Alright everybody! We are trying Cornered again! Yay! Made a few changes, not too many, but hopefully I'll be able to work with this edited version better than the last! Can't wait to hear from you all! And so it begins!

Chapter 1

Peter-

Peter Burke, FBI Agent, woke with a small groan, his entire body aching from the royal beating he had gotten, tied to a metal pole. He opened his eyes, squinting as he tried to spot Neal through the darkness. Alarm struck him when he couldn't see him, and as Peter tried to move, pain ripped down his side, causing his teeth to clench as he held back a howl of agony. His head twisted to the side, as he tried to figure out where Neal was, doing his best to ignore the burning sensation that ran throughout the FBI Agent's entire body.

After what seemed like hours, but what was really only a few minutes, Peter had twisted far enough around to where he could see behind him.

There! He could see Neal a few feet from him, also tied to a pole, though he was standing...barely standing.

"Neal?" Peter's voice was rough, but he didn't care. He didn't care that he was in pain right now. All he cared about was how his partner, his friend was doing. Neal didn't respond, and Peter's head jerked around at the sound of a door slamming. He squinted his eyes, trying to see who had walked in when something struck him across the side of the face. Hard.

Peter let out a gasp of surprise, his head jerking to the side from the impact. He heard a dark chuckle and could barely make out the shape of Marcus DeMyers. He glared at the other man until DeMyers started to move in Neal's direction.

"Don't touch him!" Peter's voice surprised even him, it came out in a snarl. He saw Marcus freeze and turn to glare at the FBI Agent, and Peter couldn't help but remember how he and Neal had gotten there in the first place.

Peter Burke stared at his partner and friend, Neal Caffrey. They had been working throughout the night in the conference room, not talking much, as they tried to figure out where the The Starry Night, a painting by Vincent van Gogh, that had been in the Museum of Modern Art, had disappeared to, and who had taken it. There was a small thud, which caused Peter to look up, his eyes sparking with annoyance. This was the seventy-second time Neal had made a loud noise. Peter's gaze softened slightly as he saw Neal of the ground, his eyes closed and a soft snore coming from the young man's mouth. He couldn't help but chuckle at the innocent look Neal always seemed to have on his face when he was sleeping.

Shaking his head slightly, Peter got to his feet, jacket in hand, and walked over to his partner, lightly placing the jacket on him, covering the upper part of Neal's body like a blanket. Neal stirred faintly, but didn't wake up. Peter watched Neal for few seconds before he got to his feet, stretching as he did so. A few moments later, he was back in the chair he had been sitting in. Leaning back in it, Peter placed his feet on the edge of the conference table and closed his eyes. Within seconds he was fast asleep.

(A Few Hours Later...)

Peter jerked awake, looking around in confusion when he saw he was not in his home, in his bed. His gaze came to a rest on Neal, who was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Oh, right, he was in the office. He blinked and looked at the conference table, surprised to see a pile of his clothes neatly stacked, and his gaze slid back to Neal. He blinked in surprise as he saw the young man's eyes were open, and that Neal was watching him. He opened his mouth, sitting up to find his jacket slide off him, and he gave Neal a quizzical look. He saw humor in his friend's blue gaze as the ex-con stood, smoothing out his shirt before he flashed a smile at Peter.

"Morning Peter." Neal said, running a hand through his hand.

"Morning Neal." Peter replied, then paused before continuing. "Sleep good?"

"Fine, thank you. And yourself?"

"Fine. Where did my clothes come from?" Peter asked, watching Neal closely, seeing that he was in a different change of clothes. Neal shifted to the side just barely, but Peter had caught the movement, and he guessed what had happened, but he waited for Neal to explain.

"I might have borrowed your car."

"You stole it." Peter's voice was pulled a look that made his seem all shame-faced, but as Peter watched, Neal shrugged.

"Borrowed." Neal corrected, smiling. "Anyway, I got those for you, and came back. So, it doesn't matter."

Peter rolled his eyes as he got to his feet, stretching, and grabbed the clothes before he walked out, going to go change into the fresh clothes. He appreciated Neal's effort, but the kid could be such an idiot sometimes...

Peter's thoughts were interrupted when Marcus DeMyers started laughing.

"As if you can stop me, Agent Peter Burke!" He said, laughing darkly as he began to move towards Neal again. Peter could do nothing more than watch in total horror as Marcus slapped Neal awake. The FBI Agent watched as Neal's blue eyes flew open, wide with shock. He saw something silver glint swiftly, a shocking light in the darkness of the room, and then he heard Neal let out a cry of pain and saw the young man hit the floor. Even with the dim light of the room, Peter could still see a dark stain spreading on Neal's shirt at the ex-con's shoulder.

"Neal!"

