Peter sat at his desk, reading the reports he had been given. From what everyone was telling him, he didn't like what he was hearing. He had played the sound clip over and over again, trying to find anything he could. Any little hint. Any sound. Any anything. He was torturing himself while Diana and the others were working on it.
"Boss?" Peter looked up at Diana in his doorway. Reaching out, he motioned for her to come inside.
“Footage shows Neal on his way here. We tracked him leaving June’s and used street footage. He knew he was being tailed, boss. He ducked left and right, but they caught him. We recovered a partial plate that Jones is running.” She didn’t want to see Neal hurt either.”
“We’re going to send a team out to Newark Community Airport. We’ve notified the FAA. We think what name they’re flying under. We have a few hours. It’s a small hangar as part of the airport.” She sighed, coming over and sitting down in front of Peter’s desk. “The FAA and the airport is working with us. And we tracked Neal's cellphone. We're getting a signal from the airport too. We need to go out there.”
Her voice softened. “We’ll get him back, Peter.”
Peter nodded his head. "Right." He had to get his head back in the game. He had to focus. He was too close to this. "Diana, I... I want to go, but... You need to help me, please. Take point on this?" She nodded her head. He was glad of that.
It would seem that something else was holding up the Russian mobster from arriving, and soon Neal heard voices getting heated. Something about the FAA grounding chartered flights for 'routine security checks.' It couldn't have been Neal that alerted them, they'd checked him for a phone and they'd cut his anklet. Not that they actually had figured out who Neal was yet. Grinning silently, Neal knew exactly who'd alerted them.
"Thank you Peter," he whispered to the floor.
Twisting again, Neal finally got his bound hands from behind his back around front. Much better. In another quick motion, he'd fished the phone out. Bloody fingers were slipping on the keys but, thankfully, Peter had made Neal put him on speed dial the felon's first day out of prison. Pressing and holding down one of the keys, he did his best to silence the key tone. Moments later, Peter's cellphone started ringing.
Granted, Peter wasn't going to be able to hear anything beyond the aggravated and muffled shouts of Neal's captors, but at least Neal could let his partner know he wasn't dead. Neal didn't expect that Peter would give up until he'd found him, but just in case the noises of him getting roughed up sounded as bad as the injuries felt? Well, he didn't want that to give the bureau an excuse to be done with Neal Caffrey for good.
"Peter? Peter if you can hear this, don't let the FAA re-open flights. They've got automatic weapons. Hundreds of them ready to ship."
That breathy whisper was the only risk Neal was going to take, speaking aloud. Neal could be a good man. Like right then, when he was more worried about weapons distribution than begging Peter to rescue him
Peter suited up and followed behind Diana and Jones. He even let Diana drive, that's how upset he was over this. He knew that this was a bad thing. He needed to get over it and keep his head focused. If he wouldn't let others get emotionally involved, then he sure couldn't.
They were about five minutes away from the airfield when his phone went off. His eyes widened and he looked up at Diana. "It's Neal." Peter answered his phone, looking behind him to Jones. "Get a trace going."
His brow furrowed as he tried to listen in. Neal's voice was very quiet, barely audible. "What! Neal, I don't care about that. Are you okay?" He put his hand over the mouthpiece and looked back to Jones. "We're going to need backup. Lots of it. Automatic weapons." He sighed and went back to focusing on Neal.
"Neal, we're on our way. We've tracked your anklet and your phone. Neal, oh god, it's good to hear your voice." Yes, he'd been a little worried.
As badly as he wanted to reply, Neal knew it would be suicide. He desperately wanted to say something, anything but, instead, he unwillingly turned the volume as low as possible. Peter's words were comforting but wouldn't be if the older man's voice carried through the hangar. He left the phone on, clutching it close so he could slip it back into the hidden suit pocket if need be. Until then, at least he could listen to the muted reassurances from his partner.
On their way was a good phrase and Neal exhaled just a bit. If this could end with him just having to take a beating, that was fine. It was more than fine even, because this wasn't just a bust for white collar crimes it would be an international success in arms dealing.
