"Friends bring out the best in you."
~Larry Ramirez
Peter sat in his office, going over case files, the moonlight streaming in from the windows. They had just solved a case that had taken them over a week to riddle out.
"Peter," Peter looked up as Neal poked his head into his office. "Jones, Diana, and I are gonna go out for some beers to celebrate. You in?"
Peter hesitated, considering. Then he shook his head. "Nah, I should get home. El will be home in an hour or two, and I want to be there when she gets home for once."
"You sure?" Neal asked. Again, Peter paused. He looked his partner over. He showed no signs of the trauma that had nearly claimed his life only five months earlier. The cast on his arm was gone, his bones had healed, and he was back to his old self, charming, sarcastic, funny, and damn good at what he did.
"Yeah, I'm sure," Peter said finally. "I'll walk out with you, though." Peter stood up and turned off the lamp on his desk, then he, Neal, Jones, and Diana left the building together.
Peter separated from the group in the parking lot. Neal hitched a ride with Jones to the bar, and Diana followed them close behind. Meanwhile, Peter set off for home. He pulled into the driveway fifteen minutes later and headed inside, locking the car behind him.
As soon as he closed the front door behind him, he knew something was wrong. Satchmo didn't come to greet him like he always did when he came home. Peter flicked on the light and found his dog curled up in the middle of the living room.
"Hey Satch," Peter said, tossing his keys and briefcase onto the couch and slowly walking toward the dog. "Something wrong, boy?" Peter knelt down next to Satchmo and scratched him behind his ears. The dog didn't even react. He wasn't moving at all. "Satch?" Peter asked nervously. Just then, he heard the metallic click of a gun behind his head. He froze.
"Don't worry, Peter," The voice made Peter's blood run cold. "He's only sleeping. I would never actually kill a dog. Only a monster could do that."
"Well, don't sell yourself short, Mason," Peter said, slowly standing up and turning around. Mason had the gun aimed steadily at Peter's head. "I'd say you still fall into that category. After all, you did try to murder an eight-year-old girl."
Mason smirked slightly. "You know, I like you, Peter," he said sincerely. "You're honest." Peter simply shrugged. They were quiet for a moment. "You're going to come with me, Peter. Now."
"Oh am I?" Peter chuckled.
"Yes," Mason said matter-of-factly. "And you want to know why?"
"Enlighten me," Peter said with a smile.
"Because your wife will be home soon," Mason said with a smirk. "And I know you don't want anything to happen to her."
Peter's smile faded. His fist clenched at his side and his jaw set. And Mason knew he had him. Mason nodded and gestured towards the door with the gun.
"Grab your keys," Mason commanded. Peter did as he was told, and the two of them made their way back outside to Peter's car. Peter climbed into the front seat, and Mason got in right behind him. Peter had no doubt that he had the gun aimed at his spine through the seat.
On Mason's command, Peter started the car and pulled into the street. Before long, he had taken him away from the city, along winding back roads that Peter hadn't even known existed. Finally, they reached a small, run-down, abandoned house and Mason told Peter to kill the engine and get out of the car. Peter hesitated, then got out and faced his captor. Mason paused, as if thinking of something.
"Give me your cell phone," he said finally. Peter paused, trying to keep the defeated look from his eyes. Then he reached into his jacket pocket and drew out his cell phone, handing it over to Mason. He took it and shoved it into his jeans pocket, then motioned for Peter to head inside. Peter slowly made his way into the house, all too aware of the gun aimed at the back of his head.
Once inside, Mason forced Peter toward the far wall of the main room. The plumbing was exposed. The whole place was falling apart. They only furniture in the place was a cot in the corner, a small table, a small dresser, a chair, and a surprisingly new TV on top of the dresser. Peter had just enough time to process all this before Mason stepped forward and slammed the gun into the back of his head. Peter grunted in pain and fell to the floor, out cold…
Neal got home around midnight, exhausted and not quite drunk, but definitely slightly tipsy. He had just collapsed onto his bed when his cell phone rang. He groaned and grabbed it from the bedside table, quickly answering the call.
"Hello?" he said softly.
"Hey, Neal, it's El," Elizabeth's voice was clear from the other end of the line. She sounded worried. Neal sat up in bed, suddenly on edge. "Is Peter with you? I thought he would be back by now."
"Ah, no, no…he said he was going home and then I went out for a few drinks with Jones and Diana," Neal explained.
"He's not answering his phone," El said, her voice growing more and more strained.
"I'm sure he's fine, El. I bet he went back to the office to go over more case files and has his phone on silent or something," Neal said reassuringly.
"Maybe…" El sighed.
"Just give it till morning. If he's not there by then, then you can freak out and call in the National Guard. I'll even help. Ok?" Neal said softly.
