AN: Ok, here's my new story! There's not much to it yet, but I will continue it, and will even faster with reviews. Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own white collar.

I would like to thank ItzAGoodThing for betaing my story!

"Do you think we lost them?" Peter asked as he peeked around the tree they were hiding behind.

"Hope so, though they don't have very good aim," Neal said, looking at the arrow that was sticking out of his thigh.

"Seriously? They hit you!"

"Yes, but I'm pretty sure they were aiming to kill," Neal said, tapping his head with a finger and smiling at Peter.

Peter just sighed. How they ended up running -or hiding as it may be- for their lives from a bunch of smugglers/hunters in a forest way out of Neal's radius he doesn't know, but he knew they were in trouble.

He looked at the wound, it was bleeding slowly, but it will get worse once the arrows out. Peter unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops.

"Lift up your leg," Peter said and Neal lifted his left leg. "Your other leg, smart ass."

Neal sighed and slowly bent his right leg by the knee. He moaned and winced. Peter wrapped the belt around Neal upper thigh and tightened it enough to slow the blood flow to the appendage.

"Ok! Ok! I'll talk!"

Neal tried to joke, but Peter knew it would only get worse. He looked back at the arrow. "You know we have to get that thing out, right?"

Neal looked at Peter with absolute horror and shook his head. "Uh, no. Not gonna happen; no way," Neal said defiantly.

"You can't walk around like that."

"I don't think I could walk around if you pull it out, either."

"Well, we still need to get the arrow out."

"It's not an arrow," Neal said knowingly.

"Well if it's not an arrow, then what is it?"

"It's a bolt. They're for crossbows. They're shorter."

"How do you even know that?" Peter asked, looking at the bolt, then back to Neal.

"One of my friends may or may not have needed to know about that kind of thing to help him earn the respect of a client that liked to hunt. Allegedly."

"One of your friends? Right," Peter said then looked at Neal."You're stalling," Peter accused and started to move closer to Neal.

"No, don't! I want to keep it!" Neal said, obviously lying, and put a hand around the bolt without touching it.

"No, you don't. Now hold still and lie down."

"How can I lie down if I'm holding still?"

"Neal..." Peter said in a threatening tone.

"Ok, fine, but I'm not lying down," Neal said and resisted moving away when Peter moved closer.

He picked up a stick and put it in Neal's hand. "Bite that."

"Ew, no," Neal said, then looked at the stick with concern. "Wait, why?"

Peter sighed and said, "It'll help with the pain… and the noise."

"Oh," Neal said quietly and tried to brush off the dirt off the stick and put it in his mouth.

Peter positioned himself on one side of Neal. He put a hand below the wound and the other held the bolt. "Ready?" Neal just shook his head in a negative, looking at Peter with fearful eyes.

Peter had to look away. "Sorry..." He muttered and pulled on the bolt.

Neal screamed, muffled by the stick he was biting down on and gripped the leaves and dirt on the ground with his hands. The pain was excruciating, going up and down his leg every time Peter pulled. He couldn't help but yell out every time the pain was too much, but stayed as still as he could.

After what felt like an eternity, the bolt came out. "Ok, I got it."

Neal took the stick out of his mouth. He was panting and sweating. Just when Neal thought it was over, Peter pressed down on the wound to stem the bleeding. Neal let out a cry of pain and surprise and looked down at his thigh. It was bleeding a lot more than before, but Peter's hands -and what he realized was Peter's hat- seemed to be helping.

"Don't do that again," Neal said breathlessly.

"Well then, don't get shot next time."

"Duly noted," Neal said, paying only half attention. His eyes suddenly felt very heavy, but kept them open as much as he could. He looked at his leg again and had to look away. There was a lot of blood, a lot more than the last time he looked. "That's a lot of blood."

"Yeah, but it's slowing down," Peter said and repositioned himself again and Neal whimpered and the world went sideways, then slowly went black.

AN: when Neal mentions his friend it was a reference to 'what happens in Burma' when Neal called his alliasas friends. Thanks for reading!