Author's Note: Hello my bloodthirsty fans…. Yeesh your demand for angst and whumpage are amazing! You sent poor Neal running and hiding in the closet…. To bad that won't save him!

Neal: Huh? But I have a DOOR between you and me!

Me: Oh Neal, you are hilarious if you think a piece of wood can interfere with my imagination.

Neal: Oh crap…

Anyways on with the story!

The suited figure leaned against the walls of the elevator and smiled at the young woman next to him. Her emerald colored eyes flashed a greeting back at him and she smiled. Her long red hair clung to her hands and flowed around her waist like a light cloud.

Another man stood in the corner of the doorway and watched the couple with a grim smile on his face. He had a thick file tucked under one arm and he was looking forward to get the plan going in motion.

"Hate to break up the chitter chatter you lovebirds are having over there, but we do have something that we need to get done."

The man and woman stopped and abruptly turned to face the suited man. The lady had a small scowl on her face, obviously resenting the fact that she had been interrupted.

The suited figure ignored the indignant expression and stopped the elevator so that they could have some privacy. "Ruth, you are an assassin, yes?"

The woman nodded, her eyes lighting up with a sadistic glint. She licked her lips and leaned forward to take the file from the older man and frowned when he pulled it back towards his own body.

"Patience Ruth, it won't kill you."

The red-head pulled a face but didn't respond for a long moment. "May I please see the folder?"

"Yes, you may since you asked. Nicely." The suited man was clearly toying with her.

The emerald eyes skimmed over the contents and she nodded several times in satisfaction. "What would you like for me to do to him?"

"Whatever you wish. Just make sure his partner sees it clearly and is unable to help him."

The other man shifted and looked at his superior uncomfortably. "What am I supposed to do?"

The white suited man passed his accomplice a police officer uniform. "You are to escort her into the prison under the pretense that you have successfully captured and found her guilty. She is to share the large cell with the other inmates. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

Peter Burked had never been so excited about waking up early on a Saturday morning. It was three o' clock in the morning when the federal agent gave up on the pretenses of sleep and crept out of his bedroom. He didn't want to disturb El; she deserved a good night's sleep.

He couldn't believe that he was actually excited about going to a prison on a Saturday. To many people it would be strange, even weird but then again Peter wasn't like other people. Other law officers weren't best friends with a con artist.

If he had thought that the first five days without Neal were horrible then he didn't know what he had been thinking. Surely, the last few days had been even worse. His mouth was constantly dry, and he wasn't moving forward at all in the current case. Hell, he hadn't gotten a single case done since Neal had left. Well, I take that back. We did solve those mortgage fraud cases but seriously, any ninny could do those.

He glanced around the dark kitchen and flipped the light switch up so that he could see what he was doing better. You're losing your touch old man. He scolded himself as he dumped some coffee into the coffee pot. You used to solve tons of cases like this before you had even come across the name Neal Caffrey or any of his aliases.

Peter groaned as he realized that it hadn't even been two minutes since he had gotten up. Could this day go any slower?

If Neal Caffrey had been asked that question he would have said that was impossible. His left leg was torn open from the lower part of his ankle (just barely missing the tendon) to his upper calf and it hurt. Like hell.

He directed his glare up at the man standing over him and attempted to scoot backwards when the figure stepped forward. The key in the other man's hand was bloody and so were his hands.

Neal shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny that the man was giving him and wished that he would go away. Danchien walked over from his end of the cell to inspect his friend's handy-work. He elbowed Neal in the gut to keep him from pulling away before lifting the injured leg up so that he could better inspect it.

Neal hissed sharply and tried to pull away as Danchien skimmed the tips of his fingers along the injury with a smile. "Hope you weren't planning on going anywhere Caffrey."

The younger man simply growled something sharply before yanking his leg out of Danchien's grasp. The older man scowled and slammed Neal's head against the wall causing the young ex-felon to see stars and groan.

The last thing he needed was a headache right now.

