Again what have I done? I'm mean to Neal. Someone should take him away from me. That being said. There's only one more part of this series before it's over. I hope you've like it.

Warning: Dub-con (prostitution).

If you want to be kept up to date with any upcoming stories or want to ask me to write a story for you please follow me on Facebook or on Tumblr under SilverMidnight52! I own nothing.

Tilting his head back Neal closed his eyes and let the hot water wash over him. He had been send home early to get ready to go undercover. Instead he had been standing in the shower since he had gotten there.

It wasn't often that he stopped and wondered how he had gotten to a point in his life, but that was exactly what he was doing. Normally he knew exactly what he was doing and he had no qualms whatsoever with anything that happened.

The fact that he was questioning it made him more worried than he liked to admit. To him the second he started to wonder what was going on was the second that he had lost control over himself. He hated the idea of losing control over himself.

If he was truthful with himself though it wasn't just that he hated it. It was the fear that came with it. Before Mozzie had become such a big part of his life he had taken care of himself in any way that he could.

Before that though he had been a simple teenager living in St. Louis dreaming of a life that he would never be able to have. Dreaming of being free to do whatever he wanted. Dreaming of only having himself to answer to.

Yes, he had other dreams too. The main one being like his father. A police officer sworn to uphold the law. He had wanted that more than he had ever wanted anything else in his life. At least that's what he thought at the time.

He knew that to a lot of people he had broken when he heard the news of what really happened to his father, but that wasn't it. It wasn't him that broke. It was the legacy. The idea that if his father died a hero than it was only right that he do the same thing.

Now that he was older he realized just how little that made sense. He had been a kid when he lost the man though. A kid that needed to have something to hold on to. His mother had given him that in spades.

At the same time though she had planted the idea that he should be proud of his father and want to be just like him. When he finally knew the truth about what happened he laid his thoughts to rest and started to think for himself again.

Maybe he would have been a cop in a different life. Working with Peter let him see that he would be at the job. A part of him was happy that he would never know if that was true. Being a cop was what his father did. It wasn't him though.

Finding out about the lies had given him a reason to leave behind a life that he had never actually wanted in the first place. He loved Ellen with all of his heart, but he needed his freedom from all of it.

For the longest time that freedom had only come in dreams. The first poster he had ever had on his wall was actually a map of the world. It was the last thing that he saw when he went to bed and the first thing he saw when he woke up.

He never would have guessed that he would end up doing what he did, but he couldn't say that he regretted it. Well, he didn't regret what it was at the moment. There had been more than a few bumps that he didn't want to think about.

Except that the past had a funny way of making itself known again. Especially when that was the last thing you ever wanted to think about. It found its way back into your life and forced you to live in that world again.

He had thought that he had walked away from everything. Even when he came back to New York he had thought that he was free from it all. It had happened years ago and he was the only one that knew about it. It should have stayed that way.

That wasn't going to happen anymore. While he didn't have to talk to Peter and the rest of the team he did have to tell Mozzie what was going to happen. Maybe he didn't have to tell him everything he'd know that it wasn't the full truth.

Neal hated lying to the people that he cared about. He might omit and stretch the truth, but he did his best to never lie about anything. Peter might not believe him when he said that, but Mozzie knew better.

So when he told the man what was going on he was going to be greeted with this look. The one that made him realize that his lover was the only person on the planet that could always read him. He'd know something was going to happen.

Unlike everyone else he'd never ask the question though. That wasn't who either of them were. They didn't ask each other what was going on. They simply sat next to each other and waited for one of them to talk. He liked it that way. He didn't have to lie.

This was one of those times when he didn't have a choice on whether or not he was going to talk. Even if he didn't have everything else in his past he would have to tell the man what he was going to do. The past just made it all the worse.

How was he supposed to tell his lover what he was going to be doing that night? How was he supposed to tell him who he used to be? Who he had been when they first met? How could he explain what he had done?

When he first came to New York he had been looking for himself. For the longest time he had lived in a role that wasn't his own. He had the chance to go and figure out who he was outside of his parents and St. Louis.

Being in New York meant that for the first time he was in full control of himself. Oddly enough the first thing he did was make some rules to live by. He told himself that it was easier that way. That it gave him enough space to find out who he was without being stupid.

