Author's Note: Ah, I love you guys! Just to let ya'll know, Neal threw an epic hissy fit after the last chapter so… needless to say he's in trouble…

Neal: Aren't I always in trouble?

Me: Well, if your in one of my stories you are… most likely…

Neal: Remind me why I'm in your stories to begin with…

Me: Because you my dear walked into the trap when you wouldn't let me draw you.

Neal: ~sticks out tongue~

Me: Can I have my cell phone back now?

Neal: (snorts) No! Not until you stop this mindless violence!

Me: Guess I'm never going to get it back. PETER! Neal took my phone again!

Peter: Leave me out of this Serinidia!

Anyhoo, on with the story!

Neal groaned softly as he felt someone tapping his face and urging him to wake up. For a brief minute he thought it was Peter but when he cracked his eyes open to half mast he realized that it was the exact opposite of Peter. The red-headed lady was squatting in front of him and was tapping him on the cheek in an effort to rouse him. Her emerald eyes were sympathetic as she helped him sit up.

Danchien came over so that he was looming over both of them and Neal flinched at the man's sudden appearance. Danchien smirked as he knelt next to his nemesis and patted Neal's leg in what would have seemed to be a friendly fashion if one of the guards was watching.

His friends in the higher up offices of the FBI had made it so that the younger reformed con artist had been forced to stay for at least another day. He grinned as he saw Neal wince and then growled when he saw the woman hold the con-artist's hand.

Ruth was smart enough to know a warning, no matter how primitive it was. She scooted backwards with an apologetic smile to Neal and her green eyes flashed with resentment. Danchien simply smiled in triumph as he grabbed Neal by the collar of his shirt and hauled him into a sitting position. Neal groaned as his ribs protested the sudden movement and coughed when he swallowed wrong.

"Hate to wake you up from your beauty sleep Caffrey but I do believe its time that we get this show on the road. You see, we've all been in our cell like good little felons and we want out. Thanks to your generous act of kindness we now have a means of getting out of the cell. But we want more than that. You will lead us out of here without any of us being caught." Danchien shook Neal roughly at the end of his monologue making the younger man whimper softly.

The felon stood back and waited impatiently for Neal to get up. When the younger man showed no interest of getting up by himself Danchien growled and yanked him to his feet.

Neal doubled over with a hoarse cry of pain and his bad leg gave way. He fell to the side, his balance thrown off and practically non-existent. The consultant felt tinier and far more gently hands lift him back up into a sitting position and he did his best to hold back a groan of pain. "T-thanks." He gasped, grateful that the woman was helping him instead of leaving him to Danchien's not so kind hands.

"Are you ready?" The question was purred into his ear and Neal jumped in surprise. He nodded slowly and felt her hands slide up his arms and then under his arm pits in as she sought to get a good hold on him. She grunted as she strained upwards and Neal pushed off of the ground with his good leg. With her help he managed to stumble to his feet and he flashed her a version of the charming smile that usually graced his features.

Danchien had grown impatient during the process and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Hurry it up Caffrey." He barked as he unlocked the door with the bloodstained key. Neal rolled his eyes and managed to limp forward, his facial expression taught with pain.

Every movement made it feel like he was being hit by a freight train repeatedly. His brain was working madly, trying to formulate a plan that would make it so that he could escape while trapping the rest of the criminals in the building.

Peter Burke sighed restlessly as he tossed and turned in his bed. El was watching him worriedly but she didn't say anything. Satchmo whined from the corner of the room and went over to the bed. The yellow lab nudged Peter's hand with a wet nose and licked the fingers dangling over the bed.

Peter grinned and fondly rubbed Satchmo's ears. The big dog's tail thumped against the side of the bed as the lab leaned into the caresses. The federal agent sighed as he ran a hand over his face. Jesus Neal, I'm sorry, he apologized to his friend mentally. Damn the rules! He grinned slightly at the irony of the thought and shook his head. Only you Neal could make it so that I would damn the rules.

