It was seven thirty in the morning when Neal Caffrey walked outside June's house for the first time since yesterday. He stood on the curb, with the tips of his Italian leather shoes suspended over the edge as he contemplated hailing a taxi. He fancied the idea of having someone drive him to work other than Peter, if not for the mere fact that the agent was angry with him but for the verity that his chest ached with every rise and fall it made, a reminder of the panic attack he suffered through the night before. He knew that if he walked to the FBI building the pain in his chest would worsen, but all rational thought became irrelevant to the ex conman as he thought about how hurt he was by Peter's bitterness towards him. Out of his peripheral vision he saw a yellow taxi quickly making its way towards him and with one last battle inside his head of whether or not to walk to work he casually stepped away from the curb and began walking in the direction of the FBI building, fully aware that each step he took was one step closer to an unbearable pain in his chest he would have to suffer through silently all day.

Diana looked up from a case file she was looking through to see such an unfamiliar sight that her jaw dropped ever so slightly. The infamous Neal Caffrey, so defined and elegant, walked through the doors to the twenty-first floor of the FBI building looking winded and worn out. Of course his clothes were as extravagant as usual, but not even the most expensive suits in the world could hide the physical turmoil a man's body took on, not even if that man happened to be the best conman that ever lived. She watched as Neal practically fell into his chair at his small desk not even bothering to make his way to Peter's office first to torment her boss, as he usually did. She noticed Neal's erratic breathing and what appeared to her as shaking hands, but she was too far away to be sure. Diana pondered over reasons for such things and why Neal didn't arrive at work with Peter, but when she came up short, she stood and made her way to Peter's office for some answers.

Diana knocked on Peter's door even though it was open. When their gazes met, Diana opened her mouth to speak but Peter beat her to it.

"Is Neal here?" He asked in such a way that meant if the younger man wasn't he was going to be in trouble. This struck Diana as odd, considering Neal was never late and even on the rare occasion that he was, Peter never punished him for it.

"Um, yeah. He is. He's at his desk." Diana responded with a questioning glance.

"Good. What is it?" He asked, all annoyance gone.

"Well, that's actually what I came up here to talk to you about. Is everything okay between the two of you? I mean you two usually come to work together." She asked casually, but noticed Peter's jaw clench ever so slightly.

"A man can walk to work can't he? Neal's young, he needs to walk." Peter replied flatly, trying not to sound angry but Diana caught it.

"Boss, you have every right to be angry with him, what he did was wrong, but I really think you should talk to him, work things out between the two of you. We automatically expect him to respond to punishment, but maybe what he needs is a good talking too." Diana tried to encourage as she remembered how Neal looked when he walked in earlier. Peter grunted.

"He should be in prison for attempted murder, so I'd say I'm going easy on him." Peter replied irritated.

"I understand that, Boss. But I think their might be something wrong with him, like in a physical way. I'm just…concerned."

Peter looked up at her and with a sigh and biting of his lip he stood up, walked out of his office to the railing, and once Neal looked up at him, gave him the `double finger point` to come up.

Neal swallowed thickly when he saw an aggravated Peter give him the `double finger point`. He stood quickly, which he soon regretted when pain exploded throughout his chest. He masked it and walked up the stairs to Peter's office. He walked in and noticed a concerned Diana and an annoyed Peter.

"Neal, are you alright?" Peter asked flatly. Neal cocked his head to the side suspiciously. He would have felt relieved that Peter would ask about his well being but the tone that he asked it in meant he had been put up to it.

"Yes, I'm fine, I jus-" Neal responded, but Peter cut him off.

"Good. We have a briefing in five minutes. You are going undercover." With that the agent left his office.

For the second time that morning Diana's mouth slid open in shock. She never expected Peter to act like that towards Neal and take Neal's word that he was indeed fine, when clearly the younger man had dark circles forming under his eyes, his hands visibly shook at his sides, you could hear him breathing and if you listened closely it almost sounded like wheezing. Diana was very concerned for the CI that she had grown to care for, so that meant that Peter should be worrying himself to death over his consultant as he usually did. But he wasn't and it made Diana angry.

Neal watched his handler leave completely oblivious that Diana was watching him carefully. No, he wasn't fine. He knew something was wrong with him, but he kept telling himself it was just because of panic attacks and anxiety. Though deep down, if he was really honest with himself, he knew something was seriously wrong with him and that scared him more than anything. He was brought out of his daze when she touched his arm lightly.

"Neal? Are you sure you're okay? You just seem like you're not feeling well. You need to tell someone if-"

"I said I'm fine." Neal replied more harshly than he meant to. His anger wasn't directed towards Diana, but he couldn't help the outburst. He shrugged off her hand and made his way to the conference room.

20 minutes later

Neal sat at the conference table going over all the information he was just given. It was a simple operation. He just had to go in, act as if he was interested in buying the stolen painting they were trying to recover from a high profiled art collector named Tom Gadiff, suspected of several thefts but never convicted of any of them, until now, hopefully. Feeling confident in the operation, he stood and made his way to Peter's office to tell the agent he was leaving to get ready for the operation.

He walked into the agent's office cautiously, and knocked on the door lightly. Once his handler looked up Neal spoke.

"I'm leaving. I have to go get ready for the meet tonight." Neal said hoping the agent would at least tell him to be careful, but his hopes were diminished.

"Okay. Bye." Peter glanced at him for only a second, but little did the agent know that it might be the last time he would see Neal Caffrey alive and well.

Neal was standing face to face with Tom Gadiff when the suspect saw the new agent in the White Collar unit, who was standing two hundred feet behind Neal, signal another agent giving their whole operation up. Neal could only stand there and watch as realization hit Tom in the face and the suspect grabbed the painting and took off running. For the first time in Neal Caffrey's criminal career, he couldn't react. He stood there frozen, in shock at first, but then fear as he realized he couldn't bear to run after Tom with the pain in his chest. But he knew he had too, so he took off running. Adrenaline kept the pain at bay the first few minutes of running but soon the pain was back and unbearable. Black dots threatened his vision as he gasped for much needed air that never came. No longer able to stand, he collapsed to the ground curling into a ball, silently pleading for the darkness to take him away from the pain even if it meant forever.

Peter ran out of the surveillance van as fast as he could. They couldn't lose Gadiff. They had him. But when he turned the corner of the building he felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. No longer concerned with Gadiff, Peter ran as fast as he could to cross the distance between himself and Neal. He finally reached him in seconds but it didn't feel quick enough to the agent, and dropped to his knees. He laid a hand in Neal's sweat dampened hair before grabbing the younger man's trembling shoulders and began to roll him over onto his back but stopped when his consultant screamed in protest and curled tighter into himself. Despite the fear and panic radiating of the agent, Peter was persistent. He put his right hand in Neal's slightly curled locks of hair and mussed it, in attempt to calm the younger man. He let his left hand land on Neal's shoulder as he spoke to him.

"Neal? Neal, listen to me. I need you to tell me what's wrong. Come on, Buddy. Please, talk to me." Peter pleaded, but never in a million years would he have expected the response Neal gave him.

"G-get…away….from m-me." Neal said between gasping breaths of air before finally was awarded with unconsciousness.

AN: I decided not to go into detail about the operation...I was lazy. Sorry! Anyway, review please. :)