Burke family cabin, Catskills. Thursday morning. March 4, 2004.

Several times on the way back to cabin, Neal looked at Henry, almost asked something, and then changed his mind. As they approached the porch, Henry lagged behind. Peter and Satchmo went inside, while Henry dropped into an Adirondack chair and said, "Here's your chance. Whatever it is, say it." Henry made a show of pulling off his snow boots and knocking off the snow, in case anyone looked out the windows to wonder what they were up to.

Neal sat on a matching chair and pulled off his boots. "What do you remember about my mom?"

"I was only five years old the last time I saw her."

"Nearly six. I can't ask Noelle, not now. She's too upset about what I said last night. If I ask for her perspective, she'll probably want to defend Mom. I just... I want to know what she was like before WITSEC, before she started drinking."

Henry took a deep breath. "I remember being confused when people couldn't tell our moms apart. I always knew which one was my mom, and they seemed different to me. They both sang and played the piano. All the Caffreys did that. But different things made them sing. My mom would wake me up or say hello with a song, and she chose pop songs. Your mom sang when she was cooking or planning a meal, and she went for stuff in other languages. They spent a lot of time overseas as kids, you know, when the Ambassador was moving up in the diplomatic corps. They learned languages on their travels, but your mom picked them up the fastest. From what I've heard, I think she and David had more wanderlust. At the times I met her, I wasn't all that interested in Meredith. I was aware of her as your mom, someone on the periphery when we were playing. The main thing I remember was the food. My mom can cook, but yours turned it into an art. Any time we went to your house, there would be lots of food to pick from. Those visits were among the few times at that age when I was willing to try new foods without making a big fuss." Henry gazed into the distance, delving into old memories.

"Anything else?"

"Not about your mom. I remember our dads had a lot to talk about, both being cops at the time, but looking back I can see they weren't exactly friendly."

"Any idea why they didn't get along?" Neal asked.

Henry looked embarrassed, which was rare in Neal's experience. "It's not important. Maybe we should go back inside."

"You know I'm not going to give up. I'll pry it out of you eventually. You might as well tell me."

Henry closed his eyes. "Money. The Winslows were loaded, and the Bennetts weren't. We had a big house especially considering Dad was bringing in a cop's salary, and your folks had a tiny place by comparison. Over the years I realized my parents accepted money from my Winslow grandparents, mostly under the guise of dividends from family ownership of Win-Win. Your parents wouldn't accept money from our Caffrey grandparents." He faced Neal. "Your dad was jealous, and mine wasn't exactly gracious."

Neal hadn't expected that. "D'you think, if we hadn't gone into WITSEC, I would have been jealous of you?"

Henry stood up and offered his hand, pulling Neal to his feet. "C'mon. I'm older, wiser and better looking. If you aren't jealous of me already, why would money have made a difference?"

Conversation remained lighthearted through lunch. They joked about Peter taking them by surprise with the sleds, and laughed about the snowball fight. El talked about Peter playing hockey and being a great ice skater, while she could barely stay upright in skates. Noelle mentioned that she loved to ski. The talk of winter activities led to a challenge to build the best snowman, with the competition taking place behind the cabin right after lunch.

They had barely gotten started on the snowmen when the weather took a turn for the worse. They ran inside to escape the sleet, and built up the fire. Soon the electricity went out, but Peter started up the propane generator. By mid-afternoon, Neal had an easel set up in front of the main windows, capturing the icy scene in soft acrylic colors. Everyone else had gathered in front of the fireplace.

###

Sitting on one of the sofas beside the fireplace, Peter looked around the cabin with pleasure. Neal was painting, Henry was savoring a cup of hot chocolate that was at least fifty percent marshmallow, El was leaning against Peter with her cup of tea, and Noelle looked thoughtful. Henry seemed to notice her expression and asked, "What is it?"

Noelle looked at Peter a moment, and then back at her son. "I wondered if your being like a brother to Neal, and Peter being like a father to him makes Peter a father figure to you, too."

