A/N: Once again thanks so much for all your reviews. Hope you like this. And umm please let me know if you do or don't.

"I'm not crying!" Peter claimed almost angrily wiping his eyes as El observed her husband worried. There weren't any tears but Peter almost wasn't able to avoid them. He had a very emotional side too but he showed it to no one expect Elizabeth.

"It's okay hon. You had a hard day", El hugged him.

"I still can't believe Neal did it. He was transported to prison today and I know he deserves it just like he will deserve every single day of his sentence. But I can't stop feeling sorry for him. I can't stop caring about him."

El was surprised Peter was talking so much about his feelings. He didn't like telling his thoughts and usually got embarrassed in situations like this.

"Neal must have finally gotten Peter out of his mind", El wondered as she held her husband ever tighter.

•••

The guard walking past the cells waked Neal up. He had almost forgotten how it was to be in prison and wake up every night at least ten times because of the guards or other convicts didn't know the meaning of the word silence. Nobody had apparently taught them to whisper.

Neal had been brought to prison just hours ago. He should be held here only until his sentencing but it was pretty clear he would return right back in. The evidence was way too clear and Neal had no idea who was behind this all.

"How long will I have to suffer the punishment of something I didn't even do?" Neal wondered as he drifted back to sleep.

•••

When the morning arrived Neal was exhausted. He hadn't slept much over two hours.

"Get up Caffrey!" A guard was yelling outside his cell. Neal rose from the bed and stretched quickly. Apparently it was time for breakfast already.

He was going to have a hard day ahead of him. Someone would soon find out who he was and then the word would spread quickly.

And when everybody knew he was a snitch, he shouldn't move anywhere without the guards if he didn't want to end up dead.

•••

All the convicts were let out of their cells and they stood in the hallway in two long lines.

Neal was already bored of seeing so many orange jumpsuits. He hated wearing one. He had never looked good in them.

When the lines started moving Neal knew something was wrong. The other convicts couldn't already know who he was. But he could see how everyone eyed him and then he heard someone shouting an insult.

He couldn't quite make out what the man had shouted but he could hear words 'snitch' and 'faggot'.

Then there was a lot of laughter and Neal could feel his face turning red. He didn't like being humiliated.

But that was only the beginning. He knew more was coming.

•••

After a long day of being laughed at, mocked and harassed Neal was finally let to return to his cell get some rest.

"How can they already know who I am?" Neal wondered. This was probably doings of the same person who had framed him of the theft. He had tipped someone in prison because he wished Neal would die here on the inside. But who was the one behind all this?

•••

"There's a visitor for you Caffrey." A guard cuffed Neal's hands and then opened the cell so he could follow him.

"But it isn't visiting time now." Neal mumbled surprised.

"Yeah. It isn't." That was all the guard said as he led Neal to a small yard enclosed by a high fence. There were tables and chairs all around the yard and Neal supposed that during summer the visitors could meet convicts here instead of the dusty rooms inside.

"He isn't here yet", the guard grunted. "Sit here and wait. I'll let him in when he arrives. And I'll be right inside with the other guards so don't try anything."

Then he was gone and Neal was left alone. He paced the yard waiting for his visitor.

Maybe it would be Peter. Maybe Peter had finally realized it wasn't Neal who stole the painting. Or maybe Moz had decided to visit him.

•••

When the door to the yard opened, the man standing in the doorway wasn't Peter or Mozzie. The man was tall and had huge muscles. And he was wearing an orange jumpsuit. He was a convict too.

Neal backed away scared as the huge man started walking towards him. The man raised his fists just to show Neal he wasn't here to talk. Oh no, he didn't talk with snitches. He killed them.

•••

Neal didn't know how to fight. He hated violence and was no opponent to the big man who looked like he could crush Neal's head with just one fist.

His only chance was to run. Fast. And get help from the guards waiting inside.

As the man moved closer and closer Neal came aware of the fact that there was a fence behind him and if he wanted to run he'd first have to get pass the man.

Neal didn't know what to do. He couldn't do anything but try to shout for help.

"HELP..." He started but the huge man jumped right in front of him and covered Neal's mouth with his huge palm. Neal tried shouting but got only a small whisper out of his mouth.

"Help me. Please don't. Don't do this."

The man pushed Neal against the fence as the younger man tried to struggle out of his grip. It was useless. The man was twice as strong as Neal was. And when the first punch hit Neal's stomach blowing all the air out of his lungs he didn't struggle anymore.

He had to concentrate to his breathing so he got the air forced back to his lungs. Then the man hit him again. And again.

Every new blow sent a new wave of pain all around Neal's body and he gasped. He tried to close his eyes and stay limp so the punches wouldn't do so much harm but couldn't help but to moan in pain when hard punches started hitting his ribcage.

"There must be a few ribs broken because I can't breath." Neal thought as his breathing turned shallow and painful.

When he thought he couldn't take it anymore the man stopped and stepped away from Neal.

Neal tried to stay standing but didn't succeed and fell to his knees.

"P-p-please." he whispered.

Then the man hit Neal right to his jaw. From Neal's lips escaped a small cry as tears of pain started flowing down his bloody face.

Then suddenly it was very loud. The guards had noticed what was going on and they were dragging the big convict back inside. Everyone was shouting but all the sounds started blurring in Neal's head and soon he didn't hear anything.

It was over and he was still alive. Then everything blacked out.

•••

Peter didn't sleep well at night and couldn't fall asleep during his usual nap. He couldn't stop thinking about his partner. His friend, who was now spending his night in the prison.

"It was him. You have to believe that it was him", he repeated in his head. But now he couldn't silence the voice telling that Neal was innocent.

There was so much evidence pointing to Neal. Well actually the tracking anklet had been turned off before and the last time it hadn't been Neal's fault. So maybe it wasn't this time either. But how could he explain the fingerprint?

"How could you be so sloppy you left a perfect fingerprint at the scene?" Peter thought.

Everything was too perfectly clear. As if Neal had wanted to get caught.

That's when he got a flash of realization. Neal wasn't that sloppy. Neal didn't get caught. Neal didn't leave his fingerprints to the scene. And if Peter was right, Neal wasn't even anywhere near the scene during the theft. Slowly Peter started believing Neal and his innocence.

But how could anyone prove that? The judge would send Neal to prison because the evidence was so clear and he would get at least four years. Probably even more.

The only person Peter knew that would try to get Neal out of this was Mozzie. The little man had freaked out completely when Peter called him and told what had happened. Mozzie didn't seem too worried of the possibility Neal committing a crime. He was worried that his friend got caught and would spend a half-decade in prison.

Peter wanted to help his friend. He didn't know yet if to believe his innocence or not. But he could try and find out. And to do that he needed Mozzie's help.

Peter dialed the number and got an answer immediately.

"Suit. I was wondering when you'd come to senses. Meet me at June's in an hour", Mozzie said to the phone mysteriously and closed the phone call before Peter had a chance to even open his mouth.