Platonic/Parental Neal x Peter [Oneshot collection]

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A/N: You may send in requests. Either in the comments or on timblr "glowingspence" .

Prompt:"Running out of air"

Concerned Peter's eyes wander over to Neal who had started pacing up and down the conference room a while ago, not long into the meeting with the other agents he planned on getting involved in tonight's plan.

It's not unusual for Neal, he will walk, play with a ball, doddle, rock in his chair, everything but sitting still. Never does this man sit still. Sometimes Peter wonders what he did in his small prison cell all day. Besides the amount of books he has read, that Peter knew someone was smuggling in for him, or the paintings he drew. Looking back, his soft spot for the con had been predictable and was probably always there.

What is unusal is, that he is quiet while doing it, no suggestions, no remarks, no sarcastic insights, not even a smirk when someone says something stupid. Nothing.Not even a "Peter please, you can't be serious" When he announces Neal will have to stay in the van with them for most of the event.

"Is this plan okay with you?" Peter asks eventually, his worry growing bigger but the man doesn't acknowledge him, just keeps on walking up and down the room as it falls silent, "Neal!"

"Mhm?" Visibly stressed he looks up to him, his fists clenched at his sides,

"Are you okay with what we just discussed?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" He forced a smile, sounding slightly out of breath, his blink rade speaking up a bit,

"You always have something to complain about"

"No it's fine"

"You don't look fine" Peter points out, looking over at the shaking man again, "Are you up for this or not?"

"I am"

"Good"

"Good" There is an uncomfortable silence, the agent's eyes wandering over both of them, Neal standing there, shaking like a leaf but trying to suppress it as best as possible while Peter's eyes are burning holes into the younger man's body, trying to find out what is wrong.

"Maybe sit down for a moment, you don't look so good" Jones speaks up, grabbing a water bottle from the middle of the table to open for Neal but he just shakes his head, flinching away as he tries to touch him,

"Neal?" Hectic the man moves further away from the table, away from Jones but further into Peter's direction, "Are you alright?"

"Out" He mumbles, his hand coming up to fiddle at his tie and the moment his quiet, so unsure and wavy voice fills the room Peter knows what is going on, whatever has been going on ever since they got caught in that room. In that damn air tight room.

"Okay, we can switch rooms, it's okay"

"Out"

"We have been practicing this, we will only switch rooms okay?" Gently in his movements Peter reaches for Neal's arm, leading him out of the room where he can feel him pulling at his hold, trying to get out of the office, out of this room, out of the building, "My office"

"We need to get out"

"We do not need to get out" Peter reminds him, his voice sounding as confident and demanding as it always does. But there is a slight shift in how he sounds like it. It's a soft look in his eyes, it's the gentle touch and the way he isn't raising his voice. "We will stay in here"

"Can't breath" Neal brings out, tears building in his eyes, "Please"

"Come with me"

"I can't breath"

"You can, I will show you that you can" Peter tries assuring him, "Come with me, i promise you you can breath"

"There isn't enough air"

"There is more than enough"

"There isn't enough" Terrified Neal looks down on the agents in the bullpen, all of them trying their best to look away, to give them some privacy, "We need to get out Peter"

"We don't"

"We will run out of air, it's only a matter-"

"Neal, there is no chance that i will ever let that happen" Stressed out Peter reaches for Neal's face, placing his hand on his cheek and forcing him to look at him, "There is enough air, there is enough, I promise it to you"

"There isn't" He cries, "We will die"

Ever since that afternoon, he had heard this sentence over and over again from him. In the van, at dinner, in the middle of the night, at the office. It never became less shuttering, less intimidating, less worrying. Not because he thinks that they will but because he knows Neal's mind, right now, is convinced that they will. Even though the threat isn't real, the panic is.

"We are not dying"

"We will"

"In a hundred years but not now" Peter tells him, a soft smile growing on his face as he tries to support Neal through this, the man hitching for air underneath his hand, "Slowly"

"Can't"

"You need help?"

"Yes" He cries, looking at Peter in fear, "Please"

"I am here, I will help you" Slowly he lets his hand wander down to Neals chest, "Like always, I take my hand off, you breathe in and when I put it on, you try to breathe out"

Pained he watches Neal struggle through the exercise, something that day must have tipped him over, as if everything happening to him had always been stacked and stacked in his mind and with this happening, it got too much, one tiny bit and everything came to flood his mind. Leaving him in this panicked stage more than Peter knows how to handle, leaving him in the painful realization that he needs to slow down.

"Thank you" Neal whispers as he sits on the chair in Peter's office, shaking like a leaf, his teeth clattering from the aftermath.

"There is no need to thank me, I will do this with you for as long as this is happening"

"That's not really what you signed up for"

"If you knew how long ago I actually signed up for this, you would have tried to break out a lot sooner"