(Chapter 6)

When they arrived back at the Burke's home, Neal went upstairs to wash up as Peter went to the kitchen to pull something out to eat. He closed the bathroom door and washed his hands and face, looking at himself in the mirror. His face still looked very tight and wan but it was early. He had only just come back. He would heal and that old sparkle would return he hoped. Even Neal noticed something missing in himself since his ordeal. Things had changed and yet... they remained the same as he dried his hands and face and left the bathroom for the downstairs. It was strangely quiet when he walked into the living room, the young man making his way to the kitchen and seeing the fridge closed and food on the counter but no Peter.

"Peter?"

Neal called out but heard nothing as he looked around the small space and even down into the basement. There was no sign of the agent as he started to grow nervous. He glanced at the backdoor, a sound outside drawing his attention to it as he peered out and saw nothing through the curtained window but finally opened up the door to look around and saw a small square and somewhat thick envelope on the stoop. Neal looked around a moment before he picked up the package and opened it up curiosity getting the better of him. He found a small white box, like you would give jewelry in with a bright red silk ribbon around it inside the envelope. It seemed innocuous enough as he pulled the ribbon and slowly it unraveled, the top of the box loose enough now to open up. There was a kind of nervousness about him as he removed the lid, dropping the box as he stepped back with a loud intake of breath at it's contents.

The box clattered quietly to the ground, hitting the steps and tumbling slightly to the grass below, the object inside the box rolling out and slightly away. Neal closed his eyes, trying not to be sick as he gazed back down at the thing he'd found that made his pulse race and heart pound in horror. After what seemed a lifetime Neal crouched down to poke at the object, picking it up with the loose cotton lining that had been in the box. It was a finger, plain and simple. A finger that had been cut forcibly from its owner and still had traces of blood where it had once connected to a body. He felt nauseated but looked at the finger realizing it wasn't (thankfully) Peter's although this still didn't explain who it did belong to or who had left it for him to find. He was about to toss it in a nearby trashcan when he noticed the lid of the box was upside down and seemed to have some light writing on it. Neal wrapped up the finger in the cotton lining, placing it on top of the trashcan lid before reaching down for the box top and reading the text.

The dead will have their revenge on the guilty...

Neal recognized the writing although he wished he didn't, the letters burning into his brain as he remembered the log book he'd found that first day he tried to escape the ship. There was no way... no way that he was still alive. Neal knew what he had done, though it had been in the throes of trying to save himself and the others. He had killed him. Lynkos was dead!

"Neal?"

He heard the agent's voice on the other side of the partially open door, the young man frozen by uncertainty and fear as he looked at the writing on the inside of the box lid then back at the finger wrapped in the cotton lining from the box itself. He quickly took the pieces of the box, pushing the finger and ribbon inside of it and stuck it behind the trashcan as Peter opened up the door and peered out at him.

"Hey, sorry about leaving you... alone. Satchmo needed to go out. I was going to make sandwiches. Are you hungry?"

He noticed Peter's hesitation, looking curiously around as if for someone or something making Neal think he wasn't hiding his discomfort from the unexpected present very well. He shrugged, moving to enter but noticing Peter still looking at him curious of something.

"I just needed some air... and I came back here to look for you when I noticed the house was empty."

The agent seemed to take it in for a moment what he said then nodded, putting a brotherly arm around him as they went back inside and closed the door.

()()()

Neal kept worrying about the box and the contents within as they finished up lunch, his hunger less than spectacular as he mentally chewed on the idea that Lynkos might still be alive. He had seen the man die, his own hands having pulled the trigger that killed him. Had they made a mistake? He shivered slightly, feeling a firm hand on his shoulder that made him jump.

"Neal? Are you ok? You look kind of peaked. We could wait before we go pick up your things at June's if you'd rather rest a bit..."

The agent was looking at him worriedly but Neal just shook his head. Maybe he could use some more rest but at the moment he debated telling his friend about the mystery package. Neal was distracted by his own thoughts when he heard the backdoor opening and Peter's voice calling back to him.

"I almost forgot to put the trash out for tomorrow. El would have killed me if I didn't remember."

