This is the last chapter in this story. I hate to see it end, but I enjoyed writing every sentence, and I definitely loved knowing that people liked reading my story. Before writing these stories, I only wrote three essays ever. That's the extent of my writing experience, so I was surprised to hear people actually liking what I wrote. Thank you guys for your support!

19 chapters, 34,379 words, 154 reviews, over 14,500 views, 57 followers and 18 favorites. This story surpassed my last one by a lot more than I thought it would. Thank you guys, for everything!

Neal wasn't sure where he was this time. It was completely dark save for a light that was hanging on the ceiling right above him. He was sitting in a chair and his wrists were tied to the armrests with thin but strong rope. When was this hell going to be over?

He heard footsteps echoing in the distance. They were getting louder, closer. Neal just knew it was Keller that was out there in the darkness somewhere. He pulled on the rope that was binding him, but it wouldn't give.

Neal's heart-rate picked up when Keller walked into the circle of light around him. He almost let out a whimper, but held it in. He wasn't going to give Keller the satisfaction of knowing that his presence terrified him.

"Caffrey!" Keller said cheerfully. He was holding a branding iron that had a backwards M and K on the tip of it. When Neal saw it, he started to pull at his bonds again, but they wouldn't come loose.

"There's no point in struggling, Caffrey," Keller said. "You can't save yourself, and Burke sure as hell won't come and save you. You're a sorry excuse for a conman and he knows it. He doesn't need you, and he definitely doesn't want you."

Neal tried to say something, but realized there was a rag tied around his head and in his mouth.

Keller smiled and swung the branding iron carelessly in his hands. "You talked too much last time, so I decided to shut you up for a little while."

Neal could do nothing but glare at Keller and hope the fear he felt inside wasn't showing too badly in his eyes.

Keller walked back and forth in front of Neal for a minute, then stopped in front of him. "Where should we put this?" he asked as he looked Neal's body up and down. "Hand? Chest? Back? Neck?" His eyes and smiled became predatory. "Somewhere else?"

Neal swallowed hard around the gag. He looked back down at his wrists to see if he could find a weak point in the rope, but saw nothing that could help him. He was trapped.

Keller pulled a lighter out of his pocket and sparked the fire to life. He put the M and K over the flame to heat it. "If I put on your neck or hand, you wouldn't be able to hide it as well," he said. "What do you think of that, Caffrey?"

Neal made a muffled sound of protest and shook his head fearfully.

Keller shrugged. "Doesn't matter what you think anyway." He leaned in close and whispered slowly in Neal's ear. "I can do whatever I want to you, and no one will come, no one will hear the screams."

A chill ran down Neal's spine and his breathing increased. He tried to pull away, but couldn't move very far.

Keller stood up straight and went back to heating his initials. The letters turned bright red after a few moments. Once the tip was heated enough, Keller hooked a finger under the gag and roughly pulled it down so it hung around Neal's neck. "I want to be able to hear you scream," he said, an evil glint in his eyes.

Neal knew what was coming next, but he couldn't stop it. Keller pressed the branding iron against the back of Neal's right hand and Neal didn't bother holding back a cry of agonizing pain and anguish.

WCWCWCWC

A bloodcurdling scream woke Peter in an instant. Peter was out of bed and down the hallway before he even knew what he was doing. He barely even noticed he brought his gun with him this time.

Neal didn't scream or make any noise last night, but the ever-darkening shadows under his eyes the next morning suggested that he didn't get much shut-eye.

He had no idea if it was just another nightmare, but when he made it to the door of the guest bedroom he let his training kick in. Gun at the ready, he swiftly opened the door and looked for any threats.

But the only threat was in Neal's mind. He was lying on his back in the bed, tangled up in the blankets. His hands were tightly gripping the blankets and he was breathing hard, every muscle in his body tense.

"Neal?" Peter said as he approached the panicked young man. He put his gun down on the nightstand next to the bed and turned on the lamp.

