A/N: There's a brief sex scene included.
Neal and Peter stood in the living room of their house, staring at the utter destruction they'd walked into. Craig had definitely been in their home and he'd apparently come with the intention of killing. There were bullet holes in the walls and ceiling. They were so sporadic that it looked as though he didn't realize they weren't home and he was just shooting with the hopes of killing someone. "I'm so glad I listened to you," Neal whispered, staring around the room in horror. "We could all be dead right now."
Peter rubbed Neal's lower back, keeping his eyes on his husband. "Until he's found, we aren't coming home," Peter said quietly. They'd only gone home for their children's Christmas presents because it was only a couple days away and they still didn't think it was safe to take everything and everyone home. This was just further proof that their thoughts were correct.
Both men went upstairs to grab their Christmas gifts that they'd hidden. Peter had, fortunately, been proactive and put them all into trash bags after being wrapped, so it was going to be a hell of a lot easier to take everything—faster, too.
While Peter went into their bedroom to grab the two trash bags they'd filled to the brim, Neal wandered down the hallway towards the twins' room. He touched bullet holes in the door and his lips parted. There were more holes in this door than in any other place Neal saw up to this point. He pushed the door open and went inside, looking around his children's room. It broke his heart to see how determined Craig had been, how hellbent he'd been on killing Neal's children. The cribs were broken and the mattresses in them looked like they'd been shot by a firing squad.
His chest felt hollow as he took in the fact that, yes, they would all be dead if they'd stayed home. In the past, he'd chosen not to run because he wanted to bring Craig and Vincent down. They hadn't gone around killing people then, so Neal hadn't really thought he needed to run. This time… This time, Neal realized they couldn't just wait around. Craig murdered Maryann—his best friend's wife. He wasn't fucking around. "I'm assuming we'll all need new beds," Neal whispered, knowing his husband was standing in the doorway behind him.
"Yeah," Peter said sadly. He was looking at the twins' mattresses, feeling the same way Neal felt. Walking further into the room, Peter wrapped his arms around Neal's waist. "I'm so glad my babies are all safe," he whispered thickly.
Neal rested a hand over Peter's, turning his head to the side to rub his cheek against his husband's face. "They're our priority," Neal said. "If we hadn't left, they would have suffered. They'd never get to live their lives." His eyes watered as he thought about that. He could imagine Craig coming in, taking his children's lives from them without so much as a first thought. Craig didn't care about Nicky or the twins. He's a psychopath hellbent on raping and killing Neal. "I love them and I love you," he whispered.
Peter kissed Neal's cheek, whispering, "I love the four of you so much." He squeezed Neal gently, rubbing his thumb over Neal's stomach. "We'll come home eventually, honey."
"We'll have to replace so much," Neal said solemnly. "Everything we left behind is in ruin."
"I don't give a damn," Peter said fiercely. "Furniture can be replaced. People can't."
Neal's eyes widened as the declaration his husband made hit him to the core. He didn't understand. He'd been with Peter for almost six years—Nicky was almost fifteen and their twins were almost a year old—and he always had this novel feeling that Peter was an amazing man and an amazing father for putting his family above all else. Peter's always been that man and Neal's loved that man all this time, but he fell in love with him more and more every day, especially when he said things like that—things that told Neal he and their children mattered the most to Peter. "I'm so thankful to have you as my husband," Neal whispered.
Peter gently urged Neal to turn in his arms until they were face to face and chest to chest. "Even though our lives are being threatened by a psychopath, I'm thankful to be with you and our babies." He kissed Neal gently, resting his forehead against Neal's. "This, like everything else, will pass. We will end him this time, Neal. I promise you that. I will not let him get away with everything he's done to you—to you and Nick."
"He's hurt you, too," Neal whispered. "By hurting me and Nicky, he's also hurt you because you've been here for us." Peter shook his head, pecking Neal's lips slowly. "You try so hard to be so strong all the time," Neal said softly, closing his eyes, "but you need to learn that you're as human as I am. You're allowed to break down and cry your eyes out. You're allowed to feel vulnerable and helpless." He sighed quietly, opening his eyes to meet Peter's. "You can be yourself with me. I don't need you to put up a strong front around me. You can admit that you've been hurt and we can get through this together."
