I had a little trouble writing this chapter - that's why it took so long - but I finally got it down.

This is the last chapter of this story, but fret not, I'm making a sequel! Yes, it's already in the planning stages. I have most of the plot worked out, but I just haven't written anything yet. I also don't know what to call it yet. Because I haven't written anything yet, I'll probably post a different story first.

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Once Neal laid down on the gurney in the ambulance, his energy seemed to leave him. The kid's life had been on the line twice that day, so Peter understood how trying the day had been for him. The paramedics poking and prodding made it so he never actually fell asleep, but at least he was safe now.

Neal threw up in the ambulance after he was given pain medication, probably due to the concussion he no doubt had, and the paramedics chose not to give him more for a while. Neal didn't seem happy about that, but he didn't seem to have the energy to complain.

Once they got to the hospital, Peter stayed with Neal whenever the doctors let him, and when he couldn't, he stayed right outside of the room, telling people that he was staying there to make sure Neal didn't make a run for it. That was one of the reasons, so it wasn't technically a lie.

After the CT scan and X-ray, Neal looked so out of it that Peter doubted that he could run if he wanted to. When the tests were over Peter put the tracking anklet back on, but he didn't leave. He couldn't have even if he wanted to - the kid looked so young and kinda pathetic lying on that gurney in the busy emergency room that he had to stay.

Neal had said that he didn't have anyone else to be there for him, but he hesitated for a split second when Peter asked, so Peter suspected that there was someone that would have come if asked, but he let it be.

The results came back and they confirmed that Neal had one broken rib, two cracked ones and quite the concussion. The gash that the handle of Ruiz's gun had caused required six stitches. The bruises on Neal's wrist weren't that bad, so the doctors didn't do anything with them. That didn't make Peter any less mad about it. Why did Ruiz feel that he needed to restrain Neal? And when did he? Peter would have to ask later, not just for his own curiosity, but Neal needed to make a statement to make sure all of the charges stuck to the bastard that never should have had a CI in the first place, or a badge for that matter.

While the nurses were settling Neal into his room, Peter took that time to get some coffee and a sandwich from the cafeteria. The coffee was too strong and the sandwich was dry, but he ate and drank them anyway, knowing that he needed to keep his energy up.

About that time Peter figured out that Neal still had his phone. He must have forgotten to give it back earlier. Peter wondered how many people had called him in that time. Elizabeth, Diana, Hughes, his boss. Word that Ruiz had been arrested probably made it back to his boss by then. He was probably wanting answers.

Peter went up to the third floor and quickly found Neal's room. Neal was awake when Peter walked in. The ex-conman smiled when he saw it was Peter who came through the door. He seemed to be quiet a bit more alert than the last time Peter saw him.

"Hey, how you feeling?" Peter asked as he sat down on the chair that was next to the bed.

"I managed to keep down the medication that they gave me a half an hour ago, so better than before," Neal responded. He had been extremely embarrassed when he threw up in front of Peter before.

Peter nodded. He could see that the younger man's face was more relaxed than before, the medication was doing its job.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about Ruiz?" Peter asked. Neal should have told someone the first time Ruiz hurt him.

"No one would have believed me," Neal said simply. He seemed a little bitter about it - rightfully so - but also accepting of the fact that people wouldn't believe him because he had a rap sheet. Peter really hated to think that, but it might have been true. Who would believe a conman over an FBI agent?

'Would've I listened to Neal if he came to me?' Peter wondered. 'Yes,' he decided. If Neal would have come to him and showed him proof that he was being mistreated, he would have at least looked into it.

There was a clear plastic bag with the hospitals logo on it on the bed, leaning against Neal's outstretched legs. It had Neal's clothing and belongings he had with him when he came in. Peter guessed his phone was in there as well.

Neal noticed where Peter's gaze was, so he took Peter's phone out of the bag with a wince and handed it to him.

"Thanks," Peter said as he pocketed the device. There was some dried blood on it, but Peter ignored it.

"It's been ringing on and off for a while. I didn't answer it though. I imagine there'll be some angry people on the other end wondering what happened earlier."

"A bit of an understatement," Peter muttered. He was going to have to do a lot of explaining later.

Neal sighed, a hint of sadness to it. "When should you call the Marshals?" he asked as casually as he could.

Peter looked at him questionably. "Why would I call the Marshals?"

"Well, I don't have a handler anymore, so I'm probably going back to prison," he said, looking more resigned than sad, like he was accepting his fate.

Peter hadn't even thought about that. Surely there was another way so the kid didn't end up in prison again. If the incident with Mendez was any indication, word about Neal working with the FBI was going around fast. "Do you think you'll be safe in there?" Peter asked, surprising both men.

"As long as I'm not going to the same prison as Ruiz, I'll be okay," Neal said, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Peter.

Both men were silent for several minutes.

"We could've made a great team, you and I," Neal said in a quiet voice, sounding a little sad.

That gave Peter a thought. He would have to talk to his boss when he left.

Peter hung around until Neal looked like he was going to fall asleep. Peter gave into the strange urge to pat Neal on the shoulder before he left. The younger man looked at peace when he left and Peter hoped he would be okay alone for the night.

Neal Caffrey was a mystery wrapped inside of an enigma and Peter wanted to know more about him and his motives. Like what kind of man breaks out of a maximum security prison with three months to go on a four year sentence for a woman? Kate must be one heck of a catch, or at least Peter hoped she was. Only a woman that loves Neal as much as Neal seems to love her deserves what he's willing to give her. His life, his freedom.

Peter wanted to know more about Neal and he hated the thought of him going back to prison, especially after everything he had gone through with Ruiz. Peter's idea would resolve both of those things.

