(Chapter 4)

Peter was back at the office, reality left behind as he came too where his dream had ended before he'd remembered what had happened and where he really was. The agent was still uncertain of a few details but one stuck out as he slumped back in the chair in this dream version of his office realizing Neal might be dead. He wiped at his face, sweat trickling down his temples but even if the dream felt real, he knew this wasn't where he currently resided. His mind was creating a more neutral landscape for him to relax in but he had to find Neal or at least get himself free from Erics and...

"Boss? They said they would fix the AC soon. Did you want something cold from the deli? Hughes authorized an ice cream or drink delivery."

Diana seemed so real as he automatically nodded, the heat unbearable but not the worse he'd felt. Maybe he was feverish? He was trying to remember why he would think that as he stood and walked out with her.

"I'll join you if that's ok. I could use some air."

His colleague nodded, Jones just downstairs in the bullpen to greet them. He was sweating a bit himself.

"This heat is unbearable. You'd think..."

The agent didn't finish his words, Peter waiting for his friend to continue when he found the scene suddenly fading to gray and his eyes opened back to the semi-darkness of the cavern. He was still tied up but the chain was no longer around him, eyes adjusting to the darker light and sweat dripping down his face as he realized he was hotter than he liked, a cold chill making his body ache. Was he running a fever? Footsteps came closer and he could just make out the form of Erics moving towards him. The gunman crouched beside him, dark eyes sparkling at him in the dim light.

"Looks like your friends left. Only been 3 days and they gave up on you so soon. I'm sure your buddy is out in the ocean by now. They never found his body..."

That's when Peter noticed the radio, a police scanner attached to the man's belt. Erics was listening in on the FBI and Marshals' investigation. He watched the man's eyes give him a once over before quickly pulling him up to his feet and holding a gun to his neck as he cut his legs loose.

"You're going to walk out of here, Agent. You're going to join your friend in the river."

Erics pushed him ahead, Peter's legs weak and sore but keeping him up despite everything. He felt tired, hungry and achy. He was going to die but maybe he could think of something along the way. Peter didn't want to give up while El was worried about him and Jones and Diana were hopefully still looking for them. His feet shuffled along, slipping a bit on the water slick surface. The sound of roaring he'd noticed before was getting closer he thought as a sense of fresher air and a breeze could be felt. Finally he squinted, Erics pushing him towards a bright opening and out into the gloomy yet still bright outdoors. They were under a rock overhang where the falls came down just a few yards ahead. Peter was poked by the gun again so he moved ahead tiredly, squinting in the brighter light and getting wet as they pushed through the falls along the side through a narrow water slicked ledge. He was going to move further along but after a few yards Erics stopped him.

"Far enough, Fed. I have a rendezvous to keep and your story ends here."

Peter didn't know what to think, no chance for him to do much in his weakened condition, arms bound tightly behind him. He could head butt the guy and try to run but the path was narrow and slippery. Peter wouldn't get far but he didn't want to end it here either. The gunman smirked, glancing over the edge a moment then back at him.

"You could try something but you're weak... How far would you get on your own, Agent?"

Erics chuckled lightly, holding up the gun to Peter's chest.

"I'll do you a favor and make it quick. I haven't time to hang around and play with you..."

The gun cocked, Peter feeling his throat tighten in nervous anticipation. He heard the report but saw no flash from the gun, his eyes staring directly into Erics'. He wasn't going to show he was afraid even if he was, his thoughts on his wife when he noticed that something was wrong. Erics stared at him intently before his face went tight with pain and he watched his captor fall into the roaring river below. It took a moment for him to realize what had happened, turning around and then looking up for a sign of who might have rescued him.

"Hello?"

He called out tentatively, voice still very hoarse but nobody answered. He couldn't see anyone around unless it was an FBI sniper. Suddenly it occurred to him he was technically free save for his bound arms, the agent feeling a bit of the tightness leave his throat and chest as he moved away from the edge and made slow motions along the narrow path towards what he hoped was drier ground. His ankle was still a bit sore from the fall down the incline but he could walk on it after 3 days of being unconscious. Mostly he was hungry and thirsty, both making him feel a bit dizzy not just from seeing his captor shot but not knowing if whoever shot Erics had been there to help. He kept that in the back of his mind as he did his best to just concentrate on getting to safety. So far he was still alive, shuffling as best he could towards the treeline as he walked off the slippery rock and onto a slightly muddy but more solid surface. He saw a rock, something like an arrowhead on the path before him as he moved towards it hoping to use it cut his bindings. Peter had barely moved when he heard the cocking of a gun and froze. Erics had fallen into the river hadn't he? The man couldn't have gotten out this quickly He'd seen the red stain on his chest. The man should be dead. Peter turned slowly, uncertain what to expect when he blinked in surprise.

