Peter woke up when he was kicked rather violently. He could hear the rain hitting their bedroom window, the thunder rumbling outside, and Neal was crying in his sleep beside him. He shook Neal's arm gently, watching his face. He figured Neal turned over at some point and buried his face against Peter's chest, seeking comfort subconsciously. Apparently, that hadn't worked. "Neal," he said urgently as Neal began to thrash. "Neal, wake up." Sweat was glistening on Neal's body and Peter didn't know what was going on. They'd gone straight to sleep after making love—nothing unusual about that. "Neal, honey, it's just a dream."

Lightning cracked like a whip and Neal screamed in terror, twisting towards Peter instinctually. His eyes finally opened and he gasped. "Peter!" he pleaded. "Peter!"

"I'm here, Neal. I'm here." He hushed Neal gently and rested his hand over Neal's frantically beating heart. "It's okay. You're safe. I promise." Neal stared up at Peter, eyes wide and full of tears. "You're safe. You're home—in bed with me." Peter sat up a bit and Neal, like a frightened child, scrambled into Peter's lap, holding onto him for dear life. Peter didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around his husband and kiss his hair. "You're safe," he said for the third time. He, literally, held Neal in his arms and rocked him gently. He kept hushing Neal, rocking him while rubbing his bare skin in what he hoped was a soothing manner, occasionally kissing Neal's hair in the hopes of reminding Neal that he's loved.

Neal trembled against Peter, but he wanted this. He needed Peter. "I'm so sorry," he said miserably. "I-I…"

Peter whispered, "Don't be sorry. It's okay, sweetheart." Neal's fingers rubbed Peter's chest tentatively, tracing the bullet scar. "Are you okay though? You didn't hurt yourself while you were sleeping, did you?"

"My leg hurts," he whispered.

"Come on, hon. Let's go check it out in the bathroom." It was a very slow process, but they made it. Neal turned the light on and Peter glanced down at Neal's hand, noticing that it was resting over his scarred thigh. "Move your hand," Peter said softly as he sank to his knees in front of his husband. Neal moved his hand and Peter observed the thigh closely. "You might've been scratching the skin a bit. It looks irritated, but it isn't bleeding." He tentatively touched the skin and Neal hissed. He knew that's what Neal had done. The marks were definitely caused by his fingernails. It was done subconsciously and, as per usual, Peter didn't blame Neal for behaving this way. He wanted to understand why his husband had been dreaming about Vincent, Craig, or both bastards. He hoped to God that he wasn't the reason Neal had this nightmare.

"What does this mean?" Neal asked, sounding so small and uncertain.

Peter bit his lip, thinking for a few moments before answering. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "Don't worry though. It isn't like you pissed me off or anything." Neal looked away and Peter rose to his full height. He gently gripped Neal's chin and guided his face until their eyes met. "I love you," he said slowly, making sure Neal understood those three words. "There's no reason to believe I'm upset." He kissed Neal's forehead before resting both hands on Neal's shoulders. "Everything is okay. I'm just really concerned about you, honey."

Neal closed the distance between them, holding onto Peter like a lifeline. "It was horrible," Neal whispered. Peter didn't want to force Neal to talk about his nightmare, but he wouldn't discourage him if he wanted to open up. "Not only were they cutting me and raping me, but they were…were…" He swallowed hard and whispered, "I was dead. They were tearing me to pieces."

The older man's eyes widened and he was glad Neal couldn't see how angry he'd suddenly become. "They can't do that to you," Peter whispered in response. "Neither of them can ever hurt you again. They're both six feet under—permanently." Neal nodded, closing his eyes. "I'm not going to let another man inside of your beautiful body," he promised. "I will kill anyone who tries to touch you." He wanted to claim Neal as his own aloud, but he felt like that may be pushing things at the moment considering Neal just had an awful nightmare. Playing it safe, he added, "I refuse to watch you suffer through another recovery process. You've come so far and I won't have anyone fuck up your progress."

"Thank you," Neal whispered sincerely. "I trust you, Peter. I trust you with my life, my children's lives… You're the only man I've learned to trust with everything." Peter's anger began to simmer a bit and he kissed Neal's neck gently. "I've made progress in my life because of you, because I had you to encourage me every step of the way. I had you to support me, to care for me, to love me. If not for you, I don't… I don't think I'd be who I am right now. Psychologically, I'm sure I would need an asylum."