The older man didn't want to admit that Neal was right. He didn't want to admit that he's been hurting very much alongside Neal and Nicky because he felt like his pain was insignificant when compared to theirs. He hadn't suffered the way they had, so he felt like he had no right to even speak about his own personal pain. Neal was right in more ways than one though. Peter knew he didn't have to be strong all the time. He knew he could let his guard down with his husband and he's done it in the past. Whenever he's felt as though he may have lost Neal, his guard had vanished long ago.
When he thought he'd lost Neal to suicide, he'd allowed himself to sob as though he really had lost Neal. Even after being told that Neal was alive, he still felt defenseless. He still felt vulnerable and Neal had seen him like that before. Neal was the one who'd experienced Peter's vulnerability and he'd been on the receiving end of Peter's lashing out in the past. "I've been hurt," he whispered, blinking quickly to rid himself of his tears before they could fall. Despite what Neal just said to him and what he had just told himself, he didn't want to cry and show his weakness. His family was just fine, so he shouldn't feel the need to cry.
Neal watched his husband's composure slowly crumble away. He himself hated crying in front of Peter, but he cried in front of his husband because he trusts him. He trusts Peter to take care of him, to support him, and to love him regardless of how he acts. "I know," Neal said softly.
Peter gripped Neal's hips firmly, shutting his eyes tightly. He bowed his head and breathed shakily as he thought about all of the things that could have happened to his children and husband. It wasn't limited to what would have happened if they'd stayed home. It was on several occasions. He'd thought about how he could have found his husband if he hadn't gotten to him in time to save his life, how his life would have essentially ended if Neal's suicide attempts had ever gone successfully, and how much hell their children would be put through if Neal killed himself. He honestly didn't blame Neal for trying to end his life. He didn't know how Neal felt because he didn't feel that way on a daily basis. He didn't know how it felt to have someone inside of his body, let alone violating it from the inside out.
He could imagine Craig storming into their house, shooting without giving it any thought whatsoever. He could imagine Craig torturing his husband. Thoughts about what Craig had done to Neal's body are what made him crack. His arms wound around Neal's body, holding him close without much room for Neal to squirm. He pressed his face into the crook of Neal's neck and cried quietly. Neal rubbed his back, hushing him gently while he kissed Peter's jaw. "I'm so fucking afraid of losing you," he said thickly, holding Neal tighter. "You have no idea how afraid I am." He felt like a waterfall, crying endlessly against his husband, but it felt good. Keeping it all pent up inside of him was doing him no good and he really didn't have a reason to hide his feelings from Neal. After all, Neal is his husband—his partner. Partners work together and Peter needed to remind himself of that sometimes. Neal hadn't really held back when he needed to let himself relax and vent. Peter never told him to stop crying or shut up. He never told Neal to go back to sleep because he himself was tired and he didn't feel like helping Neal at three in the morning some nights. No. He'd never done those things to Neal and he knew his husband well enough to know that Neal would never do those things to him either.
That's the kind of relationship they have. "I'm not going anywhere," Neal whispered, "unless you and the kids are with me." He hugged Peter in return, closing his own eyes. "I'm not going to let anyone take me from you, Peter Michael. I love you too much to just give up. I love you too much to stay somewhere unsafe. Leaving home protected the two of us, our beautiful babies, mom and dad, and several other members of our family."
"I've failed to keep you safe," Peter said angrily. "I've failed to keep my promises to you in the past and I don't want to fail this time." He was gritting his teeth as he bunched up the fabric of Neal's shirt in his fingers. "I don't want you to suffer. I don't want him to touch you. I don't want him to even look at you and think he can have you all to himself."
Neal leaned his head against Peter's, smiling weakly. "You haven't failed me," he whispered. "I'm still here. You've kept me alive for several years, Peter, and I'm grateful. I wouldn't have made it through all of this if I didn't have you at my side—if I didn't have your love."
