Just a little silly idea that crossed my mind :)

But before we start, the disclaimer :- Yup, still don't own anything related to White Collar :( Hah! Who knows, maybe someday ;)

...

Neal Caffrey stumbled into one of the safe houses of Mozzie. He couldn't really remember which one of the safe house was it, whether Sunday, Tuesday or Monday for that matter. He sloppily locked the door and crumpled to the floor, panting. He somehow manuevered himself so that he was sitting against the wall beside the door with his legs sprawled out in front of him. Each movement was causing immense pain. He was sweating profusely and darkness was viciously trying to engulf him but he stubbornly kept it at bay.

The heist had gone terribly wrong. Well, actually the heist was successful but then the events that followed after, weren't. He and Ryan Wilkes had come together to steal a priceless gem from a museum for the famous mob boss Ray Stiles. Neal and Wilkes were successfully able to steal the gem but then Wilkes had decided to ditch Neal and run away with the gem himself so that he could present it to Ray Stiles and get Neal's part of the reward money too.

Neal was caught completely unawares when Wilkes had first, shocked Neal with a Tazer. The electric current that had surged through Neal's body had rendered him weak and even before he could wait out the effect of the shock, Wilkes had started punching the hell out of him. Wilkes attacked each and every part of Neal's body while he struggled helplessly to gain some control over the situation.

Neal was sure he had, in his haze of pain heard a sickening crack a couple of times when the boot of Wilkes had connected his ribs. Just when he thought that he couldn't take anymore, the punches and kicks ceased but then when Neal opened his pain filled eyes he saw a blurry image of Wilkes holding a long stick, some kind of a rod, maybe, Neal wasn't sure and he didn't dwell much on it because even before he could clear his vision, the rod or the stick, whatever was slammed right into his head, he felt like his head exploded into two and he saw stars and the next moment he was out cold.

Neal didn't know how long was he out but when he came to, Wilkes was long gone with the gem. Neal managed to get on to his feet and swayed dangerously. He chuckled because it was he who had the last laugh, literally. He pulled out the real gem from his sock, each movement causing excruciating pain and rolled it over in his palm and pocketed it again, this time in his pants pocket. Wilkes was going to be beyond mad but right now Neal had more pressing issues. He had to go somewhere safe and tend to his injuries.

...

And so here he was, sitting on the floor in one of the Mozzie's safe houses. He knew he should have gone to the doctor directly but he also knew that he couldn't. He would have been immediately arrested. He couldn't take that risk. He still had to find Kate. No, he wasn't going to jail before he found her.

He closed his eyes. Lighting was hurting him. Slowly he opened them again and he took the assessment of his injuries. He was sporting various bruises everywhere on his body. His right eye was swollen shut. The cut from his lower lip was still bleeding. Definitely he had a couple of broken ribs as he was having difficulty in breathing. He closed his eyes again. But his worst problem was the severe concussion. He knew it was severe because of the way he was keeping his eyes closed and the way he was feeling nauseous, tired and very sleepy.

He knew he needed help and he needed it quick. He fumbled for his cell phone and opened his left eye and tried to scroll through the numbers and search Mozzie's number. Through his blurry vision he found the number and dialed. It went straight to voicemail,

Okay, alright! You have reached this number so that means you definitely know me but, now that I know that you know me, then you would know on which other number you are to call me.

Mozzie's voice flooded in Neal's ears and Neal rolled his eyes, or at least tried to. Big mistake. The monster of a headache just went from hundred to thousand on the scale of pain. He whispered, "S.O.S." He ended the call. He was getting very tired and just wanted to sleep but somewhere in his mind he knew that if he slept then he wouldn't be waking up. He had to stay awake. He couldn't afford to sleep. He had to find Kate.