The voices of his abductors were getting louder, loud enough that they were no longer muffled and the sound of boots on cement came through the phone. Neal made quick work of hiding the phone without turning it off, and gave the two Russians a dashing smile as they made their approach. Well, as dashing as one could be with a black eye, broken cheek bone, and busted lip. All Neal had to do was hope to stall a bit longer.
"Gentleman! Is this any way to treat a guest?" Neal knew begging wouldn't fly with men like this anyways, so he was fine with trying the 'I know things and I'll tell' route. Information always got people to keep you alive longer. "The things I know could save your operation and your beating my brains to a pulp makes them harder to remember."
The larger of the pair hauled Neal to his feet then, thick accent coloring his words when he spoke. "I don't know who you are or who you work for but you'd better hope that information actually matters to Dimitri. Because if not, you have about ten minutes left chatty man."
Dimitri Korosov was one of the biggest fish in New York, so to speak. The bug they'd tried to plant had actually been for Dimitri's right hand man. Dimitri was a far, far, bigger catch to make. Neal swallowed a little. He knew the name and he knew the reputation. The gangster would shoot his way through ten airports if he had to. For him to be on location meant that this was a big job nearing completion.
"He is still at the airport, Peter." Jones finished the trace and got on the phone for backup. Peter let out a huge sigh. When he didn't hear Neal answer, he knew something was wrong. He frowned, trying hard to listen to what was being said. He wasn't liking what he was hearing. He tried to pick up clues, noises in the background, something.
His eyes widened to the point he was sure that they would bug out. "Okay," he said softly, not wanting to be heard. "We need all available units. Neal left his phone on. Dimitri is either there or on his way to the airfield. We have a real shot, Diana." She nodded and started to bark orders into her phone as she turned a corner. With Diana and Jones both working, he focused on listening.
"Please," he whispered, "let him be safe." His mind flashed on he past night wih Neal. There were still a lot of things unsaid. He really wasn't ready to say goodbye yet. "Be strong, Neal."
Dimitri was, in fact, already there. He'd arrived just before the FAA had shut down all entrances and exits and wasn't having success trying to sneak out. Instead, he'd commanded his goons to load up all the weapons into the plane. They were going to leave, with our without clearance. With all flights grounded, there should be plenty of clear runway space. All they needed to do was get far enough off the coast to hit international waters and then they could head toward South America.
The promise of information was enough for the two henchmen to drag Neal bag to an empty little office. They sat him there and took up residence outside the door. After about three minutes of waiting, where in Peter was sure to hear the heavy breaths of his partner, the door opened. Rooms like this with murderous gangsters on their way were not the places he wanted to be.
"CIA? NSA? Interpol?"
Those were the first words Dimitri said after slamming the door and then his fists on the table in front of Neal. Mustering his best con artist's smile, Neal shook his head.
"FBI, and unwilling at that. They pulled me out of prison, slapped an anklet on me, and told me to play by their rules." Neal began. He was going to try and appeal to the man's criminal side. "Take me with you. I'll get you out of here and give you all the information I have that the FBI does. You cut my anklet so they can't track me."
Dimitri seemed less than enthused by the suggestion. "Why? I kill you here, I leave since, as you say, they can't track you. I will be out of the USA within the hour and will have no need for information."
Neal swallowed. Fuck. That is NOT what he wanted to hear.
"We have confirmation. Dimitri has landed. His plane is on the runway," Jones barked out. As the cars pulled into the airfield, Peter felt his heart drop. He didn't want to hang up the phone, but he wanted to save Neal. That was more important. Diana pulled the car to a stop and they all climbed out. "Okay, we have confirmation. We have one shot at this," Diana yelled. Peter didn't know what he would do without her.
Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. He could do this. He could distance himself from his emotions. He had to. "Team one, go around back. Cover the exit in case he runs." Diana looked up at Peter. He blinked and nodded his head.
"This isn't a drill. Everyone do not shoot unless fired upon. We have an agent in there. "
The henchmen didn't know what hit them. Together, they all busted into the hangar, guns drawn. "Freeze! FBI!" Peter let the others take care of the criminals. "Neal?"
The sound of the FBI bursting in brought relief to Neal, but only temporarily. Dimitri leaned across the table and growled under his breath. Pulling Neal to his feet, he put a gun in the small of his back and pushed a bit into his spine.
