Just a disclaimer- this chapter is very dark.
_

About an hour had gone past, and Neal was pretty much used up. Time to dispose of him and move on to Burke.

With a sigh, Lucas sauntered over to Peter.
"You smug son of a bitch... you really don't know who I am, do you?"

Peter looked into those mad, wild eyes.

"It's okay, because you will. You'll see him, and you'll be begging to forget."

He pulled out a knife, casually running it along Peter's cheek. Peter turned his face away but tried to keep his face blank. He felt the knife lick his face, but he betrayed nothing.

Lucas could feel Burke's tension. "Don't worry, this isn't for you."
He crossed the room to Neal and held the knife.
Peter couldn't breathe.

Lucas sliced through Neal's ropes, sending the man to the ground with a sickening thud.
What is he doing?

The next thing Peter knew, Lucas was on top of a still unconscious Neal, wrapping his fingers around the artist's neck.

Neal stirred, and his bloodshot eyes opened as his body registered the lack of oxygen.

Neal's fingers fumbled clumsily, searching, reaching in vain for anything to make Lucas let up on the pressure. He was vaguely aware of skimming Lucas's shoulders. Black tinges flicked through his vision, and Neal felt his strength and reserve leave him. His head was pounding with an ache unlike any he'd ever felt, and his entire body was on fire, flames licking each nerve, his agony seemingly endless.

Peter, still cuffed to the pipe, was powerless to save his partner, but dammit, that didn't stop him from trying. "Lucas! Stop! You're killing him!"

Peter could feel warmth gliding down his burning wrists as he lunged forward towards Neal. The irregular clinging of the metal handcuffs against the sturdy pipe reminded him of how useless he was. Peter gasped in horror, watching Neal's wide blue eyes blink slowly.

"NEAL!" Peter couldn't stop the choked cry in his friend's name as he yelled out. "Neal!"

Neal's arms were shaking, and Peter knew that the sight before him would haunt him until his deathbed. Neal's head lulled to the side so that he was looking directly at Peter, his eyes wide and haunted, his hollow gaze burning Peter's core. Black seeped through Neal's vision. Need…to…be….stronger than…this... Neal's consciousness was melting away, slipping.Neal's hands slipped from Lucas's and limply dropped to the ground, the fight leaving his body…

Neal's eyes remained open. Peter forced himself to look away from the brilliant man's empty gaze and at Caffrey's chest.
Dear God, no! Please no!

Neal's chest wasn't rising and falling as it should have been. Neal wasn't breathing, and as Peter stole a glance into Neal's eyes, he felt his blood run cold. Neal's gaze was fixed blankly ahead, his eyes glassed over. "NO!" he wailed, losing all control. Peter felt his knees buckle beneath him, causing excruciating pain in his grated wrists.

Lucas, that smug son of a bitch, just smiled wickedly. He held on to Neal's neck for another half minute, though it was clearly unnecessary. He sighed with feigned concern, mocking Peter… not that Peter was even looking. Peter's eyes never wavered from the unmoving stare of his partner. "Neal…" he gurgled, his despair overcoming him. The brilliant conman, his best friend… damn near a little brother to him if he ever had one…

Fury overtook Agent Burke as a string of profanities escaped his lips. He needed to get to Neal, to perform CPR if the kid had any chance… what little chance he did have was slipping away. Neal's lips were tinged blue, and his chest was unmoving… his eyes still wide open. He's d- Peter wouldn't even let himself continue the thought. He just kept pulling on the cuffs. Peter was grateful for the lubricant that his warm blood provided as he painfully pulled his mangled hands from the cuffs.

Lucas was still looming over Neal, clearly admiring his handiwork, when Peter lunged at him. The element of surprise had Peter slamming into Lucas, quickly knocking the man unconscious. Peter scrambled over to Neal and felt for a pulse…

He didn't find one.

Dammit, no! No!

He wplugged Neal's nose and as his lips touched Neal's, gave him quick breaths, followed by chest compressions. Again, his lips covered his ashen partner's, breathing air into his lungs, willing life into his feeble body.