Neal blinked, turning towards the back door as he heard the sound of Peter moving the lid off the plastic trash can and then a sound of surprise.

"What's this?"

It was too soon and he was too far away to move faster as he heard a gasp from his friend, his feet moving him to the door as quickly as possible. Peter stood there on the small stoop, the jewelry box on the ground and the finger laying there beside it. The agent looked about as pale as he had probably felt when he had found the same box only Peter went into agent mode and carefully grabbed up the appendage in the cotton lining and looked back at Neal.

"You came out for air? Neal... you have to tell me what's going on."

He watched Peter lift the box to read the inside of the lid as he noticed the inside writing.

"The dead will have their revenge on the guilty..."

Neal felt his face flush with guilt and dread. He didn't want to think about this right now. He didn't want to have to explain more of what happened. He just wanted to forget!

"This has to do with what happened, doesn't it? Someone from that band you told me about. The man you killed... Neal, tell me what's going on or I can't help you! Don't shut me out."

He saw the sincerity of his friend, knowing he should be honest but that old lingering doubt hit him hard. He trusted Peter with so many things and yet he pulled back and felt silence fall over him. He just stared down at the man who had taken him in and taken him back as if he were a long lost brother and said nothing. Peter had to understand why...

"Fine... but I'm going to have to send this to evidence. This isn't over and we are going to discuss this."

Peter his friend was promptly replaced with Agent Burke who put the finger back into the box with the ribbon and closed the lid as he finished putting the trash away and walked back into the house. Neal didn't follow at first but he heard that fatherly cough of Peter's and turned to enter. He closed the door feeling like a child who had lied about a report card or worse as he kept his head lowered, eyes averted. Something about Peter always made him feel like he should have done more or better. He didn't resent the agent but he felt a sibling animosity of sorts towards him at times.

"Neal, we're going to talk about this. Maybe not now but we will. We need to go log this into evidence. Put your jacket on..."

Neal felt his hands clenching into fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms as he bit on his cheek till he tasted blood. Peter had already started towards the front door turning to see Neal still standing there stiffly.

"Neal, come on already!"

He sounded so much like a father figure but even though it was innocent enough, worry evident in his voice, Neal felt anger boiling up inside him. He exploded when he felt the agent's hand touch him gently on the shoulder.

"No! I'm not going with you. You can't tell me what to do!"

He struck Peter's hand away violently, the agent looking shocked as Neal pushed him against the wall, his other hand in a fist ready to strike. Peter's face was drained of color as he waited for the hit but Neal came back to himself, his hand unclenching inches from the agent's face before he moved back, uncertain what had come over him. Neal saw the look on the Peter's face as he took a few more steps backwards and reached for the backdoor. Peter didn't move, brown eyes staring at him with shock and confusion. He understood that look all to well as he turned and left the house through the back door, running to the back gate and leaving the yard as he ran as fast as he could without looking back.

()()()

Peter waited for his friend to hit him, having expected it many times when they had been looking for Kate but nothing happened. Neal's face had paled, the anger fading some from those blue eyes and replaced by a terrified look. Neal backed away and he let him, his own body frozen with shock from the incident and unable to react till he heard the gate slam shut in the backyard. Suddenly he could move again, Peter moving from the wall with a wince. Neal had shoved him harder than he thought he could for such a slight built but the young man had reacted to something. Neal had always been reactive but not like this. Maybe something had snapped in him due to his experience. Peter thought about the mental trauma and how it was still there when he had told the story. Neal was unstable but he was still Neal.

He went into the kitchen and pulled a sandwich bag from the drawer and put the jewelry box and finger in it. He pulled out his cell and dialed a familiar number.

"Jones, Burke. No I'm fine. I need you to help me with something. Can you stop by my house? Thanks."

He hung up the phone and sighed, closing the back door as he moved over to the living room. Satchmo was looking up at him curiously.

"I didn't overreact, Satch."

The dog just stared up at him without a sound till Peter plopped down on the sofa with the small evidence type bag in hand.

"Maybe I did go into crazy agent mode... It's a finger! A human finger! Anyone who'd leave that as a warning isn't joking around, Satch."

