This is another unbeta'ed chapter so all mistakes are mine.

Neal felt that he was slowly losing hold of his sanity. The waiting, pain and humiliation was too much for him. He wasn't going to last very many more hours; Physically or emotionally.

At this point he wished that he could just pass out for the two hours of waiting, and definitely for what comes after that. But it seems that sleep was being an elusive mistress to him.

This whole thing had to be some sick nightmare anyway. All he had to do was fall asleep and he would wake up. That's how it works in movies, right? He couldn't remember. He just couldn't succumb to the sweet, painless oblivion.

Wait, they did something different in Inception. That could work. He really wanted to wake up, but he really didn't want to try pushing his chair over to feel the sense of falling in case in this was reality. That would undoubtedly hurt when he hit the ground. Leonardo DiCaprio didn't seem that smart I'm that movie anyway.

He knew he smelt bread earlier, but Keller didn't seem to be worried that he said anything as he hasn't bothered to move him yet.

He wasn't allowing himself to think of his finger. Broken bones heal. Keller probably didn't cause any permanent damage. His finger was going to be fine, right? He wished he had that answer. 'Damn-it, stop thinking about that, Caffery,' he told himself, possibly out loud.

If he stared at the timer much longer he was probably going to go cross-eyed. But he just couldn't take his eyes away from it. It seemed far too long far too short at the same time. It told him, down to the second, when more pain would be brought upon him, and that was terrifying.

WCWCWCWC

After meeting Mozzie at a park of his choosing -surprisingly not in his usual paranoid manner- and quickly catching him up on what has been happening while he was off the radar, Mozzie, not as reluctantly as last time, came to the bureau to help.

Mozzie refused to admit to knowing anything about the treasure, but helped in another way. He already started his own man-hunt and had linked Keller to an offshore account that was owned by someone named Joe Montana (not the football player). He's known on the streets as the go-to guy if you need a safe-house. He usually picks unsuspecting places that no one would bat an eyelash at.

Montana would buy the place and then rent it to someone in need of a place to lay low or to conduct illicit activities. One of Mozzie's contacts said that Montana recently rented out an old bread making factory to someone that matched Keller's description.

It was enough to get a warrant so Peter, Diana, Jones and a SWAT team quickly made their way there. But if Neal wasn't there, Peter would threaten Mozzie with everything from obstruction of justice to accessory to a murder that Peter hoped wouldn't end up happening unless he told him where the treasure was.

They arrived with an hour and four minutes left. SWAT went in first, closely followed by the three agents.

When Peter caught sight of Keller the only thing he was thinking was his hands around the bastards neck. Unfortunately he didn't resist so Peter didn't get to strangle him.

"Where is he?!" Peter demanded and Jones took a few steps closer to put himself in a position to intervene if needed.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Agent Burke," Keller said, but the look on his face said otherwise.

Peter didn't trust himself with Keller, so two SWAT team members took him out to one of the waiting SUV's while everyone else continued to search the long-abandoned factory.

In the basement there was a long hallway with six doors, but only one of them were metal. Peter went straight for it. Two swings from the battering ram got the door open and Peter rushed in.

There he was, looking right at them and smiling like he was witnessing a miracle. A tear rolled down his face and Peter didn't know if it was one of relief or lingering fear. "Peter," he said hoarsely.

After seeing Neal was there, Diana radioed the waiting ambulance to get ready to come in the building, while Jones and the SWAT team left to finish searching the rest of the factory.

Peter approached Neal and crouched in front of him.

Even though the quality of the video that showed the battered body of his CI was good, it was shocking to see the amount of damage done to him in person. It also made it all the more real somehow.

Peter didn't know if he should touch Neal. It's like there wasn't a place on his body where it wouldn't hurt to touch.

"Knew you'd find me," Neal said.

"What does this make me? Four-and-oh?" Peter asked.

"No way," Neal said and shook his head but stopped with a wince.

"You ok?" Peter asked but immediately wanted to kick himself for saying something so stupid. Of course he wasn't ok. "What can I do?" He asked before Neal could try to come up with something witty to say.