Peter always hated when Neal said that. He didn't think Neal needed to be labeled as a psychopath and be locked away forever. Neal doesn't hurt others. He isn't violent and he doesn't rape children. He, despite his past, is actually pretty stable. He was, at times, emotionally disturbed, but he was learning to overcome those small setbacks. "No matter what happens to you, you'll never be insane, Neal. You're a smart, sweet, sensitive man. I'm very proud of you and I love you for all that you are."

Neal blushed a little and that warmed Peter's heart. "Why do you think I appreciate having you in my life?" he whispered. "You know everything there is to know about me, but you're still here. You stayed with me when I told you I had a son, when I told you I was raped as a teenager… You stayed with me through everything and I never expected that. I wouldn't ask you to spend your life with me if I made you miserable." Peter rubbed his husband's back, kissing his cheek. "The fact that you're so willing to stay, to prove that you love me on a daily basis… Peter, I'm never kidding when I tell you I don't know where I'd be without you. I didn't know how it felt to actually have my body respected. I didn't know what it was like to have my own opinion, to voice my own thoughts. You've given me so much freedom."

"It's not freedom, hon. It's life. I may be your husband, but I can't control you nor do I want to." They separated enough to look at each other's faces. "You live your life and I live mine, but we're sharing them with each other. I do things that upset you and you do things that upset me, but that's just life, honey. If I let every little thing get to me, what kind of man would I be?"

"A major asshole."

"…That was meant to be rhetorical, Neal George." Neal smiled faintly and Peter shook his head, sighing contentedly. "Yes, I'd be a major asshole if I yelled at you for every little thing you do. Like, you know, leaving the God damn razor out in the open."

Neal raised an eyebrow. "Says the man who hides it on me and bitches at me when I've got scruff."

Peter chuckled, kissing Neal's forehead. "We'll eventually compromise on that."

"In essence, you're saying I need to get my own razor."

"I love you."

Neal blushed again and smiled a genuinely happy smile. "I love you, too, Peter." They just stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before Neal laughed lightly and whispered, "I don't know how you always do it, but you always make me feel so much better within a very short time."

Peter shrugged, taking Neal's hands in his. "It's in my job description. I took 'husband lessons one-oh-one.'" Neal shook his head, leaning towards Peter, sighing against him. "When you're happy, I'm happy." He always meant that. Even now, standing completely naked in their bathroom, his sole purpose at the moment was to make sure Neal was okay. He could easily let his eyes roam over Neal's throat, his broad shoulders, his sculpted chest and abdomen… Neal was just full of beauty in Peter's eyes. His body was perfect. Scars didn't matter to Peter because he still had warm skin to touch, warm skin to kiss.

The only thing better than Neal's body was his smile. His smile had the ability to make him glow, especially when it touched his eyes. When his eyes lit up in that way, Peter knew Neal was truly happy. He'd seen that particular look focused on himself as well as their children.

"I'm always happy with you," Neal whispered. "Always."

Peter believed him. Excluding arguments they've had, they were content with each other—very satisfied. "I hope I can keep you that happy, baby boy. What gets me going in the morning is seeing you smile at me." He gently pecked Neal's lips and whispered, "I love your smile. I love your eyes. I love your cute nose." Neal laughed lightly and Peter bumped his nose against Neal's playfully. "I don't understand how someone can be so damn handsome, beautiful, and cute all at once. You lucky bastard."

Neal giggled and Peter grinned at him, loving that sound more than anything else. Well, almost anything else. "You're all of that and more," he said softly.

"Pft. Don't bullshit me." Neal raised an eyebrow. "I'm standing with you. No one could ever be more handsome, more beautiful, or more adorable than you while in your presence."

"Who's bullshitting who now?" he teased.

Peter wrapped his arms around Neal and chuckled. "Sometimes, I can't believe you're all mine."

Neal lifted his left hand and stroked the side of Peter's face lovingly. "You're an attractive man and I like the way you look at me. You've always shown me that you love me when you're looking at me. I know you're hungry for sex, but you make sure that isn't the priority and that… I appreciate that, Peter."

"Making love to you is special, but that doesn't mean I can't make my relationship and connection with you special. Everything about you is special, Neal. You're such a magnet—drawing me to you every moment of every day."

