Chapter Thirty-three

"Give me the keys."

"Jake's still going to know I'm the one who took them." Neal pointed out as he pulled the key ring out, keeping the one duplicate in his pocket.

"Meaning he's more likely to lash out at you if you have to get close enough to him to give them back." Peter pointed out as he took the key ring.

"I was really hoping that he would just be passed out from alcohol where I left him, he wouldn't have even known they were gone."

"Luck has not been on our side lately." Peter sighed. "Jake is either out looking for us right now or…"

Peter slowly pushed open the door to their room, he was fully expecting to find Jake waiting for them, and he was. Jake would have known that the first place they'd try would be the room with the corpses and if he had truly wanted to hunt them down he would have gone there, but Peter suspected that Jake didn't have the courage to go near that room unless he absolutely had to. Sitting on the wool blanket in the corner cross legged Jake looked up from the bottle of amber liquid in his hand that he had been staring vacantly at. Peter had worried that Jake would be in a rage at having his keys stolen, but he looked up at them with a bright smile like they were old friends getting together for a drink.

"Hello, Boys." Jake greeted warmly with a bit of a drunken slur. "How's Miller doing? I bet he's pretty ripe by now."

"Here." Peter said coldly as he stepped up to Jake and offered him the keys. "Get out."

"Keep 'em." Jake looked up at Peter and winked. "You're going to need them."

"What?"

"Help me up." Jake asked as he took a pull on the liquor bottle and held his free hand up for Peter to take.

When Peter made no move to assist him Jake rolled his eyes before struggling to get to his feet on his own. Once up he leaned back on the wall to steady himself. He closed his eyes for a moment looking like he was going to vomit. Not wanting him to make a mess out of the one luxury that they had been afforded Peter took Jake by the wrist and pulled him a few steps off the blanket.

"Thank you." Jake said as if Peter had somehow shown him a kindness.

"Just how drunk are you?" Peter demanded.

"Not as drunk as Sawyer."

"What?"

Jake looked Peter over for a moment before he switched his attention to Neal. Neal had moved close enough to help fight Jake if need be but from a prior promise to Peter he was keeping out of Jake's arm reach for now. Seeing the inebriated Jake focusing on Neal Peter moved back into Jake's line of sight. With the delayed reaction time that was typical of someone about to succumb to alcohol poisoning Jake jerked slightly as he tried to pull his thoughts together. Staying wary Peter wasn't sure he believed that Jake was as intoxicated as he acting. Jake reached out to put his hand on Peter's shoulder but Peter easily leaned away and Jake missed.

"Burke, can I have a word alone with you?" Jake asked.

"No."

"I really don't think you want him to hear this." Jake pressed as he lifted the bottle in Neal's general direction.

"We don't have any secrets," Peter replied even though he knew that wasn't even close to being true "anything you tell me I'm just going to tell him and vice versa."

"I take it you were just playing along with me during our last little chat?" Jake asked Neal directly.

"Pretty much." Neal shrugged. "You're not going to turn us on each other."

"You say that…" Jake said doubtfully.

"I do, and I mean it." Neal said firmly. "You want to make friends with me then you need to make friends with us."

"I never said I wanted to be friend, Caffrey, I said you interest me. Two very different concepts." Jake corrected defensively. "There's no sense in having friends down here anyway, they are just a weakness."

"I disagree."

"Do you think I could have ever gotten Burke to fight without you?" Jake asked seriously. "Would you be as easy to manipulate if I didn't have him to threaten?"

"Do you think either one of us would have lived this long without one another?" Neal countered.

Neal's question seemed to strike a cord with Jake as he looked to Peter with a look of sorrowful jealousy. Brushing off the moment Jake sneered at the pair before taking another long pull at the large bottle in his hand. Peter still wasn't convinced that Jake was fully intoxicated but his breath was strong enough to suggest that he was getting there.

"Jake," Peter said carefully "even if you're not looking for friendship I suspect you could at least use an ally."

"You're the one who needs an ally." Jake growled senselessly.

"We need each other, that's how an alliance works. Trust me, Jake, I want to help you just as much as I want you to help us."

"You really mean that, don't you?" Jake asked as his mood softened once more.

"Yes."

"Prove it."

"How?"

Jake didn't answer right away. He turned his slightly unfocused gaze on Neal once more and stared at him for a long minute as if he was hoping that Neal would get the hint and give them some privacy. When Neal stayed Jake sighed in defeat before reaching back and pulling the collapsible metal baton out of his back pocket. Peter had been doing his best to look non threatening when it looked like he might be getting somewhere with Jake but the instant saw the weapon he pulled his shoulders back aggressively. Jake snapped the baton out to its full length and with a well practiced hand flipped it in the air to catch it by the end so that he could offer the handle to Peter.

"Take it." Jake encouraged when Peter didn't reach out for it. "This isn't a trick, take it."

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth Peter closed his hand around the textured grip of the surprisingly heavy weapon. As crude a device as it was Peter had to admit that he felt better being armed again, he was so used to his gun being a part of him that its absence was palpable like the gnawing phantom pain that sometimes haunted patients after the loss of a limb. Jake watched Peter carefully, clearly half expecting him to use the weapon he'd just been given. When Peter didn't instantly turn on him Jake relaxed and smiled. Peter's stomach turned when he figured out that Jake hadn't handed him the weapon to test his trust, it was test of his resolve.

