Author's Introduction: What started as just a generic Neal whump story, just to have a bit of fun starting out in a new fandom, has quickly grown into something much more. I blame too much sugar and not enough sleep. This is no longer my first foray, as I have dabbled with writing in this fandom several times this past year, but it still stands that this was my first White Collar story Idea. I'm throwing this chapter out there to test the waters a bit, see how many bites I get, though I do plan on finishing this. I do truly love Neal and his partnership (friendship, bromance, but never slash [nothing against it, but if it isn't in the show, it isn't in my stories]) with Peter . . . and I know not why I feel the need to unjustly torture them both so thoroughly. But, c'est la vie! The show must go on! Hold on to your puppy dog socks, ladies, gentlemen, and cons, 'cause boy are we in for a ride! (10/25/2014)

Disclaimer: If these characters belonged to me, they all would run and hide to the farthest reaches of the Earth to escape my sadistic mind. I'm so sorry Neal!

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of physical, mental, and emotional torture; not for the weak of stomach or faint of heart. Possible spoilers. Also, I am very prone to leaving cliffhangers. Almost every chapter, really. And long spans of time between chapters. You all have been warned.

~O~

Neal Caffrey let loose a scream.

Peter gripped the edge of the conference table with a white-knuckled grasp as Neal's bloodcurdling screams filled the air again, pouring from the speakers on either side of the monitor hung on the conference room wall.

Despite the lowered volume, the screams still managed to pierce through the room, and out into the bullpen. Pale faces contorted with concern and helpless disgust showed on every agent within earshot of the sound. The clerks were close to tears, flinching with every new shriek of agony.

Peter's gaze burned into the smooth surface of the conference table, he being unable to look at the screen, unable to watch his partner's torment, but unable to let it go on without him.

Diana, who stood beside Peter, kept her eyes averted from the screen as well. She turned to her fellow junior agent. "Jones, turn it off. We—"

"No." Peter's rebuff was punctuated with a fresh scream, making everyone in the room wince. "No, we can't – I can't leave him like that alone. Get Tech to try running a search again. Trace the signal, scour the video; get me something we can use to find him."

Diana opened her mouth as though to reply, looking as though even she wasn't sure what she would say, but Peter cut her off.

"I know he doesn't know we're watching, I realize that. But so long as he's in the hands of that psychotic son of a. . . So long as he's suffering, I won't leave him." He released his hold on the table, scrubbing his hands over his face before standing to his fullest height. Each cry from Neal was like a frigid knife pierced into Peter's heart, but he braced himself against it, knowing that he and his team were the only ones with the ability to find his missing partner before time ran out. He needed a clear head. "As bad as it is, his screaming at least means he's still alive. Let's find a way to keep him that way, people."

~O~

Blood Drops On a White Rose

Chapter One

"Peter."

"Neal."

"Not that this isn't fun," Neal said, sarcasm dripping as he flipped the page of the file he was reading. He took his feet off of Peter's desk. "But if I read one more page of this mortgage fraud case tonight, I'm packing up and sending myself back to prison." To emphasize his point, he snapped the file closed.

"Yeah, guess we're not gonna get much more done tonight. You put out a good work effort today, how about I drive you home?"

"Sounds good to me." He flashed an appreciative smile as he stood and held the door open for Peter. They left Peter's office in darkness, making their way down the stairs and onto the bullpen floor. "Let me grab my hat." Neal made a bee-line for his work station, relieving his hat from the Socrates bust taking residence on his desk.

He jogged over to Peter, who was standing by the elevators, checking his pockets for his phone, wallet, and keys. Once they were all accounted for, Peter turned to Neal as they stepped into the elevator. "Maybe tomorrow a more interesting case'll come in."

"It has been a few days since we closed the last big one. Not sure I can take much more mortgage and insurance fraud."

"'Just don't make crimes like they used to, huh?" Peter joked.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Neal bantered back, "Not since I left the game."

"And yet, my job hasn't gotten any easier since then."

Neal flipped his hat gracefully onto his head, smiling up from under the brim being his only response.

A comfortable silence fell upon them as the elevator descended past the ground floor. They made their way through the nearly empty parking garage, into Peter's Taurus and out onto the darkened streets. They chatted amiably about nothing in particular as they neared June's mansion.

Peter parked outside the house, stopping beside the stairs. A gentle rain had started about halfway through their journey, so Peter got as close as he could to the house to try and save Neal's suit from the mild downpour as much as possible.

As Neal reached for the door handle, Peter suddenly turned to him. "Oh, hey, I almost forgot. El's invited you to dinner tomorrow night, if you're not busy. She's got a new batch of h'orderves to try out and wants an 'expert opinion' as she said. Apparently my plain ol' palette isn't advanced enough," he joked with a smirk.

Neal smiled. "Tell her it would be my pleasure. Seven o'clock?"

"Ah-hmm," Peter confirmed.

"Great. I'll bring wine. See you in the morning, Peter." He pushed open the door and stepped out.

"Bye, Neal," his partner called before Neal shut the door and hurried up the stairs to June's.

As Peter's car drove out of sight, Neal stretched his hand towards the door, only to stop as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He glanced around as the feeling of eyes watching him persisted, but he couldn't see far in the dark and rain.

Making a mental note to inform June to be cautious, he pushed the feeling aside for now. He eased the door open and slipped inside, securely shutting and locking it behind him before heading up the stairs to his apartment.

To be continued. . .