Every time Peter said something like that, butterflies fluttered in Neal's stomach and in his chest. "Why don't you take me back to bed, hold me, and make me feel special while holding me close?"

Kissing Neal's hair, Peter whispered, "It would be my pleasure, honey."

•◊•

Jon went downstairs to find his son brewing coffee in the kitchen. He was shirtless and looked exhausted, but Jon knew why. After all, he'd woken up to Neal's screams as well. He'd gotten out of bed to see if Neal was okay, but he heard Peter calming him down, so he decided he'd let Peter handle it because Peter knew how to better than anyone else. "Good morning, son."

"Morning, dad," he murmured.

"You okay?"

Peter nodded, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sure you heard Neal throughout the night." He glanced over his shoulder to see Jon nod. "I kept trying to figure out how to get him to sleep peacefully. It didn't work. Nothing I did helped him completely."

Jon's brows furrowed. "What exactly was scaring him?"

"He was having very gory, graphic nightmares and he felt like they were happening to him. The pain he was in within the nightmare scared him shitless and had him screaming." Frowning and lowering his gaze to the floor, he whispered, "I feel responsible. I don't know why, but I think I said something to him at some point yesterday that made him dream about them.."

"What could you have possibly said to him that made him think of those monsters?"

Peter shrugged. "I don't know, but I'm just letting him sleep. He finally relaxed around five." It was ten-thirty now, so Jon knew Peter hadn't gone to sleep since five—perhaps even before that. "I haven't slept since he woke me up at quarter after one. I wanted to make sure he slept peacefully, but he kept waking up. I stayed up to comfort him each time. He was waking up every hour on the hour. Since five, he's been pretty quiet. I go up frequently to check on him though."

Jon nodded, moving towards his son. He rubbed Peter's back and smiled at him sympathetically. "I'm sure he appreciates it, Peter."

"I know he does," Peter agreed. "I just wish I could figure out what caused this. If I can't fix whatever it is, he'll keep having these nightmares."

"Was it like this after he came back from Craig the first time?"

Peter closed his eyes and nodded. "That was so much worse though. I can handle this. Back then, he didn't just toss and turn and wake up screaming. He was thrashing enough to shake the whole bed. Sometimes, one of us was knocked off of the bed. Once or twice, he fell off of the bed and tried to crawl away." Jon could see the tears sliding down Peter's cheeks and he felt bad for Peter. "He was violent in his sleep because he was desperately trying to escape. He screamed loud enough to scare Nicky several times." Shaking his head, he whispered, "This is nothing in comparison to that."

Not too long after Jon and Peter finished that conversation, Neal came downstairs with a robe on. His hair was a mess and he looked sad. "Hey, kid," Jon said, smiling at him.

Neal forced a smile and whispered, "Hey."

Peter smiled a bit as well and Neal met his eyes next. They silently stared at each other and Jon could see that they were communicating even though no words were spoken. "C'mere," Peter said softly. Neal seemed really tense, but he went straight to Peter when Peter told him he could come closer and opened his arms to Neal. Peter held him close, rubbing his back. "How're you feeling?" Neal shrugged, resting his hands on Peter's warm skin. "I'm not upset with you if you're thinking that I am, Neal," he said. "You're my husband. I'd do anything for you and I'm trying, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry that I kept waking up," he said thickly, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. "I don't know what the hell my problem is."

Hushing the younger man, Peter said, "There's nothing wrong with you, darling."

Neal didn't really agree with that, but he didn't feel up to arguing with Peter at the moment. It was bad enough that he was reliving his rapes, but with a sickening twist—and a little more violence. He didn't need to hurt Peter at the same time. He just kept quiet even after Hannah and Nicky came downstairs—even after he and Peter dressed themselves properly and brought the twins down.

Nicky was watching his father and had been doing so since coming down to see him frowning. He'd seen Neal like that before Peter came into their lives, but he'd rarely seen it since then. It made him wonder if something happened between his fathers during the night. He'd heard Neal once throughout the night. Now that he was thinking about things, he wished he'd gone out to see if his dad was okay. "Dad, are you okay?" he finally asked when his father's silence began to bother the hell out of him.

"Yeah, kiddo. I'm just fine."

