Chapter 5: Lost and Found

Peter woke up from his restless slumber to silence. Either it was a good thing, or a very bad thing. "Neal?" Peter gently touched his friend's cheek with one hand, and shook his shoulder with the other. "Neal, wake up buddy. Come on."

Neal stirred and lifted his hand to Peter's wrist. "Peter?"

"Attaboy," Peter smiled. He looked at Neal. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, with deep blue bags forming underneath. Despite already knowing the answer, he asked a pressing question. "You hanging in there?"

Neal coughed and sucked in a deep gulp of air. He winced and closed his eyes tightly as he attempted to sit up. That wasn't going to happen. Peter slowly eased his back to the floor. "Peter, I…" He paused. He placed a trembling hand on his stomach just below the swollen knife wounds. Fresh tears slid down his cheeks and his grip around Peter's wrist tightened. His shoulders shook violently. "I'm not gonna make it out."

Peter's expression changed, eyes widening in worry. "Don't talk like that Neal. You've made it this long, and they're gonna be here to get us any minute now. Just stay with me a little longer!"

Neal looked up into Peter's eyes. The father he never had, the brother who always had his back, the friend he trusted more than anyone else. "Thank you, Peter. You've done more for me than you'll ever know." Neal winced again, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his breath shortened.

Peter's eyes filled with tears. "Neal, you're gonna be okay. I promise."

Neal smiled, and slowly dosed off into a realm of blissful unconsciousness, his hand dropping to the ground from Peter's wrist. "Neal?" Peter shook him with both hands now, trying desperately to awake him from his slumber. "Neal, wake up. Neal? Please…" Peter wrapped his shaking arms around his friend, one hand on his shoulder blades and the other cupping the back of his head. He slowly gathered Neal up to himself in a gentle embrace and sobbed, tears dripping into Neal's hair. "Please hold on just a little longer. Just a little longer."

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

Diana and Jones took Peter's sudden disappearance as a call to immediate action. Peter was right, they didn't have any time to waste. It's not that they hadn't believed that Neal was taken, but now they had enough to go off of in order to take the kidnapper down; Peter had cleverly left a note saying where he was going, and that was enough for a search warrant. The entire team of FBI agents swarmed around the building, armed and ready to take back their two greatest assets. Jones locked his eyes with Diana's, gave a quick nod, and the entire team swiftly swarmed into he building.

There were about seven men in the building, and they all surrendered without question as the FBI's loaded guns pointed in their direction. Neal and Peter's kidnapper was among the seven, and it took two agents to get him into handcuffs. He swore and shot nasty insults at Jones as he was led away towards the vehicles. Diana and Jones looked around and searched every room in the building for their missing friends and finally found the dark musty room they had been confined in.

The opened the door and found Neal wrapped up in Peter's arms. Peter looked up, relief washing over his tear-stained face. "He's alive, just barely."

"Ambulance is on the way." With Diana's words came the glorious sound of Ambulance sirens. Everything was going to be okay. It had to be.

WCWCWCWCWCWCWCWC

Neal slowly opened his eyes. It was a difficult task, considering the fact that it felt as if they had been glued shut with cement. With his newfound consciousness came pain. His stomach felt as if it was on fire. What the heck had happened to him? He couldn't remember anything. All he knew in this moment was pain. A sense of relief seemed to be locked down somewhere inside of him, however. He couldn't for the life of him even begin to figure out why. Then, he heard Peter's voice.

"Good morning sleeping beauty. Rough night?" Peter stood up and walked over to the hospital bed. He slowly sank into the chair on Neal's right side and looked at his dear friend.

Neal attempted to sit up and winced, clutching his stomach. He let out a puff of air. "What happened to me?" Before Peter could answer, the memories flooded back to him like a tidal wave. He remembered everything. The kidnapping, the paintings, the torture, and Peter. Peter saved him. "Peter, I…" Words eluded him. He just looked at Peter, tears of gratitude filling his eyes.

"You're welcome." Peter smiled. "But Neal, I should be the one thanking you. The pain you went through, all to protect me. I could never ask for a better friend."

"Well, you know." Neal shrugged and smiled. "Without you, I wouldn't be the man I am today. I owed it to you."

Peter looked at the ground. They sat in silence. Finally Peter spoke, "Well, before it gets all misty in here…I have something for you."

Neal watched curiously as Peter turned around and grabbed something that had been stashed behind the chair. To Neal's surprise, Peter placed a canvas and painting tools in front of him. "What's this Peter? Are you going to hold me for ransom until I paint you something?" He smirked.

"That's not funny, Neal." Peter said, halfway hiding a smile. "This should keep you busy for the next week or so. After all, you'll be out of commission for a while."

"Thank you Peter…" Neal took the paintbrush in his hand and smiled. "For everything." As Neal got his supplies situated, his mind flashed over the past few months of his life. Working with Peter, creating beautiful art, having an assortment of "adventures," and living his life to the fullest. He looked out the window, dipped his brush into the color, and placed it against the is what he was born to do.

~I am so sorry about the delay everyone! I have been busy with school. The last few paragraphs of this story are a super cheesy…I kind of rushed through it so I could finally post the ending for you guys. I hope you enjoyed the story!~