He placed the bag on the coffee table and sighed again, rubbing at his face tiredly. He thought that having Neal here again was a good thing and it was. That wasn't the issue. The main problem was getting Neal to talk to him. Peter really knew half the story. He needed his friend to tell him the rest before something bad happened. There was a knock at the front door as he came back to the present and stood to answer it.

That was fast.

His thoughts were wondering at the speeds Jones was driving to show up this soon. Elizabeth wouldn't be knocking and he doubted Neal would return this early. Once Jones had the bag he was going to look for the young man but he had to wait for his colleague to show up. Peter unlocked the door and chain when it suddenly flew open, hitting him hard in the chest and throwing him back against he banister of the stairs. The wind was knocked out of him at the unexpected move as someone crowded the door and closed it behind them with a quiet click of the lock and chain. He looked up with bleary eyes to see a very large man standing there in a heavy overcoat. Their face was covered by a thick scarf and hat over their face. He barely had time to think as large hands pulled him to his feet and flipped him around roughly, arms yanked back as he heard the zip of ties pulled around his wrists. A hand wrapped itself in his hair and pulled his head back hard, a gravelly voice with a slight accent speaking to him coldly.

"Your little friend ran out on you. It's a shame. I had hoped he would stay long enough to see you die."

Peter suddenly realized who this was, struggling to free himself before a huge fit hit him across the face and stunned him into submission.

"I see where he gets his stubbornness from. Maybe your head in a box will bring him round. I wish to see you little pet con again."

()()()

Neal ran for what seemed hours until he was out of breath and ready to fall over from exhaustion. He wasn't sure why he acted the way he did. He wasn't mad at Peter. The agent was only doing what was natural for him and it had nothing to do with Neal or placing blame. Peter was worried and concerned for him especially after what had happened. He thought about how close he had come to hitting his friend square in the jaw and laughed a bit, but it was a nervous sort of laugh that ended up turning to a sniffle and cough as he felt warm tears fall from his eyes. Why was he acting this way? Why was he so angry? Maybe Lynkos wasn't dead and obviously the man still affected him even in death. It could be stress from what happened but the finger... he couldn't forget about that token someone had left him in Lynkos own handwriting. Either the captain was still alive by some miracle (hadn't he survived his own horrible near death experience?) or someone was trying to make it look like he had to scare him. Nobody knew he was alive but Peter, El and June and now Hughes. Four people and none of them would have told a soul about this or spread the word so soon for an enemy to come after him.

He mused over the possibilities as he paused to sit on a bus bench and think things out. He had to go back and apologize. Peter... well he hoped he'd be forgiven but he didn't deserve it after what he did. He had thought the agent would chase him but he was alone as he sat on the bench and waited. He saw a taxi coming by and stood to hail it as the car slowed and he gave them Peter's address and slipped inside. It was warm inside the car, stifling after his run. He loosened his collar and sighed, leaning back tiredly in the seat and feeling a pain in his legs from his long sprint. He had been running from his past and everything that had happened over the past year. Neal had been running from himself. He felt out of control but Peter, he deserved better. The agent was just trying to help him. Neal nodded to himself with a slight smile. He would apologize and hope for the best but if Peter said he had to go, he would understand. He had been staying in some dives for the past month or more scouting out the time he could approach his friends but he could do it again. He still had some cash on him.

The cab slowed down, Neal paying them as he exited the vehicle and stood on the sidewalk outside Peter's home. It seemed like a daunting effort but he had to make his way up those few steps and apologize. He stiffened his resolve and trotted cautiously up those steps raising his hand to knock when someone touched his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his clothes. Neal turned to see a familiar figure standing there, their eyes as wide as his own as the man looked incredulously at him.

"Neal? Neal Caffrey?"

Jones stood there looking like he had just seen a ghost, his dark skin paling some as Neal nodded back at the agent feeling a sense of relief at seeing a familiar face. Jones would be the buffer between the two if Peter would just forgive him.

"Peter... I was supposed to meet him here for something but he... I didn't know you were back. Aren't you supposed to be..."

He didn't seem to be able to say it but Neal nodded.

"Everyone thought I was dead. I thought I was but it's a long story. I guess you're here to talk to Peter about the gift I was left on the back stoop?"