The only problem with that was he had no idea what he was doing. Yes, he had learned a few tricks growing up. A handful of little cons that got him enough money to help keep food on the table for him and his mother.

He didn't have a table anymore though. The $700 he had saved up to get to the city had run out quickly and those rules just weren't cutting it anymore. So he started to pick the pockets of people that looked like they'd never miss the money in the first place.

On a good month he'd be able to make enough to pay rent and get a little bit of food. On a bad month he had to skip the food altogether. There were always more bad months than there were good ones.

That didn't make him turn tail and run though. No, he was in full control of himself and he was never going to give that up. All he had to do was work a little harder. Then everything would fall into place for him. At least that's what he said.

The longer he sat in his empty apartment though the more desperate he became. A desperate man was a foolish man. One night when his stomach was so empty it hurt he broke the number one rule he had promised him. He found someone that would willingly pay him for sex.

It wasn't the proudest moment of his life, but at the time it had felt like he had no choice. Maybe he didn't. He still wasn't all that sure. It was hard to think of anything clearly when your stomach was trying to eat itself.

He wished that he could say that he had just done it the one time, but he couldn't. Night after night he let people pay to spend the night or a few hours with him. He truly hated thinking about just how 'popular' he had been.

It made him sick to his stomach to think about what he had done. It was the last thing that he had ever wanted to do. Not because he believed in the sanctity of sex or something like that, but because of how small it had made him feel.

There was a reason that no one knew about that chapter in his history. To this day he could still feel the looks that strangers sent him when they saw him on the street. He couldn't deal with the looks his friends would give him.

Of course then there were the looks his clients sent him. He never felt worse about himself than when he was with those people. The names that they called him on top of everything else they paid him to do…

There was nothing like hearing people call him 'pretty boy' while they were… Nothing said beautiful quite like being hurt by a total stranger. Those days taught him more about pretending to be another person than Mozzie ever could.

He had worked so hard to make sure that he never had to think about those times again. Under normal circumstance he wouldn't have to. Except the case he and Peter were working on involved high class male escorts. Which, of course, meant that he was going undercover.

Sometimes he wondered how the White Collar crew had solved any cases without him. None of them knew what they were doing when it came to anything high class. They all seemed to have an actual dislike for the finer things.

Which left him to do a lot of things on his own and he couldn't exactly say no. If the day ever came when he had to refuse to do something it was going to come with a long interrogation and an even longer stay in prison.

So he had no choice. He never did. The only thing that he could do was pretend to be an escort while listening to Peter and the team make fun of him for doing something they couldn't do themselves and he had to do it without saying a word. Fun.

"Neal," Mozzie called cutting through the forger's thoughts.

Instantly the world came back to Neal and he fumbled for the water when he realized just how cold it was. He couldn't believe that he had been so lost in thought that he had actually missed the water turning to ice.

As soon as the water was off though he felt himself freeze. His lover was just outside waiting for him to walk out and be like his normal self. Which was the last thing that he could do at the moment.

Carding a hand through his hair he forced himself to take a deep breath. He had to calm down before he went out there so he could explain what was going on. Oh god, he was actually going to have to explain what was going on. How could he say those words to his lover?

"Neal?" Moz called once more a tinge of worry in his voice.

Clenching his eyes shut Neal tried not to think as he climbed out of the shower and slipped on his robe. Normally he would have walked out of the bathroom without a thing on, but not this time. He couldn't do naked at that moment.

"Hey Moz," he greeted stopping awkwardly by the doorway.

"Have plans for the night?" the con questioned his eyes traveling over him like they always did.

Swallowing down the sickness that he felt Neal did his best to calm himself down. This wasn't a random John. This was the man that he loved. The man that he knew would never harm him. He didn't have to be afraid.

He hated himself for that. For being afraid that someone he knew loved him might hurt him. It made no sense. Mozzie was a good person who had never given him a reason not to trust him. He was a good man. A good man that was probably going to be incredibly pissed at him.

"Are you okay?" Mozzie asked stepping closer to him only for Neal to step back.

A hurt look came to the older man's face when he did that. It was a look that he hadn't seen in years. Since they first partnered up. One that he hadn't caused in years. He wanted to hit himself for bring that look back.

