(Chapter 4)

Over 24 hours ago...

Neal, Diana and Jones were in the Municipal van on stakeout waiting for something to happen. So far Jaren Morrison wasn't doing much of anything they could use to incriminate him as they chatted about this and that, Neal playing with a deck of cards he snuck in. The agents were drinking stale coffee and snacks, the con finally thinking of doing the same when he heard something outside. There was a knock on the van door, Neal answering to find Agent Atley appeared. Jonas climbed inside and deposited deli sandwiches, soup and coffee for them all.

"Wow, Jonas... this actually looks pretty good."

Jones commented to the rookie with a smile. The younger agent just shrugged.

"They were having a sale at the deli there down the street. Opportunity knocked. Dig in."

Jones nodded. They had all been excited at the feast, everyone hungry for something other than stale coffee from a thermos and the usual sugary / starchy snacks. They dug in, Neal taking a ham & cheese along with coffee. It all smelled delicious as they took their time enjoying the food as they waited and chatted. Peter was supposed to meet up with them soon to get an update and relieve anyone who needed to go home. They had already drawn straws and Neal had won.

Two more hours passed. It was nearly time for the agent to appear when they heard a knock and Neal smiled brightly despite the groan from his colleagues.

"Hey... fair is... (stomach gurgling) fair."

He stood up to answer the door, a bit of cramping making his stomach ache. He heard Diana give a very unladylike burp, while Jones and Atley just sniggered slightly in reaction. Neal rolled his eyes as he opened up the door and came face to face with a pistol. His hands were up in the air quick as he backed up away from the masked figure and heard his colleagues go silent as more men appeared. There was no time to draw guns as the man took them by surprise.

"Ah... snack time. I'm glad you liked it. Gas them."

Neal heard the words, the agents unable to react when someone tossed a smoke bomb into the space, the door shut behind the dark figures. He had already pulled out a handkerchief and covered his nose and mouth but his colleagues were already starting to succumb to the gas as he held his breath and tried to hang on long enough to get some info about their captors. His plan was working some but Neal felt himself starting to go, collapsing to his knees as he saw the door open up and Peter stood there. The agent looked surprised, definitely not prepared for what was happening as one man grabbed and clocked the agent deftly across the temple. Peter slumped in the doorway, the men pulling him inside as Neal felt himself start to be overcomed by the gas, one man holding a gun on him.

"This one's still awake... what do we do?"

The one who had spoken before moved closer, grasping at Neal's arm and pulled the handkerchief away from his face. He couldn't resist, his body going limp as more gas entered his lungs, eyes fluttering between awake and sleep. He saw Peter being lifted up as his visioned grayed to black, the dream of the storm and nightmare coming back to him. Peter had been a constant even in unconsciousness and now... now he had to save his friends despite the pain he felt and weakness. He saw June's house and started forward despite the cramping of his stomach and throbbing in his temples. His breathing felt more labored than usual as he drew closer, shuffling as he dragged himself more than anything across the street and promptly passed out by the door. His eyes looked up at the knob, key in hand but it fell from his hands as he lay there, body shaking with whatever poison Jaren spoke of.

No... not like this... Peter... Jones... Diana... they're depending on me...

His thoughts were drifting away as darkness washed across his vision but he fought it and reached up...

"Neal? Mozzie... come help me!"

His eyes looked up languidly, blurry yet familiar forms there just before he passed out.

()()()

Peter woke up, his stomach beginning to cramp up on him as the botulism bacteria began its work on his system. He was feeling nauseated, the gag and tape removed as he glanced around the empty van. Someone sat in the front seat, voices quiet as he tried to figure out why he was alone when his stomach acted up more and he moved towards a bucket conveniently left near him. He threw up several times but it was mostly clear since they'd been captive since yesterday evening. One of the figures turned to look at him before going back to their chat. He couldn't get to them, a small clear partition between them. The agent looked and found no inside latch or lock on the door. He was trapped, rolling over in pain as the bacteria wrecked havoc on him. They'd left him a small box of water, obviously wanting him semi-alive as he took one and sniffed it. It was normal water as he chugged one thirstily, body craving liquids as his mouth dried up and his body was ravished by the bacteria.

He won't last very long if he's that sick so soon. His "friend" is taking a while. Maybe he ran.