El laughed, "Ok. Goodnight, Neal. I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight," Neal sighed. Then he hung up, rolled over, and quickly fell asleep…
Neal woke up the next morning to find the sun shining down on him through his window. Wow… Neal thought, glancing at the clock next to his bed. It was already eight in the morning. I get to sleep in with no FBI interruption? That's a first…
Neal rolled over and bolted upright in surprise, his heart racing.
"Jeez, Jessi, you scared me," Neal smiled. The little girl laughed, her blue eyes sparkling. Neal held out his arms and Jessica climbed up into the bed, giving her dad a hug. "How did you get in here?"
"June let us in," Neal looked over to see Rebecca leaning against the wall, smiling at them. "We wanted to surprise you."
"I lost my tooth, Daddy," Jessica said excitedly, showing off the gap where her upper right canine tooth used to be.
"You did," Neal said with a smile. "Did you put it under your pillow for the Tooth Fairy?"
"Mhmm, and I got a whole dollar!" Jessica said excitedly.
"Wow!" Neal laughed. "A whole dollar?"
"Yeah, see?" Jessica pulled a dollar bill out of her pocket and held it up to him.
Neal took it from her and looked at it, still grinning. "Wow, that is so cool," he said enthusiastically, making Jessica smile wider. Neal handed the dollar back to her, and she shoved it back in her pocket.
"And guess what," Jessica said excitedly, bouncing up and down on the bed.
"What?" Neal said eagerly, acting like a child himself.
"Mommy said we might get a puppy!" Jessica squealed, clapping her hands.
"Really?" Neal asked in surprise, looking at Rebecca. She simply shrugged.
"She's been asking for a long, long time. I finally gave in," she explained. Neal nodded in understanding.
"Hey, Jessi, why don't you and Mommy go wait downstairs and I'll get dressed and call Peter and see if we can't go to the park," Neal smiled.
"Ok!" Jessica said excitedly, bouncing off the bed and running over to Rebecca. She took Rebecca's hand, waved goodbye to Neal, and then Rebecca led her downstairs.
Neal slid off the bed and onto his feet, rubbing his eyes. He grabbed his cell phone off the bedside table, only to find that sometime during the night the battery had died. He plugged it into the charger and turned it on. As it powered up, he started to get changed into a suit, getting ready for the day. When he was done, he returned to his phone. There was a message on the screen: "You have 27 missed calls."
Neal looked at the message strangely. Just then, there was a knock on his door. He hesitated, then walked over to the door and pulled it open. He was surprised to see Jones standing in the doorway. When he saw Neal, he looked relieved.
"Neal," he sighed. "Thank God."
"Jones?" Neal asked, confused. "What's going on?"
"Why didn't you answer your phone?" Jones asked instead of answering his question.
"The battery died," Neal explained. "Why? What happened?"
"Peter's missing," Jones said breathlessly.
Neal's eyes widened. "What?"
"That's not all," Jones continued. "Mason took him. We found his prints in Peter's house."
Neal felt like he just got punched in the stomach. "M-Mason…?" he stuttered. He had hoped he had seen the last of his former friend at the soccer field five months ago. But no, he was back. Suddenly, he felt his heart race. His brain told him Rebecca and Jessica were fine, but his heart told him to go find them. He pushed past Jones into the hallway without a word and jogged downstairs. "Rebecca?" He called. He found them in the foyer, sitting on the couch.
"Daddy!" Jessica said happily when she saw Neal come into the room.
"Hey, Jessi," Neal smiled, relieved, even though he knew all along that they were fine. Jones walked in behind him as Neal sat down beside his daughter. "Listen, Jones and I have to go, ok?"
Jessica looked defeated. "Why?"
"Well, sweetie, um…I have to go find Peter," Neal explained.
Jessica immediately perked up. "Are you playing hide and seek?" She asked excitedly.
Neal laughed slightly, and behind him, Jones smiled. "Yeah," Neal confirmed. "We're playing hide and seek, and it's my turn to be it."
"Can I play?" Jessica asked eagerly.
Neal smiled slightly. "Maybe next time, kiddo," he said, smoothing back her hair. He pulled her into a hug, while Rebecca gave Neal a knowing glance. Finally, Neal pulled away. "Mommy's going to take you home, ok? I'll see you soon."
"Ok, Daddy," Jessica agreed. She and Rebecca stood up and headed out the door. Neal watched them drive away, and then he climbed into Jones' car.
Once they were alone, Neal turned to Jones. "Jones, I–" he began. Jones cut him off.
"I already sent a unit over to their house. It should be there before they get back," Jones informed him. Neal let out a sigh.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
"Don't mention it," Jones shrugged, starting the car and driving off…