Hi everyone! This plot bunny just hopped right into my mind! Enjoy and happy reading! :)

Peter's eyes sparkled toward the clock ahead of him, seeing that it was finally time to return home. His thoughts smiled at him with thoughts of his wife, warm food, and a comfortable couch. Peter grabbed his jacket and headed out, shutting the light and door to his office. With a few quick goodbyes, Peter sauntered down the steps in time to see Neal straightening his jacket and pocketing his phone, eyes dancing toward Peter.

"Ready?" Neal asked, plopping the hat onto his head.

"Way ahead of you. I was ready yesterday." Peter answered, raising his brows slightly at his partner, tossing in a small smile. Neal flashed one back at him.

"Did you solve that last file?" Neal asked Peter. Peter nodded.

"Almost, although I could use your thoughts on something…we'll go over it tomorrow." Peter said as the two began to head toward the door.

"You mean my gifted expertise?" Neal corrected, his expression playful. Peter narrowed his eyes jokingly back.

"Well…I wouldn't call experience you learned from avoiding the law gifted expertise…" he began. They debated the subject a bit more as they walked to the car, which ended as Peter knocked the rim of Neal's hat, tipping it across Neal's face. Neal straightened it with a "hey!" and a small chuckle from Peter. They continued with conversation as they drove to Neal's home.

With a goodbye, Neal exited the car with a few passing comments with Peter throwing some back. Neal climbed the stairs to the front door as Peter drove away. The ex-conman unlocked the door, shaking his head at Peter with a smirk. He entered and closed the door, turning his head toward the stairs to his apartment. However, although all seemed normal when he hadn't been looking a moment ago, it wasn't. It wasn't at all.

Tall men and guns pointed at him, surrounding him fully. Neal's expression turned from relaxed to alert, questioning. His hands very slowly raised to his shoulders.

"That's right. Hands up where we can see them, good man." One of the men spat lowly to him. Neal's jaw set and he swallowed, eyes scanning the situation surrounding him.

"Well…what's this all about?" Neal asked calmly, relaxing his face. The gunman tilted his head slightly.

"It's about us having your precious little land lady, Caffrey…" The gunman responded, the same one that spoke before. "And, well, if you want to go into details…it's about her life." He lowered his gun, allowing the other men to keep theirs on Neal. Neal's eyes flickered around then settled onto the man, feeling his heart dropping. June. "Randy, check our friend over please?" He asked as another gunman lowered his gun and headed toward Neal, ridding him of his cell phone and keys. He checked for a gun, but Neal didn't carry one.

"What do you want?" Neal asked sharply, looking at the man ahead of him as Randy searched his clothing. The man shifted.

"Ahh…well just a little bit-a dough…which we know our good lady friend has in a safe somewhere…and, well she just wouldn't tell us where it was…nor the passcode" He began. Neal was about to ask something as he opened his mouth. "Oh, but she's alright, she's just fine…but we also know you are pretty damn good at cracking codes." The man finished. Neal glared at them, eyes looking toward his phone for a moment as Randy stepped to the side. "See, we don't want any trouble Caffrey…we just want the money. However, see, it doesn't matter how much trouble we don't want…the money is paramount…and if we need to cause trouble, we will." He said. Neal felt chills up his spine, surveying the situation. There were two men to the side of him. "Do you understand?" He asked sternly. Neal nodded.

"Gooood. See, if we get the money you and your lady are free to go no problem, so let's just not start anything." Neal felt the two men grab his arms as the group turned to walk out of the entranceway. It was then were Neal moved what he had been plotting in his mind into action. He swiftly swung his arm from the man's grip and then swept his legs under the man while throwing the other man to the other side of the room, reaching for the door. However, that was when the shot went off.

Neal felt the searing pain in his back as the bullet plunged into his back. He arched forward, rolling onto himself as he fell, twisting into himself hard against the door. He was stunned, the breath knocked out of him.

"What the FUCK?!" Neal could barely hear the words over the extent of the pain which flooded in over the stunning numbness as he tried to grab hold of his breath, eyes wide to the ceiling.

"DID I TELL YOU TO FUCKING SHOOT HIM? HUH? DID I?" The man shouted at the other who had pointed his gun at Neal…who had shot him.

