Chapter Two

"Trust me, Mr. Caffrey, you are going to want to bite down on that."

"Wait, please, what ar…"

Neal didn't get a chance to ask for an explanation nor was he offered one. His captors simply took his plea as a chance to force a thick strip of cloth between his teeth and use it to further pin him to the cold rough floor. Laying on his back with someone sitting on his hips Neal's bound hands dug into his lower back as he fought to free himself. Blindfolded and still hazy from the drugs lingering in his system Neal was sucking for breath in his panicked state. Adrenaline poured into his blood as his body did everything it could think of to try and help him escape from the sudden violent turn of events in his life.

This morning had started off much like any other over the past few years had. Neal hadn't thought it was going to be possible at first but he had actually fallen into a routine of getting up and going to 'work', he'd even grown to enjoy it. Working with Peter was often fun, certainly a challenge, and it had brought about an unexpected friendship. Although Neal was still counting the days till the FBI wasn't tracking his every move. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with that particular freedom, but he still wanted it. As the years passed and he was getting closer to his release date Mozzie had been pointing out more and more frequently that Neal needed to chose a side and a lifestyle, but that was far easier said than done.

Stepping out of the shower Neal could hear his phone ringing in the other room. Assuming it was Peter Neal wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbed a spare one for his hair and trailed water across the hardwood floor as he went to answer it. Picking up the smartphone with one hand while he started to dry his unruly hair with the other Neal furrowed his brow at the 'unknown' number that came up. Since it was much too early in the morning for Mozzie to be calling him he considered letting it go to voice mail, but with a shrug he decided to answer.

"Hello?"

"Neal, we have a problem." Mozzie greeted.

"Of course we do. What's wrong?"

"The Lizard is missing."

"By that I'm going to hopefully assume you mean Anthony and not some new exotic pet running loose in your house."

"Neal, this is serious."

"Is it?" Neal asked doubtfully.

"Anthony and I were supposed to meet last night for…reasons."

"You can tell me what you were up to, Moz, I'm not at the office yet. Peter's not listening in."

"You can't know that." Mozzie said seriously.

"Mozzie." Neal said in a warning tone.

"I'm just worried, this was not the kind of opportunity that Anthony would miss, and remember how Brian just seemingly skipped town a few months ago? Yeah, he's not back either. I don't like it."

"We don't exactly associate with the most reliable people, Moz. Richie was gone for almost two years before he told you that he'd been extradited and you two were fairly close, at least close-ish."

"Neal…"

"How many times have you just disappeared on me without any explanation either before or afterward?"

"Never." Mozzie said indignantly. "Well, once…maybe twice."

"Six times."

"Seven if you count that trip to Tibet I didn't tell you about." Mozzie admitted.

"See? I'm sure everything is fine."

"Didn't Anthony help you out a few cases ago?" Mozzie pressed.

"I helped him out." Neal corrected. "I caught him in the middle of our case, he gave me some information on the higher ups in the ring, and in return I made sure that he didn't end up getting caught up in the cross fire when Peter and I made the bust."

"Made the bust?" Mozzie repeated distastefully. "So, what? Does this mean that you have CIs of your own now?"

"No, I just did Anthony a favor that worked out well for me as well. My larger point is that Anthony probably got spooked from almost getting caught. I'm sure he's just laying low."

"Yeah, alright." Mozzie said begrudgingly. "But what if…"

"I've got to get to the office, Moz." Neal interrupted. "I'm already running late and I'm not even dressed yet."

"Ugh. What did I tell you about answering your phone naked?" Mozzie huffed. "It's rude, and it disturbs me."

"I have a towel." Neal chuckled.

"Not good enough…wait, you're working with the Suit today?" Mozzie asked sounding surprised.

"It's Thursday," Neal pointed out "so yes."

"Thursday…right, I knew that. Have fun, try not to arrest anyone we know unless I owe them money."

Neal just hung up the phone. He chalked Anthony's missing the meeting to Mozzie not even know what day it was and got ready to meet Peter at the office. Opening the door to his apartment Neal headed downstairs. June was in the front drawing room enjoying a morning cup of coffee so he walked over to her.

"Good morning, June."

"Morning, Neal. Running a bit late, aren't you?"

"Mozzie."

