Disclaimer: I do not own white collar. If I did, Neal whumpage would happen much more often.
When Neal wakes up, he's alone.
He can't move his arms or legs, they're strapped to something. A chair, maybe? He can't tell.
It's all dark. Everything's dark, and Neal is confused.
I was at the park, he recalls, forcing his painfully blurry mind to remember. The men who grabbed me...
He dimly realizes that his eyes are covered by a blindfold, and that's why it's dark. For all he knows, he could be in a brightly lit room. But that's just the thing- he doesn't know. And Neal really hates not knowing. After all, the perfect con relies on details.
And a bunch of other things, but now is not really the time to get into that. Not at all.
"I think Mister Caffrey's awake," someone says. Neal tries very hard to come up with a clever quip to respond with, but his head is so muggy...
The blindfold is pulled roughly from his face, and Neal gasps out of surprise when he finds himself staring into two (shockingly close) yellow eyes. A face is grinning back at him.
"Hello, Mr. Caffrey." That's what comes out of the mystery person's mouth, along with an overwhelming odor that smells suspiciously like alcohol. Neal feels bile rise in his throat, and he fights the urge to choke, cough, do ANYTHING to rid the air around his nostrils of that awful stench.
"Uh, hello," he replies cautiously. "Would you mind... backing up a little?"
...
"Dammit!" Peter exclaims angrily. He's sitting on his couch, sitting next to his beautiful wife (who has just finished packing up her last suitcase), and he's been kissing her.
It was wonderful and passionate and it was the type of kiss that made him feel like everything might actually be okay, and he was really enjoying it...
...up until the moment his phone started ringing.
He grabs the phone from his pocket, giving Elizabeth another quick peck on the lips and assuring her that he will be right back before answering.
"Burke."
"Peter," Diana's breathless, no-nonsense voice from the other end lets him know that all is not right with the world. An uncomfortable feeling that he can only describe as terror has begun to grow in his gut.
"What is it, Diana? Are you okay?"
He hears her laugh, but notices that there is no humor in it. The feeling of dread increases.
"I'm fine. But, boss..."
"What? What is it?"
She sighs.
"It's Neal. He cut his anklet," she says, and Peter can't move or speak or anything. He's frozen in place, he can't breathe, he can't blink, he can't-
"Sweetie?" Comes El's calming voice from his left as she places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?"
"Neal ran," he whispers. Then he speaks into the phone,
"Has Mozzie called?"
Peter knows Neal would never run without Mozzie. Mozzie is his partner in crime, and Neal would never leave a partner behind. Neal's just that kind of guy.
"Not yet, boss. We can't reach him," Diana says, and Peter's heart swells with pride at her word choice. Not yet. She thinks he will call, because she doesn't actually think Neal ran. Fully prepared to treat Neal's disappearance strictly as a kidnapping, Peter asks,
"Where is Neal's tracker now?"
...
"Poor Mister Caffrey," the man (whom Neal has not-so-affectionately named Beer Belly) says, "doesn't even know why he's here."
Neal gasps, trying to pull as much air as he can into his lungs before the wet towel is forced over his face again.
It never comes.
He opens his eyes with slowly and with trepidation, fully expecting the wet towel to appear at any moment, but Beer Belly is just standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest and an amused smile on his face.
"I can't believe you don't remember me," he says, chuckling.
"Yeah, well," Neal rasps, "excuse me if my memory isn't functioning very well right now, but I'm almost positive one of your guys gave me a concussion."
Beer Belly just laughs harder.
"Oh, Neal," he sighs, "You always were so collected, even in the worst situations."
"I'm flattered," Neal replies. Beer Belly squints at him for a moment before tilting his head to the side. Any trace of good humor has disappeared from his features, replaced by an angry yet mischievous smirk.
"I seem to remember one thing, however, that always made you freeze up," he says, reaching into his back pocket. Neal cranes his neck, trying desperately to see what the man is holding, but he can't catch a glimpse of it. Beer Belly seems to be very good at hiding the object behind his back.
"Really? What's that?" By now Neal is on the verge of whimpering, he's so terrified. He's got to know what the man has, or he's going to go insane.
"When you remember who I am, you're going to feel so stupid," Beer Belly muses.
He pulls out the gun from behind his back, pointing it straight at Neal's chest.
"We can talk about this," Neal tries.
"It's too late for that now, Caffrey," Beer Belly chuckles. "Way, way too late."
And he pulls the trigger.
...
When Peter finds Neal, he's alone.
He's tied to a chair, with blood dripping sluggishly onto the floor from a wound in his chest.
Peter runs over to him, not waiting for his men to clear the room, not waiting for anything. Neal could die.
He might already be dead.
His finger shake as they distractedly check for breathing, a pulse, anything. Neal's pulse is there, if a bit weak, and his breathing is shallow Peter sends up a quick prayer of thanks that Neal is at least alive, adding that it'd sure be nice if he could stay that way.
The paramedics appear moments later, cutting away the ropes that are holding Neal captive. They lay him on a stretcher and drive away, leaving Peter standing alone in a warehouse with blood on his hands and a bad, bad feeling in his gut.
...
This time, when Neal wakes up, he's not alone. Because there's Peter, sitting next to his hospital bed, telling him that he's safe now, and everything's alright. And there's El, right next to her husband, with tears in her eyes, holding his hand.
Later, when El has gone to get a nurse, Peter says,
"Don't worry. We caught the guy."
"Who was he?"
"You don't know?" Peter asks, looking surprised. And Neal is a little tired of people assuming he knows everything about his kidnapper, but he holds his tongue, hoping that Peter will explain. And he does.
"He was just an old partner of yours. We don't know why he kidnapped you, but his doctors just think he didn't take all of his medications."
Which doesn't make Neal feel any better, because that means that he was tortured and almost killed just because some old alcoholic who happened to have known him hadn't taken his meds.
"It's gonna be okay, Neal," Peter assures him. "You know that, right?"
Neal nods, because yes, it will be okay.
Everything will be just fine, because he's not alone. Not anymore.
If you decide to review, please be nice! I'm very new to all of this. That being said, I LOVE constructive criticism. I always like to improve :)