An: This is my first White Collar fanfiction so I'm a little excited! I've only seen the first two seasons so far, but it won't affect the story in any way.
Set nowhere particular. Hurt, but nothing too graphic (as in I'm-gonna-throw-up-this-is-gross kind of stuff, but also not meh-this-is-boring-as-fuck kind of stuff).
Neal, Peter, Mozzie and a few own characters.
No slash.
Rated T for some violence and a little swearing.
Summary: An attempt to kill Peter and Neil fails, but it leaves Neal trapped inside an old hospital with a psychotic killer and Peter outside without a way to contact the others in their team.
Enjoy!
xx
"Are you sure this is the place?" Neal asked, glancing out of the car window at the huge, abandoned hospital standing in front of them in the dimming evening light. It was far from the city, the reason it had been abandoned, and the reason their guy might hold up inside, and he knew it. But something didn't feel right about the building, he just couldn't figure out what.
Peter nodded, shutting off the engine of the car. "A jogger saw someone sneak into the building an hour after the murder. It might be nothing, but.."
"Yeah", Neal replied, taking a final glance at the hospital before tearing his eyes from it and stepping out of the car.
Their killer, so far unnamed, had gone on a killing streak, dropping bodies twice a day but doing a great job at not leaving any evidence they could use to identify him behind - so far they had gotten a half of a fingerprint that had had no matches in their database, and a stump of a smoked cigarette that, too, had gotten then nowhere. This was their first actual lead, if it even was that. Neal was pretty sure the hospital wouldn't get them anywhere.
But still, there was something off. And he was dying to know what.
Peter followed Neal out of the car and closed the doors with the key before walking up to his friend who had already taken a few steps towards the building in front of them. Quickly Peter counted the floors - ten floors tall and probably a basement. That was eleven floors to search.
"I think we might need more people", Peter said, watching Neal as he turned to face the agent. "I had no idea this place was going to be this big."
"Lets just visit it first", Neal suggested. "If there are marks of an entry somewhere, we'll call for backup. I doubt he's hiding here, he's too intelligent to settle for something like this."
Peter had to admit that the con was right. There was no point in calling for backup when the building was most probably empty.
"Lets go then", Peter replied, beginning to walk towards the hospital with Neal by his side.
As they got closer, Neal started to see the building for what it really was - spraypainted pictures on the windows and the walls, spider web in the corners, glassy doors nailed shut with thick boards, an ER sign hanging loose on the wall on top of one of the entrances. The place was a mess, and every second he grew more certain that their guy wasn't there.
Approaching the ER door, Neal walked ahead of Peter and inspected the door. It was sealed shut, and nobody had definitely used it in years.
So they circled the building to the main entrance of the hospital, and found it sealed too. Someone had attempted to break down the boards but had failed or given up, but Neal guessed it had just been a few curious teens and not their murderer.
Then they came to the door that had been probably used by the chefs of the hospital, because it seemed to lead into a kitchen, as far as Neal could tell from the dusty window beside the door. The door wasn't boarded or barred, so Neal turned to face Peter with a question on his face. Should he open it?
Peter nodded, and Neal pushed at the door, and it opened with a creaky noise. Glancing inside, Neal stepped in a few steps and heard a small tick - and before he could even flinch everything was buried under the loudest noise he had ever heard and this heat that seemed to burn Neal all the way into his insides, a white pain engulfed him and every fiber of his body before he slammed hard into something and everything went black.
xx
He came to just second after losing his consciousness, probably. He opened his eyes, his whole body aching and his head swimming, and saw fire behind and inside a thick layer of dust lingering in the air everywhere around him. It was almost pitch black around him, but he could make out a figurless lump blocking the door and the hallway - a quick glance upwards showed him that the ceiling had collapsed, blocking Neal's way out.
Everything was blurry, in his eyes as well as in his mind, but he did realize on thing. "Peter."
Neal groaned, and let his head fall back onto the ground. The ache was killing him, his whole body telling him to just stay there and fall unconscious, but the thought of Peter buried under all that metal and concrete kept him awake, and so he slowly raised his head again and then pushed himself up by his elbows.
"Peter?" he called out, coughing as the sudden intake of dust and smoke of the fire made his throat hurt. "Peter!"
He pushed himself up onto his feet, swaying a little but mostly alright. The ache worsened as he stood up, and suddenly his head felt heavy and the world spun around so hard Neal collapsed against the wall but forced himself to stay upright.
You've only banged your head. It's nothing more than that. Focus, he told himself. Peter might be somewhere under that crap. I gotta find him. I can do it.
