Author's Note: I say that updates will be more frequent and yet this is probably the most you've ever waited for a chapter... -_-' sorry. I swear though, updates will come!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, only Emmy, Roy, and all other bad guys. Everything else is not mine. (no matter how hard I wish for it.)

Enjoy!


"Play it again."

They had just finished watching the tape for the second time, the first time Peter couldn't get past the beating Neal had taken. The second, he had tried not to watch as his partner was hit over and over again by the mobsters and tried to gather as much details as he could. "Are you sure Boss?" Diana asked, her voice cautiously neutral. She didn't voice it, but she knew that there was only so much torture a person can stand and this video made it seem like Neal had endured the maximum.

Roy had insisted upon staying in the room, but now he was regretting his decision. Not only did he feel like he was the one that made this happen to Neal, he felt the sparking of a jealous rage start inside him. It was directed towards Peter, of course. The fed thought that he could persuade Neal to become a good guy like the rest of the Feds in the world… It was sickening to watch up close. Neal didn't belong in the world of do-gooders and the sooner Peter learned that, the better.

Peter nodded his head to Diana to show that he wanted, no needed to watch it again. He knew that this case was serious to begin with, but he was using kid's gloves with it. He felt like he needed to remind himself of just what they were dealing with. And the video made sure of that.

The video started and the first thing that Peter sees is Neal, panting hard to catch his breath. There are small cuts on his face and upper torso, but Peter saw nothing that was cause for worry, that is until the rest of Neal's body was shown in the video. There's a gunshot that is still bleeding freely on his shoulder, and the bruises on his lower chest have turned an ugly purple hue.

Neal seems to be watching someone warily, as if at any moment they will strike him dead. Peter winced involuntary at the metaphor, seeing as how someone might just kill Neal at any time. The man who Neal has been watching intently finally comes into view, and Peter recognizes him to be the man behind the curtain. Benedict Aldo.

He has a somewhat bloody knife in his hands and he appears to be admiring both the length and the sharpness of the blade. But Peter knows it to be a ruse. He knows that it's just a ruse in order to get Neal to talk about the money.

"I hear you are quite famous now Neal. Just one mention of your name and it does wonders." Aldo said with a wave of his knife wielding hand.

"Well I always knew I was popular." Neal says, his voice somewhat strained. The way Neal is acting makes Peter want to jump in the video and scream, 'Shut up Neal! You're just making things worse!' but he manages to hold himself back.

A smirk appeared on Aldo's face as he said, "Popular enough for even the Feds to want you?"

Neal looked at Aldo with what seemed to be an unsure expression before it changed to an expression Peter knew well, it was one of pretend mirth, "What can I say? The Bureau has fine taste in con men."

Aldo turned his head away from Neal, an angry frown on his face. He looked at the camera and Peter shivered when he saw Aldo's eyes. They held no emotion whatsoever, and his once dazzling green eyes turned dark and cold. He took one second to admire the blade and then he promptly sliced Neal across the chest. This is the third time Peter has seen this video and yet he jumps every time he sees Aldo slice Neal like he's a piece of meat.

Neal let out a yelp of surprise at the move, and a sharp intake of breath was heard as the blood dripped slowly from the wound. Neal tried to rein in control of his reflexes as he looked straight at the camera. An unknown emotion flashed through his eyes before Aldo put his hands on Neal's shoulders and whispered loudly, "Don't get smart with me Caffrey."

Neal held back a gasp and fought to stay conscious. His shoulder felt like it was on fire, and he could feel the blood soaking through his ripped shirt. It must have caught on something on his less than stellar ride in the trunk. Neal pushed the thought aside; he had better things to do than to wonder where his shirt had ripped. Like how the hell he was going to get out of this situation alive. He doubted that Vincenzio would stick around for long; he was the only one that didn't want Neal to be killed.

Aldo finally released his death grip on Neal and a small sigh of relief was heard through the video. Peter released a breath he didn't know he was holding. 'This is my entire fault… If only I brought him in earlier... then maybe he wouldn't be in this situation.' Peter mused darkly as he watched Neal look into the camera once more. There was something about his gaze that made Peter wonder. Was Neal trying to give him a message? Or was it just a reflex?