Peter breathed heavily as he imagined his husband writhing in pain as Craig tormented him. He could hear Neal's screams, see him crying, and knew he could do nothing to stop it all. His love hadn't saved Neal then and he didn't think it would save Neal now. Neal told him before that he wouldn't survive rape a third time, yet he'd made it. Peter had no idea how Neal held himself together at all after everything he's been through, but he didn't want to tell himself Neal would survive anything. He didn't want to believe that Neal wouldn't take his own life if he had to endure rape once more. With that thought in mind, he was determined to kill Craig before Craig was close enough to touch Neal. He would not allow Craig the chance to violate his husband a third time.
What Neal had survived with Vincent for three years was traumatizing and followed Neal as he grew older. To this very day, he was still affected by what that monster had done to him and Vincent was dead now. Neal's tattoo was meant to express how he'd felt trapped all of his life because Vincent kept following him no matter how far or how fast he ran. He'd been running for twenty years before coming face to face with Vincent once again and it would only be a couple years following then before Vincent was given the opportunity to rape Neal again.
Remembering that Neal told him he didn't think Vincent wanted to partake in his rape when he'd been taken by him and Craig made him sick. Vincent spent three years taking Neal's innocence from him. At sixteen, Neal was ready to end his life. Hell, he'd admitted he was considering it as a fourteen year old. Peter hated thinking about Neal wanting to end his life as a teenager. He could remember the picture he'd seen of Neal Bennett on a file his father brought home with him. The smile on Neal's face was a memory because he hadn't been able to smile like that since.
When Peter saw that same picture in recent years, he could see the difference in his husband. As a teenager, that smile had merely been a mask for him to hide behind. Today, that smile was long gone and was replaced with something genuine. Peter could see Neal's smile whenever he wanted it because Neal had reason to smile. He has a family who loves him dearly—something he hadn't had for a long time. He had a devoted husband and three very beautiful children of his own to share with his husband. It was what he wanted and what he thought he'd never have. "I need you," Peter whispered as he finally cracked, sobbing quietly. "I don't want to live without you."
Neal could promise Peter all he liked that Peter would never have to know how it felt to live without him, but Peter wouldn't believe it until Craig was sixteen feet under. He wanted closure. With Vincent dead, Neal had only gotten half of his due closure. Ending Craig's life would finalize that closure. "I don't want to leave you, Peter Michael," Neal said quietly, rubbing his husband's back. He nuzzled his cheek against Peter's head, feeling his lover's misery. He knew how fearful Peter was of losing him. Peter was part of why Neal didn't want to attempt suicide anymore. Leaving his husband after everything Peter had done for him would be extremely cruel. In addition to that, he'd be selfish to leave his children. As a father, he had signed on to taking care of them—to raising them. As a husband, he'd pledged his unconditional love to the man of his dreams. As a father and husband, he had a responsibility to his loved ones.
He realized that after spending so much time wishing he could be dead. Before Peter came into his life, he'd gone from being alone to being responsible for his son. He couldn't abandon Nicky then and he wouldn't abandon him and his siblings now. Peter deserved a man who loved him, who wanted to be with him. Neal wanted to be that man and he could only do that if he were still alive.
•◊•
Peter and Neal were outside of their safe house, playing in the backyard with the twins, Nicky, and Trent. It was pretty snowy outside and Nicky wanted to play. Joey wanted to follow Nicky, so Neal decided to bundle the twins up and take them outside. Peter came out with him after bringing Trent over.
Joey giggled crazily when Peter played with him. He was bent over with his arm wrapped around Joey's waist and Joey was having fun touching the snow. Peter's hands weren't gloved, but Joey's were. Peter glanced at his husband, seeing the love in his eyes as their gazes met. After being stuck here for a couple of weeks, they all needed to get out and have some fun. No one was allowed to play in front of the house, so they'd chosen to play out in the back.