Staring into the older man's eyes he watched him move to the other side of the table giving him more than enough room. Everything in him told him to go over to his lover and pull him into a hug, but he couldn't bring himself to do that.

"I'm sorry," Neal muttered wrapping his arms around himself.

"What happened?" Mozzie tried his eyes darting around looking for some answers.

"My past."

"Your mother? I thought she died a few years ago."

"No, not her. A different part of my past."

Nodding his head Mozzie sat at the table before resting his hands on top of it. The move was the exact the one he used to use when Neal felt jumpy. He wouldn't question why he'd simply put his hands in a position where he could see them. A way to keep him from thinking he was going to be hurt.

A broken laugh fell from his lips as tears filled his eyes. He hated seeing the older man do that move. It just reminded him that after everything they had been through together he still was the same kid that he had always been.

"I'm sorry, Moz," Neal whispered the tears slowly streaming down his face, "I'm sorry."

"Neal," Mozzie attempted to soothe, "What happened? What part of your past came back?"

"I started when I first came to New York. I told myself I wouldn't do it, but I had to. I wasn't making enough money on my own."

"Neal, what are you talking about?"

"Please, believe me. I didn't have a choice."

"Neal, you have to tell me what you did."

"I… When we first met I was… I was a prostitute."

By the time he finished talking his eyes were closed. He didn't want to watch the man he loved more than anything look at his with disgust before he walked out of his life forever. He couldn't even blame him if he did. Lord knows how hard he tried to run himself.

"Okay," Mozzie said after a moment.

"What?" the forger asked his eyes flying open to stare, "Wh-What do you mean 'okay'?"

"We both have pasts, Neal. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Nothing wrong… Did you not hear what I said, Moz? I was a prostitute. I let people have sex with me for money. I willingly let complete strangers call me names, hit me, tie me up, fuck me. I let women choke me until I passed out! I let men dig their teeth into my skin until I bled! I begged for them to screw me so hard I forgot my name!"

"Neal…"

"How can you sit there like everything is fine? Like I'm not disgusting and filthy and… How can you… How could I…"

Words failed Neal at that point and all he could do was lean against he wall sobbing. The images from his past circled in his brain making him want to bash his head into the wall. Anything to make them stop.

"You survived," Mozzie stated firmly, "That's all any of us can do."

"That doesn't make what I did..." the forger tried shaking his head.

"Neal, listen to me. I understand regretting things that you've done. You know I'm not proud of everything I've done. You know the darkness I was falling into before I met you. You know the things that I've done."

"You didn't sell your body for food. You're smarter than that. You used your brain. I opened my legs and..."

"Stop. Just stop."

Shaking his head Neal ran a hand through his hair not knowing what to say or do anymore. He had expected the other man to look at him the same way that everyone else had. Like he was nothing more than a piece of trash on the street. That was exactly how he felt too.

"I'm nothing, Moz," he whispered staring down at his hands,

"You can't believe that about yourself, Neal," the con said standing up quickly only to sit down once more when the younger man flinched back.

"It's true."

"Neal..."

"I'm not but a pretty face and you know it. Take that away and I'm nothing."

"I know no such thing, Neal. I have never thought of you that way and I…"

"Neal, have I ever cared about anyone's looks?"

"No."

"Then why do you think that I would start caring now?"

"Everyone cares about my looks. It's the only part of me that anyone focuses on anymore."

"Since when have I been like anyone else?"

Chuckling softly Neal felt himself relax a bit. He had always been so afraid of what the man would think when he knew the truth. The fact that he was still standing there made him feel better than he thought he could.

With a deep breath he slowly made his way over to the table and sat next to his lover. He felt more than a little shaky as he placed his hand palm up on the table. Instantly the older man was threading their fingers together holding his hand tightly.

"I hate myself for what I did," Neal offered after a moment.

"You survived," Mozzie stated firmly rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, "That's all that matters. I understand doing things you promised yourself you wouldn't do. I understand more than you know, but sometimes all you can do is survive."

Learning forward Neal pressed a gentle kiss to the man's lips. It was nothing more than a peck, but the fact that he was able to do that made him hope that everything really would be okay. He loved that Mozzie could make him feel that way.

"Why did you bring this up now?" Mozzie continued staring at him, "You wouldn't have told me if you didn't have to."

