Hello! I just watched the season finale, and might I say it was AWESOME! I liked the ending too.

Anyways, I thought about this after I watched the NCIS episode "Truth or Consequences" which is an awesome episode by the way.

Summary: What if Peter hadn't made it in time, and Adler shot Neal? Warnings: A considerable amount of violence, torture, language, and some gruesome scenes.

Turn back now if this is not your thing!

Rated: A very strong T!

Genre: Angst/Tragedy

Words: 1,356+

Inspiration: As usual, Coldplay's "Fix You"

For those who have chosen to continue, please review and enjoy this story

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(each chapter title is a Coldplay lyric)

Chapter One: When you Lose Something that you Can't Replace.

"Damn it!" growled Peter. "Where the hell is Neal?" The smoke was rising further into the sky, and the air began to smell of sulfur. Fire trucks sounded in the distance.

"Boss, do you want us to go searching?" Diana asked, drawing her gun.

"No, stay here. And be prepared in case I call for back up." He commanded, the frustration and worry setting in. Peter sighed.

Peter jogged off, gun in hand, in the direction of the smoke.

"Neal!" He called, his voice sounding angry.

He called a few more times, with no response, the worry beginning to show in his voice the final time he called. His voice echoed off the buildings each time he shouted.

The smoke clouded his vision, and made him cough. He stumbled around in the dark for a few moments. His foot landed in something sticky. He looked down, and his breath caught in his throat.

The liquid was reddish and sticky. It was blood, which formed a pool around a bloodied black fedora. The rim of the hat was drenched in blood. There was a smeared mark of blood right next to the pool. A shell casing was near the hat, which indicated a shooter. Thoughts raced through Peter's head, considering the different situations Neal had gotten himself into. He continued to search around the streets. There were several more blood stains heading north, and a bloodied hand print on the side of the building. Neal's anklet had been cut next to the handprint, and it lay broken and beat up in the dust and debris.

Peter felt vomit rise in his throat, and anger boil around deep inside of him. Neal had gone off to play hero, and had gotten his ass kicked for it. Now he was gone, possibly with a bullet wound in him. But what scared Peter was the fear that his friend wasn't alive. The fear of the unknown.

The building erupted fire once more, and pieces of paintings rained down around him. Peter didn't even bother to duck. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the handprint. A piece of painting landed beside him, and he looked down.

The piece was a face of a beautiful blue eyed woman, whom Peter presumed to be Kate. He bent down and picked it up, pocketing the piece. A few feet away, he heard a cell phone ringing. He raced to find it.

It was Neal's Blackberry. He quickly pressed the send button.

"Adler. What the hell do you want? Where is Neal?" He shouted into the phone.

"Slow down there, Agent Burke. I have no intention of harming Neal, as long as I receive what I want." Vincent answered back, coolly.

"Damn it Adler. What do you want?"

"I want what was taken from me. I will give you three hours to find it, and return it to a location which I will send you via Neal's phone."

"And what if I don't do it?" Peter held his breath awaiting a reply.

A mangled scream came over the line. Peter sucked in a breath.

"Stop!" He screamed, "Stop it! I will give you what you want."

"Three hours, or Neal dies." The line was cut off.

Peter dialed another number, "Diana. I need back up. We have a man MIA."

"Sending my team over now. Who is it?" Her voiced sounded slightly concerned.

"I will tell you when you get here. Hurry, please."

"On it, Boss." She shut off the phone.

A couple minutes later, the crew arrived guns ablaze.

"Did you find him boss?" asked Diana, holstering her gun.

Peter looked at her. The look on his face was one of anguish.

"Neal's gone. He's been kidnapped, by Adler. They are torturing him, Diana."

A gunshot cracked in the distance, and Peter felt like he was taking a bullet to his heart.

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Pain erupted like a raging fire in his ribcage, and Neal unwillingly awoke from his restless slumber. Trying to quiet the pain, Neal tried to reach for his chest, but his hands were roughly tied behind his back. His wrists felt blistered, and rubbed raw. The pain in his chest was almost unbearable, and Neal wanted to succumb back into the blissful unconsciousness.

Neal looked down, and saw that his white dress shirt was drenched in blood. The blood was clotting near his ribcage. Seeing his own blood made Neal feel sick, but Neal refused to throw up, and swallowed hard. Black spots danced across his vision.

Forcing himself to stay awake, he surveyed the prison that he was in, and found that he was stuck inside a musty boat cabin, tied to a pole. There was another person in the room, tied to the pole adjacent to Neal's.

"Hello?" Neal whispered, annoyed at how weak his voice sounded.

A moan emanated from the figure. "Hello?" A feminine voice whispered back.

"Who are you?"

"Violet. Who are you?"

"Neal. Where are we?" He questioned in a whisper.

The door to the cabin opened, and in walked Vincent Adler, gun in hand.

"Stop talking, both of you." Adler said angrily.

He looked at the girl, "Neal, I see you met Violet. You two will be seeing quite a lot of each other." He gave a cruel grin.

"Go to Hell, Vincent." Neal whispered.

In response, Adler slapped Neal across his face with the butt of his gun. Neal felt the bones in his nose crack. He winced in pain. Blood dribbled to his chin.

"I'm just warming up Caffrey." He said, coolly. "You are going to tell me why you blew up the art, or I am going to shoot Violet." He cocked his gun at the girl.

"No don't shoot her. I will tell you why." He pleaded. He desperately tried to think of something, not wanting to jeopardize the life of Tobie.

"I'm waiting. I don't have all day you know."

"It wasn't me, Vincent. Someone else set it up!" Neal's voice was still a whisper, pain radiating from his chest every time he spoke.

Vincent looked extremely angry. "Damn it, Caffrey!" he shouted, pulling his gun. He fired a shot at Violet, who cried out, blood blossoming from her shoulder.

"Now it's your turn" He took out a knife, and slash Neal across his chest. Blood spurted from the wound.

Pain enclosed around Neal's chest, and he felt a scream rising in his throat. His vision was cloudy.

He saw Violet slump to her side, her dark brown eyes glassy.

The edges of his vision were rimmed in fire, and Neal let loose a tortured scream, and sunk back into the darkness.

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So, how'd you like it? REVIEW! please? :)