Peter didn't have a chance to ponder it anymore. Aldo threw the bloody knife onto what Peter assumed to be a table that was conveniently out of the camera's range and began to pace quietly, muttering words that weren't picked up by the recording device. After a few seconds, Peter saw that wild look in Aldo's eyes again and hoped to God that Neal would be alright. But no, Peter knew somewhere in the back of his mind that Neal would not be alright after this. God only knew how he would be after what he went through.

Suddenly Aldo kicked over the chair that Neal was tied to, making the young con man fall over with it. Neal began coughing, so loudly that it made Peter wince. Aldo made his way over to the camera, placing his face close to it. He said darkly, "By now, you must know that I do not fool around when it comes to thieves. You have until tomorrow at noon to find my money, or Caffrey dies. I will not hesitate to kill him. I will be waiting at Central Park. If anyone but Daniel Clark delivers the money, Caffrey dies. And if I see any Feds trying to follow me, I will splatter Caffrey's brains out."

The screen went black after that. Peter glanced over at Roy who had taken refuge over by the windows. Before he confronted Roy about the money, he said, "Jones, Diana, get a team together. Get the good agents if you can."

Jones and Diana made their way out of the conference room as Peter walked towards Roy. Roy looked up at Peter with a look of disgust mixed with anger. Peter knew the man had an issue with him but he didn't know it would go this far. "Where's the money Roy?" He asked.

"What money?" Roy said with an angry look. It made his blue eyes light up in a way that Peter has never seen before. He assumes that if Neal ever got angry enough, his eyes would look the same.

"The money that you stole." Peter emphasized the word stole before continuing, "I know you're Daniel Clark. Neal told me about what he did for you. And now he's paying the price."

"So what? Neal can take care of himself."

An angry sigh escaped Peter's lips before he said, "If you paid any attention to that video you would know that this isn't a situation Neal can get out of alive. He can't escape that place without our help."

"What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is that the longer you stay here, wasting time we don't have, the bigger chance Neal will die." Roy averted his eyes and looked back outside at the New York streets. He knew that he would have to make a decision within the next hour or so. It seemed like an easy one, 100 grand or Neal. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't risk being indicted, not now.

A tense silence passed between the two men. Peter knew that they had a mutual dislike of each other, but he was being the bigger man. He was at least trying to forget about it until they could get Neal back. After that, Peter had no problem throwing Roy in prison for what he did.

"Now where's the money Roy?" Roy finally looked Peter in the eyes and he regretted every minute of it. Sure, he wanted to help Neal, but Roy would rather face the wrath of Aldo than to go to prison. He wouldn't voice it of course, but he feared prison because of his father. His father was a wealthy business man, who Roy thought traveled the world saving children from war. Roy couldn't be any more wrong about his father's work. He found out when he was about 13 or so. He found out that his father wasn't saving anyone, he was killing them brutally. Roy had helped the police by sending pictures of his father with the bodies. Soon his father was sent to prison for life, and Roy knew just by the look on his face, that he knew Roy had helped with the indictment. He knew that his own son had betrayed him.

"I… I can't tell you."

Another sigh was expelled from Peter's lips but this time it was more calm, more frustrated than anything. Roy wasn't going to tell him where the money was. He was more afraid of being convicted than risking his life for Neal, who was like a student to him. Granted, Roy did teach Neal all the wrong things in life, like how to crack a safe and paint impeccable forgeries, but a teacher is a teacher.

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Neal lay on the dusty floor of the chamber, breathing hard. It was getting harder and harder to catch his breath. It didn't help that minutes before Aldo had stormed out of the chamber, he had forcefully kicked Neal in the chest five times. The camera had thankfully not captured that moment, but Neal knew that Peter would be holding back his anger when viewing the video. Peter had a way of worrying about Neal during dangerous operations. Neal didn't mind it once in a while but sometimes he had to remind the man that he doesn't have to worry about him all the time.

He closes his eyes, concentrating on slowing his breathing. He wasn't aware of it, but he fell into the pit of darkness known as unconsciousness soon after closing his eyes.

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(A couple of months after Neal found out about Emmy and her father.)