If only he could get his partner out of that hell hole now rather than later. He felt El touch his arm and he turned around to look at her. Her beautiful eyes were moist and she was blinking rapidly. Peter smiled at her sadly and hugged her. He could feel her body shudder and the moisture of tears that were soaking through his shirt. The agent rubbed his wife's back awkwardly as he attempted to calm her down and to be the support she needed.

"We'll get him out of there El." He whispered soothingly, needing to hear the phrase spoken out loud as much as she did. "I'll get him out of there."

She sniffled and he felt her nod against his chest as she continued to sob. Peter leaned over and grabbed the box of tissues off of the nightstand and handed it to her. She grinned at him weakly. "Don't want me to use your shirt as a Kleenex?" El teased in an attempt to lighten the mood a little bit.

Peter just nodded as he felt his eyes slide shut and felt her nestle up against him before drifting into an uneasy sleep.

The guard sat on his couch that furnished the small living room in his apartment with a sigh. Traffic had been horrible and the hour long drive that he normally had, had turned into a three hour drive.

He had missed Covert Affairs. Damn it! He prayed that his DVR had actually worked for once and crowed triumphantly when he saw that the show had been recorded after all. He felt the envelope in his breast pocket crinkle and he took it out carefully.

A fine white powder drifted out of the envelope as he opened it and he sneezed violently. His body twitched and he gasped as a razor sharp pain shot through his bowels. The guard's vision blurred and his eyes watered. Blood ran out of his nose in a steady crimson river.

His last thought was that it was completely unfair for fate to tease him like this. How could it be so cruel as to make him miss Covert Affairs (by watching it when it was programmed) and then to cruelly dangle the show right in front of his face before keeping him from watching it yet again? He vowed that if it was possible he would turn into a ghost and that he would see that episode.

The man in the white suit smiled a grim smile that personified death as he saw the guard draw in his last shuddering breath. He huffed out another puff of smoke from his cigar and turned of the monitor. He turned in his chair and flipped on several other screens and his brow furrowed when he saw Ruth helping their target. Those fierce emerald eyes held a soft look in them and the white suited figure slammed a fist on the desk in front of him. Emotionless black eyes flared suddenly like lightning flaring across the night-time sky.

Damn you Neal Caffrey! I will not allow you to charm your way out of this one.

The 'damned' con artist limped weakly down the narrow corridor as his he sought to remember the way he had gone the last time he had escaped. Danchien shoved him roughly and Neal stumbled just barely catching himself before he had a chance to land flat on his face. He could feel warm blood running down his calf and winced as his ribs throbbed mercilessly.

Neal had been walking for over an hour now and was surprised that he was still even conscious let alone walking. His hands felt along the wall as he searched for the hidden exit that he had discovered the last time he had come through here. If he could find it and slip into the dark space before Danchien or anyone else had a chance of following him, he could lock it from the inside.

Danchien caught onto what Neal was doing and he began to press against the wall in different spots. He slammed the wall with his body in frustration and gasped as he collided rather painfully with it. He saw Neal roll his eyes in a, you're a dumbass, manner and growled.

Danchien looked back at the wall in front of him for a long minute and when he looked back at where Caffrey was he snarled angrily. The young man was nowhere to be seen and Danchien was furious. The felon swore that he would make Neal suffer before he finally killed him. He would make the younger man beg for death, for a release from the overwhelming agony.

Neal Caffrey gasped with relief as he allowed his body to lean against and slide down the wall. He moved his injured leg gingerly as he stretched out in front of him. The reformed con artist closed his eyes, willing for the darkness to take him while his stomach growled hungrily. When was the last time he had eaten?

It had to have been at least two days ago if not more. Danchien had seen to that.

After a brief respite, Neal forced himself to keep moving. He almost screamed when a hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed his arm. "Peter?" The consultant asked in an almost delirious fashion.

"No, its just me." A feminine voice answered him soothingly.

"How'd you get in here?"

"Followed you. Listen you don't have much time before Danchien realizes where the door is so we need to move faster."