Peter laughed his ass off when Neal got pelted in the face by a snowball Nicky had thrown. "Oh, really?" Neal challenged. Nicky giggled and Trent looked mortified. Neal carefully set Brie down, keeping a hand on her as he formed a ball of snow in his left hand. He tossed it and Nicky didn't move fast enough, so it hit him in the face as well. He laughed and knelt to ball up some more snow. Brie was giggling and Peter couldn't help watching his husband. It was adorable how he just played without thinking he'd be too childish. He's almost forty years old and he still wanted to be a kid.
Neal stayed with Brie even as he tossed snowballs back and forth with Nicky—and eventually Trent who joined in after Neal encouraged it. Nicky took advantage of Neal's attempt to make a bigger snowball than what he'd been throwing, charging his father. Neal was taken by surprise, but chuckled as he ended up on his back with Nicky on top of him. Brie was still standing where she'd been standing before and Peter quickly moved towards her with Joey in his arms. He wanted Neal and Nicky to play, so he stayed with the twins to make sure neither of them fell into the snow since they probably wouldn't get up on their own.
Nicky and Neal wrestled and rolled around in the snow. After quite a bit of snow ended up down both of their jackets and their faces were flushed due to the cold, Neal pinned his son down into the snow, leaning down to pepper kisses all over his face. Nicky nudged his father with his knees, moaning, "Dad! Get off!" He was giggling when Neal wouldn't let up. "Daddy!"
He managed to roll his father over, hovering over him now. He was straddling Neal's waist with his palms pressing into the snow. "I love you so much," Neal whispered as he smiled up at his son. Neither of them could really remember the last time they'd played in the snow like this together, but it was fun nonetheless.
"I love you, too, daddy," Nicky said.
"Boys—and Brie," Jon called out from the safe house. Neal sat up, wrapping his arms around his son. "Dinner's ready. I want you all to get into warm clothes and come eat."
Neal got himself and Nicky up, Trent darted over to Nicky to take his hand and lead him inside, and Peter waited for Neal to come closer to him. "That was adorable," Peter whispered when Neal smiled at him. Neal picked Brie up and Peter wrapped an arm around his husband, leaning down to capture his chilled lips. "I love seeing you like that," he admitted.
Peter couldn't tell if his husband were blushing from the comments he made or if his face was pink because he was cold. Either way, he looked cute. "You should try it sometime. It's fun," Neal teased as he headed inside. Peter shut the door after he was inside. He undid Joey's jacket and snow pants while Neal did the same with Brie. Hannah came in and took the twins, telling Peter and Neal to go change their clothes because they—mostly Neal—were dripping on the floor.
Both men left their boots alongside the twins', Nicky's, and Trent's. Neal shivered when he stripped his jacket, setting it on the back of a chair near the heater. He grabbed a change of clothing, went into the bathroom, and took his shirt off next, then his pants and socks. "Your lingerie is wet," Peter said seductively as he joined Neal in the bathroom with a change of his own clothing.
"I'm freezing."
Peter took his own jacket and pants off, standing in front of his husband who was almost naked. "We could warm you up a little before going out for dinner if you'd like."
Neal stared into his husband's eyes for several moments before whispering, "Lock the door."
They emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later—completely dressed. Jon took one look at his sons and smirked. He could tell just by looking at Neal that they'd made love in the bathroom. Neal's hair was disheveled and both of their faces were heated up. "I hope you cleaned up after yourselves," Jon teased them quietly when they came closer to help dish out dinner.
Peter smirked, resting one hand on Neal's lower back. He didn't feel the need to make a comment this time. He and Neal made love—so what? It warmed the younger man considerably and they both loved each other enough to enjoy it. And they had cleaned up.
Neal got food for Nicky and Trent first, then the twins'. Jon and Hannah dished out their own food and went to sit on the couch. Neal was sitting on the floor in front of the couch with the twins' food. Peter, watching his husband in awe, snapped out of his Neal-induced daydream and dished out food for himself and Neal. He joined Neal on the floor and sidled right up to him, earning a grin from his husband.
