Trust 3
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Neal felt lightheaded as he bent over and felt around for a "release" mechanism on the lead boots. He looked up briefly and saw Peter was doing the same thing when he felt a vibration in his boots. Neal looked down and saw the chain retracting till both boots were close together. He blinked but looked up again as he heard a "click" and saw Peter float up as he was released from his boots. The agent turned, confused but reached out towards the young man, hand outstretched. Neal reached up and they brushed fingertips before he felt his chest burn from lack of oxygen and one last bubble escaped his lips. His vision began to fade to black as he watched the bubble of air and his friend float away above him.

(Green room)

Peter woke up with a ringing in his ears as blood rushed in loud beats through his temples and especially around the spot the masked man had hit him with the gun handle. He felt nauseous, pushing himself up weakly to his knees and moving the full 4 feet of the chain around his ankle before he threw up. It wasn't much, since he'd barely had breakfast and coffee before he left home, but it was enough to quickly smell up the room as he moved as far as he could in the other direction and leaned back against the wall. He panted, chest hurting, stomach queasy, head throbbing.

Neal's face kept haunting his memory. He wondered how the young man was doing after his ordeal. Neal had saved him. The con had given up a good portion of his air to save Peter. They had both searched desperately for a way to release the boots when Peter had felt his suddenly pop open. He rose up out of the boots turning to look at his friend. Neal was still trapped in his, face pale, eyes wide with fear. Peter reached out to the young man but only managed to brush fingertips with him as he rose towards the surface. He could feel his chest burning from lack of air, body cold and numb from the frigid water of the pool. He couldn't do much more than let himself float to the surface where he gasped desperately for air. He hoped Neal's boots had freed him but when he looked around, the young man was no where be seen.

He turned at the sound of someone clapping from the pool's edge. The man in the mask stood there, gun pointed in his direction. The man smiled broadly.

"Congratulations! You lived, Agent Burke. I guess that proves your pet con truly cares for you." Peter spat in the man's direction but didn't say anything, trying to fill his lungs with air as he dove back into the cold water and made his way downward. He could just make out the slumped figure of Neal, eyes partially open, arms outstretched as he stood there still and stark. Peter nudged the young man, squeezing the young man's nose and pushing his lips to Neal's. He pushed in as much air as he could but Neal didn't move. After a moment he started to fiddle with the boots in an attempt to free the young man but the mechanism was obviously controlled by other means. He noticed the chain in the middle had tightened up so that the boots were now closer together. Peter yanked at the constraints but there was nothing to push or pull that would release his friend. Finally he had to give up and go back up for more air. He squeezed Neal's hand gently before letting go and swimming back to the surface.

Peter's expression grew dark as he thought about everything that had happened. The more he thought about it, this masked man was merely hired muscle. If Mr. Anillo was truly involved, this was more of the same intrigue that included both Fowler's involvement and Kate's death. Peter cursed quietly to himself, smacking a fist against the floor and wincing as he bruised his knuckles.

"Shame Shame... such language for a Fed. I hope you don't kiss your wife with that mouth." Peter perked up, his eyes blazing with fury as he stood shakily and looked around the ceiling.

"Damn you, coward!! Show your face!!" Peter limped around the cold floor as far as his tether let him, clothes still damp and stuck to him as was his hair. He shivered slightly but continued his short pacing as he screamed curses up at the ceiling above. He heard the man laughing.

"Such anger. I like it. I wonder if you would ever show such fury towards your associate?" Peter blinked at the ceiling, the fury still showing in his face.

"Why don't you come in here and let me show you a sample of it or do you only like to bully people from afar?" The agent's voice was antagonistic, a fierce grin on his face. The voice was silent so he called out again as his bravado overcame him.

