*guilty hands back virtual cookie* Ok. I am so sorry that it's taken me forever to update. I have reasons, but you guy probably don't care. BUT on the bright side…here's chapter 5!
The angry mutterings of FBI agents surrounded Peter as he stared in disbelief at Neal and the Crazy Austrian sauntering out of the room with his arm casually thrown across Neal's shoulders.
"I knew he couldn't be trusted!" Clark said triumphantly, even though he still managed to somehow look like a beaten puppy.
"Yeah," another agent agreed furiously. "Did you see how friendly they were to each other?"
"-that lying, traitorous-"
"-always knew he had an ulterior motive-"
"-don't know why-"
A shot fired in the air cut off the agents' angry rants.
"Hey! This is not social hour!" a henchman shouted in a bad impression of the Crazy Austrian, not that the Austrian ever yelled. He seemed to be more of a silent, deadly type. The FBI agents instantly stilled. The henchman wasn't all that threatening. His gun was.
Peter stared blandly as the Austrian lead Neal out of the room. The conman seemed every bit as comfortable as he would at June's. His ability to blend in any place at any time astounded Peter. That was probably part of the reason all the agents accepted Neal. Well, the agents that worked with Caffrey anyways. Well, worked with Caffrey and didn't instantly dismiss him as an untrustworthy, lying, scheming criminal—which he ended up being anyway. He sold us out, Peter thought bitterly. He's letting us be taken hostage by a madman and his bloodthirsty henchmen. Maybe I was wrong about Neal running with murderers. He seems quite content with them. He should've never trusted Neal. He should've never agreed to take him out of that god-forsaken prison. He should've…noticed how tense Neal looked before Badeni hugged him. He should've noticed the underlying anxiety that hid behind Neal's calm voice when he asked if Peter trusted him. He should've…
Peter shook his head to get rid of all the what-ifs and hopeful maybes rolling around. It wasn't going to get him anywhere. Peter long ago accepted that the world didn't always turn out the way you wanted it to. Even if a certain conman seemed to be growing used to staying on the right side of the law…or just hiding the fact that he was breaking it better. The Federal Agent snorted. He should've never trusted Neal…maybe the rest of the Bureau was right. Maybe he was growing too attached to the blue-eyed conman. It apparently stopped Peter from sniffing out about Neal's plot sooner.
~O~
Agent Clark glanced around at the brooding FBI agents in frustrated anger. He could not believe the amount of damage the 'ex'-conman caused the FBI by finally showing his true colors and openly going back to the wrong side of the law. Of course, he always knew that Caffrey was never to be trusted, but certain others—his gaze drifted towards Agent Burke—didn't. The worst part was that the FBI let this happen. The wheels were set in motion the moment Caffrey was officially made a member of the Bureau. Caffrey had probably been planning this for months and the FBI never got an inkling. At least Agent Clark knew that the Bureau will never make that mistake again. Not that it mattered because the FBI agents were still being held hostage by the low-lives that Caffrey betrayed them to. Agent Clark took a small comfort in the fact that if—when—they were rescued, Caffrey would be sent to prison for life with a slim chance of parole.
Agent Clark glanced towards the door that Caffrey and Badeni disappeared into, wondering idly what they could possibly be doing. Probably patting each other on the back for their success over the FBI…
~O~
A sharp pain exploded in Neal's chest as Badeni's foot connected with his rib cage. Neal let loose a small shout. He felt Badeni's triumph radiate from somewhere above him as he won the small victory of finally causing an involuntary reaction from the smooth-faced conman. Neal wheezed in a breath, wondering how he even got into this mess.
"Oh my god…" a distantly familiar voice said in horror.
"Badeni! What the hell are you doing?" a British voice yelled.The sound of running feet came rushing towards him until Neal felt comforting hands cautiously checking over his injuries. He cracked his eyes open to see an old contact of his worriedly peeking at the visible bruises and blood on Neal. The conman gave Hank a weak smile before concentrating on Tommy. Boy, he looked ticked.
"I vas simply giving a lesson on manners to our old friend here," Badeni said in a lazy voice, not quite disguising his annoyance of being forced into stopping at the peak of his "lessons." Neal glanced down to do a quick recon of his injuries. Sore shoulder, bruises, scraps. Neal swallowed. He had worse, but still. Ow. Neal snorted in disbelief as he realized that even in a rage, Badeni was perfectly in control. All his injuries were located on either his chest, back, or shoulder, meaning that if he ever saw Peter or any of the other FBI agents, all his injuries would be safely hidden behind clothing. Kind of irking really…
"And that's just great, Badeni," Tommy said heatedly. "Why don't you just kill everyone that displeases you? That way—"
"But if I did that, then you and I vouldn't get to vork together," Badeni interrupted calmly. The Austrian smirked as Tommy stilled and took a deep breath before mumbling a not-so-heartfelt apology. "That's quite alright. I'm a forgiving man you know." Badeni ignored Neal's snort. "So forgiving, in fact, that I'll let Neal make up his betrayal by helping us vith our forgeries."
Don blinked before sputtering protests. "But Badeni! I already have the forgeries covered."
"You mean the forgeries the FBI caught you on?" Tommy asked innocently. Don glared.
"Oh, Neal needs to help. He wants to, isn't that right, Neal?" Badeni thumped Neal's tender shoulder companionably. His various cuts and bruises cried out, but Neal forbad any pain to penetrate his mask of polite indifference. Badeni's slightly irritated scowl lead Neal to believe that he was successful.
"I would love to," Neal said in a monotone. Badeni dug his fingers into Neal's shoulder. The conman couldn't quite suppress a wince.
"Now, Neal," Badeni sighed. "People might think you don't mean that." Wonder why, Neal thought wryly.
"I would love to, Badeni." Neal said with fake excitement. "You know how much I enjoy vorking with you. The opportunity is too great to pass—"
Badeni whacked Neal on the head. "Don't be a smart ass. Come on, Don. Let's go pick out the art piece Mr. Caffrey vill help us vith." Neal watched in amusement as Don obediently followed Badeni out the door without the barest hint of hesitation.
"How is he?" Tommy softly asked Hank after glancing briefly at Neal.
"Not deaf," Neal snapped. God he hated being injured, even if it was just a bruising. Everyone always treated him like he was too incompetent to perform the even the simplest task…like answering questions, for instance.
Tommy looked a little abashed. "Sorry…you look like…bad." Neal laughed softly.
"Really? I only feel terrible," Neal answered. The conman felt a pang of guilt as Tommy and Steve flinched.
"Neal," Hank scolded lightly. Neal flushed slightly at Hank's reprimand, but took comfort in the fact that they probably couldn't tell behind all the bruises…except Badeni specifically avoided his face during his 'lesson'…so they probably saw it anyway…oh well.
"So," Neal said lightly, "are we just going to hang around here all day or can we go to the FBI break room?"
"Are you sure you're alright?" Steve asked nervously.
"I'm not going to drop dead," Neal said, slightly irritated. It was just a few bruises. A person would think that his arm got lopped off for all the fuss he was getting. Neal wordlessly took Tommy's outstretched hand and groaned as a sharp pain exploded in his ribs during his attempt to stand up.
"Neal!" Tommy cried in alarm as Neal slumped over.
"Where does it hurt?" Hank asked urgently, instantly kneeling by his side. Neal made a vague gesture toward his rib cage.
"Here?" Hank asked as he pressed his fingers against Neal rib cage. Neal shook his head. "Here?" Another shake of the head. "Her-" Neal bit his tongue as a wave of pain erupted from where Hank's fingers dug into his ribs. Neal gazed up at his three old friends' alarmed expression as everything slowly faded into black…
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