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Two Months Ago…


Peter jumped when his cell phone rang. It was so quiet in his office that the sudden noise startled him. He picked up the phone and glanced at the screen. He didn't hesitate to answer when he saw Rebecca's name on the caller ID.

"Hey, Rebecca, what's up," Peter greeted her.

"Hey, Peter," Rebecca said in return. She sounded nervous.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked hesitantly.

"Well, I, um…" Rebecca started. She took a deep breath before continuing. "I just picked up Jessica from Neal's, and, um…well, I think something's wrong."

"What do you mean?" Peter questioned.

"Well, I mean, maybe it's nothing, but…I don't know, he was just acting really weird. He looked at Jessica, and he looked…sad…And I found a passport on the table, and he had a suitcase by the couch that he thought I didn't notice…Peter, I think he's going to try to run," Rebecca told him, sounding distressed.

The news put Peter on edge, because from what Rebecca was telling him, she was right. "Ok, I'll go talk to him," he said finally.

"I don't want him to get in trouble, Peter," Rebecca said firmly. "I just don't want him to do anything stupid."

"I'll talk to him," Peter repeated. "That's all."

"Thanks, Peter," Rebecca sounded relieved.

"No problem," Peter smiled. Then he hung up and got on the road…


Neal was gathering the last of his essentials when he heard a knock on the door.

"Just a second," Neal called, pushing his suitcase under the bed before walking over to the door and pulling it open. He didn't hide his surprise when he saw Peter standing in the doorway.

"Peter," he said as his friend pushed past him into the room. "What are you doing here?"

Peter looked at his friend and decided to cut to the chase. "What are you doing, Neal?"

"What do you mean?" Neal asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

"Rebecca called me," Peter explained. Neal looked defeated as he continued. "She told me what you were planning. Next time, try and hide the suitcase and passport if you don't want anyone to know."

"Yeah, that was a dumb move on my part," Neal admitted softly.

"What are you doing, Neal?" Peter repeated. "You have a good life here. You're doing great work with us, you have a family, friends, people who care about you."

"That's exactly why I was doing it!" Neal said loudly, frustrated. "Mason taught me something. If I stay here, and someone from my past, someone who might hold a grudge, finds out that I have a daughter…I can't go through that again. I can't put Rebecca and Jessica through that again."

"We can protect them, Neal," Peter began. Neal cut him off.

"Not all the time, Peter," he said with a pained expression. "You can't protect them. And if I protect them, I just put them in more danger. If I leave, they don't have any reason to go after them. I like that option."

"Did you like prison?" Peter countered. "Because you know I'd catch you, and then you'd be back in prison. For good. But, hey, you'd get to see Jessica. Granted, you'd be doing it from behind bars, but, you know, details. Is that really what you want for her, Neal?"

Neal sighed, "You know it's not."

"But you know I'd catch you," Peter said firmly.

"Yeah, I know, Peter," Neal nodded, taking a seat on the couch. "I just…I don't know what to do here…"

Peter sighed and took a seat next to him. "Look, Neal, I get it," he began. For the second time, Neal cut him off.

"No, Peter, you don't," he said softly. "You don't know what it's like to see your daughter, who you only just found out about, barely breathing, dying, because of something you did. You don't know what it's like to know that it's your fault that they were like that. You don't know what it's like to see your partner, one of your best friends, dying slowly and painfully, and know that it's your fault and you could stop it all if you could just think a little harder. And you don't know what it's like to see someone who you used to tell everything to, someone who you considered your best friend, acting like something you know deep down that he's not, because of something you did. You don't know what it's like to...to have to kill them, to know that they purposely put you in a position where they knew you would kill them, to know that you basically helped them commit suicide. You don't know what that's like. You don't get it."

Peter looked closely at Neal. "You're right," he said finally. "Even though none of what you said was your fault, you're right. I don't get it. But I can imagine. And I understand why you think you have to do this, but you don't. Trust me, we're not going to let anything happen to Rebecca or Jessica. I promise."

"How can you promise that?" Neal challenged.

