A/N: OK, it's going to be a LONG time until January - until we get an official resolution to the mid-season cliffhanger. Others have started to post their own takes on this dilemma, and this is mine. I want Elizabeth back home, and I want to know how Peter and Neal can fix what's broken between them. (Because, darn it, I want my bromance back!)

Neal looked down in amazement at his hand – the one currently trying to hold back the river of blood that was leaving his body at what seemed like an alarming rate of flow. Not that he had a lot of experience at being stabbed, but this really couldn't be good.

Still, he knew he had to keep enough blood filling his veins to accomplish a couple more things. Then, he could let go.

He dropped to his knees next to the body lying near his feet. With his free hand – the one not literally holding his life in – he felt for a pulse. It was there, somewhat weak, but steady. Fumbling behind him, he pulled out the handcuffs.

They were Sara's – something she had left at his place in her haste to pack – her haste to get away from him. He probably should have taken them back with the lock pick set, but he had wanted to remember – remember the hours they spent, handcuffed together, working until she could open the lock almost as quickly as he could. They'd joked about the rings around their wrists getting stuck, tying them together forever…

But there hadn't been forever for them. Just something else good in his life that he hadn't been able to hang onto – it was a long list. He hoped somehow that she might find out that he had chosen to stay. It was too late, of course. But maybe when – if – she remembered him, it would be easier…

He shook his head firmly, just once, to clear those thoughts. He didn't have time, as evidenced by the wave of dizziness that crashed over him at the sudden movement. Matthew Keller lay, unconscious, on his side, and Neal rolled him onto his stomach. Hands trembling, he locked Keller's wrists behind his back – not that that would stop Keller for very long if he was conscious, but hopefully it would be enough to slow him a bit if he woke up.

Slow him long enough for Peter to get there…

Every muscle in his body seemed to protest as he forced himself back to his feet and stumbled toward the far corner. He could see blue eyes following his progress, and that pushed him on.

The last time a blue-eyed brunette had been in danger because of him, he'd been too late. He couldn't save her. But this time he'd made it, and Elizabeth Burke would be going home to her husband…

He reached a hand out to steady himself against the wall, and then slid down next to her. His right hand slipped into the pocket of his suit coat, pulling out a knife – already covered in his blood, and pulled from the open hole in his side.

Hopefully June wouldn't be too upset that he'd ruined one of Byron's suits – because really, this was more blood than any dry cleaner could reasonably get out. But he thought June would understand, just this once…

His thoughts were wandering again, and he forced his attention back to the task at hand. He had to finish this, while he still could. Elizabeth had already shifted a bit away from the wall, her bound hands visible. Slowly, trying with every ounce of control he had left to keep the blade steady, he started to cut the ropes that bound her.

And fortunately, the blade was sharp – as he had already found out…

The ropes fell away from her wrists, and although his vision was getting a little blurry, it didn't seem as though he had cut her in the process. Neal let the knife fall from his fingers as he sagged back against the wall, watching as Elizabeth flexed her newly-freed hands and then reached up to remove the gag covering her mouth. "Did he hurt you?"

Because if he had, Neal would use every last bit of strength he had to take that knife, crawl back to where Keller lay, and carve the man into tiny pieces…

Elizabeth was shaking her head. "Just this," she said, pointing to a bruise along the right side of her face. "When they broke into the house. I fought back." She picked up the knife and worked on the ropes around her ankles.

Neal managed a smile at that. "I knew you would," he said. He pulled his phone out, pressing it into her hand. "Take this, and get away from here."

She took the phone, but shook her head. "We're both getting out of here, Neal."

He felt her hands on his arm, but he knew he was at the limit of his strength. "I can't," he said, reaching up to touch her hand. He let his fingers linger on hers for a moment, savoring the warmth. For a brief, admittedly selfish moment, he wanted to keep her there, to not be alone at the end.

Except all of his decisions, everything he had done with his life – wasted his life on – had led to him being alone…

It took all of his strength – both physical and emotional – to gently push her hands away. "I can't," he repeated, and he knew his voice was fading. "You have to get out," he insisted. "Get away from here, call Peter. Mozzie should be out there…"

"Neal!"

"I chose, Elizabeth," he whispered. "I chose Peter. Sometimes… sometimes you have to pay for your choices. Now please, go…"

A/N: Keep reading - you'll find out how we got here!