(Chapter 10)
(Thursday: 12 am)

The man who had been casing the Burke's residence ended up being another hired hand who had been told to stay outside that address and act suspicious. Like the "Peter" look-alike, Jones was beginning to think something else was going on here. These people they kept catching were just distractions to throw them off the trail for something the agent still had no idea about. He knew that Peter had bought a disposable phone and yet it was the bug under Jones' desk that had probably tipped the "bad guys" off to where Neal was headed. It hurt his head thinking about it as he took another sip of coffee. He looked up and smiled as Elizabeth Burke offered him a refill. He held up his hand.

"Thanks but I'm good. Just mulling over a few things. Times like this I really wish Peter and Neal were around. They're good at seeing the forest for the trees as much as I hate to admit it." Elizabeth sat beside him and nodded.

"I noticed they always seem to be on the same wavelength when it comes to cases. It's almost uncanny." They gave each other a look and grinned. Jones took another sip of his coffee then put the cup on the table.

"If I hadn't known they weren't related, I'd have thought they were brothers. Ever notice how much they seem to like to annoy one another like siblings?" Elizabeth nodded, smiling broadly.

"Yes! It's almost funny how much they enjoy bothering the other yet get along so well." She sighed a bit and leaned back against the sofa.

"I worry about them. They are so similar and trust each other so much and yet... the littlest thing sets them off. I'm glad they're friends. I can't imagine if they were to ever lose that. Neal... well he really seems to genuinely like Peter and want to please him. And Peter... well he always feels so protective of Neal." Jones nodded quietly, stifling a yawn. Elizabeth patted him on the arm and stood up.

"I'll bring you a pillow and blanket just in case." The agent made to protest but she held up a hand and made her way upstairs and disappeared for a few before coming back down with a fluffy pillow and blanket in hand.

"I insist... it's been a long day for everyone." Jones nodded and lay the items beside him on the sofa. He watched Elizabeth peer outside the front door and offer the watch more coffee as he sipped his own. Peter was a lucky guy to have such an understanding wife as Elizabeth. She had been through so much the last few months since Neal had arrived but had taken everything in stride. She treated Neal like family. He could see how much she worried about him aswell as her husband.

(Thursday: 3 am)
(Peter)

Peter woke up feeling a bit better than he had but his jaw and head still rang with minor aches. He had to say, for a non-violent type, Neal had a pretty good upper right-cut. He smiled slightly to himself, pushing himself up to his elbows and finally sitting up. He pulled the covers aside and pushed his feet over to the side and onto the floor. The world spun a bit and he waited till it stopped before he decided to lean forward and grab his shoes. He had barely bent over when he heard a low moan from the other side of the partition. It sounded like Neal.

(Neal)

Neal slept on Mozzie's sofa restlessly after everything that happened. He still had a huge amount of guilt eating at him for what he had thought about doing and had done to his friend. It seemed Peter forgave him but could he forgive himself? He started to remember things. Cases and times Peter had helped him even when he didn't trust the con. Peter always seemed to believe in him regardless and as much as he tried, it was hard for the young man to completely trust anyone. He had learned to love Peter like a brother and he knew now he could and should trust the man. He would be a fool not to.

He was remembering the case in the vault at Avery's. He had given the breathing tube to Peter and once the air had thinned in the vault, Neal had passed out although not before he had shown the agent the "kill" switch. It had seemed like a very long time he lay there unconscious before he came to and Peter was crouched over him looking both worried and relieved. It had been nice to think someone cared about him enough to make sure he made it through. In his line of work, you were always watching your back and never knew whom to trust. Peter had his back. That incident had proven it to him more than anything.

Neal's eyes fluttered beneath closed lids as he continued to dream about things. At some point his thoughts wandered to Kate and he gave a little moan, his face furrowed in a frown. He wasn't aware of the shadow standing over him, eyes still closed as he slept. A hand reached down and pressed something close to his face. Neal thrashed weakly without waking then slumped across the sofa, mouth slack. The figure pushed another rag into the young man's mouth and pulled his arms back, tying them securely with a cord. Once they were done they walked away, the sound of something wet splashing around the area. Neal moved slightly despite whatever they had drugged him with, his nose twitching slightly as if at something pungent. The sound of soft splashing continued.

(What was that?)

Peter stopped reaching for his shoes and stood up slowly, padding to the far end of the partition to check on the young man when he heard something else. It sounded at first like a dripping sound but as he listened more carefully he realized it was the sound of someone quietly splashing something around the outer part of the room. He could suddenly smell something strong in the air and he crinkled his nose up, hand over his face as he realized what it was. Kerosene.

The agent peered around the left side of the partition and saw a masked figure with a canister splashing the liquid all the way around the main area. He noticed Neal laying on the couch, his arms pulled tightly behind him and something stuck in his mouth that looked like a rag. The con wasn't moving much which meant he must have been drugged. Peter cursed silently to himself and went back into the "guest" room to make a plan of attack. He was still a bit off from everything that had happened in the last 24 hours but he figured he was still good in a fight if it came to that. Peter didn't have any weapons and Neal had taken his gun earlier so he would have to depend on other means.

