Chapter Text
"You're not falling asleep, are you?" Peter says, wiggling his shoulder a little where Elizabeth's head has fallen against it. She stirs slightly.
"Of course not," she mutters, the words slurring together slightly.
"You're the one who picked this movie! I wanted to watch the game," Peter teases, and Elizabeth sighs, throwing an arm across his middle. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days definitely isn't his favorite movie in the world, but he couldn't be more content.
So of course that's when his phone rings. He ignores it, determined to enjoy his Friday night. And then it rings again. And again. Elizabeth sits up.
"Should you get that, honey?"
Peter sighs, grabbing his phone. "It's work," he says. He doesn't make any attempt at hiding his annoyance when he answers the call. "Jones, this better be good."
"It's Caffrey," Jones says. Of course it is. "His anklet pinged. He's outside his radius."
"Damn it, Neal," Peter murmurs, pinching at the bridge of his nose as irritation floods him. "Damn it! Okay, I'm on my way."
"What's going on?"
Peter lowers his phone and covers the mouthpiece with his hand, even as he stands. "I'm sorry, Ellie, I've gotta go. It's Neal, he's outside his radius." He bends forward plants a kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry about waiting up for me, I have no idea when I'll be home."
"Be careful.”
"I will, hon." He moves the phone back to his ear as he walks toward the door, grabbing his coat from its hook on his way out. "Jones? Talk to me."
"He's near 41st, just north of the radius, been there for the last seven minutes or so."
Peter frowns, climbing into his car. "I'm headed there now," he says as he starts the engine and pulls out onto the quiet, darkened street. "Has he moved at all since the ping?"
"No. Could he have removed it?"
"I don't think so," Peter says. "Why would he leave the radius and then remove the anklet? That doesn't make any sense. You said he's north of 41st What's there?"
"Not sure, boss. Let me just..." There's the sound of typing and then, "I pulled up the coordinates and it doesn't look like there's much there. Just a couple of old buildings."
"Okay, text me the coordinates, will you? And call me again if he moves."
"You got it. You need me to send back-up your way?"
"No," Peter says. He really hopes it doesn't come to that. "No, not yet. I'll let you know. Thanks, Jones."
He hangs up and dials Neal's number. It goes straight to voicemail, and Peter chucks his cell into the passenger seat with a frustrated hiss.
"Damn it, Neal, what are you up to?"
-
Peter doesn't want to alert Neal to his presence before he's ready, so he parks about a block away and heads toward the coordinates on foot, armed with the flashlight from the emergency kit in the trunk. Jones hasn't called to say the anklet has moved, so Peter is operating under the assumption that it hasn't.
The younger agent really wasn't kidding; at least on the surface, there's nothing here. Nothing that makes it make sense for Neal to break the rules like this, anyway. He's starting to wonder if Jones's theory was right, if instead of finding Neal he's just going to find the anklet, abandoned. He turns on the flashlight, shining it on the ground in front of him. The surprisingly bright beam catches on something red.
All of the frustration Peter has been feeling is gone in an instant, replaced by sickening worry.
It's blood. There are big drops of it, and as Peter shines the light around he can see that the blood is in a trail coming from the south. He follows it north, the ill feeling in his gut getting worse as he realizes that the it's headed into the alley between the two buildings – right toward the coordinates.
Oh god.
He lifts the beam as he turns into the alley, and his heart plummets.
"Neal."
xxx to be continued...