"You are getting me out of here, one way or another," he informed Neal.
Moments later, the door to the back office opened, as the last few of Dimitri's men were being put in hand cuffs. Neal appeared first, and the Russian behind him. The usually beautiful and suave Neal Caffrey was a mess. Blood had spattered his dress shirt, one eye was swollen shut and the other close behind, and his teeth were red.
Dimitri looked desperate and before Neal could get a word out, he made the gun known by practically smashing it against the young man's temple. Neal winced but still said nothing. His one eye was trying to find Peter.
"I'm leaving here and I'm doing it now," Dimitri hissed toward Diana, who seemed to be one of the ones in charge.
Diana held up her gun, her hands in the air. "Hey, let's be calm. Okay?" Diana knew that they had all been trained for this. Hostage situations were one of the things that they learned from the beginning. Especially when you're dealing with someone as high up at Dimitri. "You can walk out of here. Just don't hurt him, okay?"
Peter stared hard at Neal. Just seeing him in his bloody state broke his heart. He couldn't let Neal be taken. For all he knew, they would cut his anklet and kill him. Slowly, he stepped up, his hands both extended out in the air. He hoped that if Neal heard his voice, he would at least feel a little better. "Hey." He briefly gazed over at Diana, shooting her a look. He smiled and looked right at Dimitri.
Peter frowned. Where the hell was that backup?
"You don't want him. He's an ex con. The Feds don't care about him. He won't be good leverage for you. You need something that they can't stand to lose." He stepped closer, albeit slowly. "Take me. I'm an agent who has more seniority than he ever will. Ask them, i'm good for it. Take me instead."
Everyone else seemed to be letting Peter go through with what he was saying. No matter how false it was. “C’mon Dimitri, you’re surrounded. You won’t get out without a proper hostage.” He winked at Neal. “Take me. Easy choice.”
The moment Neal's eyes settled on Peter, he didn't want to look away. Fortunately, his partner was giving him a good reason to keep watching. Peter was quickly setting up a switch, one that Neal didn't approve of. His one eye practically begged Peter to take the shot rather than make an exchange. It was only when he saw the other man wink that he looked less like he might be sick.
Only a bit less though.
After Diana and the others had insisted that Peter was, indeed, senior agent, the Russian's attitude shifted. Glancing around, he knew he really didn't have much of a choice. As it was, several of Peter's agents had guns trained on both him and Neal. If Neal was as worthless as Peter claimed, Dimitri assumed they might be willing to take a shot through the con.
"Fine. You come here and keep those hands up. No funny business."
To emphasize his point, he pressed the barrel of the gun painfully into Neal's temple. He hadn't cocked the gun though, so there was that at least.
Peter stepped forward, his hands held out in front of him in the air. His eyes went to the gun against Neal's temple. His stomach lurched and he nodded his head. He almost wished they would take the shot just to end this.
"I'm right here." He looked to Peter, smiling softly. "Right here. Just take me instead." He smiled at Dimitri. As they made the switch, he wanted to touch Neal but knew he couldn't. Not then at the moment. Maybe soon.
"On the count of three," Peter said. "One. Two..." He didn't make it to three. As Dimitri let go of Neal to take Peter, there was a slight second where there was a shot. And Diana took it. Dimitri fell back, fiercely clutching his shoulder. "Neal!" Peter ran over to his CI, kneeling down beside him.
"Ambulance! We need an ambulance. We have a man down." He sighed and took Neal's hand in his. "Neal. Talk to me Neal."
The sweat was pouring down Neal's back and he felt a little dizzy. It was hard to tell if that was from blood loss or adrenaline and terror. He trusted Peter, which he couldn't say for any one else in the room. That didn't mean he still didn't fear things going south and either he or his partner getting shot. As the number three was approaching, Neal discreetly nodded and fell to his knees as Diana took her shot.
Once he was down there, it was hard to get back up. Neal was dizzy, exhausted, and the blood had been rushing to his head. Now that it was over, he could stop forcing himself to seem aware.
"Took your time getting here," he teased softly, squeezing Peter's hand reassuringly.