With a groan he forced his eyes open - which he hadn't realized he'd closed - and his legs to move. As he got to the mess of concrete, wood and metal, the air got worse and he had to stop and cough. It hurt his lungs, but he couldn't leave before he knew Peter wasn't under all of that. He wouldn't let Peter die.
xx
Peter's ears rang and his vision swam as he raised his head from where he lay on the ground, momentarily paralyzed by the shock of what had just happened. First he'd been standing there, pulling his phone out of his pocket to call Diana, and then he'd flown through the air and landed hard on his back on the asphalt, his head colliding with the ground hard enough to knock him out for a moment or two.
Where the hell was Neal?
Shit.
He was inside when it exploded.
This panic-like feeling took over and he rushed to his feet, only to find his balance wasn't working and to meet the ground again.
He groaned, rolling over to his back and taking a second to gather his strength. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, and slowly it started to clear. His head ached and his ears still rang, but when he climbed to his feet again -more carefully this time-, he found his legs working and rushed to the sealed door.
Well, the door wasn't there, but the doorway was blocked by a collapsed ceiling, it looked like.
This is bad.
"Peter!" he heard Neal's voice from the other side. He sounded scared.
"Neal?" Peter called out, peeking inside through a small hole in the mess of concrete and other materials, but something was blocking it a little further away. "Are you okay?"
"I'm alright", Neal's voice echoed. "You?"
"I'm good", Peter replied. "What the hell happened?"
"A trap", Neal replied, and coughed. "I think."
Peter furrowed his brows. Neal did not sound fine. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I just.. the explosion knocked me down", Neal said. "There's a fire in here, I gotta get out."
"Damn right you do", Peter replied, remembering the phone. It had landed somewhere near him, Peter was sure. He just needed to find it. They needed help.
Looking around himself, Peter quickly located the phone... in million pieces. Shit.
"My phone's broken", Peter told the con. "You have yours?"
"Didn't take it with me", Neal answered, coughing again. Harder this time. Longer. "I need to get away from the smoke or I'll black out. I'll find a way out of here, you find a way to get help."
Taking orders from Neal was never fun to Peter, but he nodded. He knew Neal was right, so why argue. "Be careful in there, Neal."
"I will", Neal's voice replied, and Peter groaned. Great. Just great.
He turned around and started walking towards the car, but halfway to it he realized he'd lost the keys. With a sigh he turned around and started to search.
What he missed was the figure of a man looking down at him from the third floor window before turning around and disappearing.
xx
Neal jogged down the hallway, escaping the smoke and dust little by little until it was finally gone and he could breathe again. The clean air felt great in his burning lungs and sore throat, and so he slowed down his pace and continued to walk down the hallway until he came to a turn and walked into the kitchen of the hospital.
It was an eerie sight with the dusty, metallic tables and a sink, with forgotten tools lying around. In the dim light it was hard to see clearly, but Neal noticed a knife on the table and grabbed it - just in case. He didn't trust this hospital.
Continuing through the kitchen and out of the other door, Neal came to another hallway, shorter this time. An old painting hung on the wall, covered in dust like everything else. A door laid at the end of the hallway, the only door besides the one Neal had come from, so he headed towards that.
Walking through it, he came to another hallway, bigger this time. It had doors on both sides of it and a reception in the end where the hallway expanded into a room. Most of the doors were open, so as he passed by them, he made sure to peek in.
Hospital beds and old machines stood inside, unused for years. This is straight out of a bad horror movie, Neal thought as he walked, grimacing at the thought. As he came to the reception, he saw the front doors, but knew he wouldn't get out through them. He had to find another way. Maybe a window?
Turning around and walking into one of the rooms, he headed to the window. It was thick glass, the kind you didn't break by punching it. And by the look of it, there were two sets of glasses between him and freedom.
The sound of something metallic clinking against something metallic echoed out from the hallway, and Neal spun around, raising the knife he had grabbed from the kitchen. His heart slowly started to speed up its pace as he took a few shaky steps towards the door, but quickly froze when he heard the sound of someone stepping onto a piece of glass, breaking it.
Staring at the hallway, Neal tried to think of a plan but only came up with one - run.
But before he could take the first step to escape, a man appeared at the door and rushed at Neal. Flincing back, Neal dodged the man and swung at him with his knife, but didn't hit. The man grabbed Neal's wrist, twisted, and as pain shot through Neal's arm his fingers loosened around the knife and he fell on his knees only to be yanked up by the man half a second later-
"Good night, mr. Caffrey", the man hissed.
Neal felt the man's hands grab his head, a sharp pain following a quick movement and everything went black again.
xx
Yeah, so this is how chapter one ends. Sorry for possible typos, btw, I didn't have a beta! Aaalso, English isn't my native language, so any wording mistake is definitely my fault :D but well, shit happens.
Leave a review! Did you hate it, love it? I really appreciate every comment C:
-fixusi