Chapter 4

Peter slept for a long time, although he didn't know it, thankfully missing the brutal awakening and then self-mutilation of the children in the cells around him. As he slept, the sides of his neck opened, revealing soft, blue-green streaks that lead into his throat. They glistened with moisture at first, but as he slept on, they began to tinge gray and the edges began to chap and flake. His ears, at some point whilst he slept had sharpened into points, the insides rearranging to adjust for water pressure and submarine noises, also becoming very acute in the process.

In between his toes, a soft, thin layer of skin grew connecting them. His webbed feet twitched in the cold air and curled into his body, trying to get warm.

Inside his eye lids, a second, clear membrane formed, to keep his eyes open and clear even under water. His nostrils developed flaps to close whilst underwater, to keep water from going down the windpipe unfiltered by the gills.

Through all this, Peter slept, thankfully oblivious to changes his body underwent major external and internal changes.

It was the familiar, yet dreaded, screech-slam of the opening door that woke Peter. It wasn't his. His door was still locked tight when he opened his eyes. His eyes. There was something on his eyes!

Peter whimpered softly as he balled his hands up and rubbed at his eyes. It wouldn't go away! He tried to turn his head, but the sudden stinging pain in his neck stopped him. It burned!

Peter let out a choked, pained cry as tear sprang to his eyes. It burned so much! It wouldn't stop, now that he had moved and woken the pain, it remained a biting agony.

He lifted his hands, pressing at the sides of his neck, where the pain came from. Aunt May said you should never scratch a boo-boo, it only made it worse. But the pain wouldn't stop!

Suddenly, a great ripping of metal rang out as the heavy steel door was ripped off its hinges and thrown down the hall with a clang. It frightened Peter so much that he withdrew his hands from his neck- it burned!- and skittered away, into the corner with his mat, and pressed his back against the icy wall. The fluorescent lights of the hallway illuminated a hulking male figure standing in the doorway. The man was easily much bigger than the biggest guard. Peter flinched away from him in fear, even as he said, "Be still child. I will not harm you."

Peter pressed himself even more firmly into the corner, trying to get as far away from the man as he could, even as his neck still blazed. Even the cold wall on either side of his neck didn't help. Despite his Aunt May's warnings, he had to scratch, it was the only way.

His nails hadn't been cut in all the time Peter had been in the bright cold place where no one saw him as a person. It left then long and ragged, perfect for stopping whatever was hurting his neck.

Peter scratched desperately at his neck. He just wanted it to stop hurting! The pain of his nails cutting into the soft skin there hurt, but the burning of his neck hurt even worse, and the scratching at least distracted Peter from it a little.

The man in the doorway didn't stay in the doorway, he started walking toward Peter. Peter let out the sobs that had been building in his chest since he woke up to pain. He just wanted it to go away, the pain, the man, this place! He wanted his Uncle's bear hugs and His Aunt's forehead kisses. Peter wanted home.

Peter's nails drew blood and he wanted to cry some more at the relief of something wet against the burning patches of his neck. Somehow, despite the blood being warm, it felt cool against his blazing skin.

Suddenly, Peter's wrists were grabbed, the man had reached Peter and now he wouldn't let Peter scratch. But his neck still burned. It burned so bad!

Peter thrashed, throwing his whole body into it and pulling at his captive wrists. He screamed 'bloody murder,' as his Aunt called it, and threw himself forward with his mouth oped in an attempt to bite the man that was being so cruel to him. Couldn't he see that Peter was hurting? That he burned?

Peter screamed and thrashed as much as he could. But, he was small, the man was big, and Peter was already tired when he woke up. Days or more with only gruel to eat, a mat to sleep, and needles for company had left Peter weak and sickly. He tired quickly.

The man, sensing that Peter was tiring and might listen, said, "You need to stop touching your neck."

Peter thought it was advice that his Aunt would give him, but she would also be able to make it completely all better. Kiss the boo-boo, put a band-aid on it, and make it go away. This man didn't.

Peter looked up the the mad kneeling over him. Maybe if the man knew how badly he was burning, he would fix it?

"I-I hurts." Said Peter, his voice weak and scratchy from dehydration.

"I know, but I can help you-" And suddenly Peter's mind shot straight back to whenever he tried to complain that he was hurting to the lab-coated man and the multiple burning injections that usually followed.

"No!" Screamed Peter in raw panic. He twisted, once again throwing himself from side to side to get free. "No more! Please no more!"

Suddenly, one massive hand was now holding both of Peter's tiny, bony wrists; the other arm was scooping his legs out from under Peter to cradle him against the man's broad chest. Peter twisted, trying to squirm away. He turned his head away from the big man, refusing to look at him.

Without another word, the man carrying Peter stood and walked outside into the hallway beyond, into the light.

AN: Sorry if the ending there is abrupt, but I hit 1000 words, realized its 11:00 at night and if I wanted to make it before tomorrow and actually post a chapter a day, I need to find a stopping spot. That was the best spot I could find. Luckily, since I'm writing for NanoWrimo, you'll get the second part of this tomorrow, so it's not like you have long to wait. Well, goodnight.