Oh my gosh! I am SO SORRY I haven't been on in forever! I got grounded from the computer, and then I had a huge assignment for school that I had to do! Again, I am so very sorry! I'm back now though! I hope I can make up my being absent up to you, I really do. Okay, so here is the next chapter for Cornered. Hope you like it, seems a little cheesy to me, but you never know. If you don't like it, I'll do my best to make it up to you in the next chapter though, and again, I am sorry I have been gone. Back now! :)

Chapter 2

Neal-

Neal stared in Peter's direction, his blue eyes narrowed as he tried to see how bad his friend was hurt. He couldn't really tell from the lighting, but he had a feeling that his partner had gotten beaten pretty bad.

"Peter..." Neal groaned, struggling to sit up, and then finally managing it, though he was wincing from the pain it caused.

"Neal? Neal, are you ok?" Peter sounded worried, which caused a faint touch of amusement running through Neal. Peter got the living crap beaten out of him, and he was worried about Neal. Why Neal found that funny, he had no idea, he just..did.

"I'm fine Peter. Question is, are you ok?"

"Neal, you were just stabbed, and you ask me if I'm ok...there is something wrong with you."

"Thought that was already established. You never answered my question."

"I'm fine." Peter said after a long moments pause, but it was obvious that his words were a lie. Or...it was to Neal.

"Peter. Don't lie. You suck at lying. I can tell you are lying."

"Because you lie for a living?"

There was a stony silence for a few minutes before Neal finally spoke. "Because I know you."

Neal watched Peter shift slightly, as if uncomfortable, and he had the feeling that Peter was going to say something, but at that instant, the door flew open again. Marcus had returned. Neal glared at the con man as he walked over, but paled when he saw what was in the con man's hand.

A glass syringe. With...whatever the heck that odd yellow liquid was in it, filled it halfway.

Crap. He thought as Marcus bent down next to Neal. Neal refused to let any emotions show on his face as he glared at Marcus. Neal couldn't help but flinch as DeMyers brought the syringe level with the ex-con's arm, though he tried to hide the fact that he flinched.

Marcus had noticed though, and the con let out a laugh.

"Scared, Caffrey? Well, I don't know why...I mean, it's just a syringe filled with ricin, the third most deadliest poison there is." DeMyers said, grinning the entire time. "However, this, is not for you. I wanted to see your reaction seeing it, and I was amused, but this is for your friend."

Neal's blue eyes went wide in shock, and terror for Peter. "No!" He burst out, straining towards Marcus as the con got up. "No!" He repeated, loud despite the fact was in pain. He didn't care. He didn't want Peter hurt. "Don't give it to him! I'll...I'll take it. I'll take it for him!"

Peter struggled against his bonds as he heard Neal.

"Shut up Neal!" The FBI Agent snapped, though Neal didn't care. He kept his attention fixed on Marcus, who threw his head back and laughed.

"No, no, no Caffrey. This isn't for you. This is for your partner." Marcus insisted. Neal's eyes widened as Marcus started towards Peter.

NO! He screamed in his head, thrashing against his own bonds. He felt dim surprise as he got his legs free, a moment later, his hands came free too, and he swung one leg around, pressing himself flat against the ground so he could stretch as far as possible, and managed to hook his leg around DeMyers' leg, causing the con to trip.

The syringe flew from Marcus' hand and shattered against the wall.

Marcus let out an inhuman sounding snarl as he hit the floor, but the con didn't stay down for long. Within moments, he was back on his feet, and the next thing Neal knew, he was being yanked up from the floor and slammed against another wall.

He let out a sharp gasp of pain as his head collided with the wall, but that didn't last for long because then pain blossomed in his ribs as he heard a sharp crack! He dimly heard Peter saying something to Marcus in what sounded like a very very angry voice, because his vision went black for a few seconds. And then he could hear and see again...correctly.

"Well, Caffrey, you broke Peter's dose, and since you want it so badly, I'm going to give you your wish." DeMyers' voice was a snarl. Neal cringed as Marcus pulled out yet another syringe, though this was one was filled entirely.

And then Neal did something he knew he shouldn't have.

He gave a small laugh. "Not like you wouldn't have given it to me anyway. Don't try to make me think you wouldn't have, I'm not the idiot here, you are."

He knew he had just messed up any chances he had of not getting injected, of changing the con's mind, and hearing Peter groan, Neal knew that Peter realized that too.

And then the needle from the syringe was plunged into his arm, and Neal was forced to hold back a whimper because of the pain it caused. He could only watch dully as the yellow liquid-like stuff was injected to him and Marcus step back with a dark smile on his face.

For a moment...nothing happened, but within minutes, Neal had slumped to the ground with a groan. He felt horrible, like he was going to be sick.

Marcus just laughed and walked away, taunting Peter by making sure he took his time to walk slowly passed the furious FBI Agent, who was struggling to break free of his bonds to attack Marcus. But Peter didn't get free, couldn't get free, and Marcus snickered before he left.

"Neal! You idiot! What the hell were you thinking?" Peter yelled, once Marcus was gone. Silence greeted him. "Neal? Neal? Neal answer me!"

But there was no answer. Neal was unconscious.

Peter-

Peter twisted around to try to find where Neal was. How the ex-con had gotten out of his bonds, Peter had no idea. He was tied tight, and he had the feeling that Neal had been tied tight as well, but then again, Neal was excellent at escaping things.

Scanning the shadows, Peter saw Neal laying there, looking dead as he lay on the floor, face down.

"Neal!" He screamed, wishing he could get free so he could help his partner. With a disgusted sigh, Peter wrenched at his bonds, his eyes widening as he felt them loosen a bit. Again he pulled, and again, and again, and after a few more pulls, Peter could get his hands free.

Quick as a flash, he undid the rest of his bindings, wincing as he felt the blood begin to circulate in his wrists and ankles again, but that didn't matter, because then Peter was rushing to his fallen comrade.

"Neal? Come on, Neal, answer me." Peter said, fear in his voice as he flipped his partner over. He cursed as he felt for Neal's pulse, thinking that none was there for a moment.

And then Peter felt it. The ex-con's pulse. It was faint, weak, and as Peter held his hand in the spot where he had managed to find the pulse, it faltered.

"Don't you dare think about dying on me Neal!" Peter growled, though he didn't see what he could do to help his friend.

I'll do whatever it takes to keep you alive Neal. I swear to God, we'll will make it through this...together.

Peter didn't know how long he sat there, making sure Neal stayed alive, by giving him CPR when Neal's pulse stopped. He didn't know how many times he had felt terror course through him when such things happened. He didn't know why Marcus hadn't come back yet. He didn't know much of anything concerning that.

He did know that he had to do what he could to keep Neal alive though, and he did. He did know the terror, and then relief he felt when the door to the chamber in which he and Neal were in, flew open to reveal the FBI and paramedics. He knew that Neal was taken to the hospital, that Neal had been, and still was almost dead.

And he knew that he wished Neal had never tried to talk Marcus out of giving him the ricin dosage. That he hadn't offered to take Peter's place, and that he had tripped Marcus when Marcus said 'no'. That he hadn't pissed Marcus off.

Peter just wished that Neal hadn't been hurt.