Hieveryone! For a Easter presnt, I made this extra long! You may notice that I use The metric system but Im american! Well, I'm the type of american that dosn't like the US custamary system, sorry if this incovinences you, but bare with me. Happy to oblige if this does convenience you. Also I need to thank the best person EVER my awsome beta reader Morgo7kc, You rock!

The car pulled up to the pier aat 1258 hours exactly, the pier was crowded with people but none of them looked remotely like the people they were looking for. Peter stepped out of the car and on the other side, so did Agent Rice of the Missing Persons Division. He had not really liked the idea of bringing her along, but she knew a hell of a lot more about ransoms and hostage exchanges then he did, plus she still owed Neal big time.

"So what now? asked Agent Rice curtly.

"I have no idea in the faintest," muttered Peter, trying to crane his neck to look for any sign of the kidnapers.

"So let me get this straight: You're going to meet a sociopath with a history of violence, with a enough money in your trunk to buy a small cruise liner, unarmed with no way of defending yourself or back up for that matter, and you dragged me along?" asked Agent Rice with a look on her face that told Peter she was seriously questioning his sanity.

"In a nutshell, yes," replied Peter, focusing his eyes on her, "Besides you offered to come along."

"I will never understand you White Collar people," she muttered.

"Admit it, you love us," Peter teased.

"In your dreams," answered Rice, brushing off the idea, "besides it's officially 1:01 and nothing is happening, are you sure you got the place right?"

Peter was about to give her a rather snappy reply when as if on cue, his phone rang. Peter grabbed it up and answered.

"Hey Burke," came a playful, all-too-familiar voice on the other side of the line, "here's an idea that might just save your friends' lives. Ditch your little girlfriend; away from the car of course, we don't want her to get hurt, do we? Then run-I don't know-one kilometer north. You better do it fast, you don't have long! Also be a dear and leave the keys in the car. Clocks ticking, chop chop!" Then the line went dead

"Rice I need you to do something with no questions, can you do that?" asked Peter adrenaline pumping threw his veins.

"Burk-"

"CAN YOU?" Peter screamed he could feel time slipping away from him.

"Yes," she answered threw her teeth.

"Get yourself a coffee."

"But…"

"No questions! Do it for the sake of Neal, Diana, Jones, me, you, and the whole god damn FBI!"

Without a word she turned on her heel and walked away, looking hurt, but Peter had no time for her feelings. He just took off running.

Peter had ran maybe a kilometer when he realized he was at a dock peeking out into the water, a gut feeling sunk in and he stopped. He was exhausted, all the adrenaline had worn off but he managed to turn to that dock and sprint the whole length. When he got to the end his phone buzzed again, and again he eagerly answered.

"I'm here, where are you?" he snapped. Peter Burke was done playing games, he meant business.

"Watching you," came the calm voice of the super sociopath genius that was even more immature than Neal, if that was even possible, "I must say you are very good at following directions! I know, we should play Simon says next!" He giggled at his own joke like a hyper five year old, which in turn really pissed off Peter.

"Peter," said Sean drawing out his name to prove the point him being in control, "I'm a nice guy, so I'll tell you how to save your agents. There is a boat they're on, but I may have put some holes in it."

Peter face turned deadly and he almost screamed but was brought back to his senses by Sean's playful voice, "Petey," Sean teased him, with what he suspected was his new nickname, "Don't look like that, they'll escape fine, without your help! Wait, oh no they won't! Silly me I forgot the sedative I put in there system. It's my own concoction! And if I may say so myself, it works oh too well," Sean bragged in a cocky tone. "It makes a person just confused enough to not be a hero…but when the victim participates in over-exerting activities such as swimming they are rendered paralyzed."

"So what you're saying is that even if they get out they'll drown anyway?" Peter hissed not bothering keeping the anger out of his tone.

"And you win the prize, Petey! It's a perfect watery grave, unless Petey Panda Bear can help!" Sean laughed one more time before the line went dead.

Peter released a torrent of swears and looked around desperately. He didn't even give a second thought to his newest much extended nickname (I mean really what does Peter have that remotely relates to a Panda Bear? Oh yeah, I'm writing the story so… go Petey Panda Bear!) And right on cue, a boat that was practically sunk floated into view from almost nowhere. The boat bobbed up to reveal a splintered door. Peter's heart dropped to his stomach, hell it was in his toes. He knew what that meant: they were out and they were going to drown.

