Peter thanked June and promised her that he had everything under control. The second she hung up he became frantic. It was already after midnight and there was no word from Neal. Immediately he logged on to his computer and pulled up Neal's tracking data. The screen flashed the name of a street corner Peter wasn't two familiar with. What he did know was that it was quite far. Neal was getting very near to his 2 mile anklet radius.

Oh no. Neal, what are you doing? Peter knows Neal has been quite disoriented since the accident and worries for his safety. He jumps from his chair and runs out of the Bureau's office. Peter specializes in finding Neal Caffrey and making sure he is safe. He knew it was time to do that again.

Neal is still walking. He is so far from home, he has lost all sense of direction. He is freezing. He can't remember ever being this cold before. The rain is relentless and the howling pressure of the wind is insufferable. He crosses his arms tighter and realizes that his mouth is killing him. The chattering of his teeth has severely injured his jaw. His toes and fingers are numb and pounding. He notices that his fingers are turning a pale, sickly green. He is soaking wet, drenched from head to toe. His hair keeps flying in his face from the wind and has to keep uncrossing his arms to brush the hair back to its original position.

He braced the cold and unlatched his arms once again. He immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It was dead. The rain has rendered it useless. He knew it just needed to be dried off however there was no way he could do that now. There was no way he could get help. He wondered if he was developing pneumonia or a case of frostbite. All he knew was that he was in an incredible amount of pain. Every step he took hurt more than the last. He hoped for a miracle, confident that without one, he might just die.

An hour has passed since he ventured outdoors. He can barely stand anymore. His toes are frozen, his legs are numb, and his whole body has been colored a pale shade of green. He feels incredibly weak. Any remaining shred of strength in his body seems to be failing. He feels his head become incredibly heavy, yet light at the same time. His body begin to shut down. He falls. He faints onto the hard sidewalk unable to move a muscle. He is freezing, sick, alone, and scared for his life.

Five minutes pass when Neal is awakened from his dreamy state by the sound of a car door slamming close. Almost immediately he hears a reassuring, comforting sound. It's Peter. "Neal! Neal! Jesus Neal where are you?!" His tracking data shows that Neal is in the vicinity however it is too dark for him to see where he is. "Neal!" Neal is unable to move but says faintly "Peter, I'm over here" His jaw hurts from talking and his throat is practically frozen shut. His words are useless. Peter can't hear him. "Neal! It's Peter. Where are you? Are you okay?" Neal desperately wants to respond but knows full well that he can't.

Neal has practically given up hope until finally he hears the rapid pattering of foot steps approaching.

"Holy crap! Neal! There you are! Jesus Christ what on earth are you ding out he-" Peter's voice is cut off in his tracks.

He did not realize Neal's disastrous state before. He didn't truly understand until now what had happened. He sees Neal on the floor, not moving, freezing to death, and cut up from his fall. He wasn't just being dramatic, he was really in trouble.

Peter runs to his side and immediately picks him up off the floor. Neal is overcome by a feeling of security and genuine relief.

"Don't worry, don't worry Neal. I'm here now. Your going to be okay." Neal hears Peter saying this as he frantically pulls off his own coat and tightens it around Neal.

"Come on, we have to get you to my car." Peter's voice is laced with an all too familiar sense of worry and trepidation. "Dont worry Neil" Peter continued, unaware of the veracity of his statements, "Everything's going to be okay."