Six hours remain.

Diana and Jones were sitting on the opposite wall facing Peter and Neal. They talked quietly about strategies and plans to come up with the correct antidote. They had come up with several things that all led to an outcome they couldn't face. To them, losing Neal was worse than losing their own life. Not only would they grieve over the loss of a dear friend but they would have to sit by and watch Peter, their boss, a father figure to them both, grieve over the loss of his partner, his best friend, his little brother and occasionally his son. Though they would never mention such titles to Peter, Diana and Jones knew that is how Peter saw Neal. They witnessed it day in and day out. They noticed the way Peter held his breath when someone told him Neal was in trouble or had cut his anklet. They observed the way he rubbed his hand across his face when he was frustrated with the younger man as if it would diminish or at least mask his true protective feelings for him. All of which made them want to find a way to fix this. If not for the conman himself, but for their boss, to save him from a life without his consultant, a life they couldn't imagine he could lead.

Peter sat beside Neal. For a split second he thought that he himself had been poisoned as he felt his stomach twist and churn but quickly realized that poison was not behind the irritation in his stomach but that his worry for the man sitting beside him was. He could hear Diana and Jones talking quietly. Though he could only make out certain words of their conversation, he knew they were trying to come up with a solution. He just hoped that Neal couldn't hear them. He didn't want the sick conman to worry about anything. He just wanted him to relax and stay calm. He turned his head to look at his partner. It didn't take much because Neal's head was resting lightly on his shoulder. Neal did have his head leaned back against the wall but when he succumbed to sleep a few minutes ago his head rolled until the top of it landed on Peter's right shoulder. On any other occasion, Peter would have pushed Neal off of him and rolled his eyes, but not now. Not when Neal was slowly dying beside him. He closed his eyes against the thought hoping it was all a dream but reality dealt a low blow when he opened his eyes again to reveal the old, dirty basement and a sick conman beside him. His mind started to wonder over thoughts about how to get out of here but a cold, clammy hand grabbed the material of his right pant leg on his thigh in a tight fist and seized his attention. Neal rolled his head against Peter's shoulder bone as his body shuddered with spasms and a pained moan escaped his lips.

"Neal?" Peter asked cautiously. Neal didn't respond. He just tightened his grip on the material of Peter's pants. When the agent felt Neal's grip slacken he tried again.

"Hey, you okay Bud?" He asked softly. Neal took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before answering.

"Y-yeah." Neal unhurriedly lifted his throbbing head from the older man's shoulders. Unable to hold it up he let it fall back until it hit the wall. His body arched as another muscle spasm hit. He couldn't stop the cry that escaped his lips or the two teardrops that rolled down his cheek.

At that, Diana and Jones stopped their conversation and turned their attention to Peter and Neal but remained where they were.

If it was possible for a man's heart to actually break, Peter would know exactly what it felt like for it to shatter. In that moment, when Neal cried out, Peter wanted nothing more than to switch places with him and completely tear into the man responsible for this.

"Easy, easy. It's alright. Just breathe." Peter coaxed gently. When Neal seemed to relax and reluctantly let his hand drop from his hold on the material of the agent's pants, Peter asked, "Are you ok? What's wrong?" He knew it was a dense thing to ask but he wanted to ease the kid's misery in anyway possible.

"N-nothing….. it's f-fine….I'm fine." Neal tried to sound nonchalantly but failed miserably.

"Neal, listen to me. I know you don't feel well. You don't have to act like this is nothing. Just tell me what's wrong. Maybe we can do something to help until we figure out the antidote situation, alright?" Peter reasoned. Neal looked up at Peter with a doubtful expression.

"Come on, work with me kiddo. I know I'm not a doctor, but I'm sure there's something I can do." Peter tried to negotiate.

Neal saw determination flash in the agent's eyes and felt gratitude swell in his own heart.

"It's…j-just muscle….spasms." Neal stated as his eyes started to droop. He rubbed a weak hand at his eyes, trying to stay awake.

Peter wracked his brain for an idea on how to ease the muscle spasms but nothing came. He noticed Neal trying to stay awake.

"Neal…. Buddy…. Hey listen, why don't you lay down and go to sleep, okay?" Peter said as he gently tapped the side of Neal's face.

Neal was too tired to protest and let Peter guide him until he was lying down. He was slightly embarrassed as his head laid in Peter's lap, but exhaustion made it impossible for him to move and Peter didn't seem to mind. He felt his muscles spasm one more time and once again gripped Peter's pant leg in his hand and squeezed as the pain rolled through him. He felt Peter's calloused hand run through his hair somewhat awkwardly but soothing before giving into sleep.

Peter exhaled loudly and turned his attention to Diana and Jones as the duo made there way quietly across the room. Once they were sitting in front of him Peter said, "We have to do something." He fingered a few locks of Neal's black hair before continuing. "Did you guys come up with something?"

Diana and Jones shared a look. Jones spoke up. "We did. It is risky, but it's all we have." Jones sighed warily. Peter looked at his agents. "Well let's hear it."

"What if we slowly give Neal each of the syringes? We pick one to start with. Give him just a few drops, just enough to effect him in some way. If he gets worse, we move on to another one, if he gets better…. Hopefully that will mean it's the antidote and we give him the whole thing." Diana explained.