"Neal?"

()()()

He was dreaming, face twitching slightly as he did so. He saw himself staring across a hanger at an airstrip where a small plane sat. He felt a sense of freedom, he was going somewhere special although a slight sense of wariness hit him as he crossed the cement to the blacktop beyond.

You said goodbye to everyone but me...

He turned, the voice one he felt familiar with. Safe. But that wariness remained as he stared across the space and saw two brown eyes. There was nothing but those two honest brown eyes looking at him, worrying about something.

You know why...

There was a hesitation as he answered back, his manner light but it was forced as he tried not to feel... guilt. Leaving wasn't his choice but it was the only thing he could do. He wanted to stay, those brown eyes telling him to remain there but the plane was waiting. She...

Tell me...

Those brown eyes drew him back, made him want to stay where he was. He was tired of running and being alone. This person worried about him but he didn't understand why. That's what confused him, a headache forming behind his eyes as he came to and saw he was no longer at the hanger from his dream but stuck on that rocky ledge from earlier. The rain had stopped, only a drizzle remaining but he had to get off of here to safety. He remembered someone had been above him but the light was different so time had passed. He needed help, pulling himself up to his feet and looking for a way up. There were handholds but the rock was muddy and slippery as he slowly inched his way up, his left arm useless. He could move it ok but it was hurting from the fall, however he had fallen to this jutting rock from above. Something told him he had been in worse situations, pulling himself up carefully, using his socked feet to get him more leverage until he was able to drag himself up over the top and lay securely on solid ground. He was exhausted, body aching but he had to get help as his eyes roved around and fell upon something on the ground a few feet ahead. It shone dully in the gray overhead and the mud it had fallen into. It was cold in his hand and something told him he didn't want to keep it but the memory of things he couldn't quite grasp at made him pocket the item as he limped through the damp forest.

It was some time later, maybe moments maybe hours, his mind still confused by the memory of the hanger and the man with brown eyes as the visual stuck with him. It felt real but his mind refused to tell him anything else as he moved towards the sound of the falls and looked down from the ridge. There were two figures there, one of them with brown hair, arms behind them and another with a dark camouflage jacket that kept their face hidden away. He sensed a fear wash over him from the last figure, his hand gripping the item in his pocket as he watched the two figures make their way around the edge of the falls. It was obvious the man with the camouflage jacket was about to do something bad, his hand raising as he watched the brown haired man turn and look at the other one bravely. Something in the back of his mind told him this was just a show but that the brown haired man wasn't a coward. He had to help, his hand raising up a bit more then...

The sound shocked him as he watched the two figures, the camouflaged one slumping after a moment and disappearing into the river below while the one with brown hair watched. He didn't know what he was doing, pushing his hand back into his pocket and moving away as if in a trance.

This isn't you... Look at me... LOOK. AT. ME!

Someone was talking to him, drawing his attention from a man with pale blond hair. The man looked scared, frightened and he was terrified but angry, the last emotion taking over. She... she had been waiting for him and now... The blond man had done something.

LOOK. AT. ME!

He turned, no person matching the voice but he had a vision of brown eyes meeting his. There was a worry there, a fear but finally he knew the man behind them was hopeful, true concern there. The man cared.

The memory ended and his eyes moved towards the tree line he had skirted, seeing a figure moving slowly from the falls towards him. He pulled his hand back from his pocket, raising it up. The brown haired man paused, stiffening at the sound the gun in his hand made. He didn't like guns but he had to protect himself... protect someone else. He had been doing that when he'd fallen, he remembered that much but not who as the hanger scene returned and slowly he found himself seeing those brown eyes staring back. The memory faded and still those brown eyes stared at him, a fear there now and then a more relaxed stare back as the man with brown hair smiled softly at him.

"Neal?"

The name meant nothing and yet a flash of memory returned to him, the man with brown hair and eyes speaking to him. They were sitting on a nice balcony or terrace, New York city sparkling in the night as they shared a drink. Slowly the scene came back to reality and he moved forward, gun still raised in his hand as the man remained still.

