Author's note: Hi everyone, this is my first written fanfiction even though I've been reading and enjoying others' work for a long time now. I'm trying to be braver and write some of my own. I hope I'm doing it right. I have so many ideas but it depends if would let me know if you find this interesting. Thanks in advance for reading this.

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine and I'm just borrowing them.

When Peter got to his office, he didn't notice anything unusual at first. He just glanced over the pile of paperwork on his desk and cursed beneath his lips. As much as he loved his job of solving the puzzles and bringing criminals to justice, he hated the reports he had to fill out afterward. He sighed and sat at his desk, going through the pile. Suddenly, he came across a little envelope that he recognized well. This would make the seventh mail that Neal has sent to him. But who was counting? The last six were sent to him on his or Ell's birthday over the previous three years. They were always short with a witty remark at first and then sincere wishes at last. He never replied to them as much as he felt he should. An FBI agent being a pen pal with the person he sent to prison didn't sound right. He knew Neal was not a sinister guy, but he couldn't be 100 percent sure of his intentions with these cards. Was he still playing the mouse and cat game? Or was he just bored? Suddenly, he had a sick feeling. It wasn't any of their birthdays. What was this about? Was something wrong? He got out the card and started reading.

"Hey Peter,

How is everything? How's El? I guess you are surprised you got this card now. I didn't want to bother you. But I didn't have a choice. I was hoping you could come and visit me. Just one visit. Please. I know this is a big request. But believe me, you are my only hope, and I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't urgent. I hope you come, but I completely understand if you don't.

Take care,

Neal"

Peter read the card a few more times. It sounded desperate. What happened to Neal? Why a meeting and why now? Neal has never asked for meetings in the past three years. Should he go? If it was urgent, why didn't he call instead of writing? And then it hit him. If his answer was NO, It would've been easier for both of them not to say it on the phone. Neal gave him an out. Should he take it and just ignore the letter? That may be the right choice, but he knew deep down that he had to go. He needed to go, and to be honest, he always wanted to visit Neal. He cared about him. How could you not, after chasing someone for three years and learn everything about them? From the very beginning, he found out Neal was essentially a good person. Yes, he had no impulse control and no consideration for the consequences of his actions. But he wasn't cruel or dangerous either. He was just a young man that lost his way, and now he was in a supermax facility. That couldn't be justice. Could it be? He wanted to check upon him. But he never felt he would be welcome when he was the person who sent there. This could be his chance, though. To see what he wants and get a good look at him in the meanwhile.

Peter looked at his watch while waiting for the guard to bring Neal to him. There was a big metal table in the middle of the room with two chairs. He was getting more nervous by the minute. Now he was not so sure about doing this. Why was he here? Caffrey sent a card, and he came running? Maybe he should just leave before they bring him. He doesn't own him anything. Why can't he just get himself to leave? What is it so different about Neal that brings out his protective side?

He was deep in his thoughts when the door swung open. A guard was bringing Neal inside. Peter couldn't help but stand by seeing the man in front of him. Oh my god, what happened to him? He thought with himself. He didn't look like the charming guy he knew a few years back at all. How could he lose this much weight? Was he sick? His eyes were sunken, and he had an old bruise on his cheekbone. Were those old bruises around his neck? Peter felt sick to his stomach. He tried to make himself sit while the guard removed Neal's handcuffs and gestured to him to sit. He noticed how stiff Neal moved and pressed his lips while sitting as though the action was too painful for him.

Peter couldn't get his eyes off him. He tried to keep his face emotionless; he doubted he was successful. When Neal finally settled down, he looked at him and said: "Hey Peter, I knew you would come." Neal wanted to say that as casually as possible, but he knew Peter could sense his desperation. He was happy to see Peter. He lost his hope after Peter didn't show up last week to visit home. He knew he had asked for a lot, but what else could he do? And now, Peter was sitting in front of him. Wearing the same jacket, he was wearing three years ago when he arrested him. Peter had come. Neal had asked for his help, and he had come. Neal felt a little warmth at that thought, and for a second there, he thought he is not truly alone in this world.