They weren't just going to need an ambulance for Dimitri, upon closer inspection, Neal was going to need stitches and possible bones set. The younger man hadn't seen himself yet and that was probably for the best. Slumping, just a little, he leaned on Peter from his position on the floor.
Peter chuckled. "Well, I wanted to make an entrance."
He sighed and moved so that he was helping Neal sit up. One hand reached up and he brushed a lock of hair out of Neal's eyes. He had to be careful and not give away too much emotion, but he couldn't help himself. Neal was looking pretty rough. And he hated that. Sometimes their job really was dangerous. If he came home looking like that, El would kill him.
Diana came over to Neal and gently patted him on the shoulder. Even Jones nodded his head to Neal. It was a good job. He'd ducked at just the right moment. "Not much happened in the meeting," he teased. The ambulance came in and they took Dimitri and Neal. "I'll meet you at the hospital, okay?" And he would. He'd follow Neal wherever they took him and made sure he got home safe when he was done.
"I'll even ride with you if you need me to. At least it's over, okay? You helped save the day and put away a big one. I'm proud of you."
"I'm hardly back a week and you're taking away my view," Neal complained. Spending a night in the hospital hadn't been in his list of things to do ever, much less so soon after coming back. "You better not send me there by myself."
While it sounded like it was teasing, Neal was shaken. He could only hope that Peter understood that implied tone. Even though Neal could walk, they insisted that the man be taken out on a stretcher. Sighing, he let them prick him and start and IV. Vitals were taken as they pushed him up into the ambulance and he waved weakly at Peter.
"They should give me a vacation in reward."
Humor was all he had standing between him and a nervous breakdown. Today had been too close for comfort and he'd flirted far more with danger than he usually liked. Neal could only hope they'd be back to proper white collar crimes after this. Laying back on the pillows, he sighed.
They hadn't even put his anklet back on and this was the perfect reason and chance for him to run again. Neal was going to stay but he couldn't help the thought from crossing his mind.
Peter sighed. "I want it noted that I didn't take it away." He climbed into the ambulance and insisted that he ride with Neal to the hospital. If any of the bureau asked, it would be because he wasn't wearing his anklet. He only hoped that Neal knew the truth. He wanted to be there by his side. He didn't care about the anklet. He loved and trusted him. He knew that he wasn't going to run.
"I think you just had a vacation, Neal," he teased. He was quiet as they worked on him, reaching out and gently taking Neal's hand in his. Today was a very trying day. He hated to think of Neal in any sort of pain, emotional or physical. "You can have tomorrow off."
He hated hospitals too. "Just let them take a look at you. If you don't want to stay, you don't have to," he murmured. "I'm right here, Neal. I'm not going anywhere." He smiled and gave Neal's hand a gentle squeeze. And he never would. Neal meant a lot to him. He was very much aware of the fact he and Neal had never spoken after what happened. And yes, he wanted to, but now wasn't the best time to do it.
"What do you say, after this we find a very nice and calm mail fraud case? Sweepstakes scams? Something not so exciting."
In spite of the rough state he was in, Neal squeezed back Peter's hand tightly. It was a relief to have the other man close. The EMTs could care less was the FBI pair was doing and, having seen pretty much everything in the back of that ambulance, weren't even paying attention. Instead they were tracking his vitals and doing their best to patch him up until a proper physician could take a look. Lolling his head to the side, he watched Peter's blurry face.
"Stop looking so worried, I think my look is awful enough for the both of us." Peter was almost always collected. Seeing the older man with so many lines on his face concerned Neal. "I knew you would make it in time and you did."
Was there more reassuring Peter or Neal himself as he said that?
What he really wanted to do, was pull their clasped hands close and kiss Peter's knuckles. His friend had saved his life and Neal wanted him to know what it meant. He couldn't right then, or at least thought he ought not to, so instead he just squeezed again and tried to smile in spite of his swollen lip.
"Sweepstakes scams sound right up my alley for the next few weeks. If we're feeling adventurous, maybe even some tax evasion?"
Soon enough, they'd be at the hospital. Neal was going to need to be watched, and helped, through the night. Peter would be allowed to stay but they would want to keep the younger man for concussion observation. No matter what line Neal would try, the doctors wouldn't budge.