The voices chuckled and laughed but Peter knew Neal hadn't abandoned him. Something must have happened as he lay on the cold metal floor and tried to think of a way out. Botulism wouldn't kill you in most cases but this wasn't feeling like the same thing he'd had the one time he was really ill. This felt more potent as he did his best to stay conscious but began to feel himself succumb to a need to sleep. He was so very weak... eyes fluttering shut. Neal would come back... and help... Peter believed that as he passed out.

()()()

Neal was back in his rooms, the storm hammering outside as he found himself before the open terrace doors again. He stood up as he tried to force the doors shut and keep the rain from entering, a feat he finally managed but just so. The doors rattled angrily as if against someone trying to get inside. He stepped away from the door soaked from the rain and freezing cold. He wrapped his arms around himself as he padded in his damp clothes to the back hallway and went to the bathroom. He disrobed and turned on the shower as hot as he could stand it, standing under the spray but still feeling cold despite everything.

He's not waking up... I'm calling Dr. Munroe.

Someone spoke in the background but he wasn't sure who as Neal slowly slid down to the floor of the shower and curled up. His head was throbbing, chest tight as he shivered in the hot shower.

Neal... wake up.

His eyes fluttered softly in the spray of the shower until the feeling vanished and he found himself shivering but dry on something more comfortable than the shower floor. Neal's eyes opened slightly but it was an effort, his muscles tight and heavy as he gazed up at two blurry forms.

"Neal... we've called a doctor. You'll be ok."

June... she hovered over him protectively another figure there in the background as he fought for consciousness. He had to get something... do something important. Peter...

He jerked up, crying out in pain from the cramping in his side and stomach. Mozzie looked worried as he noticed the little guy move forward with something and Neal held his head over the item and threw up. June was holding him, talking to him in soft tones which should have helped but he was in horrible pain, breath coming short as he choked some and slumped against her hold.

"Pe... Pe... ter"

Neal wanted them to understand, his eyes looking at Mozzie's but the little guy was just looking at him worriedly for not just germaphobic reasons. He would understand if he tried harder.

"De... gas. Nee...eed it..."

He slumped more against his landlady's arms, Mozzie helping to ease him back into bed as someone gently wiped at his sweat drenched brow. What time was it? Jaren had said three hours? His heart raced as he panicked from not knowing if Peter was ok and from being sick. His body spasmed from the pain that wracked his body but he could do little as they tried to hold him down and comfort him. Neal was supposed to be getting the picture... looking at Mozzie with a pleading look, the little guy blinking back.

"Degas? I don't..."

Mozz looked curiously at him but without an expression saying he knew what he meant. Neal reached out and grasped his arm, his friend jumping slightly.

"Degas... for... Pe... Pe... ter's... safety... ran... ransom."

His breath was hitching, body stiffening with each painful cramp from the bacteria infecting his system. His muscles were tightening up, chest constricting as Neal felt his body hardening it seemed as if encased in cement. A weird thought came to him: the stare of the basilisk... or perhaps, Medusa. It was the artist in him or maybe delirium making him think of such things. He cried out but his voice was weakening as his body continued to feel like it was turning to stone. Mozzie moved closer, hand on his shoulder as he whispered.

"Neal, tell me what's wrong."

He gazed up at the bespectacled con, his throat tight as he tried to answer back. His mind was ok but his body wasn't following his instructions anymore as he struggled to speak.

"P... poi... pois... ssonn..."

His strength was failing him as he collapsed more heavily against the bed, his chest constricting until he could no longer wheeze, a slight whistle coming through his lips. Mozzie and June looked horrified, shaking him as he felt his lung refusing to work as they should.

"Neal... Tell us what poison. Neal..."

()()()

Peter couldn't move, everything dark when he woke up next. There were voices nearby, a hint of light but his eyes weren't working as they should with his muscled frozen it seemed in place. He only had a sense of what was going on around him, eyelids vaguely open as shapes moved before him in the gloom.

Jaren said to bury him but this ground is too rocky and hard. I say leave him here. He hasn't much longer.

Sure... I guess the con didn't care about him after all. Come on...

There was a sound of footsteps moving away, eyes trying to follow but nothing moved as if he had been frozen in place. He ached but it was a dull sense of pain as if his nerves had been frozen as well. Peter wondered if he were dead. That would explain why he couldn't move and why his body felt so stiff and unyielding. Rigor Mortis. He heard a groan, distant and low and realized when it happened again that it was him.

I'm alive? How...

