Disclaimer- I do not claim to own White Collar, White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA. Also, this is my first fanfiction writing experience, cut me some slack if I am not as good as some of the others, I'm sure I'll get better with time, and I would love to hear what you have to say about my stories. Thanks. :)
Trapped
Chapter 1
Neal-
Neal Caffrey's breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he fled from the two men following him.
Breathe Neal.
The words of Neal's friend and partner flickered in his mind. He sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment, trying to slow his heart rate so his breathing would return to normal. He let out his breath as he turned the corner, and froze, staring at the handgun that was aimed at his face. He backed up a couple of steps, only to collide with the two men who had been following, no, herding him.
"Where is Agent Peter Burke?" The person in front of Neal, a female, spoke to the men behind the young man, her eyes, and gun, never leaving his face.
"Don't know." Came the reply, and Neal was glad he had insisted that Peter go home to spend time with his wife, something he didn't have enough time to do now-a-days because of Neal. It wasn't right, not fair, so Neal had insisted Peter go home, and after much arguing, Peter had eventually given in and driven away, Neal waving a goodbye to him before he started walking. He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts as the girl stepped forward, the gun now pointed and pressing against Neal's chest.
"Where is Agent Peter Burke?" This time, the question was directed to him. The young man's blue eyes narrowed as he glared at the girl. He would not betray his friend. Not to her, not to anyone. Never. The young man's eyes flashed defiance and he lifted his head, holding it high.
"Nothing you can do can make me say." He replied, his voice was cold as he addressed the girl. His only concern right now was the safety of his friend and his friend's wife. His own safety was in the very back of his mind. The girl's eyes narrowed and she flashed a dangerous smile.
"Pity. We could have used you, but we don't need you." She said, before the report of a gun sounded. Neal swayed, before he collapsed to the ground, a red stain spreading across his shirt.
"Leave him." He heard the girl say, laughing as she did so. "So much for the great Neal Caffrey." She sneered, still laughing, leaving with her companions after she made sure Caffrey wouldn't be able to get up anytime soon. Soon, Neal Caffrey's mind swirled into darkness.
Neal? Neal!
Peter-
Peter had been driving home, and was almost there, when he started feeling extremely anxious. He had a bad feeling from the moment he had left Neal. It seemed like whenever he left the young man, harm came to his friend and partner, and now he had the feeling of pure dread strike him.
He's an adult Peter, he can take care of himself. He thought to himself sternly, though he was not able to shake the feeling of unease. Within a few minutes, his phone started ringing.
"Burke." He said, answering the phone. His face paled slightly. "Where was his last location?" Peter nodded and hung up, only to make a phone call to his wife, Elizabeth Burke. He got her voice mail. "Hey honey. I'm going to be late. Think Caffrey is in some sort of trouble. Love you. Bye." He clicked the end button and tossed his phone down, beginning the drive back to where he had left Neal.
(Half an hour later...)
Peter slammed the car door and began to walk up the darkened road, his eyes scanning the deserted alleyway. According to Jones, Neal had been here last, and so Peter looked for any signs of Neal and if he was still there. His foot nudged something, and he bent to pick it up. It was Neal's favorite fedora! He had been here! Peter looked around, and there, in the shadows, he spotted a figure laying on the ground, a pool of blood surrounding him. He let out a gasp and rushed over. It was Neal. He saw his friend's eyes roll up into the back of his head and he watched as Neal went totally limp, his face pale white, at the same time, he cried out.
"Neal? Neal!" Peter yelled, phone in hand as frantically dialed 9-1-1.
"9-1-1, state your emergency."
"My friend has been shot in the chest. He's unconscious, I'm not sure how long he has been injured like this...there's so much blood everywhere..." Peter's voice was pitched with fear and worry.
"Alright sir, calm down and give me your location." Peter gave the location, though he did not calm down as he threw the phone aside, placing both hands on the wound, trying to stop the flow of blood. His heart was pounding as he watched in horror as Neal's lips tinted blue. Peter heard sirens, announcing the ambulances arrival.
"Don't die on me Neal...wake up...wake up Neal!" Peter's voice was hushed from his terror, his hands shaking as a paramedic joined him at his side, checking Neal's vital signs.
"No pulse and he isn't breathing!" The paramedic yelled, starting to perform CPR on Neal as an icy wave of shock anf fear washed through Peter. He blinked, trying to get through the numbing shock that was clouding his mind, unaware or the wetness that was spilling from his eyes.
Neal can't be dead! He can't be! I don't want another partner, I want Neal! He thought frantically, his mouth opening. "Come back Neal!" His voice was like a growl.
"CLEAR!" Peter blinked. He hadn't noticed other paramedics had brought a defibrillator and were using it on his friend. "CLEAR!"
Peter watched as Neal's body jerked, and his hand twitched, clenching into a fist.
"We have a pulse! His heartbeat is irregular though, we have to get him out of here...and quickly!" The paramedic cried, and within minutes, Neal was in the ambulance. Peter rose to his feet quickly and dashes after Neal and the paramedic, scrambling inside the ambulance just before the door closed. The paramedic glared at Peter, but he didn't care. Neal was his partner, his friend, he was like a son to him.
"I'm going with him." Peter said, his voice firm, his eyes steady until the paramedic sighed unhappily but nodded his acceptance. Then his gaze slid to Neal, and he noticed that his friend's forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat, causing his hair to stick to his forehead. He reminded Peter of an innocent child, and once again, he was glad that Neal hadn't cracked like so many other cons had. Some had gone insane, others had killed themselves, and others just plotted for revenge...not Neal though, he understood people. He was a fighter, and good at what he did, both the bad from his past and the good from the present. He saw Neal's hand shift, and grip his hand lightly, tapping out a message he recognized to be in Morse Code.
P-E-T-E-R
Then, Peter watched as Neal's hand went limp, falling to his side as the young man fell unconscious.
Note- I'd love to hear what you have to say about this. Did I do good? Bad? Ok? Do you want me to work on anything? Find anything stupid? Please tell me what you truly think, both good or bad.
