Hey! So this chapter is longer, hooray! Thank you guys for reading! I'm hoping that the characters are in character, but if you feel like they aren't, remember that I take constructive feedback. Anything that is just flames will be ignored.
Again, I have no ownership whatsoever over these wonderful characters :( No one wants to accept a college student's offer for some reason...
Let me know what you think!
Pain. That was the only word that was going through Neal's mind as he slowly came back to the land of the living. He coughed, having involuntarily inhaled some dust. He was lying on his stomach, and he could tell that his face was covered with grime and dirt. He moved slowly, aware that he needed to be cautious as he sat up just in case he had any serious injuries. His head felt like there was a marching band drummer playing in his head; he also felt something warm and sticky making it's way down his scalp and face. His shoulder was hurting, but other than those few things, he seemed to be okay.
He tried remembering what had happened. He had been walking through the building when Mozzie called, telling him he had walked right into a trap. He remembered hearing a deafening boom, the walls crumbling around him, and the floor falling out from under him. Suddenly he remembered that he hadn't come alone.
"John?" Neal called out softly, moving away from where he had woken up, trying to find his way around the wreckage in the dark building. "John?" he tried again, his voice a little louder this time.
A cough and a groan coming from behind him had Neal spinning around faster than he should have, and he had to close his eyes and hold his hands out, trying to find anything to brace himself against for the duration of his dizzy spell. Once the spinning had passed, he moved slower towards the last place he had heard the groan from. Moving aside some of the loose rubble, he spotted a large chunk of cement. He saw John lying on the ground, his leg pinned underneath the massive piece of wall.
John coughed again, then slowly opened his eyes, glancing around him as he tried to take in everything. He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in his leg strongly argued against that course of action. He glanced down and saw a massive chunk of cement sitting on his leg, pinning him down and preventing him from moving.
"John?" Neal asked as he got knelt down. Reese looked at the con man, noticing a scratch on his head that was sluggishly bleeding. He also seemed to be favoring his left shoulder, but John could see no other visible injuries, and he was grateful for that.
"Neal, I need you to do something," John requested in a husky voice.
"Sure, what can I do?" Neal asked. He felt terrible that John had gotten hurt because he was with Neal, especially after he had saved Peter's and his lives last night.
"I need you to find something strong enough to wedge under this slab for leverage so that I can get out from under here," John explained. Neal nodded in understanding while getting up and glancing around. "Anything should work," John continued. "A metal pipe, a piece of rebar, anything solid enough to-" He was cut off by a coughing fit, but Neal knew what he was asking for.
"I'll be right back," he promised. He stood and walked away, scrounging around for anything that might be able to help him. He picked up several items and tested their weight in his hands, finally deciding on a metal pipe that he felt would be strong enough to give enough leverage. He hurried back to John and shoved the pipe under the slab of cement.
"Okay," John said, panting slightly. "Lift up on it for as long and as hard as you can. It should only take a few seconds for me to roll out from under here, and once I do you can let go. Are you ready?" John waited for Neal's affirmative nod and got ready to move. "Alright...now."
Neal pushed on the bar, grunting at the exertion and force it took but finally the chunk of cement was lifted off Reese's leg. John rolled away and Neal let go of the bar, his arms shaking and shoulder aching.
John tried pushing himself up, but his leg protested painfully and he had to gently lower himself back to the ground. Neal dropped the pipe and hurried over to John. The older man leaned back against a sturdy-looking piece of rubble, looking down at his left leg. He reached down and rolled his pant leg up, hissing slightly in pain as the motion jostled his ankle.
John and Neal stared at the swollen and discolored limb. Both of them knew it was severely sprained, if not broken. "What can I do?" Neal asked.
"Help me up," John replied, starting to push himself up again. Neal's eyes went wide.
"Whoa, shouldn't you try to keep that elevated or something? Not put any weight on it?"
John shook his head. "We need to find a way out of here," he explained, gingerly putting his foot on the ground to test how much weight it could withstand. He grimaced slightly and Neal hurried to his side.
"Here, if you're going to insist on getting up, let me help you," he stated firmly. John finally relented and put his arm across the young man's shoulders, and the two of them slowly made their way through the wreckage.
0-0-0
Finch's phone rang and he looked at the screen. It was a number he didn't recognize, and he debated whether to pick it up or not. He finally hit the accept button. "Hello?"
"I'm assuming you're who the man in the suit was talking to?" a voice asked.
"Who is this? How did you get this number?" Finch asked, worry for John spiking. "What happened to John?"
"I'm a friend of Neal Caffrey's," the voice. "Just call me Mozzie," he added. "As for how I got this number, let's just say I'm good at finding and acquiring things, especially when it comes to technology."
"Where is John?" Finch asked again when the other man stopped talking.
"I was hoping you could tell me," Mozzie replied. "I was on the phone with Neal and suddenly our call was disconnected, but before we were cut off I heard a massive boom. Neal said something about Peter being captured; I'm assuming you know who Peter is?"
Finch wasn't sure if he could trust this guy, but he had been trying to get ahold of John since this 'Mozzie' had called, and the ex-agent wasn't answering. He had a bad feeling, and he decided to trust this guy for the time being. "Yes I know who Peter is. John called and told me Agent Burke had been captured and that Neal had twenty minutes to-"
"To get to an address and save Peter?" Mozzie interrupted, finishing Harold's explanation. "Yeah, Neal told me the same thing right before the line went dead. But the thing is, Peter was attacked outside the federal office building. He's in critical care at the hospital right now, so there's no way that the man, whom I'm assuming was Delooney, was telling the truth."
Finch's heart dropped into his stomach. "Could you hold on for one moment?" Without waiting for an answer, he put Mozzie on hold, dialing another number.
"Finch," Detective Carter's stressed voice came on the other line. "You need to make this quick, it's crazy over here."
"I just have a quick question for you, Detective," Finch assured her, trying to keep the stress and worry out of his own voice. "Have there been any reports of anything loud or explosive happening at this address?" He quickly repeated the address where John and Neal were last heard from.
"Harold," Carter said after he finished telling her the address. "We just got word of a bombing at that address." When Harold didn't answer, she spoke again. "How did you know?" She still received no answer, and the she got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Harold, where is John?"
"I'm sorry Detective, I have to go," Finch said quickly, disconnecting the call with the confused and now concerned detective. He got back on the phone with Mozzie. "Mr. Mozzie?"
"Please don't add 'Mr.' to the front of my name," Mozzie begged. "What did you find out?"
"We have a problem," Finch replied gravely.
0-0-0
"Cover your mouth and nose with your shirt," John told Neal, doing the same with his own undershirt as best he could. "We need to avoid breathing in the dust as much as possible."
Neal did as he was told, breathing into his suitcoat while looking around for anything that could help them get out of here. He looked back at John when he heard a ripping noise. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly muffled under the suitcoat. John was currently ripping the bottom of his dress shirt into strips.
"I need to brace my ankle so I can move around a little more," John explained as he grabbed two pieces of rebar lying close to him, putting them on either side of his ankle. Neal crouched down and helped John secure the cloth strips around the makeshift splint.
"What do we do now?" Neal asked, panting slightly. He wasn't sure, but it felt like it was getting slightly harder to breathe.
"We need to try and conserve oxygen," John said, noticing Neal's labored breathing. "First responders should already be here, we just need to let them know where we are." He grabbed two more pieces of rebar, tossing one to Neal and keeping one for himself. "Find something to hit this against," he instructed. "Don't hit too hard, otherwise it could cause objects to shift and collapse again." John started banging on objects nearby just hard enough to be heard, and Neal followed suit.
There you go!