After everyone had finished their dinner, Neal and Peter each had one of the twins in their arms and they were leaning against each other, Trent and Nicky were sitting on the couch together, hand in hand, and Jon was sitting with his arm around Hannah. They had some random cartoon on the television, but no one was really watching it.
Peter and Neal allowed Trent to spend the night with them once Trent had gotten permission from his mother, so Nicky and Trent curled up together on Nicky's bed, which left the twins to Peter and Neal.
Jon and Hannah were asleep in no time at all, Nick and Trent kept talking quietly, and Neal and Peter were having a hard time getting comfortable in their bed since it wasn't as big as their actual bed had been. This bed barely fit them both and now they had to keep the twins in it with them. Neal set them in front of him near the wall because he didn't want them to rolling off the bed and Peter was spooning him. They were much closer than they usually were. Neal felt like this was the prelude to sex with how close and hard Peter was. Peter's erection was pressed right up against Neal's ass and it was evident that he wished it would go away so they could relax. Neal wiggled around a little bit just to fluster his husband. "Pain in the ass," Peter whispered. Neal snickered quietly, reaching back to rub Peter's hip.
"We could do it," Neal said softly. "I just have to turn over."
"Neal George," Peter admonished. "They're still up."
Neal paused for a moment. "Oh. Right." He slid his hand down a bit, ghosting his hand over Peter's groin. He smirked when he felt Peter's cock jump in excitement. "Game?"
"Game," Peter whispered, kissing Neal's shoulder. Neal smiled when Peter guided his hand into Peter's briefs. He stroked the older man behind him and Peter's left hand slid up and down Neal's arm. This was one of the quieter things they could do. "God…" He pulled his arm back and slid it underneath Neal's, immediately reaching into Neal's lingerie to stroke him in kind. Even though Neal preferred to have Peter's inside of him, he didn't mind this. It didn't pleasure him as much as it did Peter, but it still worked.
They managed to give each other handjobs as long as they could, but then Peter began to tremble as he resisted his need to release. Glancing over his shoulder, he quietly told Neal that the boys were asleep. Peter wanted to take Neal very badly, so they both slid out of bed and quickly snuck into the bathroom. Peter immediately had Neal's back against a wall and they slid their underwear off. As soon as Neal's lingerie hit the floor, Peter lifted his husband, propping him up against the wall. He wrapped his legs around Peter's waist and moaned when Peter slid into him. They didn't need any preparation because Neal had taken care of that in the midst of their handjobs. "Peter, Peter," he whispered, shutting his eyes tightly as Peter thrust into him erratically. He made a quiet sound when Peter hit his prostate a little rougher than usual, but it was enough to bring Peter over the edge.
Peter listened to his husband as he gripped Neal's cock and stroked him until he came just in time to come simultaneously with Peter. He kept his eyes on Neal's face, watching his lips parted in a silent gasp. "Sorry," Peter whispered once they were both completely done. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"That felt good," Neal said quietly. He opened his eyes and smiled at his husband as Peter stroked the outside of his thighs, sliding his hands to rub underneath and back towards Neal's ass. "I can tell you needed to come really bad. You wanted it inside of me?"
"Yes," Peter fiercely admitted. "I like watching you after I come inside of you." He thrust into Neal slowly a few more times, kissing him, before allowing Neal's feet to touch the floor. He rested his hands on Neal's hips, staring into his eyes. "I feel like it's a lot more intimate if I do. That sounds kind of stupid, but…"
Neal smiled, reaching up to caress his husband's face. "We're husbands—committed to each other and only each other. I feel like we're more intimate this way, too."
Peter nodded slowly, sighing. "I wish I wasn't so intent on coming though. I like drawing it out with you."
"We've done it quickly before," Neal whispered. "It's all good, lover, and it's not like this is the last time we'll ever make love again. We'll have our quick moments, but we'll also have our moments where we'll feel like we were so absorbed with each other forever."
The younger man watched his husband rub his stomach, licking his hand afterwards to clean himself. Neal's face heated up as he watched Peter enjoy Neal's release. He could feel what Peter left behind inside of him and he enjoyed that, too.