The only response Neal gave was a small whimper, so Peter put a hand on the younger man's shoulder a shook him a little. "Neal, it's only a dream. Wake up."

Neal jolted awake, then flinched away from Peter when he saw him, a look a terror on his face. His chest was heaving and he was covered in sweat, making his hair and shirt stick to his skin.

Peter put his hands up in a placating gesture. "It's me, Neal. It's Peter."

There was recognition in Neal's bright blue eyes faster than Peter expected. "Peter," he said, sounding mostly relived, but he still looked afraid. He looked around the room fearfully, like he expected someone else to be there. "Where's K-Keller?"

Peter sat down on the edge of the bed. "Keller's not here, Neal. He never was," he said soothingly.

"He-he was here. H-he..." Neal stuttered, then looked at the back of his right hand. He seemed confused about what he saw, or didn't see, as it were. He then looked at his left hand. That didn't seem to help his confusion. He looked up to Peter for answers. "He...he did, I know he did."

"What do you think he did, Neal?" Peter asked softly.

Neal looked down at his hands again. "He br-branded me," he whimpered, letting out a small sob.

It was scary for Peter to hear how imaginative Neal's mind could be when making up night terrors. Peter gently took Neal's hands into his own. "Do you see anything, Neal?" He asked, not unkindly.

Neal looked at his hands for a moment, then shook his head.

"Do you feel anything?"

Neal looked into Peter's eyes for a long moment, then shook his head.

"Don't you think you'd be able to see or feel something if you really were hurt?"

"But I saw him do it. I felt it too, just not anymore," Neal said, but looked less convinced.

"It was a nightmare, Neal," Peter said, slowly and clearly.

Neal stared at Peter for a long moment, then nodded. "Just a nightmare," he murmured as he looked at his hands again.

Peter nodded and put a comforting hand on Neal's shoulder for a moment. Neal sat back against the headboard.

"Do you want me to go?" Peter asked. The last time Peter woke Neal from a nightmare he didn't seem to want any company.

Neal's head shot up. "No!" He blurted out, but then he must have realized he just showed some sort of weakness and said, "I mean, you can stay if you want," but his eyes said 'please don't leave me alone.'

"Ok, I'll stay," Peter said easily, then moved to sit against the headboard next to Neal. It was a queen size bed so there was enough room for both men to sit next to each other and not touch.

Elizabeth had yet to come in to see what was going on, but Peter knew a bomb could go off next door and she would sleep right through it, so she probably didn't even hear Neal's cries of terror.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Peter asked after a minute.

Neal silently shook his head while looking straight ahead, a haunted look it his eyes. Peter figured the nightmare was still going through his head, whether he wanted it to or not.

As insensitive as it sounds, Peter really hoped Neal wouldn't start crying. If women crying was bad, Peter didn't know what to call men crying. Extremely uncomfortable, maybe. It was just so hard to deal with - It couldn't be fixed with a slug on the shoulder and a cowboy up.

Regardless of what it's called or how to fix it, Peter didn't want to be in that situation, but he would stay if Neal wanted him to.

Peter looked back over to see if he could see tears in Neal's eyes, but what he actually saw was almost as concerning; he was smiling.

It wasn't a happy smile - more like a bitter one. "Even though he's locked up in prison, he's still haunting me," Neal said hollowly.

Peter didn't need to ask who Neal was talking about. There was only one man Peter knew that had ever made Neal so terrified of closing his eyes.

"Hey, you beat him," Peter said. "He's in jail and you're free - well, freer."

That got a real smile out of Neal, albeit small one.

"Do you want to talk to someone? Me, or maybe a professional?" Peter asked as casually as he could.

Neal gave him a curious look. "A shrink? Thanks, but no," he said.

"Why not? I really think it could help. And it's not something to be embarrassed or ashamed of, Neal. Plenty of people see someone after going through a traumatic event."

Neal was silent for a few moments. "Peter," he said, "do you remember what happened when I was giving my statement?"