Just as panic and utter loss of hope was beginning to set in he looked over to his right and couldn't believe his eyes. He saw a woman with dark skin and long, wet, black hair burst through the water. He wasted no time before turning on his heels to run to the figure. As he watched he saw she was obviously struggling to swim in general not to mention it looked like she was trying to hold something or someone in her arms. As quickly as he saw her, the current pulled her under again.

Peter ripped of his jacket and kicked off his shoes rather ungracefully as he ran, not caring where they landed, before diving head first in to the cold churning water where Diana had disappeared seconds ago. Peter fought the sensation of shock as the cold water hit him. He kicked hard, propelling himself forward, trying to reach the figure ahead of him. He reached her surprisingly easily. He grabbed her form around the waist and shoulders from behind before dragging her to the surface. With a painful effort he heaved her up on the dock and he carefully placed her on the dock. He was about to check her vitals when her eyes flew open and she grabbed his wrist.

"Jones…. St'll in wat'r…. to hard to swim," she rasped between coughs, her eyes wide with fear.

"Shit!" Peter exclaimed as he once again jumped head first into the freezing water. As the bubbles around him cleared his stinging eyes searched for any sign of the Jr. Agent. The pressure of the liquid around him was growing by the second to almost unbearable heights. Then he saw a sight that would probably haunt his dreams for a long time: Jones's contorted pale form was limply sinking ever so deep into the murky water. Peter swam with all his might towards Jones; he reached out with his arms grasping Jones around the chest with one arm and his waist with the other, just like he did to Diana. Just as his arms grabbed Jones, (who Peter assumed to be unconscious) Jones panicked. He tried to squirm away but the effort was futile with the sedative pulsing through his veins. The real problem was that Jones tried to scream at the same time. Peter watched horrified as Jones choked on the water that had rushed to fill his lungs before going limp.

Yet another pulse of adrenaline kicked in as Peter broke the surface and heaved Jones on to the dock next to Diana. He didn't even check for a pulse, he just started pumping on Jones chest, watching as streams of water gurgled out of the agent's mouth on each pump. "Come on, Jones, come on buddy! Don't you dare die on me now!" screamed Peter. Oblivious of the gathering crowd of, Agent Rice, whom had probably tracked him here from the second he left, with a phone to her ear requesting a medevac.

Peter pumped one more time and Jones's body convulsed as he turned, and with a gurgling heave coughed up more water than Peter thought possible on the dock. He slowly opened his eyes and whispered, "P'ter how you… find… us? Where is Diana?" Jones rasped.

Peter took a quick glance at Diana whose hair was speckled with dirt and gravel from laying on the dock sopping wet. She was also shivering violently which reminded Peter how damn cold he was too. He looked at Jones and said "The paramedics will be here soon, just relax you'll be okay." Then he kind of casually turned to Diana and asked, "by the way, where is your shirt?" trying to keep her distracted while the paramedics approached.

"We used it to bandage up Neal-" Diana suddenly gasped as the horrible realization dawned on everyone, "Oh God! Neal! Where is Neal?"

All of a sudden, turmoil broke out. The paramedics arrived, pushing Peter aside. Jones started to scream hysterically (or as loud as you can scream when you've been practically choked and drowned in the same day) plus fights the paramedics, who were trying to sooth him. This caused Diana to start screaming at the paramedics working on her that she was fine and the paramedics working on Jones to leave him the hell alone, that they where scaring him. (It was very true and Peter couldn't blame him.)

But everything was a whirl of color around Peter as the shock of Neal's absence set in. He was fading in and out of the world. One second he was on the dock the next he was in the ambulance holding Diana's hand in a death grip as she lay there. Then he was in the emergency waiting room and El was there crying and hugging him before going home to check on Satchmo. Next came Agent Rice saying the money was gone from the car and there was no sign of Neal. The next thing Peter new he heard "Agent Burke?" someone was shaking his shoulder.

He opened his eyes to see a nurse there, "Wha?" he mumbled rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Your agents are ready to see you, they have been cleaned up and banged and Agent Jones is out of surgery. We had to set his ankle, it was a bad break. Also Agent Berrigan suffered a concussion and some significant bruising and cuts and a dislocated wrist, but she should be able to answer questions without to much strain. I will warn you, Agent Jones suffered a cracked trachea and fluid in the lungs which will make it hard for him to talk, oh and I almost forgot both have fractures to the ribs." Said the nurse in a fast paced tone and confusing order.

Peter wrote it all down on a note: Diana: concussion and wrist dislocated, Jones: Ankle broken, cracked trachea, and fluid in lungs, both: significant cuts and bruising and rib fractures. Along with this he made mental note to kill that bastard Sean.

