Hey! This is my first White Collar story, so tell me if anyone is out of character! All criticism is welcome(:

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Peter's eyes flew open, though he saw nothing in the room's darkness. Listening intently, Peter heard what must of woken him up in the first place. Heavy footsteps came from downstairs, seemingly from the kitchen if he had to guess. Peter slid out of the bed and grabbed his gun from the nightstand. It couldn't be Elizabeth grabbing a glass of water; she was visiting her sister in Connecticut for a few days.

Peter raised his gun in front of him, waiting a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before moving out of the bedroom. He crept quietly, avoiding all of the steps he knew creaked. Reaching the landing, Peter held his breath as he turned towards the kitchen. He saw a shadowy figure standing by his window, peeking through the curtain to his backyard.

"Freeze!" Peter commanded, sounding much calmer than he felt. The intruder jumped at his sudden shout and spun around quickly. "Show me your hands!"

"C'mon Peter, I thought we were closer than that."

Peter furrowed his brows and gripped tighter to the gun, which he had trained on the stranger. But he swore he knew that voice. He wracked his brain for who it belonged to. Then it came to him. "Caffrey?"

"I'm offended that it took you that long to recognize me. Now, we can have a much nicer conversation if you pointed that gun somewhere else."

Peter came forward slowly and flipped on the kitchen light, his gun unwavering. "I thought you were better than this, Caffrey. Sneaking into a feds house? And not doing a very good job of it, either. Are you always this noisy on heists?"

Neal raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sudden flood of light. "It's been fun catching up, but I really don't have time for this. We really don't have time for this. Let's go."

Okay, now Peter was seriously confused. Sure, him and Neal had been in contact multiple times, as the con was so fond of teasing him during their games of cat and mouse. But this was something else entirely. He had done a horrible job sneaking in, and Peter knew from experience that Neal could do much better than that. He had agonized over enough hours of security tapes to know that. Finally taking in Neal's appearance, Peter noted his bruised face, disheveled hair, and ripped suit.

"Go where?" he questioned. "And what happened to you?"

"No time. C'mon," Neal said, turning toward the back door and opening it slightly, peering out carefully.

"Unless we're going to my office, I don't think so. You may send my wife flowers on her birthday, but you are still under arrest."

Neal sighed in frustration. "Men are coming to kill you. I'd rather not be here when they arrive. Let's go." With that, Neal deemed the backyard safe and slipped outside. Now even more confused than before, Peter followed, wishing he had grabbed his cuffs too. But Neal would have just picked them anyway.

Outside, the full moon illuminated the yard in a pale, feeble light. Neal stalked across the grass and, looking back, motioned for Peter to follow him. He certainly couldn't turn around and go back to bed, especially if Neal wasn't actually lying about the men who were coming. Gun still raised, Peter followed Neal across the yard and to the next block over. Neal slid into the driver's seat of a black car, expensive and definitely stolen.

Peter stood in the middle of the street, gripping his gun and undecided. Getting into a car with a criminal wanted by the FBI was on the top of the list of idiotic things to do. But, he had been chasing Neal long enough to know that he was nonviolent. Also, according to him, there were people on their way to his house to kill him. Whether Peter believed him or not, he still had to arrest him. He couldn't just let Neal drive away. Peter was armed and therefore had the upper hand, so, with his base instincts screaming at him, he crossed the street and climbed into the passenger seat.

As soon as Peter shut the door, Neal sped away at a speed that was way higher than any residential neighborhood would allow. "Neal, slow down!" Peter berated, gripping the armrest and suddenly regretting his decision.

Neal ignored him and continued his ridiculous speed for another full minute or two before slowing down to a less conspicuous pace. Once they were away from Peter's house and not doing 90 mph, Neal breathed a sigh of relief and took a hand off of the wheel to cradle his ribs.

Peter took a moment to really scrutinize the con. The cool composure he had come to associate Neal Caffrey with seemed to be cracking, showed by his wide, slightly panicked eyes and deflated posture. His usually impeccable appearance was also not up to par. He had bags under his eyes, which only accentuated the bruise that snaked over his left cheek and around his eye. The way he was holding his body suggested cracked, or even broken ribs. Peter narrowed his eyes. "Caffrey, what the hell is going on? Give me some real answers," he demanded.

Neal glanced over at him, crafting his face into a classic Caffrey smile that Peter didn't quite believe. "Well, I would have expected a thank you for saving your life. But fine, I'm not petty."

Peter glared at him. "Stop deflecting and pull this car over right now," he growled through clenched teeth.

Neal took an inventory of their surroundings and reluctantly pulled the car over. "Yes, Agent?" he asked sarcastically.

"First of all, who wants me dead and why do you know about it?"

"Technically, those are two questions, so you should have said firstly and secondly."

"Caffrey!"

"Fine," he huffed, before visibly dropping his bravado. "Jax wants you dead."

Peter's eyes widened. "Jax? As in David Jax?" Neal nodded. "Okay, but that only answered one of the questions."

"Peter, I thought we both had established by now that I'm not stupid."

Peter sighed. "Okay, so you were definitely involved in Jax's illegal activity. But you're still under arrest for bond forgery, so what's a little icing on the cake going to do?"

Neal snorted. "Sure, whatever you say. If you want me to drop you off at the Bureau so you can be put in a safe house with your wife or something, let's go. But I'm sure as hell not coming."

"Excuse me, but who's the federal agent in the car right now?"

"I have a few fake badges that beg to differ-"

"Caffrey!"

"Allegedly of course. But really, Peter, I just saved your life and you're going to turn me in? Is that how you want your win?"

Peter sat in silence for a moment. His brain told him to force Neal into custody as soon as possible, since he was never one for the gray spots in life. But it did feel wrong. What if Neal actually had just saved his life, and had gotten thrown in jail in return? Neal wasn't a violent criminal. It didn't excuse his actions by a long shot, but he wasn't a murderer. That had to mean something.

During his continued silence, Neal sighed again and then switched into his smug expression. It disturbed Peter how easily the transition was made. "Alright," Neal said. "I'll drive to your office and there you can do your little agent stuff." Neal pulled out back onto the road and turned towards the Bureau.

"Say I do let you go," Peter said eventually. "What happens to you?" Neal looked straight forward, and nothing in his expression gave a hint that he had heard Peter, though he must have.

"Damn it, Caffrey. You'll get killed for this, won't you?"

Neal still didn't answer, but his increase in speed was as good an answer as any.

"Christ," Peter muttered, and suddenly slammed a fist against the dashboard. Neal flinched, his veneer breaking further. "This is a mess," Peter seethed.

He had no idea what to do. He could go to the office and turn Neal in, screwing him over. He could go to the office and let Neal leave, screwing him over. Or there was the third option. Peter rubbed his forehead. It was too early for his conscience to have this battle.

"Pull over," Peter muttered, and Neal complied without protest. He was gripping the steering wheel with a fist so tight that his knuckles were completely white. Other than that, he managed to appear calm. Peter was smarter than that though. The kid was terrified. He sighed, making his decision.

"You stuck your neck out for me, I'll stick my neck out for you. Tell me everything."

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Thanks for reading!