Neal-

Neal Caffrey woke to the sharp flash of pain going across his face. His blue eyes flew open, wide from the shock of the matter of being struck. He swore he saw Peter, but he didn't really have time to think about it because a sharp flash of pain crashed over him as something sharp stabbed into his shoulder.

As much as he wanted too, Neal couldn't hold back the yell of pain that escaped his lips and he fell to the ground, dimly aware that he was tied to a pole.

"Neal!" He heard someone shout. No. Not someone. Peter. His friend.

That's when everything came flooding back to him. What had happened so they had ended up in this situation in the first place.

Neal Caffrey watched Peter leave, shaking his head slightly. Peter Burke was a good friend, and a good partner, but he could be such a mom at times! Neal knew that he meant well though, and Neal couldn't hold a grudge against the man who was his best friend for too long. With a small grin, Neal picked up a stack of files that he and Peter had been going through until they had both crashed, and walked out of the conference room and over to his desk before he set them down. He stared at the top of for a long moment before he picked it up and opened it, turning around so he could lean against the edge of the desk.

The ex-con's blue gaze traveled over the paper he was looking at, and his eyes widened in surprise. The file on Marcus DeMyers had everything that he and Peter were looking for. It had the same calling card, a single bullet laying in a splash of red. What looked like blood. Neal blinked, remembering seeing the painting missing, and in its place, a card that had looked as if a bullet where on the white wall, blood splashed across it. That hadn't been the case. It had been just a card...a simple card, but it was one that sent shudders down the young man's spine.

The ex-con blinked, as he scanned the page that contained the information of Marcus DeMyers. The guy had been convicted of rape and murder of a teenage girl, the murders of 18 other people, stolen objects, like paintings and such, and much, much more. And he had escaped the prison he had been sent to. He had done so many horrible things, he had been sentenced to life in prison, and he had escaped. Wonderful.

Neal's head snapped up as he heard a faint scream, coming from downstairs. He dropped the folder and rushed out of the office, out to where the elevators were. He gave them a quick glare, knowing that they would take far too long, before he darted to the stairs and bolted down them.

He slammed into the lowest floor door and rushed into a startling scene. Elizabeth Burke, Peter's wife, was standing there, her eyes wide with fear as she stared at a man across from her. Peter was just in front of his wife, his arms spread out as if he could shield her from harm. Directly in front of Peter, stood a man, about 5' 6" tall, dark brown hair and from what Neal could see, lightly tanned skin. Neal knew who it was, what color the eyes would be, what he had done in the past, everything. He had just read the file on him.

Marcus DeMyers. And he was speaking, not noticing Caffrey was behind him, though Peter did. He gave the subtlest of a subtle shakes of his head, telling Neal 'No.'. Neal, being Neal, didn't listen. Instead he began to slowly creep forward, keeping the usual cat-like quietness to his movements. Something must have given him away however, probably the loud bang, from the door leading to the stairs, closing, because Marcus whipped his head around, fixing Caffrey with a dark look.

"One more move forward and you can kiss your partner and his wife goodbye." Marcus growled. Neal put his hands up in surrender.

"You don't want to do that." Neal said, hiding the terror he felt towards Peter and Elizabeth from Marcus.

"Oh, don't I?" Came the cruel reply.

"No, you don't. Killing an FBI Agent and his wife is a huge deal, you'll be followed everywhere you go." Neal said. Not that you won't be anyway... He thought to himself, cautiously watching Marcus. Neal paused, seeing only one way to get out of this mess with Peter and Elizabeth being safe. "You'll need a hostage to get out of this building alive..."

"Take me instead." Neal's voice was quiet as he spoke, and he saw surprise flicker in Marcus' eyes. Then Marcus' eyes hardened and he flashed a dark smile.

"How about I take both of you instead?"

Neal watched as Marcus turned, striking Peter across the head. His friend crashed to the ground while another man, who had appeared out of nowhere, grappled with Elizabeth. Neal started forward instantly, seeing Peter stir slightly and start to roll to his feet, when pain erupted on the back of his head and everything went dark.

"Peter..." He gasped out, blue eyes searching for where he had saw his friend. There he was! A vicious kick to Neal's side shut the ex-con up though. Something that sounded like a growl could be heard coming from Peter's direction.

Shut up Peter...don't make this any worse for yourself! Neal thought desperately to himself as Marcus started towards Peter.

"Leave Peter alone!" He said, though his voice was almost a whisper. Neal watched Marcus turn and give Neal the oddest look ever. Something like a cross between humor and shock, before the con man turned and walked passed Peter, muttering to himself.

"I'll be back to..." That was all Neal and Peter heard before the door Marcus DeMyers had walked through, slammed shut, cutting off the con man's voice.

He'll be back to what?