"You're still going to have to show me how you got out last time Caffrey. We both know you did it and I don't care if your leg hurts or not. You are going to walk regardless." The older man's voice was a snarl as he stared intently into the pain fogged blue eyes.

The only option Neal felt was suitable was to nod an acceptance. Apparently it was the correct way of handling the situation because it made both of his tormentors leave. He briefly wondered what Peter was doing before leaning back against the wall and with a soft sigh closed his eyes.

It was seven in the morning when the woman was shoved into the cell. One of the men whistled and she rolled her eyes before giving him the finger and told him to back off. A different one came up close to try to 'get acquainted' and found himself hurled to the ground and pinned down before he could even blink.

"I said back off. Next time I'll make it hurt." Her flame colored hair was pulled back into a French braid but it still managed to look fierce. Her emerald eyes darted around the room from man to man daring them to come closer. She released a now thoroughly-cowed convict and watched with a smirk as he scrambled away.

Danchien watched her with a respectful smile on his face. Finally! It was about time he shared his cell, his kingdom with a respectable criminal. He decided that it would be best if she came to him instead of him approaching her.

At least until he saw her approach Caffrey. That wasn't acceptable. Caffrey was his and he wasn't going to share the young con artist turned FBI bitch with anyone. That would be his pleasure alone. Neal was his to torture, to torment and make utterly miserable.

Chest puffed out he stalked over to her and glared at her threateningly. She looked up at him and smiled before turning back to Neal. Her fingers ran along his exposed throat, skimming his skin in a strange manner before coming to rest over his pulse. Amazingly, the young man didn't even twitch.

"Don't. Touch. Him." Danchien growled as he stood over the flame haired intruder. Who does she think she is, touching my enemy?

"Sorry, didn't know he was off-limits." Her expression was innocent as she widened her brilliantly green eyes. "My name is Ruth, yours?"

"Danchien." The tone in his voice told her that he wanted her to back away from the kid.

She was just about to reply when four of the guards walked into the cell. All of the criminals backed off to the other side of the cell and nervously stayed away from the flame haired fiend.

Two of them reached down and hoisted Neal into a standing position and jostling woke the younger man up in a state of surprise. He looked around wildly before realizing that he was leaving the cell. The thirty two year old winced as his bad leg was put to work and gritted his teeth.

It felt like days had passed by the time the five men had gotten down the hallway and into the meeting room. Neal's leg had reopened from the strain of being used but the younger man gave no indication of feeling it. He also made sure the guards didn't notice as he did his best to keep from limping and to keep the pace.

Neal sighed in relief when the door opened and then sat into one of the chairs; pain and exhaustion were written on the lines in his face.

Five minutes later Peter and Elizabeth Burke walked into the room and Neal rose to greet them without thinking about his leg. The injured limb protested violently and the younger man felt it give way and would have hit the ground hard if not for Peter.

The older man gently lowered him to the ground and the looks of concern and anger were fighting for dominance on his face. Neal looked up at him in confusion, obviously wanting to know why he was on the ground before he remembered his leg.

Nice move wise guy, he scolded himself as he fought the nausea in his stomach. His leg hurt tremendously and he squeezed his eyes shut. They flew open again though when he felt someone lift the limb up to inspect the damage. He yelped loudly and tried to twist away but Peter held him still, and spoke soothingly into his ear.

"Hey, hey, easy Neal." Peter coaxed when he saw the wild and pain filled look that entered his partner's eyes. "Take it easy buddy."

Neal seemed to calm down but he still jerked reflexively when Elizabeth started to examine him again. A soft whimper slipped past his lips as the woman he considered to be the mother-figure in his life began to wrap something that looked like a shawl around his injury.

"El, you don't ha-" Neal stopped talking when Elizabeth fixed him with the 'I-dare-you-to-finish-that-sentence-young-man' look. He looked away miserably and shifted so that his weight wasn't centered on his good leg.

"Neal, what happened?" Peter's voice sounded concerned as he skimmed over the rest of his partner's body, trying to tell if he was hurt anywhere else.

"I went in a jail cell, what else do you think happened?" Neal snipped.