Peter walked into Jones and Diana's room past the protection detail they placed outside, he looked around the room before focusing on the agents. Diana was awake and staring into space (a lovely side affect of morphine) with what seemed to be way too many tubes connected to her, a lot of bandages, he winced at the black and blue blotches that entwined her chest where the bandages didn't cover, she also had a bright blue cast on her wrist. Peter tried not to laugh. Of course Diana had to go with the colored cast, it was so typical. "Hey," said Diana in a soft voice not bothering to look at him.

Peter went to her bed side and grasped her in a hug. "Ouch," she groaned.

"Sorry," said Peter. "I'm just glad to see you."

"Me too, it means we lived. Speaking of that, did you find Neal? Or his…his… bo-" her voice rising with each syllable.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't go there yet we'll find him alive!" said Peter calming Diana trying to not let her voice wake Jones who was sound asleep in a similar condition to Diana, but unlike Diana he had no hospital gown on and the area where the gown covered that was wrapped tightly in bandages. There was a nasty looking tube in his side, Peter assumed that it was to drain the fluid from his lungs. He had the same amount of bruises and cuts; he also had a orange cast around his left leg. God, Peter worked with children.

Diana saw Peter eyeing Jones's cast, "I insisted they make it orange," she whispered tears swelling in her eyes as she looked at Jones.

"He'll love it you know orange is his favorite color," (I looked it up, but I have no idea what Jones's favorite color is.) Soothed Peter taking Diana's hand in his. He usually was bad at this comforting stuff but this was Diana she was family.

"O.K., Diana, I need you to tell me everything."

So Diana started to tell the events from when he left the van until he pulled her ashore.

"We're not going to find Neal, are we?" she asked with sadness in her eyes.

"We will..."

Just then, Peter's cell rang. It was from Sean so he put it on speaker and called in the agents from the hall so they could all lean in and hear. Peter took a breath and answered the phone, it was silent for a second before he asked "What now?"

"That's not nice P'ter," came a slurred very familiar voice from the other end of the phone.

Everyone in the room except for Jones who was on some pretty heavy sedative sat up. "Neal? Where are you? What happened?" asked Peter desperately.

"I, I, I… don't know," Neal responded in a confused voice.

"Neal, stay on the line, we're coming!" yelled Peter, so loud it woke Jones with a jolt.

"I can keep the phone on but I don't-"

There was a thump and a sound of a breath being let out. Then all was silent, except the sound of crickets.

"NEAL!" yelled Peter as he tore out of the room. The last thing he saw of the room was an ecstatic yet worried Diana and a very sleepy, confused Jones.

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Neal felt like he had been hit by a train. Every muscle in his body ached and every bone felt broken. He blearily opened his eyes and forced his body to obey him as he sat up, almost falling over as his ribs, shoulder, and-hell-the rest of him screamed in protest. All of this was almost enough to put him under, not to mention the blinding head ache.

He felt a hand help him up and as the world stopped spinning he realized that he had been lying in Diana's lap, and she had no shirt on. He closed his eyes again but kept sitting upright, "Oh, she will never hear the end of this one when we get out of here." Neal thought, but the little voice in the back of his head disagreed, "Don't be mean," it teased, "Diana used her shirt to bandage you, remember? She was comforting you, besides its not when we get out of here, it's if we get out of here!"

He wanted to tell the voice to "Shut the hell up," but he already was hurting and he didn't want to look crazy too.

With a jolt he came back to reality as Diana suddenly grabbed his body in a protective fashion. Neal took a sharp inhale of breath from the pain but was able to stay calm. "Come on Neal," he told himself, "get in reality! Survey your situation, use your brain."

Neal let out a painful breath before opening his eyes once again. He took in all the details in the way he did with a painting. He saw Diana holding him protectively, anger and fear on her face. She was scootched as close to Jones as possible. He saw Jones with a look of pain, fear, and hatred in his eyes, a look he never saw on Jones and hoped never to see again. Lastly he took in Sean, the bastard stood above them with a smug look of satisfaction on his face as he saw how utterly helpless his captives where.

Neal then tuned into what Sean was saying, "I'm going to inject you with a light sedative, just enough to confuse you so you can't run, nothing to worry about, unless you refuse. Then it gets painful." Sean told them. Neal had no idea what they were talking about but doing as he was told looked like the best bet if he wanted Jones and Diana to survive.

He tried to hold out his arm but was just too weak to lift it. Diana leaned over and with her free arm helped him hold his up. Neal kept his eyes forward while the others were injected with the liquid. First he heard Jones letting out a breath that he probably was holding in before they injected him and the unmistakable thud as he slumped to his side hitting the floor.

