AN: here's the next chapter! I know it's short as well, but I'm putting them out as I write them. Thank for reading!
Peter wanted to start freaking out when Neal listed to the side and passed out, but he didn't. The wound had just about stopped bleeding and he checked Neal's pulse and breathing to make sure he was still alive. 'Neal's not dead, he just passed out,' Peter told himself. But he still looked really pale.
So, knowing Neal will live for the time being, he let him sleep and kept watch for the men hunting them.
About a half an hour later Neal started to stir and moaned. Peter moved over to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. The moment Peter's hand made contact with Neal he startled, gasped and tried to move away, but stopped with a yelp of pain. His eyes were darting around frantically, but he quickly calmed down when his eyes locked on Peter.
Neal let out the breath he was holding and said "Oh right, the forest," as he let his head fall back to the ground and closed his eyes.
"Where did you think you were?"
"Paris."
"Oh. Well, welcome back," Peter said cheerfully.
Neal just moaned in response.
"I haven't seen any of them, so I think we lost 'em for now."
"Good," Neal said. He opened his eyes and slowly sat up and leaned against the tree. He waited for the pain to die down then dared to look at his leg. It had stopped bleeding, but he could see blood stains on his jeans (not his good suit pants, thank God). Peter's hat was on the wound, with Neal's scarf wrapped around the leg to keep the hat in place and Peter's belt was still around Neal's leg.
"We should loosen that. Wouldn't want your leg to fall off," Peter said, pointing at the belt.
"Not funny," Neal mumbled.
"Really? I thought it was."
Peter loosened the belt a little, and Neal could feel the blood coming back to his leg. With the blood, the pain came as well. The pain pulsed with the beat of his heart -which was quite fast at the moment- and couldn't stop the groan that escaped.
"You alright?" Peter asked and Neal just looked at him. "Right, never mind."
After a few minutes the pain died down a little and Neal asked, "So, We got a plan?"
"Well, we can't just stay here, it's going to get dark in a few hours, and a lot colder." Right now it was about fifty degrees, so colder was not a good thing. "And they're still looking for us, so we need to get out of here."
"Do you know which way to go? Because I don't."
Peter didn't, not really. Well, he knew which way north was, but he didn't know which way civilization was. They were already somewhere in the forest when the smugglers started shooting at them, and then they were running for their lives and couldn't stop to look for landmarks.
So Peter thought the best way to find civilization was to go one direction. "We'll go west. It should be the fastest way to find civilization."
Neal just looked at him with confusion.
"That way," Peter said, pointing to Neal's right. "How do you know about crossbow bolts and not that?"
"It wasn't pertinent. I know which way is west in New York, not a forest," Neal said as he glowered at his surroundings as if it was to blame for their predicament.
After a moment of looking at Neal, Peter asked, "You think you can walk?" And waved a hand vaguely at Neal's leg.
Neal considered this for a moment, then said, "Yeah... With some help."
"Well, that's what I'm here for. That and arrow removal."
"Bolt. It's a bolt," Neal said, then looked at Peter's smirking face. "You did that on purpose."
"I don't know what you're talking about. Come on, let's go." Peter grabbed Neal's arm and put it over his shoulders and helped him up.
The whole way up Neal's eyes were pinched shut and tried his best to muffled a groan. He finally opened his eyes and turned to Peter who still had his arm over his shoulders. He nodded to Peter, silently telling him he was ready.
And then they started their slow and painful walk toward what they hoped was civilization.