"Neal..."

The man kept calling out that name but he didn't speak back finally making a motion for the man to turn. Brown eyes looked at him curiously but he just made the motion for him to turn again, the brown haired man nodding.

"I trust you, Neal."

He watched the man turn slowly until his back was to him and he moved forward, gun in his pocket as he started to untie the man. The knots had been done securely but he was able to loosen them with some effort, using his other hand to help despite the pain from his dislocated shoulder. Finally the brown haired man was free, turning back to face him with a look of worry. The expression made his memory flash another scene, the man was crouched beside him where he sat on the floor, a strange feeling of drunkenness overcoming him.

You're the only one...

The only one what?

The only one I trust...

The man put a gentle hand on his head, a comfort there as his vision returned him to the present and the brown haired man again, those honest eyes staring back at him curiously.

Peter...

The man's name was Peter...

He worked for... the FBI.

Suddenly everything seemed to come back to him, a rush of images, voices and memories all at once like a flood hitting him like a tidal wave as he blinked and looked at the man again.

"P... ter."

The man nodded, smiling back as he moved closer and gently put a hand on his shoulder. He winced slightly, his bad shoulder reacting to the touch gentle as it was. He noticed the man remove his hand and frown, a concern there he suddenly understood as his memories seemed to give him more insight. He wasn't alone. He had a name now: Neal.

()()()

Peter frowned. Neal looked pretty beat up, much as he felt but they had to hold out a while longer for help. He was certain they weren't far from their original entry to the woods.

"Neal... We have to call for help. Think you can make it back to the car?"

He hoped it was still out there but after 3 days he thought it may have been towed back but it was worth a shot in case they ran into other agents. Erics couldn't be right that nobody was looking for them. He needed to know people were looking for them. Neal needed help, the younger man looking at him curiously. It was obvious his partner and friend had amnesia or at least something akin to shock, his manner off. There was a blankness in those normally bright eyes and he suspected Neal had shot Erics but he could only guess at this point as he felt the weight of the gun in his pocket. Neal had given it to him without a fight, no hint of wariness once he seemed to understand who he was and remembered his own name. It was apparent though that the con still had some doubts, their walk silent due to both of them being tired and beat up if anything.

"Peter..."

He turned, looking at the consultant whose eyes seemed just a bit duller than before. Something was wrong as he paused and gave his friend all of his attention.

"What is it, Neal?"

The light was starting to grow dimmer, the sun lower in the sky as they made their way through the woods and the agent started to suspect they were lost. They might have to make camp soon but he was hungry and thirsty and he suspected Neal was too. They were both worse for wear as he saw the younger man draw his thoughts together.

"I shot... him. Erics."

It was a quiet truth, the words strong but full of fear. Neal knew it was against his agreement and parole to kill another person much more have a gun but Peter wasn't going to let him get in trouble. It had been a momentary lapse and nobody had to know the specifics with Erics out of the picture. The man was dead. End of story. Much as revenge wasn't in his nature, Peter understood the implication of what had happened. He had killed Adler to save his partner. He was no saint.

"You did it for the right reasons, Neal. Nobody has to know. I'll take the blame."

He saw those blue eyes staring into his as if trying to read some ill intent but finally blinking back, head nodding as a sad smile crossed his face. He could tell that his friend was still confused. Neal was with him if only just, nothing like the usual lively personality he was used to. This was a quieter version of his friend or maybe he was hurt more than he thought but Peter couldn't do much while also exhausted and just running on fumes. He heard his stomach growl and sighed, Neal looking at him a moment then away again. He thought about something but put the idea away for a moment. They couldn't be too far from where they had parked but if they ended up lost, it would be easier going back towards the falls and finding shelter there. Neal trudge quietly along with him, Peter not feeling too talkative himself but once in awhile they would stop and he would talk to his friend to comfort both of them.

"I hope El isn't too worried. She hates it when I don't show up for dinner... or breakfast."

He watched Neal blink at him a moment then a slight smirk form on the younger man's face, his head leaning back against a tree trunk as they sat on the damp ground and took a breather. He didn't remember it taking this long to get out to the ridge when they were chased by Erics but maybe his memory of the time was skewed by three days unconscious. At worse he could shoot something for them to eat but Peter was still feeling a bit off from his 3 days without food much more little water as he moved to rise. His legs were a bit shaky a wave of dizziness making him feel a bit sick until it passed and he moved to nudge Neal awake.