Henry glanced at Peter with a surprised expression, and then gazed into the fire as he thought it over. Finally he nodded. "Possibly. But Neal is the baby of the family. He's everyone's favorite."

Peter experienced a moment of panic. Feeling like a father to one trouble-prone young man had been overwhelming. Now he had somehow collected another son?

Neal had seemed so absorbed in his painting that Peter didn't think he heard the conversation, but he said, "Wait. Does that mean Henry is jealous of me?"

Henry had opened his mouth for what was likely a sarcastic response, but he remained silent when Noelle put a firm hand on his shoulder. Instead Noelle said in the calm tones of a therapist, "Is that surprising?"

"Well, yeah." Neal kept painting. Peter guessed that Noelle was reaching a part of the kid's mind that normally stayed in the background, but was currently answering the questions while the more creative, defensive part of his mind was still absorbed in art. "I'm the one who's jealous. Henry grew up knowing who he really was, with two parents, awesome grandparents, and was pretty much doted on. We've got identical twins for moms. You clearly love him. My mom wanted me dead. Makes me wonder. Was it just bad luck, or did I do something wrong?" A moment later the rest of his brain seemed to catch up. He put down the brush and ran his hands through his hair.

Noelle stood up and walked to him. "Neal, these are exactly the questions I expected you to start asking now that your memories have returned. It's common for victims of abuse to wonder if they did something to deserve it. It wasn't your fault, but it's going to take some time for you to accept that. Will you come upstairs with me for another session? We should talk this through while it's pressing on your mind."

Neal looked at her, indecision in his expression. "You don't hate me for the things I said about Mom last night?"

"No, Neal. I still love you. And that introduces a host of other issues as your therapist that we'll deal with later."

With Neal and Noelle upstairs, Peter focused his attention on Henry and asked, "What have you learned about Win-Win's source of Flashback and this Mr. Hyde character?"

Henry shook his head. "I can't share that information with the FBI."

"You're under contract with the FBI as a consultant on this case."

"I'll have to check with Allen Winston, but I think an internal Win-Win investigation is exempt from our contract."

"I can't believe you're pulling this jurisdictional crap. This is about someone trying to kill Neal. Stop playing games and tell me what you've learned, or so help me I'll..." Peter trailed off as he took in Henry's expression.

The kid was radiating innocence, but his eyes were full of mischief. "You gonna tell my mom I'm misbehaving?"

"I should," Peter said.

Henry grinned. "She's right. You're really getting into Dad mode." He relaxed into the sofa, letting his head rest on the back so that he was looking up at the ceiling. "All I've got so far are dead ends. This Hyde guy knows what he's doing."

"When you did that research on Flashback a year ago, did you get a sample of the drug?"

"The manufacturer offered it, but I turned it down. I wasn't doing clinical research. It was more a compilation of others' research results and a recommendation of whether or not we should invest. I see where you're going, Peter, but a sample wouldn't have been enough for what Highbury was doing. They needed a steady supply."

"It crossed my mind at one point that you might have been behind things, trying to get Neal to take the drug to make him face his memories, but there were too many holes in that theory."

"Yeah, if you seriously thought I'd try to kill Neal, you'd turn my whole world upside down. I'd probably need therapy, too."

"You ever had therapy?"

Henry shook his head. "They did a psych assessment when I joined Win-Win. I was boringly normal and well adjusted."

But that had been over a year ago. Peter couldn't help noticing Henry was making a show today of being relaxed. Beneath that show, tension lurked, and Peter wondered if there was more to it than worry about Neal. Before Peter could decide how to approach the subject, he heard a vehicle on the road leading to the cabin. The sleet that brought down the power lines had also taken down the telephone landlines, and cell coverage was nonexistent this far from any towns. That meant it was probably one of the local Burke family members checking up on them. Walking over to the window, he could see a familiar red truck pulling up. "Joe's here," he told Elizabeth.

"Is it still sleeting?" she asked as she stood up.