How could he forget? It scared the crap out of him to see Neal gasping for breath with a panicked look on his face. Even though he knew in the back of his mind what was really happening, he still thought Neal was in serious trouble. But they got through it, thank goodness.

"Yeah," Peter said, knowing exactly what point Neal was trying to make.

"I really don't want a repeat of that," Neal said, a small shiver going down his spine.

"But don't you think that if you keep all of it locked up inside, it'll eat at you?" The words 'even more' were left unsaid, but both men were thinking it.

"I'll get through it, I always do," Neal said vaguely, but Peter guessed that he was referring to Kate's death, and and probably far too many other tragedies the young man had gone through in his life.

Peter didn't know what to say to that, so he just put a hopefully comforting hand on Neal's shoulder. Neal relaxed under the touch and leaned toward Peter slightly.

"How about I sleep in here tonight?" Peter asked. It wasn't a thing Peter wouldn't normally do, but it just felt so... right.

Neal looked unsure. "Really, Peter? Are you sure about that?"

Peter shrugged. "Yeah, why not? I wouldn't want to wake Elizabeth up by going back in there anyway." Neal didn't need to know that she slept like a rock. One little white lie here and there never hurt anyone.

"As long as you don't snore," Neal said as he scooted down the bed so he was lying down under the blanket.

Peter smiled. "Of course I don't snore." Peter got under the blankets as well.

"Ok, but if you wake me, I'm kicking you out," Neal warned.

"This is my house, so you can't kick me out. I can kick you out if I want to," Peter said.

"You'd never kick me out, Peter. I'm too much fun," Neal said, a sleepy smile on his face. "Imagine how boring your night would be if you told me to go home."

"A full nights sleep, how boring," Peter said dryly. He turned off the lamp and the room was plunged into darkness save for the streetlights that shone through the window.

"Night," Neal said sleepily.

"Night," Peter said, then closed his eyes.

The young man that was lying next to Peter had been through hell and back and all he wanted - needed - now was someone to be there for him. And Peter was that someone, whether either man knew it or not.

For the first time since he was rescued, Neal slept soundly through the night, knowing Peter wound never let Keller hurt him ever again.

There were still demons hiding in the dark recesses of Neal's mind, but between Peter's steady support and Neal's strength and determination, they would be able to face them, together.

The End.

Now I have something important for you guys to do: help me choose my next story. All of the stories are partly written, but I want to know what you guys want to see so I get motivated to write it. Please bare with me and read the long paragraph below.

I have a story about Neal being Cleithrophobic (no, not claustrophobic. Look it up); one about Ruiz being the one that is Neal's handler in the beginning, but Peter and him end up meeting anyway when they go undercover together; a teen Neal one where Neal runs away from home and an abusive father and to New York where he lives on the streets; one where Neal is held captive for two months before Peter finds him - lots of emotional damage there; one where Neal is drugged somehow and pulls a gun on Peter; one where Neal goes undercover in a prison as a prisoner and Peter goes in as well, but as a guard; one where Neal and Peter are on a plane and there are bad guys that are planning on hijacking the plane, but Neal gets in the way and is shot; one where Neal is kidnapped and escapes and goes to the Burkes for safety during a bad storm; one where Neal is stabbed in a op gone wrong; one where Neal calls Peter in the middle of the night to tell him that someone broke in and he had to stab him; one where Neal and Mozzie are kidnapped and while Mozzie is there to decode documents in a foreign language, Neal is there for 'motivation'; one where Neal is framed for stealing evidence, but instead of putting him in jail, Peter just hands him over to Ruiz in Organized Crime, but Ruiz does not like criminals. That one is pretty angsty; one where Neal and Peter are in a car crash during a rain storm and Neal is hurt. There's no reception so Peter has to figure out how to save his partner before it's too late.

With all of these stories, there is a theme: Neal is hurt somehow. It's just what I like to read and what I like to write. One way or another, Neal will get hurt, I can guarantee you that.

Your reviews made me smile! :-)