"Come on Neal. We need to keep moving."

It was getting dark now, the sun just passing below the horizon but still giving enough light to see by. He had nothing on him for light or a fire and he doubted Neal did from the looks of it. Their only other choice if the car didn't pan out was to go back to the falls. He remembered Erics saying something about supplies and food. He could only guess they were in the cave if not that cabin they'd gone to see the witness at. Which way had that been? Peter tried to think as he nudged his friend again.

"Neal..."

His partner didn't move, eyes shut but the young man's face was relaxed, jaw slightly slack but not open as Peter crouched beside Neal and opened one eye. He saw the larger pupils and now he saw the gash just under the young man's hairline, blood washed away with the rain with only dark clots hidden in his hair. He shook his friend gently, feeling for breath and a pulse and finding both. Neal was alive but he had passed out, Peter ready to do the same but trying to keep moving for their own sake. The sun was already beneath the horizon with only a hint of light coming across through the trees. He couldn't carry his friend so Peter sat there, making Neal comfortable as he stayed beside him, his own eyes feeling heavy. Could he make a fire with loose wood? He glanced around trying to find something to keep active with but everything around them was still damp from the rain. He'd need something to actually make a fire with, pulling out the gun as he crawled a few feet away, pushing some small bits of twigs, moss and a bit of his own shirt for kindling. He shot the cloth, watching it singe and then a bit of flame flicker as he moved in to blow on it and keep it alive. It was weak at best, smoke rising up in a small snaking spiral before it went out. Everything was too wet and both men needed some way to keep warm as he cursed, turning back to see Neal hadn't moved. The gunshot hadn't woken his friend as he went back and checked for a pulse and breath again. Neal was still with him and for now he would have to be happy with that as he leaned the con against him and tried to keep them both warm as the night gathered around them, the air growing slightly cooler.

"We'll be ok, Neal. Everything will be ok."

()()()

Earlier...

Jones sighed, running a hand over his hair as he turned at the sound of someone else walking over. It was Diana, her own face set in a worried frown. It had been three days, the rain hampering their search for both Peter and Neal. They're found the cabin on day one, a trail leading there before they saw the body inside. Forensics found enough evidence despite the weather to prove their colleagues were there but not where they had gone.

"No sign of either Caffrey or Burke. It's as if they vanished along with the person who killed Davids. He was our key witness to putting Erics and his men away."

She sounded tired and frustrated, everyone damp from the bit of drizzle falling around them. The weather was getting cooler, the sky gray enough to match the gloom of their moods. Jones nodded back, pointing back the way they had come.

"They were parked that way. Let's look over there. We might find some clue."

She nodded back, Jones following his fellow White Collar agent. They had missing persons working on this as well but they had insisted on mounting a collaborative effort if only for a few days to find their missing agent and consultant. Hughes gave them three days, telling both Barrigan and himself to back off and give forensics and Rice their space. It had been a difficult decision but they'd agreed. Three days had gone by faster than they hoped, the agent glancing back over at the falls below before following Diana into the brush. They only had today and then they were off the case. They had to make their search mean something.

()()()

Neal... that's what the brown haired man called him. It sounded ok for a name but at the moment he wasn't sure that's who he was. He held the gun before him uncertain what to think as he noticed little things suddenly that made curious. The man was bound with rope, his arms pulled tightly behind him. He didn't feel any fear as he had looking at the man in camouflage so maybe his intuition was right. He felt some ease around this person but until he knew why...

He motioned for the man to turn, a hesitation there before the man said he trusted him and finally turned. They were both hesitant, "Neal" moving to untie the man as he pushed the gun into his pocket and worked at the rough knotted line. He could see where it had dug into the man's light skin, small welts and bruises there and hints of something larger like chains having bound the man. He felt a kind of anger at the idea of someone hurting him but he wasn't sure why, the idea passing quickly as he finished and the man turned back around slowly, hands out in the open.

Neal was his name. The man knew him and as his mind started to settle and his thoughts coalesce he found he remembered more although his voice seemed to have left him, only a few words coming from his lips. He was tired more than anything, relieved in a way that Peter was there. The agent led him through the woods and finally they sat after what seemed more than an hour. Were they lost? He wasn't certain, no memory of their trek out to the ridge although they must have come out there, a faint glimmer of someone laying on the ground inside a cabin flashing before his eyes and then nothing. He sat down heavily, head leaning back against the rough wet bark of a large oak. Neal just wanted to rest, Peter talking to him off and on but he didn't feel much like talking. This wasn't his usual way but he was just too exhausted to use the energy, saving it for keeping on his feet. Now he was relaxed, the aches draining from his body some as he sensed his eyelids growing heavier, closing and then he was passing into oblivion again, someone gently shaking him but he couldn't respond. His body refused to move, Neal relaxing more than he wanted as the voice and sense of someone beside him vanished and he woke up to another reality.