"Say no more." June chuckled. "Oh, Neal, this was slipped under the front door this morning. I assume it's for you."

June got up and crossed over to the side table. She picked up a white post card and handed it to Neal. Neal took the card made of heavy high quality cotton paper, the kind that he would use for watercolor painting. At first it appeared to be blank, but closer inspection showed that it was embossed with a symbol of a hexagon with a simple maze pattern inside. Unsure of what to think of the card Neal thanked June for it and put it in his pocket.

Arriving at the Federal Building Neal jaunted up the small flight of stairs and stepped into Peter's office. Sitting at his desk filling out a case file Peter looked up and smiled as Neal sat down, he was always in a good mood after they closed a case and yesterday they had closed a major one. Leaning forward Neal took the rubber band ball off Peter's desk and idly played with it.

"Good morning, Neal."

"Morning, Peter. Sorry I'm late."

"It's okay, I'm just finishing up the Patterson case file. I have a few new cases that you can look through, see if anything grabs your attention."

"Right, there's always another case isn't there?" Neal chuckled ruefully.

"I try to think of it as job security."

"That's very 'bright side' of you, Peter." Neal teased.

Peter just shrugged and continued to fill out the paperwork he was working on. Neal put down the rubber band ball and went to pick up the small pile of blue file folders that were sitting on Peter's desk. On top of the first folder was a simple white card exactly like the one June had given Neal this morning. Picking up the card with a small knot developing in his stomach Neal held it up to the light and inspected the maze symbol on it.

"Peter, what is this?"

"Oh, right." Peter looked up. "I was going to ask you about that. I found that in my mailbox this morning. Does it mean anything to you?"

"No, but I got one too." Neal took his own card out of his pocket and handed it to Peter.

"…that's probably not a good sign."

Neal's memory of the day ended at exactly that point. He highly doubted that he'd been drugged and kidnapped from Peter's office in the Federal Building, but he had no images in his mind as to what had happened next and he hadn't been in the right frame of mind to try and figure it out when he'd woken up bound and blindfolded. With his blood running ice cold in the dark Neal had called out quietly to see if he was alone.

"Peter?"

"Your partner's here, Mr. Caffrey," a dead calm voice purred "he just doesn't handle his Rohypnol as well as you do."

"Who are you?" Neal demanded.

"Call me York."

"Never heard of you."

"That's because we've never met. Although I'm very fond of your earlier work, Mr. Caffrey, but that's neither here nor there."

"What do want?"

"It's not about me. I'm a bit of a... let's call it a 'revenge proxy'. "

"Wha…"

Neal cried out breathlessly as someone suddenly sat down heavily on his hips to hold him down even though he hadn't even had a chance to try and get up yet. Fearful of being further restrained Neal thrashed as he best he could while another attacker tried to forced a rolled up cloth between his teeth.

"Trust me, Mr. Caffrey, you are going to want to bite down on that."

"Wait, please, what ar…"

Neal was cut off by the rough cloth that was placed between his teeth and pressed down on to keep his head against the floor. With the cloth cutting into the corners of his mouth Neal gagged against the metallic tasting trickle of blood that ran down his throat as he struggled to breathe. Everything was happening so fast and all he knew about it was that he was in trouble. His heart slammed against his chest as the man on his stomach ripped open his shirt before putting his palms on his shoulders to ensure that he stayed perfectly still. Neal was still able to kick and he pushed against the floor with all his strength to try and throw the man sitting on him off balance. However the man sitting on him was both heavy and powerful so despite Neal's best efforts they didn't budge.

"Personally I find this part distasteful but it's really the best way to make sure there aren't any mix ups later." York sighed as if things were beyond his control. "Anyway, take a deep breath, you're going to need it."

Neal instinctively went against his tormentors suggestion and held his breath as he was frozen in a moment of anticipation. However when he felt a radiating heat over his heart Neal took a sharp breath in horrified realization of what was about to happen. Before he could brace himself against it a firm hand pressed a red hot piece of iron against his chest that sizzled and spat angrily. Instantly in sent into shock it didn't even hurt at first, in fact the contact with the branding tool gave him a flash of a powerful icy sensation as his confused nervous system reacted to the devastatingly high temperature by firing on all cylinders to get his attention as quick as possible in hopes that he'd do something to stop what was happening. His instinctive brain did its best to sort out the explosion of information while it automatically issued a general state of emergency to his entire body.