The groan happened a third time and then he started to feel something, eyes moving finally and seeing his hand digging in the starlit earth. It was a very shallow grave, barely a few inches and they had left him for the elements. He could almost feel the hard course dirt, sandy loam beneath his unyielding muscles as they came to life again with some effort. He wondered if Neal was here too. The con must have come back for him with the painting. Neal wouldn't have left him to die.

Neal?

His eyes turned and then his head but he found himself alone in the dimly lit ravine. Only crickets and other night creatures sang in the background. There was no one but himself here... Neal hadn't come back. He felt like he should be upset but something held his emotions back as he managed to move a bit more and get himself onto his side, the effort winding him.

Jaren was relentless. He'd found that out listening the past day or so. This wasn't Neal's fault despite the fact he might still have part of the treasure in his possession. Peter believed that as he dragged himself from the shallow pit the two men had tried to dig around him. His eyes caught a glint of something nearby as he moved towards it and found to his relief it was a cell phone. His fingers were hard and unyielding as he tried to grasp the phone and turn it on. It took some effort but he managed to send a text to his wife, hoping she would get it despite the strange number. Jones and Diana were still somewhere in that warehouse alive or dead, he wasn't sure as he did his best to catch his breath.

How much time had past since he passed out in the back of the van? Was it only a few hours or had a day or more gone by? Peter felt his stomach grumble in protest which made him think it must have been longer than a few hours. He felt like the Tin Man from Oz, working to move the rusting stiff muscles the botulism cemented into place. Where was Dorothy with that damn oil can? It was all he could do to keep it together as he watched the phone and waited to see if his wife answered him or not.

()()()

The storm had ended, the clouds breaking for sunlight as he walked out onto the terrace. His dream had changed despite the sound of thunder threatening from somewhere in the background. There was still something wrong as he paced around the dream version of his apartment and slowly came to. Sunlight flashed from the window in front of his bed, eyes squinting but he could move better now. Neal wasn't sure what to think as he eased his aching but more flexible body up to a semi-sitting position and glanced around the room. Someone slept on the sofa but it wasn't Peter as he sighed a bit disappointingly. He picked up an extra pillow from the bed and threw it at the figure, hitting them square across the shoulder as glasses tinkled to the floor and Mozzie sat up with a start.

"We're under attack!"

The little guy looked a bit off, tired maybe if not exhausted as he fumbled for his lost glasses and glanced up at him curiously.

"Nice way to wake a friend up... You must be feeling better I take it?"

Mozzie was his usual sarcastic self but hiding the fact he was worried, the latter evident in his tone. Neal nodded, smiling at his friend and not feeling that tightness so much in his face. He didn't feel like being happy but he was glad to be alive. The feeling of having his body turning to rock was fading as was the imagery associated with it. He almost felt human again.

"They found the Junior and Lady Suits. They're ok."

Neal blinked, glad to hear that but realizing something was missing from the tidbit. Mozzie had said it quickly as if to confuse him enough he wouldn't notice the omission.

"Peter..."

He could only hope he was wrong but his gut still told him his friend was out there somewhere alone. Mozzie wiped at his glasses to delay a moment before shaking his head.

"Nothing. Jaren is gone too. They caught the goons guarding that warehouse you were taken to. (The Degas is still safe.)"

Mozzie emphasized the last bit but Neal didn't care about the treasure. He wanted what was left to go away. It had caused him nothing but trouble first with Peter and their friendship and later with Keller taking Elizabeth to get it. He would gladly give all his treasures away to keep the life he had now if he could.

"I don't care about it being safe!"

He was more angry than he meant to be, pushing the blankets aside despite the lingering weakness. He wanted to be up and about finding his friend rather than here in bed convalescing. Elizabeth deserved to be with Peter and if he had to drag himself out of bed to find his friend, he would. Mozzie held up a hand and seemed to be trying to stop him, a concerned look on his face.

"You need to rest, Neal! The Suits will find him. I have... contacts looking for him too... which is mostly how we found Junior and Lady Suit."

Mozzie seemed sincere, his worry for Peter almost as strong as it was for Neal it seemed. Maybe Elizabeth had been talking to him? The thought made him want to cry.

"Elizabeth's ok. I've been visiting with her downstairs while you were resting. She hoped you knew something but after two days..."

Neal grabbed his friend's arm as he heard the last two words, Mozzie stopping with a slight jump at the contact.

"Two days? I've been asleep for two days..."

The world seemed to spin around a moment, his head reeling at the idea 48 hours had passed him by when he was trying to save his friends. Jones and Diana were ok but Peter... he was still missing! Neal sat back down, the idea that Peter could be...