He fumbled with his cell once again. Mozzie told him to call on his other number but his fuzzy mind just couldn't remember that damn number. He just had to wait until Mozzie got his distress signal. He just had to stay awake till then. So he once again scrolled through the numbers on his phone, he blinked slowly to clear his vision and finally found the number he was searching for. He pressed call and waited. The person didn't pick up and the call ended. Neal sighed which was a bad move because it hurt his chest like hell. He tried the number again.

....

FBI agent Peter Burke was sleeping peacefully in his warm cozy bed with his wife El. His hands wrapped around her when suddenly the sound of the ringtone of his cell woke him up. He groaned and snuggled closer to his wife hoping that it was some stupid wrong number and the call would end soon. Well, the call definitely ended but then it started ringing again.

"Damn!" He muttered. He forced himself to unwrap his hands from his wife and turned to the opposite side and clumsily picked up his cell from the bedside table. He peeked open his one eye and stared at his cell. No, not stared, glared. The digits showing on the screen were not at all familiar with Peter. He cursed. Definitely a wrong number. He was about to abort the call but then something inside him told him to answer it.

He lazily swiped the answer button and dragged the cell to his ear and grumbled, "Hello, Agent Burke."

Neal smiled but then regretted as his split bleeding lip protested. "Somebody's grumpy." He teased.

"I'm sure, buddy, that you haven't called me to discuss my mood swings in the middle of the night. So why don't you tell me who you are and what you want?" Peter replied in a flat tone. He was in no mood for any nonsense.

"Aw..you wound me, Peter! And here I thought that we had a nice little thing going on between us." He said in mock disappointment. Each word he uttered was leaving him more and more breathless.

"Caffrey!" Peter shot up from his bed. El on hearing Peter squeal woke up and shifted herself on her elbow and asked sleepily, "Hon? What is it?"

Peter shook his head and gestured El to go back to sleep and when El just did that, Peter stroked her soft hair and got out of the bed. He tossed the cell on the bed and quickly put on the sweatpants lying at the bottom of the bed, deciding to forgo his T Shirt. He picked the cell and padded out of the room closing the door behind him.

He bounded down the stairs and plopped on to the couch. He didn't know whether Neal was still on the other side of the call or not, so he asked again, "Caffrey?"

"Right..here, Peter." Neal replied straight away though his voice was weak.

"Where the hell are you calling from? Why have you called in the first place? Or is it one of your those calls that you make just to chitchat? Let me tell you that it's very late in the night, Caffrey. I need to sleep." Peter rambled on, not registering how weak Neal sounded.

"Sorry, Peter." Neal replied after a long pause just when Peter was thinking that maybe Neal finally came to his senses and aborted the call.

This time Peter did notice how off Neal was sounding. He quickly asked, "Hey, you alright, Caffrey?" Yup, later, he will blame his sleep deprived state that he had asked the question.

"Wow.. Peter.. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you are worried about me." Neal replied, trying to sound amused but it came out pained.

"Seriously, Neal.. Are you okay?" Peter asked, ignoring Neal's cheeky reply but not ignoring the pained tone.

Neal's first instinct was to lie but then the compassion that he heard in Peter's voice made him tell the truth. "No, Peter." He said softly but Peter heard.

"What? Are you hurt? Where are you hurting?" Peter asked apprehensively.

"Everywhere.." Came Neal's soft whisper.

Peter's gut clenched. He didn't know why but he didn't like the thought of a hurt Neal sitting somewhere alone and talking to him instead of being in the hospital. "Shouldn't you be in the hospital, Caffrey, instead of talking to me?"

"Seriously, Peter, what is wrong with you? Do you actually think that I can go to a hospital and not get caught?" Neal asked, each word slurring.

Peter ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Okay, then call somebody. Tell me where are you? I will come and help you."

"Tried calling a friend but didn't get through. But I am sure he will come as soon as he gets my message. You, Peter, you are too far away." Neal replied stuttering.

"Neal? Do you have a concussion? Is that why you called? So that you don't fall asleep?" Peter asked, noting how Neal was slurring with each word and how tired he was sounding by the minute.