The sensors in his skin for temperature raced their confused message noticeably faster than the nerves set up to alert him to pain. However, between the space of two heartbeats the intense paradoxical cold transformed into a searing torture resulting in a wash of pain that crescendoed several seconds after the initial injury. The pain was followed by a surge of adrenaline that only heightened Neal's senses and in this case worked against him since he could neither fight nor flight. Straining every muscle at the overpowering agony and the flood of hormones that accompanied it Neal bit down hard on the cloth between his teeth and screamed as his nervous system sang out in protest against the ruined flesh.

With their work done the men released Neal but the pain still lanced through his chest with every pounding beat of his heart. There was an acrid stench of burnt skin and muscle that twisted Neal's already sickeningly sour stomach. With the cloth torn away from between his teeth Neal spent a moment just trying to collect himself. Even though he knew he needed to fight back somehow he found it nearly impossible to make any move towards escape as his senses reeled dizzily with pain and panic.

Managing to almost control the distracting pain that was slowly transforming to a pulsing ache Neal swallowed hard to keep himself from being sick. Not really caring about anything else at the moment other than the fact that he wasn't actively being tormented Neal laid as still as his trembling would allow and tried to figure out what was happening. Just as he was starting to regain his breath Neal jerked sharply at the sound of what he could only assume was the men tearing open Peter's shirt as they turned there attention to their unconscious prey. Neal tried to sit up but someone stepped on his stomach to keep him down.

"Peter!" Neal cried in panic. "No, please don't hurt him!"

Neal knew his plea for mercy fell on deaf ears as the hissing of hot metal against skin caused his own recent injury to flare again in sympathy. The nauseating smell of char was quickly followed by a startled cry that turned into a howl of pain as the branding violently tore Peter back into an unfortunate consciousness. Disoriented from being thrown into a life-threatening situation he didn't understand Peter roared again like an angry bear as he woke an intense pain that lacked any context or warning. Going through the same automatic responses to a sever burn that Neal had it wasn't long before Peter was left gagging and panting heavily.

"Peter, ar…" Neal was cut off with a breathless cry as he was kicked in the ribs.

"Neal? Neal! Don't hurt him!" Peter begged.

"Right to worrying about one another, that's kinda sweet." York mused. "You two really do have some twisted Stockholm/Lima syndrome thing going on, don't you? It will be interesting to see if you're both still so selfless when you're fighting over who eats and who starves. You's be amazed how fast men turn into dogs when they get hungry."

"I am a Federal Agent!" Peter barked menacingly at his unseen captor as he fell back on his FBI training.

"I know, I've got your badge right here." York taunted. "I'm going to use it as a paperweight for now. Don't worry, I'll mail it back to your wife along with some flowers after you're dead."

"Don't you dar…"

"Do you want the card to read 'Elizabeth', 'El', or maybe just 'Hon'?"

Neal knew that whatever it took Peter was about to attack York and when he tried Neal took the opportunity of the distraction to lash out as well. Kicking wildly Neal caught the shin of one of York's men who yelped in pain and surprise. It was the only solid hit Neal managed to land before being winded by a sharp kick to the stomach. Although he couldn't see hearing Peter retching told him he had been similarly subdued.

"Are you two done?" York asked like a disproving parent of a pair of rowdy children. "You know when I first approached me about you two I said 'absolutely not, I'm not tangling with the FBI or their collared pets'. However he was persistent and I have to admit that I think you two are going to be very entertainmenting."

"You can't do this to us!" Peter snarled.

"I can't?" York repeated in mock surprise. "Let's experiment with that theory."

When Neal suddenly found someone on top of him again to hold him down he braced himself for another painful assault. Neal grit his teeth to try to keep silent but when his attacker slammed his palm down on the fresh burn he suddenly found himself wailing in a tortured voice that he didn't even recognize as being his own.

"Neal!" Peter cried desperately. "Please, stop!"

"Stop? I've barely begun."

"I'm going to kill you!" Peter spat venomously.

"I highly doubt that, but I bet you are going to kill *for* me or die trying. Welcome to the Labyrinth."