Neal started to shake with anger. He had made a promise to save them but now they were being rendered immobile to the mercy of a sociopath and he couldn't help but blame himself for being helpless.

He felt Diana drop his arm and fall onto his shoulder, making a shock of pain rocket through his body. He let out a sharp breath while biting his tongue,determined not to scream. Closing his eyes tight, he waited in fear for the needle prick but it never came. Neal opened his eyes just a crack and almost screamed as he saw Sean sitting on the floor right smack dab in front of him, literally centimeters away. "Scared yet, Neal?" asked Sean.

"Not really," Neal replied flatly.

"Well we'll just have to fix that," said Sean standing up and brushing his jeans off, Neal knew what Sean was going to do even before Sean moved but he wasn't able to defend himself as Sean's sneaker came flying at him hitting him square in the spleen.

"Jesus fucking Christ! What the hell is with you and kicking?" Neal expected to scream and he really did, but what words came out of his mouth was unexpected. He had under estimated his own determination.

"Eh. It's kind of a compulsion problem." Sean said, dismissing the outburst.

"It's not your only problem," muttered Neal under his breath.

"I heard that," snapped Sean as he leaned over and grabbed Neal roughly, making Neal wince and Diana slump further to the floor, and spun him around quickly, putting handcuffs that seemed to appear out of nowhere around his wrists. Then he paused, contemplating something in his mind before grabbing Neal's mouth and forcing it open and putting a rag inside and duct tape over his lips.

Neal gave Sean a confused look, "I bet you want to know why I'm not sedating you, Neal? Well I have different plans for you." As Sean said this Neal broke into a sweat, violence was not his thing. It was understandable he did not take indentations of more violence well. "Aww…don't be scared, buddy. It'll only hurt a lot, but we have things to attend to first."

Sean turned around and whistled to the goons who just loved to drag them down the hall, and sure enough the big one (that Neal had nicknamed Fluffy because of his, oh so gracious hospitality, he was kind of a right hand man to Sean) roughly picked up the still forms of Jones and Diana in each arm and the smaller one (he call him Smiles for the frown he kept on his face, and was, well, Sean's left hand man) grabbed Neal by his neck and forced him onto his feet. Immediately a feeling of nausea rolled over Neal and he fell back to the floor.

Smiles tried to kick Neal but Sean stepped in between the two, grabbed Smiles leg, and in one fluid motion flipped Smiles on his head "Ouch! Sorry, Boss, " apologized Smiles to Sean.

"Did we talk about hurting the captives?" Sean said in a rhetorical question way, "I'll take him myself." With that Sean leaned down, grabbing Neal under the armpits, and with surprising strength, hosted him up so he was propped against him in an almost standing position. Neal didn't fight it; he was too tired, so he leaned his full weight against Sean. This in turn did not bother Sean at all, and then Sean started to walk backwards to the door, dragging Neal while Fluffy carried Jones and Diana, and Smiles opened doors.

As they walked outside Neal was blinded by the sunlight. He hadn't realized that it had been at least 48 hours since he had seen it last. This didn't last long before Sean rather gently lifted Neal into a bare back of a van where he sat him on the floor. Next he grabbed Jones and sat the barely conscious man next to Neal. Jones immediately slumped onto Neal's lap, which made him wince, but he didn't have the heart to move him. Lastly Sean pulled Diana into the van and closed the door. Neal heard the engine start and assumed Smiles and Fluffy where driving. Sean propped Diana up next to him on the other side of the van where he could keep an eye on Neal. Diana, like Jones, slumped promptly into Sean's lap.

Neal made a loud growl in his throat as Sean smiled in a satisfied manner. He would've like to curse but his gag would not let him. Sean just gave him a wink, knowing that Neal was too weak to do anything, "This is most definitely one of the best days in Sean's life," Neal thought.

They rode in silence for a while before Neal heard the engine cut and the distinct sound of a foghorn. "They were at the water? But why? Neal had a lot of terrible ideas but they probably weren't twisted enough to fit Sean's profile."

"Not to worry, Neal. This is the hostage exchange remember? Except we're not at the Chelsea pier, where about 1.5 Kilometers away. We're putting your friends on a boat and sending them out, but the boat has holes. I doubt they'll survive if Burke doesn't leave the money. It's genius, right? Neal Caffrey-worthy!

Neal had to admit that this was good in its own twisted way. He was taking advantage of Peter's emotional attachments for his agents.