"At least you got that one right, Peter." Neal replied.

"What else, Neal?" Peter pressed on.

"Um.. Couple of broken ribs, I guess.. Split lip.. Eye is swollen shut.. Knee is hurting...bruises everywhere..." Neal replied slowly but then paused. Talking was tiring him.

Peter gasped softly. Neal was hurt bad. Peter decided not to dwell on that thought as Neal needed to keep talking to stay awake. "So, why call me? Why not your friends?" Peter asked in confusion.

"I don't why I called you but I.. It just felt right. I guess...You're the only one.." Neal whispered and then paused to catch his breath.

Peter urged, "The only one what, Neal?"

"You're the only person in my life I trust. Not even Kate or Mo..." Neal stopped before he could utter Mozzie's name. Mozzie would kill him if his name came in the system.

Peter unconsciously smiled. "Okay, Neal, so that's what we are going to do, alright. We are going to talk until help arrives."

Neal nodded. Peter waited to for Neal to reply. After a few seconds, when Neal didn't answer, Peter's heart skipped a beat. "Neal?...Neal?" He called out loudly.

Neal jerked open his left eye. When had he closed it? " Yup..Peter..right here."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't close your eyes, alright!" Peter admonished him.

"Yeah, trying, Peter. " Neal answered, this time instantly.

"So, how did you get hurt, Neal?" Peter asked keeping the conversation going.

Neal shook his head. A groan left his lips. "Job gone wrong, Peter."

"And look where that has landed you? Why do you do such things?" Peter lashed out.

"Who cares, Peter. I mean, it's not about the money, it's about the people."

Peter rolled his eyes. "And I suppose that you won't be telling me about that job?"

"Nope! You the FBI agent between us, Peter. Go figure out yourself." Neal replied as he tried to settle in a position that was less painful but sadly he didn't find any.

"You know I will one day! The day's not far when I finally get you." Peter replied with determination.

Neal chuckled, though to Peter it sounded as a grimace. "I can't say that I'm eagerly waiting for that day, Peter." He coughed and then was mesmerized by the speckles of the crimson drops that were splattered over his beige colored pants.

"Where's your girlfriend, Neal? Kate Monroe, right? Shouldn't she be with you?" Peter continued.

"Um.."Neal finally was out of his trance only to feel deep pain in his heart. "She.. She left, Peter..."

"She left?" Peter asked in confusion.

"Yeah.. But...but.. I will get her back. I will. " Neal replied after a long gap of silence. Another few seconds passed in silence. Peter was contemplating on what to say next. How to keep the conversation going on but then he heard Neal's surprised tone.

"Um..Peter, I think I am coughing blood." Neal was once again staring at the crimson liquid decorating his pants.

"Shit!" Peter swore in shock. The broken ribs! They must have torn an internal organ. Peter prayed silently that the organ wasn't vital. "Relax, Neal. Everything will be okay. I promise."

Neal remained silent for long seconds but then nodded while replying, "Yeah, trust... You... Peter."

"This friend of yours? Will he come? Should I call 911?" Peter asked noting the delay in Neal's reply.

Neal didn't answer. The silence streched. Peter began to get worried. He called out, "Hey, Neal?... Neal?" No reply. "Damnitt!" He growled and shot out of the couch and began pacing. Neal was apparently unconscious, God knows where and, Peter, he was here in his warm, cozy house, feeling utterly helpless.

"Neal..Come on, answer me, buddy, please...Neal!" He practically yelled Neal's name.

Neal stirred. He once again opened his eye. The good eye. Damn! He had fallen asleep again. He coughed again and again a few droplets of blood escaped his lips.

"Right here, Peter." Neal gasped out.

"Don't you scare the hell out of me like that again, okay!" Peter ordered. He finally found himself relaxing a bit.

