AN: Thanks for reading and for the reviews, follows and alerts. It means a lot! School started back up so this took me awhile to get it posted. So sorry! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint, and you enjoy it.

Rock Bottom Part 2

He was running.

He couldn't feel his heart pounding in his ribcage or hear the soles of his Italian leather shoes hit the pavement, but he knew he was running. The caress of the wind was absent upon his skin as he ran, but the city, as beautiful and captivating as it was, was reduced to nothing more than a blur.

He was running faster than he ever had in his life. When the muscles in one's legs don't mimic the flames of hell, a person can run as fast as their heart so desires. The aspiration in his golden boy heart hidden behind a joker's mask carried him quick. But the dogs were still on his heels.

Dogs. Black, strong and vicious even without the foam at their snarling mouths. They were after him, chasing after one of their own. Their teeth ripped the hem of his pants, bored into his ankle and drawing the blood from his torn skin. He was on the ground without feeling the impact and looking up at the gnashing teeth of the beast on top of him. The white foam descended down from the slimy corners of a hungry mouth and onto his neck, running down like fondling fingers. He cringed, before forcing his eyes open, staring at the black orbs savoring him.

You know Caffrey, the voice belonging to the man that had strung him up from the rafters whispered in his ear, you may have been let off your leash but you're still in a fenced in yard. And sure, you've got an owner that scratches you behind the ears from time to time and let's you inside when it gets too cold out, but you're still a mutt. Nuzzle the owners, but when their backs are turned sink your teeth into something that isn't yours or shit on the carpet. Now, if you don't tell me where that mutt-loving Agent Burke is, well...let's just say I'm going to enjoy the sound of the pathetic little whimper from a kicked puppy.

Then he felt it. The pain churning in his sides, the grinding of ribs loud and excruciating. And that's all he could do. Whimper, soft and shallow like a mutt left out in the rain. He stared up at the dog on top of him and saw his reflection in the ebony of pupils. He was milliseconds away from allowing the craving teeth the pleasure of sinking into his flesh when suddenly the dog backed away.

The sound of another voice, much more forceful and loud than the previous voice, must have scared it off. To be honest, it scared him too.

Peter was on his knees at Neal's side. The younger man was lying on his back, eyes opened in slits, staring at something Peter, nor Diana could see. His calloused hands shook as they hovered over Neal's battered body like a rookie holding his drawn weapon on a suspect for the first time.

"Boss?" Diana questioned him, not his actions. The sound coming from between them was pitiful and almost familiar. It reminded Peter of the time Satchmo stepped on a nail while they were doing some home repairs a few years back. Whimpering, scared and uncertain, begging for someone just to do something.

Peter's hands stopped shaking and found Neal's grimy, matted hair.

"Easy, Buddy. Easy. Just take it easy. We're here, okay? We're going to take care of you. It's almost over." The mantra spilled easily from his tongue, it was like acting out the memory of taking care of Satchmo except his chest felt ten times heavier now than it did then. He felt compelled to say more when the whimpering didn't subside, but Diana was staring at him as if he said anymore he would make their situation all too real.

"I'm going to check on the ambulance, see how far out they are." Her voice was stern, though Peter knew it was her way of still feeling in control. He didn't bring up the fact that two minutes ago Jones had come over the radio and said they were ten minutes out. He just let her go, never taking his attention from Neal.

The ex-con eyes had drifted to the side, unfocused and alarming still staring at the remainder of the rope that had previously bound him and a pool of blood that had once ran through his veins. Peter gently felt around the younger man's neck for the thready pulse beneath discolored skin.

"Hey. Come on, Kid. Eyes on me, alright?"

Blown pupils were turned towards him without any direction, but he felt compelled to smile at the effort.

"There. See? Better already, huh? Tell me I'm wrong."

Neal flinched and whimpered louder.

Neal tried to follow the dog as it retreated, just to make sure it wasn't a trick. He watched its stoic body disappear into the shadows, before he felt another presence at his side. He turned his head to look, but nothing was there except a faint blur. There was a sound in his ears, like the swarming of bees, then like the sound of gunfire Peter's voice was there.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

He flinched. The shadows swarmed and swiveled until he was at June's two years ago, standing in front of Peter with a heart cracking underneath his skin with each mention of Kate or the music box. He shrugged his shoulders with physical ease, but they were heavy otherwise.

"You're wrong."

He hadn't lied. He had just obeyed. Obeyed a command like any needy, desperate dog would do.

A laugh of disbelief was his reward. It felt good, knowing there was still a challenge. Of all the tricks he could do, only an owner was capable of knowing whether or not it was his best. Peter knew it wasn't.

"I don't understand you. I gave you a shot at a better life."

The shadows swirled like black ink in water and he was back, lying in the street whimpering as the remaining dogs circled around him, but this time Peter was kneeling beside him, looking at him expectantly. The dogs nipped at his sides, teeth barring into his arms, waiting for him to give into them, to admit to the mutt he truly was.

He kept his eyes on Peter, allowing his mind to think of the life he was being drug into, a life without Peter.

"It's not the life I want." It wasn't a lie this time and it wasn't a lie then.

Peter wasn't sure how long Neal had been staring up at him, but however long it was, it was long enough that when Neal's whimpers formed an actual sentence, Peter almost went backwards.

"It's not the life I want."

Peter had no idea what Neal was talking about, but suddenly his name was being called out, torn from a throat already raw.

"Peter! No! No, no, no! Peter!"

All the agent could do was stare at the younger man as his back arched painfully from the bloodstained floor until the whimpers returned between whispers of his name.

"Please, Peter."

The shaking of his hands returned as they found the younger man's matted hair again.

"Okay, Neal. Okay. Whatever it is, okay."

His name quit being spoken.

Neal had denied the dogs their meal. He refused to accept their way of life. He told them it wasn't the life he wanted, but they weren't satisfied. At once, they attacked him. Bit in to him, savored him, drug him away. Neal tried to buck and twist out of their jaw-tight hold. He called and screamed for Peter, begging the man to do something, anything to save him. It wasn't working and the dogs almost had him in the shadows. He felt the whimpers escape his throat again and dared to call Peter one last time.

"Please, Peter."

He was halfway in the shadows, when Peter pulled him away from the dogs.

"Okay, Neal. Okay. Whatever it is, okay."

He felt the agent's hand in his hair, not scratching behind his ears like that of a dog, just mussing it like a father comforting a fevered child. The warmth of calloused hands was offered to him without limits making him realize the only way the cold could get to him was if he himself let it. And sure, the weight on his ankle, for ever how shattered and broken it was, was his fenced in yard, but how could one be worried about what was on the other side of forbidden boundaries, when you had the biggest prize of all within your reach?

"Anything, Buddy. I swear. Whatever it is, kid, you can have it, just please stay with me, alright?"

It was an odd thing for Peter to say to him. He had begged to stay with Peter mere moments ago. Why would he ever leave?

He sure didn't want to, but that's the funny thing about rock bottom. When you're there, you never get what you want.

AN: Okay so here is the deal, I had to stop writing and I know coming back to this and attempting for the exact same feel to make this flow would be impossible, so there will be another part to this, with less angst and more comforting, I swear. I hope you guys are still into it and this chapter didn't disappoint. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! :)