Peter gave Neal the look.

"I got the key an-"

"What key?"

"The one I had to lift-"

"You stole a key?"

"I prefer borrowed. Anyways I gave the key to Danchien an-"

"You gave it to Danchien?"

"That's what I said."

"You. Gave. Danchien. A. Key."

"Are you a broken record player?"

"Neal why did you give him the key?"

"If you would let me finish you would know."

"Continue."

"Thanks for the permission… I gave it to him to earn his trust some more. I had already moved up in rank and thought I was doing well. Only after he got the key…."

"Oh Neal you are quite pathetic you know that?" Danchien continued to walk around the younger man in circles as he glanced around at the circle of gathering convicts. "None of us like the FBI or its bitches and now your one of their tools so we don't like you. I never liked you personally anyways…"

One of the other men snickered and elbowed his neighbor good-naturedly.

Danchien lashed out so suddenly the young consultant didn't have the chance to react. The next thing Neal was aware of was Danchien looming over him with a wicked sneer painted across his thin lips.

"You're FBI masters must be so pleased with your work if they threw you so willingly to the wolves like this. Its like throwing a chum out into shark infested waters and expecting the sharks not to eat it if not at least come up to inspect it." Danchien's eyes glinted excitedly as he carefully placed a foot on Neal's exposed stomach.

Neal twisted desperately and managed to throw Danchien off-balance. The younger man scrambled upright and backed away from his enemy. Regaining his feet, Neal looked around opting for a way out. He tried to surge through one opening but was shoved back into the middle of the ring roughly. The man that had pushed him back wore a sneer on his face.

The young ex-con turned to face Danchien just in time to catch a blow to the cheekbone and his head snapped back. Neal staggered and sought to keep his footing knowing that if he went down he was done for. He lashed out and caught Danchien in the stomach so forcefully that he could hear the other man's breath expel out of his lungs.

Neal winced knowing that would hurt and not liking the fact that he had been forced to hurt someone. Even if it was in self defense.

One of the convicts from the circle growled something angrily and came up from behind Neal. The latter felt the hands grip his shoulders and he tried to twist out of the grip. Before he could get even a little wriggle room he was flipped onto his back. Danchien walked over rubbing his stomach gingerly and placed his foot back onto Neal's exposed mid-section. The man that had flipped Neal continued to hold the young man down.

Danchien grinned and leaned his weight forward, a grin splitting across his face when he saw Neal grimace. "What's the matter Caffrey? The ground not good enough for you?" He punctuated the last sentence by putting his full weight onto Neal's stomach.

Neal couldn't breath and it scared him. His lungs tried to pull in more oxygen but they didn't have the required room to expand so they didn't. He gasped and tried to twist out of the grip but only managed to get another foot placed on his torso. His eyes widened as he realized that Danchien was now standing completely on top of him.

He could literally feel his ribs bending, trying to support the unexpected weight. They were doing a good job, or they were until Danchien decided to use Neal like a trampoline.

This time there was a loud snapping noise as Danchien landed and Neal screamed as pain rocketed through his system. He saw his tormentor grin and squeezed his eyes shut. The weight vanished a few minutes later and he sighed in relief. Maybe they would leave him alone now.

No such luck. Instead the thirty two year old felt someone grab his left leg and hold it in a tight grip. Almost like a Ferrier would to a horse he was about to shoe. Then pain tore through his system starting at the back of his leg by his tendon connecting leg with the ankle and felt it grow almost in a spiral motion until it reached the back of his upper calf up by the back of his knee.

He screamed. There was no way he could hold it back, not when they were essentially (what felt like to him) cutting his leg off. Someone jammed a rag into his mouth to muffle the sound and he choked as his airway was blocked.

Neal felt himself being dragged over to the corner and whimpered softly as his injured leg scraped along the rough prison flooring. His head cracked against the wall and he allowed the darkness to take him without a fight.

"We need to get you out of here." Peter stated when Neal had finished talking. The younger man rolled his eyes with a sigh of exasperation.

"Thank you Captain Obvious."

