Trust 4
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Peter opened his eyes reluctantly and tried not to absorb what he was forced to watch. The two-way mirror showed him a view of Neal Caffrey thrashing as he was shocked by the manacle around his ankle. Peter cringed remembering the feeling of fire that had coursed through him when he had been subject to the same torture. He blanked his mind as much as he could trying to separate himself from the scene but he couldn't, his heart breaking as he watched his friend electrocuted before his eyes.

After what seemed the longest moment of his life, Peter watched the young man collapsed to the ground, twitching ever so slightly. Neal lay partially on his side, arms curled oddly at his sides, back arched in pain, his face taut and frozen. It was those eyes that haunted him though. Neal's eyes stared at the mirror as if he could see Peter, begging to be freed and then rolled back and closing forever.

The agent felt the hands of the masked man finally let go of his head and he turned his face and sobbed, his voice muffled by the tape around his mouth. He stared blankly ahead of him, tears pouring from his eyes as he cried for his friend. He felt a hand pat his head and pulled away. Suddenly he felt his hair pulled back till his neck was bared, the crackle of a taser in his side view. He didn't care anymore, his eyes turning back towards the window. He felt the tape yanked off his mouth.

"Looks like you won the game, Agent Burke." The man looked at the window and the other figure gave a thumbs up signal. Peter tried to hold his emotions in but he couldn't. He spat at the man and flung curses at him. He heard the man laugh at him, still holding the taser dangerously near his bared neck.

"Kill me already, dammit! That was your plan wasn't it? Separate us and then kill us?" He closed his eyes and waited but nothing happened. The man let go of his hair and pulled the taser away, his laughter filling Peter with more anger.

"It's not that easy, Agent Burke. My orders were to play the game till one of you died. Looks like it's over now. You won." He started to walk away from Peter, the agent trying to turn his head to see where the man was going.

"If you let me live, I'll hunt you down! You'll never have a day's peace and your boss, you can tell him he better watch his back!" Peter was aching, weak from blood loss but adrenalin, anger and other emotions fueled him as he pulled at his bonds and struggled to free himself from the chair, all the while shouting curses at his captors and Neal's murders.

They left him alone in the room, the light through the two-way mirror allowing him full access to the other figure dragging Neal's body away out of sight. Peter screamed at the mirror for the figure to let the young man go but they couldn't hear him and all he could remember was when those deep blue eyes had stared in his direction as if they could see through the glass.

Peter wasn't sure how long he sat there strapped to that chair before his reserves ran dry and blood loss started to draw him further into delirium. He no longer felt the pain, his mind and body numb to all outside stimulus as he withdrew into himself and started to hallucinate.

"Peter... Peter wake up already!" He turned his head and found himself sitting at his desk at work. Peter looked around the office hearing the soft hum of his PC in the corner and the sound of other agents shuffling around the outside of his office. Someone waved a hand infront of his face and he looked up to see Neal standing there.

"Neal? Wha... I guess I feel asleep at the desk. Did you need something?" He saw the con look at him with a duh kind of expression.

"Uhm, it's lunchtime. We're supposed to meet with Elizabeth and June. Did you forget?" Neal was pointing at his watch and then down at something on Peter's desk. The agent nodded distractedly, reading the text on his planner Neal had pointed at. In red he saw today's date circled and it read: "Lunch with Neal, El & June - CP" He slapped his forehead and flushed pink.

"Been one of those weeks. Give me 5 minutes and I'll meet you in the lobby." Neal shook his head, taking a seat at the front of the desk and getting comfy.

"I can wait. We still have about 20 minutes before we have to meet them. You just looked a bit distracted today so I thought I'd come remind you." Peter nodded with a grin.

"Thanks. El would have shot me if..." He paused rubbing at his shoulder suddenly as it began to hurt him. Neal looked at him curiously.

"Peter, you ok? You look a little pale." The agent nodded but felt a twinge of something in his shoulder and slumped back in his chair. He saw Neal get up and move around the desk, a worried look on his face.

"Peter? Peter... Hey someone call an ambulance!" He saw Neal pull out his cell phone as Jones came running up the stairs towards them and then everything went black.

(An Angel)

Neal woke up feeling warm and comfortable. After everything that happened, he figured he must be dead but at least it was enjoyable. He didn't open his eyes, knowing that once he did he'd be back in that gray dingy cement cell with the manacle around his ankle. The memory of what happened caused him to shudder, breath coming in rapid gasps. Neal felt his chest grow tight as he found it harder and harder to breathe. He was hyperventilating. His arms were at his sides grasping at what felt like soft cotton sheets. If this was a dream at least it had started out nice up till the moment he felt panic take over.

"Neal, Breathe..." He could hear the memory of Peter's voice in his head but he continued to choke.

"Come on, Neal... come on! Breathe... dammit! Breathe!" Neal wanted to comply, but his throat was tightening up along with his chest. He was remembering that last bubble of air that had passed his lips in the pool when someone held something tightly over his nose and mouth. He tried to raise his hands to push at them but then heard a soft yet somewhat familiar voice reply.

"Breathe into this and you'll feel better. Please." It was a woman's voice, youthful but sad. He stopped fighting her, feeling the object open and close with a crinkling sound as he breathed in and out. After a while he started to feel the tightness in his throat and chest stop.

The woman spoke to him in quiet tones, one hand brushing at his hair gently as she continued to hold the object to his face. When his breathing relaxed and he started to feel lightheaded, he reached up and pushed at her hand weakly. He felt the item removed from his nose and mouth as he took some normal breaths. She patted him on the head and he heard a smile in her voice.

