Can't breath

Chapter one

- He walked into the office a few paces behind peter. Peter... His leash... The man keeping him from finding Kate... Kate... his love... His other half... Neal just wished that he knew who the man with the ring was. Maybe if he knew then he could figure out what he wanted so he could get Kate back. But he didn't and all he could do was pretend that he was getting over Kate and that it didn't hurt every day that he didn't have her.

- he sat down at his desk ignoring the wary looks that people still shot his way. He needed a distraction and, thankfully, there was a pile of paperwork on his desk just waiting for him. For once he was thankfully for the paperwork end of a case. With a sigh he grabbed the first file and started right in.

- Peter looked up from his desk where he had been since coming in at 4:00. Neal was busy down at his desk finishing up another file. He had been at it nonstop for hours now. That was unlike him. He couldn't stand paperwork. Why was he so eager now? Maybe he had gotten through to the young con man a little bit. Shrugging he looks one last time at Neal and decided to leave it alone for the time being. God knows that paperwork getting done was not a bad thing.

- The clock read "1:08". Breathing a sigh, Neal lay back down. Eyes on the ceiling, he questioned the reality of him ever sleeping again. Ever since he had seen the picture of the man with the ring, The FBI ring, I had been like this. He couldn't sleep, he hardly ate. Every day he goes to work in a building full of people that he spent his life running away from. He felt trapped and helpless and vulnerable. He was starting to feel that all too familiar need, the need to run. To get out while he still could. That feeling that has kept him alive his entire life, especially as a child.

- The clock read 2:37. With a groan Neal got out of bed. He obviously wasn't going to sleep. He pushed the power button on the coffee maker and went to take a shower.

- Neal was half way through his second cup of coffee when an explosive banging started up on his door, jarring Neal out of his thoughts. Looking at the clock he realized that Peter had been waiting for him for over 20 minutes. Neal was still in his boxers so he grabbed a pair of worn out jeans, a white T-shit and his leather jacket. Throwing on his clothes, he combed his hair back with his fingers and quickly poured the rest of the contents of the coffee pot into a to-go cup. Neal took a deep breath and opened the door to a very red, very angry Peter. Without a word, Peter turned and walked down the stairs toward the car. Neal wordlessly followed.

- They were half way to the FBI building when Neal decided to beak the tense silence that enveloped the car.

- "I'm sorry". That was all Neal said.

- " I'm sorry!? That's all you have to say!? I'm sorry!? ". Peter was practically screaming this at Neal. "I'm so disappointed in you. I expected so much more from you."

Neal sat in stunned silence. Memories from his past started to seep through the cracks. ~ He was on the floor. He could only see out of his right eye. He saw the first coming toward him again, and again, and again. All the while he could hear the ruff, gravelly voice screaming at him, "you are such a disappointment! A disappointment Neal, a big fucking waste of my time! You are lucky I let you stay here! I could just leave you on the street to rot!"~ swallowing hard, Neal turned his attention back to Peter, in time to hear him finish his rant. "... I could just send you back, to rot in your prison cell." Neal swallowed the bile that rose in the back of his throat. Turing to the window, he struggled to keep himself calm.

- Peter was already beating himself up for what he had said. He wasn't really angry at Neal. It was the case they had just been given this morning and Peter was taking all his stress, frustration and anger out on Neal. He turned and looked at Neal. That's when he noticed it. Neal wasn't really Neal. There was something off, something missing that he hadn't taken the time to notice, that is until now. Neal was dressed without his usual flare and elegance. Instead of his expensive suit and silk tie, Neal was wearing some dark; warn out jeans (peter was always under the impression that Neal didn't actually owned any jeans) and a t-shirt that was plain and white. The leather jacket he had only ever seen once, and for the first time, that Peter could remember, Neal was without his hat. He never went anywhere without his hat. It was as much a part of Neal as was the fancy suits, expensive wines, and art.

- storing his musings for later, Peter turned to Neal who was sitting rigid in his seat, face to the window. "I'm sorry Neal. I'm not really mad at you. It's the case we just got this morning. I shouldn't have said those things; I was just taking my emotions out on you. So I'm sorry Neal. "They had reached the FBI building. Peter turned off the car and turned toward Neal. The kid had not moved an inch. "It's ok Peter. I'm fine really. I'm sure I'll understand when I see the case. "He turned and gave Peter a perfect replica of his normal smile. Forcing his shoulders to relax, Neal took a deep breath, opened the car door and got out. He started to walk casually toward the elevator doors. Peter sighed and made to get out of the car, but then he noticed that Neal had forgotten his coffee. He reached over and grabbed it. As he did so, the lid popped off. Hmm that was odd. Since when does Neal drink his coffee black? And so strong? Peter could really smell the coffee now and it was strong enough to put hair on a baby's chest. Shaking his head Peter put the lid back on and fallowed Neal out of the car. It was really none of his business.

I know I haven't updated my other story, broken in a while, but im writing the next chapter now. School has been crazy and worrying about graduation, so im sorry. I will update as soon as I can.