Summer was ending and Neal was antsy about the upcoming school year. Emmy had asked if he was going to join her in the newly rebuilt high school and Neal hadn't answered. He wanted to go of course, but he didn't know how Roy would take it. They weren't supposed to be in town for long. Neal could tell that Roy was eager to leave this small quaint town behind.

The topic had come up one day, when the both of them were enjoying a warm summer evening at the lake. Emmy was dipping her legs into the cool water while Neal was sitting under a tree, drawing in a sketch pad. He wouldn't show Emmy any of his drawings, not for fear of them being judged, but for fear of something else entirely. Neal wouldn't show her because it was Emmy he was drawing. They were at the lake almost every day and everyday Neal would draw her. Without her knowing of course.

"School is going to start soon Nick." Emmy stared at the blue sky, admiring the fluffy clouds that lie there. She smiled as she turned her head towards Neal. He was half paying attention to her and the other half was to his drawing. He looked at peace with himself, like he was content with how his life had turned out so far. He wouldn't voice it, but Emmy knew that his life had been hard. She had never met his uncle, but she had heard enough things in town to know that he was… shifty.

He finally looked up from his drawing when she continued to talk, "Are you excited?"

The question made Neal break his pencil tip against the piece of paper, successfully making a dark mark in the middle of the drawing, where Emmy's hair was shown blowing in the wind. He shrugged as he reached for the pencil sharpener he always had with him. "I don't know… I'm not a big fan of school to begin with."

Which was marginally true; Neal understood the material better than most of the other students. That meant that he was able to do whatever he wanted while the others went over review work. School got boring after a while. Emmy stopped kicking her legs in the water and gave Neal a weird look. Neal just continued sharpening as if he hadn't noticed the look.

"Really? I would have thought you liked it. Seeing as how you like to flaunt your smarts to me every time I say something wrong about art." Neal chuckled to himself as Emmy continued to kick her legs back and forth. He had shown Emmy Roy's stash of paintings one day, when Roy was out somewhere for the day. Luckily Roy hadn't caught them looking, but Neal made sure to cover his tracks when cracking the hidden wall safe in Roy's room. She had commented on the pieces, saying all of the wrong things. Neal had corrected her and she held it over him since then.

"Are you excited?"

"Of course I am. New school means new friends; new friends' means new names to remember. You know how it goes." Emmy always liked the start of the school year. It marked a new beginning; a new image could shine through the old one. New friends could be made, old ones would be lost. But none of that mattered anymore. As long as she had Nick at her side, she knew that she would be able to survive it all.

A comfortable silence passed between the two. Neal was working on his drawing again and Emmy had her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds of nature around them. The crickets whistling, the birds chirping, and the faint sounds of a plane flying by.

"When I was younger, my classmates would make fun of my initials because they don't make a word like the rest of theirs did." It was true; the kids would go around, asking what sort of cool words they could make with just their initials. Emmy could only make J.E.S., which didn't sound like a word at all.

"It can't be that bad Emmy. It's not like you had P.O.O as your initials." A friendly glare and Neal continued, "Wait… Don't tell me. Your initials are E.E.W. Did they run around in a circle, yelling "EEW?"

Emmy splashed Neal with the cold lake water and said, "Shut up. My name isn't that bad. It's Emilia Jane Salgado. E.J.S doesn't sound cool, like A.C.T. or L.E.T."

"Emilia Jane… It has a nice ring to it."

"What about your middle name? I'm sure it's fancy, like Walter." Neal crinkled his nose at the thought of being named Walter. It had a stuffy feel to it, like the person who was unlucky enough to be called that was obnoxious and tight lipped. Neal would hate to be called that. Sure, it sounded fancy, but sometimes fancy was a bad thing. Sometimes you needed something a little different, like Dwight.

Neal laughed and said, "It's actually Everett. My grandmother had bad luck with her two husbands. My full name is Nick Everett Affaria Langley. It's too long to say so I just shortened it to Nick Everett."

"N.E.A.L… It's a nice name. Better than Emilia Jane." She made a face when she said her name, as if she wanted to be someone else. If you asked her two years ago, she would have said that she would love to be someone else, living a life that wasn't hers. But now that she finally had someone that understood her and someone she could talk to about anything and get a true answer from… now she wouldn't dare change a thing.

