Neal Caffrey: The Tie That Binds

Chapter 3: Busted

Peter was furious. He knew that Neal wanted revenge, but to go this far? Neal hated guns and violence but was willing to go that far when it comes to Kate's killer. Neal sometimes doesn't have the best judgment, at least, when it comes to women, but he had gone too far this time. Neal must realize the consequences of his actions, and Peter would hold him accountable.
"Diana," Peter called.
"Yes, Boss?" she returned.
"Issue a BOLO out on Neal, and make sure it says he's armed and dangerous," he orders.
"You sure, Boss?" Diana questions.
"Please, do it. Neal brought this onto himself," Peter sighs.
"Okay, Boss," Diana surrenders.
"Now, let's go to that meeting," Peter sighs.

~Meanwhile~

As Neal scouted out the meeting, he tried to calm his shaking hands. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew what he was about to do was wrong. However, when Neal looks up to see a black SUV pull up, it's time. He walks forward to meet the dark-haired man that was his enemy. Damien was tall and had piercing grey eyes. His hair was black but had flecks of grey in it. He had this feeling to him, but Neal couldn't put his finger on it. Neal noticed his subtly muscular arms and made a fast decision. He reaches behind his back, grabs the cool metal tucked into his waistband, and pulls it out. Before he can do anything else, he hears disturbances in the unnatural silence.
"Freeze. FBI!" Peter yells out. "Hands where I can see them! Neal, drop the gun."
Peter was now focused solely on Neal and let the rest of the team deal with Damien and his goons.
"Peter. He killed Kate," Neal half warns, half begs.
"I know, but you don't deserve to throw your life away for this dirt bag. Let us bring him in and get justice, not revenge," Peter negotiates.
"You promise?" Neal asks quietly.
"Yes. Now drop the gun and kick it over to me. Slowly," Peter instructs.
Neal does as he's told and backs away from the now-cuffed Damien, shaking his head to clear the anger. Once Damien and his crew are taken away, Peter tells Diana, "Cuff him."
"Wha-," Neal starts to say but quiets instantly.
For the second time that month, Neal feels the unforgiving metal circle on his wrists. When they get back to headquarters, Neal hangs his head dejectedly, too ashamed to meet any of his co-workers in the eye. Peter has a firm grip on Neal's arm, knowing full-well that Neal could get rid of the cuffs in an instant. Neal finally looks up to see Peter leading him to the holding cells they keep downstairs. One of the holding cells opens with a loud clang, and Neal walks through the open door. He waits while Peter undoes his handcuffs and then sits down on the cot, the only thing in the room. Peter and Neal have sort've reached an unspoken agreement: I won't talk unless you do. So they don't.
The next thing Neal realizes is the sound of Peter's voice. Neal had managed to fall asleep. Now, after a couple of hours, Peter is back.
He's somber as he says, "Hands behind your back."
What was this? Peter never cuffed Neal behind his back. It was the only thing Neal had been relying on: Peter's lingering kindness towards Neal. However, Neal was a con-man and didn't feel like showing any new emotions, so he did as Peter had told him. Peter stepped forward with the handcuffs and cuffs Neal behind the back. Not only does he do that, but he rips off what Neal thinks is some tape. What the? What was Peter doing? He had ripped off a strip of duct tape and blocked the cuffs from being picked. Then he stroked Neal's wrists, forcing him to, reluctantly, relax his clenched hands. There goes any chance Neal had of slipping the cuffs. Just as Neal thinks Peter's finished doing whatever he's doing. Then Neal sees Peter take out some zip-ties and loop them through the cuffs. Then he attaches them to Neal's belt-loops, tightening them as he goes. Neal does all he can to bite back a whimper when he feels his arms jerked all the way backward, cutting off all circulation.
"Peter?" Neal cries out, holding back tears.
The tears were, mostly, from the pain, but this was almost overboard. It seemed that with the final tug on his arms, his friendship with Peter had died.
"Trust me, Neal. You'll understand why when we go where you're going," Peter says.
Now Neal had the question, where was he going that deserved such restraints?