"No witty replies? Cat got YOUR tongue?" Peter looked across the room as the door opened up again. The second masked man stood there, gun in hand. There was no warning; No words; just the flash of the pistol, a soft pop, and a horrible burning pain in his shoulder as Peter was thrown back against the wall and slid down to the floor. He collapsed to his side, breath coming in shallow gulps as he fought to stay conscious. The figure walked over and he heard the tearing of tape as his arms were pulled behind him and secured tightly. He gasped in agony as his shoulder was pulled, the wound bleeding heavily. He heard a quiet click as his manacle popped open and he was pulled free.

"I don't like to get my hands dirty if I can help it but in this case, I am enjoying myself." The voice resonated around the room and even more in Peter's current near conscious state. The gunman pulled sharply on his bad shoulder as he dragged him out of the room and into a long gray hallway of the same material. Peter was vaguely aware of several bare bulbs hanging over head at intervals as he was dragged along the nondescript hallways. Finally he closed his eyes as the scenery started to spin, the motion of the man pulling him along with the pain in his shoulder drawing him further into darkness. He was nearly out when someone shook him hard and slapped his face, dropping him into what felt like a dentist's chair.

Peter looked up at a bright light shining in his face and squinted, turning his head away. Someone turned his head back and held it there in the beam of the hot light. The agent closed his eyes but felt someone yank them physically open.

"You need to learn to look at uncomfortable things. You'll be seeing a lot of them in the next part of our game." Peter wanted to curse or something but he was just too exhausted. His wound burned with pain, a steady stream of blood oozing from it. He heard the tearing of tape again and saw the second man pull duct tape over his lips. Peter mumbled weakly, groaning as the man poked a finger in the bullet hole. He thrashed as pain wracked his body but someone punched him in the chin and he slumped back against the chair. His arms were cut free and he was strapped into the chair. He felt himself spun around and opened his eyes after he was slapped again.

Peter was looking through a two-way mirror at another room. He saw a figure curled up in the middle, manacled by one ankle. Peter pulled against his bonds as he realized who was in the room. He felt hands pull him back and something strapped around his neck, holding him firmly in place. He could still see Neal's form beyond the mirror. The young man didn't seem to be moving at first but suddenly he could see Neal sit up with some effort and lean back against the wall. The other masked man walked into the room with a couple of buckets. Neal stared at the man ducking defensively, hands over his head, as the masked figure made a motion towards him. Peter watched as both buckets of water were tossed at his friend till he was soaked. The man beside him chuckled.

"I think you'll like this part of the show I know I will." Peter glared up at him as much as he could only turning back when the man made him.

He watched as Neal lay soaked on the cement floor and the second masked man moved back towards the doorway. He stayed out of frame but his role was far from over. He must have pushed a button somewhere because Neal shot up and started to thrash in pain, small blue sparks of electricity dancing around him. Peter gaped in horror, trying to turn away but his head was held in place. He closed his eyes trying to get the memory out of his head when he heard the man say.

"Wait for my word..." He heard a whisper next to his ear.

"Open your eyes and watch, Agent Burke. If you don't, my man will shoot your friend in the head. Understood?" Peter nodded slowly and opened his eyes.

(Elimination Round)

Neal remembered seeing Peter floating away from him. Don't... Someone had been talking to him.

"Come on, Neal... come on! Breathe... dammit! Breathe!"

He had reached out to the voice and grasped someone's arm. For a moment he thought he saw Peter floating over him again. He had a halo of dancing shadows around him and faint light then everything faded to black.

He woke up coughing after floating in the cold frigid darkness. He ached from cold in every atom of his being. He curled up onto his side and shivered, feeling his hair and clothes clinging damply to him. After a moment he opened his eyes and looked around the room from where he lay. He heard the rattle of the manacle on his ankle and made to look when he heard the metal door opening. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and leaned back against the wall. Neal tried to be strong, staring directly at the door as he saw one of the masked men enter and stop about halfway carrying two buckets that sloshed with a clear liquid.