"You're going to be ok. Rest." He felt her move away from him and grasped blindly towards her. She gave a little gasp as he pulled on her sleeve.

"Don't..." He wanted to open his eyes but he was still too exhausted to do much of anything. He felt her move back and sit beside him, her hand brushing at his hair gently. It was a nice feeling, her fingers gently caressing his face.

"I can't stay long." He started to feel his body relax as his breathing normalized and his eyes opened part way. A young woman with long dark hair, brown maybe, looked down at him. She seemed familiar to him but his vision was still too blurry to see much more than indistinct shapes.

"Rest. I'll bring you something to drink and eat later." Neal felt himself nod as he let go of her sleeve and fell into a restless slumber.

(Nightmare?)

Peter woke up to find himself back in the gray room, manacle around his right ankle. He shivered weakly, shoulder burning in agony. He felt as if he had been encased in ice, his teeth chattering, face drenched in a cold sweat. The agent lay there curled up in a tight ball and tried to keep warm without success. He closed his eyes tight and wondered if he could wish himself out this place. Someone touched his shoulder and he shuddered in reaction, opening his eyes.

"Peter, you have to get out of here!" Neal crouched near him and touched him on the arm this time. Peter stared at the young man, reaching out towards him.

"You're... alive? But... I saw..." The young man shook his head.

"I'm a figment of your imagination. You're dreaming, Peter." Neal pulled something out of his pocket and pushed a button on the small remote control. The anklet went "pop" as it released the agent. Peter turned his head weakly and looked as he pulled his leg away from the constraint.

"This is a dream? Then... you are..." Neal shook his head.

"I never said I was. But I can't be for sure I'm not. What do you think? Do you trust what your eyes showed you?" He pointed at the wall and suddenly Peter saw the two-way mirror again and Neal's death scene. Peter turned his eyes away.

"Peter, you have to watch. It's the only way you can remember and know. Please..." The agent opened his eyes and stared at his friend, those big blue eyes looking at him like a puppy dog. He nodded reluctantly and watched the memory.

He saw Neal's body thrashing then collapse and twitch ever so slightly before going still. He remembered cursing at the masked man and watching the other one confirm Caffrey's death then drag him out of sight. Peter watched despite his better judgment when he noticed something.

"Did you just... I saw your hand move!" Peter wanted to rewind the scene and he saw the virtual Neal use the remote and push another button. The scene rewound and played back slow. The second masked man was carrying the supposedly dead Neal away when he saw Neal's hand move. The young man was alive!

"Neal, you're... Neal?" He turned and didn't see the con standing there anymore. He felt something in his hand and saw the remote. There was a small yellow post-it stuck to the side that read:

"Push the play button to wake up." Peter blinked looking down at the mini remote and all the various buttons. He wasn't sure which one was play although he did see a small green arrow pointing right that looked familiar. Peter looked at the button again and reached to push it when the door to the room opened up.

"The game isn't over yet. Now give me the remote, Agent Burke." Peter saw a gun in the masked man's hand. He heard the gun cocked, remote still in hand.

"One more time, hand me the remote, Agent Burke." Peter looked at the remote and saw an equal sign he knew meant "pause" and another one that was a white square that usually stood for "stop." He saw the masked man pull the trigger. Peter pushed the equal sign and saw the bullet stop just short of his forehead. He backed up and stepped aside then pushed "pause" again and the bullet zipped past him hitting the wall.

"This is my dream. You can't control me here." He pushed another button that showed two yellow arrows pointing left. He saw the masked man about to speak when everything suddenly went backwards, the bullet returning to the gun as the man stepped back to the door and closed it. Peter pushed the stop button around then and glanced down at the green arrow.

"Well, here goes..." He pushed it and closed his eyes.

(There's no place like home)

Peter woke up to find himself still in the "dentist's" chair. He was shivering uncontrollably, his shoulder burning with renewed vigor. He could barely move having worn himself out, his shirt soaked through with blood. He heard someone running down the corridor towards him. He didn't have the strength to do more than lie there, head slumped forward, chin resting on his chest. Someone reached around and touched him on the shoulder and he moved his eyes up slowly.

He was probably dreaming again, but he thought he saw Jones standing there looking at him. He started to laugh despite himself.

"Jones... wow. Everyone's in this dream. If I push the other button maybe Elizabeth will come by and take me home." He chuckled deliriously as Jones placed a hand on his head.

"You're burning up with fever! Hey! Man down over here. Get a paramedic here stat!" Peter watched Jones put his gun away and start to unstrap his boss from the chair. He smiled at his subordinate with a lopsided grin.

"Peter, we're going to get you to a hospital ok. You've lost alot of blood. You're in shock." Peter nodded but continued to smile as if Jones had said something really funny. He watched the agent and his twin waver infront of his eyes as he spoke with a slurred tongue.

"I never knew you had a twin brother, Jones. He's behind you... what's his name?" Jones blinked and felt the agent's head again with a worried look.

"Peter, do you know where Caffrey is?" Peter squinted at the agent and pointed at the two-way mirror. Jone's nodded and made a motion for some agents to check out the room.

"Trust... he trusted me. Why? I couldn't help him. Jones..." Peter felt sick all of a sudden, his cheeks bloating out a bit as he put a hand to his mouth. Jones looked around and found a bucket and placed it under his boss' face. Peter threw up till he couldn't throw up any more then leaned back in the chair and started to slump a bit more than he had.

"Stay awake, Peter. The paramedics are coming." Peter nodded sleepily, his eyes looking at the two-way mirror. His head lolled to one shoulder and his eyes began to close as someone shook him.

"Peter... Peter... Are the paramedics here?" Jones' voice faded into the darkness as Peter passed out.