"That would be what I'm doing tonight," Neal sighed, "Peter has me going under as an escort."

The older man's grip on his hand suddenly got almost painful. Something that had been happening a lot lately. Every time he said the feds name his lover tensed. It was like he was trying to keep himself calm.

He knew that Mozzie and Peter didn't get along, but they had been working fairly well together. Obviously something had happened to change that, but neither of them had told him what that thing was.

"I hate that man," the con gritted out.

"He's doing his job," Neal instantly defended.

"He's using you."

"That's part of his job."

"No, it's not. Neal, you are not a toy that he can toss around when he feels like it and lock you up when he doesn't need you."

With a dark smirk he pulled away from the man and swung his leg up on the table. With a flourish he motioned to the anklet with a fake smile. The glare Moz gave the hardware was so dark he thought it would burst into flames.

"I'm whatever he says I am," Neal stated sounding calmer than he felt, "As long as I wear that he owns me."

"Then why are you still wearing it?" the con asked frustration clear in his words, "It would be easy for you to cut it and run. We could go wherever you wanted."

"It's not that simple."

"Of course it is. The Suit only has..."

"It's not him I'm worried about. I mean, I care about Peter. I really do. For everything that we've been through he's my friend. I know you don't like that and I know you think that's why I stay here, but it doesn't even factor on the list."

"If not him then what could be so important?"

"June. Elizabeth. They make my stay here worth it. They make me never want to run again. I don't need them in my life the same way I need you, but I like knowing that I can talk to them, see them, whenever I want to."

"You're leaving something out."

Neal smiled at the older man when he said that. He loved just how easy it was for the man to read him. He didn't even have to pause and he never said that the man was lying. All he did was point out there was more to the story than he was saying. It was perfect.

"I want freedom," Neal offered a brilliant smile coming to his lips, "Actual freedom."

"Then cut your anklet," Mozzie argued back, "You'll be fine."

"No, I won't be. I'll be on the run. We'll be on the run. We'll have to look over our shoulders everywhere we went. I don't want that life for us. I want to just be with you."

The older man stared at him for a moment before standing up. Neal's heart sank when he saw that. Was it possible that he had finally said something to make him leave? Was the fact that he was staying too much for Mozzie to deal with any longer?

"Do you want to leave this life?" Mozzie questioned not looking at him.

"Give up being a forger?" Neal replied staring at the man, "I don't know. Sometimes I do, but…"

"But?"

"I love this life. I love what I do. What we do. Forging, conning, traveling the world and learning everything. Being able to look at the world without wondering how the rules are attempting to hide the truth. I love it all. I don't know if I could ever give it up."

"Would you want to try?"

"Honestly? I don't know. Maybe one day I would. Right now though… I mean, in a way already have had to give up the life and I feel like I'm going insane. As much as I want to give it up sometimes… I couldn't do it."

"Are you sure? Because I could… If it would make you happy I could try."

Standing up Neal made his way to his lover and pulled him into a kiss. He didn't mean for it to be anything beyond a peck, but feeling a sure hand come up to cradle the back of his neck the younger man let himself just feel.

"I love you, Moz," he offered breaking the kiss, "I know how much you love doing this and I would never ask you to give it up. I honestly don't care as long as you're with me."

"I haven't left yet," Mozzie smiled before taking a deep breath, "You'd really be okay staying in this life? The Suit thinks you've made a lot of progress. That you could be an upstanding citizen."

"We both know I'd last two hours before I was bored. You've seen me bored."

"It's not a pretty picture."

"No, it's not. Speaking of ugly pictures I have to get ready to go under as an escort. Will you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Be here when I get back? And maybe don't touch me. I don't… I don't know what I'm going to have to do tonight."

"You're not pulling the strings. I know. I'll be here."

"Thank you, Moz. I'm going to get ready before I think better of this and run."

"The Suit picking you up."

"Yes, he wants to go over things."

"Of course he does."

"Mozzie."

"I don't like him."

"But you love me and you'll be civil to him for me because you know he'll start if you push too hard."

"That's the only reason. I make no promises what I'll do if he ever does something to hurt you."

"I expect nothing less. Alright. Getting ready. Wish me luck on getting what I need without having sex with the guy."