They cleaned up quickly and got back into their underwear before heading back out to bed, laying down as closely as they'd laid before. Peter rubbed his thumb over Neal's abdomen slowly, kissing Neal's shoulder, as a way of reminding Neal that he loves the younger man.
•◊•
Neal woke up to the quiet voice of his husband behind him. He knew without looking that Peter was on the phone. "I can't even suggest places to look. Our home was trashed." There was a brief pause and Neal swore he heard yelling through the phone. "Reese. Reese, no, I didn't put us in harm's way. We—" Peter grunted as he listened to his boss and oldest friend lecture him. Once his tirade was over, Peter defended himself. "We had to go back. We left a few important things behind that'll help the kids forget about all of this for a little while." Peter was quiet as he listened to Reese again. "It was frightening to see what Craig did when we weren't home. He must have gotten a hold of a God damned machine gun—there were so many bullet holes in the walls, ceilings, and floors. He went into our bedroom and destroyed our bed—same for the kids' rooms."
The younger man turned over without jostling the bed too much and he rested a hand on Peter's bare lower back. Peter glanced back at him silently, reaching down to stroke Neal's hair with his left hand. He was looking at Neal apologetically and Neal kissed Peter's wrist, whispering, "It's okay."
"Neal and I moved everything important to us out as quickly as we could manage. There's no way of knowing when he was actually there because we'd been gone for—" He closed his eyes, stilling his hand in Neal's hair. "We'll be just fine, Reese. I'm not letting him out of my sight and we've got our guns." He laughed lightly to himself. "Hell, my dad has a gun and he came down from Maine." They talked for a few minutes longer before Peter said goodbye and hung up. As soon as he set his phone down, he looked down at his husband, stroking his hair again. "Sorry that I woke you up, baby." Neal shrugged, smiling faintly at his husband. "Reese called to checkup on us. He's been concerned because it seems like Craig's gone to ground."
"There's no way he could possibly know about the safe houses, right?"
"Right, darling," Peter assured him. "These aren't linked to us or the FBI in any way at all. They're simply abandoned homes."
Neal nodded, resting his hand on Peter's thigh. "We'll get him before he gets us, Peter," he said quietly. "You, dad, and I are determined to protect our family. Mom and the kids will be safe."
Peter stared at Neal even as his hand moved. "So will you," he stated firmly. "Just because you've got a gun, I'm not going to let up and tell myself you're okay on your own."
"Nor would I expect you to," Neal whispered. "I'm not asking you to leave me wide open because I have a gun of my own. I know you have a gun and I want to protect you, Peter."
The older man leaned down to kiss Neal's temple, sighing quietly. "I'll keep you safe. I promise, Neal." Neal smiled at him softly, trying to lighten his husband's mood. It didn't seem to be doing much good, but he didn't want Peter to drown himself in his own despair because he feared he wouldn't be able to protect his husband. No. Neal knew Peter would do his damnedest for him and he was determined to let Peter do that without interference, but he wanted Peter to stop putting himself down. Peter blames himself for what's been done to Neal in the past and Neal wished he wouldn't do that to himself. "I'm never going to let that son of a bitch inside of you again." He sounded so angry and resentful. It chilled Neal to the bone as his husband's eyes seemed to darken. He didn't move at all, but he kept his eyes on the older man. "You're my husband," he whispered, "and I refuse to let anyone else take advantage of your body. I wish I was the kind of man to inflict pain upon him that he's inflicted upon you."
"But you're not," Neal insisted. "You're a good man and I love you for being that man. What he's done to me proves that he's a monster. He's not a human being and—"
"But you are," Peter snapped. Neal flinched in response. He didn't understand why Peter was acting like this. They were safe for the moment. "You're a human being that he tortured. He almost killed you in both instances in which he'd kidnapped you. What he's done to you is unforgivable and I don't want a simple gunshot to his black heart as revenge."
Neal's lips parted as he listened to this. His husband sounded so dark and he could only imagine what was going through Peter's thoughts. "Peter, justice will prevail," he promised.