"We?"

"I'm going to help you. I don't like Danchien any more than you do and I don't belong here. I was accused of stealing something that I didn't steal and they also accused me of murdering several people. I never did any of those things and I should at least be in a woman's prison. Someone must have pulled some serious strings to get me dumped in here."

Neal just grunted in reply as he started off stiffly down the narrow hallway. Her arm slipped around his waist and let him use her as a support.

It took the odd duo and hour to reach the end of the passage and it should have only taken twenty minutes but Neal was gasping for air by the time they reached the large chamber at the end of the hallway.

They could hear footsteps racing behind them and they both knew that it was more than likely Danchien.

Neal fumbled around for the light switch, needing to see what the hell he was doing. His hand closed around it when a searing pain shot through his stomach. The thirty-two year old screamed in pain, doubling over completely. His hands flew to the area that was the source of the pain and gasped in surprise when he felt the hilt of a knife protruding from the area. Trembling hands moved out further and came across slim, delicate hands.

Ruth's hands.

"R-r-r-uth?" Neal gasped the woman's name in disbelief as he sank down onto his knees with a pained whimper as the woman he had thought he could trust twisted the weapon cruelly.

"You are so naïve Neal. You really thought that I was on your side?" The voice was filled with a mocking scorn.

Neal didn't answer her as he sagged back against the wall and concentrated on breathing. The knife twisted again before being pushed upwards. Neal's back arched and he screamed as the agony ripped through his consciousness in torrential waves. He whimpered softly and clenched his jaw so hard that his jaw's muscles were clearly visible.

"I just thought that you should know that Peter set this up Neal. This entire thing has just been one elaborate con orchestrated with the intent of getting rid of you."

No! Peter wouldn't do that to me, Neal retorted with his thoughts as he sought to push a new wave of pain to the back of his mind. "N-n-oo." He gasped in denial.

"Oh, Neal. How do you manage to be so damn naïve? He's hated this whole drama deal since it started. Burke and his wife are tired of having to worry about his job every day. You're a liability."

Neal winced and his hands were clenched into fists at his side.

"Everyone at that office hates having to babysit a con artist. That's not what they were hired to do. If they had wanted to then they would've become prison guards."

Neal shook his head in disbelief. Don't listen to her; he encouraged himself, his heart telling him that Ruth was lying.

"It's true Neal." A familiar voice hissed hatefully from the far corner.

Neal felt like he'd just been gutted and had his internal working put out on display. His mind was reeling in shock as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing.

"You've been a dead weight to me ever since we met. I only agreed to work with you because Hughes offered to upgrade my pay check by a significant amount. It's the same with the rest of the team. Our deal was to play nice, and keep the hate secret."

Neal gasped sharply and bit his lip in an attempt to stop the whimper. "P—Peter?" He gasped as his eyes started to water.

"What!" The reply was snapped angrily and Neal flinched. The hate in his 'best friend's' voice shook him to the core. The gaping hole in his heart that had been caused by Kate's death stretched and tore even more at the betrayal he was trying to confront.

Neal squinted into the gloom as he tried to see Peter, needing to see for himself that it really was Peter. As if sensing Neal's need the figure stepped out of the shadows to reveal the familiar profile and features of one FBI Agent Peter Burke.

Tears of hurt (emotional hurt) that Neal had been fighting to keep at bay trickled down his cheeks and a gut-wrenching sob shook his body. "I-I don' understan'." Neal breathed the words out as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing and seeing.

"I thought that you were smarter than this Neal, seems like that was a load of bull too." Peter reached into the pocket inside of his suit and pulled something long and shiny out of the pocket. He waved the gun in front of Neal tauntingly as he lashed out with his foot.

Neal yelped and doubled over as the foot connected with his side while Ruth simultaneously ripped the knife out. The yelp turned into a haunting scream as the young man tried his best to cope both physically and mentally with everything that was being thrust upon him.

