload of musical instruments and, when stopped, had climbed out of the cab, grabbed one of his stolen bass guitars, and started swinging.

The FBI agents hadn't even been after him. They'd just stopped him because he'd been in the area they were investigating and they wanted to ask if he'd seen anything. But, then he'd panicked.

The whole situation had come to a head when a little old lady across the street had seen what was happening, cursed at the young man, taken a ball from her grandson's hands, and thrown it at the assailant. He'd swung once again on instinct and hit a perfect home run, but it had bounced off a light post and hit him in the face, knocking him out instantly.

Back in the present, the kid before the agents grins. "How likely do you think it is we could get the both of them into a bassball league?"

"Neal," Peter (and everyone else) groans, putting his head in his hands. (But, he's sure the kid's noticed he's still smiling.)

"Maybe it was cymbal-ic."

"Caffrey," Kieth whines, as Michaels buries his head in Kieth's shoulder to hide his grin.

The fax machine three feet away suddenly starts printing something out.

Neal shrugs. "I'm just stating fax."

"You're so corny!"

"I know. I'm a maize-ing."

"So, you're telling me," Neal asks, pausing Marsha in her story about some book she's been reading, "that the guy was strangled with a diamond necklace, and no one said, 'He's dead, gem'?"

"Not everyone has the creative nature you have, Sweetheart."

"That's true."

Peter looks up when Neal slams his hands down on his desk.

"I wanna give Mozzie a conspiracy for his birthday."

Against his better judgement, Peter's actually curious. "How're you gonna do that?"

The kid grins like a feral monkey. "Me n' June have this plan to turn a normal word into a bad word on his behalf. Wanna help?"

"Then, the duck stole his wallet and went into the ducts."

"The duck ducked into the duct?"

Peter cannot believe this is still going on. How is this his life?

"He tried to follow it, but couldn't fit, so he went around, climbed a fence, and wound up in the gorilla pen."

"Are you saying he ran afowl of the duck and the gorilla? Was it gorilla warfare after that?"

"Sure seemed like it to the gorilla. So, the gorilla's mad, the guy's in the cage with him and has a broken arm, the duck's in the vent and we haven't found him yet, - "

"You should print some missing fliers."

"Good idea! - And all the burrowing animals have freaked out and tunneled their way all over the zoo."

"Hey, if they want their freedom, I think they should gopher it. Sounds like they were in a hare-y situation."

"Why is there a block of wood on my desk?"

"I didn't want you to get board during your meeting. You're welcome."

"How did your case start off with mortgage fraud and end up with a dead monk who doesn't even believe in monetary possessions," Peter wonders aloud, staring at Diana with incredulity.

"What happened to the monk?" Neal asks.

"Our guy tried to push him off a roof," Jones explains. "He's alright, though. Just a little shaken. He landed in an awning."

"He's not dead?"

"No. That's what I just said."

"Okay, good. Then, it's alright for me to make a joke about an air friar."

Diana throws a plastic pen at the kid.

...So, it turns out Neal and Mozzie both can (and are completely willing to) do the Person 4 Specialist dance if asked.

Wearing mobster hats, of course.

Peter isn't sure how he feels about this.

Diana is much less conflicted.

"I gnu that was gonna happen!"

Peter is beginning to hate this zookeeper.

"It was the missing lynx to the whole story."

"Everything has a purrpose now."

"I know this is getting ruff, but don't tapir off on me."

What animal are they even talking about now? Or, have they moved on to animal-pun anarchy?

"Let's put the story on paws and go get some chocolate moose."

"I know the perfect place. It's at the shopping maul. We can take the lion."

"Did your mews inspire that one?"

Anarchy.

Peter glances over at Neal, who's staring far too intently at a small boat out in the harbor. He puts a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Something wrong, Neal?" It's just a bunch of teenagers being stupid. One of them is hanging half off the side, trying to... Actually, Peter's not really sure what he's trying to do.