Peter sighed helplessly. "Just give me a chance, ok, Neal?" he said at last. "Don't do something we're both going to regret."

Neal hesitated, then nodded. "Ok," he said finally.

Peter paused, unsure if he should leave. Finally, he stood up, deciding he was telling the truth. "If you ever need anything," he said as he reached for the door knob.

"I know who to call," Neal finished his sentence. Peter smiled, then vanished through the doorway…


Present Day


Neal walked through the park, Rebecca by his side and Jessica in between them. Attached to the leash Jessica was holding in her little hand was Shadow, Jessica's new two-month-old golden retriever puppy. It was an adorable new addition to the family, and today was Shadow's first walk. He was looking excitedly at everything and pulling at his leash.

Suddenly, Shadow somehow pulled free of his collar and took off across the stone pathway towards the big open field where some guys were playing football.

"Shadow!" Jessica cried, starting after her new friend. Neal stopped her.

"I'll go get him, sweetie. You stay with your mother," he told her, taking the leash from her hand. He didn't wait for an answer before taking off. "Shadow!" he called, weaving in and out of the crowds of people, trying to keep the little ball of yellow fur in his sights. He was so focused on the dog that he didn't notice his anklet beeping in protest as he overstepped his radius in pursuit of the fleeing canine.

Neal dashed past the football game and onto a stone path that led towards the street. With his head start, Shadow managed to stay just out of reach and evade capture as he turned off the main path and onto another smaller one. Finally, in a small alcove of the park, characterized by a stone fountain surrounded by the natural stone path, with a couple benches on either side of it, and bushes and tall grasses all around, Shadow found a patch of grass under a tree, and started rolling in it.

Neal slowed to a stop, his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. "Shadow, you're killin' me, here," he said breathlessly.

As Neal began to slow his heart rate to a manageable level and started to walk toward the playful puppy, Peter appeared on the path that lead to the street, cell phone in hand.

"Neal!" he called just as Neal scooped the puppy up in his arms. Neal turned around, and didn't bother to hide his confusion upon seeing the FBI man.

"Peter?" he said as Peter made his way over to him. "What are you doing here?"

Peter held up his phone. Displayed on the screen was Neal's tracking data. "You're outside your radius," he explained, looking at his friend suspiciously.

"Really?" Neal asked, genuinely surprised. He glanced down at his anklet, taking in the red light shining up at him. "Oops," he said at last.

"Oops?" Peter raised an eyebrow. Ever since he almost ran off two months ago, he was a little more careful about situations like this.

"Yeah, as in, sorry about that," Neal said a little sarcastically. Then his voice returned to normal. "Peter, I know what you're thinking, and I honestly didn't know I was out of bounds. I was going for a walk with Rebecca and Jessica and Shadow here," Neal looked at the squirming yellow bundle in his arms, then pulled away when the dog tried to lick his face, "got out of his collar. I volunteered to go find him, and somewhere along the way I must have overstepped my radius."

Peter studied him for a moment, then nodded, buying his story. "Come on," he said, nodding towards the path behind him. "I'll call Rebecca, have them head back to their house, and we'll meet them there."

Neal nodded quickly in agreement, still a little out of breath. "Ok, just give me a second to get Shadow situated," he said, walking over to one of the benches and setting the puppy down. Peter followed and made sure the dog stayed put while Neal tightened his collar a little bit and strapped it around his neck. The two friends were about to leave when Neal noticed some disturbance in the waist-high grasses around the fountain.

"Hey, Peter," he said. His friend turned to look at him. "Hold this," he said, handing the leash off to the agent. Then he made his way over to the tall grass, quickly discovering that there was a void in the grass. Carefully, he pushed the tall blades aside to get a better view. What he saw made him gasp.

"Peter," Neal called over his shoulder. "You need to see this."

Leash in hand, the FBI agent made his way over to where the consultant stood, peering through the grass. "Oh, God," he said softly, tightening his grip on the leash so Shadow wouldn't go any closer.

There, hidden by grass, was the bloody body of a man with a gunshot wound in his shirt.