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For a few hours, the only things Neal really registered were that there were far too many bright lights, the pain that seemed to be about everywhere and the doctors that kept asking him questions about his name and date of birth. Neal also noticed that there was a nearly constant and familiar presence with him through it all. It was nice to have someone there that wasn't determined to find every painful spot on his body.

Once he was given medication to combat the pain in his abdomen and the raging headache he had and they left him alone for a while, he got to close his eyes for a little bit. He was exhausted from not only the events of today, but everything that had happened recently. For the first time in weeks, Neal felt safe.

Then he realized that he didn't have a handler anymore. Would they send him back to prison now? Neal didn't know what they were going to to with him, and that worried him.

Neal was surprised that Peter stayed after the agent had put the anklet back on. There wasn't really a point for him to stay anymore, but then Neal remembered that Peter had come and seen him after he got shot a few weeks ago. The agent was nice to him, and he needed that at the time.

When Peter finally got up to leave, he patted Neal's shoulder in an almost fatherly way. It made Neal feel grounded, safe. He hadn't been given many gestures of comfort recently and he soaked it up for all it was worth.

He wouldn't be getting anymore for some time. Three years and nine months; one-thousand-three-hundred-seventy more lines on the white wall of his prison cell. At least he had some freedom, however short-lived.

Neal didn't know if he was going to try to escape again. He knew he couldn't try to escape the same way he did before. They were never going to give him a tape recorder again, or many other luxuries for a while, like informative books or a way to access the internet. He would have to find a new way out, but the guards would be watching him even closer than before.

He thought about enduring four more years, but the only reason he had planned to wait out his sentence was so him and Kate could live the life they always dreamed of - no running from the law and looking over their shoulder at every turn. And by the time he got out again, Kate's trail would be long cold.

Another problem was that word that he had been working for the Feds was going around quick. No one liked a snitch, even if they didn't have anything to do with their arrest. It had to do with a code amongst criminals, but Neal only ever had an obligation to protect a small group of people.

There was a lot to think about, but now he just wanted to sleep.

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When Peter got to the office, he went straight to his bosses office and began the speech he had rehearsed on the drive over. His superior listened to him, not saying a word until Peter was finished. Peter was hopeful, but then his boss shook his head and explained that he didn't think that employing a criminal to take down criminals would be a good idea. Peter didn't back down, though, and after two hours of debating, Peter got the green light to talk to Hughes, Neal and Ruiz's old boss, to see if he was willing to go along with Peter's plan.

But before he left to talk to Hughes, Peter asked his boss a favor. There was a certain tape that Peter wanted to borrow for a little bit. His boss agreed to help him get it if Hughes said yes to Peter's idea.

Hughes was a lot easier to persuade. Peter suspected that he also saw Neal's intelligence that he could redirect and do something good with his vast knowledge of cons and forgeries. He was the one that got him out of prison in the first place.

It took two days for the paperwork to go through as well as convicting a few more people that Peter could keep Neal under control. There was also the mess of Ruiz and his arrest that Peter had to deal with. Peter didn't want to tell Neal that he was trying to keep him out of prison in case it fell through, so he didn't tell him anything until everything was official. By that time, Neal was ready to leave the hospital.

When Peter entered Neal's room he saw that the ex-conman was dressed in the same dress shirt and slacks that he had on when he arrived at the hospital. The shirt had dried blood on the collar and the pants had some dirt on them, but he didn't have anything else to wear. The younger man was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed and looked painfully bored - absentmindedly swinging his legs; staring off in space - but his face lit up when he saw Peter.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" Neal said, surprised.

"Well, I figured that I'd make sure you're alive and kicking," Peter said lightly. Now that he was here, Peter didn't know how to tell Neal the good news.

"I know a man on a mission when I see one, and you, Peter, are a man on a mission," Neal said, still smiling. Either he was putting up a facade or he knew why Peter was here. Peter guessed it was the former, but he could be wrong.

Peter supposed there was no point in beating around the bush anymore. "I talked to Hughes and my boss, and after quite a bit of discussing, they decided to make me your handler," Peter said at length. He let the words sink in.

"I'm not going back to prison?" Neal asked, cautiously optimistic.

Peter shook his head. "Not unless you break the law...again," Peter said, but with only a hint of warning.

"I'll try, but I'm not going to make any promises," Neal said lightly.

"I think we can work with that," Peter said, nodding.

Neal smiled, wide and genuine. "Peter, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

Peter smiled back. He had read something about Neal loving the classics, or maybe it was the woman that loved them.

Neal jumped off the bed and Peter put an arm around Neal's shoulder as they walked out the door. He completely agreed.

The End

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"Louie, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship," is from Casablanca, a movie that has some similarities to Neal and Peter's relationship. I never watched it myself (I tend to veer from movies older than me, and ones that are black and white), but I've heard things about it. I felt that it fit pretty well with the situation.

'BatonWeildingCon' posted a 'prompt-esque thing' in the comments and I'm going to see if I can do anything with it. It's a very beautiful poem/prompt. You guys should read it. If anyone has any ideas they want me to work on, comment on this story or PM me. I have a few rules though: no non-con, death fics or slash. I really prefer Neal whump stories, but you guys can give me other stuff too. It's all I've written so far so I don't know if I'd be any good at anything else. You guys could send me story ideas or just scene ideas or anything.

Now, I may not write or post every story idea. I have over forty of my own that I've not posted so that tells you guys that I don't even post a lot of my own stuff, mostly because it's only little ideas. And forcing myself to write just doesn't work. I have to have inspiration to write for it to be able to be something good, so I have to wait until I'm in the right mood to write that story.

Your reviews made me smile! :-)