"Emilia Jane is a beautiful name. It suits you." Neal said as he made the final touches to his drawing. It looked impeccable as always, but today… it seemed more spectacular. Neal would always remember this day, no matter what happened in his life to make it unbearable.

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(Hours later in the same day…)

When night had fallen, Neal made a point to make sure Emmy got home safe. Ever since he learned about her father, he made sure that she was well taken care of. Neal knew that she would never do it, but he told her that his house was always open to her if she needed a place to stay.

After walking her home, Neal began his journey to his own house. Emmy lived closer to town than he did so it would take him a few minutes to reach his welcome abode. His house was on the outskirts of town, surrounded by woods. Roy had taken him into the woods sometimes, hunting rifles in hand. They would hunt for animals, small ones that wouldn't be noticed.

A few minutes had passed before Neal made it to his house. Except something was wrong. All of the lights in the house were on, and Neal heard things being thrown inside. His pace quickened and when he opened the door, his mouth opened in shock.

The living room was almost empty, as if everything that was worth something was packed away in a trunk. He went into Roy's room, where he saw the man packing different articles of clothing into a small trunk. The wall safe was partially open, as if someone was getting ready to run with its contents.

"What are you doing?" Neal asked, a mix of confuse and anger on his face. If Roy was doing what he thought he was doing, than things would become difficult. Extremely difficult.

Roy had obviously not noticed his presence because when Neal spoke he stopped what he was doing and looked at him, an unsure look in his eyes. Clearly he thought that Neal would be home much later than he was. "I hate to break it to you Nick, but we're leaving here pretty soon."

'Pretty soon? What does that even mean?' Neal asked himself. He refused to believe it. He didn't want to leave, not yet. He had spent nearly every day of this summer at the lake, with a girl that he knows he won't be able to find again, and Roy just expects him to drop everything and leave?

Once he found his voice, Neal asked, "Why?"

Roy sighed and sat down on his bed. He placed his hands on the bed, unsure of how to explain it to Neal. He finally looked up and said, "People are getting suspicious of us Nick. They don't trust us, and I'm beginning to think that maybe it's a good time for us to blow this small town and search for a bigger one. You know, like New York or something."

"I…I don't want to leave Roy. I've finally found someone I can…" 'Someone I can relate to.' Neal left the sentence unfinished, not wanting to tell Roy about Emmy. He would chastise him for spreading roots in a town that they both knew they wouldn't be in for long.

"Who? That girl… what's her name again? Emilia?"

Neal's mouth opened to say something but nothing came. So he closed it. How did Roy know about her? Had he been following them?

"People talk Nick. Pretty much all of town knows that you and her have been disappearing everyday to god knows where, doing god knows what. I won't have that kind of talk surrounding you." Neal scrunched his face in confusion. 'I didn't even know there was talk.' Neal mused. He barely talked to the other kids when he saw them. The only person he really talked to was Emmy, and she wasn't too fond of the other kids either.

"But…" Neal said, pouting a little bit. Neal was just getting used to Salem, the quaint feel of the town made him feel peaceful and calm. Something he needed to start over. He wasn't ready to leave, not now. He had yet to make an impact on the town, something he had wanted to do since the start.

"No buts, Nick. We're leaving in a week." Roy didn't know what had gotten into Neal. He knew that the kid liked the town they were staying in, but he had no idea that he would get so attached to it.

"That's when school starts Roy. You can't really expect me to not go to high school." The kid had a point. Everyone should get a chance to go to high school, even if they weren't all there mentally. Roy could remember his high school days. Granted, they weren't as good as he would have liked, but they were good all the same. The people, the teachers… It was nice.

A sigh escaped Roy's lips before he hung his head and rubbed a hand over his face. It would be difficult getting Neal into the school without his papers from his old school in Boston. Difficult, but not impossible. He looked up and said, "Fine. But we're going to have to forge your papers. Think you're up to it?"

An excited smile was on Neal's face as he nodded. It was a win-win situation. Neal would get to go to high school with Emmy and he would learn how to forge school papers. It should be a fun experience.

Roy stood and said, "Get that smirk off of your face and go get the materials."

Neal's smile only grew as he turned to go in search of the things necessary to forge the papers. He wouldn't know it then, but this would be the best decision he would make in a long time.

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