Neal was about to say something when the man made a motion of throwing the buckets at him. He ducked instinctively, unsure of what to expect. He felt something cold splash on him. It smelled like water. He felt a second splash and stayed ducked on the ground by the wall till he heard footsteps moving away from him. Neal looked up, water dripping down his face into his eyes. He brushed hair from his face and shivered more as he continued to stay where he was uncertain what was coming next. He noticed the figure push the buckets outside the door and then pull out a small remote and pushed a button. Neal shivered in the puddle of water forming around him and tried to think what the man was about to do.

It was like someone had stuck him in a bag and started to hit him with a 2x4 from every side. Neal thrashed as electricity flowed through his body from the manacle. He was vaguely aware of arcs of electricity dancing around him and from his fingers as he curled up and shuddered spasmically. It was too sudden for him to react, no sound coming from his lips as his voice died in his throat. He could hear his heart beating faster and faster till finally the drummer came to a pause and he slumped to the wet floor. His body continued to shudder slightly, arms curled up in a strange manner at his sides, back arched. His eyes were closed but his face remained taut as if frozen that way. He thought he could hear someone talking to him, then silence.

At some point, he opened his eyes and found himself standing on the tarmac at an airport. He saw a leer jet parked in the distance. This scene looked familiar and a strange cold shiver came over him. He wanted to run but someone touched his shoulder and he turned to see Kate.

"Neal, come with me." She took his hand in hers and started to lead him away. He looked at her curiously turning only a moment to see something strange. A young man walked happily past him with an overnight bag. The man was him. He saw the young man stop and turn, looking at another person: Peter Burke. They were talking, the other Neal edging slowly towards the leer jet behind him. Neal watched fascinated but a hand grasped his chin gently and turned his head away.

"The past no longer concerns us. Follow me." He tried to resist but in the end followed her from the memory and into another scene.

Neal gasped as he looked around at the new place. They were back in their loft. It was sparsely furnished but it had been home. He walked around and looked at everything as if for the first time. Something akin to freedom washed over him and he looked at Kate with a wide grin.

"How? It's like we... never left." His smile turned to a frown and he stood there looking at the memory with a wistful sadness. Kate hugged him from behind and took his hand again, whispering:

"This is just a memory. Enjoy it... but if you wish, I can take you to an even nicer place." He turned and looked at her over his shoulder, nodding with a slight smile as she lead him down the hallway.

He saw a familiar door and Kate smiled as she opened it and drew him inside. Neal gawked as they stepped into his apartment at June's. Everything looked fresh and new. He noticed the delicate design of the french doors and the statuary on the terrace. Other little nuances he may have overlooked or taken for granted suddenly shone like new. Kate let go of his hand and walked around the place looking happier than he had ever seen her. They didn't speak but just held hands again as he followed her out onto the terrace.

"Peter is right, this is a magnificent view! I think I would have liked June." She turned and hugged him tightly, her head laying on his shoulder. Neal pulled his arms around her and held her just as close, never wanting to let her go, eyes closed as he relished the moment.

"Remember, the past no longer concerns us. As long as you're here, I'll always be by your side, Neal." He felt warm tears falling down his cheeks and then he opened them and she was gone. Neal was still on the terrace, or atleast the memory of it, a cool wind whipping at his hair. He spun around looking for her. Calling her name. KATE! He saw the door to his room closing and ran to open it.

Neal felt like he was being pulled through a tunnel or falling down a well. At some point he hit bottom, sensation coming to him gradually. First he heard a slow beat that picked up speed as he listened. Next a wave of pain as if every inch of his body had been pummeled made him thrash weakly. Last, nausea swept over him and he tried to sit up. Someone held him down, their voice no more than a murmur. He fought again to get up, pushing against the figure and crawling weakly away to throw up. Neal wasn't fully awake but felt someone rubbing his back and helping him remain upright. When he could vomit no more he collapsed but someone caught him and pulled him back. Neal felt his head placed on something soft and he fell into a restless sleep.