Hey, everyone! Sorry again that this is taking so long. I'm redoing my room, I'm drowning in homework, and at the same time I'm struggling to maintain my A (because it has never been an A before) in math. Oh, and I have college mail coming out of the woodwork. But I will try and keep writing fast enough for all of you! Don't give up on me! Reviews fuel the fire, so keep that in mind. Thanks so much for reading!
~Erika

Peter looked through the glass window into Anna's room. The young doctor was on life support. The bullet tore through her right lung, missing her heart by half an inch, before exiting her back. The doctors weren't sure if she was going to make it. They were amazed that she had survived as long as she did.

Peter shook his head. "It doesn't make sense," he muttered.

"What doesn't?" Jones asked from beside him.

"Jack knew everything we were going to do before we did it," Peter went on. "How?"

Jones and Diana exchanged glances. Neither knew the answer.

"We don't know, Peter," Jones admitted at last.

Peter hesitated, studying the two agents, then nodded. "Alright...you two go home. It's getting late; you should get some sleep," he said at last.

"But Peter," Diana protested, shocked. "We can't. Now it's just Neal and Jack. Neal's alone with him; there is no one for him to divert his anger to. You know how challenging Neal can be. How can you expect us to just sit back and leave him there?"

"I'm not asking you to do that," Peter sighed. "Look, you guys have been pulling all-nighters with me six nights a week for the past month trying to find Neal. You can try to hide it, but I can tell you're exhausted. And you're no good to anyone if you're passing out from sleep deprivation on the job. I'll work with Samson while you're out, ok? In fact, take tomorrow off. I have to babysit my niece while Elizabeth and her sister go shopping, anyway, so I'll be working from home. Samson's a good agent, and he knows this case just as well as any of us. We will find Neal. But I promise, I'll make sure you're there when we take Jack down. So go home, get some rest, and I'll see you guys later, alright?"

Jones and Diana exchanged glances, hesitating. It was true, they had only gotten about forty hours of sleep over the course of the last month, and they knew that that wasn't healthy, but neither wanted to go home and rest. They wanted to go help their friends find Neal. At the same time, however, one look at Peter's face, and they knew that the situation wasn't up for debate. With weary sighs, the two agents agreed, and reluctantly headed for home.

Peter watched them go, then drew his phone from pocket, and, checking to make sure no nurses were around, called Agent Samson.

"Hey, Samson," Peter greeted his fellow agent. "Listen, I need your help on a lead in Neal's case. Can you meet me at my house around ten tomorrow morning?" There was a pause, then Peter smiled. "Great. See you then."

Peter hung up the phone and yawned, exhausted. After another moment, he trudged out the door and got in his car, getting ready for yet another all-nighter...

The next morning...

Neal fiddled with his tie, trying to ignore the burning in his shoulder, surprised—and a little guilty—that he was actually excited to go to Spain. When his tie was presentable, the conman adjusted his collar and pulled on his jacket, wincing in pain and clenching his jaw. Just then, there was a knock on his door—Jack had gotten them set up in the home of a family who was away on vacation. They would never know they were there. Neal turned and saw his captor-turned-partner standing in the doorway.

"Hey," Jack greeted him. "Ready to go?"

"All set," Neal smiled, grabbing his fake passport from the side table and tucking into his inside jacket pocket.

"Great, let's go," Jack nodded out the door, "we've got a plane to catch."

Neal chuckled slightly, for some reason not even realizing that he was going along with everything the killer before him was saying. He didn't think about how he got the bullet wound in his shoulder. He didn't even think about Anna. He was comfortable around his kidnapper, but he didn't find that strange. No, he was much too far gone for that. His brain was telling him how to survive, and he was following its instructions whether he wanted to or not...and deep down, some part of him knew he didn't. But he couldn't stop himself, for more reasons than one. So he followed Jack without protest and climbed into their stolen car, then sat back as their journey got underway...

Across town, Agent Kyle Samson arrived at Peter's house at ten o'clock sharp, ringing the doorbell. A few moments later, Peter pulled the door open wide. He smiled when he saw his colleague standing before him.

"Kyle," Peter greeted him. "Come on in."

"Thanks," Kyle nodded, making his way into the house.

"Sorry you had to come all this way," Peter sighed. "I have to watch my two-year-old niece today, so..."

"Oh, is she upstairs?" Kyle asked, glancing up the staircase in front of the door.

"Yeah," Peter confirmed. "But don't worry. She's asleep, and once she's asleep, for at least the next six hours, not even World War Three could wake her up."

Kyle laughed, then took a seat at the kitchen table. "So what's this lead you were talking about?"

"Well," Peter sighed, folding himself into the chair next to the other agent. "We know that Jack somehow had to know what we were going to do before we did it; he always managed to get away before we got there. So, what I'm thinking is...as terrible the idea is...is that Jack has to have someone in the FBI working with him. I've already talked to Hughes about it, and he gave me permission to launch a discreet investigation to find out who..." Peter finished his sentence and yawned widely.

"Ok...ah, Peter? Do you want some coffee before we get started?" Kyle offered.

"Yeah, that would be great, thanks," Peter nodded eagerly, handing him his already-emptied FBI mug. Kyle chuckled, then grabbed the mug and stood up, going over to the coffee pot and filling the mug. The young agent glanced over his shoulder to make sure Peter wasn't paying attention. When he was sure he wasn't, Kyle pulled a small vial of clear liquid out of his pocket and unscrewed the cap, pouring it into the steaming black coffee. Then he made his way back to the table and handed Peter his drink, watching as he took a sip...