"It's slowed down, but yeah, it's still accumulating." Peter opened the door as his brother ran up to the porch. "Get in here," he said, closing the door as soon as Joe was inside.

"Thanks," said Joe. "We thought someone should come up and check on you city slickers. I've got an extra propane tank in the back of the truck."

"That can wait," Elizabeth said. "Take off your coat and give me a hug." When she stepped out of the hug she insisted Joe sit down. "Coffee, tea? We may have some hot chocolate left."

"Coffee would be great. Thanks, El." Joe settled into the chair facing the fireplace. "We were pretty sure the cabin was stocked to keep you through the storm, but Mom was going to fret if we didn't double check. I brought along some supplies, mostly pantry stuff."

"I hope you plan on staying here tonight," Peter said, as El brought each of them a cup of coffee. "The sun will be going down too soon for you to make it home, and no one should be driving in this weather in the dark." After Elizabeth settled beside Peter he said, "Henry, you've probably guessed by now this is my brother, Joe Burke. Joe, Henry Winslow is one of our guests. The others are upstairs."

Henry stood and reached over to shake Joe's hand. "Nice to meet you. I can bring in those supplies while you catch up."

Peter nodded, and Joe handed over the keys to the truck. "Couple of boxes behind the driver's seat. You probably want to make two trips."

Soon Henry was bundled up and outside. Joe took the opportunity to be nosy. "When you called to ask if the cabin was free, you didn't say why you suddenly wanted to use it. I think half the reason Mom insisted on me coming up here was so I could tell her what finally dragged you away from the city."

Peter rolled his eyes. "We were up here for Thanksgiving. You'd think we haven't visited for years."

Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "My mom's the same way. We're here to help out a member of Peter's team. Neal was..." She paused. "Have you told Joe about Neal?"

"No." In December Peter had called his father for advice in dealing with the young man who had started to think of Peter as a father figure, but he hadn't mentioned the scenario to anyone else in the family. "I hardly even know how to describe him. Brilliant, creative, mischievous. I recruited him to keep him out of a life of crime, and because he's... he's like the kid El and I would have had if we'd gone that route and if we were older. A week ago we sent him undercover in an op and he almost died. The hospital released him over the weekend, but the things that happened to him..."

"Too bad to talk about?" Joe asked. "Or is this one of those FBI need-to-know things?"

"Some of each," Peter said. "He needed to get away, and this place seemed to fit the bill. He's upstairs now talking to a therapist, Noelle Winslow. She's Henry's mom, and Neal's aunt. She terrifies all of us."

"Peter!" El admonished. "She's a lovely woman, very kind hearted. And very well suited to keeping Henry and Neal on their toes. Speaking of which," she nodded toward the front porch. "I think Henry's bringing up the second box now."

Peter opened the door for Henry and then picked up the first box, which Henry had left on the porch.

###

When Neal followed Noelle back downstairs, he was surprised to see a stranger talking to Peter. The man looked a lot like Peter, maybe ten years older. Peter introduced the newcomer as his brother Joe, who had come to check on them and replenish their supplies. Joe would be staying the night, apparently, and then heading out again in the morning.

They had hamburgers, and once again Neal was too absorbed in his own thoughts to contribute much to the dinner conversation. Everything Noelle had said in their session about the abuse being Vance's fault made sense logically. But there was still a part of Neal that felt tainted and unworthy. The idea of escaping into another identity had crossed his mind again. Even if he couldn't escape his memories, he could at least do everyone a favor by taking the ugliness away.

Noelle had insisted that running away wasn't the answer, and Peter had said much the same thing this morning, making Neal promise to keep going to therapy. Peter had sounded more like a dad than ever, and maybe it was selfish, but Neal didn't want to give that up. So he'd keep his promise and stay.

A/N: Thanks to Silbrith for brainstorming a plotline for Joe Burke to play out over several stories. With so much of Neal's family being introduced in this AU, I wanted to bring in at least one member of Peter's family. Joe has kids near Neal's age and can offer Peter advice.