"This is about Sawyer." Peter stated rather than asked.

"Glad we're on the same page."

"We're not even reading the same book."

"Then let me catch you up: a few days ago I took a key away from Sawyer, it went to his liquor cabinet. He has some major alcohol problems."

"He's not the only one." Neal added drily.

"Guilty." Jake shrugged. "But I don't go into withdrawal the way Sawyer does, he doesn't have full blown DTs but it's still bad."

"DTs?" Neal asked.

"Delirium tremens." Peter clarified. "A severe acute withdrawal from alcohol causing confusion, tremors, and seizures."

"Not a lot of people realize that alcohol is one of the most dangerous drugs to withdraw from." Jake added taking a small sip at the bottle. "Anyway, Sawyer has spent the last three days locked away in his room away from his buddies shaking and generally feeling lousy. Tonight, just before Neal and I had our little mock heart to heart, I gave Sawyer his key back. By this time he will have drunk enough to pass out. You've got a key to his room, you've got a weapon, this is your one chance to defeat him."

"I'm not murdering Sawyer in his sleep."

"Well you're certainly not going to be able to take him on any other way." Jake said matter-of-factly. "Take a left out this door, second right, third left, down that hall the door and key both have a blue mark on them."

"No."

"Listen, Peter…"

"Don't call me that." Peter growled dangerously.

"Agent Burke," Jake corrected polity "I know what you're thinking, you think this is some kind of psychological torture game I'm playing, that this is just one of those cliches where I bait you into murder to prove that you're no better than I am."

"That's not what I'm thinking at all." Peter said seriously. "I think that Sawyer is a threat to you, and you're too afraid to take him on yourself so you're using me."

"Have no great love of Sawyer, but I'm not afraid of him."

"Then why not kill him yourself?"

"Because I don't own him the way I own *you*." Jake snarled as he punctuated his statement by reaching out and tapping on the bloody stain on Peter's shirt over his heart where his brand was still healing.

Peter narrowed his eyes at the painful strike but otherwise didn't react to Jake's claim of ownership. Neal kept a careful watch over the situation knowing that Jake could turn violent on Peter at any moment, but trusting that Peter knew what he was doing by pushing Jake like this. Glaring spitefully at Peter Jake looked on the edge of another mood swing.

"I could care less if you take advantage of this opportunity I'm handing you." Jake continued trying to sound casual despite his mounting frustration. "I'm just looking out for you and Caffrey, you saw what he did to Miller. I'd hate for you to have to carry Caff…"

"You murdered Miller." Peter interrupted icily.

A look of shock flashed over Jake's features as if Peter had just unexpectedly slapped him. An array of emotions quickly flittered through Jake's eyes from anger to guilt and fear. Neal was surprised when Jake looked to him as if he was expecting him to come to his defense in the matter. When Neal just stared back at him without any empathy Jake took a physical step back away from the pair. Dropping eye contact Jake's eyes tracked back and forth in nystagmus for a moment as he regrouped his thoughts.

Sorting through his insanity Jake eventually looked back up at Peter with a cruel smile that seemed to dropped the temperature of the room twenty degrees. He stepped back up to Peter and leaned in to bring his cheek parallel to Peter's, stopping just short of actually touching him. With Jake's alcohol soaked breath brushing against his skin Peter held his ground mentally and physically, knowing that backing down or even flinching now could be lethal. Jake's primal mentality only respected dominance as he worked to assert himself over his captives searching for weakness.

"Sooner or later you are going to have blood on your hands." Jake purred in Peter's ear. "The only question is who's it going to be? Sawyer's literal blood or Caffrey's figurative? If you don't do something about Sawyer Caffrey is going to pay the price one way or another. How do you think Neal is going to survive down here without you or vice versa for that matter?"

"Jake…"

"Sawyer is a clear and present threat to both of your lives, you have every right to defend yourself and your charge by neutralizing that threat. More than just a right: it's your responsibility…Agent."

Jake pressed the bottle of liquor against Peter's chest and he automatically reached up to take it. Having made his case Jake pushed past Peter and Neal as he stumbled slightly on his way to the door. The door slammed shut behind him and left the pair in a heavy silence. With Jake gone Peter stared down at the weapon in his hand and became lost in thought. Neal wasn't sure what Peter was thinking but from the deep crease that had developed in his brow it certainly couldn't be anything good. Before Neal could think of anything to say Peter suddenly lifted up the bottle and took a deep pull at the amber alcohol that Jake had given him.

"Peter?" Neal asked anxiously.

Coughing on the harsh liquid Peter offered the bottle to Neal without looking at him, knowing he wouldn't like the look of uneasy concerned he was being given. Neal took the bottle more to get it away from Peter than any desire to join him in it. Still not looking at Neal Peter took a deep breath and released it noisly the way he tended to when stressed. Turning around to face the door he had a glitter of determination in his dark eyes that Neal found more alarming than the wild look that often tinted Jake's expression.

"Peter…"

"Stay here." Peter ordered.

"What? No, Peter, no." Neal shook his head and step between Peter and the door. "You can't do this."

"I'm not going to kill Sawyer."

"Then why ar…"

"I'm going to break his legs."