Walking down a long creaky, dark hallway, Peter sneaks along with his gun pulled. He knows he shouldn't have went ahead of back up, but after hearing from Mozzie there was talk that Neal could be held here, he called it in and went straight here. He wanted to curse each board the creaked, wishing he could do this more silently...and thinking Neal would do so much better if their situations were reversed. Shaking his head, he knew he had to find his partner - he had been gone for eleven days now.

After checking out a couple days, Peter stands outside the last door in the hallway. Despite his faith being extremely lapsed, he found himself stating a small prayer before opening the door. Inside, he was shocked by what he saw...Neal lying un-moving on a small cot. Walking over, he placed his hand in front of his mouth and sighed in relief as he could feel breathing, though it was shallow. At least Neal was still alive and he knew it was going to be up to him to keep him that way.

"Neal, Neal!" said Peter with a rush to his voice. He had no idea how long they would have. "Neal, please, wake up!" He couldn't help but wonder why Neal hadn't moved from this position or left, considering he hadn't encountered any locked doors besides the one to the basement.

"Ugh." said Neal, obviously in pain and making Peter sorry he had to wake him.

"Neal, thank God." said Peter. "We got to get out of here. Can you stand?"

"Afraid I can't do that, Peter." said Neal, wincing in pain and almost wishing he was still unconscious as it had been a relief from the pain.

"What's wrong? You got to tell me." said Peter. "We have to get you out of here."

"Arm is broken. Same with leg." said Neal, between clenched teeth. "Left side."

Peter took a deep breath, trying to think of what to do. He had hoped Neal at least would be able to walk out of where ever he found him - and now realizing why whomever was responsible felt comfortable leaving Neal alone. Trying to be silent, he listened for any sounds besides Neal's labored breathing. Hearing nothing, but knowing they couldn't risk it, he ripped off his suit jacket and fashioned a very messy sling for Neal's arm, thankful the extra first aid training he had taken.

"Okay Neal, as much as it hurts, I need you to stand. I will support you as much as I can." said Peter, slowly helping Neal up despite his protests. "Fight through the pain, buddy."

"Ow fuck!" said Neal standing on his one good leg, feeling every rattle in his broken leg. Peter couldn't help but give his partner a look as he wasn't sure he had ever heard Neal curse. "I can't do this, Peter." Neal sat back down on the cot. "It hurts too badly...and I just remembered my ribs. I think they are bruised." In fact, Neal was confident at least a few were broken, but he knew Peter didn't need more to worry about right now.

Peter sighed, knowing he couldn't blame his partner. Looking around, he hoped to find some things he could work with. He remembered passing a couple plastic pipes in the hallway and ran to get them. Ripping up part of the sheet on the cot, he managed to fashion a makeshift splint for Neal's leg. He used the rest of the sheet to try to bind Neal's ribs a bit. "Okay let's try again. It's going to hurt, but you got to try."

Neal warily stood up, feeling dizzy. Peter wrapped his arm around Neal's good side and they slowly walked towards the door to the room they were in. They stopped as both heard noises down the hall. Peter couldn't help but hope it was the back up and not whomever was responsible for Neal's current condition. Making sure his gun was cocked, Peter took a deep breath and opened the door.