"Of course they'll make it, but you won't. You sadly are competition in my field, my only leveled opponent, and I take my opponents out in person."

Before Neal could react Jones was dragged off him and Diana off Sean. Neal tried to lunge and grab them, but he didn't even make it half way before Sean's arm shot out and landed a clean palm heal strike to Neal's battered ribs. It wasn't a hard strike, but in Neal's condition it was enough. He fell to the ground, paralyzed in pain. For a second he thought he was going to pass out but unfortunately he stayed painfully conscious. He lay there helplessly as Diana and Jones were carried to their pending doom. As they walked down the dock Diana opened her eyes and they locked with Neal's. Neal's heart sunk as he saw the fear in her eyes, the fear that none of them could now deny.

After Smiles and Fluffy had come back, they had dropped off Sean and drove Neal somewhere else. Neal made no struggle when they took him out of the van; he realized that he recognized the place that he was being dragged into. It was a warehouse district right near Peter's house. He began to hyperventilate, praying they didn't know were Peter lived. Oh god, El was home at this hour! Neal had to assume the worst. Fluffy suddenly stopped and pushed Neal against a wall of the warehouse and handcuffed him to a pipe, plus tore off his gag. Neal of course slid directly to the ground, not able to support his own weight.

"Here is the deal, kid," said Fluffy, "Bossman is coming to shoot you in an hour and then lead your partner's wife to find you mangled corpse, so you ponder that while I order Chinese." Neal wasn't really listening, he didn't want to; instead he was eyeing the cell phone that Smiles kept clipped to the outside of his pants.

As the men started to walk away Neal knew he only had one chance. "Wait!" he yelled, "What do I call you guys? Because Fluffy and Smiles doesn't cut it."

It worked like a charm: both Smiles and Fluffy came at him; they then continued to pummel him to a pulp, or a finer pulp. Until they got bored and went for Chinese, when they left Neal huddled in the corner, wanting to close his eyes and never open them ever again, but he knew better. He sat up as much as he could against the wall, and smiled as he slipped the cell phone out of his pocket. He flipped it open.

"No reception, crap." Neal whispered.

He took the cell phone holder and tore out the wire, He twisted the wire at a ninety degree angle and painfully twisting his wrist at a odd angle too. He smiled at this rewarding yet so painful accomplishment before jamming the wire into the handcuffs. Neal felt an adrenaline rush kick in, the pain began to numb and his muscles return to him, then he began picking.

As soon as Neal had one wrist undone he staggered to his feet, and made his way to the warehouse door. "Come on…com-"CLICK! Neal almost jumped with joy as the door to the warehouse flew open. Suddenly some blue prints in the corner caught his eye. So far Smiles and Fluffy were still on their Chinese food run. He looked at the blue prints and in horror realized what they were (no you don't get to know yet! I'm just mean that way ); "he had to tell Peter!"

Neal stepped into the dark alleyway outside just as he heard Smiles and Fluffy return through the other door. Panic struck Neal and he began to sprint at full speed, causing excruciating pain from all the jostling. He heard yelling behind him, as he whipped around the corner. He didn't realize were he was heading until he was maybe three houses away from the Burkes. He took out the cell phone as he limped toward the house. Pain was edging its way back into his reality, and he dialed in Peter's number.

The cell phone rang a few times before he heard Peters voice, "What now?" he snapped

"That's not nice P'ter," slurred Neal, as he leaned against the Burke's mailbox ,spreading a bloody hand print across the white surface. His adrenaline rush had faded and now the pain was edging back into his reality.

"Neal? Where are you, what happened?' Asked Peter desperately from the other end of the phone.

"I I I…. don't know," Neal responded in a confused voice, the world was spinning and he tried to take another step toward Peter's house.

"Neal stay on the line where coming!" Yelled Peter.

"I can keep the phone on but I don't-"Neal tried to take another step but fell to the ground centimeters short of the front steps, the phone fell from his grip skidding under a bush. All Neal could do was too look backwards, surprised by the bloody trail he had left.

"Who's there?" He heard a voice of an angel he never thought he would see again in the distance, "Oh my! Who?" his world was dark and fading but he felt his hair being brushed from his face, "Neal, no, no, no…Peter you need to get here, its Neal!"

Neal wanted to tell her it was O.K. but his body slipped further down the icy slope to oblivion until it faded to nothing

Thx for reading! I wanted to tell you that I really do depend on your reviews to alter my writing,so plz review! If you have questions don't hesatate to message me! If you need my excuses for not updating enough vist my site! Love you all!-Emma