Peter thought it over for a moment. "We have a four in five chance that the first one we inject him with will be poison, which means he will get worse. And the more poison he is subjected to, the more of the antidote he will need. It won't work." Peter shook his head and his fingers ran through Neal's sweat dampened hair. Jones sighed before picking up where Diana left off.

"Yes, we are aware of that, which is why we have to find a way to get out of here fast. The antidote will buy us more time. We figured if we could get out of here we could get him to a hospital in time…. I mean we could just run against the time we have left which is about….." Jones looked at his watch. "five hours and twenty-seven minutes and hope that we find a way out in time. But we thought that if we gave him the antidote now, we get extra time to find a way out of here and get him to a hospital. If we just administer a few drops from each syringe, it wouldn't be that much poison and the antidote clears most of it up and he is only left with a small amount in him. Agent Burke, I know it's risky, but it's all we have. "Jones stated sadly. Diana and Jones waited for Peter to respond.

Peter looked down at the conman who was sleeping. He hated this plan. He knew pumping more poison into Neal was a terrible idea. It would only make him worse at first. But if Jones was right, the antidote would buy more time and hopefully clear most of the deadly fluid up. It was all they had. It was either that, or watch as Neal took his last breath in five hours and some odd minutes and Peter couldn't bear the thought. Peter did the only thing he could do. He nodded his head indicating he agreed.

"Alright. I'll find a way out." Jones stood and went in the next room to begin his difficult task. He knew that it was going to be hard to figure out a way to get out but it was a lot better than watching Neal suffer through more poison being injected into him.

Diana left to retrieve the box of syringes.

Peter looked down at Neal. He noticed that Neal was still holding on to him even in his sleep. How am I supposed to do this to him? Cause him more pain? Peter thought as he brushed strands of hair away from Neal's forehead. Diana returned and sat down in front of him again.

"Diana." Peter said.

"Yeah, Boss?" Diana asked.

"I….I can't do this. I can't give it to him. I can't do this to him." Peter stated softly, a pleading look pooling in his eyes.

"Peter, we have too. It's the only way. It's his best chance." Diana tried to encourage.

"No, you don't understand. I…. can't give it to him." Peter stated uncomfortably.

Diana now understood. Peter wanted her to inject Neal. She didn't want to do it either but she understood Peter's unwillingness to cause his partner more pain and couldn't ignore his plea.

"Okay, Boss. I'll do it." She replied. "Should we wake him and tell him what's going on?" She asked.

Peter thought for a moment and decided it was probably best that they did so that Neal wouldn't wake up in a panic. Peter gently shook Neal awake.

"Neal….Neal, Come on, Buddy….wake up."

Neal's eyes fluttered open and his fingers tightened around the material he still held onto.

"P`tr?"

"Yeah, kiddo. It's me. I need you to listen to me really carefully, alright?" Peter waited a few minutes for Neal to fully wake. Neal looked up at Peter expectantly.

"We are going to give you the antidote okay?"

"You…..f- found out which one it is?" Neal asked surprised but hopeful. Peter looked away, not able to look at Neal. He had no idea how he was supposed to tell him what they planned to do. He thought about lying, but knew that would just be worse. He looked back at Neal.

"Not exactly, Buddy. We are going to… "Peter struggled to explain. Diana helped him out.

"Neal, we are going to give you a few drops of each syringe in order to figure out which one is the antidote. You might feel worse, before you start to feel better, but everything is going to be okay. We are going to be right here and won't let anything happen to you." Diana explained. Neal stared at her trying to comprehend what the lady suit, as Mozzie called her, was saying. He looked up at Peter as a slight tremor passed through him.

"So….m-more poison will mos-st likely b-be injected into me?" Neal asked fearful.

Peter bit at his bottom lip before replying. "Probably, but not much and the antidote will cancel most of it out." Peter watched Neal drop his gaze as realization sunk in.

"I'm sorry, Neal. But this is the only choice. If there was any other way I-"But Neal cut him off.

"I know, Peter. It's o-kay….. I t-trust you." Neal said as he looked up at Peter. Once again his body arched as a painful spasm rolled though him. This time he turned on his side and buried his face into Peter's stomach and grabbed his shirt in his fist. Peter was stunned for a few seconds but quickly ran a hand through the young man's hair until he relaxed. Neal didn't move his head away from Peter's stomach but released his grip on his shirt. Diana spoke up.

"Neal? Are you ready?" She asked. Neal waited a few seconds before nodding his head that was still buried in Peter's stomach. Neal gave no notion of moving. Diana sensed that Neal's position was more of a safety net for him, being close to the man that protected him everyday even if there was nothing to protect him from. She didn't move him.

She grabbed his arm. "Alright, Neal. Here we go."

Peter felt Neal tense and try to bury his head deeper into his torso as if he was trying to hide. Peter laid a hand on Neal's head reassuringly but turned his own head as Diana stuck the first syringe into Neal's arm depositing a few drops of the fluid into Neal's arm. He only turned his head back around when he heard Diana's voice.

"Now we wait."

AN: Uh-Oh! What's going to happen to Neal? haha You know what to do... let me know what you think! :) Thanks guys!