"Boss?" Peter looked up at Diana in his doorway. Reaching out, he motioned for her to come inside.
“Footage shows Neal on his way here. We tracked him leaving June’s and used street footage. He knew he was being tailed, boss. He ducked left and right, but they caught him. We recovered a partial plate that Jones is running.” She didn’t want to see Neal hurt either.”
“We’re going to send a team out to Newark Community Airport. We’ve notified the FAA. We think what name they’re flying under. We have a few hours. It’s a small hangar as part of the airport.” She sighed, coming over and sitting down in front of Peter’s desk. “The FAA and the airport is working with us. And we tracked Neal's cellphone. We're getting a signal from the airport too. We need to go out there.”
Her voice softened. “We’ll get him back, Peter.”
Peter nodded his head. "Right." He had to get his head back in the game. He had to focus. He was too close to this. "Diana, I... I want to go, but... You need to help me, please. Take point on this?" She nodded her head. He was glad of that.
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"Thank you Peter," he whispered to the floor.
Twisting again, Neal finally got his bound hands from behind his back around front. Much better. In another quick motion, he'd fished the phone out. Bloody fingers were slipping on the keys but, thankfully, Peter had made Neal put him on speed dial the felon's first day out of prison. Pressing and holding down one of the keys, he did his best to silence the key tone. Moments later, Peter's cellphone started ringing.
Granted, Peter wasn't going to be able to hear anything beyond the aggravated and muffled shouts of Neal's captors, but at least Neal could let his partner know he wasn't dead. Neal didn't expect that Peter would give up until he'd found him, but just in case the noises of him getting roughed up sounded as bad as the injuries felt? Well, he didn't want that to give the bureau an excuse to be done with Neal Caffrey for good.
"Peter? Peter if you can hear this, don't let the FAA re-open flights. They've got automatic weapons. Hundreds of them ready to ship."
That breathy whisper was the only risk Neal was going to take, speaking aloud. Neal could be a good man. Like right then, when he was more worried about weapons distribution than begging Peter to rescue him
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They were about five minutes away from the airfield when his phone went off. His eyes widened and he looked up at Diana. "It's Neal." Peter answered his phone, looking behind him to Jones. "Get a trace going."
His brow furrowed as he tried to listen in. Neal's voice was very quiet, barely audible. "What! Neal, I don't care about that. Are you okay?" He put his hand over the mouthpiece and looked back to Jones. "We're going to need backup. Lots of it. Automatic weapons." He sighed and went back to focusing on Neal.
"Neal, we're on our way. We've tracked your anklet and your phone. Neal, oh god, it's good to hear your voice." Yes, he'd been a little worried.
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On their way was a good phrase and Neal exhaled just a bit. If this could end with him just having to take a beating, that was fine. It was more than fine even, because this wasn't just a bust for white collar crimes it would be an international success in arms dealing.
The voices of his abductors were getting louder, loud enough that they were no longer muffled and the sound of boots on cement came through the phone. Neal made quick work of hiding the phone without turning it off, and gave the two Russians a dashing smile as they made their approach. Well, as dashing as one could be with a black eye, broken cheek bone, and busted lip. All Neal had to do was hope to stall a bit longer.
"Gentleman! Is this any way to treat a guest?" Neal knew begging wouldn't fly with men like this anyways, so he was fine with trying the 'I know things and I'll tell' route. Information always got people to keep you alive longer. "The things I know could save your operation and your beating my brains to a pulp makes them harder to remember."
The larger of the pair hauled Neal to his feet then, thick accent coloring his words when he spoke. "I don't know who you are or who you work for but you'd better hope that information actually matters to Dimitri. Because if not, you have about ten minutes left chatty man."
Dimitri Korosov was one of the biggest fish in New York, so to speak. The bug they'd tried to plant had actually been for Dimitri's right hand man. Dimitri was a far, far, bigger catch to make. Neal swallowed a little. He knew the name and he knew the reputation. The gangster would shoot his way through ten airports if he had to. For him to be on location meant that this was a big job nearing completion.
