Save Me If You Can

Save Me If You Can Chapter 13

SAVE ME IF YOU CAN

Chapter 13

By

Lacadiva

Rating: PG-13. Disclaimer: All rights belong to Jeff Eastin.  Not me.

PREVIOUSLY...

Daniel stood under the archway of the dining room. His face was pale with fear.

"What is it, honey?"

"Someone's outside!"

~WC~

Peter was instantly on his feet, service revolver clutched tight and held downward.

"Neal, get them upstairs and stay with them. Get Jones on the phone and have him and Diana meet us here. GO!"

Neal moved swiftly and unquestioningly, shepherding the boy and his mother up the long, narrow staircase. His heart was racing, breath coming in short gasps, but deep down somewhere in his core, the true Neal Caffrey was reveling once again in the thrill of the chase. This was what he had always loved, what always made him feel vital and alive. Whether he was running from the feds or with them, avoiding arrest or assisting in the take down of another, the thrill was always potent and invigorating as much as it was terrifying. He felt a smile forming on his lips as he hit the top of the stairs but rebuked himself – this was not an appropriate response to the situation, at least from the perspective of the endangered family. He would smile again later, he thought, should they all live to recall it.

Once on the second level, he urged them toward the master bedroom, closing the door and locking it behind them.

"Daniel, the gun...give it to me..."

"It's not real. It's a pellet gun."

Neal exhaled loudly in frustration. Kristin pulled her own gun from her waistband. "Mine is real."

"You know how to use it?"

"I was married to a gun runner," she reminded him. The "duh" was implied by her look.

"Hold onto it," Neal told her, and shoved them both in the direction of her small walk-in closet. "Stay in here," he whispered anxiously, eyes wide and brilliant blue. "Don't come out until I tell you."

~WC~

Peter checked the hall, making his way furtively to the front door and examining every sight and sound for danger. He opened it slowly. His practiced eyes scrutinized every car, person or pet moving along the neighborhood. Nothing seemed suspicious...yet. He moved down the concrete steps and to the lip of an alley two brownstones away. Trash bags, recycling bins, and dried overgrowth from unkempt hedges and dying rose bushes made the way an urban obstacle course. He deftly overstepped the bags as he worked his way into the alley and found the back end of Kristin's house. Shadows were creeping into cooling brick corners as the sun was diminishing, making way for quickening night.

Something – or someone – moved out of the corner of his eye.

"FREEZE! FBI!"

~WC~

Neal stood with his back flush against the wall, clandestinely peering between sheers and blinds down below for whoever had frightened the boy. He saw movement and held his breath, but released it when he recognized it was only Peter he saw moving. He was beginning to think Daniel had perhaps been mistaken, or even imagined his intruder. Perhaps it was merely a neighbor using a back entrance, or someone had innocently wandered the wrong way, he had hoped. Just as Neal was beginning to relax, he saw someone move that was not his friend.