Peter?

Neal glanced around as he sat up on the ridge, his eyes moving towards the sound of someone gasping for breath. He turned to see the man in the camouflage jacket, back to him as he stood hovering over another figure on the muddy ground. The con wasn't sure what he was going to see as the figure moved aside ever so slightly and he saw a brown haired figure laying there, the mud darkening more beneath them by the moment. Someone laughed, cold dark eyes turning towards him as they pinned Neal in place like a snake with its prey.

You're next, pretty boy.

Neal felt his chest constrict, Peter's brown eyes looking at him where he lay dying in the mud. Erics had shot him. Neal raised his hand up, something cold and metallic in his hands. He pointed it between those black eyes...

Neal woke up with a gasp, pushing to get up and run but he was having more problems breathing as he started to hyperventilate. Someone held him gently, wrapping their arms firmly around his chest to keep him still. He was panicking, elbowing the person holding him until they spoke.

"It's ok, Neal... wake up. You're dreaming. Breathe..."

Peter was talking to him, his chest still hurting but Neal nodded, finally giving in and relaxing enough that he could breathe in and out more comfortably. Once his body had settled he slumped heavily against his friend, a comforting hand smoothing his hair and patting him on the shoulder. He gazed around and saw it was dark, night having fallen at some point after he passed out. They were still in the woods and it was cooler than before, his body shivering slightly. He could sense Peter was doing the same as he sat up and turned to look at the agent, his friend's face bathed in shadow.

"Thanks... Peter."

He wanted to say more but he was still too tired to form the words he wanted to say much less a full conversation. His normally silver tongue had tarnished and he was happy to be able to speak at all. Peter nodded back, only a hint of movement in the darkness as the agent shifted beside him.

"Feeling better? I tried to make a fire but failed miserably. Everything's too damp from the rain but I think I know where we can find some supplies if you're up to it."

Neal nodded back, pulling himself up but feeling a strong hand gently ease him back to the ground.

"Rest some more. It's too dark to see without any light. I don't want to take another tumble down an incline."

Peter's voice was gentle, bemused in it's tone, Neal remembering wrapping the agent's ankle suddenly as the memory returned. They were fleeing the cabin and Erics. Peter had fallen through the brush down a steep incline, Neal following a little more agilely.

"I remember... wrapped your ankle with a sleeve from my shirt and my favorite tie. How is it?"

He'd sat down again, leaning against the tree in the dark as Peter sat nearby, his breath evident. The agent sounded tired but well as he tried to analyze how his friend was in the gloom.

"Better. 3 days unconscious and not moving must have healed it."

He gave a humorless laugh, Neal perking up at those words. 3 days? Had he lay out on that jutting rock that long? He gave an audible intake of breath without thinking about it, someone gently touching his shoulder and calming him. It was unnerving being in the darkness but he could stand it with his friend here.

"I thought... but it's ok now. You're here, Neal. When the light is up, I'm sure they'll be back to look for us."

Peter's voice continued to sound hopeful despite the current hopelessness of their situation. Neal wanted to curl up and give in, his body exhausted but a part of him felt the same as his friend, his hand moving to touch Peter's.

"I was just a surprised to find out how long... I'd been out. Sorry for the scare. I thought I had things planned out. Didn't expect hitting my head on the way down."

He reached up to feel the gash along his hairline, the spot still sensitive as he winced and he sensed Peter was worried but he reassured him. The agent patted his shoulder gently, pulling him closer.

"We have to keep warm. Rest, Neal. I'll take first watch."

Neal wanted to argue but once he was leaning against his friend, the little bit of warmth Peter offered seemed reasonable and his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. He knew his friend was also tired but his body gave into it, his head nodding slightly as he lay his head against Peter's shoulder and slowly passed into a light sleep.

You said goodbye to everyone but me.

You know why...

Tell me...

Because... Because you're the only one who could talk me out of this.

oOoOoOo

Author's Note: More excitement to come, I promise.