One look at Peter immediately told Nicky that Neal was lying. Peter was concerned and looked a little upset himself, but his focus was solely on Neal. "Don't lie to me."

The teenager knew he'd gone too far when Neal snapped, "It's none of your business, Nicolas."

Peter immediately leaned forward before Neal could say anything else he'd regret later. "Take it easy," Peter whispered, gripping Neal's left shoulder. He rubbed his husband gently, keeping an eye on him. Neal was irritable because he felt like he'd messed up and Peter wasn't admitting that he did. Peter just wished Neal would realize that he hadn't done anything wrong at any point during the night. "He's just concerned, Neal."

Neal shifted Brie out of his lap and growled, "He's my God damn fifteen year old son. He shouldn't be concerned about me," as he left the room, storming into the kitchen to be alone.

Peter, his parents, and Nicky were all stunned. Just as Peter was going to set Joey down on the floor beside Brie, Jon put his hand out and said, "I'll talk to him." Peter frowned, but nodded. He wanted to be the one to comfort Neal, but he knows his father loves Neal as much as he does.

Jon headed out into the kitchen and the first thing Neal said was, "Fuck off, Peter."

"What if I'm not Peter?" Neal spun, eyes wide, and immediately looked apologetic. "Son, is there something you'd like to get off your chest? It isn't like you to snap at both your son and your husband within moments of each other."

Neal bowed his head, looking really ashamed of himself. "I don't know why I snapped at them," he whispered. Jon nodded and neared Neal. He was surprised that Neal wasn't trying to shy away from him. "Jon, have you ever tried to protect the people you love from yourself?" Jon's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand what Neal was asking him. "Have you ever tried to push all of your internal issues aside and bury them to protect your family?"

Jon nodded. "I've done it in the past. Our family was going through some things when Peter and Cara were younger, but I had to act like none of it affected me so it wouldn't affect them—so it wouldn't hurt them." Staring at his son-in-law concernedly, he asked, "What are you trying to protect your family from?"

"I wish I… If I could erase my memories of being raped and tortured, I would take the opportunity without hesitation." Glancing out towards the other room, he added, "I love them, Jon. Nicky is my baby—my biological baby—and Peter's my husband. They and the twins are my life. I don't like being this…depressing man. I don't like bringing Peter down nor do I like exhausting him because I'm waking him up as a result of my night terrors."

"He doesn't regret being there to help you through them, Neal. I know he'd do it all over again for you because he loves you—nightmares and all." He gave Neal a small smile and whispered, "Believe me when I say Peter wishes he could erase those memories, too, Neal. If you could be relieved of your painful memories, I'm sure things would be easier for you to live with."

Neal shrugged, meeting Jon's eyes directly. "I just want to protect them, especially our kids. I don't like acting this way with Nick. He did nothing wrong. He's just worried about his daddy…"

Jon moved in to embrace the younger man the moment Neal's eyes watered as his lips trembled. Neal automatically clung to Jon, crying quietly as he clutched the fabric of Jon's shirt in his fists. "They love you no matter what," Jon promised him. "Peter is so in love with you, Neal. I'm not sure if you noticed, but he hasn't been able to take his eyes off of you since you came down." He rubbed Neal's back and kissed his neck. "He'll never leave you. You could keep him up all night and he'll still love you to death. I know my boy, Neal. Peter isn't going to leave you because of what you've gone through and what you're still going through." He smiled faintly as he added, "Peter isn't going to leave you period."

Breathing shakily, Neal asked, "What would he do if I left to protect him?"

"He'd chase you to the ends of the earth, Neal. You're everything to him and he wants you in his life—he wants to be in yours." Closing his eyes, he listened to Neal breathe heavily. This was an ongoing issue with Neal. Just as he thought everything was okay, things went to hell and he relapsed. Every time it happened, he had the urge to run—to protect his husband and his children from himself. "Don't you dare run away, Neal George Burke," he said. "Peter won't be the only one looking for you, kid."

Neal laughed lightly and nodded against Jon. "Every time I talk to you, I see so much of you in Peter," he murmured. "He's definitely your son, Jon, and I'm grateful for that. You're both wonderful men."

"As are you, Neal. Don't sell yourself short. You're a very wonderful man." He kissed Neal's neck one last time before whispering, "You get out there and talk to your husband and son, Neal. They're here for you because they want to be. Let them help you instead of shying away from them, okay?"