"Admit it, Peter, you are worried about me." Neal teased Peter but secretly his heart was warmed at that thought.

"Yeah, well, I am kind of enjoying this little game of ours. This cat and mouse chase. So, I would really like it to go on a bit longer before I finally apprehend you. So yeah, I'm worried." Peter replied even though his answer was far from the truth.

Neal smiled. Instantly catching the lie in Peter's voice. Suddenly, he realized the room's temperature had dropped. Or was it him? He shivered. "I'm...cold..Peter.." He said shuddering.

"Damn!" He's going into shock. Peter thought. "It's alright, Neal. Just hang on for a little while longer, okay. Helps coming." Peter assured, to Neal or to himself, he didn't know.

Neal nodded slowly, each word getting hard to be processed. He licked his bleeding lip. He grimaced. It tasted like copper. He coughed again, blood dripped down his chin from his mouth and his chest contracted in awful pain. His eye began to droop. His hand flopped on to his thigh. He felt the fingers curled around the cell loosen. Everything became a blur and suddenly he couldn't hear anything clear. Somebody was shouting at him? He wasn't sure.

His eyes unconsciously travelled down to his cell. Was he talking to someone? He couldn't be sure. He swiped the end button anyway. He was so damn tired. He just wanted to sleep. His eyes slid shut and his final thought before passing out was that somebody was knocking urgently.

...

"Neal...Neal.." Peter called out. Neal never answered. Peter brought his cell in front of his eyes to check whether the call was still on or not. Damnitt! The call had ended. What was he supposed to do now? Why had Neal ended the call? Was he still awake? Had help finally came? All these questions were swimming in Peter's mind. He looked at the screen of his cell once again. He wasn't sure if Neal would answer his call or not but then he was way too worried about him, so Peter left all his doubts aside and called.

'The number you are trying to reach is no longer a working number.'

Peter muttered a curse and flung his cell on to the couch in frustration where it settled without any damage. Peter started pacing again. He ran both his hands through his hair. Now what? He asked himself. How was he supposed to know how was Neal? No matter what he thought, he knew he would never know about Neal unless and until Neal himself called again. That is, if he survived. "Damnitt, Neal!" He cursed out loud.

He shook his head in defeat and decided to go join his wife in the bed and get some sleep. But who was he kidding with? He knew that he wasn't going to get sleep at all until he found out about Neal's condition. He knew calling the hospitals around the country asking for one Neal Caffrey was going to be an utter waste of time. Neal himself had told that he wouldn't be going to the hospital. Peter just hoped that whoever friend Neal had called had arrived and Neal's injuries were taken care off in time. Huffing a sigh, he went upstairs and joined his sleeping wife in the bed but as he had predicted, sleep was as elusive as one Neal Caffrey, about whom Peter was worried to death.

...

Fifteen days went by. Fifteen days went by and Peter still didn't have a clue about how Neal was. Peter had tried his best to find out about the conman but it seemed that Neal had hidden himself well. While Peter was really impressed by Neal's talent of being hidden, he was getting antsy day by day. Only one thought seemed to have occupied his mind. How was Neal Caffrey doing? He wished that he could get at least one clue, just one to be sure that Neal was still alive.

Peter was finally rewarded the next day. He and El were in the kitchen of their home, eating their breakfast. Well. El was eating while Peter was trying very hard. El who was constantly aware of her husband's behavior these past fifteen days had enough. She took a deep breath and spoke,

"Hon, it would be better if you could just pick up the fork and actually eat your eggs rather than me shoving it down your throat."

Peter gaped at El in surprise, "El..?"

"Come on, Peter! Enough is enough now. Its been fifteen days. Don't you think its long time enough to stop brooding."

"I'm not brooding." Peter replied scowling.

El just glared and Peter sighed in defeat. "El, hon, you know everything. I.. I just can't rest until I know how is Neal."