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His eyes widened to the point he was sure that they would bug out. "Okay," he said softly, not wanting to be heard. "We need all available units. Neal left his phone on. Dimitri is either there or on his way to the airfield. We have a real shot, Diana." She nodded and started to bark orders into her phone as she turned a corner. With Diana and Jones both working, he focused on listening.
"Please," he whispered, "let him be safe." His mind flashed on he past night wih Neal. There were still a lot of things unsaid. He really wasn't ready to say goodbye yet. "Be strong, Neal."
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The promise of information was enough for the two henchmen to drag Neal bag to an empty little office. They sat him there and took up residence outside the door. After about three minutes of waiting, where in Peter was sure to hear the heavy breaths of his partner, the door opened. Rooms like this with murderous gangsters on their way were not the places he wanted to be.
"CIA? NSA? Interpol?"
Those were the first words Dimitri said after slamming the door and then his fists on the table in front of Neal. Mustering his best con artist's smile, Neal shook his head.
"FBI, and unwilling at that. They pulled me out of prison, slapped an anklet on me, and told me to play by their rules." Neal began. He was going to try and appeal to the man's criminal side. "Take me with you. I'll get you out of here and give you all the information I have that the FBI does. You cut my anklet so they can't track me."
Dimitri seemed less than enthused by the suggestion. "Why? I kill you here, I leave since, as you say, they can't track you. I will be out of the USA within the hour and will have no need for information."
Neal swallowed. Fuck. That is NOT what he wanted to hear.
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Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. He could do this. He could distance himself from his emotions. He had to. "Team one, go around back. Cover the exit in case he runs." Diana looked up at Peter. He blinked and nodded his head.
"This isn't a drill. Everyone do not shoot unless fired upon. We have an agent in there. "
The henchmen didn't know what hit them. Together, they all busted into the hangar, guns drawn. "Freeze! FBI!" Peter let the others take care of the criminals. "Neal?"
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"You are getting me out of here, one way or another," he informed Neal.
Moments later, the door to the back office opened, as the last few of Dimitri's men were being put in hand cuffs. Neal appeared first, and the Russian behind him. The usually beautiful and suave Neal Caffrey was a mess. Blood had spattered his dress shirt, one eye was swollen shut and the other close behind, and his teeth were red.
Dimitri looked desperate and before Neal could get a word out, he made the gun known by practically smashing it against the young man's temple. Neal winced but still said nothing. His one eye was trying to find Peter.
"I'm leaving here and I'm doing it now," Dimitri hissed toward Diana, who seemed to be one of the ones in charge.
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Peter stared hard at Neal. Just seeing him in his bloody state broke his heart. He couldn't let Neal be taken. For all he knew, they would cut his anklet and kill him. Slowly, he stepped up, his hands both extended out in the air. He hoped that if Neal heard his voice, he would at least feel a little better. "Hey." He briefly gazed over at Diana, shooting her a look. He smiled and looked right at Dimitri.
Peter frowned. Where the hell was that backup?
"You don't want him. He's an ex con. The Feds don't care about him. He won't be good leverage for you. You need something that they can't stand to lose." He stepped closer, albeit slowly. "Take me. I'm an agent who has more seniority than he ever will. Ask them, i'm good for it. Take me instead."
Everyone else seemed to be letting Peter go through with what he was saying. No matter how false it was. “C’mon Dimitri, you’re surrounded. You won’t get out without a proper hostage.” He winked at Neal. “Take me. Easy choice.”
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Only a bit less though.
After Diana and the others had insisted that Peter was, indeed, senior agent, the Russian's attitude shifted. Glancing around, he knew he really didn't have much of a choice. As it was, several of Peter's agents had guns trained on both him and Neal. If Neal was as worthless as Peter claimed, Dimitri assumed they might be willing to take a shot through the con.
"Fine. You come here and keep those hands up. No funny business."
To emphasize his point, he pressed the barrel of the gun painfully into Neal's temple. He hadn't cocked the gun though, so there was that at least.
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Peter stepped forward, his hands held out in front of him in the air. His eyes went to the gun against Neal's temple. His stomach lurched and he nodded his head. He almost wished they would take the shot just to end this.
