Peter's trip from New York to Pennsylvania gave a whole new meaning to the word anxious. He'd never really considered the idea of anxiety all that closely. It was just a word that showed up in reports and was mentioned a time or two by the various therapists he'd see over the years. He tried to remember the advice he'd been given to try and combat it, but was coming up short. It wasn't to incessantly tap his fingers on the armrest of the passenger seat, as Diana had so graciously and patiently pointed out to him on several occasions now. It wasn't to obsessively check his phone every 30 seconds either. There didn't appear to be any relief for the horrible mess his guts had become as the mile markers on the highway slowly unveiled their progress. So he tried to focus on other things instead. He'd let Diana drive, something he was regretting now. At least then he would have had the road to focus on, not that he imagined it would be any better than what he was experiencing now. Besides, Diana had to drive. Peter had too many phone calls to make.

His one to Elizabeth had been easy. In that warm, supportive way of hers she had let him know she wasn't mad about the fact that he had just left town without even stopping home first. His call to Hughes' went easy, too. His boss understood and hinted that Jones had already been by to fill him in on what was going on. Now he was just checking his phone every few seconds waiting on the call about their warrant. Federal warrants were tricky business and while he wasn't willing to admit it outloud, Peter was nervous. Especially after his last warrant was denied. Well not denied so much as delayed. He had it now. It was just not the one he needed.

Peter's phone buzzed in his hand and startled him so badly, even Diana jumped.

"Sorry," he muttered before answering.

"We got it." Jones said. Peter glanced at the dashboard clock. It had taken little less than an hour. Damn he had trained his agents well.

"Did you have any trouble?"

"Oh no. Especially not with Lauren and the fact this is now a kidnapping case over state lines. The judge hardly asked any questions."

"Make sure to tell her I said thanks," Peter said. "Diana and I are about 45 minutes out from the county sheriff's office. I'll call you again from there."

"Sounds good," Jones agreed. "Tell Diana I told her to drive safe."

Peter chuckled as he ended the call.

"Good news I take it?" Diana asked from the driver's seat.

"The judge came through. We got our warrant."

Diana hit the steering wheel with her palm. "Excellent! It's about time we got a damn break in this case."

Peter couldn't have agreed more. Nothing had been easy about this case so far. Not from the moment Leech swooped into the office like a vulture with his little cronies all simpering in his wake. He would track every single one of them down, use what they knew about Leech against the man, and then make it his personal mission to see that none of them ever worked for the federal government again.

Alright, maybe that was taking it a bit too far. Peter wasn't quite so heartless as that. Besides, most of them had probably been ordered to help Leech on his witch hunt. He wouldn't get them fired. He would get them all raises if they agreed to share what they knew. Who cared if it looked bad.

"Jones said to drive safe," Peter said, forcing the thoughts away.

"I always drive save," Diana said, sounding offended.

"That's not true and we both know it. But I think it had more to do with the last time he was behind the wheel."

"Oh," Diana said. "I get it. The bridge. Bad accident. Serious concussion. Check."

"All the same, watch your speed."

Diana's gesture to Peter from behind the wheel was far from professional, but she went back to driving and Peter went back to staring out his window and trying not to tap his fingernails against the arm rest. He was still waiting on a call from Don on whether or not Peter and Diana would have Buck's County sheriff back up when they stormed the prison. If not, then there was an FBI field office a few hours out and they had already sent a SWAT team out towards the prison. The sheriff's office was on the smaller side and Peter wasn't sure how many people they were going to have to arrest. Or how much of a fight those people would put up when they tried. The more law enforcement officers Peter had with him to search that prison, the better.

"We're here," Diana announced a little while later. She'd gotten them there a lot faster than Peter had expected. Though it had been enough time for Don to call and tell him everything had been arranged. They were to meet the sheriff himself, a man named Jude Martin.

"Yes my parents were Beatles fans and yes I was named after the song," the younger than expected man said when he introduced himself. He met them outside his office where the parking lot was full of cruisers with their lights flashing. "I called in the calvary as soon as your detective called," he explained as he shook hands with each of them and led them in. There were more officers milling about inside.

"We really appreciate this, Sheriff," Peter said once the three of them were seated and situated in the man's private office.

"We're always happy to give the feds a hand," Martin replied. Peter highly doubted that, but appreciated the man's efforts at civility.

He went on. "We have reason to believe that a man named Neal Caffrey is being held at the correctional facility against his will."

"Doesn't everyone over there think they're being held against their will?" Martin joked, his attempt at humor falling flat, even though Diana still offered him a weak smile to keep things light and friendly.

"Caffrey was wrongfully accused of murder and then illegally transfered between prisons and over state lines. We have a federal warrant and permission to search the prison for him. I understand you guys don't have SWAT, so our local branch is sending a team over. They should be here within the hour." Peter finished, checking his watch.

"Is there anything we should know before heading in?" Martin queried. Peter explained the situation with Smith, but only what was necessary to get the job done. He'd been serious with the whole 'not taking any more chances' thing.

"All the evidence points to Caffrey being held at that facility. We just don't know what condition he's in or if Smith is going to put up a fight. He's a corrections officer with a long list of infractions. I wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating him considering he's been hiding an injured man in the prison for nearly a week."

Two hours later, Peter and Diana were once more in the car. Peter drove this time, white knuckling the steering wheel the entire time as the caravan they were heading made its way towards the prison. There was Peter's car in the lead, all the sheriff's men behind him with lights flashing and sirens roaring, SWAT not far behind, and then an ambulance taking up the rear. With any luck, this whole thing would be over in a matter of hours. Peter tried not to picture it going so easily because raids like this rarely did, but the images of the caravan bursting through the doors and plucking Neal from the jaws of death kept playing out in his head regardless. In reality, Peter knew it would be a struggle just getting through the door. Then they would have to find the warden. If he wasn't around, then they'd have to wait while one of the sheriff's men left to collect him. The warden would want to read the warrant and then argue over the fact that he couldn't possibly be playing host to a kidnapped FBI consultant. Then there would be the search of the actual prison. That would go slow as well because there would be checkpoints to go through and doors to be unlocked. Peter had an impressive number of people with him to help, but he still knew this wasn't going to be the dazzling rescue scene he was hoping for.

Even so, as the bright lights of the prison became visible off in the distance, Peter let himself get excited. This had been the worst week of his life, filled with nightmares that probably wouldn't even hold a candle to the ones Neal was going through, but still. He'd done it. He'd found Neal. He didn't care that there was still a chance he'd been moved already, or wasn't even at this prison in the first place. He'd convinced himself that this was the end and that he would be bringing Neal home, one way or another. In whatever condition he found him in. He owed Neal that much at least, for not stopping Leech, for not finding the truth out before now. For all the things they'd left unsaid and the work they still had left to do. This was that breathless moment right before Neal jumped off the bridge all over again. Only this time, Peter would be there to catch him.