Summary: During an undercover mission, Neal is hit in the head and falls unconscious. When he wakes up he finds the world and people in his life very different from what he remembered. NealWhump galore? Evil Peter? An all around good time? You betcha.
Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar or its characters, except in my dreams!
A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed! Sorry I took so long to update- reality keeps getting in the way of my writing. :P Anyway, on with the show!
Far From Home
"This is an easy one," Peter says as he slides the new case folder across the table to Neal. "Investment fraud, your favorite."
Neal rolled his eyes at Peter's sarcasm. "Nothing better in the whole world."
Peter's eyes turned dark. "I will get my revenge."
Neal cocked his head in confusion. "What?"
Neal woke with a start. He tugged on his arms, but they were chained above him to a rusty pole. Neal was sure if he pulled hard enough he could probably get loose, but as he looked down to the blood flowing out of a gunshot wound in his side, he knew he wouldn't get far. "Better to play your cards and hope for the best, Neal." he muttered to himself. He wasn't sure on what was going on, other than a very irate Peter. He had shot him, for Pete's sake! There was a gunshot wound in Neal's side! Neal allowed his eyes to droop so that he could think things over. First things first: location. Neal peered around to get a look at where he was. It looked, quite frankly, like Peter's garage. Although, it was much darker and creepier than he remembered. The last time he had been in Peter's garage was last week, when he had asked Neal over for dinner.
Peter stopped his car in the garage, and unlocked the doors.
"Peter, really. I don't want to intrude. You and El should have some personal time. I can flag a cab and go to June's." Neal pleaded, his blue eyes averting Peter's brown ones.
Peter shook his head, a smile itching its way onto his face. "No, El and I insist. Besides, I can already smell Elizabeth's famous chicken pot pie and roasted potatoes. No doubt she made enough for three. I don't think she'd want to have to give that extra plate to Satchmo."
Neal sighed and gave in. "Alright, I guess it wouldn't hurt to stay for awhile." Peter and Neal stepped out of his Taurus and into the bright garage. Sun was flowing in from the two windows near the top and the sun roof. The smell of fresh paint wafted in towards the two partners from El's recent desire to paint the garage purple...
Neal sighed at the memory. The garage he was in now was quite the contrary. The walls were a rusty tinge of brown, and the sun roof above had nasty cracks in it. The dirt ground was disheveled, and Peter's Taurus was nowhere in sight. Neal tugged once on his chains, but it didn't budge. There goes the only hope of my escape. Neal looked toward the garage door. No sun was peeking through the bottom, so Neal could only assume it was late at night. He wasn't sure where Peter had scampered off to. Peter had shot him. Peter's actions kept playing through Neal's head like a broken record. This wasn't his Peter. This Peter had said he chased him for five years, and that Neal had lost him his job at the Bureau. Last time Neal checked, Peter found him after three years. Peter always found him. So why had this Peter said otherwise? Neal shook his head, letting it drop down to his chest. This was like one of those sick science fiction movies where the main character finds himself in a parallel universe. Was that what this was? A bloody parallel version of Neal's world he'd grown to love?
The FBI swarmed into the warehouse, guns pointed at Neal, hugging Kate. "FBI! Put your hands up!" Peter walked in, a smirk on his face. He had finally won. He found his evidence, and his con. "Neal Caffrey," He stated, handcuffing the con artist. "You are under arrest. Anything you do say can and will be used against you in court of law." Neal sent an apologetic look towards Kate as he was dragged away to the police car.
The creaking of the rusty garage door shook Neal from his memories. How could everything have changed in an instant? Neal couldn't wrap his mind around it. His heart caught in his throat as he laid eyes on Peter- a glimmer of hope rose and plummeted simultaneously as he realized one thing: this was not his Peter. This Peter was a broken and crazed version of the man Neal had grown to call a true friend. This Peter had no joy in his eyes, those eyes, no longer brown, but now more of an empty black. This Peter, full of evilness, stood before him now, slowly approaching with a menacing black duffel bag.
A/N: I'm slightly proud of this chapter. Were you surprised that I hadn't put in much Neal whump? I'm saving that for next chapter. ;) Please review and tell me what you think! Any Neal Torture requests?- Never thought I'd ask that. ;)