Peter peered around the corner again and watched the masked man cautiously when he saw something that made him cringe. Mozzie was coming around the corner from his own little "bedroom" his hands over his eyes as he rubbed the sleep from them. The little guy wasn't aware of the danger he was walking into.

"Neal, what is that smell? I... Who are you?" Mozzie stood like a frightened deer in headlights, nose twitching and his whole body shaking in fear as he stood face to face with the masked man and a gun. The masked figure cocked the gun back and pointed it dangerously at Mozzie, obviously about to shoot. Peter did the only thing he could and quietly crept around to the right and behind the figure. Mozzie didn't see him at first but even when he did he just started to babble in his normal fashion.

"Uhm, did you know I have a friend standing behind you. He's really big too." The masked man gave a quiet but menacing little chuckle, obviously not believing him as he raised the gun to shoot. Just then, Peter made a motion for the little guy to duck. Mozzie didn't hesitate, although he made more of a fainting motion than a duck but it was enough for the agent to jump the shooter from behind. The gun went off with a loud report that echoed off the walls. The bullet narrowly missed the unconscious Neal, nicking the top of the sofa back, a small cloud of filling flying out. Peter punched at and struggled with the masked man but the man was a bit quicker and managed to cuff him on the side with the gun. The agent slumped to the side and lay there breathing hard, hearing the cocking of the gun again.

"Looks like I don't have to start the fire after all. You did it yourself." His voice was low and condescending as he uncocked the gun and ran out of the storage unit. Peter pushed himself up, coughing as he smelled smoke and saw the spot where the bullet had hit after it nicked the sofa. The friction had caused enough of a spark to get the kerosene started. Flames were already climbing up into the rafters. Mozzie was coughing and sat up looking around with a confused expression.

"Neal!?" Mozzie looked around coughing in the smoke and turned to Peter.

"Peter... where's Neal?" Peter blinked at the little guy surprised he used his real name. He pulled himself up to his knees and covered his face against the smoke. The flames were spreading quickly and heading for the sofa.

"Mozzie, He's on the sofa. Help me get him out of here!" He saw the little guy nod, still coughing and hacking a bit. They managed to each get an each under the con and drag him over to the door. Peter pushed at the door but it refused to budge. He pushed again and heard a jingling of a lock outside. Someone had chained them in! Peter turned and looked at Mozzie who was quickly untying the unconscious Neal, removing the gag.

"Moz, where's the gun Neal told you to throw away? Do you still have it?" The little guy twitched his nose and finally pointed towards his old bedroom.

"I didn't have time to and you never know when you can sell something like that so... yeah it's in the bottom drawer by the bed." Peter nodded and made a motion for him to wait with Neal while he ran back in, hand over his face and bypassed the flames as much as he could. He managed to get to the nightstand and find the gun and clip and ran back to the entrance. Peter almost collapsed to the floor, coughing from the smoke and heat. He took off his shirt, leaving just his tee on and started to rip at it till he made a few small strips and pulled one over his face offering one to Mozzie and putting another around Neal's nose and mouth.

"Stand back!" Peter cried and waited till Mozzie pulled Neal aside a few feet and duck as Peter pulled the trigger, aiming at the door. He heard the bullet go through but the door was still bolted. He tried again and heard a loud crack, the door swinging open and fresh air blew into the space. Peter pushed the gun into his belt and helped Mozzie pull Neal towards the door. They had barely made it to the threshold when a bullet rang out. Peter blocked Mozzie and Neal rolling outside, gun ready. He ducked behind the door but another bullet came out of nowhere and he felt it graze his leg. The wound burned but he turned and shot at the escaping figure as they took off in a black sedan.

Peter limped a few feet in chase before he came back and helped Mozzie pull Neal outside finally and they sat there breathing in the fresh air. He could hear the little guy wheezing and Neal coughing as he woke up from whatever he had been drugged with. Peter took the makeshift mask off his face and tied it around his wounded leg. He heard a whistle from Mozzie who had sidled up to him at some point.

"You ok?" Peter nodded with a slight smile.

"Yeah. Just a graze. How about you?" Mozzie twitched his nose and rubbed at his glasses with his shirt sleeve. He seemed unsure of something but finally he just spit it out.

"I... well... Thanks!" Peter blinked at the little man and saw Mozzie had his hand held out. He took the proffered hand and they shook.

"For a suit, you're not half bad, Peter." The agent blinked but smiled watching the little guy look back at Neal laying on the grass. The young man moved a bit but was still under the influence of whatever the masked guy had given him. Atleast they were all alive.

Peter felt around his pockets and then back at the now fiery storage unit. He couldn't find his disposable phone but felt someone push something into his hand. Mozzie was giving him his phone, nose twitching nervously. Peter nodded in thanks and called Jones.

"Jones, Burke. Any way we can get a ride? We're..." He looked at Mozzie curiously. The little guy blinked then replied.

"10 miles north of NYC." Peter nodded and spoke into the cell.

"Did you hear that? Ok and it's a storage unit off the road. "My Other Home" is the name." Peter was reading the sign and nodding into the phone.

"Oh? Someone casing the place? How's El? Good! Tell her I'll be there soon. Thanks, Clinton." He hung up the phone and gave it back to Mozzie.

"Thanks. Let's see if we can get Neal out to the road and wait for our ride."