Peter rolled his eyes and looked up at El. His wife's face was white and the hand holding the shawl in place was trembling. "Are you alright El?"

She nodded and attempted a weak smile, "Yeah, I'm fine."

The guard sighed restlessly as he paced back and forth. He was bored and the end of his shift was coming up soon. He couldn't wait to get home to watch the newest episode of Covert Affairs and was going to be pissed if the prisoner he had brought to the meeting room made him late.

A slim, tall figure slipped out of a different door dressed in a white suit. He approached the guard with an envelope. The guard noticed this and his eyes glinted with curiosity.

"I have a favor to ask of you…"

Fifteen minutes later the guard walked into the room and headed over to where Neal was. "Time's up." His voice was cold and unfeeling.

"He needs medical attention." The other male's voice spoke up. The figure turned from the young consultant in front of it to face the guard. His id tag named him as Peter Burke.

"Our medical section is temporarily closed at the moment."

Peter swore so violently that even El raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well make it temporarily open."

"I can't do that."

"You will if you want to keep your job."

The guard simply shook his head, shifting so that he could feel the weight of the envelope in his inner pocket. "I can't do that."

"Do what? Keep your job?"

"Sir, don't make me ban your right to visit."

Peter growled and suggested that the man do something that was disturbing not to mention physically impossible.

Neal pulled away from his partner, not wanting Peter's ability to visit him revoked. The visits were and would continue to be the only thing he looked forward to. Well, those and getting out of here.

Peter growled and forcibly made Neal lie back down, unaware of the pained grimace that the motion caused.

"Peter, I'll be fine."

"That's got to be the biggest load of bull I have ever heard."

"No, really I'll be fine." Neal insisted stubbornly. "You'll be able to get me out of here now that I'm hurt soon right?"

Peter looked away from the imploring blue eyes that Neal turned his way. He didn't want to face the trust and loyalty that those eyes held for him.

You're the only one.

The only one what?

The only one that I trust.

"I hope so Neal." Peter didn't want to promise the kid what he didn't know that he could or couldn't do.

Didn't want to raise any false hopes.

"You'll come to get me. I know you will, but for now I need to go back. That way you'll be allowed to come and get me."

Peter sighed as he helped the young man to his feet and steadied him when it looked like Neal's leg was about to buckle again. Neal offered him a weak smile before stepping away from Peter unsteadily. El moved forward and took Peter's arm when it looked like he was about to follow his partner back out the door.

He sighed reluctantly and followed her out their designated door.

Neal stumbled when he was roughly thrown into the door and half wished that he could go to the medical part of the prison. If only to escape what he knew he would face as he stumbled back into the cell.

The young man looked up just in time for a fist to connect with his cheek bone and he collapsed into a world of darkness.

Author's Note: Hmmm... did that satisfy your lust for Neal whumpage? (at least for now?) I also decided to throw in a bit of Protective Peter (in case you didn't notice sarcastically speaking). Peter's going to have it in for himself eventually because he is now behaving like Neal used to when I was trying to draw Neal. Which is why I started writing fanfiction to begin with. Ever since then Neal has been an angel when I draw him out of fear of what I'll do to him next. (hey, it works doesn't it?) If you guys go to . you can see my White Collar drawings as well as the other art that I'm involved with. The Neal Caffrey Complete pic is the one that started this spree of fanfictions so yeah...

Garr... kept righting bits and pieces of Untimely Phobia in this story for a while... guess Neal is telling me that he's ready for whatever it is I'll be dishing out to him in the next update which will hopefully be soon. Geeze haven't updated Some Things Are Better Left Unassumed in a while and I need to work on The House of Death as well...

Oh, I PUT UP A POLL TO LET YOU GUYS DECIDE WHICH STORY I SHOULD WRITE AFTER I WRAP AT LEAST ONE OF THE ABOVE UP! The options from the poll have a brief description in the Upcoming White Collar Stories portion of my profile so please pick one and vote for it...

As always your reviews are like fuel to a fire for me so please help me keep that fire ignited!