El huffed, "Peter, you are an FBI agent. You haven't heard anything about Neal's death yet. So I'm sure he is alive and kicking."

Peter stared at his wife. "Well, that's putting it mildly." He poked aimlessly at his eggs with his fork.

El sighed and got up and walked around Peter and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. "I know, honey, that you are worried but please, stop this, already. I am sure he's fine." She punctuated the sentence with a kiss to Peter's head.

Before Peter could reply, the doorbell rang. Peter twisted himself and looked at his wife. "You expecting somebody?" El shook her head in negative. Peter nodded and got up and headed out to open the door. Anything to save himself from getting the breakfast shoved down his throat.

...

Peter opened the door and was confused when at first he didn't see anyone. But then instinctively his eyes lowered and they locked in to the basket filled with the bottle of Borduex 82, that was sitting outside his door. He frowned. Who had left the basket there at his door. He bent down and gently lifted the basket and went inside.

El who had come out of the kitchen was surprised too. "Honey? Who sent that? It's an expensive wine."

Peter shrugged his shoulders. He placed the basket on the table nearby and lifted the bottle of wine in his hand. There was a note attached to it. He unfolded the paper and read,

'Thank you, Peter.'

Peter smiled slowly at first but then his entire face lit up. It was like he was smiling like this after a long time. El stared at her husband in shock.

"Honey, you are smiling?" She asked tentatively. Even she realized the same thing that her husband was smiling after a long time.

Peter's smile turned into a soft laughter. "He's okay, El. Neal, he's okay." He placed the bottle back in the basket.

El looked at the bottle and asked skeptically, "That bottle told you that?"

Peter laughed more, "Yeah.. Yeah." Suddenly his cell began ringing. He quickly pulled it out and stared at the screen. Again the digits that flashed on the screen were totally unfamiliar to him. He shook his head, smiling and answered, while El picked up the wine bottle and went in the kitchen.

"Neal!" That was when Peter realized that Neal Caffrey was no longer 'Caffrey' to him but only 'Neal'.

"Hey, Peter.." Neal's cheerful voice drawled out.

"You are alive!" Peter chuckled.

"You are happy!" Neal said in an amused tone.

"Yeah..yeah.." Peter replied.

"Wanna share?" Neal asked sincerely.

Peter shook his head and asked Neal a question of his own instead, "So, your friend came?"

Neal's reply was immediate, "Yeah..yeah that he did."

"For the record, I am glad that he did." Peter said, his voice filled with compassion.

There was a long silence on the other side of the call and Peter thought that Neal had ended the call but then Neal's soft voice came through.

"Thank you, Peter. Thank you for talking to me the other night." Peter smiled, knowing that Neal meant each and every word that he had spoken.

"Yeah, well, like I said before, don't wanna ruin this cat and mouse game of ours."

Neal chuckled, "And I wouldn't have it any other way either, Peter."

"So, it means that I am still going to catch you, you know?" Peter asked confidently.

"Yeah, keep trying, Peter. I have all the worlds time." Neal replied smiling.

"See you soon, Neal."

"Not sure about that, Peter." Neal replied with a smile and ended the call

Peter was still smiling when the call ended. He had been researching on the kid since a long time and had met him only once outside the bank, when he had given him the sucker but after that late night call, the kid had somehow grown on him.

He sighed. No matter how charming Neal Caffrey was, Peter was an FBI agent and he had a job to do. He scrolled through the numbers on his cell that was still in his hand and found the number he was looking for and dialed.

"Peter?" Jones answered.

"Hey, Jones. I want you to gather as much information as possible on Kate Monroe."

"Kate Monroe? Isn't she Neal Caffrey's girlfriend?"

"Yeah. Find out everything about her. Everything. My gut feeling says that she will lead us to Neal Caffrey!"

...

...The End...(Or the beginning?)

...

I really hope that you enjoyed this little fic. Please review and let me know :)

I will update Lost and Found soon :)