The younger man nodded as he backed away to rub his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, "for always giving me some kind of advice when you're talking to me."

They returned to the living room where the rest of their family was waiting for them and Peter's eyes immediately locked onto Neal's. Neal could see the love and concern in his eyes and he knew Jon was right. He knows Peter wouldn't leave him, especially not over something like this. Peter wishes he could change Neal's past because he hates what Vincent and Craig did to him. He wouldn't leave Neal after promising him so many times that he'd never walk away because he loves Neal too much.

In Peter's eyes, he found warmth and affection. Peter rose up from the couch and moved towards him then, tentatively pulling him into a gentle embrace. In Peter's arms, he found unconditional love and security. With Peter in his life, he believed he had the only man who could ever possibly love him after learning about his past. He knows he has the only man who would strive to prove his love time for Neal time and time again if it were put into question. "I love you," he whispered near Neal's ear. "And I'll always love you, Neal. I love you more every day."

"I know," Neal whispered, "and I hope you know that I love you more with each and every day that passes, too, Peter Michael."

"I do," Peter said softly, smiling a little. "We're meant to be together, Neal. Don't believe otherwise—ever."

•◊•

"You know I'll never tell you that you can't open up to me, right?"

Neal glanced up as Peter came down to his desk. It was Monday morning and, after a very long weekend, they'd made it. Neal hoped and prayed that he wouldn't endure more night terrors when he went home with his husband and slept in their bed with him. The last two nights proved to be hell on them both. "Yes. Why?"

Peter sat on the edge of Neal's desk and Neal turned in his chair, focusing on his husband entirely. "I've been thinking," he whispered, "and I hope you know that you never have to keep anything to yourself. I'm not saying you can't have privacy. All I'm saying is that I don't want you to hurt yourself emotionally or physically." He messed with his watch nervously as he said, "You're my husband and I want to help you through something as best I can."

Rolling his chair closer to Peter, he took Peter's hands in his, resting them on Peter's lap. "I'm sorry if I made you think I'm unwilling to talk to you about things," he said quietly. "I've really appreciated you through all that you've done for me, Peter. Waking me up from those nightmares has helped considerably because I don't get to see the outcome." Peter frowned, looking down at their hands. "You wake me up to reality. The reality of my life is with you—with our family. I'm safe, cared for, loved… I'm able to focus on being a father, a husband, and an FBI agent. I don't need to focus all of my energy on worrying that I'm hurting you or worrying that a psychopath will kidnap our son…"

"You've never hurt me," Peter insisted. "If either of us has been hurt by the other, it's you. I've hurt you considerably in several different ways that I regret." He rubbed his thumb over Neal's wedding ring, lifting his gaze to meet Neal's eyes again. "Reading your journal, accusing you of cheating on me, criticizing you… Neal, you've been the most faithful man I've ever met."

Neal scoffed, shaking his head. "I've had sex with two other men since we got together."

Peter glared and Neal shrank into himself a bit as his face heated up. "They don't count. Those monsters did unspeakable things to you. What they did wasn't consensual by any means, Neal. No matter what you think, you did not consent to rape," he whispered fiercely. "They forced you. You never willingly had sex with either of them, Neal, so you've been faithful to me." He intertwined their fingers and leaned forward as he said, "You've always been a faithful man, Neal. I know you're monogamous regardless of who you're with. Doing anything with more than one partner disgusts you, so I've never concerned myself with you bringing another man into our bed."

"Because I can't love two men at the same time and I can't bring someone into a place I cherish with the man I love." Peter smiled at him lovingly and Neal returned it. "Besides, what else could I want? I have a man who loves me as I am, a man who respects me, a man who would give anything to protect me."

"I'd die for you," Peter whispered.

"Live for me," Neal countered with a very small, teasing smile. "I want you to live for me. If you die for me, I'll be miserable."

Peter chuckled, nodding. "You don't even have to tell me what you'd do for me. I've seen it in action." Neal wanted so desperately to curl up with Peter somewhere and just relax in that moment. "You're everything I want, Neal. Thank you for being mine—for giving me everything you have to offer." Before Neal could say anything, Peter added, "I will be here through the good times and the bad. No matter what happens, you are still my everything."