Peter shook his head, meeting Neal's eyes again. "No amount of justice can ever make this right. He used me and our son against you and raped you—almost killing you in the process."
As much as it hurt to think about what Peter was saying, he knew Peter was right. He couldn't deny what Craig had done to him. The name embedded into his thigh prevented him from going into denial anyway. "I'm alive and I'm healing, Peter."
The older man leapt up from the bed, growling quietly in fury. Neal pushed himself up, keeping his eyes on Peter. He trusted that Peter wouldn't do something stupid, but this was obviously hitting him a lot harder than it normally did. "That may be true, but I can't forget it. I can't stop myself from seeing the way you looked when I found you, when you were in the hospital, and when you screamed in terror during your nightmares."
Silence loomed over them until Neal swallowed hard and asked, "Is that what you see when you look at me? Someone who's broken and beaten?"
Peter turned to face him, staring intently at him. He wanted to tell Neal that he didn't see him in that light, but that wasn't entirely true. He would never suggest that Neal was broken or beaten, but he couldn't help remembering the horrible things Craig had done to his husband and all he'd seen was the aftermath. He hadn't been there to watch Craig unleash hell upon Neal. The first time, Neal had been alone. The second time, Nicky had been there to see and hear everything they did to his father.
There was no way in hell he could forget how his husband looked when he'd finally gone to his rescue. His malnourished, beaten, bloody, bruised, and miserable husband wasn't something he could just pretend never happened. Neal was healthier, healed, and a little happier now, but Peter wouldn't allow himself to forget. He himself couldn't feel Neal's pain, but he wished he could have taken it from him during all of his nightmares and in his moments where he could barely move on his own let alone speak. He'd watched Neal suffer while Craig was out there without a care in the world. "I can see what he did to you," Peter whispered. "I can see how you've healed, but God damn it. I can't stop seeing how much hell he put you through. He had you for a week—and then two weeks. Vincent had you for three years and you never even slightly hinted that he'd made you feel that horrible. Craig has scarred you in ways that make me loathe his very existence."
Neal slid off of the bed frantically, moving towards his husband. He rested his hands on Peter's chest, pleading with his eyes. "Peter, I'm better now," he whispered. "I'm not forcing myself to lose weight until I kill myself. I'm not cutting myself anymore. I'm—"
Peter pressed his palm against Neal's thigh angrily and Neal's eyes watered. "He did this to you and it still hurts you. He still hurts you and he isn't even here."
"Peter, stop," he begged.
"I'm going to kill him in the worst and slowest way known to man. I refuse to let him off easy for this. He deserves to suffer and I want to hear him scream. I want him to beg for mercy and I want to refuse to give it to him."
"You're not that man," Neal stammered. "You're not that cruel."
He grabbed the front of Neal's shirt and bunched it up in his fist angrily. "I'll become that man when I'm face to face with him." Neal stared at his husband, terrified. "He could have taken you from me forever—from our kids forever. By taking your life, he would have ended all of ours."
"Peter, I'm alive," Neal whispered as tears slid down the sides of his face. He was holding Peter's hand in both of his even though his shirt was still balled up into Peter's fist. "You're not like him, so don't be like him. You're not a psychopath or a murderer." Peter suddenly seemed to come back to himself when he actually listened to what Neal was saying. "You're my teddy," he whispered endearingly, sounding pained simultaneously. "Don't become someone you're not because of what he did. I survived it."
The older man simply stared into his husband's eyes, seeing the desperation in those blue orbs that he loved so very much. His fingers slowly released Neal's shirt and Neal didn't move to back away like Peter thought he would. Instead, Neal wrapped his arms around Peter, hugging him tightly. He didn't want to see Peter become a man who murdered for revenge. That's not who Peter is or would be. He understood Peter's intentions and motivations, but that didn't make them right. Peter Michael Burke is a man who values justice and Neal knew this wouldn't be justice.
Justice would prevail and Neal would see to it that he kept Peter on that path alongside him.