"I'm right here." He looked to Peter, smiling softly. "Right here. Just take me instead." He smiled at Dimitri. As they made the switch, he wanted to touch Neal but knew he couldn't. Not then at the moment. Maybe soon.
"On the count of three," Peter said. "One. Two..." He didn't make it to three. As Dimitri let go of Neal to take Peter, there was a slight second where there was a shot. And Diana took it. Dimitri fell back, fiercely clutching his shoulder. "Neal!" Peter ran over to his CI, kneeling down beside him.
"Ambulance! We need an ambulance. We have a man down." He sighed and took Neal's hand in his. "Neal. Talk to me Neal."
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Once he was down there, it was hard to get back up. Neal was dizzy, exhausted, and the blood had been rushing to his head. Now that it was over, he could stop forcing himself to seem aware.
"Took your time getting here," he teased softly, squeezing Peter's hand reassuringly.
They weren't just going to need an ambulance for Dimitri, upon closer inspection, Neal was going to need stitches and possible bones set. The younger man hadn't seen himself yet and that was probably for the best. Slumping, just a little, he leaned on Peter from his position on the floor.
"Guess I'm missed the morning meeting, huh?"
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He sighed and moved so that he was helping Neal sit up. One hand reached up and he brushed a lock of hair out of Neal's eyes. He had to be careful and not give away too much emotion, but he couldn't help himself. Neal was looking pretty rough. And he hated that. Sometimes their job really was dangerous. If he came home looking like that, El would kill him.
Diana came over to Neal and gently patted him on the shoulder. Even Jones nodded his head to Neal. It was a good job. He'd ducked at just the right moment. "Not much happened in the meeting," he teased. The ambulance came in and they took Dimitri and Neal. "I'll meet you at the hospital, okay?" And he would. He'd follow Neal wherever they took him and made sure he got home safe when he was done.
"I'll even ride with you if you need me to. At least it's over, okay? You helped save the day and put away a big one. I'm proud of you."
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While it sounded like it was teasing, Neal was shaken. He could only hope that Peter understood that implied tone. Even though Neal could walk, they insisted that the man be taken out on a stretcher. Sighing, he let them prick him and start and IV. Vitals were taken as they pushed him up into the ambulance and he waved weakly at Peter.
"They should give me a vacation in reward."
Humor was all he had standing between him and a nervous breakdown. Today had been too close for comfort and he'd flirted far more with danger than he usually liked. Neal could only hope they'd be back to proper white collar crimes after this. Laying back on the pillows, he sighed.
They hadn't even put his anklet back on and this was the perfect reason and chance for him to run again. Neal was going to stay but he couldn't help the thought from crossing his mind.
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"I think you just had a vacation, Neal," he teased. He was quiet as they worked on him, reaching out and gently taking Neal's hand in his. Today was a very trying day. He hated to think of Neal in any sort of pain, emotional or physical. "You can have tomorrow off."
He hated hospitals too. "Just let them take a look at you. If you don't want to stay, you don't have to," he murmured. "I'm right here, Neal. I'm not going anywhere." He smiled and gave Neal's hand a gentle squeeze. And he never would. Neal meant a lot to him. He was very much aware of the fact he and Neal had never spoken after what happened. And yes, he wanted to, but now wasn't the best time to do it.
"What do you say, after this we find a very nice and calm mail fraud case? Sweepstakes scams? Something not so exciting."
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"Stop looking so worried, I think my look is awful enough for the both of us." Peter was almost always collected. Seeing the older man with so many lines on his face concerned Neal. "I knew you would make it in time and you did."
Was there more reassuring Peter or Neal himself as he said that?
What he really wanted to do, was pull their clasped hands close and kiss Peter's knuckles. His friend had saved his life and Neal wanted him to know what it meant. He couldn't right then, or at least thought he ought not to, so instead he just squeezed again and tried to smile in spite of his swollen lip.
"Sweepstakes scams sound right up my alley for the next few weeks. If we're feeling adventurous, maybe even some tax evasion?"
Soon enough, they'd be at the hospital. Neal was going to need to be watched, and helped, through the night. Peter would be allowed to stay but they would want to keep the younger man for concussion observation. No matter what line Neal would try, the doctors wouldn't budge.
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