"They didn't find Peter at the warehouse?"

Mozzie shook his head in response, Neal feeling cold from the idea that Peter could be dead. Jones and Diana only survived due to the fact that Jaren had them on temporary life support the last time he'd seen them. They were in a kind of stasis so that had helped them hang on but Peter... they had threatened to kill him by other means. If he wasn't found, maybe Jaren had gone through with his threat and hidden his friend's body in a hole someplace where nobody would find it. The idea made him want to scream in fury but most of all he wanted to find Jaren and kill him with his bare hands. There was definitely anger there for everything they'd gone through. Peter must be dead if they hadn't found him...

"Neal?"

Mozzie was trying to remove the grip from his arm, Neal letting go after a moment as he came back to himself.

"Jaren... he told me they were going to kill Peter. He wasn't poisoned like the rest of us."

His voice was quiet as he spoke a wide eyed glance from Mozzie showing he understood what had been unsaid.

"Neal... I'm sure the Su... Peter is ok. Jaren doesn't give up that easily. If he really wants the Degas, he'll be back in touch."

Mozzie put a hand on his shoulder awkwardly but trying his best to comfort him as they heard a knock at the door. The two men glanced up at it as they heard the knob turn and June peeked inside. She looked happily surprised.

"Neal, how are you feeling?"

His landlady and benefactress smiled kindly if not matronly at him as she approached and gently hugged him. It was evident she'd been worried as he glanced beyond her and saw another figure standing uncertainly at the doorway. It was Elizabeth Burke. June turned as she sensed his attention had turned away from her.

"Elizabeth came by to see how you were doing. Mozzie... could you please help me with something downstairs."

Her tone was slightly pointed, indicating she wanted the little guy to follow her and leave the two alone. Mozzie followed reluctantly, glancing back with a concerned look before the door shut and they were left alone. Neal wasn't certain what it was he could say, Elizabeth moving closer to hug him gently, his arms enfolding her as he tried not to cry. She trembled slightly before pulling away, a hint of tears there as she smiled softly at him.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Neal."

Elizabeth's voice was soft but there was an unspoken query there as he tried to think how to answer it but found himself at a loss for words.

"Thanks... I'll find him for you, El. I promise."

He hoped she believed him as those blue eyes continued to look as if they might cry right there but she didn't, Elizabeth nodding at him.

"Hughes has everyone searching the city and state for Peter and the man who took you. Can you tell me what you remember? Was... was he ok?"

Elizabeth sat beside him on the bed as he pulled his robe around him and tried to collect his thoughts. What did he remember really? Peter had been in the car with them but then he'd left, feverish and sick and passed out on the front step of June's. What could he actually say about Peter?

"He was when I left."

Neal didn't know what else to tell her as she nodded, squeezing his arm gently as she wrapped hers around it and sighed. Suddenly she sat up, her cheeks blushing a bit as her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket.

"Hmmm... wrong number."

She was about to hang it up when Neal glanced down and saw the name. He grabbed up the phone and pushed accept as Elizabeth tried to figure out what he was doing. There was a single word in the text and nothing more.

Azaleas

Neal blinked at the word and then at the expression on Elizabeth's face as she turned pale.

"That's... that's our safe word. Could it be..."

El's face was still pale as Neal tried to figure out what was going on before she finally explained.

"Peter and I came up with a safe word. He must have texted this..."

Elizabeth paused, looking at the time and date.

"Neal, this was posted late last night! Peter's still alive somewhere. Maybe he got away?"

There was a hopeful tone to her query, Neal feeling it as he thought the same thing unless it was a trap by Jaren. Peter wouldn't give up his safe word or anything else but he wouldn't put it past their captor to try something to get at him. Jaren wanted that Degas or he wouldn't have done what he had to take his friends to get at it.

"Let me talk to Mozzie and see what can be done. Don't tell Hughes yet, ok?"

El nodded reluctantly but seemed like she trusted his judgment as Neal tried to think of something that would help them track Peter via this phone. Mozzie could help on that end but then they'd have to be careful not to fall into a trap of Jaren's. Nobody else was going to get hurt if he could help it.

oOoOoOo

Author's Note: Peter's hurt and hopefully still alive after everything and Neal is better but feeling guilty. Let's see if we can't make this a little more exciting in the next chapter! BWAHAHAHAHAHA! (j/k) ;)