Peter Burke shifted uncomfortably in his bed, doing his best not to disturb Elizabeth, who was still snuggled up against his chest. He looked over at the alarm clock and realized that he was running late with picking Neal up.

Oh wait, there is no Neal to pick up he reminded himself miserably. He wondered what his friend was doing right now. An image of a beaten and hunched over Neal popped into his mind and he shook his head in an attempt to get rid of it. The Neal in the image looked up and Peter saw an immense amount of suffering in his friend's eyes. Eyes that were begging the agent to save him.

Peter shuddered as he tried to wipe the image off his mind and he was glad that El was snuggled up against him. The physical contact reassured him and helped to calm down some of his nerves. It was amazing how his wife emanated such a calm and soothing aura even while she was still sound asleep.

An hour later, Peter and El were both dressed and ready to leave the house. El had gotten showered and ready in a record breaking time that left her husband reeling in a shocked disbelief.

Peter was determined to see Neal again today; he had to reassure himself that his friend was ok. Well, at least alive.

The car ride down the long stretch of road was silent, both of its passengers lost in thought and doing their best to keep a calm appearance for the other's sake. Peter parked the car as soon as they reached the prison and raced inside, El right behind him. There wasn't a receptionist at the desk and Peter raised a worried eyebrow.

"I want you to go back to the car."

"No. I'm coming with you!" El argued, desperate to see Neal again.

"Listen to me El, if there is something wrong in there I'm going to need you to be able to call Hughes for me. I won't have time to talk while I'm back there ok?"

El nodded reluctantly. "You'll bring him back?"

"I wouldn't dream of leaving him in there."

Elizabeth nodded and with a small good-luck hug started back out to the car.

Peter looked around in dismay as he walked past row after row of empty cells. Convicted felons should have been contained in those cells but now there wasn't any sign of the inhabitants.

There was a trail of blood leading out of one of them and Peter felt the blood drain out of his face in horror. He was almost one-hundred percent sure that it was Neal's. Face ashen, Peter followed the trail with his gun drawn.

He frowned in concentration when the trail ended in front of a portion of the wall and looked around in confusion. The squeak of old shoes alerted Peter to the other man's presence before the latter had a chance to attack.

Peter whirled around with a furious expression on his face and he lashed out. The blow sent the other man crumpling without a sound and Peter crouched over the slack body like a panther guarding its kill.

He had chosen not to shoot the man because he hadn't wanted to alert anyone else of his presence. He walked back over to the wall and took out the lighter in his pocket. He always carried it because hey, you never knew when one might come in handy.

Peter flipped it on and ripped off a piece of clothing from the man he had felled and set it on fire. The smoke from the flames wafted to the wall in front of him and vanished into the wall. Peter was just starting to sort out what was going on when a heart-wrenching scream sounded from the other side.

"Neal!" Peter screamed his partner's name as fear shot through his system. He rammed up against the wall and stumbled forward when it gave way. Peter didn't stop to look around; instead he raced down the narrow hall. The agent skidded to a stop at the mouth of the hall and stared in horror.

A man that looked exactly like him was standing over Neal with a gun. His partner was trembling in fear and pain. Peter felt his heart twist painfully at the expression of pure hurt in Neal's eyes as the brilliant blue orbs looked into the terrible brown ones that loomed over him.

Hell, the man even sounded like him. Peter was frozen to the spot in horror as he saw the gun lower so that it was aimed at the trembling youth and flinched when he heard a loud report echo around the room and down the hall.

No one shoots my partner and doesn't pay for it! Peter swore as he lunged out of his stupefied trance. The launch was so powerful that he slammed into his clone, sending them both sprawling on the hard grown. Peter caught a glimpse of his friend and was relieved to see that Neal was still conscious although the younger man probably though that he was hallucinating as Peter slugged the clone hard in the face.

Blood rushed out of the false Peter's nose and Peter grinned savagely as he struck out again. There was a snap as the man's nose broke and Peter leaned to the side as the other man attempted to retaliate.