Neal smiled softly and whispered, "You've always been everything to me, but you do share that place in my heart with our little ones." Peter chuckled, grinning at him. "Thank you for being patient with me, Peter. I don't understand how you can put up with me at times. I'm not sure I could do it. Sometimes, even I can't put up with me."

"And that, my love, is why I'm your husband. You can't deal with yourself at times and it's my job to show you the proof that you're worth it." He scooted off of the desk and kissed Neal's forehead right there in the bullpen. "You've been worth it and I have never, for even a moment, believed otherwise." Neal smiled up at the older man, finding himself thanking God for giving him a guardian angel. "I don't regret falling in love with you. I don't regret marrying you. I don't regret raising three children with you." Blushing a little, he whispered, "I don't regret anything I've ever done with you in or out of our bedroom."

"I certainly hope you don't," Neal teased. "You're a very passionate man in both environments."

Peter smirked, slipping his right hand out of Neal's left. He patted Neal's cheek before caressing his warm skin. "I'm only passionate because I have a man I love being with. I've been around other men who bore the shit out of me. You tend to keep my life interesting."

Laughing, Neal asked, "Men on the job or are you attempting to see others?"

"Men on the job, you dork," Peter said, rolling his eyes. "The probies are so fucking dry. You were more interesting as a probie than they are."

"That's because we were having sex."

Peter gaped at him, flushing a deeper shade of red. "That's so not true, Neal George."

"Burke," a deep voice called out, interrupting their conversation. Both Neal and Peter glanced up at Reese in question. "Peter," he clarified, gesturing for Peter to come to him.

"Back in a few, I hope," Peter murmured, rubbing his thumb over Neal's cheekbone before making his way up to Reese's office.

Neal watched them for a few moments after the door closed, but it didn't look like Reese was saying anything that infuriated Peter, so Neal went back to doing his work. He had a few cases he needed to work on and write reports for. After being in DC, he had some catching up to do.

"Fuck," he whispered when he opened one of his folders. This was a case from nearly a month ago that he still hadn't resolved. Reese would probably comment on that later, but Peter would more than likely stick up for him and ask Reese to give him an excuse for that particular case.

"Neal." His name was said with so much bitterness, resentment, and anger that his stomach began to churn when he looked up. Peter stormed down into the bullpen and stopped directly in front of Neal's desk. Neal stared up at his husband, wide-eyed and slightly afraid. "Where did you take Rebecca when you took her out of our home?" Neal was confused, wondering why Peter was upset with him about this. "Where the hell did you take her?"

Neal stammered, "Her parents house. They said she'd be taken care of there." Swallowing hard, he asked, "Why?"

Peter came around to stand beside Neal, slamming a folder down onto the desk. He opened it up and showed Neal the reason he was pissed off. "Because Rachel Turner is formerly an agent in MI-five." Neal stared at the folder in disbelief, moving it towards himself to make sure Peter read that correctly. "Neal, she's a professional killer. She could have killed you at any God damn moment and neither of us would have seen it coming." Neal had no words. He just couldn't believe this. "I think everything she went through was a lie, Neal."

"But she…"

He remembered Rebecca saying, "It isn't rape if I ask you to do it." She'd cornered him then and attempted to seduce him, attempted to make him have sex with her even though Peter was just around the corner in the other room. Now that he thought about it, she was probably lying about it all.

"Holy shit," he whispered. Peter gripped Neal's shoulder, giving him a concerned look now. "Everything was a lie. The rape, her love for me, her…" He honestly didn't believe himself when he said that her love for him was fabricated because she seemed like she genuinely wanted him. "She's six years younger than me." He turned to his computer and immediately searched something. He remembered reading an article a few years ago about a man who was raped. He read it for obvious reasons, but he'd been curious because the man claimed to have been raped by a woman. Upon finding the article, he reread the details the man had given about his perpetrator in his statement. "She forced someone to have sex with her before."

Peter leaned forward and read the article, and then he looked at his husband. "She knew you were raped before she met you," Peter guessed. "She tried to get close to you—like that man said. He was drugged when she claimed to be an escort. Assuming this is Rachel, she knew what she was doing. The man here was probably one of her many underground contacts she interacted with anonymously and she took advantage of that."