"No sir…but he-"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT, IF I DIDN'T TELL YOU TO SHOOT HIM, YOU DON'T DO IT ANYWAY! HOW THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO GET THIS DONE NOW? I SWEAR IF HE DIES, IF WE DON'T GET THAT MONEY-I'M GONNA-OH YOU'LL NEVER WANT TO LOOK YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR AGAIN AFTER I'M DONE." He shouted angrily. Neal felt his breath hitch back into existence as he gasped against the pull of his lungs. He couldn't really get a grip on what was going on around him and finally the pain won. Blue eyes shut as he fell into a heavy-breathed slumber. The man, the leader, walked quickly to Neal, growling.

"Look at him. What is wrong with you?!" He hissed, leaning over Neal. He rolled Neal over a bit to look at the wound. Neal's breath hitched as the pain demanded his attention even in sleep, a pained grunt escaped him. "Get him upstairs, now." He commanded. The men complied, grabbing Neal off the ground. They walked him upstairs and dumped him onto the couch. Inside, June's head raised, hearing the gunshot had made her frightened. Frightened for whoever was the product of it. When she saw it was Neal they hauled in, June's eyes widened and tears welled. She sat in the chair, tied and gagged, perpendicular to the couch Neal was placed on. Her body tensed. No.

"You imbeciles!" He growled again, looking at the young man. "Now what the hell are we going to do?! This man needs a doctor and that's not a resource we have readily at this moment!" He then looked down at Neal, watching him. He sighed.

Meanwhile, Peter Burke had turned his car around after finding Neal's wallet on the floor of the passenger side. He had tried to call Neal to find out if he needed the wallet, but he hadn't answered. Peter thought maybe he was taking a shower and decided it was better safe than sorry. If Neal was going to do anything he had to have his wallet. Peter climbed the stairs to the door and knocked before beginning to wait. His eyes glanced around for a moment and he tried again, unknowing to the commotion of people talking upstairs as to what they were going to do as Neal lost blood. Peter opened the door, finding it unlocked. A little strange. However, what was actually very strange was the blood pooled on the floor by the door. The crimson liquid had spread along the floor and streaked around the center. It was fresh. Not dry. Peter reached for his gun, then for his phone. However, he had left his phone in his car. After his failed call to Neal, Peter placed the gun in the center console.

The sight of the blood had alarmed him. The hat. The hat was upside down in the blood. Neal. He held the gun at attention, hearing the voices. His heart started to beat loudly against his chest. His eyes were prompt with concern as he scanned around and started upstairs. He listened to the conversation taking place on the other side of the door, holding the gun against him a bit as he peaked in from the crack between the door and the wall. He saw many men standing around, yapping. That was when he saw Neal laying on the couch, eyes shut and chest heaving. Peter couldn't tell what had happened to his partner, but his muscles tightened and his eyes were burning. No. He also saw June staring at Neal, watching the young man. Peter was about to turn to go back out the car and call for backup when suddenly he saw a gun pointed at him as well.

"Put. The gun. Down." The man demanded. Peter frowned, feeling his heart plummet. Shit. He did just as the man said before he was pushed into the room of about ten men. "Found him snooping, boss." The leader turned to Peter.

"Good. Shut that door." He said, frustration in his tone. "Search him…" He turned, looking at Peter. "Ahhh…agent Burke, what a surprise." He smirked.

"Who are you? How do you know who I am?" He asked firmly, his mouth in a concerned line has his eyes flickered between the man in front of him and Neal.

"Whoa, whoa Agent Burke take it easy now." He said, a gunman moving to search Peter's pocket. "You can call me Clark…I just want some money, that's all…I know my customers before I rob them, I'll have you know, and their associates…and well you friend there..." He looked behind to the couch. "He was gonna help me crack the safe code…to keep his little land lady there safe and sound. Peter glared.

"What did you do to him?" He questioned.

"One of my eccentric, stupid men decided to shoot him." He snarled darkly. Peter was finished being searched and ridded of his keys and pocket knife. Peter went to move toward his partner, concern leaking into his eyes as he looked toward Neal and June. "Hey, Burke, where do you think you're going?" He questioned, reaching to stop Peter.

"Dammit Clark, you have my gun, my keys, you've surrounded me with way more men with guns than I could ever fight off and you have my partner and my friend, what the hell could I possibly do, damn it?!" Peter exclaimed angrily, raising his voice. Clark scoffed, lowering his arm.