Neal saw the agent nod but there was that shocked look to him still as he poked the young man and seemed to finally get it.

"I'm real, Clinton. I'm not going to fade away like a ghost or bubble. I guess Peter was waiting to tell you about me. He barely talked to Hughes today about my coming back."

Jones woke up when he heard that, staring at him curiously as they finally rang the doorbell.

"How did Hughes take your rebirth?"

Neal saw the agent looking at him with curiosity as he told him how shocked Hughes was.

"I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel. He went ashen just like you did a moment ago."

They rang the bell again, also knocking as they continued their conversation, distracted by their unexpected reunion.

"I can't... it's just... It's good to see you again. You can't begin to imagine how unbelievably gloomy things have been with you gone. Peter became a workaholic like you wouldn't believe!"

Neal's attention was on the door now, curious why his friend wasn't answering. Clinton seemed to be concerned too as they both gave a look at the knob and decided without words (as they did in the past) to just open the door. It was locked. Jones looked to Neal who seemed surprised but poked around in his pockets till he had what he needed. He no longer had an official lock picking kit but had managed to always keep a few clips and such on him for emergencies since he'd returned to New York. He pulled them out now and with a bit of effort the door unlocked but didn't open. The chain was in place. Jones called out through the crack.

"PETER? You there? It's Jones and Caffrey!"

There was no answer as Neal used one of the clips he turned into a kind of hook to undo the latch and open up the door as they entered the house. Clinton had his gun at the ready looking around. They noticed very little out of place but for one item...

"This is Peter's shoe. He was wearing them today but why would he leave only one?"

Neal turned to see Satchmo missing as they moved around the first floor and found the back door partially ajar. Peter wouldn't have left the door open if he left the house. Both men went into the back yard but nobody was there. Jones went back inside to check out the kitchen and upstairs as Neal stayed behind and tried to see if he could find anything on his own. He heard a noise at the back door and turned to look outside and find Satchmo sitting there whining as he opened it back up. The dog clung to him as he petted the big lab on the head and tried to calm him down. Satch was shaking, doggy eyes looking wide and afraid as Jones came down and told him the coast was clear, cell in hand.

"Let me call Hughes. I don't see much in the way of a struggle other than that one shoe but let's play this safe."

Jones made his call as Neal continued to sooth the lab and move over to the sofa where he noticed the bag with the box that held the severed finger. He cringed mentally and physically away from the thing until he saw a sheet of paper pushed under the bag that was partially hidden from view. His curiosity got the better of him again as he pulled the paper out and nearly cried out as he saw something red and dripping on it. The note fluttered to the floor where he noticed that red liquid spelled out a message. He crouched down to view it as he pushed the now curious Satchmo from the paper and read it.

You stole that which was mine and now I steal that which gave you hope. Meet me where I last lived and perhaps I will return that which you have now lost.

The message was smeared in blood messily but neat enough to be read. Jones came over to talk to him and immediately made a face.

"What the heck is that? Caffrey?"

Neal just stared down in silent horror at the message till he swallowed hard and found his voice again.

"Lynkos... he wants me to meet him for Peter. He's come back from the dead to get his revenge..."

Neal dropped the note to the coffee table as he collapsed to his knees and just knelt there looking like he'd made a pact with the devil. Perhaps he had but it had been by no conscious want of his own. Lynkos had found him and kept him as a prized possession till he was unable to sell or control him. He broke him as much as he could and in the end Neal had killed him or so he thought.

"Lynkos? What are you talking about Neal? I don't understand... Hughes and Diana will be here soon with some more agents. I'm going to find a bag to put that note in..."

Jones seemed reluctant to leave him but walked off after a moment to the kitchen. Satchmo whined near the young man, his doggie eyes looking at Neal as if to say "Help him." Neal turned his face from the dog's, the huge lab nudging him gently and continuing to whine till he finally looked at the beast and hugged him.

"I'll do what I can, Satch. I can't promise anything."

oOoOoOo

Author's Notes: If you've noticed, I'm doing 2 chapters at a time although I started with three. Just have a lot to write and figured that would get more out. I'm keeping each chapter between 3 and 4 k to keep it long enough and still interesting. Thanks for all the great reviews and for reading!