* This chapter was suggested by Laheara. It's through Peter's point of view this time. And c'mon people, READ AND REVIEW!


All oxygen was gone from the room, but for the portion that was inside the small metal thing, Neal had given Peter. He had it clenched between his teeth as he breathed, Neal however, was not.

He remembered what Neal had said when Peter had offered to split the oxygen with him. Neal had said,

"I trust you, Peter."

He trusted him. Trusted him with his own life. Neal's life was in Peter's hands and Neal was perfectly okay with that. The feeling Peter felt when Neal had said that, was so heartwarming, yet so surprised that he wasn't sure what to feel.

Why did Neal trust him? It had been partially Peter's fault that Neal had been put behind bars again. Neal should believe that Peter didn't trust him, as he continued to make him wear the tracking anklet in case he chose to run away.

But even after all of that, Neal could still honestly tell Peter that he trusted him.

Peter was shoving pictures off of the walls, looking for the kill switch, to open the door and allow the room to once more fill with air. He was searching desperately. The clock was ticking. They had, had five minutes worth of air. But that was gone now. Neither could speak, as it would be a waste of breath, and so it was just barely that Peter heard,

"Peter!"

He turned around and saw, to his surprise that Neal had found the switch. He was pointing at it, with his eyebrows knitted together in pain, most likely from the tightening he was surely feeling in his chest, and the throbbing in his head.

Peter's heart nearly stopped when he saw his partner grip at the wall, and then slide as if in slow motion, down... down... down... to the floor. His eyes closing as he did so.

Peter sprinted to the killswitch and reached up to push it when he saw from outside the glass, Avery had a gun cocked and pointed at his heart, daring him to push that button, because if he did, he'd be shot.

Peter looked around desperately and knelt down lightly, and shook Neal's shoulder, hoping to God he'd wake up. But Neal remained unresponsive. And this was perhaps what drove Peter to push that button anyway.

He pulled out his own gun, finger resting ready on the trigger, pointed at Avery and Reed, his hand an inch from the killswitch, eyes at the glass. It was when he saw several FBI agents filing into the hallway behind Reed and Avery, that he slammed his palm into the switch and watched the door slide open.

He immediately bent down in front of Neal, and felt his chest. Not breathing! He waved his hand before his closed eyes and then pressed gently into the conman's chest, forcing air into his lungs.

"C'mon, Neal. C'mon..." He whispered encouragingly.

The intense relief he felt when his partner's eyes flew open and he lifted his head, gasping for air which luckily came.

"Breathe." He instructed to the panting ex-forger who obliged.

Breathing heavily Neal replied, "...That was a long five minutes."

Peter smiled, "Yeah."

He helped Neal outside, leading him out to sit down and get some air.

He shook his head and said as Neal rubbed his head groggily.

"What you did..."

"I knew you'd take care of it." Neal responded.

"Crazier than I am." Peter said and they chuckled.

There was a short pause and Neal said,

"You got my back, right?"

Peter nodded but he then remembered what he had to explain to Neal about Kate. He could tell that Neal knew something was coming so he wanted to explain it to him kindly. Neal seemed to sense that too and allowed Peter to tell him the news.

He was glad that Neal trusted him.