Peter continued this twisted pattern for what felt like an eternity but in reality was about two minutes. Peter could feel hot tears running down his face, but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. Neal needed him. Peter ignored the agony in his battered and skinned hands as he pressed down on Neal's lifeless body, willing him back to life. A muffled cry escaped Peter's lips as he struggled to catch his breath.
"Please…"

He looked down at Neal, those piercing eyes looking into his.
Piercing eyes that a moment ago had seemed so lifeless…

"Neal! Caffrey." Peter's heart was breaking, but there was a new hope that maybe Neal was alive, that the brilliant man had one last trick up his sleeve. Peter was almost afraid to let himself believe it, but the alternative scared him even more.

Peter resumed CPR and stopped as he heard his friend take in a jagged breath, followed by a coughing fit. Peter's relief was indescribable. The sound of the ex-con's jagged breathing was the most beautifully haunting sound his ears had ever heard.

Neal made a motion to sit up, a stifled cry escaping his lips as he winced, his back arching and a gurgled grunt dripping from his tongue.

Peter eased Neal into a sitting position, pulling his upper body onto Peter's lap. Peter could feel Neal's body tense and silently apologized.

Neal tried to speak but still lacked the strength, greedily filling his lungs with air, precious air.
"P-P'ter," he gasped, his tone unusually breathy and hoarse. He blinked rapidly as if fighting his way back to the surface from a world that only he could see. Peter could tell he was fading and trying to stay above the surface.

Peter looked at the young man intently, his eyes refusing to leave Neal's. He needed to look into those eyes, to see the life in them, to remind himself that Neal was indeed alive. The image of those lifeless eyes haunted him already.

"P-P'ter…" Neal's head dipped forward. Peter absently ran his hands through Neal's curly locks. He needed a tangible hold on Neal. "I'm right here, buddy. Look at me. You're safe now, you're safe."

He had hoped for Neal to realize that they were indeed safe, but instead, Neal looked more terrified than ever.

Neal tried to speak again, the pain the action caused him all over his usually masked face.
"Don't speak. Save your strength, catch your breath. But please, can you open your eyes, can you look at me? Neal. Caffrey." He held tighter to the lithe man's trembling body. "You're safe now, I've got you…" he whispered, his voice rough.

Neal needed to make Peter understand, but he couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs to form a coherent thought, to form a sentence, much less speak. He wilted, trying so hard to make Peter understand.

With all his power, he spoke his friend's name. But Peter wasn't understanding and just kept looking at him as if Neal was going to disappear. He tried again, silently urging Peter to understand.

"P-P'ter," he groaned. He felt Peter's hands caressing his hair in a comforting gesture, but Neal just shook his head. Please understand.

"I'm right here, buddy. Look at me. You're safe now, you're safe." Peter said to him. Peter spoke a few more words, but Neal was slipping against the pain, sinking further and further. He was able to catch a few words. "….catch your breath… please…. look at me…. Caffrey."

It was the desperation in Peter's voice that snapped Neal to attention. He felt Peter's hand through his damp hair. "You're safe now, I've got you.."

No! No! Neal felt himself fading. "Partner," he slurred.

Peter smiled a heartbreaking smile. "Yes, buddy. You're my partner. And I've got you."
No! Neal needed to make Peter understand.
"No… p-partner…." he stirred.
Peter was confused. He looked at the young man. He could see Neal struggling to stay with him. Peter couldn't imagine the pain Neal was in, but he needed him to stay conscious.

"Not just… Lucas…" So dizzy… need to….warn Peter. "Partner…. Lucas has…"

And then it clicked.

Peter finished the sentence for Neal.
"A partner." Peter felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Just when I thought this was over.

Neal slumped against Peter's chest, giving a slight nod, the darkness toying with his vision again.

Peter recalled the last thing Lucas had said to him before nearly ending Neal's life.
"It's okay, because you will. You'll see him, and you'll be begging to forget."
Him. Lucas's partner… the reason this was all happening.

"Help me up…" Neal murmured.

Peter didn't want to move him—Neal's body was broken. But Peter knew they needed to get moving… and so the two men scrambled to their feet, Neal wilted against Peter. "I've got you.." Peter whispered tensely. And he meant it. Peter was not letting go.