Neal's throat was dry as he said, "She was going to force me to have sex with her." Peter squeezed Neal's shoulder even as his rage was becoming unbearable. "She has to be with her parents still," he suggested, looking up at Peter. "She doesn't know that we know who she is. We can take her by surprise."

"Okay. I'll round up a team. You get ready to move and we'll head over."

Within ten minutes, the couple and seven other agents were en route to Rachel's parents' home. Neal immediately felt uneasy when he parked in front of the house. The two cars in the driveway both had all flat tires. "This isn't good," he whispered.

All agents were cautious. Peter sent five agents around to go in through the back, taking Neal and the remaining two agents with him through the front. "Keep your eyes and ears open," Peter whispered as they stopped near the door. Peter met Neal's gaze when they both realized the front door was already open. Peter burst through first with Neal right behind him. Since the two of them had been partners for a little over half of a decade, they knew each other's styles and they had a routine down. Neal covered Peter as Peter searched the house. The other seven agents were inside as well, but Neal wanted to stay with his husband. He wouldn't risk Peter's life by allowing some newbie to watch over Peter—not that Peter couldn't protect himself or anything, but Neal wanted to keep Peter safe nonetheless. "We've got two bodies," Peter said when they went into the kitchen together. Neal glanced over his shoulder to see Rachel's parents lying in pools of their own blood, staring up at the ceiling in surprise.

"Jesus Christ," Neal whispered. Peter still crouched beside the bodies and felt their necks for a pulse. He glanced up at Neal and shook his head. "She killed her own parents."

"Makes you wonder if they were the anonymous tippers." Neal gave him another confused look. "We had a tip that Rachel was in the city under an alias. The caller sounded worried, frightened even, according to Reese."

They heard the other agents calling out 'clear' in the other rooms, but Neal still felt sickened as he stared at the man and woman he'd left Reb—Rachel with. They'd seemed nervous when he dropped her off, but he hadn't thought anything of it until now. He realized now that he hadn't bothered to do a background check to see if they were actually her parents, but why would he have considered that? He couldn't think of any reasons as to why she'd lie about who her parents were. If these two weren't her parents, then he wondered why she'd killed them. "She's a fucking psychopath," Neal said, sounding disgusted. "My mother allowed Vincent to rape me for almost three years and I never considered ending her life like this."

Peter ignored him as he looked around for clues, knowing there had to be something to explain all of this somewhere. He didn't intentionally ignore his husband, but he didn't want to make a snarky 'I told you so' comment at the moment. He turned just as Neal was walking out of the kitchen. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Neal startled at the ferocity of Peter's voice. "I was going to look around the house a bit," he said slowly, feeling like he was in the wrong entirely.

"Do you honestly think walking away from me right now is the smartest thing to do? You have a potential target on your back, Neal George, and I don't want to let you out of my sight for even a second."

"Despite what you may think, I am capable of defending myself, Peter," Neal snapped. "I was only raped because I was protecting people I love. If I was the only one put into jeopardy, I could have protected myself. I had other lives on the line when they threatened me."

Peter looked really pissed off as he said, "She's a killer, Neal, and a sexual predator. She killed her own parents. Who's to say she won't kill you? Even if her feelings for you are genuine, she's twisted." Neal made a sound of disbelief and walked away. "Neal!"

"What?" he said exasperatedly, turning around as Peter chased him.

The older man gripped his husband's biceps, staring at him fearfully. "I don't want to let you out of my sight," he whispered. "I don't want her to hurt you, so please… Please stay with me."

"We have more than a handful of agents with us, Peter. I'm sure I'll be fine if I walk away for five minutes." Peter stared at Neal silently, pleading with him. "Peter, I love you for being so protective of me, but I'll be fine. I have my gun—and my GPS is enabled on my phone. You can easily check your own phone and see where I'm at."

Peter bit his lip, considering everything Neal said. His fear was warring with his rationale. He was so afraid of losing Neal again because he never knew if he'd get Neal back. He wasn't just afraid. He was fucking terrified by the thought that Neal would be abducted or killed. Neal went through enough already. That part of him wanted to lock Neal away in a very safe place that only he knew about so no one could ever take his husband away from him.