Neal watches quietly for a few more seconds, until suddenly, the kid on the boat manages to slap a passing buoy without falling in the water.

Neal's expression instantly morphs into one of glee, as he cries out a triumphant, "Yeah, buoy!"

Peter facepalms to the sound of distant teenagers cackling, apparently having heard his kid shout.

Neal elbows him, grinning. "You sea what I did there?"

"Yeah. I see it."

Peter rushes to the next room when he hears a loud bang.

There stands Agent North by a clearly-malfunctioning printer, both of them covered in cerulean ink.

"What happened?" Peter asks.

"Isn't it obvious?" Neal asks, gesturing to the scene in general. "It blue up."

"Burke, I'm gonna kill your gremlin, I swear."

Peter sighs. "I'll talk to hi-"

"Does that mean I'm gonna dye young?"

"Then, he lassoed the pony with the hosepipe, but the mama horse didn't take too kindly to that."

Neal nods sagely. "She probably tried to foaled him in half."

"Oh, she did. But, she missed when the cow showed back up and tried to gore him."

"Been a while since we herd about the cow. How has she been mane-aging?"

"Oh, she was in a mood, let me tell you."

"Hay, can you blame her? She's probably got a lot of unbridled rage against this guy, like the mama horse."

The zookeeper nods. "We're still trying to rein her in."

"This is udderly ridiculous," Peter mutters to himself, then immediately regrets it.

"That's it. I think we're done here," Diana says suddenly, grabbing Neal by the collar and bodily dragging him out the door, as the kid and the zookeeper both snicker.

"Didn't peg you for a neigh-sayer, Diana!"

"You didn't enjoy our silly tail!?"

Peter is so fed up with this awful, office coffee. Maybe making a habit of grabbing fancy coffee at June's before work had been a mistake. He's spoiled himself. And, now, he can't even pretend to tolerate the awful, office coffee, because the awful, office coffee maker isn't even working. He's about ready to chuck the thing in the trash, when Neal appears in the doorway.

"Don't throw that. You'll brews something."

"I think we should take a cruise," Tina notes to her best friend, not really meaning it, but liking the idea.

"What a naval idea."

Tina's head hits the desk. Neal is adorable, but he really needs to cut it out with the bad jokes.

Peter is in the middle of giving a briefing, when Neal smirks and mutters something he can't quite catch.

Then, Diana slaps the kid on the back of the head, causing him to giggle like a baby super-villain.

...Eh. It's probably fine.

"Hey, if we got Mozzie a part in an Off-Broadway production of Cinderella, would that make him Mozzarella."

"Go do your homework," Peter orders, not even looking up from the paperwork he's filling out.

"Excuse you. I am an adult."

"And, I'm Keira Knightly," Jones notes, appearing in the doorway.

Diana looks up, as Neal returns from his coffee run looking disheveled. "Whoa! What happened to you?"

The kid just slumps over on the nearest desk miserably. "Somebody mugged me and stole my coffee." Neal blinks, then straightens and slams his hands on the desk. "That's why Mozzie was laughing when I called him! How did I miss that one." Even Diana would admit, he has the cutest, little scowl. Like a grumpy toddler. "And, he did it so brilliantly, too. He stole my coffee first, and, therefore, I was not awake enough to identify him."

But, somehow, no one seems annoyed at all, one chilly, February morning, when every desk in the office has a little, pink card taped to it. Hand-drawn, with a terrible pun on one side and a beautiful sketch of the recipient on the other.

Except for Jones, who it seems has mentioned a D&D campaign to the kid at some point and, when Peter arrives, runs up to him and shoves something in his face.

"Neal made a model of me fighting a dragon! This is the coolest thing ever!" He shouts, before dashing off again to show someone else, like an excited kindergartener with a brand-new, hand-print turkey.

Peter shakes his head with a smile. How did he get such chaotically good kid?