I want to write a book someday so please give me whatever feedback would make my story better, Please review so I could die happy by having Mozzie's banana knife fall on me:)

SET AFTER SEASON 4 FINALE

"Okay how is this fair?" Peter asked tugging at the thick black tracker around his ankle as if it would disappear.

"I get my own stylish anklet two days after yours is taken off. He complained gesturing to Neal's bare ankle.

"It looks like the shoe is on the other foot, doesn't it?" Neal said leaning back in the lawn chair.

"You got two miles; I have my house and about half my front yard."

"Good thing were in the good half of your yard." Neal told him glancing at the Burk house.

Neal looked at Peter seriously wiping the informal tone away. "I'm really sorry Peter, I was the one who asked you to help prove my dad innocent by going to the empire state building and getting the box, this is all my f…"

"Don't you even try to finish that sentence." Peter warned sternly giving Neal a hard look.

Neal said nothing for a few moments, instead just staring off at the setting sun in peace. "My four years are up." He finally said.

Peter nodded his face slightly questioning "I know, that's why I'm suffering through temporary Bail without an ankle pen pal until my hearing while you go Willy Nilley wherever you want.

Neal nodded, "I'm leaving Peter" He said after a few moments not meeting Peter's eyes.

Peter sat in silence too shocked to reply, a thousand thoughts raced through his mind all at once. Why would Neal leave now, with all that's happened, with all that's he's been through. Why now?

Peter was vaguely aware of Neal once again talking urgently to him, his tone had changed serious.

"Is Elizabeth home?" He asked concerned

Peter shook his head confused "She's at work why?"

Neal didn't reply, instead he jerked his head towards a windowless cleaning van that had just pulled up on the other side of the street, directly across from them.

"Some people need their carpets cleaned Neal, it isn't anything to get excited about." Peter told Neal numbly still processing what Neal had just told him.

"How many cleaning companies have fake license plates?" Neal responded without missing a beat.

Peter glanced at it "You sure?" He asked setting his question aside when Neal gave him a strange look. "Or course you are." Peter reminded himself.

"On three we run into the house." Peter commanded earning himself a feint nod from Neal.

"One." The vans doors slid open

"Three" yelled Neal as a man stepped out with the distinct outline of a gun in his hand.

The two of them jumped up from the lawn chairs and frantically dashed to Peters open back door. As Neal tried to slam it shut a quiet echoing hiss ripped through the neighborhood.

Neal jumped back as Peter rushed to shut the sliding glass door. He turned to see his partner… ex-partner? Swaying unsteadily on his feet. Lodged in his thigh was a tranquillizer dart. Peter cussed as he rushed over to pull it out. Dropping it carelessly on the floor, as he studied his friends face.

"We have to check the… the floors?" Neal asked confused.

"That's doors buddy, but those men have guns, a locked piece of glass isn't going to stop them, we need to get upstairs." He grabbed Neal's T- shirt and pushed him forward, dragging Neal up the stairs. Halfway up Neal started to stumble and two steps later he almost fell on his face. Peter grabbed Neal's wrists and hauled his friend over his shoulder literally carrying him up the stairs.

Peter rushed to his and Elle's bedroom gently unloading Neal at the foot of the bed. Before he went to secure the room.

"You should use your gun." Neal told Peter as he came back over.

"They took it away when I was arrested. It is the murder weapon in a homicide against Senator Pratt. Why on earth would they let me keep it when they don't even trust me to leave my house?" Peter asked amazed until he remembered Neal was practically high.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" He asked worried.

"Three." Neal slurred, "But you have four arms."

"Good god Neal," This is why you are never allowed to get drunk, high or drugged.

"But I just got drunk a month ago on that fake wine case." Neal reminded him while staring intensely at Peter's hands.

"Because you were civil and it was fun to see you with a hangover." Peter said distracted as he looked out the window, the sky had turned black by now making it impossible to see outside. But Peter figured out their plan a second before the lights went out.

Peter stumbled around blindly in the dark as he fumbled for Caffery, pulling him close to his chest and covering his mouth with his hand.

"Stay awake Neal," He commanded in a whisper as an earsplitting crack shook the room. Peter pulled them both to the side of the bed hiding from the bright penetrating flash light that was slowly entering the room, no doubt from one of the van's goons. Peter had no doubt that there were more men searching throughout the house but it was their luck that only one was searching the master bedroom.

Peter's hand grasped a heavy book as his free one pulled Caffery's arm over his shoulder. Avoiding the flashlight as if it were a prison watch light Peter crept towards the man.

He could see the man's outline from the dim discharge of the flashlight, casting unrealistic shadows over his face. Prayer Neal would keep silent Peter lunged towards the man, dropping Neal as he covered the Man's mouth as the book's corner collided with his skull. It certainly wasn't the proudest thing Peter Burke had ever done but it somehow got the job done.

He grabbed the man's flashlight and spun it crazily to re-find his drugged up former CI. To his surprise Neal who seemed to have found an extra burst of sanity grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room, while silencing their flashlight.

However it didn't take long for Peter to realize Neal was fading fast. They had barley gotten three steps out of the room when Neal's legs gave way and he crashed into the wall. All Peter's hopes of having got the tranquilizer out in time were sufficiently crushed. To make matters worse every thug in the whole neighborhood seemed to hear Neal's fall. Which was unfortunate considering every thug in the neighborhood was in his house.

Peter tried to pull Neal back to his feet but it was no use, Neal was as good as a sack of flour now. A flurry of what must have been nearly a dozen flashlights flashed around them like fireworks.

Peter dove down and pulled Neal close to him feeling his friend's shutters as he tried to fight sleep. Nearly blinded by the flurry Peter heard a bone snapping crack as something hard connected with Neal's rib causing his grip to loosen on Peter.

Peter yelled as he saw a blurry shadow grab Neal's waist and violently pull away. A small flare of pride went through Peter as he saw Neal kick the man holding him, but it quickly died as two men grabbed his legs. Peter in turn kept his hand firmly around Neal's chest as three sets of hands tried to hold him in place.

Peter knew he had lost when at last Neal had stopped moving. Leaving the men to drag him away while the remainder dealt with Peter, his eyes fixated on Neal's still form. Until he felt an immense pain at the back of his head and the darkness faded into pitch black.

Please Review And I know I need to work on my sentence structure.