A/N: Read the authors note at the bottom of the page for warnings.. though it will kinda ruin the whole thing for you. No slash. Please R&R! Oh btw, Matt Bomer calls the tracking anklet Candy so I borrowed the name :P
Disclaimer: White Collar doesn't belong to me, neither do its characters. I still don't know why Neal isn't mine, though. Maybe that's why I love causing him pain in my fics. MUAHAHA!
This story hasn't been beta-ed, all mistakes are mine. Please feel free to point them out.
Cheers erupted in the bullpen as the clock struck midnight and Peter removed 'Candy' from around Neal's ankle. His CI's four years were up, Neal was finally free. He tousled his young partners hair fondly, a proud smile on his face as he pulled Caffrey in for a hug. Both of them holding each other tightly for a few seconds, they had made it. Four years ago, the mere idea that the two men would be so close would have been scoffed at. Now, they were almost inseparable. Neal being the son he never had and Peter filling in the role of Neal's father figure, who the younger man had always craved. They parted after their hug, arms slung around each other and eyes suspiciously bright with happiness as the people in Neal's 'Finally free' party gave in to a unified 'awww!' of delight and applause broke out once again.
No one heard the shot fired by the sniper on the opposite building. The bullet whizzed past the people in the bullpen, agents and civilians alike, and hit its target. Neal stumbled, a smile still on his face as blood began to blossom on his pristine white shirt. Peter caught his partner as he swayed, lowering him to the ground as blood continued to spurt from his partners chest.
There was so much blood. It was too much not to be a fatal wound but Peter quickly removed his jacket and pressed it against Neal's chest. The smile had left his partners face; his usually bright, alert eyes turning glassy as pain hit him and he gasped desperately for breath. Time had frozen for Peter as he gasped out empty platitudes, ignoring the tears streaming down his face as he tried to stem the flow of the red, life-giving liquid draining rapidly out of Neal's body.
"'ts 'kay." Neal gasped out, using the last of the air in his lungs to try to comfort Peter, weakly grabbing his partners arm where it pressed against his chest.
"Hang on, Neal. You're going to be fine."
"Srry." Neal slurred, his body convulsing before going slack. Peter felt his heart shatter as his best friends weak grip on his arm loosened, hand falling limply to his side. Neal's eyes were frozen forever in pain, glassy blue locked on to agonized brown. Neal caffrey was dead.
A/N: Okay, so I thought I'd venture into the world of extreme h/c and ended up with a death! Fic. Feedback is much appreciated. Maybe I'll write another chapter..? Suggestions are welcome! And I know you totally hate me for killing off poor Neal but this just wrote itself!