"Fine. But don't do anything stupid." He said. Peter walked quickly to Neal, examining him with his eyes.

"Neal? Neal hey. Neal." He said, rousing him. Neal moaned.

"Ptr'…Pe…hur…h'rtsss…" He squeezed the words gruelingly out of his throat, pushing his head from side to side. Peter placed a hand on his forehead and hair, gently pushing Neal's locks back nervously.

"Shshshsh…Neal where are ya' hit, Neal?" Peter said quietly, looking toward his side for an answer…but that wasn't what was bleeding.

"The back. He was hit in the back." Clark responded, looking at Burke. Neal's moans increased in number, his breath heaving around them. Peter swallowed, seeing the sweat on Neal's forehead and his paling complexion. Peter put an arm around Neal's shoulders to bring him up a little so he could see the wound more.

"Oh!" Neal exclaimed breathlessly, his head dropping back in pain as Peter surveyed.

"Sorry Neal, sorry bud." He apologized. "You're okay." Peter said as Neal's hand came up, his breathing rough as he tried to recover from the movement. Peter took his hand, squeezed it, and swallowed hard.

"He needs a doctor." Peter said stoically. Clark shook his head.

"Burke you know that isn't gonna happen." He told him.

"It'd better happen! He needs a doctor!" Peter shouted.

"Hey calm down!" Clark demanded.

"Calm down? How can I calm down when my partner is laying here dying as you do nothing?!"

"Partner? Please. He's your pet con, Burke, don't forget that!"

Peter's vision was glowing red as he stood and dropped Neal's hand, standing to face the other man.

"He's my partner dammit." He growled strongly, fists clenched. "And if you don't get him a doctor and he dies, God so help me I'll make you wish it was you who had died instead." Peter spat coldly. Clark raised his brows and shifted. Neal moaned.

"Pe…Pet'r…agh..." Neal's pitch grew higher. Peter's head turned quickly back to Neal. June watched him, her heart breaking at the sound of him in so much pain. Peter took his hand again and stroked back Neal's hair.

"I'm here, Neal, I'm right here, you're going to be fine. Just fine." He spoke gently to the younger man through breathy words. Neal's eyes were too heavy to keep open…but he was in too much pain to fall asleep.

"Listen Burke…I know you've had some training in this..." Peter shook his head.

"It's not enough. Not for something like that."

"Well maybe it'll have to-" Clark started.

"I'll do it boss. I've done it before." A man spoke out from the crowd.

"Joe? Joe why didn't you speak up?" He asked the younger man, who was a little older than Neal.

"Well I was about to sir when Burke came in."

"Fine. Let's get him into his room, shall we?" Clark asked. Peter snapped his head up to look at the man, Joe.

"If you try anything funny-"

"Why would I? I want a share in that cash as well as anyone." He answered. Peter stood and two men came to help hoist Neal up off the couch and carry him into the bedroom. Luckily Neal was mostly unconscious for that part, but he still could feel the new strain it caused. He moaned. Peter followed as they brought him into the bedroom. They took off Neal's shirt and laid him onto his stomach. Peter got a rag to wipe off the blood around the wound and wipe off his face some. He has a cut on his head from falling after he was shot. Peter sat at the bedside, listening to Neal's heavy breathing and pain.

"Can't we give him something?" Peter asked, looking up at the man who was beginning to set up to remove the bullet and sew up the wound. The man looked at Peter, thinking. He couldn't give him anything too strong since then he wouldn't wake soon enough. Finally he nodded and went to find something in the medical cabinet. Peter sat with Neal and Joe did this, trying what he could to comfort his partner.

If Neal stirred, Peter consoled him with a gentle touch on his hairline or with a few words. Finally, Joe gave him a painkiller. Not a strong one…but it was something. As Joe began to work on finding the bullet, Neal clenched in pain, looking to Peter with pleading eyes. Peter looked back, offering a calm, sure disposition to Neal's internal turmoil. Truthfully, Peter wasn't at all calm, but he didn't want Neal thinking that. Soon Neal gave into his pain and blood loss, finally passing out into a much more manageable state. Peter sighed in relief.

"Sorry Neal…" He muttered quietly, patting the sweat from Neal's face. "Guess you could say we're in trouble." He whispered quietly.

Thanks for reading guys!

Hope you enjoyed!

More to come!