Hi, next one, still intense… as if it would be anything else! Please review, not been getting much and want to make it as good as possible!

Chapter 10

The room was bare, white and stark. Peter sat at the back, out of the way but in easy reach. He had managed to talk Hughes out of this at the hospital, but was thinking it might have been best to do it then, knowing what he does now. He watched as the tech spoke to Neal, telling him what was going to happen, what he had to do. He watched as Neal smiled, trying to hide the paling of his skin.

He told Neal to undress down to his underwear. It made Peter shiver, wondering if he should be here after all. But seeing the anxious look on Neal's face turn to determination and confidence when he looked up at his friend, he knew he couldn't leave.

He noticed Neal took his trousers off first, folding them on the chair. The guy was turned away, fixing the lighting. But Peter noticed – as Neal started unbuttoning his shirt – that his hands were shaking. The more buttons that were unfastened, the more bruises visible. Peter watched as the dark colouring on the abdomen was revealed, breath catching in his throat.

The tech started to direct Neal in how to stand, camera flashing unexpectedly, Neal snapping his eyes shut. It made Peter stand, seeing his friend's chest rise and fall quickly. But Neal didn't say a thing.

oOo

The drive home had been uneventful. It was later than they thought it would be, Neal exhausted. The agents outside just nodded as they passed up the front path, Peter holding Neal's arm. He knew as soon at they entered that his wife was home, it was the beautiful smell of food. Inside was warm, contrasting the cold breeze outside. Diana was still there, helping with the diner.

"Hi hon, we're back. Sorry it was longer than expected," he directed Neal to the sofa, helping him lower onto it. He could see the lines of pain and tiredness around his eyes and mouth.

"No worries boss, Jones called ahead. How'd it go?" Diana was walking from the kitchen as Peter left the sofa and met her half way.

"It was ok, I suppose. He's tired, it took a lot out of him," he stopped as his wife walked around the wall cabinet, in to his sight, "Hi, diner smells amazing."

"I'm glad, its almost ready. Diana, do you want to join us?"

"No, but thank you for the offer, I should be getting back to the office. Call if you need anything." She walked towards the table, El following, helping her get her stuff, and walked out the door, stopping to say something to Neal.

"Right gentlemen, take your seats." She turned to the oven.

Peter turned to Neal, who was starting to recover from his long day, already standing and walking towards him. Both took their seats, Neal at the head of the table, leaving the chair across from Peter free for El. The food looked delicious, the three silent to eat. Peter's eyes kept wondering over to the end drawer. It was never used, by him if ever. He knew he would have to address the pictures, read the letter. Glancing at Neal, he knew he was going to have to talk to him.

oOo

El was watching TV, engrossed in what ever was on. Neal was upstairs, Peter was out on the back deck, envelope in hand. The letter was just four words; "Wish You Were Here" - making Peter crumble it up in his fist. His friend had needed him. He closed his eyes, putting his head back, breath out visible in the cold dark.

"Boo!"

Peter jumped in his chair, gasping as the air was scared out of him. His head going around to see Neal standing with his top half around the door frame. He was smiling, walking to the opposite side of the table, sitting down. He was smirking as Peter tried to calm him self.

"Seriously? After everything... Boo?!"

"Sorry, sorry. My bad. You just looked like you needed a little scare."

"Yeah, I've had that alright." He looked down at the crumpled letter and envelope with the pictures. He had acted without meaning to, looking back to see Neal staring at what he had in his lap as well.

"That them?" It was said quiet, without much feeling. Peter just closed his eyes, "Yeah. Yeah it is." Only silence followed.

"Can... can I see them?" Peter didn't know what the response would be, but this was in a different league.

"What? No... HELL no! No-one else is ever gonna see these, ever, I promise."

"Peter..."

"No." They just looked at each other.

"You said we were going to talk. So...?"

"Yeah, right... well... I think we need to," Peter glanced inside, seeing El asleep on the sofa, "these need to be talked about. What ever you tell me... I will not tell anyone else, no one. Ok? But you HAVE to tell me everything, truthfully. No matter how hard it is, how much you want to keep it secret, you can't. Not with me, that's the deal. I need to know everything."

"Ok, I get it. Ask what you want to know." He was passive, clearly not wanting to talk but knowing he had too.

"Ok," he put the envelope on the table along with the letter still in a ball, "tell me about these." The statement hung in the air, Neal swallowing hard, Peter feeling guilty.

"Once they dragged me to the other room, they beat me until I was close to unconsciousness. I couldn't fight, or even try. They tied me... tied me to the roof," his eyes began to glaze over, he shook his head slightly. He had skipped over most of this in the statement, just given the bare minimum.

"Did he say anything to you?" Peter was going back into Agent mode, but his voice was quiet, as if he didn't want to know.

"Yeah. He... eh... he said 'lets give them something to listen to' knowing yous could hear us. Hear me. He was using it against me, against you. I tried to... I mean I didn't want you to hear..."

"It's ok, I know. That bastard... then again I'm not surprise after reading..." He stopped at Neal looking up to him. He didn't mean to say it.