Peter gasped as a foot lashed out of nowhere, hitting him in the stomach and the agent let himself roll with the kick. He knew that he would sustain less damage that way but that didn't mean that it kept the blow from hurting. He heard a gun cock from above him and he froze when he saw a colt staring him in the face. Both his clone and a woman he dimly recognized were standing over him. The clone was holding the gun and the woman was grasping a bloody knife in her right hand.

No one noticed as Neal stretched his arm out and managed to grasp the handle of a gun. He recognized it as Peter's and steeled himself for the pain he was about to face before forcing his body into a sitting position.

The pain was excruciating and Neal fought with every fiber of his being to keep silent. Somehow he managed to stay quiet and he aimed the gun shakily at the man he now realized was Peter's clone.

His vision blurred and Neal squinted as he tried to discern where the man really was. There were two of the fake Peter and Neal flinched when he heard the man cock the hammer to the gun back. He saw the gun swing down to aim at Peter. Desperation cleared Neal's vision and he took advantage of the opportunity to take the shot.

Peter Burke flinched when the sound of a gun going off echoed around the cavity for the second time. He looked around in surprise when he didn't feel any burning pain shoot through him. Then he looked up just in time to see his clone fall to the ground, a perfect bullet hole was formed in the center of the area between the man's eyes. Peter moved his gaze down back up and saw a shaking Neal slowly lower a smoking gun.

Peter nodded in appreciation to his partner before he rolled to the side quickly. He had forgotten about the flame haired beauty. She had tried to take advantage of his distraction but luckily Neal had saved him again. The younger man had nodded in the woman's direction with a look of fear on his face and Peter had realized exactly what his partner was trying to tell him.

The evasive maneuver that Peter had performed threw the lady off balance and she stumbled with a curse. Peter took advantage of the opportunity and tripped her up with his legs before standing up in a single fluid motion. Crouching over her, Peter slammed her head into the floor so hard that she was instantly knocked out and she would be out for a long time.

Peter sighed in relief and rocked back on his heels as he caught his breath. Then he remembered Neal and ran over to his partner. "Neal?" Peter panted his friend's name questioningly.

There was a low groan and the blue eyes flitted open as the younger man attempted to move into a more comfortable position. Neal's breathing was raspy and erratic as he struggled to stay conscious.

Peter noticed the difficulty Neal was having with breathing so he gently lifted the younger man forward and scooted behind his friend so that he could support Neal better than the wall was. He also knew that the closeness would help comfort Neal as the man who was like a son to him fought the battle for survival.

Peter reached his arm around Neal's torso and put pressure on the bullet wound with his hand and used his arm to put pressure on the knife injury. The position was awkward and uncomfortable for Peter but he didn't care, as long as it helped Neal he would stay like this.

Peter reached into his pocket and flipped his cell phone open. He pressed the speed dial for El's number. Peter told her to call 911 for cops and a bus. He had decided to have her call because he didn't want to try to do two things at the same time while attempting to take care of his friend.

Neal's breathing sounded a little bit better until the younger man had a horrendous coughing fit. The coughs were wet and deep causing Peter to frown in concern. He patted Neal on the back and did his best to help the younger man through the spasm while tears of pain leaked out of his partner's eyes.

When Neal pulled his hand away after the last cough Peter gasped in surprise. Shit…

The palm of Neal's hand was covered in blood. Blood that hadn't been there before the coughing fit…

Author's Note: Oooh, I'm evil aren't I? But hey, guess what the evil authoress did for you guys? She typed a chappie that was over 4,000 words long and fended off a very pissed Neal that tried to keep hitting the backspace button every other word.

Neal: Did not!

Me: Yes you did. You aren't going to con my ermm.. our audience into thinking that you are innocent.

Neal: I might have "allegedly" done something of the sort…

Anyways, please leave a review if you want to find out what happens!

P.S. I apologize if Peter seemed a bit out of character and I hope you weren't terribly confused by the clone business…

Oh yeah, do you guys find the chapter easier to read when its aligned in the middle like this or when its aligned to the left like normal?