"Untie me?" He said, like it was a request and not stating the obvious.

Of course. Why didn't he think of that? "Yeah, ok." Peter went around to the back of the chair and couldn't help but wince.

Neal's hands were a mess; All of the fingernails on his left hand were on the ground in a small pool of blood and his left thumb and right index finger were bent at an odd angle. He tried to ignore the blood that covered the wire and tried to find a way to get it off. Peter could see that it was deeply imbedded into Neal's skin.

"Can you get it off?" Neal asked as he tried to turn a little in the chair to see Peter.

"Uh," Peter responded stupidly. He didn't think he could get the wire off without causing more damage. "I think we're going to need some wire cutters."

Neal swallowed hard. "Keller had some pliers. He left them on that table I think." He nodded his head to a table that had a timer on it that said that there were forty-seven minutes left.

Peter walked over to the table and looked for the pliers that Keller used. They were on the table like Neal said they were. He came back and pulled out a pocket knife from his pocket.

"Always be prepared," Neal said when he saw what Peter had.

"Wire cutters would have been better, but you do what you gotta do," Peter said and he saw that a chill run down Neal's frame for some reason.

"Sorry," Peter said when Neal gasped when he tried to move the wire with the pliers. "Maybe we should wait until we have some cutters."

"Please," Neal almost begged. "I need out of this chair," he said quietly.

Peter couldn't see his face and was thankful for that so he didn't have to see the desperation in Neal's voice reflected in his eyes.

Peter nodded then stopped himself when he realized Neal couldn't see him. "Yeah, I'll try," he said and used the pliers to pull the wire away from Neal's wrists again. Then he stuck the knife under the wire and started cutting them. They weren't that thick so it didn't take that long, but seemed like it to Peter whenever Neal flinched or made a sound.

"Ok, got it," Peter said when he unwrapped the wire all the way.

Neal slowly moved his arms around to his lap, but didn't look at them and sighed in obvious relief.

Peter went around to stand in front of Neal. "Can you stand?" Peter asked. Neal seemed, well, not great, but if he wanted out of the chair he was going to have to stand.

"Ummm," Neal said and looked at his foot. "Keller stabbed my foot," he said, looking a little shameful.

"Really? I didn't see..." Peter started but stopped when Neal looked up sharply.

Neal looked over to the camera then back over to Peter. "He was telling the truth," he said. It didn't seem like an question, more like a statement, but Peter nodded anyway. "I was kinda hoping he was lying," he whispered.

"We'll wait for the paramedics then," Peter said. It was probably best. He couldn't leave the room because of the ankle cuff anyway.

Neal seemed to accept that he had to wait, but didn't look happy about staying in that chair any longer. "Is Keller..?" Neal asked. "Did you get him?"

"He surrendered and we arrested him. He's not going to hurt you anymore," Peter assured Neal.

Neal nodded and Peter noticed that he was shivering. It made sense; the room was chilly and he wasn't even wearing a shirt.

Peter took off his jacket and gently draped it over the smaller mans shoulders. Neal pulled it closed and clutched it like it was a lifeline. He looked so young and vulnerable with his head down, his hair in his eyes and Peter's jacket on his lithe frame.

Peter put his hand on Neal's shoulder to try to comfort him. Peter could feel him tense for a second, then relax under the touch and lean towards him a little, probably without even knowing it.

Both men were quiet while they waited. Peter was because he didn't know what to say to help, and Neal stayed quiet probably because he was in shock.

A few minutes later two paramedics came into the small room. Peter could see and feel Neal stiffen and he leaned into him until it was almost painful.

"It's ok, Neal," Peter said, "they're here to help."

Neal looked up at Peter, his eyes searching his face for something. Possibly the answers of the universe judging by how intensely he was staring. He finally looked to the paramedics nodded for them to come in and cut off the cuff and take him away to the hospital.

And Neal was saved! It's about time! The story is not over though. We still need some comfort to even out all the hurt! (And maybe some more hurt. ;-))