But he knew that wasn't fair to Neal by any means. Peter constantly reminds him that he's a man, that he's strong, and that he's a survivor. By implying that Neal couldn't protect himself if he walked away from Peter's side for a few minutes, he was insulting Neal's masculinity and his ability to survive on his own as well as his performance as an FBI agent. "Fine," Peter whispered. "Don't you dare go outside without me—and don't go too far."

"I promise," Neal whispered. He gave Peter a half smile, rubbing Peter's chest with the hand that wasn't holding his gun. "I love you and appreciate how much you want to protect me, but I'll be okay. As long as I know you're here to protect me if I need you, I feel safe."

"The second anything comes up, you better yell for me."

Neal teased him with a salute. "Yes, sir." Peter glared in response until Neal slid his arm around Peter and kissed him tenderly. "I love you, teddy."

"I love you, too, brat," Peter muttered, rubbing Neal's left hip. Neal chuckled when they parted and he smiled at Peter one last time before turning around to head into a different room. He intended on looking for clues as well because he wanted to actually do something helpful instead of become a liability.

Peter kept looking around the bodies for anything that may help them figure out Rachel's intentions and endgame.

It took him several minutes to stumble upon a discarded taser. Crouching down while pulling gloves on, he picked it up a moment later and observed it. On the opposite side of the taser, there was writing. There's always something waiting and even if it's bad, and you know it's bad, what can you do? It was part of a quote by Truman Capote as far as Peter was concerned and it took him mere moments to find the darker meaning—the darker intention that was not supposed to be conveyed in Capote's words. Neal cried out and the sound of a thud came moments later.

Peter gasped and dropped the taser, holding his gun tightly in his hands as he heard tires screeching outside. Guns were firing, but he knew it was too late. He ran outside and watched a white van with no plate speed away. "Agent Burke, we tried to—"

Peter didn't hear whatever else the agent was saying. It didn't register as he darted across the lawn and unlocked the Taurus, quickly getting into it. He didn't bother with a seatbelt and he was quick to start the car up. "God damn it," he growled, hoping his anger would override his fear because he wanted to save Neal. Fearing that Neal would be hurt wouldn't do him any good, but being enraged by Rachel would fuel his fire.

He was able to catch up to a white van several minutes later and he sped around it, figuring that it was a ruse for the van to be doing the speed limit with a hostage in the back of the van. The driver pulled over and Peter parked in such a way that the man driving the vehicle would have to damage the Taurus if he intended on driving off. He yelled for the driver to get out and the man was quick to do so, raising his hands immediately. "I didn't do anything, officer. I swear."

"FBI," he said tightly, additionally snapping, "Open the back of your fucking van right now." The man went around to the back of his van quickly since Peter's gun was drawn. He fumbled to unlock the doors and the moment he did so, Peter shoved him aside and peered into the back, frantically searching for his husband. "Neal," he whispered as he found nothing but a bunch of pastries in boxes. "Where the hell is Neal?" he cried out, panicking now. How could he have lost the van so quickly? This one had no plates on it either, but it had to be the same van his husband was thrown into.

His heart raced as he stared into the back of the van incredulously, not wanting to believe he'd lost his husband again. He shoved his gun into his holster and leapt into the van, shoving boxes aside in the hopes that Neal might've been covered by them in case someone wanted to inspect the van since it had no plate. "Sir?" the driver said tentatively.

"No," he whispered, repeating that single word several more times, his voice growing more and more frantic as he continued to move boxes. It was all for naught because there was no sight of Neal at all. Not only was his heart racing now. It was pounding and breaking simultaneously as tears welled up in his eyes and his breathing accelerated.

He couldn't have lost Neal so easily. He just couldn't have…

A/N: And that's the end of the second part of my Threads verse. I have one more story in progress that will contain sixty chapters like the two before it, but I'm very open to doing one-shots to complement parts of the story that anyone would like to read more about. I'll definitely take requests for those one-shots, so please feel free to leave comments at any time either on this chapter or in the third part if you have a sudden interest I can entertain.

As I said at the end of part one: I'd like to thank all of you who commented, followed, or added this story to your favorites. I wouldn't have been able to keep myself motivated if not for you! Your comments kept me inspired throughout, so thank you once again.
In addition, it meant a lot to have you comment on chapters even if you only did it once or twice. Your feedback is always appreciated. Thank you so much for readingTo Us the World is Differentas well as this part. Part three will be up soon!