Chapter Text
Appearance
Neal's never had someone who could match him before.
When he was a kid, there were kids who were bigger and smarter than him, and the teachers were adults, and so was his mother, but it wasn't the same. The teachers didn't know what to do with Neal Caffrey; his mother knew how to soothe bumps and bruises or tell fairy-tales about his father, but he knew early on, somehow, that she didn't have any instinctive understanding of her child. He didn't blame her. She loved him, cared for him, did what she could, but it was like they spoke two slightly different languages.
The kids who were bigger couldn't run as fast as Neal; the few kids who were smarter weren't as sneaky. And Neal, knowing how casually children betray one another, knowing his mother didn't understand and his teachers were confused, spent his childhood with the painful knowledge that he had no-one to trust but himself. (Justified by girlfriends who dumped him, boys who wouldn't be seen in public with him, teachers who grew frustrated with him, and his mother's single great lie. He'd thought he could trust his father, given he was dead and all, but apparently not.)
Mozzie was close, but it was apples and oranges. Both of them were crazy but in significantly different ways, and Mozzie was a pragmatist where Neal was a romantic. Mozzie didn't understand fundamental things about the way Neal worked. Being fair, Neal didn't understand Mozzie sometimes, either.
Kate...he loved her, but Kate was never going to be as good a grifter as Alex, let alone Neal. Knowing he stole her, Neal can admit he may sometimes have treated her more like a belonging than a person, and Kate left him because she wouldn't stand for that -- nor should she have. He loved Kate, but he had no reason to have faith in her. After all, she'd left a man for him; why wouldn't she leave him for someone else?
But Peter is different. Peter found Neal, caught him, stole him from Kate in a way. Neal offered Peter his hand that day as a rare gesture; Peter might not see it that way, but Neal was giving him status as an equal. And maybe Peter did understand, because when he shook Neal's hand his gaze was steady, grip firm. Unafraid, confident, comfortable as the winner of the game.
Peter is as close to being Neal's equal as he has ever let anyone come. But still Neal can't trust him, and he knows Peter can't trust him.
Why should he, after all?